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THUEE
APOSTLES OF QUAKERISM,
rOPULAR SKETCHES OF
FOX, PENN AND BARCLAY,
By B. RHODES,
Author of "John Bright, Statesman and Orator," <fec.
With Introduction by J. STOUGHTON, d.d.,
Author op " Ecclesiastical History of England,"
" Life of William Penn," <fec., &c.
"They pleaded only for broad, unfettered, spiritual Christianity." —
J. J. Gurney. Memoirs^ vol. it, p. 27,
PHILADELPHIA:
HENRY LONGSTRETH,
No. 723 Sansom Street.
1886.
BRiGHAM YC'JNtG UNIVERSE
LIBRARY
PROYO. UTAH
INTRODUCTION.
IHAYE been requested by tbe Author of this Volume to
write a few introductory lines ; with that request I
cheerfully comply. Having read the proof sheets, I can
testify to ihe diligence, care, and ability, with which the
work has been executed. The perusal has been to me very
interesting and very pleasant ; and I have felt much satis-
faction at finding that the historical conclusions here pre-
sented are, in general, coincident with my own.
It might be supposed that a book of this limited size,
and intended for popular circulation, would be based chiefly,
if not entirely, on the larger and best known biographies
and histories relative to the men and the period described.
But this is by no means the case. I find in these pages
numerous signs of original research, and abundant evidence
that the writer has formed an independent judgment of the
questions coming before him in his enquiries. He has had
access to some unpublished correspondence, of which he
has made good use. Fourteen letters, not printed before,
are laid under contribution, and they add much to the
value of the volume.
Mr. Rhodes has evidently much sympathy with the life
and labours of the early Quakers ; and not being a member
of that Society, he is free to judge impartially of certain
points in their singular history. That judgment he has
wisely exercised. I am fully persuaded in my own mind
Ciii)
(iy)
that Quakerism was a salutary reaction against the formal-
ities, and the hard theological systematising of the age ;
that it called attention to forgotten truths ; and that its
excitements, though clouded by some smoke, yet burnt
with fire from heaven ; also I quite concur with the writer
in thinking that the Society of Friends have still a place
for good amongst religious agencies at w^ork in this nine-
teenth century. May they have grace successfully to
accomplish their mission 1
I may add, that whilst all three of these biographical
sketches are valuable contributions to our ecclesiastical lit-
erature, the last, which treats of Robert Barclay, is the
fullest, most original, and best of all.
JOHN STOUGHTO]^.
PREFACE.
The demand of this busy age is for small books, containing
the pith and marrow of important subjects. As regards my
subject, I have endeavoured to meet this demand. I hope
that the volume supplies at once sketches of three leaders
in early Quaker history, and an informal manual of the
rise and tenets of the Society.
A few years ago, I was led to re-examine the journal of
George Fox, and I was surprised to find him an evangelist
of a rare order, with a heart burning and throbbing with
pity for sinners and with zeal for the Master. His ardent
nature was laid hold of by the gospel in its fulness, and the
result was a spirituality at once delicate and strong.
The same features attracted me in William Penn. He
also had many of the gifts of the evangelist. He could
collect and hold a crowd almost as well as Fox, and preach
them as full a gospel. If other schemes had not claimed
so large a share of his life, I think he might have done an
evangelistic work equal to that done by George Fox.
Robert Barclay deserves to be highly honoured as one
who truly devoted his all to Christ. And he had much to
devote — an honoured name and titled connections, rare
intellectual gifts and great acquirements, social position
and wealth. Yet if I understand his life aright, there was
no half-heartedness in his decision. But I miss in him
that glowing and vigorous assertion of gospel truths which
delights us in the pages of Fox and Penn. The pungent
and arousing appeals which stud like gems the writings of
his two brethren are not to be found in his pages. Silent
waiting on God is urged, entire self-surrender to God on the
(vi)
part of the Christian is insisted on with great earnestness.
But the reader will look in vain, even in passages which
seem to invite them, for earnest calls to repentance or to
diligent service of the gospel of Christ.
The Quakerism of the eighteenth century followed
Barclay. The work of Fox was dropped. ]^o one continued
his vigorous aggression, but repression of activity was
advocated openly. To this I venture to trace the decline
of the Society in those days. In the Quakerism of to-day,
I think I see Fox's spirit, and I would fain help the healthy
reaction, however feebly, by these sketches. I hope they
will also introduce to some Christians of other denominations
three beautiful examples of spiritual-mindedness.
In the preparation of the sketches of Penn and Barclay,
I have had access to numerous unpublished letters in the
keeping of a member of the Barclay family. For these I
desire to express my warmest thanks. I have used them
sparingly. A list of those from which I give extracts will
be found on the next page. To the best of my knowledge
these extracts have not been printed before.
It is not probable that I shall continue the series of
sketches to which this trio forms an appropriate introduction.
But I am glad thus to acknowledge my indebtedness to a
Society to which I owe more than I can ever repay. [N'one
of its members long more fervently than I do that the spirit
and labours of its first days may distinguish it again.
Batheaston,
near Bath.
LIST OF LETTERS
• (hitherto unpublished).
From, which extracts are given in this volume.
From Geo. Fox to Robert Barclay, dated 16. x. 1675, quoted pp. 84, 113
" Geo. Keith to E. Barclay, 12. m. 1676 54, 114
" D. Barclay to R. Barclay do 113
" R. Barclay to the Prmcess Elizabeth, 6. vii. 1676 121
" the Princess Elizabeth to R. Barclay, Dec. 1. 1676 122
Do. do. Mar. 1.1677 126
Do. do. July 6. 1677 126
R. Barclay to the Princess Elizabeth, 6. v. 1679 127
the Duke of York to R. Barclay, June 27th, 1680 131
Geo. Fox to R. Barclay, 31. iv. 1680 129
Christian Barclay to Friends in Aberdeen, 15. vi. 1693 95
Wm. Penn to R. Barclay, junr., 7. xii. 1694 71
Hy. Gouldney to R. Barclay, junr., 28. xn. 1694 70
Sir D. Dalrymple to R. Barclay, junr., July 4th, 1710 76
R. Barclay's "Vindication" quoted pp. 91, 120, 137, 138.
(Tii)
GEOEGE FOX,
THE
FIRST OF THE QUAKERS.
" This man, the first of the Quakers, and by trade a Shoemaker,
was one of those to whom, under ruder or purer form, the Divine
Idea of the Universe is pleaded to manifest itself." — Carhjle.
** That nothing may be between you and God, but Christ." — George
Fox,
PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.
The Author has long believed that a popular sketch of
the Life and Work of George Fox was wanted. His noble
labours in the Gospel, and the many excellences of his char-
acter are not known as they deserve to be. The story of
his life is full of dramatic interest, and the author has en-
deavoured to tell it with sympathy and yet with faithful nes.-^.
Too few outside the Society of Friends are aware of the
great and happy change which has lately come over it.
The cramping influence of custom and precedent is yielding
to the free spirit which first made the Society a power. In
the present remodelling of its '' Practice and Discipline,"
the study of its early days is of great importance. And
for a fervent and constraining piety, for free and large-
hearted devotion to " the truth " wherever it leads, few men
are more worthy of study and imitation at the present day
than George Fox.
Should this effort prove a success, companion sketches
of Penn and Barclay will shortly follow.
The Manse,
Eatheaston, near Bath ;
September, 1883.
PREFACE TO THE PRESENT EDITION.
That " a popular sketch of the Life and Work of George
Fox was wanted," was proved by the sale of 1500 copies of
this pamphlet within six months of its publication. The
opinions expressed by competent judges made me feel that
I had not laboured in vain. Ministers of various denomi-
nations wrote to thank me, and to confess that they had not
understood George Fox before.
This Second Edition contains little that is new, but in
the sketch of Barclay will be found several extracts from
Fox's letters hitherto unpublished.
aEOEGE FOX,
THE
FIRST OF THE QUAKERS.
THE Protestant E-eformation was at once a revolt
against the claims of Popery, and an assertion of
the authority of the New Testament. In neither par-
ticular did it satisfy the early Quakers. In their opin-
ion it retained some remnants of Popery to its great
disfigurement, whilst it was timid and halting in its
acceptance of some of the teachings of the Christian
dispensation. They regarded it as their work to reject
the forms and ceremonies and "priestly pretentions''
that had been retained, in order to reproduce the spir-
itual worship and simple church life of the apostolic
days. Especially they believed themselves raised up to
assert the living presence of Christ with his church by
his Holy Spirit. They jDrotested that feeble life, how-
ever orthodox its creed, was as dishonouring to Christ,
and as unworthy of these days of the large outpouring
of the Holy Ghost, as was formalism itself. The first
and chief exponent of these views was George Fox.
George Fox was born at Fenny Drayton, in Leices-
tershire, in 1624. His parents were pious members of
the Church of England, and he tells with satisfaction
that his father was generally denominated " righteous
Christer," whilst his mother sprung from " the stock of
the Martvrs."
His religious life seems to have commenced almost in
infancy. His childhood and youth were marked by a
sober bearing, a precocious thoughtfulness, and a love
3
4 George Fox,
of solitude, which made many notice him ; and it was
proposed to make him a clergyman. Accordingly, Na-
thaniel Stevens, the pa-rish priest, seems to have re-
garded him hopefully, until his deepening experience
made the youth aware how blind his guide was, when
the former friend became a bitter persecutor. But as
some of George's friends objected to his entering the
church, he became, in the mingling of businesses so
common in that day, shoemaker and shepherd, excelling
in the latter contemplative employment, which his
friend, William Penn, regards as a fit emblem of his
future work. Though he had received only the plain-
est English education, yet the keen cravings of his
strong mind, together with his earnest Bible-reading and
much careful thought, soon made him at home in Chris-
tian truth, the great topic of conversation and theme of
discussion in that age. A noble, severe truthfulness
foreshadowed his future teachings, and indicated the
stamp of the man. It " kept him to yea and nay,''
refusing all asseveration or other strengthening of his
statements, excepting his favourite " verily." But
people remarked that if George said " verily " it was
impossible to move him. His own strict and pure life
made him feel keenly the poor living of some who made
great professions.
But his great preparation for his future work was soon
to begin. In his 20th year, his soul began to be racked
with conflicts, the nature and source of which he could
not understand. This crisis in Fox's history is generally
spoken of as his conversion. In some respects it resem-
bles more the deepening and intensifying of a life which
already existed. His spiritual nature was waking up to
vigorous life. The slight and ill-grasped views which
had satisfied the boy did not satisfy the man. They
seemed to give no real and sufficient answer to his ques-
tionings. He wanted to understand the meaning of life,
the plans of God, and his own part in them. In religion
The Firsi of the Quakers 5
he felt that there fehoitld be the clearest and strongest
mental grasp, insight into the very heart and core of
things. He had only seen as in a mist. Where was
the seer that could show, by his apt and living words
and his accent of conviction, that the veil had been
lifted up for him, and that he had verily seen the
Shekinali ? To such a one he would listen reverently
if he could find him ; all others seemed mere triflers to
his earnest mood. Then again, if God was a real
Father, he felt that real and close relations with him
must be possible, but he sadly owned that he did not
enjoy those relations, and asked himself and others
" Why am I thus ? " He began to look facts intently
in the face, to find out their meaning. He looked at
himself and saw only sin ; he looked into the professing
church, and even there saw the same sad sight. It made
him ask, was the gospel a mistake and Christ powerless ?
Or was he worse than others that his soul should be in
such darkness and distress? Was he worse than in
former days when he enjoyed comfort, and when the Lord
shewed him some of his truth ? Had he sinned too
deeply to be allowed to enjoy peace ? Had he sinned
against the Holy Ghost ?
In his anguish, like a good churchman he went to
his vicar, and asked him to explain his condition to him,
but he could not. Then he sought other clergymen,
who had a name for strict living or wisdom, but they
could give him no help, though he went as far as
London in the quest. Some of the advice which he
received, he mentions with a pity that is keener than the
severest sarcasm. One bade him sing psalms and chew
tobacco; another wished to bleed him, but his large
frame had been brought into such a condition by his
distress, that no drop of blood would flow from him.
Such blindness was not peculiar to the clergy. His
friends proposed to relieve his sorrows by excitement,
and by diverting his attention. Some recommended
6 George Fox,
liim to marry, but he sadly replied lie was but a lad and
must gain wisdom. Others would have him enlist and
seek diversion in the exciting events of the civil war ;
but says Marsden, the historian of the Puritans, " though
the bravest man in England, perhaps, if moral courage
is bravery, he detested the business of the soldier. Far
other thoughts possessed his mind. He had been re-
ligiously educated by Puritan parents of the Church of
England, and he was now awaking to the consideration
of his eternal state."
Meanwhile he fasted often and searched the Scrip-
tures with desperate earnestness. He wandered in
solitary places, and spent hours in the trunks of hollow
trees in meditation and prayer. Disappointed in the
clergy, he turned to the dissenters with no better
success. Evidently the thing was of God, for he missed
men like Baxter, who could have given him at least
good counsel and Christian sympathy. Fox was for
some time in Coventry, in 1643, when Baxter was
l^reaching there, one part of the day to the garrison, and
the other to the civilians. But possibly if they had met,
Baxter's hatred of heresy might have overborne his
charity, and obscured his spiritual vision, and he might
have branded Fox as a heretic, just as he afterwards
dubbed his followers " malignants." *
*A similar experience is to be found in the unpublished memoir of
that pious and accomplished Quakeress, Miss P. H. Gurney, p. 43.
'* I was painfully struck with the want of any sign of true devotion or
spiritual mindedness in the several congregations I attended in
London, both in preachers and hearers. Had I gone, as I once felt
some inclination to do, to that called St. Mary Woolnoth, (Jno.
Newton's) I might have found an exception to this description; but
being accidently prevented, I have sometimes thought it was in the
ordering of Providence that whatever of spiritual religion was then
circulating in the national church, I was not permitted to find it,
though I sought it with the most earnest desire of success." Miss
Gurney took these facts as a proof that God intended that she should
turn Quakeress ; but surely the true explanation of these providences
is that God will have us look to Him, and not rest unduly on any man
or human system. He spoils our idols that we may worship only Him.
Tlte First of tlic Qicjihcrs. 7
Every experienced pastor must have met Avitli such
cases. Until God satisfies the soul the words of men are
vain; when His hour has come, the truth which brings
light and peace is often one that lias been explained and
urged before. George Fox had to learn that it is God's
work to enlighten, that there is still to be enjoyed a
real guidjuice of the Holy Spirit, resulting in the
solution of difficulties and mysteries, in a clear appre-
hension of the truth, and a soul-satisfying sense of its
power. And if the lesson was slowly and hardly learnt,
it resulted in a clearer insight into the truth, and more
litness to deal with other tried souls.
At times during these days of trial the dark clouds
broke, and for a time the sun shone through. But
until lie learnt that Christ was to be his Teacher and
Comforter, it was but for a time. It was a short respite
to gather strength, a brief foreshadowing of tlie coming
joy. Hear his touching thanksgiving for the goodness
that did not break the bruised reed. " As I cannot de-
clare the misery I was in, it was so great and heavy upon
me, so neither can I set forth the mercies of God to me
in my misery. Oh ! the everlasting love of God to my
soul wdien 1 vfas in distress. When mv torments and
troubles were great, then was His love exceeding great.
Thou, Lord, makest the fruitful field a wilderness, and
a barren wilderness a fruitful field. Thou brino-est
down and settest up. Thou killest and makest alive.
All honour and glory be to Thee, O Lord of Glory.
The knowledge of Thee in the Spirit is life." But the
clouds finally passed away, and abiding sunshine settled
on him, wdien Christ revealed Himself to him as the
Great Physician, for whom he had been longing so
earnestly. His troubles had lasted three years, and, no
doubt, had been aggravated by his * morbid fears and
mistaken loneliness. But through life his nature was
keenly susceptible; for example, the sins of the nation
at the Ilestoration made him blind and seriously ill wdth
8 George Fox,
grief, in spite of active work and much society, No
wonder then that his anguish wore him out at tlie time
when his soul was in the dark, and when that which
appeared to him alone worth living for seemed denied
him. But now that he was weaned from trusting in an
_ arm of flesh, came the time of divine deliverance.
"When all my hopes in them (the dissenters) and in
all men were gone, so that I had nothing outwardly to
help me, nor could I tell what to do, then, O ! then, I
heard a voice which said, * There is one, even Jesus
Christ, that can speak to thy condition,' and when I
heard it my heart did leap for joy. Then the Lord did
let me see why there was none upon the earth that could
speak to my condition, namely, that I might give him
all the glory. For all are concluded in sin and shut up
in unbelief as I had been, that Jesus Christ might have
the pre-eminence, who enlightens and gives grace, faith,
and power. Thus when God doth work who shall let
it? And this I knew experimentally. My desires after
the Lord grew stronger, and zeal in the pure knowledge
of God and of Christ alone, without the aid of any man,
book, or writing. For though I read the Scriptures
that spake of Christ and of God, yet I knew Him not
but by revelation, as tie who hath the key did open,
and as the Father of Life drew me to His Son by His
^Sj)irit."
This discovery was to Fox what the unfolding of the
great doctrine of justification by faith was to Luther.
It was not only the commencement of a new life, it was
the theme of his life-long ministry, and the special mes-
sage which he was raised up to deliver to the world.
In neither case was there the revelation of a new truth,
only an old truth was to be emphasized, and to take its
right place in the minds and hearts of men.
To this grand truth, that Christ is still with us to
guide us by His Holy Spirit into all truth. Fox hence-
forth trusted to clear up all doubts, and to unfold all
Tlie First of the Quakers. "9
truths, and to explain tlie Holy Scriptures. So in our
day has Mr. Moody set forth j^jrayer as the all-sufficient
j)ractical commentator on the Bible. Henceforth, Fox
expected Divine prompting to every service and Divine
guidance in its performance, and without these he would
not move. He had already been convinced of several
])oints afterwards prominent in Quakerism, especially
that no place or building can properly be called " holy
ground," and that a University training was not a sujp-
ficient qualification for the ministry. As to the last
point, just as the modern Quaker apostle, Stephen
Grellet, said he could no more make a sermon than he
could make a world, so did Fox protest against a man-
made minister. As he w^as ever the enlightened and
persistent advocate of sound education, this contention
must not be mistaken for a contempt of human learning
in its right place. It was but an emphatic assertion
that the only availing spiritual knowledge comes not
through human teaching but through the teaching of
the Holy Spirit; and that, on the other hand, where
He calls a man to the office of the ministry, the absence
of a scholastic training was an utterly insufficient reason
for interfering with the call. The abundant blessing
which attended the preaching of Fox, Bunyan and
other *^ unlearned and ignorant men," gave emphasis to
this doctrine in that age. To these views the other
Quaker " testimonies " were speedily added, and soon
the whole scheme of doctrine was complete in his mind.
Two points must here be insisted upon : — 1st, neither
George Fox nor any of the early Friends, though their^
language is sometimes hazy, ever claimed to be inspired.
Says a recent authority, [Fielden Thorp, B. A., in the
Friends' Quarterly Examiner for April, 1870,] "It has
often been a cause of satisfaction to us that nowhere in
the authorised documents of our society is the word (in-
spiration) applied to the ministry of Friends." Secondly,
notice that Fox was most careful to note how his con-
10 George Fox,
victlons corresponded with Holy Scripture. So lie
says, " When I had openings they answered one another,
and answered the Scriptures, for I had great openings
of the Scriptures."* Whilst, then, the fallibility of the
ministry is acknowledged, and the infallibility of the
Bible asserted, surely the doctrine of the Divine Guidance
is not perverted through insufficient safeguards. But
we are not prepared in all points to defend Fox's appli-
cation of the doctrine. Possibly he sometimes mistook
the workings of his own mind for the promptings of the
Holy Spirit. Nor are his theology and his interpreta-
tions of Scripture beyond criticism. His ideas on the
Divine In-dwelling took the form of the famous doctrine
of the Seed or Light within. But though the teaching
and guidance of the Holy Spirit are taught by Friends
as distinctly as ever, it is questionable whether the doc-
trine of the Light within in the precise form in which
Fox preached it, and Barclay developed it theologically,
has obtained the general acceptance of the Society. It cer-
tainly is not to be found in its authorised publications, such
as the official *^ Doctrine, Practice and Discipline." It '
speaks well for the independence of thought in the society,
that the pet-child of its great leaders should be abandoned
when it failed to secure their conscientious assent.f
*The following passage from an American life of George Fox, coming
from a reliable Quaker source, corroborates this assertion. Speaking
of the early Friends the writer says : — " Their belief in a divine com-
munication between the soul of man and its Almighty Creator,
through the medium of the Holy Spirit, by which the Christian may
be * led into all truth,' did not at all lessen their regard for the author-
ity of the Holy Scriptures as the test of doctrines. They constantly
professed their willingness that all their principles and practices
should be tried by them; and that whatsoever any, w^ho pretended to
the guidance of the Spirit, either said or did which was contrary to
their testimony, ought to be rejected as a Satanic delusion ; and also,
that * what is not read therein nor may be proved thereby, is not to
be required of any man that it should be believed as an article of
faith.' " Page 357.
fThe reader will not mistake this for an assertion that Friends have
surrendered the doctrine of the Divine guidance and indwelling. For
a fuller discussion of the question see the close of the sketch of Barclay.
The Firat of the Quakers, 11
Pinee ]\[acaulay so grossly caricatured Fox, it has
been assumed that lYnin and Barclay added to Fox's
ideas whatever was meritorious in Quakerism. On the
contrary, not only the theokjgy of the society and its
polity, but also its philanthropy and its enlightened
views on religious liberty, must be ascribed to him as
their chief exponent. If the Quakers object to call him
their Founder, it is only because they wish to honour
God, rather than the human instrument. They never
hesitate to give him his due, nor do they falsify their
own teachings by seeking to w^in favour for thein by great
names. There is no clearer testimony than that of Penn,
that Fox's services received full recognition in the Society
during his life-time. Indeed the position accorded him
moved the envy of some, in spite of his own meekness
and humble carriage.
Fox's personal spiritual experience may be regarded
as the laying of the foundation-stone of Quakerism.
Now let us turn to the rearing of the superstructure.
Having learnt where to look for help and enlightenment,
his heart soon found rest. His bodily strength returned,
and his mind as wx^ll as his soul received a vast impulse.
He seemed to have a sympathetic insight not only into
the hearts of men, but also into the secrets of nature, so
that at one time he questioned whether he ought not to
practice medicine. To the end of his life he remained
an ardent lover of nature and of science, so that his
friend, William Penn, calls him "a divine and natu-
ralist too, and all of God Almighty's making." But
soon he settled doAvn to his true life-work as an itinerant
preacher of the gospel. His patrimony was sufficient to
enable him to devote himself freely to the work. In his
wanderings in search of light, he had made the acquaint-
ance of many anxious seekers after truth. To these he
naturally went in the joy and ardour of his heart, to
tell them what God had taught him ; and many of them
received "the truth." His fii'st convert was a woman,
12 Georje FoXy
Elizabeth Hooton, who also became the first lady
preacher in the new Society, and after much service
died in the West Indies, whilst accompanying Fox and
others on a preaching tour. Soon we find him preaching
in ordinary congregations, and in the conferences
common in that day, and gaining a name for spiritual
discernment.
Though but a youth of 23 when he began to preach,
there was a spiritual power attending his ministry that
was remarkable. Macaulay speaks of his " chant " in
preaching; many Welsh preachers now "chant" the
gospel with great effect, and the recitative in Mrs. Fry's
ministry was acknowledged to be wonderfully impres-
sive. But it must not be supposed that it was deliber-
ately chosen, it is probable that he fell into it uncon-
sciously. The intensity of his emotion too added to the
impression ; his large frame quivered and shook with
his strong feeling. Charles Lamb has given a vivid
description of what he calls " The Foxian orgasm : ''
probably the descrijDtion would accurately apply to Fox.
We can judge from his Journal how keen and penetrat-
ing his appeals must have been, and how exultant his
praises and thanksgivings.
Then again he preached, not metaphysics, nor formal
theology, but a living, present Christ. He told his ex-
perience with pathos and power. No wonder that
people wept and laughed for joy, for they felt it was
true glad tidings that he brought. His word was
literally " in power and in the Holy Ghost, and in much
assurance," and many received it as the word of God to
them. Soon his converts were numbered by hundreds.
In 1647 he first began to preach publicly, and in that
and the next year several " meetings " were gathered.
Any one who passes along the East Lancashire Railway
from Colne to Burnley, must be struck by the towering
grandeur of Pendle Hill ; and if he climbs it, he will be
rewarded by a glorious panorama. AVhilst looking on
The First of the Q'Bxkers, 13
this magnificent view, George Fox tells us lie had a
vision, in which he saw that this region would be the
home of thousands of Quakers ; and certainly nowhere
did Quakerism find such a stronghold, and receive such
sturdy helpers and gifted preachers. Alas ! the glory
has departed ! Partly as the result of extensive emigra-
tion, many of the meeting-houses then so full of devout
worshippers are now empty, whilst in some others a
formal few, whom Fox would hardly acknowledge as his
followers, meet in cold silence sabbath by sabbath.
Fox did not long work single-handed ; in a few years,
especially from this district on and about the Penine
Range, a band of preachers gathered round him whom
Quakers still delight to honour. In 1654 he tells us
there were sixty preaching in all parts of England and
Wales. Some of his helpers had been ministers, like
Francis Howgill and John Audland. But it wa^ not
taken for granted that they would still preach, unless
there was the manifest call. Thus Thomas Lawson, a
clergyman at Eamside near Ulverston, a man of con-
siderable learning, seems to have relinquished preaching
when he was converted by Fox. He was a great
botanist, and says Sewell, "one of the most skilful
herbalists in England," so he seems to have gained his
livelihood by this skill and by tuition. Yet the author-
ess of " The Fells of Swarthmoor Hall " calls him a
man of fervid eloquence, so that it was not lack of gifts
that kept him from preaching, but it must have been
the persuasion that he was not called to the work. So
in our own day, that master of eloquence, John Bright,
though a man of strong religious feeling, never preaches,
in spite of the freedom which Quakerism allows.
Besides clergymen and other ministers, the converts
included magistrates, like Justice Hotham and Anthony
Pearson, author of " The Great Case of Tithes ; " and
ofiicers in the army like Col. West and Capt. Pursloe,
besides gentlemen of substance and standing like I.
14 "^George Fox,
Pennington, and scholars like Samuel Fisher and
Thomas Lawson just mentioned. But among them all
Fox stood chief, not only as the father of the fathers
among them, but also in his firm and clear grasp of
the truth, his entire devotion, his gifts of leadership, his
many labours and sufferings, and his God-given success.
"I notice," says a contemporary letter, 'Hhat in any
company when George is present all the rest are silent; "
and a joint letter by Edward Burrough and Francis
Howgill says, " Oh but for one hour of his company !
what a treasure it would be to us ! " Even those who
had held similar views before they met with him, often
gained from him more clearness of view and fulness of
knowledge.
The manner of conducting the Quaker " meetings for
worship," was the result of practical conviction rather
than of theory. They thought that for Christians to
meet together in order to go through a stated form of
service, was at once to cramp the outpouring of the
heart to God, and to interfere with the Holy Spirit in
his direction of tlie utterances of Christ's ministers.
When they met in silence, each could speak to God
what was in liis heart, and each could hear in his spirit
'' what God the Lord would speak ; " and if any one was
" moved " to declare any truth, the way was clear. Thus
Christ was owned practically as a present Lord, and the
Holy Spirit trusted as a real and practical guide. They
read in their New Testaments that when the saints met
together, all the gifted might prophesy one by one as
anything was revealed to them ; and that each might
contribute to the service his psalm of thanksgiving, or
hymn of adoration, or edifying doctrine. It seemed to
them that in the " apostacy " of the churches not only
the rights of private Christians, but the claims of the
Holy Spirit had been interfered with by the " one-man
ministry." And probably none of them, whatever his
gift of discernment, imagined in those days of burning
The First of the Quakers, 15
zeal and abundant labonrs, that tlie time would come
when their simple system woukl prove a rigid bond,
which would leave half their meetings w^ithout ministry
of any kind. Encouragement of a true ministry is as
needful as discouragement of the spurious.
Very early in the history of the Society, tlie distin-
o'uishino' views of Friends on the Sacraments were
clearly enunciated. In 1656, Fox sent out a manifesto
clearly stating his views, especially on the Lord's Su[)-
per. He thought the outward rites were simply adap-
tations of Jewish customs, temporary condescensions to
the weakness of the converts from Jud;iism until the
destruction of Jerusalem, and even during tliat period,
optional, not obligatory. If the early Christians kept
up the old custom of sipj)ing the wine and breaking the
bread, then they must do it in remembrance of Christ's
death, and not of tlie deliverance from the bondage of
Egypt. But he believed the outward rite Jewish in its
style, and foreign to the pure spirituality of Christianity.
So also with regard to Baptism.'^
There were two kinds of service which the devoted
leader rendered to Christian truth — he preached it with
zeal and unction, and he suffered for its sake. His suf-
ferings were unquestionably often the result of his own
unwisdom. Many Friends themselves now lament his
want of a conciliatory spirit. Ho could not put himself
in the place of others, so as to see how they viewed
himself, his conduct and his claims. Thus he was con-
stantly led to impute dishonest and imj)ure motives to
others if they did not agree with him. All but his own
unpaid ministers were " priests " and " hirelings " and
so on. But nothing can justify the treatment he
received, often through the connivance, sometimes from
the instigation, of clergymen and magistrates. White-
field's hootings and peltings were nothing, in comparison
■'''The other leading " testimonies " of Friends were against all "war,
and against oaths, even in a court of justice.
16 George Fox,
with Fox's stonings, and brutal beatings, and horrible
imprisonments. As Marsden says, " He rebuked sin
with the authority of a prophet, and he met with a
j)rophet's reward/'
We must remember in extenuation of his admitted
faults that he aimed to be a reformer, appealing afresh
to first principles in conduct, and seeking to arouse
others to feel their force. He purposely set himself
against mere conventionalism, especially when it fostered
pride or cloaked some rottenness in society. When per-
secuted, he never resorted to flattery or depended on
wheedling, but appealed to conscience and to the humane
or Christian feelings which ought to have been in the
breast of the persecutor.
He proved to the full the power of passive endurance.
Smitten on the one cheek, he literally turned the other.
He believed that a large share of his work for the
Master was in the testimony of suffering, and he was
more anxious to be obedient than to avoid what seemed
to him the pains and penalties of obedience. He would
not w^alk out of j)risoa unless he could do it not only
honourably, but conscientiously, satisfied that he was
not flinching from his appointed testimony. He truly
gloried in afflictions for Christ's sake. While refusing
to honour an unchristian statute by keeping it, lie bore
l^aticntly and unresistingly the legal penalties, unshaken
in his loyalty to the government and unsoured in his
disposition towards mankind. But further. Fox clearly
saw that endurance was sure to end in victory, and he
inspired his friends with the same conviction. " The
more they imprison me," he writes triumphantly, " the
more the truth spreads." In the same S23irit said
William Penn at a later date, '^ I will weary out their
malice. Neither great nor good things were ever
attained without loss and hardship. The man that
would reap and not labour must perish in disa|)point-
ment." No wonder that men grew weary of punishing
The First of the Quakers. 17
those who endured in this spirit. No wonder that the
lofty conscientiousness of the Quakers was felt to be the
salt which had a large share in counteracting the
corruption of the Stuart reigns, and in preserving our
civil and religious liberties. Says Orme in his Life of
Baxter, *' The heroic and persevering conduct of the
Quakers in withstanding the interferences of govern-
ment w^ith the rights of conscience, by which they finally
secured those peculiar privileges they so richly deserve
to enjoy, entitles them to the veneration of all the friends
of civil and religious liberty." And again he says,
'' Had there been more of the same determined spirit
among others which the Friends displayed, the suffer-
ings of all parties would sooner have come to an end.
The government must have given way, as the spirit of
the country would have been effectually roused. The
conduct of the Quakers was infinitely to their honour."
Meanwhile Fox abounded in labours, sparing no
exertions to make known the truth and to plead for
righteousness. He sought a purer life as much as a
purer faith. He went into public houses to plead for
temperance, and into fairs to plead for uprightness and
honesty, and into courts to plead for justice, as well as
into churches to plead for spiritual religion. We must
not forget that in those fermenting times it was no
uncommon thing for questions and remarks to be thrown
at the preacher during divine service, and it was consid-
ered quite in order for any one to address the people
after the clergyman had finished his sermon. Thus
when Fox was speaking in the Ulverston Church,
Justice Sawrey cried, " Take him away," but Margaret
Fell interposed, ** Let him alone ; why may not he speak
as well as any other f* So that these interruptions were
not considered so strange and disorderly then as they
seem to us now. But public feeling was against the man
and against the truths he preached, and to that public
feeling he could not and would not yield. He could
18 George FoXy
not take off lils liat before the great, for that was an
honour which he reserved for God alone. He felt bound
to protest against all flattering titles and speeches, wdiich,
though the world counts them harmless civilities, seemed
to his sober spirit and delicate conscience such as should
neither be given nor received by the followers of the
lowly Nazarene. His *Uhee and thou," and 23lain
speaking, and sober dress, and keen rebukes, brought
on him a perfect storm of anger and abuse. He felt
that he stood in the forefront of the battle against
worldliness, and bore the brunt of it; and he was
meekly thankful for such an honourable j)ost.
His first imprisonment was at Nottingham, for inter-
rupting divine service; but he had his triumph, the
very Sheriff was converted, and compelled by his new-
found zeal to go forth into the market-place, and take
up the imprisoned preacher's work. His second term
soon followed at Derby, on a charge of blasphemy.
He believed in the doctrine of perfection, and told those
who opposed him that they pleaded for sin. The Derby
Magistrates asked him if he was sanctified, and he an-
swered, '^ Yes." " Then they asked me if I had no sin ?
I answered ' Christ my Saviour has taken av/ay my sin
and in Him there is no sin.' They asked how we knew
that Christ did abide in us ? I said, ^ By His Spirit
that he has given us.' They temptingly asked if any
of us were Christ ? I answered, ' Nay, we were nothing,
Christ is all.' " Yet they found him guilty of blasphemy,
confounding him w^ith the fanatical, antinomian lianters.
But if he taught perfection. Oh! how he lived! Let
those that reject his teaching excel, or at least equal, his
living. In Derby, his jailer was converted, to strengthen
and comfort him in his sufferings. Whilst in prison
his busy pen poured forth many letters of advice to
Friends, and " testimonies " against all forms of iniquity,
including war and capital punishment.
Before he was 27, Fox had passed through more
TIlc First of the QuahcTS. 19
yaried experience tlian many liave in a long lifetime.
Honour and revilings, converts and imprisonments, love
for the gospel's sake and cruel beatings by the mob,
nearly ending in death — these had already been his
])ortion. But his work was now bearing much fruit.
In one twelve-months, 1650-1, he gained such staunch
helpers as llichard Farnsworth, James Nayler, William
Dewsbury, Justice Ilotham, and Captain Purslow. Soon
afterwards the Fells of Swarthmoor were led to Christ
by his preaching and became the most devoted of ad-
herents. Soon his followers could be numbered by
thousands. It was not the strength of his arguments
that gained them ; the age was overdone with reasoning.
Fox mocked their syllogisms with grim humour. There
was a wonderful spiritual power about him. He spoke
naturally, with simple, direct earnestness, and over-
whelming vehemence, right to the conscience of the
hearers. He made people both listen and understand
him, and feel the power of the truth in a way which
many did not like. He was a wonderful evangelist.
What his cultured convert, Isaac Pennington, the
Rutherford of Quakerism, said of Friends generally, is
applicable to him. They might offend his taste and
move him to contempt by their intellectual poverty, but
they compelled him to respect their spiritual power and
their deep acquaintance with the things of God.
Then again the new Society vv^as a real brotherhood.
The members stood shoulder to shoulder as fellov/ ser-
vants of the one Master. Their only emulation was'
wliich should do most and suffer most cheerfully. Their ;
great question was *^ Lord, what wilt Thou have me toi
do ? Where wilt Thou have me to go ? '' The Jesuit
was ready to go at an hour's notice wherever the Pope
sent him. The Quaker was as ready in his obedience
to the voice within. Not only Great Britain, but Italy,
Turkey, Syria, and Egypt heard the truth before 1(3G2.
John Stubbs, "" a remarkable Oriental scholar," and
20 George Fox,
Henry Fell, wlio was also " well versed in Arabic and
Hebrew/' set out for the land of Prester John, but were
stopped by the English Consul at Alexandria. Their
leader was chief simply through gifts and devotedness.
So strongly were Friends attached to him that when he
was in Launceston gaol, one of them v/ent to Cromwell
and offered to lie in prison in his stead ; Avhichmade the
Protector turn to those aromid him and ask, " Which
of you would do as much for me if I were in the same
condition ? " And Fox showed himself worthy of such
devotion by always seeking the post of danger and the
most arduous work. Urgent he might be, for he was
tremendously in earnest, but to speak as Hepworth
Dixon does of his " imperious instincts " simply shows
ignorance of the man.
For centuries no such zealous and noble-spirited
evangelism had been seen. No wonder that it won its
way. Many who had been rich, like Isaac Pennington,
were content to become poor by fines and distraints for
"the truth's sake." Most nobly did they help each
other. If they did not insist on community of goods
as a theory, they carried out the spirit of it in practice.
There are two marked stages in Fox's work ; first the
Evangelistic Stage, and then the Organising Stage,
which was, of course, overlapt by the other. Let us
trace the salient points in his evangelistic work. In
1654 he was brought before Cromwell, and made a
good impression on that keen judge of men. His sin-
cerity stood testing, his zeal for God was manifestly gen-
uine, and the grand, though not faultless Protector,
learnt heartily to respect him. As he was turning to
leave him, Cromwell caught him by the hand and said,
" Come again to my house, for if thou and I were but
an hour of a day together, we should be nearer one to
the other." Next year he visited him again, to lay
before him the ill-treatment to which Friends were
subjected.
The First of the Quakers, 21
The meetings now gathered, wherever " tlie man in
leather breeches " went were immense. At one in Bristol,
he tells us, 10,000 people were ])resent, and often 20U0 or
3000 are mentioned as collecting to hear him. The en-
ergetic evangelist often had periods of grudged but not
useless interru{)tion of his labours by imprisonment. In-
deed, as Mr. W. E. Forster says, he " would have been
qualified to draw up a report of the state of the gaols of
the Island, so universal and experimental was his ac-
quaintance with them." But his imprisonments did not
make him cease from labour. He wrote innumerable
letters and tracts, and he preached the gospel to those
that came to see him with such ejHect, that one of Crom-
well's Chaplains said they could not do him a greater
service for spreading his principles in Cornwall, than to
imprison him in Launceston gaol.
In 1656 occurred the sad episode of James Nayler's
fall. He had been one of the most popular of the
Quaker preachers, and had enjoyed the warm friendship
of Fox and other leaders. But extravagant praise
turned his head so far tliat he listened to blasphemous
songs and invocations addressed to him by excited
women, allowed them to kneel before him, and even to
welcome him to Bristol with a horrible parody of our
Lord's triumphal entry into Jerusalem. These miser-
able proceedings he did not like, but he excused them
as honors done, not to him, but to Christ his Lord. The
way in which Fox and other Friends acted in this matter
was most praiseworthy. Many of the enthusiasts wdio
misled Nayler were not truly Friends at all, and yet the
Society was credited with fanaticism on account of their
proceedings. Their enemies exulted in a clear case
against them, and the religious world seemed justified
in regarding them with suspicion. But in spite of all
this, the Friends clung to the deluded man, and tried
every means to open his eyes. George Fox visited him
in Exeter gaol, and used every power of reason and per-
22 George Fox,
suasion, and at last finding lie could do nothing with
him, sadly gave him to understand that their friendship
was at an end, and that Friends could no lonwr reo-ard
liim as one of them. Yet still they visited him, and
tried hard to gain the Protector and Parliament to their
humane view of the right way of dealing with the case,
and they had their reward. The cloud that obscured
his mental vision passed away, and he deeply and truly
rej)ented of his sad error. He published a full recant-
ation, took upon himself the whole blame, absolving the
Society from all share ; and endeavoured in every way
to undo the mischief he had done. But whilst their
love and gentleness had thus conquered, the barbarous
spirit of the age had vindicated orthodoxy, by passing
and executing the horrible sentence of branding and
tongue boring. And it is sad to think, that the man
who endured this torture was already a repentant man,
won by love, not by severity, to confess and renounce
his sin. The Quakers at once received him into
full confidence and esteem, and helped him, in truly
Christian fashion, to bear the results of his fall. Thus
early in their history, in the midst of an age of much
persecution and bigotry, were established those habits of
loving Christian discipline, which have so nobly distin-
guished the Society ever since. But the reclaimed
wanderer was not long allowed to continue his resumed
preaching. In the summer of 1660 he was taken ill,
and died in his 44th year.
In the same year 1656, Fox tells us that more than
1000 Friends were in prison for conscience sake. But
though he had not been long out of prison, and was in
continual danger of arrest, he would not relax his
labours. lie extended the range of his evangelistic
efforts into Wales, and gained a rich harvest there, as he
had before amongst the equally fiery-souled Cornish men.
The style of his own preaching may be judged from his
exhortation to his fellow-ministers, penned whilst in
TIic First of the Quahcrs, 2
o
Launccston gaol. "Dwell in the power, life, wisdom
and dread of the Lord God of life and heaven and earth,
s])reading the truth ahrond, awakening the witness,
confounding the deceit, gatliering up out of transgression
into the life, the covenant of light and peace with God.
Let all the nations hear the sound by word or writing.
Spare no place, spare no tongue nor pen. Go through
tlie w^ork, and be valiant for the truth upon earth."
How like Wesley's assertion that the world was his
parish. Like him. Fox might have boasted that his
followers were all at work, and always at it. Like
Wesley, too, he wrote as he travelled, by which alone
we can account for the wonderful amount that he wrote.
He had no gift for literary composition ; his spelling
was erratic, and his sentences, like Paul's, w^ere long
and involved, probably because they both dictated their
letters hastily to some secretary. But if his letters
bear marks of haste, they are pithy, and pointed,
and full of gracious unction. Any spiritually-minded
Christian may greatly enjoy his fervent appeals and
powerful statements of Gospel truth. His letters and
tracts served the practical purpose for which they were
intended, and he was satisfied.
The year 1657 saw him enter Scotland, where he had
a presentiment that a glorious vintage was to be gathered.
He w^as met by determined opposition from ministers
and others, who smelt heresy in his teachings, especially
as he was an Aiminian. What they hated in him may
be seen from the following curses, w^hich, in the fiery
style of that age, were ])ronounced in kirk, the people
pronouncing the response. " Cursed is he that saith.
Every man hath a light within him sufiicient to lead
him to salvation : and let all the peo^^le say. Amen.
Cursed is he that saith, Faith is w^ithout sin : and let all
the people say. Amen. Cursed is he that denieth the
Sabbath-day : and let all the people say, Amen." But
for all this terrorism, within ten years there was a body
24 George Fox,
of Friends in Scotland, that, by tlieir earnest piety, and
solid consecrated learning, gladdened the heart of the
devoted leader.
The troubled times after the death of Cromwell tried
Friends in many ways. The Committee of Public Safety
sought to induce them to join the army, many of them
liaving been brave and efficient soldiers before their con-
vincement, but they unanimously refused. Attempts
were made to identify them with the Fifth Monarchy
men, and other disturbers of the public peace, for they
were disliked by almost every one ; but the prudence and
energy of Fox and others avoided these snares, and
gained the confidence of the powers that were.
When Charles II. ascended the throne he proved
even more friendly than Cromwell had been. Dr.
Stoughton says, '^ Charles had a sort of liking to the
Quakers for their harmlessness and their oddity. He
was not afraid of their taking up arms against the throne,
and to quiz them in their queer dresses and with their
quaint speech, was to him a piece of good fun." It
suited the merry Monarch to have pretty Quakeresses
like Sarah Fell coming with their petitions, enduring
his bantering demurely, and going away delighted with
the clemency he so often showed. In 1666 he granted
the release of George Fox from the sentence of pre-
munire. He had once before set him at liberty, only to
fall again into the clutches of the law. In March, 1664,
Fox had been brought before Justice Twisden, and
after a sham trial that was an outrage on both law and
humanity, the extreme sentence of the law in such cases,
the sentence of premunire, was passed, and he languished
in Lancaster gaol and Scarborough Castle for nearly
three years But at last the royal ear was gained, and
Fox, ill with hard treatment in the foul cells at
Scarborough, was restored to his liberty, his property,
and his civil rights. In prison he had been busy
writing in exposition of the views of Friends. After his
Tlte First of the Quakers. 25
release, for some time lie was principally engaged in
modelling the discipline and church government of the
Society.
]k^fore passing on to consider the organisation of the
Quaker community into a compact and well regulated
church, we must notice their conduct in the question of
marriage. *' IMarriage,'' said Fox, " is God's ordinance,"
believing literally the common saying that marriages are
made in heaven. But the solemn compact ouglit to be
publicly ratified, and what more fitting than that public
worship should attend that celebration. If Fox denied
that ministers could marry, if he insisted that the cere-
mony should consist simply of a mutual pledge j)ublicly
given, he was very careful that all should be done in
good order. The marriage customs which obtain
amongst Quakers to-day represent his views. The
young people must show that they are clear of other
marriage engagements, and have the consent of their
parents or guardians to their union. Sufficient public
notice must be given of the coming event, so as to
prevent all scandal and disorder. Then the marriage
is celebrated during a week-day service. In the early
days of the Society the j)ublication of the intended
marriage was no easy matter. " Many a joke must have
passed through the merry crowd, when, from the market-
cross of a country town, the expecting bridegroom
proclaimed his forthcoming nuptials — but no arrange-
ments of a loose or evasive character, would have saved
tlie marriages of Friends from the double brand of
public opinion and of national law." In 1661 the
legality of Quaker marriages was tested in Nottingham
before Justice Archer, and the point was forever set at rest.
Now let us turn to the work of Fox in the organisa-
tion of the Society. That the organisation was princi-
pally planned and carried out by him is past all doubt.
We will quote two out of immberless authorities.
Marsden says —
26 George Fox,
" To understand Quakerism the reader must compre-
hend the character of George Fox; for no institution
ever carried more thoroughly impressed upon it the
features of its chief." — 3Iarsden's Christian Churches,
p. 424. *
T. Hancock says, in his prize essay on the causes of
the decline of Quakerism —
" The master spirit and chief builder of Quakerism
was undoubtedly George Fox. . . When we come to
the second period, to the modelling of the Quaker con-
stitution and discipline to the Society of Friends, to
Quakerism as an ism, the hand of George Fox is still
more evident." — The Peculium, pp. &^, 65.
The views of Fox as to the church polity were
exceedingly simple. He had no intention of forming a
sect; he only met the needs of his friends, as the
exigences of the hour dictated. The less machinery the
better; the simpler the arrangements the more they
commended themselves to his judgment. His mind
was not hampered by theories. His aim was to recog-
nize the gifts of all, and not to have the life bound by
man's rules.
But there must be discipline in the church. The
disorderly must be dealt with. The weak must be
helped. Many were thrown into prison or even banished ;
they must be relieved or cared for in the best way their
circumstances allowed. Many had lost all for conscience
sake; they must not be allowed to want. None so full
of pity for these sufferers, as he who suffered so refulily
himself. Almost his last words were, "" Remember poor
Friends in Ireland."
The New Testament was his only conscious rule,
j)raycrful waiting ujDon God for light his only expositor
* Fur this quotation and other valuable matter the writer is indebted
to the writings of Alderman Eowntree, of York, whose " Two Lectures
on George Fox" and prize essay on '* Quakerism, Past and Present "
are standard works on Quakerism.
TJte First of the Quakers, 27
of it. He might ask his learned friends for side-liglits
from church history, might ask them about the 2)ractice
of the early churcli, or the history of tlie corrupting
influence of certain fiilse doctrines. But he was emphat-
ically a man of one book, and he read that book with
his heart, more than wdth his penetrating mind.
That competent authority in all matters concerning
Quakerism, Mr. J. S. Eowntree, thus describes the
origin and progress of the Quaker discipline. " With
the rapid growth of the Society, George Fox increasingly
perceived the necessity for taking steps to repress the
outbursts of fanatical and misguided zeal, and for placing
the government of the church on a more systematic
basis. This decision w^as undoubtedly expedited by the
occurrence of a heresy fomented by John Perrott. . .
He had the satisfaction of seeing most of Perrott's ad-
herents make a public acknowledgment of their error,
and immediately afterwards, he initiated a national
system of disciplinary meetings, to be held monthly.
They consisted of the most experienced Friends wdthin
a given district ; and had the charge of the affairs of the
body within such district. The Quarterly Meetings
(many of which w^e have seen were already in existence)
were gradually put on a different basis, and consisted
henceforth of representatives fron a number of associ-
ated Monthly Meetings, whose decisions in some cases
were liable to revision by the superior meeting. It was
not till a somewhat later date that a central body — the
' Yearly Meeting ' of I.ondon — consisting of represent-
atives from all the Quarterly Meetings in the country,
was established as the top stone of this elaborate discip-
linary system. ... To the settlement of these
Monthly^ Meetings, George Fox most assiduously de-
voted himself in 1G67-68; and ere long, wherever
meetings for the worship of God were held after the
manner of Friends, little church synods were also held,
ministering to the wants of the poor, alleviating the
28 George FoXy
sorrows of tlie prisoners, seeking to reclaim disorderly
walkers, and when failing in this, disuniting them from
the body/' ('' Two Lectures on Macaulay's Portraiture
of George Fox," pp. 40-42.) It speaks volumes for the
sagacity of Fox that so little has needed to be added to
or altered in the Quaker polity since his day.
In 1666 the Barclays joined the society, and in the
next year William Penn was added to their number.
The learning of Robert Barclay, and social position and
administrative ability of William Penn, were soon ap-
preciated by the leadci' with whom they worked so
loyally.
In 1669 Fox visited Ireland, and in the same year he
was married to Margaret, widow of Judge Fell,of Swarth-
moor Hall. She had been one of his early converts, and
was one of his most vigorous helpers. She wrote almost
as many letters, and printed almost as many appeals as
her husband ; she visited the imprisoned, and sent re-
lief to their families. Her house was the home of all
Quakers visiting the neighborhood, and her purse was at
the service of all who needed money to serve the cause.
Her judgment was reliable and her energy untiring;
she w^as the Countess of Huntingdon of the Society.
She even endured long imprisonments, and risked, and
for a time endured, the loss of all her property by pre-
munire for the truth's sake. She was therefore a fit-
ting helpmeet for George Fox. She had four daughters
who were ministers in the Society, and the whole family
regarded him with reverence, except the scapegrace
elder son. He not only opposed the marriage, but with
the basest ingratitude, he endeavoured, after it was ac-
complished, to turn his mother out of her own home;
and he rests under at least grave suspicion of being a
party to the plot to have her sentenced to premunire/^
* The penalties of this sentence were, to be put out of the King's pro-
tection, to forfeit hinds and goods to the King, and to be Uable to im-
prisonment for Hfe or at the King's pleasure.
The First of the Quakers, 29
Fox acted throughout this affair with the greatest
prudence and magnanimity, lie would not even be
suspected of seeking worldly gain, but carefully secured
to Iiis wife and her family, the property which was hers
before their marriage. No wedding could be more
simple than his own. ''Afterwards,'' he says in his
journal, "a meeting being appointed on purpose for the
accomphshing thereof, in the public meeting-house at
Broadmead in Bristol, [the site cannot now be certainly
determined,] we took each other in marriage.
Then was a certificate, relating both the proceedings
and the marriage, openly read and signed by the rela-
tions, and by most of the ancient Friends of that city,
besides many other Friends from divers parts of the
nation." Evidently the ceremony caused considerable
excitement. His wife was ten years his senior.
But of home life they had little enough; in little
more than a week they parted, that the husband might
continue his labours, and soon after, the wife was cast
into prison, where she remained until 1671. Then
through the intercession of her daughters with the king
she was released, and the premunire, which had rested
on her for ten years, was removed. They had a few
days together before Fox sailed for the West Indies,
and again on his return, and so on.
Men and women who give their most intense and
sustained syn>pathies to christian enterprises, often have
to suffer for it in their home relations. " We were very
willing both of us,'' says Mrs. Fox after her husband's
death, '' to live apart for some years upon God's account
and His truth's service, and to deny ourselves of that
comfort which we might have in being together, for the
sake of the service of the Lord and His truth ; and if
any took occasion, or judged hard of us because of that,
the Lord will judge them, for we were innocent."
In the summer of 1671, George Fox and some other
Friends visited the West Indies and the continent of
30 George FoXy
America, to push the work of evangelisation and of
organising the societies there. They landed in Barba-
does, after a voyage enlivened by constant dangers from
the leakiness of the vessel, and once by an almost mi-
raculous escape from capture by a Sallee man-of-war.
Fox's son-in-law, John Rous, was in the company, and
on landing he was at once taken to the house of Mr.
Rous, senior, who was a wealthy sugar planter. Fox's
health had been so injured by the ill-usage which he
had endured at different times, and he sufiered so keenly
from the climate, that he had to remain at Mr. Kous's,
whilst his friends held meetings all around. But though
crippled in body his mind was vigorous. The marriage
regulations and discipline of the Society, and the duty
of giving Christian instruction to the negroes, engrossed
his attention. The question of slavery stirred his heart
to its depths ; and his vigorous language and action not
only did good then, but laid a right foundation for the
future action of the society. When the time came that
Friends had to consider the question of the abolition of
slavery, few things exerted so much influence in the
right direction, as Fox's clear statement of the issues
involved. His words were quoted, his reasonings were
expanded and enforced, and it was largely through his
influence that abolitionist principles became identified
with Quakerism.
Here, as elsewhere, the doctrines of the society had
been greatly misrepresented, so the famous letter to the
governor of Barbadoes was drawn up to explain them.
It is still often quoted as an admirable statement of the
views of the society. It is as near an approach to a
creed as anything can be, whrch originated from a soci-
ety which recognises only the Bible as authoritative,
and which objects to all human formularies.
The society in Barbadoes gained greatly in numbers
and strength by this visit. Jamaica, Maryland, North
Carolina and Virginia were next visited in the same
The First of the Quakers. 31
manner and with similar results. Laro-e numbers were
won to a christian life. The Indians and negroes were
recognised as having a claim to christian sympathy and
religious instruction. The societies were weeded of un-
worthy members, and their organisation successfully
accomplished. Then the party returned in safety to
England after an absence of a year and a half.
In 1G77 Fox carried these operations into Holland,
having with him his illustrious friends, Penn and Bar-
clay. " This visit of the three great apostles of Qua-
kerism," says Hepworth Dixon, " seems to have made
a great sensation ; scholars, merchants, government offi-
cers, and the general public crowded to hear them
preach, and the houses of the most noble and learned
men in the city of Van der Werf and Erasmus w^ere
thrown open to them freely. . . . Their journey
through the country was like a prolonged ovation."
The interesting ej)isode of the interview with the en-
lightened and large-hearted Princess Elizabeth, grand-
daughter of James I., scarcely belongs to this sketch, as
Fox did not join in it. But he wrote a lengthy epistle
of Christian counsel, and sent it by his daughter-in-law,
Mrs. Yeamans, and the Princess returned him this brief
but kindly reply : —
"Dear Friend, I cannot but have a tender love to
those that love the Lord Jesus Christ, and to whom it
is given, not only to believe in Him, but also to suffer
for Him ; therefore your letter, and your friend's visit,
have been both very welcome to me. I shall follow
their and your counsel as far as God will afford me
light and unction ; remaining still your loving friend,
Elizabeth."
He spent some time in Amsterdam "writing in truth's
account," and then returned home by Harwich. In
1B84 he paid another visit to Holland, the last of his
longer missionary journeys.
After this, finding his health shattered by his long
32 Oeorge Fox,
imprisonment and arduous labours, he settled down in
London, quietly, though not uselessly, awaiting the end.
His correspondence was most extensive, and he wrote
many tracts and pamphlets as was his habit. One of
his last letters was Avritten to the lately-bereaved widow
of Barclay, the Apologist, and is a model of Christian
consolation. He tells her : — '' Thou and thy family may
rejoice that thou hadst such an offering to offer up unto
the Lord as thy dear husband ; who, I know is w^ell in
the Lord in whom he died, and is at rest from his la-
bours, and his w^orks do follow him." He signs himself
one 'Svlio had a great love and respect for thy dear hus-
band, for his work and service in the Lord, who is con-
tent in the w^ill of God, and all things that he doeth —
and so thou must be." But besides this literary w^ork,
he laboured zealously in the pastoral work, visiting the
sick and afflicted, and endeavouring to '' bring into the
way of truth such as had erred."
He watched the passing of the Toleration Act with
the deepest interest. It was a most welcome relief to
Friends, especially those in Ireland. The losses sus-
tained by the Irish Quakers were enormous. In one
year (1689) they w^ere estimated at £100,000, many
being stripped of all they had (see Besse's Sufferings).
George Fox not only collected such facts as these for
publication, but, even in his last days of suffering and
prostration, attended at the House of Commons to inter-
est the members in the sufferings of his brethren, and
to see that the Toleration Act was " done comprehen-
sively and effectually."
He was equally zealous in his attendance on public
worship. When so infirm that he could hardly sit
through a service, he would not desist, and often after-
Avards had to lie down on a bed until recruited. He was
determined, if possible, to die in harness, and God gave
him his heart's desire.
He was esj)ecially anxious lest spiritual religion
The First of iJte Quakers. 83
should decline, now that persecution had ceased, and
Friends began to prosper in business. He wrote them
an epistle of loving, but earnest expostulation, warning
the young against the fashions of the world, and the old
against the deceitfuhiess of* riches. To the latter lie
])ointedly says, **Take heed that you are not maJcing
your graves VsAiWe J o\x are alive outwardly." To sonic;
ministers who had gone to America he writes simihir
stirring words of counsel : — "And all grow in the faith
and grace of Christ, that ye may not he like divarfs ; for
a dwarf shall not come near to oifer upon God's altar,
though he may eat of God's bread that he may grow
by it."
On the Sunday preceding his death, he preached
with great power at the meeting in Gracechurch Street,
but soon afterwards had to take to bed, complaining of
cold and weakness. His wife had been to see him some
little time before, and finding him enjoying better
health than usual, was unprepared for his death, so that
no near relative seems to have been with him at the
time of his decease. It was indeed a consecrated cham-
ber. Those who stood round him were struck with the
triumph of faith over bodily Aveakness. He exulted in
the power of Christ. "All is well — the Seed of God
reigns over all, and over death itself." His thoughts
were calmly fixed on the arrangement of Society afiairs;
his mind was clear, his habitual disregard of his bodily
sufferings still marked him. Towards the last all pain
left him. Feelins; death comino;, he closed his own eves
and extended his limbs ; and in sweet composure, rest-
ing on Christ his Saviour, his spirit entered into rest on
Tuesday, 13th December, 1690 (o.s.)
Three days after, some 2000 persons (one witness says
4000) gatliered to lay him in his grave. For two hours
they w^orshipped in that same meeting-house in Grace-
church Street, in which he had preached only on the
previous sabbath. William Penn, George Whitehead,
34 George Fox,
Stephen Crisp, and other leaders amongst them, thanked
God for the gifts and services of their departed leader,
and exhorted and encouraged each other to faith in that
Lord, who raised him up and sustained him in his work.
Then the body was conveyed to Bunhill-fields, and in-
terred in the Friends' Burial Ground there.
On the day of his death, William Penn wrote to
Swarthmoor to tell the news of his decease. His letter
reminds us of the inscription of the Carthaginians on
the tomb of Hannibal. " We vehemently desired him
in the day of battle." He sadly says to Mrs. Fox, *' I
am to be the teller to thee of sorrowful tidings, which
are these : — that thy dear husband and my beloved
friend, George Fox, finished his glorious testimony this
night about half-an-hour after 9 o'clock, being sensible
to the last breath. Oh ! he is gone, and has left us with
a storm over our heads. Surely in mercy to Him, but
an evidence to us of sorrows coming. . . . My soul
is deeply affected with this sudden great loss. Surely
it portends to us evils to come. A prince indeed is
fallen in Israel to-day !" and in a postscript he adds,
" He died as he lived, minding the things of God and
His church to the last, in a universal spirit."
Fox's Journal was published soon after his death,
with a lengthy preface by his friend William Penn,
containing a warm tribute to his personal worth and
christian labors. The Journal gives us a better and
more vivid idea of the man than any biography that has
been written. An intelligent and liberal-minded Baptist
minister thus describes the impressions it left on his
mind : —
Eev. Wm. Rhodes to his wife :
" ' My dear heart in the truth and the life which are
immortal and change not ; '
'' So George Fox usually addressed his wife. I have
finished his life of 650 folio pages since you have been
gone. It afforded me much amusement, but its chief
The First of the Quakers, 35
impression is that of the highest veneration and delight,
for so holy and noble a servant of Christ. I have
hitherto regarded Penn as the most beautiful character
which that sect has produced, and perhaps it is the most
beautiful, because his mind was more polished and
cultivated than that of his friend ; but Fox's character
is by far the most venerable and magnificent. He
reminds me of the inspired Tishbite in his stern majesty
and fidelity, but he seems to have surpassed him in all
the patient, gentle, compassionate, suffering, laborious
virtues. If inspiration has been granted since the
apostles departed from the world, I think he possessed it.
I have read few things more truly sublime than some
of his letters to Charles II." — ilemoir of W. Rhodes,
Jackson and Walford, p. 179.
Ellwood, the friend of Milton, has left us a glowing
testimony to the value of George Fox's Life and Work.
But the eulogies of William Penn and Thomas Ellwood
are not portraits. One of the best estimates of his
character ever given to the world is that by J. C.
Colquhoun in " Short Studies of some Notable Lives."
In it he says (p. 88-90) :—
"The truth is that Fox's character had, like that of
many others, two sides ; and the contrast between these
is so great that one can hardly believe them to belong
to the same man. On the one side we have strange
thoughts and words, fanciful imaginations, the illusions
of an unlettered mind. But such things are not un-
usual. Dr. Johnson believed in second sight, in dreams
and ghosts ; and his case presents to us the credulity of
a child, with the intellect of a giant.
"But if we turn to the other side of Fox's character,
we find this man of fancies and visions confronted with
controversialists, Jesuits, and lawyers, puzzling them
with his subtlety, and with his logic beating down their
fence. Now in a court of justice he confronts the judge,
defies the bar, picks flaws in the indictment, quotes
36 George Fox,
against tliem adverse statutes, and wrings from baffled
judges a reluctant acquittal. Then he is in the Pro-
tector's court, to Tueet a man hard to dupe. There he
plants himself, his hat on his head, at Oliver's dressing
table, engages him in long discourse, sets before him his
duty, presses on him the policy of toleration, till the
iron-hearted soldier, first surprised, then attentive, at
length interested, extends his hand to the Quaker, bids
him repeat the visit, and tells him if they could meet
oftener they would be firmer friends.
" No less remarkable are his courag-e and skill. As
storms thicken, he is always in the front of the battle ;
wherever the strife is vehement there he is ; now in
Lancashire, now in Leicester, in Westmoreland or Corn-
wall; meeting magistrates and judges, braving them at
Q.uarter Sessions, vanquishing officers, governors of
castles, and judges. Then he sits down calmly to
organise, with a forecast equal to that of Wesley, the
scheme of Quaker polity which has lasted to our times.
And if we smile at the oddity of his language, at the
curious missives which he hurls at mayors and magis-
trates, jailors and judges, we find at times a caustic style
worthy of Hudibras or Cobbett, in which he lashes the
frippery of the court, or meets the casuistry of the
Jesuits or Ultra-Calvinists ; and as we dwell on those
words of wisdom in which he tells us of his faith, and
cheers the heart of Cromwell's daughter, we 23erceive
that he is no common man, but one who, with strange
training and singular notions, rose by the strength of
genius and piety to a wide command over men.''
But though honoured by the Society which he founded,
Fox has not received his due from the religious world
in general, nor from the friends of civil and religious
liberty. It is significant that whilst his friend, William
Penn, has found at least three respectable biographers
outside his own sect. Fox has found but one ; and whilst
Penn has been defended again and again from Macaulay's
The First of the Quakers. 37
charges, the only defence of George Fox against his
groundless sneers that is well-known, is from tlie vigorous
pen of Mr. J. S. Kowntree. Fox has received scant
justice from all but " Friends ; " tJieir loyalty, as we
have seen, has been beautiful, unfaltering and enthusi-
astic. Most writers seem to have been too much afraid
of his peculiar views, and repelled by his uncouth style,
to be just to his large heart and mind, and to his won-
derful services as an evangelist. The man who advocated
general education, who was anxious that Philadelphia
should have a botanical garden, wdio battled for perfect
religious liberty, who pleaded for the rights of the negro
and for the reform of prison discipline, who organised
the polity of Quakerism, and associated philanthropy
inseparably with its system, was a remarkable man, far
in advance of his age, and worthy of more regard from
the country that has been so greatly blessed by his*
labours.
Lord Macaulay has thought fit to speak of George
Fox as not mad enough for Bedlam, but too mad for
liberty, as "not morally or intellectually superior to
Ludovic Muggleton or Joanna Southcote,'' he has termed
his journal " absurd " and his letters " crazy." Un-
fortunately, Hep worth Dixon, wdiilst correcting Macau-
lay's gross misrepresentations of Penn, has confirmed
those concerning Fox. He speaks of his spiritual
struggles with a sneer, credits him with "imperious
instincts," and is evidently ashamed that Penn was in
any way allied with him. It will, therefore, be simple
justice to Fox, to ask the reader who may be prejudiced
against him, by the vigorous epithets and dashing-
portraiture of the historian, to set against his caricature
some opinions of men less biassed, and well worthy of
confidence. Let him remember that if Macaulay speaks
with unmeasured contempt, Kingsley, Carlyle, and a
host of others speak of Fox with respect.
And first, as to his Journal, listen to the words of
38 Oeorge Fox^
Coleridge and Sir James Mackintosh. Coleridge in liis
Biographia Liieraria observes : — ^' There exist folios on
the human understanding and the nature of man which
would have a far juster claim to the high rank and
celebrity if in the whole huge volume there could be
found as much fuhiess of heart and intellect as bursts
forth in many a simple page of George Fox."
Sir James Mackintosh describes his " absurd " book
as "one of the most extraordinary and instructive
narratives in the world, which no reader of competent
judgment can peruse without revering the virtue of the
writer, pardoning his self-delusion, and ceasing to smile
at his peculiarities." — MisceWs Works, vol. II. p. 182.
Is not the testimony of these witnesses preferable to
the manifest prejudice of Macaulay ?
Now as to George Fox's powers of mind and high
moral character, place against Macaulay's sarcasm the
good opinion of other competent judges. We will not
quote the elaborate eulogy of Ellwood, the friend of
Milton ; of William Penn's warm tribute we will only
quote the saying that he had never seen him " out of his
place, or not a match for every service or occasion." But
these w^ere personal friends. Let us hear others.
Marsden in his ^' Later Puritans," speaks of his " joene-
trating intellect." The accomplished Alfred Vaughan
speaks thus of Fox, in what Charles Kingsley calls his
" fair and liberal chapters on Fox and the early Quakers,"
in his " Hours with the Mystics : " —
*^ Oppression and imprisonment awakened the benev-
olent, never the malevolent impulses of his nature, —
only adding fervour to his plea for the captive and the
oppressed. His tender conscience could know no fellow-
ship with the pleasures of the world ; his tender heart
could know no weariness in seeking to make less its sum
of suffering. He is a Cato Howard. ... In the
prison experiences of George Fox are to be found the
germs of that modern philanthropy in which his fol-
The First of the Quakers. 39
lowers have distinguished themselves so nobly. In
Derby gaol he is " exceedingly exercised" about the
proceedings of the judges and magistrates, concerning
their putting men to death for cattle, money, and small
matters, — and is moved to write to them, showing the
sin of such severity, and, moreover, what a hurtful
thing it was that prisoners should lie so long in gaol ;
how that they learned badness one of another in talk-
ing of their bad deeds; and therefore speedy justice
should be done. . . . As to doctrine again, consider
how much religious extravagance was then afloat, and
let us set it down to the credit of Fox that his mystical
excesses were no greater."
The historian Bancroft says : — " His fame increased ;
crowds gathered like flocks of pigeons to hear him.
His frame in prayer is described as the most awful, liv-
ing, and reverent ever felt or seen ; and his vigorous
understanding, soon disciplined by clear convictions to
natural dialectics, made him powerful in the public dis-
cussions to which he defied the world. . . . The
mind of George Fox had the highest systematic saga-
city."— Bancroft'' s History of the U. S., Vol. II. pp. 508-9.
But finally let us appeal to the high authority of Car-
lyle, who estimated truly the spirit and aim of Fox's
life. There was much in common between them in their
sturdy love of truth and reality, leading to a hearty ha-
tred of empty forms and mere conventionalities. Both
had a striking directness of thought and purpose, going
right to the heart of things ; an intense earnestness that
did not stop nicely to weigh words, but hit hard at all
unris-liteousness. There was in both a strons; sense of
personal responsibility that made them indifferent what
others might think or do. Carlyle gives us in '' Sartor
Besartus" (Popular edition, pp. 144, 5) a striking eulo-
gium on George Fox, from which we will select the fol-
lowing characteristic passage : — " PerhaiDS the most re-
markable incident in modern history is not the diet of
40 George Fox,
Worms, still less the Battle of Austerlitz, Waterloo,
Peterloo, or any other battle ; but an incident passed
carelessly over by most historians, and treated with some
degree of ridicule by others ; namely, George Fox mak-
ing to himself a suit of leather. This man, the first of
tlie Quakers, and by trade a shoemaker, was one of those
to whom, under ruder or j)urer form, the divine idea of
the universe is pleased to manifest itself; and across all
the hulls of ignorance and earthly degradation, shine
through in unspeakable awfulness, unspeakable beauty
on their souls; who therefore are rightly accounted
prophets, God-possessed, or even Gods, as in some peri-
ods it has chanced."
The length of these quotations needs some apology;
but the influence of the vigor and cleverness of Ma-
caulay's caricature needs to be counteracted ; and the
confidence with which he pronounces judgment will
doubtless lead many unwary readers to accept his opin-
ion. It should at least be known that men equally able,
and more competent to estimate a nature like Fox's,
have admired his character and valued his work. But
after all the best testimony to his worth is contained in
the devoted life which we have been endeavouring to
sketch.
WILLIAM PENK
THE
FOUNDER OF PENNSYLVANIA.
41
PEE FACE.
The story of William Penn has been told so often and
BO well that it is impossible to introduce novelty into it
without introducing falsehood. This Macaulay found out
to his cost, his representations doing more to expose his
liability to prejudice than to damage the stable reputation
of Penn. 'No wonder such a beautiful and eventful life
has attracted many biographers. If Clark son did not
possess all the information that is now in existence, he is
accurate and sympathetic. Hcpworth Dixon is brilliant
but not always accurate, and he fails altogether in the
religious portion of his story from utter want of sympathy
and insight. In Dr. Stoughton both these qualities are
joined to that broad acquaintance with the religious his-
tory of the age which is so essential to the just portraiture
of such a man. He has added to the biography many
interesting details. Dixon complained that the memoirs
of Quakers are transcendental and lacking in human
interest. No book can deserve the censure less than Dr.
Stoughton's life of Penn.
42
■\7ILLIAM PENN",
THE
FOTJIS^DER OF PE^^XSYLYANIA.
WILLIAM PENN was born in London, in 1644.
His flither was the famous but time-serving
admiral Sir William Penn ; his mother, Margaret Jasper,
the beautiful and intelligent daughter of a Eotterdani
merchant. His father's ambition was high. He had
gained wealth and the royal favour by his daring and
ability ; his son should work out a grand career, and
should be a peer, Viscount Weymouth. But man pro-
poses, God disposes. The stout Admiral lived to find
the strong, handsome, quick-witted child, on whom he
built so much, a very sword in his soul, the last stroke
that brought down his proud self-willed nature to the
very dust before God, and made him at last think seri-
ously of that religion which he had despised when in
health and gaiety.
The child of such hopes received a careful training.
First, he was sent to Chigwell School in Essex, which
was near the home of his childhood at Wanstead. After
that, he entered Christchurch College, Oxford, where he
met some of the friends of his after years, including
Kobert Spencer, afterwards Earl of Sunderland, and
John Locke. Already, signs of strong religious feeling
had manifested themselves in the boy. When a child
at Shangarry Castle, a Quaker preacher— Thomas Loe,
destined to play such a prominent part in his history
came to Cork. His father, little suspecting the results
that would follow, invited him to the Castle, and gath-
4-1
44 Willian Penn,
ered the neighbours to hear him. His preaching deeply
impressed the whole gathering; it made Sir William
weep freely, and left an impression on the mind of his
child-hearer which was never effaced. That impression
was deejDcned by a singular vision which he had at Chig-
well School. " Alone in his chamber, being then eleven
years old, he was suddenly surprised with an inward
comfort, and, as he thought, an external glory in the
room, which gave rise to religious emotions, during
which he had the strongest convictions of the being of
a God, and that the soul of man was capable of commu-
nication with Him. He believed also, that the seal of
Divinity had been placed upon him at this moment, or
that he had been awakened, or called upon to a holy
life." Again at Oxford, he was greatly influenced by
Dr. Owen, with whom Penh corresponded when he was
removed from his position as Dean, to make way for a
more pliable instrument of the schemes of the court.
Penn's attainments were already considerable for his
years, yet his College course was doomed to be a failure.
The most noteworthy occurrences in it were, his again
hearing the Quaker preacher, Thomas Loe, and his vig-
orous opposition to the Ritualistic innovations of the
Stuarts. The authorities insisted on the gown being
Avorn by all under-graduates. Penn and others, recog-
nising this as the thin end of the Popish wedge, not
only would not wear it themselves, but tore it from the
backs of those who did. This led to his expulsion for
rioting.'^ tlis father was most annoyed at the disgrace
attending the punishment, until he found that his son's
conduct resulted from settled convictions, already firmly
rooted. Then the Admiral at once understood the seri-
ous issues involved. He must vanquish these conscien-
tious scruples or his ambitious plans would be ruined.
* He tells us that his expulsion resulted from his writing a book,
which " the priests and masters did not like." Probably both reasons
were combined.
The Founder of Pennsylvania, 45
He never planned a sea-fight more carefully. In the
first moment of anger he had soundly whipped his son,
and turned him out of doors ; now he tried gentler and
more insinuating means. Like a true man of the world,
he had full confidence in the power of a gay life to cast
out such thoughts, and he sent his son to Paris. The
most interesting incident of the trip is his treatment of
a French gallant, who insisted on fighting him over
some supj)Osed insult. In vain did Penn politely explain
that no insult had been ofiEered. They must fight.
Penn not only excelled in athletics, but was a skillful
fencer. He soon disarmed the man, but mstead of then
punishing him for his quarrelsomeness, he only returned
him his sword with a polite bow\
Sir William Penn, delighted with what he heard of
the success of this expedient, determined that his son
should finish his education in France, after which he
destined him for the army. But in God's providence,
the chosen tutor, the learned divine Moses Amyrault, if
he did not deepen the gracious impressions already re-
ceived, grounded him thoroughly in theological studies,
which were very useful to him afterwards. Leaving him,
Penn travelled for some time, and returned home, says
Pepys, "a fine gentleman." He then studied law
awhile in Lincoln's Inn, and to good purpose, as we
shall see.
The great j)lague of 1665 drove him from London,
and probably revived his serious thoughts, which were
further strengthened by intercourse with serious people
and the reading of serious books. His father again re-
marked the dreaded relapse, and again tried what change
would do. This time he sent his son to Ireland, to the
sprightly court of the Lord Lieutenant, the Duke of
Ormond. Again, he reckoned without his host. There
were Quakers in Ireland, and the very plan to Avliich
the astute Admiral trusted to get his son out of danger,
led to his joining their Society. At first, indeed.
46 William Penn,
notliing seemed less likely than such a result. He was
beginning to despair of finding "the Primitive Spirit
and Church upon Earth," and was ready recklessly to
give himself up to the glory of the world. He was so
flattered by the cordial recognition of the spirit and the
success with which he assisted in quelling a petty insur-
rection, that he was inclined to fall in with his father's
plan, and adopt the j)rofession of arms. He even went
so far as to apply for a captaincy. But God had other
things in store for him. Happening to hear that
Thomas Loe, the Quaker by whom he had been so im-
pressed in Oxford, was visiting in Cork, he went to
hear him. His ministry is said to have been singularly
lively and convincing. The sermon was wonderfully
suited to Penn's case, and made him weep much. The
opening sentence cut him to the quick : " There is a faith
that overcomes the world, and there is a faith that is
overcome by the world." From that night he deter-
mined that, by God's grace, his faith should not be over-
come by the world. He began to attend Quaker
meetings regularly. At one of these, in November 1667,
a soldier came in, and made a great disturbance. Penn,
like Phineas in '' Uncle Tom's Cabin," not having yet
thoroughly subdued the old nature, took him by the
collar, and would have thrown him down stairs, had not
Friends interfered. The soldier went aivay, and gave
information to the authorities, who came and broke up
the meeting, haling several, including Penn, before the
magistrates.
His cavalier dress, so unlike that of his companions,''"
* He did not at once adopt the Quaker dress, and continued for
some time to wear a sword. Whefi this non-comphance witii Quaker
customs was reported to George Fox, it is said that he simply replied,
" let him wear it as long as he can." 1\^ mentioned years afterwards
how the peculiar garb was a stumbling-block to some, " It telleth
tales, it is blowing a trumpet and visibly crossing the world ; and this
the fear of man cannot abide" {Travels, p. 121). Probably this very
fact commended the peculiarity to his bold and decided spirit.
The Founder of Pennsylvania, 47
led the mayor, before ^vliom the party was taken, to
offer to release him upon bond for his good behaviour.
Penn denied his right to demand sucdi bond, and
challenged the legality of the arrest. When committed,
he appealed to his friend the Earl of Orrery, Lord
l^resident of Munster, by whom he was speedily set at
hbertv. But that p-entleman wrote the news to his
father, who at once summoned him home. He reasoned,
he stormed, then, proud and haughty as he was, he con-
descended to plead. Finally, finding his son still
unyielding, and hearing complaints of his preaching at
different meetings in town and country, he turned him
out of doors, telling him also that he should leave his
estates to those that pleased him better. He was then
twenty-three years of age.
Henceforth William Penn's time and strength were
given to Quakerism. There was neither hesitation nor
half-heartedness. The welfare, work, and sufferings of
Friends he made his own. He wrote and preached with
untiring energy, and suffered, counting it joy.
Though turned out of doors by his father, he was not
allowed to want. His mother privately supplied his
needs to the utmost of her ability, and what she could
not do was made up by several kind friends. The
situation was painful in the extreme; separated from
home and parents, his father grieved and mortified at
his conduct. He tells pathetically afterwards of "the
bitter mockings and scornings that fell upon me, the
displeasure of my parents, the invectiveness and cruelty
of the priests, the strangeness of all my companions,
what a sign and wonder they made of me." But his
conscience approved of the line he had adopted, and his
resolute nature was troubled by no waverings. He set
himself earnestly to do his duty. He united himself
closely to the Friends, and took up his pen on their
behalf. His first work was entitled *' Truth exalted."
" The Guide Mistaken," soon followed. It was a
48 William PenUy
reply to " A Guide to the true Religion/' in wliicli the
Quakers were treated with great severity.
Shortly afterwards he was drawn into a public dis-
cussion with the Rev. Thomas Vincent, a Presbyterian
minister in Spitalfields. Some of his congregation Lav-
ing become converts to Quakerism, Vincent said some
slanderous things about the Friends. So George White-
head and Wm. Penn waited upon him, and insisted
that as he had publicly misrepresented them, he was
bound in fairness to give tbem an opportunity publicly
to set themselves right. After some demur, Vincent
agreed to meet them in his own chapel on a certain day.
The discussion lasted until midnight, and turned prin-
cipally upon the question of the Trinity. Friends have
always asserted that the doctrine, as taught by the
orthodox, is an attempt to explain the inexplicable, and
goes beyond what is revealed in the Scriptures. This
contention in their early days cost them much reproach;
now the cliief renmant of it is the annoyance of having
their authors, especially Penn, quoted as believers in the
Unitarianism of to-day.
The debate was one-sided and bitter, and the Friends
only retired at last on condition of having another
opportunity to vindicate themselves. But as Vincent
plainly showed that he had no intention of redeeming
his promise, the only satisfaction left was the press. In
" The Sandy Foundation Shaken," Penn gave the pub-
lic his view of the matter. But he did not stop with
the doctrine of the Trinity, he went on to the Atone-
ment. He advanced such arguments against '' Imputed
Righteousness" as Barclay has elaborated in his Apol-
ogy. He also produced arguments against the method
in which in those days the necessity of a satisfaction to
the Divine justice was taught. His expressions unfor-
tunately resemble those of modern Unitarians, but his
position is vitally different. Penn believed the death
of Our Saviour on the cross a real Sacrifice, that "Jesus
The Founder of Pennsylvania, 49
Christ was our holy sacrifice, atonement and propitia-
tion, that he bore our iniquities,'' but that Christ is not
the cause but the effect of God's love. (See his " Prim-
itive Christianity revived.")
This book brought down on Penn the anger of Dr.
Sanderson, Bishop of London, and led to his being sent
to the Tower. But that only " added one more glorious
book to the literature of the Tower," " No Cross, No
Crown," of which Hepworth Dixon, more trustworthy
in literature than in religion, says, ''Had the style been
more condensed, it would have been well entitled to claim
a high place in literature." Whilst there he also replied
in a'^treatise entitled " Innocency with her open face,'^'^ to
many strictures on the " Sandy Foundation Shaken."
This imprisonment revealed in two ways the stuff of
which William Penn was made. First severity was
tried, and one day his servant brought him the report
that the bishop was determined he should recant or die
in prison. He only smiled and said, "They are mis-
taken in me; I value not their threats. I will weary
out their malice. Neither great nor good things were
ever attained without loss and hardship." Then they
sent Stillingfleet, the future bishop, to try his powers
of persuasion, but they, too, utterly foiled. '' Tell my
father, who I know will ask thee, that my prison shall
be my grave before I will budge a jot, for I owe my
conscience to no mortal man." Such spirit, combined
with the ability his books were revealing, revived the
admiral's pride in his son. The court, too, began to
take interest in him, and shortly after Stillingfleet's
visit he was released, having been in the Tower more
than eight months.
He at once resumed his preaching, and having been
partially reconciled to his father, was employed by him
to attend to his Irish estates. On his return home, his
father received him fully into his favour, to the great
deliirht of his mother's heart.
50 William Penn,
But soon trouble again overtook him, though only
again to place him on a pedestal where his virtues and
power would be more manifest, and where his voice
would reach a larger audience. Going to the meeting-
house in Gracechurch Street, London, he found it closed
and guarded by soldiers. However the Friends held
their service in the street, and for this W. Penn and W.
Meade were indicted under the Conventicle Act. Hep-
worth Dixon regards this as " perhaps the most import-
ant trial that ever took place in England," and speaks
of Penn as the great vindicator of the old charters and
of trial by jury. He met the browbeating of the city
magistrates with spirit and dignity, and encouraged the
jury to do the right manfully. After twice returning
an evasive verdict, and being locked up for forty-eight
hours, the jury finally acquitted the prisoners. The
court was greatly annoyed, and vindictively fined the jury
for contempt. They refused to pay the fine and were
sent to prison. Penn encouraged them to test the legal-
ity of this imprisonment, and the highest legal author-
ity in the land decided against it and released the
gallant jury. "^ A full account of the whole proceedings
was published, and helped materially to encourage re-
sistance to illegal interference with liberty.
But important as this trial undoubtedly was, the full
benefit of it was only secured by long years of bitter
sufferings endured by tlie whole Quaker community.
(See sketch of Fox.) Let us who enjoy the spoils re-
member gratefully those who fought the battle.
We have spoken of the marked individuality in
William Penn's character which led him to continue to
wear the court costume after he became a Friend, until
his own conscience demanded that he should adopt the
* In his second trial "Lord Chief Justice Vaughan pronounced his
noble vindication of the right of jurors to delivera free verdict, which
by giving independence to juries, made the institution so effectual a
protection to the liberty of the subject." — W. E. Forster.
The Founder of Pennsylvania, 51
Quaker garb. The same individuality led him to di-
verge from the ordinary type of Friend in another and
more important matter. They were bent on fighting
out the battle of religious liberty by religious, rather
than by political weapons. They might, when on trial,
quote a statute or plead a precedent as a sort of argu-
mentum ad hominem, but in political and constitutional
afiairs, as such, they as a class took no delight. Penn
was an exception. He felt a keen interest in tlie polit-
ical affairs of his country. He saw that it was a
mistake to lose the benefit of the old charters and statutes
which secured the liberty of the subject, and he appealed
to them on all occasions. This appeal served two
purposes. It acknowledged the civil duties of Chris-
tians, which some Christians are slow to recognise. It
also secured the sympathies of many in their struggles
to whom the religious aim was incomprehensible. Both
these objects seemed to Penn of the highest importance ;
they influenced his whole career. In the words of W. E.
Forster, "the form of his religion, his feelings as a
Quaker, did not seem to him to interfere with the ful-
filment of his duties as a citizen. Had it done so, that
form would have been changed rather than the work left
undone, for he was not a man to make one duty an
excuse for shirking another ; within his conscience there
was no conflict between religion and patriotism ; he did
not fly from the world, but faced it with true words and
true deeds."
Admiral Penn was lying on his death-bed whilst this
trial was in progress, and it added greatly to the sufier-
ings of his son, that he could not be with his father at
such a time. But on his release he hastened home, and
very touching was the final converse between fiither and
son. The high spirit was humbled; the worldly heart
had learnt the emptiness of earthly honours. *^Son
William, " he said only a day or two before his death,
" I am weary of the world. I would not live my days
52 William Penn,
over again if I could command them with a wish, for
the snares of life are more than the fears of death.
This troubles me that I have offended a gracious God.
The thought of this has followed me to this day. Oh,
have a care of sin ! It is that which is the sting both of
life and death." We can imagine with what feelings
the Christian son would hear this tardy confession, and
would endeavour to point such a father to the source of
his own hopes and consolation. The old sailor was
buried with due honours in the fine old church of St.
Mary's, Red cliff, Bristol. He left the bulk of his
property, some £1500 a year — a great sum in those days
— to his eldest son, who thus found himself ^in spite of
the risks he had run for conscience sake, a wealthy man,
able to devote money as well as time and strength to the
cause of his adoption. The king and his brother, the
Duke of York, afterwards James II., had promised the
dying man to be guardians to his son — a promise sought
by him because he foresaw the many troubles into which
that son's conscientious scruples would lead him in such
an age. This fact is the key to the relations in which
William Penn and the royal brothers often stood to each
other — relations otherwise puzzling, but creditable to
both sides when thus explained. The Stuarts were
faithful to this j^romise when interest pointed another
way. Penn was true to James especially, in spite of
faults which greatly tried him ; true, even when his
throne tottered, and finally fell.
The Penns had an ancient family seat in Bucking-
hamshire. Not far away at Chalfont lived William
Penn's friend, Isaac Pennington, and his wife, and his
step-daughter, Gulielma Maria Springett. There also
lived Thomas Ellwood, quaintest of Quaker rhymesters,
and his great master, Milton. No wonder Penn found
the place attractive. But the great attraction soon came
to be Guli Springett, beautiful and spirited and accom-
plished, and yet a true Quakeress. He had met her
The Founder of Pennsylvania, 53
first at a friend's house where he called when returning
to his father's house, to the interview which ended in
his expulsion from home. Her father was Sir AVilliam
Springett, who was killed at the early age of twenty-
three, after a chivalrous defence of Arundel Castle for
the Parliament. Guli was born a few weeks after his
death. After losing her husband, wdio like most of the
best officers of the Parliament was a staunch Puritan as
well as a good soldier, Lady Springett passed through a
time of great spiritual unrest. At last she found a
home amongst the Friends. She afterwards married
Isaac Pennington, attracted to him by the spiritual ties
of a similar religious experience. They were both ex-
amples of the numerous class of those who were almost
Quakers before they were aware that such a Society
existed. In 1672, William Penn made Guli Springett
his wife. The interval after his flither's death had been
filled up by writing several books, preaching, holding a
public discussion with one Jeremy Ives on the univer-
sality of the Divine Light, a short visit to Holland, and
of course the inevitable imprisonment, six months in
Newgate for attending Wheeler Street Meeting.^
In his wife he found a true help-meet, both in piety,
zeal for Quakerism, and large-minded sympathy with
all Christian and patriotic causes. He loved her deeply
and tenderly, and found in her love the brightest feature
of his chequered life. After his marriage he had a long,
sweet rest, and then plunged deep into work again.
He visited the Court, for the first time since his
father's death, to plead for George Fox's liberty. It
was an errand on which for the next fifteen years he
was often to go. He seems to have had a wonderful
power of drawing out the best side of the royal brothers ;
and no nobler sight can be pictured than the courtly
Friend, hating the court for its worldliness and sin, but
frequenting it to speak bold words of truth or gentle
pleas for mercy ; feeling that his influence there was a
54 William Penn,
trust not to be neglected, but wielding it with constant
watchfulness and wonderful self-control. Meanwhile,
writing and preaching were not forgotten. Amongst
other engagements, he had, in 1675, a public discussion
with good Hobert Baxter, of which, unfortunately, very
few details are preserved. Perhaps, the most competent
and charitable opponent of Friends at this time was Dr.
Henry More. The combined wit and seriousness of
Penn's pamphlets overcame his dislike to controversy,
and led him to go carefully through the discussion
which he had had with John Faldo. He was also at
this time in communication with George Keith, then,
perhaps, the most learned defender of tlie doctrine of
Immediate Revelation. The intercourse led to mutual
regard and respect. *^If thou happen to see Henry
More," writes George Keith to Robert Barclay, when
the latter was in London, *^ remember my dear love to
him. Notwithstanding of his mistakes, I would have
Friends be very loving and tender to him, as indeed I
find a great love to him in my heart. But as for his
paper I see no difiiculties in it at all to weaken in me
anything I have written to him."
Before proceeding to speak of the great work of
Penn's life, the founding of Pennsylvania, we must
anticipate a little to refer to his manifold labours for
his own religious Society. His well-balanced nature
found no difficulty in rightly blending the sacred and
the secular. Whilst electioneering for Sidney, whilst
gathering facts and making business arrangements for
New Jersey, or taking interest in the Royal Society,
his religious life was still full and fervent. At the time
that he was living at Worminghurst, almost over-
whelmed with business, we are told that his spirit was so
warm and eager, that when the Friends assembled for
worship, he could hardly wait to reach his seat before
beginning to pour forth the fulness of his soul.
He watched with lively interest the work of organi-
The Founder of Pennsylvania. 55
sation which Fox was carrying on in so masterly a
fashion. When John ]^errott caused a disturbance, by
refusing to remove his hat whilst praying in public, or
William Eodgers obstructed Fox's path, mistaking
discipline for tyranny, none were more ready than he
to rally round the trusted leader. In 1677, he joined
Fox, Barclay, and others, in a visit to Holland, to
organise and consolidate the Society there, and to visit
such promising enquirers as the Princess Elizabeth, the
Countess de Homes, and the courtly Van Helmont.
He ])ublished a full and glowing account of the religious
services in which they were engaged, wdiich gives us a
vivid picture of the " times of refreshing '' which the
brotherhood enjoyed in its early days.
The next year, 1678, when reports of Popish plots
kept the nation in a constant alarm, he was twice heard
before a committee of the House of Commons, in
support of a petition which he presented on behalf of
the Society of Friends. Their inability to take an oath,
led to their being caught in the meshes of an Act
intended for Catholics. William Penn explained their
position with dignity and great candour. With charac-
teristic boldness, though asking for a favour, he did not
flinch from pleading for full liberty of conscience even
for the hated Papists. The committee listened respect-
fully, and adopted his suggestions for the relief of
Friends ; but the sudden prorogation of Parliament
prevented the bill from being carried.
It shows the perfect independence of Penn's mind
that though he was on good terms with the King, he
risked giving offence by his open and hearty sympathy
with Algernon Sidney. That patriot, after long years
of banishment was allowed to return home in 1677.
Soon after, he yielded to the representations of his
republican friends, and sought a seat in Parliament.
First he tried Guildford, and then Bramber; but was
not only hotly 02)posed by the court, but dishonourably
66 William Penn,
and illegally tricked out of the seat. All through the
struggle he had the enthusiastic and vigorous support
of Penn, although at the time the affairs of Penn-
sylvania were far from settled, and he had so much
reason to wish to keep the royal favour. Usually Penn
kept clear of party politics, but on this occasion he can-
vassed and spoke for his friend with great zeal; so that
the French Ambassador speaks of him and Sidney as
the two trusted leaders of the republican party. But
though Penn's action proves that he did not share the
scruples of most of his brethren against participating in
political affairs, yet it was probably the man and his
principles that won his confidence, rather than the party
with which he acted. Probably, Penn would have en-
dorsed the early opinion of his father-in-law, Isaac
Pennington, who wrote, (1651) "Whoever they are,
whom I saw fitted for it (Government) and called to it,
they should have my vote on their behalf." In the
midst of politics and schemes of emigration, the stream
of his polemical works still continued to flow, and every
year saw one or more pamphlets from his pen.
Turning to his private life, in 1680, he lost his be-
loved father-in-law, Isaac Pennington. Though gifted
with a refined mind and a loving heart, he had a nature
far less robust and vigorous than his son-in-law, who
shortly after his death edited his collected works. But
a heavier blow followed. In 1682, Lady Penn died,
and her death seems to have made him seriously ill for
some time. She had clung to him when his adoption
of Quakerism turned his father against him, and she
took care of him when he was turned out of doors. She
never accepted Quakerism, yet probably her gentle and
loving nature had an influence with her son that the
stern father never had.
Now begins the story of Pennsylvania. As boy and
youth it had been his favourite dream that in America
might be planted a new England, without the faults of
TJie Founder of Pennsylvania. 57
the old — a liome of civil and religious freedom. Events
now ripened the scheme. On the one hand, fierce per-
secution urged him on ; England and Germany seemed
to be bent on driving out their most energetic and
high-souled children. On the other, the way opened
gradually and safely. In 1G75, he was induced to
become a manager of West New Jersey. After five
years experience he bought East New Jersey in 1681,
and in the same year the King granted him, by charter,
the fine tract adjoining, now Called Pennsylvania. This
was in lieu of £16,000 due to his father for pay, and for
money advanced in desperate times to strengthen the
navy. We are told that the Admiral obtained the
promise of this tract, having heard from a relative
glowing accounts of its richness. From the first, the
"holy ex2)eriment," as Penn called it, was popular.
Algernon Sidney, with whom he kept up constant cor-
respondence, and whom he loved as a brother, helped
him to sketch a constitution for it. The Quakers, who
had long been discussing (especially since George Fox's
visit to America in 1672) some scheme of colonisation,
were ready to supply emigrants of the right class in
large numbers. He had but to publish a sketch of the
intended constitution, and a statement of the resources
and attractions of the colony, and the response was
immediate.
The constitution which he gave to Pennsylvania, and
which he spent many of the best years of his life in
reducing to practice, has been universally admired.
Hep worth Dixon has sought for the genius of it in the
experiences of ancient Greece, and in the dreams of More
and Sir Philip Sidney. Penn was, indeed, acquainted
with these, but his inspiration was found in the instincts
and aims of Quakerism. Plato and Sir Thomas More,
and even Algernon Sidney, had less to do with his
constitution than had George Fox. He found in the
Society to which he belonged a body combining a rare
58 William Penn,
amount of freedom with admirable organisation — a
Society with abundant elasticity yet with excellent disci-
pline and cohesion. Quakerism not only acknowledges
that methods and governments exist for the sake of
men, it believes that manhood, especially sanctified
manhood, is the great security of liberty and justice.
Its aim is to give scope to the individual to live out the
dictates of his own conscience, and to contribute his
utmost share to the general well-being. We are greatly
mistaken if this was not also the aim of Penil in the
constitution which he gave Pennsylvania.*
Unfortunately for the perfect realisation of his hopes,
such a scheme, like Quakerism, needs grand men to
work it. The maxims of Heaven cannot be worked out
by the instincts of earth. Had the other Friends in
Pennsylvania shared his spirit of lofty self-sacrifice, the
story of this State might have been more noble and
stimulating even than it is. But from the first, Quakers
shrank from the turmoil and cares of ofiicial life. But
this shrinking only makes more striking the unconquer-
able spirit that animated Penn. He could suffer and
be strong. He could " scorn delights and live laborious
days." To the end, he retained the reins of Pennsyl-
* " In the constitution of the colony he was assisted by Algernon
Sidney, and at Worminghurst and Penshurst the two friends drew up
its several articles. That it established perfect freedom of conscience,
it is needless to remark. It established also a no less absolute freedom
of trade; Penn sacrificing to this desire the sums which he might
have received from the sale of monopolies. The constitution was
democratic; a council of seventy-two, elected for three years, formed
the Senate, which Penn intended to be the deliberative body; an
assembly, elected by ballot and universal suffrage, and paid [they
received threepence per mile for travelling expenses, six shillings a
day while in the assembly, and the Speaker ten shillings a day] con-
firmed or rejected the Acts of the Council. Trial by jury gave
scope to public opinion, but the provision that the judges were chosen
only for two years, and could then be removed by the Assembly,
impaired the administration of justice. Religion was left to voluntary
eftbrts. [State] education was carefully provided for. The Indians
were treated on principles of such manifest justice, that they became
the friends of the new Colony, and no Quaker blood was shed by
them." Short Sketches, pp. 151-2.
The Founder of Pennsylvania. 59
vania affairs in his own hands as proprietor, though he
might have got rid at once of his burden of growing
debt and of the corroding care, by selling out. But
one thing restrained him ; says his noble wife, " My
husband might have finished it [the deed of surrender]
long since had he not insisted so much on gaining privi-
leges for the peopled (Logan's Life, p. b^). And so
even when the load was crushing him he continued to
bear it ratlier than mar the *^ holy experiment," the
great ambition of his life. This power of resolute and
skilful persistence until his ends were gained, had won
for his father wealth and honours. He, recognising it
as his noblest gift, chose it as the fittest offering which
he could place on God's altar. His life thus stands as
a rare instance of thankless toil for the honour of God
and the welfare of man, persisted in through weariness,
suffering, and loss, and resulting in unsurpassed useful-
ness. X
' The first band of emigrants left England in 1682, \
under the charge of Penn's cousin, Colonel Markham, V^
who was appointed Deputy-Governor. Penn himself
follow^ed on the 1st of September, landing at New^castle,
on the 27th of October. He left behind him a farewell
letter to his wife, full of tender assurances of love, and
of wise and highly characteristic advice as to the train-
ing of their children. He at once summoned the Gen-
eral Assembly to adopt the constitution he had pre-
j pared. " There w^as little talk and much work in the
viirst Pennsylvanian Parliament. On the third day their
session was completed, and Penn prorogued them in
person. They had left their ploughs for half-a-w^eek,
and had met together and founded a State."
Penn soon w^on the hearts of the Ped Indians. " A
lady wdio lived to be a hundred, used to speak of the
Governor as being rather of a short stature, but the
handsomest, best looking, lively gentleman she had ever
seen." " He endeared himself to the Indian by his
60 William Penny
!
marked condescension and acquiescence in their wishes.
He walked with them, sat with tliem on the ground,
and ate with them of their roasted acorns and hominy.
At this they expressed their great delight, and soon be-
gan to show how they could hop and jump ; at which
exhibition, William Penn, to cap the climax, sprang up
and beat them all.'' No wonder that some of the very
staid Quakers thought him '' too prone to cheerfulness
for a grave * public Friend,' " that is, a minister of the
Gospel. But without that elasticity that led to the ready
jest and the hearty enjoyment of simple pleasures, the
burdened brain must have collapsed before it did. His
was an intense nature, keen both in suffering and in
enjoyment, doing with its might whatsoever it found
to do.
Shortly after this he concluded his memorable treaty
with the Indians — " the only treaty," says Voltaire, ^'be-
\ tween those people and the Christians that was not rati-
j fied by an oath, and that was never broken." " The
■ treaty," says Dr. Stoughton, "was probably made with
the Delaware tribes as *a treaty of amity and friend-
ship,' and not for the purchase of territory." But the
details of the story seem wrapped in impenetrable mys-
tery. " The speeches made, the dresses worn, and the
surrounding scene, appear now to be altogether fic-
titious."
A society had been formed in Bristol, called the
"Free Society of Traders of Pennsylvania." To them
William Penn wrote an account of his province that is
now full of interest. Says Dr. Stoughton, "It indicates
great power of observation, a wide range of knowledge,
much skill in grouping facts, and an unaffected yet vig-
orous style of description on the part of its author."
Besides facts about the natives of the country, he specu-
lates about their origin, and thinks they may be the
descendants of the lost ten tribes.
After spending some two years in Pennsylvania and
The Founder of Pennsylvania, 61
seeing rhiladelphia grow until it l^^;;,2f 00 \nbal.ltan^^^^
William Penu returned home ui lb84 He had two
special reasons for doing so. He had had many dis-
putes with Lord Baltimore, the Roman Catholic propri-
et(3r of Maryland, respecting boundaries, and liaving
failed to come to terms, he was applying to the Lords
of Plantations to decide the case. Then again the per-
secution of the Quakers was very bitter and he lioped
he might be able by means of the royal/ayour to check
its severity. He reached liome early in October. As
to the persecution nothing was done to purpose until
James IL ascended the throne, when 1200 Quakers were
liberated from prison. But the credit of inclining the
roval mind to clemency must not be given to Penn alone
Barclay and George Whitehead had much to do with it
(see sketch of Barclay). , ,, r rxS
James at once showed Penn marked favour. _ He
would converse with him whilst peers were kept waiting.
He told him frankly "he would deal openly with his
subiects He liimself was a Catholic, and he desired no -.
peaceable person to be disturbed on account of his opin- /
ions- but . . with the new parliament would rest
the power legally to establish liberty of conscience." No
way of gaining the king's ear would compare with secur-
ing the Friend as advocate. So greatly was he sought
that we are told by Gerard Crrese (certainly not a very
trustworthy authority) that two hundred applicants
• sometimes thronged his house at once to secure Ins inte-
rest We must remember however that Barclay s influ-
ence was almost as great. The king was bent on securing
the good will of the Quaker leaders. They alone amongst
Protestants demanded religious liberty for Catholics;
they alone showed them charity. Besides, to shew kind-
ness to the Quakers gave a colour to the king s profession
that he was for general toleration, not merely tor favour
■ to the Catholics. Whilst James IL was king there-
fore Penn exerted great influence at court. Kiglitly or
62 William Penn,
wrongly he believed that James and some of his friends,
notably the duke of Buckingham, were disposed to
labour heartily for liberty of conscience. His friend
Barclay had the same confidence as regards the king.
It is easy for us to be wise after tlie event, and to believe
that in all this James was scheming for Catholic ascen-
dancy ; but that must not prevent our giving Penn
credit for good faith. Penn used his utmost influence
to strengthen this disposition. In 1686, when on a
"religious visit" to Holland, he undertook a commission
from the king to the Prince of Orange to induce him to
favour a general toleration of religious opinions in Eng-
land, and the removal of all tests. This commission
brought him into collision with Burnett, who was at the
same court pleading for toleration but for retaining tests.
Their intercourse left such a bitterness in the mind of
Burnett that he can never mention Penn but with acri-
mony.
For this attendance at court he had to pay the penalty
of being suspected a Papist. At his very first public
discussion with Vincent, the nickname Jesuit had been
given him and had stuck to him ever after. The Quakers
were many of them branded with the same opprobrious
name. In the case of Barclay, there w^as his early
training and boyish conversion to Romanism, and the
fiict that many of his family were Catholics, to give
plausibility to the charge. As to the body at large, "it
was believed that the doctrine of the inner light was
taught by Jesuit, and that a Franciscan friar had said no
churches came so near his own as the Quakers."* The
Friends could not accept the ordinary teaching of the
* Penn himself writes "There is a people called 'the silent* or
'people of rest' in Italy, at Naples and at Rome itself, that come near
Friends; an inward people from all ceremonies and self-worship, [he
means worship unprompted and unaided by the Holy Spirit,] seekers,
the Pope and two cardinals favour them. A poor Spanish Friar, called
Molino, is the first of them. A thousand in Naples it is thought." —
Dr. Stoughton's Life, p. 228.
The Founder of Pennsylvania, 63
supremacy of the Bible as a rule of faith, and sometimes
on this point their destructive criticism was welcome to
Catholics but galling to Protestants. Then they could
not take the oath of allegiance and supremacy. So the
popular charge was not without some plausible though
utterly delusive pretexts.
Now the impression that Penn was a Jesuit at heart, in
spite of his Quaker dress and profession, gained ground
fast. Tillotson had his fears that the charge was true,
and said so; but on Penn assuring him that there was
no truth in the charge, he fully and honourably apolo-
gised. But for long the suspicion clung to Penn and
would not be cast off. That he was determined in ali
things to keep a clear conscience at all costs is manifest
from his conduct in connection with James' efforts to
secure Magdalen College, Oxford, for one of his tools.
Penn had several times before strained his favour with
the king to the last point of endurance, until in one
instance the king threatened to turn him out of the
room. In this case he wrote a letter so bold and un-
compromising as to fill us with amazement. He calls
the act one which could not in justice be defended.
Such mandates as the king addressed to the fellows he
calls a force to conscience and not very agreeable to his
other gracious indulgences. Yet because in this matter
Penn at first, before he fully understood the case, thought
some concessions might be made by the College, Ma-
caulay charges him with simony of the very worst kind.
The only other ground for such a charge is the jesting
remark of Penn to the deputation that waited on him
at Windsor. ''If the Bishop of Oxford die, Dr. Hough
may be made bishop. What think you of that, gentle-
men?" This might have been understood as a hint
that, if Dr. Hough would withdraw his opposition, it
might be better for him, if it had not been for Dr.
HougKs own words. But whatever Penn may have said
in jest (possibly not wisely) we should remember that
64 William Penn^
Dr. Hough after the interview thanked God that he did
not hint at a compromise.
Penn had already used his influence with the king in
favour of John Locke. On his return from Holland,
he obtained a pardon for *' such exiled Presbyterians as
were not guilty of treason." One of these was Sir Robert
Stuart, of Coltness, who on returning home found his
estates in the hands of James, Earl of Arran. The two
friends met in London, and Penn congratulated the
restored exile. " Ah ! Mr. Penn, Arran has got my
estate, and I fear my situation is about to be now worse
than ever.'' "What dost thou say?" exclaimed Penn,
" thou surprises and grievest me exceedingly. Come to
my house to-morrow, and I will set matters right." Penn
at once sought the Earl of Arran. " What is this, friend
James, that I hear of thee ? Thou hast taken possession
of Coltness' estate. Thou knowest that it is not thine ^
The Earl replied, " That estate I paid a great price for.
I received no other reward for my expensive and trou-
blesome embassy to France except this estate, and I am
certainly much out of pocket by the bargain." ^' All
very well, friend James, but of this assure thyself, that
if thou dost not give this moment an order on thy cham-
berlain for £100 to Coltness, to carry him down to his
native country, and £100 to subsist on till matters are
adjusted, I will make it as many thousands out of thy
way with the king." The earl complied, and after the
Revolution Coltness recovered his estate. The earl had
to refund all the rents he had received, less by the £300
he had advanced. This may be justice, but it was car-
ried out in rather high-handed fashion.
At the Yearly Meeting in May, 1687, the Quakers
at Penn's instance expressed their gratitude to the king
for the declaration of liberty of conscience for England
which he had issued in the previous month. Mindful
however of the strain of royal power by which the re-
lief was obtained, they inserted in the address this sig-
The Founder of Pennsylvania, 65
nificant clause : — " We hope the good effects thereof for
the peace, trade, and prosperity of the Kingdom will
produce such a concurrence from the Parliament as may
secure it to our posterity in after times." Tlie Knig in
Iiis reply to the deputation who presented the address,
said he hoped before he died to settle it so that after
ages shall have no reason to alter it.
Events now rapidly developed the Revolution of
1688. Penn had enjoyed the favour of James, and had
felt for him some real regard in spite of his faults. So
when William became King, his position was difficult
in the extreme. He met the danger with characteristic
truthfulness and openness. In his maxims, he says,
" Nothing needs a trick, but a trick, sincerity loathes
one/' So he now acted. He avowed his past relations
to the dethroned Monarch. He did not pretend to
have changed, but he should accept the result of events,
and certainly could not conscientiously plot against
the Government. He was several times arrested and
examined, but his perfect innocence was always clearly
established. It might be proved by an intercepted let-
ter that James had written to him, but he answered that
he could not prevent that ; it did not prove that he had
treasonable designs. William, who had been favourably
impressed by him at the Hague, believed his assertions.
In 1689, he had the joy of seeing his labours crowned
by the passing of the Act of Toleration. For this he
had toiled and suffered, written books and held confer-
ences. Now the end w^as gained, and his friends and
other Dissenters might worship God in peace. Yet
strange to say, from this time the number of Quakers so
far from increasing, diminished. They had thriven in
adversity, in prosperity they declined. But probably
one great reason was that quietism overspread the Soci-
ety, and its aggressive efforts languished. Its members
continued faithful to their "testimonies," but became
sadly careless about the unconverted around them.
66 William Fenn,
Their grandest evangelist, Fox, was their strongest bul-
wark against the quietistic spirit. He not only worked
indefatigably himself, but was very successful in stirring
up and directing others. In 1690, he was called to his
rest. Penn hovered around his dying bed, and when all
over, he sent the news to Fox's widow in a letter full of
warm sympathy and generous appreciation of his leader,
or *^ honourable elder," as Friends preferred to call him.
In spite of Fox's very noticeable imperfections, none
could appreciate better than Penn his many excellencies
and his energetic and noble-spirited labours. Only a
few weeks before, Robert Barclay was laid to rest in his
own grounds at Ury. As a gentleman and a scholar,
no doubt there were points of sympathy between him
and Penn which did not link Fox and Penn. But in
aggressive energy, in evangelistic labours, and in entire
freedom from the taint of quietism. Fox was much more
after Penn's own heart than was Barclay. He edited
Fox's journal and Barclay's works, supplying each with
an elaborate preface.
During the next four years, he was mostly " in retire-
ment" in private lodgings, in London, to avoid the
warrants issued against him at the instance of an
infamous informer, named Fuller. This man was after-
wards denounced by Parliament as a notorious cheat
and impostor. Yet, it is evident that he w^as really
dangerous, for one of his victims was actually executed.
So Penn deemed it wisest to live in privacy till the storm
blew over. But he was far from idle. Besides the work
already mentioned, he wrote his famous *^ Maxims " and
other books. Other calamities befel him one after
another, until his condition was indeed forlorn. The
King deprived him of the government of Pennsylvania.
Boguish agents robbed and defrauded him, until neither
his colony nor his Irish estates yielded him anything.
He was reduced to such straits, that when once he
thought of going to Pennsylvania he had not the
The* Founder of Pennsylvania, 67
means. Friends looked coldly on him, in spite of his
pathetic appeal to them not to forsake him in his hour
of need. To fill up the bitter cup, in 1693 he lost his
wife, the joy and consolation of his days of trial, the
constant, indefatigable, and undaunted sharer of his
labours. He had the melancholy knowledge that her
end was hastened by her taking to heart her husband's
crushing cares and unmerited ill-usage.
The coolness of the Quakers needs explanation. There
was then, as now, a strong feeling amongst some religious
people against Christian men taking an active part in
public affairs. Penn was too strong a man to yield to
it, but it caused him much trouble and suffering. And
now that AVilliam reigned, and that Penn's position,
instead of being a help and a protection to Friends,
caused them to be suspected of disloyalty, this feeling
was intensified. George Fox's son-in-law, Thomas
Lower, even sketched a form of apology, which Penn
was to sign to satisfy the weaker brethren. Penn once
joined some Friends in Pennsylvania when they had
given him up, supposing that opposing winds and tide
made his coming impossible. When they expressed
their astonishment at seeing him under the circum-
stances, he answered with that ready pleasantry which
ever characterised him, "I have been sailing against
wind and tide all my life."
But, with sublime Christian heroism, he accepted his
lot. He strengthened himself by much waiting on God,
and by such intercourse with the best spirits around him
as circumstances permitted. In his Maxims we have
not only whatever of his own prudence could be crys-
tallised ; we have also clear evidence of his own habit
of looking at earthly things in heavenly light, and of
endeavouring to discover their spiritual meaning and use.
At last, in God's mercy, the tide turned. The night
had been very dark, but the tardy dawn came at length,
and ushered in a bright though not a cloudless day.
68 William Penn, •
Cruelly deserted by tlie colonists, for wnom lie had done
and suflfered so much, he found gratitude amongst
" worldly " statesmen and courtiers. The Earl of Roch-
ester, Lord Somers, and others took the case in hand.
He asked them to gain him a full and public hearing
before the King and Council. His defence was com-
pletely successful. The charges against him were
quashed. It was proved that he had done nothing to
forfeit his patent, and was restored to his government
and proprietary. This consolation came to him at a
time when it was greatly needed. He had lost his wife,
and now his favorite son, Springett, was slowly dying
of consumption.
We must not pass by the death of his wife so briefly.
No doubt, the sad event was hastened by her wifely
sympathy with her husband in his great troubles. Yet
she had the happiness of seeing the bulk of them
removed before she died. ^^ She quietly expired," says
Penn, " in my arms, her head upon my bosom, with a
sensible and devout resignation of her soul to Almighty
God. I hope I may say she was a public as well as
private loss, for she was not only an excellent wife and
mother, but an entire and constant friend, of a more than
common capacity, and greater modesty and humility,
yet most equal and undaunted in danger." Their
wedded life had been a beautiful blending of romantic
passion with sober Christian usefulness. Religion, and
culture, and practical philanthropy had gone hand-in-
hand in their social life.
Whilst speaking of this bitter cross, it will be well to
anticipate a little, and record the death of his favorite
son, Springett. This noble and gifted youth died of
consumption. Penn did all that a father's love could
suggest, all that personal attention could do to lengthen
his days. But the end, though slow in its approach,
was yet too sure, and the darling boy expired in his
father's arms early in 1696.
The^ Founder of Pennsylvania, 69
The younger son, William, was of a very different
stamp. Cavalier grace, and sensuousness which degene-
rated into sensuality, marked his character. Martial and
generous in disposition, with no mean capacity for
business, he early shewed a tendency to idle frivolous-
ness and then to gross indulgence, which caused his
father the keenest pain. The refined enjoyments of his
home were not to his taste, so he sought in foreign cities
the worst indulgences they could afford. And when his
father was far away in Pennsylvania, he launched out
into riot and excesses which filled that father's heart
with shame and dismay.
Early in 1696, William Penn married as his second
wife Hannah Callowhill of Bristol, a woman of great
energy and ability. She was an admirable helper in
all good works.
For six years after his restoration to his rights, Penn
was content to leave Pennsylvania in the hands of his
cousin, Colonel Markham. His principal employments
then were literary and ministerial.
In 1694, we find him using his new-found liberty to
preach in the West of England. His standing in the
Society of Friends had been re-assured ; the usual certi-
ficate given by the brethren to all their preachers who
travel, stating that he was a "minister in unity and
good esteem among us," could be freely given, and he
visited his brethren with comfort and acceptance. He
travelled, therefore, in the Western counties, " having
meetings almost daily in the most considerable towns
and other places in those counties, to which the people
flocked abundantly; and his testimony to the truth
answering to that of God in their consciences was
assented to by many." We are told that the Mayors of
these towns generally consented to their having the
Town Halls for their meetings, " for the respect they
had for him, few places else being sufficient to hold the
meetings." Eeturning to London, he had a more
70 William Penn,
painful duty to perform, which the following extract
from a contemporary letter describes.
Henry Goulding, of London, to Robert Barclay, junr.,
28th of 12th mo., 1694.
Being now a writing, I think it not unfit to acquaint
thee in a brief hint what passed at Eatcliff meeting, last
First-day (Sunday) week, where was William Penn,
John Vaughton, and George Keith. The latter having
had no time till the breaking up of the meeting, he then
desired to be heard. Friends all stayed. After a short
appologie, he fell a reflecting on the manner of John
Vaughton's going to prayer, calling it a hasty sacrifice,
comparing to Saul's. Then he fell upon doctrinall
points, reflecting on our unsoundness, particularly the
epistle of John i. 7 ; saying that the blood there men-
tioned was by us preacht only misticall, whereas, he
affirmed, it had no such signification, neither did any
there say to the contrary. In short, the tendency of all
he said was to expose Friends as unsound. 'Twas a
great and mixt meeting. William Penn grew uneasy;
after about a quarter-of-an-hour, he stood up, saying to
this purpose, ' In the name of the Lord, he was concerned
to sound the truth over the head of this apostate and
common opposer.' After a few words, George Keith was
silent. William Penn opened to the people our belief
of the virtue and efficacy of the blessed blood shed on
the Cross ; and also shewed the people the reason why
we did not so frequently press Christ's death and suffer-
ings as in the Apostles' days, they being concerned
among such as believed not his outward coming, but
among Christiandom was the notion generally held, but
that of the inward denied and opposed. When he had
done, George Keith would be speaking, but Friends
went away, and left him in a great anger and quarrell."
In Barclay's *^ Inner Life, &c.," it is rightly said that
Keith's expulsion was not for unsound doctrine, though
he charged the brethren with being unsound, but for
The Founder of Pennsylvania, 71
contempt of authority. He tried to gather a congrega-
tion in London, but his following seems to have very
soon dwindled, for a letter to Kobert Barclay, junr.,
dated London, 22nd of December, 169G, after speaknig
of the fierce counterfires of pamphlets concerning his
controversy, says '' Last Fifth-day (Thursday) George
Keith had but 10 or 12 at his meeting. His show is
much over. But his enmity remains. Oh, that he
might see his declension, and repent of the evil he hath
done, if it be the Lord's will.''
George Keith had been Penn's fellow-labourer and
fellow-sufiPerer. To see him now attacking his old
friends, and manifesting such a bitter and factious spirit,
was most painful. In 1696, after Keith was disowned
by the Society Penn endeavoured to neutralize the effect
of his misrepresentations by a work entitled "More
work for George Keith." In this, he reproduces from
Keith's former publications abundant replies to his
present statements. There is ample proof that, as in
Naylor's case, Friends clung lovingly to the misguided
man to the very last/^ [For his after confession of his
fault see sketch of Barclay.]
*To this period belongs also the following letter, inserted as a speci-
men of Penn's familiar correspondence with his brethren. The three
or four months service, to which he refers, is the journey in the West,
already spoken of.
W. Penn to R. B., junr.
London, the 7th of the 12th mo., 1694.
Dear and well-beloved Friend,
My heart is much affected with the Lord's goodness to thee and thy
dear relations, that he has remembered you, among the many ni
Israel, whom this day he is visiting with his loving power and spring
of life, so that they had have sitten dry and barren, are now blossonnng
as a rose and bringing forth to the praises of Him that has called
them. Wherefore, dear Robert, let thine eye be above the world and
the comforts that fade, to the unfading glory, and keep close to the
Lord, that thou mayest come through openings and visions to
possessions, and like a good souldler encounter the enemy in his
appearances as well to ensnare by the lawful as the unlawful things ;
and approve thy heart to the Lord in the way of the Cross and daily
dying and living. O! great is the mystery of godliness, but the grace
is sufficient ! I rejoice at Peter Gardiner's good service ; the Lord will
72 William Penn,
It has ever been a custom of the Quakers to seek the
presence of the great and the powerful, not for personal
advantages, but in order to urge on them the claims of
religion, and the opportunities and responsibilities of
their position. In many instances, the results of these
interviews speak for themselves, but as they justly hold,
duty does not depend on results. In such a spirit,
William Penn sought Peter the Great, in 1696, when
he was working as a shipwright, at Greenwich. The
young Czar asked many questions about the Friends and
their views. It is amusing to find him asking Thomas
Story of what use would they be to any kingdom if they
would not fight. That he was more than amused by
the peculiar views and manners of the Friends, is evident
from his remark after a sermon preached by a Friend
in Denmark, that whoever could live according to such
doctrines, would be happy.
Penn made a second, and as it proved, a final voyage
to America, in 1699. He intended to settle there with
his wife and family, and made his arrangements accord-
ingly. But events were too strong for him, and he
returned in about two years, and never again crossed the
Atlantic. It is certain, however, that even after this, he
intended to return and spend the rest of his days in the
colony. In a letter written three years afterwards, he
said, "Had you settled a reasonable revenue, I would
have returned and laid my bones among you, and my
wife's, too, after her mother's death."
Yet, in this short time, he had done much for Penn-
sylvania. Bills against piracy and smuggling, and for
work when, how, and hy whom He will. I have had three or four
months sore travel with blessed success; blessed be His Name. . .
Dear Kobert, in the love of the precious truth, in which I desire thou
maist grow up to fill thy dear and honorable father's place, I bid thee
farewell. I am,
Thy reall and affectionate friend,
William Penn.
P. S. — My journey for Ireland will not be soon, as I hoped, but shall
inform thee. Vale.
The Founder of Pennsylvania, 73
the just treatment of negroes, had been passed ; better
arrangements for the health and improvement of Phila-
delphTa had been made, and a new Charter or frame of
Government, and a just system of taxation had been intro-
duced, the expense of governing the Province having,
hitherto, fallen on the Governor. Even now, no provi-
sion was made for his claims as proprietor. Treaties were
made with the Susquehannah and other tribes of Indians ;
and finally, just on the eve of the Governor's departure,
Philadelphia was incorporated. Many minor acts were
passed, some of them curiously illustrating the colonists'
ideas of a paternal and religious government. ^ Not only
were sins against purity and honesty to be punished, but,
amongst others, bills were passed on the following mat-
ters : the spreading of false news, the names of the days
and months of the year, to prevent cursing and swear-
ing, against scolding, for the dimensions of casks, and
true packing of meat, against drunkenness and drinking
healths, and against selling rum to the Indians. This
much was accomplished by the Assembly; probably,
more would have been done, but for abounding jealousies.
The Province and the other Territories (the districts
purchased from the Duke of York) were jealous of each
other, and both were jealous of the Governor.
In July, 1701, Penn received a communication from
the king,\vl>ich sorely puzzled him. It demanded that
the American proprietaries should unite for the defence
of the Colonies, and that Pennsylvania should contribute
£350 for the defence of the New York frontier. Apostle
of peace though he was, he could do no otherwise than
lay the letter before the Assembly. That body delayed
and finessed, and finally, saying nothing of peace prin-
ciples, pleaded their poverty as a reason for postponing
the further consideration of the matter, until it w^as more
urgent. Thus, this question of peace, which so long
divided Pennsylvania, was for the present shelved. But
it is the boast of Friends that for 70 years Pennsylvania
74 ' William Fenn,
had no army, and tliougli so near botli Indians and
Frenchmen, suffered nothing through the lack of one.
That State "subsisted in the midst of six Indian nations,"
says Okhnixon, " without so much as a militia for her
defence. Whatever the quarrels of the Pennsylvanian
Indians were with others, they uniformly respected and
held as it were sacred, the territories of William Penn.
The Pennsylvanians never lost man, woman, or child by
them, which neither the colony of Maryland, nor that
of Virginia could say, no more than the great colony of
New England." To complete the argument for non-
resistance, see what occurred when Pennsylvania got an
army. *' From that hour the Pennsylvanians transferred
their confidence in Christian principles to a confidence
in their arms ; and from that hour to the present they
have been subject to war." (Dymond's Essays, 4th
edition, p. 192.)
But it must not be supposed that the refusal to fight
meant either unwillingness or inability to use moral
means for self-protection. In 1701, Penn heard of a
riot in East Jersey, and set off at once with some friends
to quell it. It was put down before he reached the spot,
but gave him occasion fully to state his views. " If
lenitives would not do, coercives should be tried. The
leaders should be eyed, and some should be forced to
declare them by the rigour of the law ; and those who
were found to be such should bear the burden of such
sedition, which would be the best way to behead the
body without danger."
Amidst all this care and work, Penn found time to
make preaching tours in Pennsylvania, New Jersey and
Maryland. He and his family won a warm place in the
hearts of the Friends here, as well as elsewhere. He might
have a large and handsome house at Pennsbury, and his
style of living might be superior to that of his neigh-
bours ; but he could pick up a bare-legged Quaker girl
and give her a ride behind him to '^ meeting," and he
The Founder of Pennsylvania. 75
had a kindly word and pleasantry for the poor as much
as for the rich. " The Governor is our pater patriae,"
writes one of the Colonists, " and his worth is no new
thing to us. His excellent wife is beloved of all."
As l\Minsylvania was the birthplace of Abolition, the
German Friends at Germantown first raising the ques-
tion, it is interesting to see what Penn did in the matter.
He passed a Bill for regulating the trial and punishment
of negro wrong-doers. But he wished to go further,
and proposed that negro marriages should be legal, and
that the rights of negro-women should be secured by
hiAV ; but the Assembly threw out these Bills. In 1696
the Philadelphia Yearly Meeting had resolved that
buying, selling, and holding slaves was contrary to the
teachings of Christianity. Penn followed up this reso-
lution by urging on the Society of Friends in Pennsyl-
vania the recognition of the spiritual claims of negroes.
Henceforth, until the Society insisted on its members
liberating their slaves, they were taught the Scriptures,
and encouraged to attend divine worship.
Penn arrived at Portsmouth, in the middle of Decem-
ber, 1701, after a voyage of about six weeks. The chief
business that called him home, was the scheme of William
III. for amalgamating all the American provinces as
regal Governments. To his intense relief^ that scheme
was dropped/ Soon after this, the king died, and Queen
Anne, the daughter of Penn's friend and guardian, James
IL, ascended the throne. He once more enjoyed royal
favour in a marked degree. He was chosen to present
to the Queen the Quaker address, thanking her for
promising to maintain the Act of Toleration. After the
address was read, " Mr. Penn," said the Queen, " I am
so well pleased that what I have said is to your satisfac-
tion, that you and your Friends may be assured of my
protection."
Of the remaining years of Penn\s life, we have very
imperfect accounts. He edited the works of two Quaker
76 William Penny
4
ministers, those of John Whitehead i:i 1704; those of
John Banks, in 1711. In 1709, he wrote " Some account
of the Life and Writings of Bulstrode Whitlocke, Esq.,"
the famous lawyer and stout Puritan, whom he had
known and greatly esteemed. He also travelled repeat-
edly as a minister, and took an active interest in the
affairs of the Quakers. Thus, in 1710, Sir D, Dalrymple
writes to R. Barclay, junr., who had written to him
about the sufferings of Edinboro' Friends: — "I have
written fully to Mr. Penn by this post, who had written
to me upon the same subject, to whom I refer you.'*'
Again, in 1711, he with others waited on the Duke of
Ormond (whom he had known before he became a
Friend) to thank him for the kindness which he had
shewn to Friends in Ireland during his Lord Lieu-
tenancy.
Meantime had occurred the sad troubles with his late
agent Philip Ford, which crippled his resources, broke
down his health, and even at one time made him a
prisoner in the Fleet for debt. 01dm ixon states the
fact thus : — *^ The troubles that befel Mr. Penn in the
latter part of his life are of a nature too private to have
a place in a public history. He trusted an ungrateful,
unjust agent too much with the management of it; and
when he expected to have been thousands of pounds
the better, found himself thousands of pounds in debt :
insomuch that he was restrained in his liberty within
the privilege of the Fleet by a tedious and unsuccessful
law suit, which together with age, broke his spirits, not
easy to be broken, and rendered himself incapable of
business and society, as he w^as wont to have been in the
days of his health and vigour both of body and mind."
The story is a very sad one. Ford was a Quaker lawyer,
and undoubtedly Penn had been far too trustful and
careless with him. He had even borrowed money from
him on the security of his colony. Ford repaid his
kindness and trust by cheating him out of thousands,
Tlie Founder of Pennsylvania, 77
and his widow and son went farther, and tried to snatch
the colony from Penn's grasp. But it was ruled that
" it would not be decent to make (jfovernment ambula-
tory," and their claim was not allowed.
The trouble thus caused resulted in Penn having
several apoplectic fits, which left him thoroughly shat-
tered. For six years he lingered in second childhood,
lovingly nursed by his wife. The best account of his
last days occurs in the Journal of Thomas Story, a dis-
tinguished Quaker minister, a scholar and a naturalist,
wdiom he had made the first recorder of Philadelphia.
The end came very gently and peacefully. After the
long and stormy voyage, the vessel came into harbour
through unwonted calms and waters almost without a
ripple. He was laid in his grave in Jordan's meeting-
house beside his dearly loved Guli, and not far from his
mother and Isaac Pennington. Many gathered there
to pay the last honours. And since that day, the spot
hallowed by his dust has been a well- visited shrine,
where many have not only thought admiringly of his
deeds, but have also thanked God for the grace that
was in him.
If Macaulay was prejudiced against Penn, his testi-
mony to his world-wide fame is the more reliable. We
will quote it as it stands. " Kival nations and hostile
sects have agreed in canonising him. England is proud
of his name. A great commonwealth beyond the At-
lantic regards him Avith a reverence similar to that which
the Athenians felt for Theseus, and the Romans for
Quirinus. The respected society of which he was a
member honours him as an apostle. By pious men of
other denominations he is usually regarded as a bright
pattern of Christian virtue. Meanwhile admirers of a
very different sort have sounded his praises. The
French philosophers of the eighteenth century pardoned
what they regarded as his superstitious fancies in con-
sideration of his contempt for priests, and of his cosmo-
78 William Fenn,
polltan benevolence, impartially extended to all races
and to all creeds. IJis name has thus become, through-
out all civilised countries, a synonym for probity and
philanthropy."
",Nor is this reputation altogether unmerited. Penn
was without doubt a man of eminent virtues. He had
a strong sense of religious duty, and a fervent desire to
promote the happiness of mankind. On one or two
points of high importance he had notions more correct
than were in his day common, even among men of en-
larged minds ; and as the proprietor and legislator of a
province, which, being almost uninhabited when it came
into his possession, afforded a clear field for moral ex-
periments, he had the rare good fortune of being able
to carry his theories into practice without any com-
promise, and yet without any shock to existing institu-
tions. He will always be mentioned with honour as
the founder of a Colony, who did not in his dealings
with a savage people abuse the strength derived from
civilisation, and as a law-giver who in an age of perse-
cution, made religious liberty the corner-stone of a
polity."
This testimony is bare justice, indeed it needs supple-
menting. Macaulay has done justice to his fame, but
not to his usefulness or to his beautiful character. For
to use the beautiful figure which the E-t. Hon. W. E.
Forster employs, " like as the citizens of Philadelphia
are even now building the streets which he planned on
the unpeopled waste, so are the workmen in the temple
of freedom yet labouring at the design which he
sketched out." And in the work they have not only
his designs to assist them, but the inspiration of his
noble life to stimulate them.
The story of Penn's life, so noble and yet so sad in
many parts, has touched many hearts. *' He reminds
me of Abraham or ^neas more than any one else," says
Professor Seeley. " I find him," says Tennyson, (writing
The Founder of Pennsylvania, 79
Mar. orJ, 1882, to the Historical Society of Pennsyl-
vania), no comet of a season, but the fixed light of a
dark and graceless age, shining into the present — a
good man and true." In Caroline Fox's "Memories of
Old Friends" we read, — "He (Ernest de Bunsen)'has
been translating William Penn's life into German and
sent a copy to Humboldt, from whom he received two
charming letters about it, in one saying that he has
read every word, and that the contemplation of such a
life has contributed to the peace of his old age."
Such testimonies could be multiplied indefinitely.
The character and life that inspire such feelings need
no defence and no eulogy.
ROBEET BARCLAY,
THE
APOLOGIST OF QUAKEEISM.
81
PEEFACE.
This sketch was outlined as a companion sketch to those
of Fox and Penn. But the opportunity of embodying in
it extracts from unpublished letters in the keeping of mem-
bers of the Barclay family, (for which the author cannot be
too grateful,) led to its being enlarged to a disproportionate
size. But the reader will not regret this, when he finds
himself furnished with new materials throwing light on a
character so little understood. To most readers, Barclay
is merely a name ; the author has attempted to realise the
man and his work, as far as the still very imperfect infor-
mation will allow.
82
EOBEKT BAECLAY,
THE
APOLOGIST OF QUAKERISM.
GEOEGE FOX, that fervid evangelist wlio anticipa-
ted Wesley in claiming the whole world as his parish,
visited Scotland only once. This was in 1657. But
some years previously, several Quaker ministers, includ-
ing two lady-evangelists, Catherine Evans and Sarah
Cheevers, had preached " the truth '' there, and meetings
had been gathered, says Sewel the Quaker historian, in
Edinburgh, Aberdeen, and other places. James Naylor
preached in Scotland as early as 1651, with his usual
fervour and success. But no church of professed
" Friends " was formed in Aberdeen until 1662, wdien
Alexander Jaffray sometime j)rovost of Aberdeen, one
of the Scottish Commissioners to King Charles, and a
member of CromwelFs Parliament, w^as led along with
others to a full and open acceptance of Quakerism by
William Dewsbury. The number of the names was
small, but they were men and women wdiose energy and
sterling worth made them noteworthy. Their decision
may be measured by their daring the contempt so pro-
fusely accorded the " Friends ^' by the orthodox ; *^ pos-
sessed with the devil, demented, blasphemous deniers of
the true Christ " being some of the expressions hurled at
them by the neighbouring pulpits. In 1666, they were
strengthened by the accession of Colonel David Bar-
clay, and a little later by that of his son, Robert Bar-
clay, the future Apologist of Quakerism. Fully then
was the expectation of George Fox realised, of which
83
84 Robert Barclay,
he afterwards told Kobert Barclay, in 1675, "As soon
as ever my horse set his foot upon the land of the Scot-
tish nation, the infinite sparkles of life sparkled about
me ; and so as I rid with divers friends, I saw the seed
of the seedsman Christ that was sown ; but abundance
of clods — foul and filthy earth — was above it; and a
great winter and storms and tempests of work." " Thick
cloddy earth of hypocrisy and falseness atop," says the
corresponding passage of his journal, " and a briary
brambly nature, which is to be turned up with God's
Word, and ploughed up with his spiritual plough, before
God^s seed brings forth heavenly and spiritual fruit to
his glory. But the husbandman is to wait in patience."
David Barclay represented an ancient and honourable
family, supposed to be a branch of the Berkeleys in
Gloucestershire. He was a lineal descendant of Theo-
bald de Berkeley, born about 1110, who held a large
estate in Kincardine, and was conspicuous in the court
of David I. In the 15th century, Alexander Berkeley
began to spell the name Barclay, and his descendants
followed his example.* They were a powerful, some-
times a turbulent race, with an occasional instance of a
literary or scholarly scion. David Barclay's father
having wrecked his fortune by spendthrift and easy-
going habits, his sons had to shift for themselves.
Three of them died before their father, two in infancy,
the third, James, falling at the battle of Philiphaugh,
whilst fighting under his brother David. Of the two
survivors, the younger, Bobert, became a Catholic priest,
and flourished in Paris, becoming Bector of the Scottish
College there. Of David, the elder and the father of
the subject of this sketch, we must speak more at length.
* Of the father of this Alexander de Barclay, whose name was David,
we read that he was the " ringleader of the savage barons who exag-
gerated the atrocities of a reckless age by actually boiling an obnox-
ious sherifi' of the Mearns in a cauldron, and then ' suppin' the broo'."
Yet the son was something of a poet, and some lines full of good advice,
said to be from his pen, are given in the " Short Account of R. Barclay."
Tlie Apologist of Quakerism. 85
David Barclay was born at Kirtoimhill, in 1610.
The only patrimony he got from his father was a good
education : for in 1633, the old family estates were sold
to pay off his father's debts. Finding that he had to
make his own way in the world, with all the energy of
his race he " flung himself into the saddle of opportunity
as a soldier of fortune," and rose to the rank of major in
the army of Gustavus Adolphus, specially distinguishing
himself at Lutzen. Keturning home with substantial
gains as well as honours, when the civil war broke out
he became a colonel in the Royal Army. He fought
under Leslie at Philiphaugh, and effectively assisted
Middleton in holding the north, until Cromwell removed
him from command, after his victory at Preston-pans.
Then he retired from military service, bought the Ury
estate, and with his wife and son Robert settled there.
He had contracted an advantageous marriage in the
spring of 1648, with Catherine, daughter of Sir Robert
Gordon, of Gordonstown. The father was the second
son of the Earl of Sutherland and second cousin to
James I. He was a man of great parts, and held various
high offices under the Crown. After his marriage, David
Barclay sat in Parliament for Sutherland, and then for
Angus and Kincardine. He used his influence to regain
possession of his Ury estate which had been seized by
General Monk, and to befriend other gentlemen who
were in similar trouble, and his success in these efforts
made him very popular. Then he retired into private
life. In 1663, he lost his excellent wife when Robert
was not fifteen. But before her death, she took one step
of the greatest moment to Robert. He had been sent
to Paris, to finish his education under his uncle's eye.
But though his progress must have satisfied even a
mother's pride, she, herself a staunch Protestant, felt a
great anxiety lest he should adopt the Romisli faith.
So, when dying of consumption, she obtained from his
father the promise that he should be recalled home.
86 Robert Barclay ^
This step was farther urged by her mother, good old
lady Gordon, in an earnest letter which still exists.
Accordingly Col. Barclay visited his brother in Paris in
1664, and after vigorous opposition from him, brought
his son home.
But the time had come for a complete change in the
tone and tenour of David Barclay's life. He had gained
renown and position, and had allied himself with a
branch of the Royal family, but these had brought him
neither peace nor satisfaction. Boyal blood is no guar-
antee against disease and death, and he had had to see
his beloved wife fade away and die at the early age of
forty-three. He had risked limb and life, and had
striven with hand and brain to w^in renown, and posi-
tion, and wealth, only to find that these things expose
their possessor to special trials and dangers. He had
found out by hard experience how uncertain was his
tenure of earthly good. His sorrows and disappoint-
ments prepared his heart for more earnestness about
spiritual truth than he had hitherto manifested, and
Quakerism was to present that truth in a form which
would satisfy his mind and heart.
Perhaps it was whilst on the journey to fetch home
his son, that he became closely acquainted with the
Quakers. He tells us how he had heard of their sim-
ple and conscientious living, and " he considered within
himself that if they were really such as even their ene-
mies were forced to acknowledge, there must be some-
thing extraordinary about them.'' Whether or not this
knowledge was gained in Aberdeen, where a meeting
had been gathered now more than a year, we do not
know. But, "being in London" on some errand or
other, he had opportunities to enquire into the Quaker
principles and practises, which he did to such purpose,
that his mind became convinced that their tenets were
according to the Scriptures. Still, the cautious Scotch-
man did not immediately join them.
The Apologist of Quakerism, 87
Immediately afterwards we find David Barclay in
prison in Edinbro' Castle. Although he had suffered
for the king, he was accused of having held office under
Cromwell, and it might have gone hardly with him had
he not been befriended by his old chief, the Earl of
Middleton. Through the influence of that nobleman
the proceedings w^ere quashed, and he was liberated.
This imprisonment, in the ordering of God's provi-
dence, brought to the «-ight issue the great crisis of his
life. In the same room with him in Edinbro' Castle
was imprisoned Sir John Swintoune, who from a soldier
and a Presbyterian had become a thorough Quaker.
He was so zealous in propagating his opinions that the
only way to silence him was to keep him in solitary
confinement, which was at one time done for several
weeks. No wonder, then, that he urged on David Bar-
clay the full acceptance of the truth.
On leaving the Castle, the colonel seems to have re-
mained in Edinbro' even after he had sent his son, in
company with a Quaker, David Falconer, to Ury. In
Edinbro' he came out as an acknowledged Friend.
He tells us what points satisfied his sober and careful
judgment that the Quakers were right. He was struck
with the correspondence between their peace principles
and Isaiah's prophecy, that in Gosi^el times they would
beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears
into pruning-hooks. Then again, they were all as
brothers, loving and standing by each other, and had
not Christ said, that his disciples should be known by
their mutual love ? The courageous soldier was in sym-
pathy with those who, whilst others worshipped God by
stealth, bravely dared all persecution by openly assem-
bling to worship God as their consciences dictated. So
he thought within himself, that *'if the Lord Jesus
Christ had a visible Church on earth these must be
they." But all this merely cleared the ground for the
final and decisive proof, without which he would never
88 Robert Barclay,
have made a Friend. Feeling his judgment satisjfied by
these tests, he yielded his heart to the influence of the
truth, and he experienced a peace which insults and
sufferings could not disturb, and gained an experimental
acquaintance with God that satisfied the cravings of his
soul.
He became distinguished for his solemn fervour in
prayer, his deep piety and uncomplaining meekness in
ill-usage — the latter, *^ a virtue,'' says one of his descend-
ants, "he was before very much unacquainted with."
"One of his relations, upon an occasion of uncommon
rudeness, lamenting that he should be now treated so
differently from what formerly he had been, he answered,
that he found more satisfaction as well as honour in being
thus insulted for his religious principles, than when, some
years before, it was usual for the magistrates as he passed
through Aberdeen, to meet him several miles, and con-
duct him to a public entertainment in their town-house,
and then convey him so far out again, in order to gain
his favour." This noble testimony is the subject of one
of Whittier's most spirited ballads. The old soldier lived
to a rijDe old age, his son only surviving him four years.
We have thus traced the career of the father, that we
may better understand the influences through which the
son passed before his hearty acceptance of Quakerism.
He belonged to a family divided in religious opinions,
some of the Catholic faith, some Protestant to the core.
His abilities, connections, and worldly expectations, all
invited him to a distinguished career. Yet from the
noblest and purest motives he turned away from bril-
liant prospects, and from older and more respected
churches, and linked himself with a new, despised and
persecuted sect.
Robert Barclay was born at Gordonstown, Oct. 23rd,
1648. From both sides of his parentage, he seems to
have inherited scholarly ability and literary tastes. His
grandfather, Sir Robert Gordon, was a man of culture
The Apologist of Quakerism, 89
and refinement, and his great-grandfather, John Gordon
(father-in-hiw of Sir Kobert), was Dean of Saruin, a
good classical scholar and a keen theologian. On the
other side, the Barclays seem to have supplied the
Catholic church with several theologians and scholars.
From early years he gave promise of great intellectual
powers, which were sedulously cultivated at the best
schools that Scotland possessed. His uncle Robert
offered to look after his education, and took him in hand,
as he tells us, when he had "scarcely got out of his child-
hood." But early as he left Scotland for Paris, he
carried wdth him such impressions of the narrowness
and bigotry of his Calvinistic countrymen as remained
with him through life. In Paris, his uncle and others
so skilfully assailed his Protestant instincts that they
succumbed, and he became an avowed Catholic. He
was a great favourite with his uncle, who purposed mak-
ing him his heir, and who watched him through his
brilliant college course with tbe greatest delight.
But whilst his uncle was thus satisfied, his mother's
heart was filled with dismay at the thought of her son
growing up a Catholic — a consummation for which his
scholarly proficiency was poor compensation. She
therefore on her death-bed obtained from his father a
promise that her son should be brought home.
On this errand the Colonel went to Paris, in 1664.
But he found his brother stoutly opposed to parting
with his nephew. He met the argument of worldly
welfare by offering to buy Bobert a larger estate than
his father's, and put him in possession immediately.
But the boy had a noble reverence for his father in spite
of his long absence from home, and his wish settled the
question with him, and he replied to all pleas, " He is
my father and must be obeyed." So father and son
returned home together, and the uncle's property event-
ually enriched the College of which he was Bector, and
other religious houses in France.
90 Robert Barclay,
When David Barclay was passing through that crisis
in his spiritual history which resulted in his embracing
Quakerism, he made no efforts to win his son to the
same view. No doubt he had all a new convert's confi-
dence in the power of *Hhe truth." Probably he had
also a Quaker's persuasion that though such efforts
might sway the understanding, they could not "reach"
the soul. He said he wished the change to come from
conviction, not from imitation. ' The early Friends
never considered themselves a sect, and did not seek
proselytes so much as they sought to spread deep spirit-
ual life. In the end at least, the laissez-faire method
resulted in what the father wished. The son quietly
looked around on the different classes of professed
Christians. He felt his old repugnance to the Calvin-
ists invincible. The latitudinarians, with all their pro-
fessed charity and condemnation of "judging," pleased
him no better. Finally, he gave his hearty allegiance
to Friends within twelve months of his father's admis-
sion to their fellowship.
It is an interesting question, "What led such a clear
and powerful mind to accept Quakerism ? "
It could not fail to impress such a nature to see the
great change which had passed over his father. The
warrior and the man of the world had become a con-
sistent Friend, trusting God to plead his cause, anxious
most about spiritual wealth, careful most to walk closely
and humbly with God. Further, it seemed to him
that whilst others were wonderfully strict in creed, the
Friends, whom they called heretics, far surpassed them
in holy and exemplary living. Lastly, came the evi-
dence that so often in those days turned the scale decis-
ively in favor of the new brotherhood. The very first
time that Robert Barclay attended a Friends' meeting
he was struck by the awful Presence there ; he felt that
God was in that place. Some minister who was present
used these ej)igrammatic words, which are said to have
The Apologist of Quakerism, 91
made a groat impression on liim. " In stilness there is
fulness, in fulness there is nothingness, in nothingness
there are all things/' It is true that we are told that
Sir John Swintoune and another Friend named Halli-
day were specially helpful to him at this critical time.
But w^e have the clearest evidence that what most im-
jiressed him and attracted him to Friends was not their
ministry, but the marvellous divine influence enjoyed in
the period of silent waiting upon God. His intimate
friend, Andrew Jaflfray, bears testimony that he was
"reached'' in the time of silence. His own words, too,
in his apology are unmistakable ; they are introduced
into his glowing descri2)tion of an ideal Friends' meet-
ing, as a personal testimony to the value of silent wor-
ship. Speaking of his own conversion, he says, "Who
not by strength of argument, or by a particular disqui-
sition of each doctrine, and convincement of my under-
standing thereby, came to receive and bear witness to
the truth, but by being secretly reached by this Life.
For when I came into the silent assemblies of God's peo-
ple, I felt a secret power amongst them which touched
my heart ; and as I gave way unto it, I found the evil
weakening in me, and the good raised up; and so I be-
came thus knit and united unto them, hungering more
and more after the increase of this power and life,
whereby I might find myself perfectly redeemed.''
Apology, Prop. XL, Sect. 7.
Boy as Barclay was when he returned from Paris, in
spite of his precocity it may be questioned whether his
surrender of Catholicism cost him much conflict of soul,
though he assures us in his "Vindication," he did "turn
from that way not without sincere and real convictions
of the errors of it." But beyond question, it would
cost him a severe struggle to surrender his proud van-
tage ground as a scholar, and to join a sect who taught
not only that learning was not necessary to a saving-
knowledge of Christ, but also that it had small share in
92 Robert Barclay^
the efficient ministry of the Gospel. The battle was
first fought out in his own search for peace and light.
From his childhood he had been ambitious of scholar-
ship. Conscious, as he tells us in the introduction to
his treatise on "Universal Love," of abilities beyond the
average, he had a pleasure in intellectual pursuits which
led him to follow them up with keen relish for their
own sakes. But now the appetite was to receive a check,
not only that it might ever afterwards keep its right
place, but that he might learn how much more effect-
ively God can teach than can the best of men. George
Fox had to learn from sad experience tliat even en-
lightened Christians cannot stand instead of God. Rob-
ert Barclay had to learn by a shorter, but no doubt
sharp experience, that his favourite books could do noth-
ing for him in spiritual religion without Christ, and that
in spiritual power and spiritual discernment illiterate
men might be by far his superiors. He has described
the experience in his Apology, when speaking of the
insufficiency of learning to make a true minister, and
the possibility of being a true minister without it.
"And if in any age since the Apostles' days, God hath purposed to
show his power in weak instruments, for tlie battering down of the
carnal and heathenish wisdom, and restoring again the ancient
simplicity of truth, this is it. For in our day, God hath raised up
witnesses for himself as he did the fishermen of old, many, yea most
of whom are labouring and mechanic men, who, altogether without
that learning, have by the power and spirit of God, struck at the very
root and ground of Babylon; and in the strength and might of this
power have gathered thousands by reaching their consciences into
the same power and life, who, as to the outward part, have been far
more knowing than they, yet not able to resist the virtue that pro-
ceeded from them. Of which I myself am a true witness, and can
declare from certain experience; because my heart hath often been
greatly broken aiul tendered by that virtuous life that proceeded from
the powerful ministry of those illiterate men. . . . What shall I
say then to you who are lovers of learning and admirers of knowledge?
Was not I also a lover and admirer of it, who also sought after it
according to my age and capacity. But it pleased God in his unutter-
able love, early to withstand my vain endeavours, while I was yet but
eighteen years of age, and made me seriously to consider (which I
wish may also befal others) that without holiness and regeneration no
man can see God ; and that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of
The Apologist of Quakerism, 93
wisdom, and to depart from iniquity a good understanding; and how
much knowledge pulleth up, and leadeth away from that quietness,
stilhie.ss and humihty of mind, \vhei'e the Lord aj^pears and his
heavenly wisdom is revealed. . . . Therefore, seeing that among
them (these excellent, though despised, hecause illiterate witnesses of
God) I with many others, have found the heavenly food that gives
contentment, let my soul seek after this learning, and wait for it for
ever." Truth Triumphant, p. 42G.
In tlie means and mode of liis conversion Robert
Barclay was like many of his co-religionists in Scotland.
It is an interesting feature of Scottish Quakerism that
a number of its adherents were not gained by preaching.
Many of the early Friends tell us that they adopted the
Quaker views before they knew of the existence of any
society which held such views. Their hearts yearned
after an ideal which they did not find in any existing
sect. But when Quakerism was j^resented to their view,
they recognised in it the features which they had learned
to love. The case of Alexander Jaffray is fairly repre-
sentative of others, and his diary enables us to watch
the ])rocess in minute detail in most of its stages. The
awakened soul gets disgusted with chopping logic, and
with manipulating the dry bones of a formal theology.
It longs for bread and is offered a stone. It longs for
pure spiritual life and for true holiness, and for an
experimental acquaintance with God that shall satisfy
its quickened instincts; and instead it finds the sects
around it mostly busied with preparations for living
rather than with life, ever constructing scientific scaf-
folding but not building, keenly discussing the right
attitude of the soul towards God rather than having
actual dealings with Him. Quakerism comes on the
scene and at once commends itself to such a soul by
dealing with the practical life, putting the teaching and
promises of the Bible to the test of experience, and
finding that they actually work and lead to assured
conviction, hearty consecration, and holy living. Modern
Quakerism has come to be associated with a few nega-
tions; primitive Quakerism won its triumphs by a
94 Robert Barclay,
robust and full-blooded spiritual life. The Assembly's
catechism correctly defined the chief end of man to be
"to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever." The
Friends exemplified the definition in actual life. Most
professing Christians, in spite of their beautifully
finished creed, were still in bondage to questions like
these : " Shall we succeed in life, and what will men
think of us, and how will they treat us, if we act up to
our convictions ?" Such questions troubled the Quakers
very little. They acted as if they believed religion a
sufiicient end and object in life, worth living for, and
worth dying for. This was the way in which they
glorified God, and so they did enjoy Him even in this
life. They had great peace and joy in believing. The
power of God was in their gatherings and attended
their ministry. They were mighty in prayer, and did
wonders through their strong faith. Their acquaint-
ance with experimental religion was astonishing, and
their knowledge of the word of God extensive and
practically useful, such as might be expected from men
who searched it lovingly, and relied upon its counsels
in the affairs of life. Above all they were enabled to
do what they most aspired to do, to live a holy life.
They were rich not only in gifts but in grace. All this
commended Quakerism to such men as Swintoune and
Jaffray and the Barclays. It was better proof than the
exactest syllogism, and far more satisfying to the soul
than the best compacted creed. ^^-^
Henceforth Kobert Barclay's life is closely connected
with the history of Quakerism, and especially of Quaker-
ism in northern Scotland. He did not travel so much
as many Friends beyond his own country in the service
of the gospel, but his position, wealth, and learning
were freely devoted to the service of ^' the truth." It
is not clear that the same earnest evangelising spirit
prevailed in Scotland which inspired the English
Friends. For some reason the society never gained
The Apologist of Quakerism, 95
such numbers nortli of tlie Tweed as it did in England.
Possibly they were too jealous of activity. In a letter
of Christian Barclay's, written after her husband's death,
I find a sad instance of that mischievous overvaluing
of silence, which did so much harm amongst the Quakers
in the eighteenth century. Writing to Friends in and
about Aberdeen, she says, after a warning against '^need-
less jesting," — '^in the bowels of motherly love is my
heart towards you all, desiring we may all travel more
and more into silence, for it is a safe place. Let all our
conversations be more and more in it. Let us all
in whatsoever state or station we be in, remember
ourselves to be in it. As we are gathered in our minds
in it, we shall less and less desire the best of words ; for
inward silence as far exceedeth the best of tvords as the
marrow exceeds the bone!^ Certainly, as she goes on to
say *' the sensible knows beyond expression." Bvit *^ how
forcible are right w^ords ! " The spread of this Quietistic
spirit amongst Friends effectually stopped the evangel-
istic work which marked and glorified the early years
of their society. It also so dwarfed and discouraged
true ministry that the marvel is that the Society sur-
vived.
Barclay's life belongs to the sad list of bright bio-
graphies as it seems to us too soon cut short by death.
He died in his prime, when every year seemed to bring
increased- usefulness and influence for good. He was
but eighteen when he was converted, but nineteen when
he began to preach ; his first controversial work was
written when he was twenty-two, and almost the whole
of his writings were produced during the next nine years,
and yet they fill nine hundred folio pages !
The little band of Scottish Friends contained several
remarkable men, with whom he had close and continued
intercourse. For several years after his conversion,
until 1673, Alexander Jaffray (see pp. 83 & 93)
survived, infii-m in the body, but bright and happy in
96 Robert Barclay ,
soul. His long unrest was ended; lie liad found
amongst the Friends the close walk, the pure life, and
the godly and loving brotherhood that he had long
sought. The only thorns in his dying pillow were
the persecuting spirit of the churches, and the non-
conversion of his beloved wife. She, however, was so
impressed by his death -bed experiences and testimony
that she soon afterwards joined the Society. George
Keith, a graduate of Aberdeen University, was a
zealous advocate of Quakerism by tongue and pen,
doing and suffering with a loving zeal, on which he
looked back with regretful glances after his decline and
perversion. He became a Friend in 1663, and for thirty
years was a pillar amongst the brotherhood. His
treatises on " Immediate Revelation " and on the " Uni-
versal Light, or the Free Grace of God asserted " were
highly valued by Friends. He settled in Pennsylvania ;
but changing his social and religious opinions, he quar-
reled with his brethren and with the authorities there ;
and after an attempt to form a new sect of ^' Christian
Friends," he came to England and joined the established
church. He was put forward as a resolute opponent of
his old allies. But Gough in his History of Friends
gives reasons for believing that he was conscious at the
last that he had declined in grace at this time. To a
Friend who visited him on his dying bed, he is reported
to have said, " I wish I had died when I was a Quaker,
for then I am sure it would have been well with my
soul." John Swintoune, already mentioned, was a
frequent visitor at Ury, at Monthly Meetings and other
special times. Sir Walter Scott claims him as one of his
ancestors. He, like Jaffray, turned from a life of
political activity and honours, to a life of hearty devotion
to Quakerism. He was of very good family, byron of
Swintoune, and at one time one of the Lords of Sessions.
He had been so mixed up with the affairs of the common-
wealth, that at the Restoration he was thrown into
TJiG Apologist of Quakerism, 97
prison, and was in great peril. But in the meantime the
light of divine truth shone into his heart, and when
brought to trial, he w^as more ready to condemn himself
than his judges could be, and only anxious to tell of the
goodness of God to his soul. Bishop Burnet says " He
was then become a Quaker, and did with a sort of
eloquence that moved the whole house, lay out his
own errors, and the ill-spirit he was in, when he did the
things that w^ere charged on him, with so tender a sense,
that he seemed as one indifferent what they should do
with him; and w^ithout so much as moving for mercy,
or even for a delay, he did so effectually prevail on them,
that they recommended him to the king as a fit object
for his mercy." His estates, however, seem not to have
been restored to him, for in 1682 we find Robert Barclay
opening his liberal purse to assist him. We have seen
how useful he was to David Barclay and again to Robert
Barclay at the time of their convincement; for besides
his religious experience, he had, says the Biographia
Brittanica, "as good an education as almost any man in
Scotland, which, gained to very strong natural parts,
rendered him a most accomplished person."
Amongst the pious if not prominent members of the
little church at Aberdeen were Bailie Molleson and his
w^ife. The latter died young, but her death-bed was
surrounded by a halo of glory through her triumphant
faith. Her daughter. Christian, had joined the Friends
in her sixteenth year. She won the favourable regard
and then the warm affection of the young laird of Ury,
and he addressed to her the following religious love-letter.
" Dear Friend, 28th of 1st month, 1669.
Having for some time past had it several times
upon my mind to have saluted thee in this manner of
w^riting, and to enter into a literal correspondence with
thee so far as thy freedom could allow, I am glad that
this small occasion hath made way for the beginning
of it.
98 Robert Barclay,
The love of thy converse, the desire of thy friendship,
the sympathy of thy way, and meekness of thy spirit,
has often, as thou mayst have observed, occasioned me
to take frequent oj)portunity to have the benefit of thy
company ; in which I can truly say I have often been
refreshed, and the life in me touched with a sweet unity
which flowed from the same in thee, tender flames of
pure love have been kindled in my bosom towards thee,
and praises have sprung up in me to the God of our
salvation, for what he hath done for thee ! Many
things in the natural will occur to strengthen and
encourage my aflection toward thee, and make thee
acceptable unto me; but that which is before all and
beyond all is, that I can say in the fear of the Lord that
I have received a charge from him to love thee, and for
that I know his love is much towards thee ; and his
blessing and goodness is and shall be unto thee so long
as thou abidest in a true sense of it."
After speaking of Christian contentment, " from which
there is safety which cannot be hurt, and peace which
cannot be broken," he warns her against the dangers to
which they were both exposed from their easy circum-
stances, and concludes — " I am sure it will be our great
gain so to be kept, that all of us may abide in the pure
love of God, in the sense and drawings whereof we can
only discern and know how to love one another. In the
present flowings thereof I have truly solicited thee,
desiring and expecting that in the same thou mayst feel
juGg . Egbert Barclay."
The reader accustomed to modern Quaker j)hraseology,
will be astonished to find it so purely spoken by so young
a convert at this early date of the Society's history.
But he must remember what is too often overlooked in
studying the writings of the early Friends, that the
Friends simply adopted in many things the religious
phraseology of the times (See Barclay's Inner Life, p.
The A2)olo(/isl of Quakerism. 99
214). But lie cannot fail also to be charmed with the
blending of love and piety in this epistle. Within a
few months of the mother's death, the young couple
were married in the simple Quaker fasliion. This was
the first wedding of the kind in Aberdeen, and it roused
in the minds of many ministers and others much unne-
cessary alarm and irritation. The Bishop of Aberdeen
was stirred up to procure letters summoning Robert
Barclay before the Privy Council for an unlawful mar-
riage ; but, says the Ury record, '' the matter was so
overruled of the Lord that they never had power to put
their summons into execution, so as to do us any pre-
judice."
The conversion of the Barclays to Quakerism seems
to have fenned into a flame the fires of persecution both
amongst Presbyterians and Episcopalians. The Presby-
terians, though sufiering persecution themselves, zeal-
ously preached against the heretics, and were resolute
in excommunicating all who joined them. There is a
sad story of one minister who, against his own conscience,
was being compelled to excommunicate his own daughter,
but fell dead in the pulpit whilst pronouncing the sen-
tence. But the clergy was especially bitter. The Bishop
of Aberdeen, Patrick Scougal, and his primate. Arch-
bishop Sliarpe, were bent on extirpating the sect, and
carried out the system of fine and imprisonment with
the utmost vigour. Scougal (father of Henry Scougal,
professor of Divinity in Aberdeen University, and whose
** Life of God in the soul of man " ranks high amongst
our religious classics) was too good for such dirty work.
Burnet says of him, contrasting them with his scandal-
ous brother bishops : " There was indeed one Scougal,
Bisho]) of Aberdeen, that was a man of rare temj^er,
great piety, and prudence, but I thought he was too
much under Sharpe's conduct, and was at least too easy
to him." Sliarpe was just in his element in the work.
A pervert from Presbyterianism for no other reason than
100 Robert Barclay^
interest, he was a suitable tool for thrusting Episcopacy
on those who hated it. The wanton insults and high-
handed violence which he practiced, roused the bitterest
hatred on the part of the populace, and led to his mur-
der. But from the Quakers he had no violence to fear.
They would only reason, protest, and pray for him ; and
on a coarse sj)irit like his their noble Christian conduct
was thrown away. At last in 1672 the declaration of
indulgence cut the claws of these ^persecutors and gave
their victims relief.
In England the Quakers had a grand service to per-
form for the nation, in bearing the brunt of the fierce
assault made on liberty of conscience. Whilst other dis-
senters temporised and resorted to stratagems to conceal
the fact that they still continued to meet to worship God,
the Quakers openly dared the wrath of the authorities,
and took gladly the penalties of their faithfulness. In
Scotland this faithful service was somewhat varied. In
1662 Episcopacy was established by law, and Presby-
terianism put down. But the Covenanters were not
easily coerced. They took up arms in defence of their
religious liberties. They met to worship God with pis-
tols in their belts, to defend themselves from the troopers
sent to break up their meetings and to arrest their
preachers. The consequences were conflict and blood-
shed. Loyalty to God was confounded with disloyalty
to the crown. The Quakers were not slow to condemn
this mode of asserting the rights of conscience. Besides-
complicating the issue, they deemed it inconsistent with
faith in God, wlio was quite competent to vindicate his
own cause without appeal to the sword. They set the
example of passive endurance of persecution, using only
spiritual and peaceful means in resisting interference
with the conscience. They appealed to the consciences
of their judges ; they petitioned the king's council,
asserting their loyalty to the throne. But whilst these
assertions of loyalty and condemnations of arms won
The Apologist of Quakerism, 101
clemency from tlie Council, they exasperated the Pres-
byterians ; so that in spite of the fact that they had a
common foe to light, they wasted their strength in perse-
cuting their stoutest allies, the Quakers. In 16G1 the
" drunken j^arliament '' had met in Edinbro, and vested
all executive authority in the king; so that the power
of the Council was unlimited. We see, then, the profli-
gate ministers of a dissolute monarch, with Lauderdale
at their head, extending protection to the Quakers whom
they despised and ridiculed ; and checking the rage of
exasperated Covenanters, and the violence of domineer-
ing clergy.
Soon after his marriage, Robert Barclay narrowly
missed a first taste of prison life. The " monthly
meeting " at Aberdeen (the gathering of the local con-
gregations for denominational business, always preceded
by w^orship) was entered by officers sent by the magis-
trates to disjoerse the assembly. They violently dragged
to the Council House all the men who were present.
There the magistrates endeavoured by fair words to
induce them to give up their meeting, and then let them
go. If they had had more experience of Friends they
would have anticipated what followed. In spite of their
recent arrest, the released Friends simply returned to
the meeting, and resumed their w^orship. Soon the
officers *^ appeared again, and with greater fury than
before dragged them back to the Council House, where
the provost and council reprimanded them for contu-
macious resistance of civil authority, using much
threatening language. But Friends were preserved in a
tranquil and innocent boldness, so that * neither the big
words nor yet the barbarous deeds ' of their opponents
could make them flinch from an honest confession of the
true reasons for their conduct." They w^ere all sent to
prison, except Patrick Livingstone, and the young laird
of Ury. To the eager martyr spirit of the latter, this
exemj^tion was quite disappointing. Young as he was,
102 Robert Barclay,
and so recently married, he would gladly have shared
the hardships of his brethren.
Christian Barclay became a minister of the Society of
Friends, but how early we are not told. She was an
admirable wife, and an exemplary mother to her seven
children, all of wliom not only survived their father,
but by a remarkable longevity were alive fifty years
after his death. She was a noted nurse, and the poor
for many miles round sought her advice in sickness.
No doubt she used these occasions like a true medical
missionary to minister to both body and soul. She lived
to be seventy-five years of age, and was greatly lamented,
not only by her numerous descendants, but by the poor
to whom she had been such a friend, and by the
Society to which she belonged, and in whose spiritual
welfare she took a deep and life-long interest.
Kobert Barclay was now fairly settled with his young
wife at Ury under his father's roof. His life seems to
have been one of retirement and scholarly research. The
fathers and theologians engaged his attention, as well as
the study of the Holy Scriptures in the original tongues,
so that when in 1670 he was drawn into controversy,
we find him furnished with a wealth of material with
which to illustrate and enforce his arguments. There
has been found a MS. volume, dated 1670, consisting of
controversial letters addressed by him to one of his
uncles, Charles Gordon, and going over the whole
ground of the Quaker controversy. This correspond-
ence would form a valuable stepping-stone to his future
work. Though his uncle died before the series of letters
was complete, Barclay carried out his plan to the end,
and preserved the letters on both sides as a memorial
of his deceased relative.
The occasion of his first work is fully stated in its
preface. In September, 1666, the Rev. Geo. Meldrum,
of Aberdeen, one of the leading ministers in northern
Scotland, preached a sermon specially attacking the
The Apologist of Quaherism, 103
Quakers, towards whom lie seems to have had a hatred
not quite proportioned to his knowledge of them. He
laid many grievous charges against them, but was sus-
piciously anxious that they should not get a copy of his
discourse. Soon after this, proceedings were instituted
to excommunicate Alexander Jaffray. But his friends
raised the sound objection that no attempt had yet been
made to reclaim him. So the bishop offered to confer
with Jaffray in the presence of Meldrum and his
colleague Menzfes. But Jaffray, suspicious of one who
could attack people in the dark, refused the interview
unless lie could have witnesses. "At length. Friends
being objected to, Jaffray's brother and son who were
not Friends were allowed to be present, when the Lord
remarkably assisted him in declaring the truth, and
defending himself and it against their unjust allega-
tions." One result was that the Bishop directed Mel-
drum to give Friends a copy of the sermon preached
against them, that they might reply to his statements.
But instead of complying, Meldrum sent thirty Queries
to be answered, and a paper entitled, " The state of the
controversy between the Protestants and the Quakers."
Jaffray was ill at the time, but George Keith on his
behalf answered the Queries at once, and some time
afterwards also replied to his paper, and to the sermon,
of which they had at last obtained a copy from one of
the congregation who heard it. No wonder that the
future Aj)ologist questions the honesty of the man who
first condemns, and then makes enquiries, "that he
might know in what things we did differ, and in what
things we only seemed to differ." After giving the
desired information, the Friends w^aited for two years
for some reply, or otherwise for a retraction of the
charges made. But they waited in vain. At last ap-
l^eared a " Dialogue between a Quaker and a stable Chris-
tian," which Barclay ascribed to a William Mitchell, a
neighbouring catechist with whom Patrick Livingstone
104 Robert Barclay,
had had some disputation. Upon him therefore Kobert
Barclay fell with all the energy of honest indignation,
and with all the resources of a fertile and well stored
mind. He entitled his book " Truth cleared of Calum-
nies." Though bearing the marks of a "prentice
hand," many of the qualities of his later style are found
in this production. William Penn says " It is written
with strength and moderation." If the reader is dis-
posed to question the moderation, he must remember
the habits of the age.*
But once launched on the stormy sea of controversy,
there was no more rest for him. W. Mitchell acknow-
ledged the authorship of the " Dialogue," and returned
to the attack in some ** Considerations." This drew
forth in rejoinder " William Mitchell unmasked," pub-
lished 1672. Here we find a more mature style, a
fulness of matter, and an ease and jDower in statement,
that are only excelled in the Apology. Says the writer
in the Biographia Brittanica : " In this work our author
discovers an amazing variety of learning ; which shows
how good a use he made of his time at Paris, and how
thorough a master he was of the scriptures, the fathers,
and ecclesiastical history ; and with how much skill and
judgment he applied them." And a recent writer says
" Poor William Mitchell is not only unmasked but
extinguished."
Some have imagined that Robert Barclay and his
friend William Penn introduced into Quakerism a new,
■^ There is in this work an interesting passage (" Truth Triiimpliant"
pp. 29, 30), in which the view of singing held by the early Friends is
set forth, which will correct some mistaken impressions. Barclay
maintains " that singing is a part of God's worship, and is warrantably
performed amongst the saints, is a thing denied by no Quaker so-called,
and is not unusual among them, whereof I have myself been a witness,
and have felt the sweetness and quickening virtue of the spirit therein,
and at such occasions ministered." But they object to a mixed con-
gregation of believers and unconverted persons singing words which
in the mouths of many must be lies. (See also the Apology, Prop, ii,
paragraph 26, &c.)
Tlie Apologist of Quakerism, 105
more reasonable, and more scholarly tone. But com-
paring the sixteen or eighteen years of Quakerism
before these worthies accepted it, with the subsequent
period when they have been supposed to affect its coun-
sels, effectually disposes of this view. Neither in
doctrine nor in practice is there any material difference.
Quakerism had its scholars before them. Their pre-
eminence w^as rather in popular gifts than in learning,
and in statement and illustration of Quaker views rather
than in their discovery or modification. As regards the
positions of Quakerism that have given offence, Barclay
and other scholarly converts accepted them in toto.
They speak of the " apostacy '' of the churches, and of
Quakerism as the only true church. They speak boldly
of the spiritual gifts of the brethren. They are severe
on "hireling" priests. They argue that justification is
one with sanctification. Most of the important passages
referring to the authority of Holy Scrijpture, Barclay
applies to the light within.
As to practice, nothing has more offended the pro-
prieties of modern life than their imitations of the C3. T.
prophets, exhibiting themselves as signs. There is no
reason to believe that any of the cultured Quakers of
the day disapproved of these things ; rather they rejoiced
in them as part of the manifestation of the restored gifts
of olden times. So far from Robert Barclay being
superior to George Fox in this matter, he afforded one
of the most striking instances on record. This was in
l&l'l, and it happened thus. " On the 24th June, 1672,
on awakening early in the morning, he seemed to see a
great store of coined money that belonged to him lying
upon his table ; but several hands came and scattered it
from him. Presently the scene appeared changed, and
he was 'standino; by a'marish ' filled with a rich vellow
matter, which he went about eagerly to gather in his
grasp, till plunging in over the ancles, he was like to
sink in the bog ; then one came and rescued him. This
106 Robert Barclay,
marsh was tlie world, this matter was the world's goods ;
the whole thing was to him an intimation of love from
the Lord, just as he was beginning more eagerly than
before to concern himself in his outward affairs.'"^
" The journey in sackcloth,'' says Mr. Gordon, " was
the natural sequence of this impression." That it was
" partly a penance of self-expostulation," as he further
declares, we in no wise admit. We must take Barclay's
own word for it that it was simply done in obedience to
a clear conviction of a divine call. " The command of
the Lord concejming this thing came unto me that very
morning as I awoke, and the burden thereof was very
great, yea, seemed almost unsuppor table unto me ; for
such a thing until that very moment had never before
entered me, not in the most remote consideration. And
some whom I called to declare unto them this thing can
bear witness how great was the agony of my spirit, —
how I besought the Lord with tears that this cup might
joass from me ! — yea, how the j)illars of my tabernacle
were shaken, and how exceedingly my bones trembled,
until I freely gave up unto the Lord's will." Truth
Triumphant, p. 105.
The command was to go through three of the princi-
pal streets covered with sackclotli and ashes, calling the
23eople to repentance. They would not listen to the
voice within, nor heed the ordinary warnings of God-
sent preachers. So he felt that in that terrible cross
which God laid on him, He was making a more striking
appeal in pity and love to their souls. He found that
several of his friends approved of his obedience and
were willing to go with him. So he took up his cross,
and as he went on his strange errand, they felt con-
strained to join with him in calling the people to
* From the Bury Hill MSS, quoted in a remarkable article in the
Theolo^G^ical Review of 1871, on " the Great Laird of Urie," by Alex-
ander Gordon, M. A. The name and article suggest some family re-
lationship with the Barclays.
llie Apolo(jid of Quakerism, 107
repentance. No sooner was tlie call obeyed than liis
soul was filled with j^eace. "I have peace with my
God in what I have done, and am satisfied that his
requirings I have answered in this thing." His heart
overflows with love as he takes up his ])en to explain
his procedure, and to plead with them that his appeal
might not be in vain. The address is a remarkable
document, full of most tender pleading and loving re-
monstrance. ^ No true minister of Jesus Christ can read
it without being deeply stirred, and reminded of hours
when his own spirit was clothed with sackcloth and
ashes for those who would not heed his warnings.
Such soul-stirrings as this, coupled with his heart-
felt experience of Scripture truth, must have made
Eobert Barclay an able minister of Jesus Christ. He
seems to have been the teacher rather than the evan-
gelist. Probably he could no more have done George
Fox's work, than George Fox could have done his.
Excellently as he often writes of evangelical truth, we
miss in his pages the arousing, pungent appeals of his
leader. Still at this and other times he seems to have
felt powerful visitations of divine grace. His brethren
also now enjoyed such a gracious season that at one of
the ''monthly meetings," the preliminary worship was
prolonged for seven hours, and the business which
should have received attention afterwards had to wait
until the next month. The evidences of vigorous life
on all hands were most encouraging. For instance, at
one of their gatherings there appeared one John Forbes,
me'rchant of Ellon, to claim their sympathy and advice.
He had adopted the Quaker views of Christian worship,
and consequently had forsaken the kirk. For this he
had been cited before the Presbytery of Ellon. The
Friends warmly sympathised with him, and determined
that Robert Barclay and certain others of their number
should go to Ellon on the next Sabbath and "keep a
meeting" at his house. The crowd that gatherc\l was
108 Robert Barclay,
too great to get indoors, and doors and windows were
therefore thrown open that all might hear and unite in
the worship. From this beginning, the good work went
on regularly every Sunday, until John Forbes had to be
commissioned to look out for some more convenient place
of assembly, one half of the gathering not being able to
gain admittance. We have very little information of the
part which Robert Barclay took in these Christian ser-
vices. He kept a diary, but it seems to have been lost.'''
The letters of his which have been preserved are few.
The most vivid and life-like impressions of the man that
remain are contained in his books. These with true
Quaker appreciation of the value of facts, contain many
autobiographical passages, and references to his experi-
ence. To him, as to all Friends, experience was the
great matter. They waited on God for clear and living
views of his truth. They recognised it not by logic, but
by their trained spiritual instincts. Naturally, therefore,
when addressing others by tongue or pen, they preferred
to be experimental rather than argumentative. But the
habits of the age compelled them to be dialecticians.
They could only gain a hearing by so far yielding to
the popular taste. But with amusing truthfulness, Wil-
liam Penn says of Barclay that he adopted the schol-
astic style in his Apology in condescension to the weak-
ness of literary men.
But to him this adaptation was easier than to many
Friends. He was a scholar and man of letters by habit
and instinct. It Avas a necessity of his nature that .he
should see clearly the whole scope and logical inferences
of his i^rincijDles. His intellectual fearlessness is won-
derful. His learning was not idle lumber in his mind.
It bore some important relation, either of agreement or
of antagonism, to his views, and to the arguments of his
assailants. It was either light in which he could rejoice,
* Is this amonj^st the Bury Hill MSS.? The extract quoted from
the Theological Review looks like a passage from it.
The Apologist of Quakerism. 109
or shadow wliicli revealed some obstruction to the light,
and threw out the light into bolder contrast. So learn-
ins: had to him a real use and value: it was not counters
but coins and the world of books was to him a very real
world.
The progress of Quakerism in the neighborhood of
Aberdeen, filled the hearts of many with malice that
would stoop to any meanness, and carry out any in-
iquity. They actually demolished the walls of the
Friends' burying-ground, and removed the dead bodies
elsewhere ; and after some subsequent interments, they
kept up the practice, until stopped by the king's Council.
But it was not in Aberdeen but at Montrose that
Kobert Barclay first suffered imprisonment for con-
science sake. It happened thus. Most of the Quakers
at Kinnaber near Montrose, after being in prison for
two months for the high crime of meeting together to
worshij) God, had been released by the king's Council
at the instance of John Swintoune. That gentleman
and Bobert Barclay symjDathisingly determined to join
them in their first public service, and did so. As the
company was dispersing, the constables arrived, and ar-
rested William Napier, at whose house the meeting was
held, and carried him before the magistrates. Swin-
toune and Barclay went with him, and insisted on seeing
the magistrates, and reasoning with them. On this they
too were committed to j^rison, the ground alleged being
that they had been j^resent at the meeting. But they
do not seem to have been many days in prison before
the king's Council again interfered and liberated them.
Whilst in prison they addressed a spirited remonstrance
to the magistrates, boldly and vigorously telling them
the unvarnished truth about their conduct, and aj)peal-
ing to them to act more righteously in future. Thus
they were not behind their English brethren in the
vigour with wdiich they fought the battle of religious
liberty.
110 Robert Barclay,
In 1673 died Alexander Jaffray, whose valuable diary
gives us such an interesting picture of the religious life
of his time. The editor of it, John Barclay of Croy-
don, the laborious editor of many standard Quaker jour-
nals, found it in two parts, whilst ransacking Ury for
remains of his distinguished ancestor. He published
with it a sketch of the early history of Friends in Scot-
land, especially enriched with the substance of the min-
utes of the Ury meeting. Much valuable information
was added in copious notes, the whole forming a pre-
cious memorial of a period of eminent spirituality and
remarkable faithfulness to conscience. Jaffray's death-
bed was visited by many who rejoiced in the remarkable
experiences and testimony he furnished. We may be
sure that the Apologist was amongst the number.
In the same year, 1673, was published Barclay's
well-known Quaker Catechism. Part of its quaint title
richly deserves quoting. He calls it a " Catechism and
confession of faith, approved of and agreed unto by the
General Assembly of the Patriarchs, Prophets and
Apostles, Christ himself chief speaker in and among
them." Thus he steals a march on the Assembly's
Catechism on the very title-page. The object of the
little book was to meet the allegation that the Quakers
vilified and denied the Scriptures, by asserting their
whole creed in the language of the Scriptures. The
-answers to the successive questions therefore are pass-
ages of Scripture without note or comment. The work
is deftly done, and the Catechism has had a very large
circulation.
In the next year, 1674, we find him attending the
Friends' Yearly Meeting in London, then newly estab-
lished, and taking j)ai't in a visit of remonstrance to the
notorious Ludovico Muggleton. The only account of
the interview occurs in tlie journal of John Gratton, the
ancestor of John Bright, who was one of the party. It
is interesting chiefly as indicating the hopefulness with
Tlie Apologist of Quakerism, 111
wliicli tlie early Friends J:rie(l to do good unto all men.
Their patience must have been sorely tried by the ridicu-
lous answers of the pretended prophet, whom they
entrapped and exposed several times in their short inter-
view/^ Yet this is the man whom Macaulay represents
as morally and intellectually the equal of George Fox.
The magistrates and clergy of Aberdeen continued
specially bitter against Friends. Their preachers were
imprisoned, their names published as rebels, and their
goods declared forfeit to the Crow^n. Their meetings
were disturbed with impunity by the rabble, and especi-
ally by the students of the University. This led, in
February 1675, to a public dispute between some of
them and Robert Barclay and George Keith. Persist-
ing in his attempt to correct the false representations of
Quakerism made by the clergy, Barclay had put forth
his famous Theses Theologicse, which played almost as
important a part in the history of Quakerism as Luther's
did in the Beformation. At the end of the paper he
offered to defend these Theses against those who had so
grossly misrepresented the teachings of Friends. The
clergy, however, were not willing to meet him, but they
allowed certain divinity students to accept the challenge.
These young men did not regard the matter in a very
serious light; it was a good joke, an opportunity to air
their logic and to badger the Quakers. If other measures
failed, they could rely on the mob taking their part with
coarse jests, such as the cry, " Is the Spirit come yet? "
Or if this treatment seemed too mild for the humour of
the moment, their allies were just as ready to break tlK3
heads of the Quakers with sticks and stones. If the
reader has any doubts about this description of the
temper of the times, let him first read Leighton's Life,
and see there the character of the ministers whom his
* William Penn had exposed him two j-ears before in a pamplilet
entitled, "The New Witnesses proved Old Heretics." HoweN'cr he
still gained converts.
112 Robert Barclay y
friends had to call in to fill up the pulpits of the ejected
Presbyterians. Then after tins preparation, let him read
the Quaker journals of the time.
This disputation ended in uproar, the students claim-
ing the victory of course. But the spoils were taken
by the Friends in a manner little expected by the
clergy. Four students, who were present at the debate,
were so impressed by the arguments and christian spirit
of Barclay and Keith, that tliey joined the Friends, and
bore public testimony against the unfairness with which
the debate was conducted. Here was a spiritual triumph
indeed, to win trophies amidst such clamour and strife.
The dispute was not allowed to rest. The students
published an account of the transaction, under the title,
'' Quakerism canvassed." Barclay and Keith declared
the report unfair, and published theirs in self-defence.
They further replied to the students in "Quakerism con-
firmed." Here was a field of controversy where num-
bers and noise were of no avail. But the termination
was indeed singular. The students found that their
pamphlet would not sell, and that so they were likely
to be heavy losers. What was to be done ? They peti-
tioned the Commissioners for help. A little while before
some of David Barclay's cattle had been seized to pay
fines imposed for his attending meetings. These cattle
could not be sold, so strongly did the jieople sympathise
Avith the old soldier. So at last, through Archbishop
Sharpens influence, they were handed over to the stu-
dents to recoup their losses !
* The Theses were destined to higher honours than this
farce. Dr. Nicolas Arnold, Professor of Divinity at a
Dutch University, replied to them, and Barclay issued
his rejoinder in Latin at Rotterdam, in 1675. Still
following up the lines of thought thus opened out, the
Theses were next ex2:)anded into the famous Apology,
published in Latin in Amsterdam, 1676.
The years 1675 and 1676 were remarkable for a
The Apologist of Quakerism, 113
blessed quickening of spiritual life in Aberdeen meeting.
It made the Friends wlio were cast into prison rejoice
in their bonds. It made both them and English Friends
believe that the time had come when God would do
great things for Scotland.*
* The following extracts show forth these facts and hopes with great
clearness:
Geori^o Fox writes from Swarthmore, 10th of 10th month, 1675, a long
letter \o Kobert Barclay, but evidently intended as a circular letter to
Friends in 8(U)tland. Its opening has been quoted already, pp. 84, 85.
It is rich in its glowing and powerful statement of Gospel truth. After
relating the vision of the condition and future blessedness of Scotland,
he states how he was taken before the Council in Edinburgh and
banished the nation, " but T staid three weeks after, and came to Edin-
burgh and had meetings all up and down." He sets forth in quaint
scripture metaphors the hopes of the spiritual life which he was raised
up to preach. **With the spiritual eye the virgins will see to trim
their heavenly lamps, and see their heavenly olive-tree from which
they have their heavenly oil, that their lamps might burn continually
night and day and never go out. So that they may see the way and
enter into the heavenly Bridegroom's chamber, which is above the
chambers of death and iniaginery." "And soe away with that chaf
that would not have perfection here, for he that is perfect is risen, and
that (which) is perfect is revealed." "It is the spirit of truth that
leads into all truth. And they that are not led by this spirit as Christ
hath sent and sends, they are led by the spirit of the false prophet,
beast, whore. Though in that spirit they may profess the scriptures
from Genesis to the Revelations, that spirit shall lead them into the
ditch together, where they shall be consumed b}'' God's eternal fire
without the heavenly Jerusalem, as all the filth was consumed by fire
without the gates of the outward heavenly Jerusalem."
"And now^, Kobert, concerning the things thou speaks of about thy
books. I say it is well that they are sent. Keep within the rules of
the spirit of Life which will lead into all truth, that all may be stirred
up in your nation to walk in it, for they have been a long time asleep.
For the Gospel bell does ring and sound to awaken them out of sin
to righteousness. So all that have the instrument to work in God's
vineyard be not idle, but be diligent that you may have your penny.
For God's gospel trumpet is blown,- and his alarum is sounding in his
holy mountain. That makes that mind and spirit that inhabits the
earth to tremble, and that they must all doe, before they inhabit and
inherit eternity."
The language here may be quaint and the figures sometimes strained;
but the spiritual truth is clearly seen and vigorously put, and Barclay
would readily recognise its fitness to the times.
David Barclay writes to his son from Aberdeen prison on 12th
of 8rd mo., 1676, in a strain of mingled trust and resignation. He
writes, " we are all in health, and refreshed daily by the Lord's power-
fully appearing in and amongst us, and in a wonderful and unexpected
114 Robert Bar clay y
This year (1676) seems to have been a remarkably
busy one. Indeed so well was Barclay's time filled up
during his short life, that one biographer most appropri-
ately speaks of him as " posting '' through the business
of his life. He might almost have foreseen tlie early
close of his career, so diligently did he redeem the time.
The labours of this year included the publication of his
treatise on Christian discipline entitled " The Anarchy
of the Ranters," a visit to the continent, the publication
of the Apology, and probably the preparation of ma-
terials for a projected history of the Christian Church.
See Jafifray, p. 571.
The full title of the first-named book was, "The
Anarchy of the Ranters and other libertines, the Hier-
archy of the Romanists and other pretended churches,
equally refused and refuted." Its object was to defend
the system of discipline which the Friends had estab-
lished under Fox's leadership. This system was im-
pugned by some members as an infringement of gospel
liberty. Those who were led by the Spirit, they argued,
needed no rules or discipline to guide them aright, and
must not have their liberty interfered with by man-made
way visiting us by his overcoming love to the gladdening of our hearts
and making ns not only to believe but to suffer for His name's sake;
living praises ! "
George Keith writes to Robert Barclay, also from the Aberdeen
Tolbooth, " V^^e have exceeding sweet and comfortable meetings most
frequently, wherein the power of the Lord doth mightily appear in
the midst of us, so that Friends generally are greatly encouraged to
the astonishing and confounding of our adversaries. ... I am
busy answering H. More's papers* unto me, and have near finished
my answers which I hope ere long to send unto her that is called the
Lady Conway, f or else bring them myself if the persecution that is at
present cease hereaway, and that I find freedom to visit Friends in
England this summer. But if the Lord open a door in this country for
the receiving of the truth among people {as it is like to be, and of which we
have some good expectation, the power of the Lord ploriously appea/ring
among us, which is preparing us for some great service) I verily believe
this may be ane occasion to stay me for some time."
* See sketch of Penn, p. 54.
t From a letter of Barclay's to the Princess Elizabeth, it appears
that Lady Conway in many things adopted the Quaker customs.
Tlie Apologist of Quakerism, 115
rules. The leader of tliis party was Wm. Kogers, a
Bristol merchant. But Jiis opi)Osition was not known
to Kobert Barclay at the time of the publication of his
treatise, though his arguments so fully anticipated their
objections, that Rogers and his friends considered the
book an attack on them. Feeling ran high, and Barclay
was s})oken of as popishly affected, if not a Papist. Yet
with wonderful meekness and humility, he agreed to
meet William Kogers in the presence of some trusty
Friends that the offence so taken might be removed.
But though the meeting resulted in Rogers acknowledg-
ing his fault, the perfect harmony of the Society was
not secured by it, and he and his captious friends ulti-
mately separated from the Society.
The treatise on Church Government is one of the
best of Barclay's productions, and has been very useful,
both in establishing Friends in the right development
of their principles, and in enlightening other Christians
as to the views they hold. One fact in connection with
its publication is in perfect accord with its arguments.
Three years before, there had been established in London
a standing committee of the Quaker Society, called the
Morning Meeting. One of its objects was to examine
all writings issued by the brethren in which questions
of Christian truth Avere discussed, so as to stamp with its
approval such as were in accordance with their princi-
ples, and to disavow such as were otherwise. The
necessity for such action was evident, from the fact that
much annoyance and damage had been sustained by
Friends, from the Society being held responsible for
books written by those who were not members. Hence-
forth no book was to be considered an expression of the
views of the Societv, unless it had secured tJie sanction
of the Committee. The " Anarchy of the Ranters " was
therefore duly submitted to their scrutiny, and not only
received their sanction then, but was for at least a cen-
tury, published largely by the Society as an authorised
IIG Robert Barclay^
statement of their views on Church discipline. Later
the Yearly Meeting gave it a second title, ". A Treatise
on Christian Discipline." But they also struck out a
passage of special interest in these times, showing how
the strong reason of Barclay was logically forced along
the line of Free-Church manship not only to Disestab-
lishment but to Disendowment. It runs thus : " The
only way then soundly to reform and remove all these
abuses (i.e. those following the connection of the Church
with the State) is to take away all stinted and forced
maintenance and stipends, and seeing those things were
anciently given by the people, that they return again to
the public treasury, and thereby the people may be greatly
benefitted by them, for that they may sup'ply for those
'public taxations and impositions that are put upon them,
and ease themselves of tliemT "^^
After attending the Yearly Meeting in London,
Robert Barclay went on a mission to the Continent.
Of this visit, unfortunately, Ave have no record. Prob-
ably, one object for which he made it was to see to the
publication of his Apology in Amsterdam. But one
incident of the journey is full of interest. He visited
Elizabeth, Princess Palatine of the Bhine, .grand-
daughter of James I. and aunt of George I. ; an accom-
plished lady and a most exemplary ruler. She was not
only a distant relative of his (his mother and she were
third cousins), but she also attracted him by her spirit-
ual-mindedness. She had appreciated all that was best
in the teachings of De Labadie, a Jesuit who turned
Protestant, and by his preaching led many to seek after
spiritual religion, and a simple, self-denying life.f So
^Bnrclay's '' Inner Life," p. 549. Tliis sentence is first omitted in
the edition of 1765, and has been lost from the work since !
fThe following note concerning De Labadie, by Whittier, the
American poet, may interest the reader. " John De Labadie, a Ro-
man Catholic priest converted to Protestantism, enthusiastic, eloquent,
and evidently sincere in his special calling and election to separate
the true ami living members from the Church of Christ from the for-
The Apologist of Quakerism, 117
in afterwards stating the reasons for a subsequent visit,
William Penn says, " Secondly, that they (the Princess
and her friends) are actually lovers and favourers of
those that separate themselves from the world for the
sake of righteousness. For the Princess is not only a
])rivate supporter of such, but gave protection to De
Labadie himself and his company, yea wdien they went
under the reproachful name of Quakers, about seven
years since.""^'
Barclay's visit bore fruit beyond what he possibly
could have foreseen. The Princess learnt heartily to
esteem and love the brotherhood, welcomed the visits of
its ministers, and used her influence at the English
court for their relief from harassing persecution. From
this time until her death she kept up a correspondence
with Pobert Barclay, which is included in the j^i'inted
but not jDublished Keliquse Barclaianse.
It would seem that this visit also afforded the oppor-
tunity for conversation with one Herr Adrian Pacts,
malism and hypocrisy of the ruling sects. George Keith and Robert
Barchiy visited him at Amsterdam, and afterwards at the Communities
of Herford (the Princess EHzabeth's home) and Wieward ; and accord-
ing to Gerard Croese, found him so near to them on some points, that
they offered to take him into the Society of Friends. This ofl'er, if it
was really made, which is certainly doubtful, was, happily for the
Friends at least, declined. Invited to Herford, in V^^estphalia, by
Elizabeth, daughter of the Elector Palatine, De Labadie and his fol-
lowers preached incessantly, and succeeded in arousing a wil<l
enthusiasm among thejjeople, who neglected their business, and gave
way to excitements and strange practices. Men and women, it was
said, at the Communion drank and danced together, and private mar-
riages or spiritual unions were formed. Labadie died in 1674, at
Altona, in Denmark, maintaining his testimonies to the last. 'Nothing
remains forme,' he said, 'except to go to my God. Death is merely
ascending from a lower and narrower chamber to one higher and
holier.'"
■^He goes on to say, writing in 1677, "About a year since, Robert
Barclay and Benjamin Furly took that city in the way from Frederick-
stadt to Amsterdam, and gave them a visit; in which they informed
them somewhat of Friends' principles, and recommended the Testi-
mony of Truth to them as both a nearer and more certain thing than
the utmost of De Labadie's doctrine. Thev left them tender and
loving." Travels in Holland, Penn's Select Works, p. 453.
118 Robert Barclay,
Dutch Ambassador to tlie court of Spain, which led to
the j)roduction of one of Barclay's minor works. The
subject of their converse was the very soul of Quakerism,
the inward and immediate revelations of the Holy Spirit.
Pacts stated his objections, and wished Barclay to re-
consider the whole question. The Apologist did this,
and was more than ever satisfied with his own position.
Accordingly he wrote to Herr Pacts a long letter in
Latin full of subtle reasonings in his very best style, re-
j)lying to the objections urged. Pacts promised an
answer to the letter but never sent it. However, when
he met Barclay in London some years after, he
acknowledged that he had been mistaken in his notions
of the Quakers, for he found they could make a reason-
able plea for the foundation of their religion. Barclay
afterwards translated his letter into English, and pub-
lished it.
This was a kind of service in which he was quite at
home, and in his quiet northern home doubtless it kept
him constantly employed. His English friends had not
the leisure necessary to do the work in the thorough
style in which he performed it. How diligently he
laboured m this field, the facts already stated attest.
But the grandest fruit of his genius is undoubtedly
his Apology. The address to the king is dated Nov.
2oth, 1675 ; the Latin edition is dated Amsterdam, 1676.
He was therefore only twenty-seven years of age when
his masterpiece was completed ; and as it was first pub-
lished, so it stands to-day, unaltered. His genius
matured early, though to the great perplexity of our
human judgment, early maturity was followed by early
death. For three or four years, his English brethren
had been struggling with an unusually strong tide of
misrepresentation and obloquy. He could not be a
passive looker-on now that God had given him rest from
persecution. He would endeavour to state the opinions
of his brethren, and the rationale of them, with a
The Apologist of Quakerism, 119
fulness for which they had neither time nor opportunity.
It w<is a brotherly and chivalrous feeling, and it had its
own reward. The work was at once accepted as a
standard exposition of Quakerism. It has been pro-
fusely eulogised by many who have not accepted the
creed it defends. Even Voltaire has warmly praised
its pure Latiuity. He called it "the finest Church
Latin that he knew." Sir James Mackintosh in his
"Revolution in England, '^ calls it "a masterpiece of
ingenious reasoning, and a model of argumentative
com]>osition, which extorted praise from Bayle, one of
the most acute and least fanatical of men." The writer
in the " Theological Review," from whom we have
already quoted, is enthusiastic in his admiration of it.
After speaking of Rutherford's " Letters," and Scougal's
" Life of God in the Soul of Man," he proceeds, "Greater,
where they were greatest, than Rutherford or Scougal,
was Robert Barclay ; it is a country's loss that his
splendid Apologia should be left in the hands of a sect.
Here, indeed, is a genuine outcome of the inner depth
of the nation's worship ; something characteristic and
her own ; a gift to her religious life akin to her pro-
foundest requirements; and if she did but know it, far
worthier of the acceptance of her people than any reli-
gious aid which she has ever welcomed from the other
side of the border ; more satisfying to the intellect than
the close scholastic conclusions of the English divines
at Westminster ; more full of melody to the soul than
even the rude music of those ballad psalms which the
Kirk had not been too proud to adapt from the version
of the Cornish statesman. One great original theologian,
and only one, has Scotland produced ; he it is the his-
tory of whose life and mind we shall endeavour to
approach in the present Article." TheoL Review, 1874,
p. 528.
We must not leave the Apology without referring to
its manly and honest preface. It lias been praised as
120 Robert Barclay^
heartily as tlie book itself. In an age of fulsome flat-
tery, it is unique in its appeal to the better nature of
King Charles, whom the writer begs not to despise the
singular mercies which God had shown him. On Bar-
clay's return to London from Holland, he probably
presented a copy to the king ; and it is to the credit of
that monarch that, far from taking offence at the plain
speaking of his Quaker kinsman, we find him ever after
showing him special favour. Penn and Barclay seem
alike to have possessed the power of drawing out the
best side of the characters of Charles II. and his brother
James II This fact must be borne in mind in consid-
ering the charges laid against the former because of in-
timate relations with the Court.
From the Continent, Barclay returned to London,
where he heard that his father and other of his Aber-
deen friends had been thrown into prison for " holding
conventicles." He immediately began to devise measures
for their release. He had a letter from the Princess
Elizabeth to her brother Prince Rupert. He presented
this, met of course with a civil reception, and took the
opportunity to obtain the Prince's concurrence with a
petition which he was presentmg to the king. He also
wrote to the Princess to support his application, and
til en presented his petition. His plea is that a difference
should be made between the peaceable and loyal Quakers,
and those asrainst whom the laws w^ere directed. Un-
fortunately Prince Kupert was indisposed, and unable
to keep his promise. So as the petition was vigorously
opposed, his memorial was passed on to the Scotch Privy
Council, with such a cool endorsement that it took no
effect.
It was on this errand that he first sou2:ht the Duke
of York, afterwards James II. He himself has told the
story in his *' Vindication." " Being at London and
employed by my friends to obtain a liberty for them out
of their imprisonment at Aberdeen for the single exer-
The Apologist of Qaaherism, 121
cise of their conscience, and not being able to gain any
ground u})on the Duke of Lauderdale, in whose hands
was the sole inana^-ement of Scots affairs at that time, I
was advised by a Friend to try the Duke of York, who
was said to be the only man whom Lauderdale Avould
bear to meddle in his province, or who was like to do it
with success. And having found means of access to him,
I found him inclined to interpose in it, he having then
and always since to me professed himself to be for liberty
of conscience. And though not for several years, yet at
last his interposing proved very helpful in that matter."
The reply of the Princess Palatine to Robert Barclay's
request, is interesting as a specimen of the religious cor-
respondence of these illustrious friends. She says,
" Your memory is dear to me, so are your lines and
exhortations very necessary. I confess also myself
spiritually very poor and naked ; all my happiness is, I
do know I am so, and whatever I have studied or learnt
heretofore is but dirt in comparison with the true knowl-
edge of Christ. I confess my infidelity to this Life here-
tofore, by suffering myself to be conducted by false,
politic lights. Now that I have sometimes a small
glimpse of the true Light, I do not attend it as I should,
being drawn away by the works of my calling, which
must be done ; and as your swift English hounds I often
overrun my scent, being called back when it is too late."
In his reply, Barclay tells of the non-success of his
efforts to obtain the release of his friends, and yet adds
with calm heroism, " I this day take my journey towards
them, not doubting but I shall also shore their joys."
Nor was he mistaken. Soon after reaching Aberdeen,
he was arrested and placed in the Tolbooth. This gaol
was divided into two parts, the lower, which was vile,
the upper, which was worse. Robert Barclay was al-
lowed a place in the lower prison, but those who were
arrested with him were thrust into the upper prison.
Here shortly afterwards they were joined by David Bar-
122 Robert Barclay,
clay, who had been released only to fall again into the
clutches of the enemy.
Th enews of Robert Barclay's commitment to prison
reached his royal friend Elizabeth the next month
(Dec. 1676). She at once wrote to console him. ^' I
am sure that the captivers are more captive than you
are, being in the company of him that admits no bonds,
and is able to break all bonds." She also wrote at once
to her brother Prince Rupert to use his influence with
the king on his behalf.
Her letter put the case plainly and well. " T wrote
you some months ago by Robert Barclay who passed
this way, and hearing I was your sister, desired to speak
with me. I knew him to be a Quaker by his hat, and
took occasion to inform myself of all their opinions ;
and finding they were accustomed to submit to magis-
trates in real things, omitting the ceremonial, I wished
in my heart the King might have many such subjects.
And since I have heard that notwithstanding his Ma-
jesty's most gracious letters in his behalf to the Council
of Scotland, he has been clapped up in prison with the
rest of his friends, and they threaten to hang them, at
least those they call preachers among them, unless they
subscribe their own banishment ; and this upon a law
made against other sects that appeared armed for the
maintenance of their heresy; which goes directly against
the principles of those which are ready to suficr all that
can be inflicted, and still love and pray for their enemies.
Therefore, dear brother, if you can do anything to pre-
vent their destruction, I doubt not but you will do an
action acceptable to God Almighty, and conducive to
the service of your royal master. For the Presbyterians
are their violent enemies, to whom they are an eyesore,
as being witnesses against all their violent ways. I care
not though his Majesty see my letter. It is written out
of no less an humble affection for him, than most
sensible comjDassion for the innocent sufferers."
The Ajjolof/ldt of Quakerism, 123
Besides writ i no; tliis letter she agreed to use her influ-
ence with Lady Lauderthde, and to get her brother to
do his best witli the Earl, but she explains she has
little exj)eetatiun of success as they are no friends of
theirs.
This letter and other influences led to a royal recom-
mendation to the King's Council in Edinbro', but some
interval elapsed before it bore fruit. Meanwhile, the
father and son had been removed to a gaol outside the
town, called the Chapel. Their treatment here was
malicious enough, but mild in comparison with what
many of their brethren suffered ; and though they pro-
tested, as became Britons and Quakers, no doubt they
thanked God for the comparative ease of tlieir lot.
Whilst in prison they received many letters of sympathy
from their friends. Amongst these is a little known
letter from William Penn, hoping that they ** may grow
spiritual soldiers, expert and fitted by tliese exercises
for such spiritual conflicts as the Lord hath for you to
go through ;" and that they may grow " as trees in winter,
downwards, that your root may spread ; so shall you
stand in all storms and tempests."
One of the excuses for ill-using the Friends was that
they were Popishly aflected. This must have galled
Robert Barclay's sensitive nature exceedingly. His
growing friendship with the King and the suspected
Duke of York gave colour to the charge, and his train-
ing in a Catholic college, his former profession of the
Catholic faith, and his near kinship to many Catholics,
were taunts ready to the hand of disputants like the
Aberdeen students or the scurrilous John Brown.
From the " Chapel," Barclay wrote a strong appeal
to Archbishop Sharpe to abandon his unchristian ])er-
secutions. Does the reader think this is like asking
Shyloek to renounce his pound of flesh? He nuist
remember that the Quakers v;ere accustomed to accom-
plish such impossibilities ; and where their hardy faith
124 Robert Barclay^
could not succeed in such feats, it could persevere in
attempting them. Their love was as invincible as their
patience. They sincerely pitied their persecutors, and
felt that they were harming themselves more than they
hurt the Friends. So for their soul's sake they pleaded
with them, using every argument which they thouglit
they could ask God to bless. Whilst in Aberdeen
prison, Barclay also wrote his treatise on "Universal
Love/' an earnest plea for religious toleration.
The prisoners gained their liberty by an amusing dis-
agreement between the Aberdeen Magistrates and the
Sheriff, which led to a lawsuit. Meanwhile, Kobert
Barclay and others who had been liberated on parole,
went before a notary and claimed their full liberty.
We now find Robert Barclay attending the Yearly
Meeting in London, and then going on to the Continent
in company with George Fox and William Penn. Their
object was two-fold, aggression and organisation. The
Mennonite churches of the Netherlands and Germany
were the special attraction. William Caton, at one time
tutor at Swarthmoor Hall, had settled in Holland, and
had met with a cordial welcome amongst these churches.
William Ames and other Friends also visited them,
and by degrees the Quakers had become very strong in
Holland. William Penn had visited them before. We
may here remark that the Friends have ever kept up a
kindly and brotherly intercourse with the Mennonites
whether in Germany, Bussia, or the United States, vis-
iting them for fraternal encouragement, and helping
them in times of famine and persecution.
Considering that both of Barclay's companions kept
diaries which have since been published, it is remarka-
ble how little we learn of him from their records. Penn's
narrative is a rich spiritual treat, but would have been
richer had it been his purpose to tell of the private as
well as of the public transactions of the " three great
apostles of the sect," as Hepworth Dixon calls them.
The Apologist of Quakerism, 125
What glorious times of spiritual communion they must
have luid. With strongly marked individuality, there
was yet a genuine bond of union and true sympathy
between them. Fox, the senior by twenty years, was
strongest in acquaintance with the facts about tlie state
of the Society. His faulty English might at times jar
on the ears of his scholarly brethren, but that was less
offensive to them than the impure spiritual dialects of
many professed Christians. His strong and many-
sided nature enabled him to meet Penn in his large
l^hihmtliropic schemes, and to sympathise with Barclay
in his scholarly labours. If already his frame was feel-
ino; the effects of much sufferino; whilst his brethren
were in their prime, his soul knew no decay. Penn
might be the strongest of the three on the point of
leavening earthly institutions with heavenly aims. Bar-
clay's surpassing intellectual gifts might forbid any man
to despise his youth. But in deep spiritual life they
were equals. What mighty wrestlings must have been
theirs as they talked of the spiritual needs of the world!
How they must have exulted in the progress of spiritual
truth ! Their own Society at the time probably num-
Ibered at least 50,000 members. There were many not
of their community with whom they held sweet inter-
course through a common enjoyment of spiritual re-
ligion. Their faith was unfaltering that a new era had
dawned upon the Christian church, which was about to
renew its youth, and repeat the glorious triumphs of its
early days.
After successfully organising in Plolland the same
system of church government which had been set up in
England, they visited Herford, the court of the Prin-
cess Elizabeth. Barclay had written to her from Aber-
deen prison, strongly urging her, since she felt the power
and blessing of silent waiting on God, to trust that, and
especially to dismiss her "hireling" chaplain with his
" unallowable services." In reply she had pleaded that
126 Robert Barclay^
the way was not yet plain to her ; she must wait for
light. If only her faith were strengthened what might
she not do ? But the result did not answer Barclay's
expectation. They had, indeed, times of great spiritual
refreshment, and the right hand of the Lord was re-
vealed, but the Princess was not won to silent worship,
nor to renounce the ordinary modes of worship. How-
ever Barclay urges and pleads with her, her reply still
is *' I must go by my light.'' *' I cannot submit to the
opinions or practice of others, though they have more
light than myself.""^
At Herford, Barclay left his friends and returned to
Amsterdam. In September we find him in London,
using his influence with the Duke of York to procure
liberty for Friends in Scotland. He only succeeded,
however, so far as his father and himself were concerned.
When he wrote the result to his friend the Princess, and
after shewing the dangers that awaited him, told her
he was returning to Scotland, she was astonished, and
warmly remonstrated with him for taking such a course.
Robert Barclay had expressed sorrow at her non-suc-
cess. She tells him that it is no cross to her that Lady
Lauderdale returns no other answer to her request than-
a mere court compliment, and proceeds: — "But it is a
cross to me that you will not make use of the liberty
which God miraculously gave you, but will return into
Scotland to be clapt up again into prison, for which we
have neither precept nor example." But to stop in the
path of duty because there were dangers ahead, would
have been a failure of obedience which would have
plunged Barclay's soul into darkness and distress. He
must go forward and leave the consequences to God.
The persecution of the Aberdeen Friends continued
unabated until 1679. In the spring of that year Arch-
* Not that Barclay aimed at proselytising, but he wished her to take
the course which seemed to him the necessary outcome of her views.
"I pretend to be no sect master," he writes, " and disgust all such."
The Apologist of Quakerism. 127
biisliop Sliarpe, the cliief instigator of it, was assassinated,
and Lauderdale removed from offiee ; and immediately
came a lull in the storm. In November, Robert Barclay
and some others were indeed thrown into prison, but
they were released in a few hours. The favour of the
Council towards Friends in general, and especially the
interest at court of Robert Barclay, were too strong for
the persecutors, and they capitulated. Locally the hard
fought fight was won.
The royal favour was still more distinctly shown to
Robert Barclay when, in the same year, the Ury estate
was, by royal charter dated 14th August, erected into a
barony, with civil and criminal jurisdiction to himself
and his heirs forever. This w^as about the time when
James was made Lord High Commissioner, and being
jealous of the influence of Monmouth, was nursing his
Scotch popularity. In the act of parliament (1685)
confirming the charter, it is said to be granted " for the
many services done by Colonel David Barclay and his
son the said Robert Barclay to the king and his most
royal progenitors in times past." It was swept away,
with all kindred privileges, Avhen George II. remodelled
the government of Scotland. But the Court Book is
still in existence to bear testimony to his conscientious
administration of justice.
In this year he also paid another visit to Holland,
but was unable to visit his royal correspondent the
Princess Elizabeth at Herford. However he wrote
her w^hat proved to be a final letter, dated Rotterdam,
Bth of the 5th month, 1679. In this characteristically
sensitive but affectionately faithful epistle, he says, " Thou
may think strange that after so long a silence I should
now apply myself to answ^er thy last (which came to my
hands at a time when I was under great bodily w^eak-
ness) for which I will not trouble thee with any further
Apologie than to assure thee that no want of respect or
regard to thee, but ane unwillingness to work in mine
128 Robert Barclay y
own will, and a fear in so doing rather to hurt than help
thee, hath hindered me until now. Had I given way to
my own inclinations, and to the course of that love,
which, without flattery I can say I have for thee, so as
to have exprest but the hundred part of that concern
which frequently possessed me on thy account, I had
overcharged thee with my letters. But knowing it is
not the will of man that bringeth about the work of God,
I choosed rather to be silent than forward. But being
through a singular occasion come to this country, and
not having access to make thee a visit, I found a true
liberty from the Lord in my spirit thus to salute thee."
From what follows it seems that either the Princess
misunderstood his anxious solicitude for her, or he
thought she did. His apology for his urgency is touch-
ing. He concludes ; " For herein I have peace before
God, that I never sought to gather thee nor others to
myself, but to the Lord. I 23retend to be no sect master,
and disgust all such. My labour is only as an ambassa-
dour to instruct all to be reconciled to God, and desire no
more than to be manifest in the consciences of those to
whom I come that I am such, by the answer of that of
God there, to which therefore in my conscience I recom-
mend my testimony." In not seeing the Princess on
this visit he missed his last opportunity, for she died the
following year. Penn has paid a tribute to her memory
in " No Cross, No Crown," in which he says, '^ I must
needs say her mind had a noble prospect ; her eye was
to a better and more lasting inheritance than can be
found below, which made her often despise the greatness
of courts, and learning of the schools, of which she was
an extraordinary judge."
To this year also belong two of his writings— a
" duply " to a scurrilous reply to his Apology, entitled
^' Quakerism the pathway to Paganism," by John Brown,
and a translation of his Latin letter to the Ambassadors
assembled at Nimeguen, urging the claims of peace.
The Apologist of Quakerism, 129
During the remaiiiiiio; years of liis life, Kobert Bar-
clay published little. Probably he was too busy to write
much. Of his employments unfortunately we know little.
His writings, his learning, his great ability, his rank,
his aristocratic friends and connections, and his influ-
ence at court, made him a man of mark. In his own
society, he was a recognised leader. His ministry evi-
dently was of a high order. Possibly not so popular
as that of Fox or Penn, it must have been solid, earnest,
and impressive. He is known to us almost solely as an
author, but his own generation knew him as a capable
man of affairs. He was not a popular leader like Fox,
or a man consumed by large humanitarian schemes like
Penn. But he had a broad and liberal mind, sound
judgment, and an insinuating address. The dedication
of the Apology shows with what skill he could walk on
delicate ground.
About this time, the divisions which troubled Friends
in England found their way to Aberdeen. Rogers and
Bugg sent their slanderous letters everywhere, and as
Barclay was mistakenly supposed to have written the
"Anarchy of Banters '' against the former, it was not
likely that the peace of Aberdeen would be undisturbed.
Several members had to be expelled and then harmony,
was restored. It is to this that the following extract
from a letter of Geor2;e Fox refers.
"London, 31st of 4th mo. (June), 1G80.
" Dear Robert Barclay,
With my love to thee and thy Father and all the rest
of the faithful friends in the holy peaceable truth, that
is over all and changes not. I am sorry to hear that
there should be any difference or distance amongst any
Friends in your parts, and that they should not keep
in the power of the Lord to the spreading of the truth
abroad, and such great want and need as there is in
your country. For all should be in the Gospel of peace,
in the power of God in which enmity cannot come, and
130 Robert Barclay ^
in tlie peaceable wisdom which is easy to be entreated.
And therefore you that are ministers in that nation
should meet together sometimes, and keep in unity, and
that you might treat of things that tend for peace, as
the Apostles and Elders did in their day, to the estab-
lishing, settling, and jireserving of the churches in
Christ Jesus."
It may surprise some who have mistaken ideas of
Fox's methods to find him saying : " I shall write a few
words to John Blaikling, for him and Thomas Lang-
horn to come into your country, for they are honest men
and may be very serviceable." From the next sentence,
it appears that Barclay had not been at the recent
Yearly Meeting which had threatened to be a stormy
one, but had passed off peaceably. *^As for the Yearly
Meeting, the Lord did manifest his wonderful power
and j^i^esence in all the meetings, and it was mighty
large from all parts, and the love of God was raised in
Friends beyond words. I have not seen the like. And
though many of the dirty spirits was there that are
rebellious, yet the Lord's power and truth was over
them, and Friends parted in the power and love of God,
and all was quiet."
In 1679-1682 the Duke of York was in Scotland,
first as Lord High Commissioner, afterwards on a visit.
Considering the cruel and mischievous policy which he
pursued there, it seems incredible to us that Barclay
should have been able to like him. Yet he seems often
to have been at his court, and to liave had the fiivourable
impressions which he had already received of the duke
deepened and confirmed. Hume says indeed that, ^' the
duke had behaved with great civility towards the gentry
and nobility [of Scotland] and by his courtly demeanour
had much won uj)on their affections." So that Barclay
was not alone. At one time he verified before the duke
a claim of his father's for money laid out in the service
of Charles I.; the debt was acknowledged, but only a
The Apologist of Quakerism, 131
small part, less than £300, was ever paid. Again he
visits him in Edinbro^ at the earnest desire of William
Penn about the New Jersey affiiirs/^ At other times he
fully used his great influence with James on behalf of
his friends. Even when in 1680 the Duke was called
to Windsor, Barclay's wishes were not forgotten as ap-
23ears by the following note.
Windsor, June 27th, 1880.
I send you here enclosed a letter to the Lord Advo-
cate as you desired. I choose to write to him because I
had spoken to him of it when I was in Scotland. You
see I do my part, and I make no doubt but that he will
do his, and then you will have no further trouble in
that affair. James.
Whilst in London in 1682, Robert Barclay was ap-
pointed governor of East Jersey (the Eastern part of
New Jersey) which had been purchased by William
Penn, the Earl of Perth, and other of his friends. He
was made one of the proprietors, and " to induce him to
* The whole letter which tells us this is worth quoting. Letters of
the Early Friends, pp. 257, 8.
Edr. [Edinburgh], the 10th mo. [Dec] 1G70.
Dear G. F.,
To whom is my dear and unfeigned love in the unchangeable Truth,
of whom to hear is always refreshful to me. I know it will be accept-
able to thee to understand that at last the tedious persecution at
Aberdeen seems to have come to an end, for Friends have had their
meetings peaceable near these two months, and dear P. L. (Patrick
Livingstone) after having had several peaceable meetings, is now come
away a noble conqueror from that place, and is gone to visit Friends
in the west country, and then intends homeward by way of Newcastle.
I doubt not, but that God will abundantly reward his courage and his
patience ; for his stay hath been of great service to Truth and Friends
in these parts.
I came here at the earnest desire of W. P. (William Penn) atul other
Friends to speak to the Duke of York concerning the New Jersey
business ; but fear there will be little effectual got done in it. I doubt
it has been spoiled in the managing at first. * * * I should be
very glad, if thy freedom could allow of it, to see thee in this country
in the spring. I know it would be of great service, for there are several
things that would need it. Several things go cross, and are so now in
divers places; and I know no man's presence could so easily remedy
it as thine." He signs himself, " thy real friend, 11. Barclay."
132 Robert Barclay,
accept thereof [of the Governorship] they gifted him
a propriety with 5000 acres more for him to bestow as
he should think fit." "Charles II. confirmed the grant
of the Government, and the royal commission states that
* such are his known fidelity and capacity, that he has
the Government during life ; but no other governor after
him shall have it longer than three years.' '' He ap-
pointed as his deputy Gawen Laurie, a London Friend
and merchant, already attached to the province as one of
the proprietors of West Jersey. His brothers John and
David intended to settle there, but David died on the
voyage. He was a youth of great piety and promise,
greatly beloved, especially by his father. John settled
at Perth-Amboy, the capital of the province, where he
died in 1731. The only mention of him which I can
find is in Smith's History of New Jersey, where it is
said, " He bore the character of a good neighbour, and
was very serviceable to the public in several capacities,
but more particularly in Amboy, where he lived and
died."*
In Robert Barclav, William Penn would have not
only a practical adviser, but one able to understand and
sympathise with his lofty aims. He who suggested two
hundred years ago a just method of disendowment, and
who so effectively advocated the cause of peace, would
have large-hearted sympathy and suggestions for the
founder of the Western Utopia. It is unfortunate that
we have no information of his plans and efibrts for the
two colonies. Once only the curtain is lifted. In 1685
we find him " attentive to the welfare of East Jersey by
shipping provisions and engaging indented servants in
Aberdeen." f
* Both brothers were members of the Society of Friends, and the
younger was aheady a minister at the time of his death.
t Education was early attended to by Friends. " In 1G81 in Aber-
deen Monthly Meeting, two schools were established, one for boys and
one for girls. The latter was held in the meeting-house. The school-
mistress was besought by the cliurch ' to seek to accomplish herself
The Apologist of Quaherism, 133
Tliere is a well-known and authentic story of Barclay's
adventure with a robber, which is often quoted by Friends
in support of their belief in non-resistance to evil. He
had been to London, and had left one of his sons at
Theobalds, where his old friend George Keith had set
up a school. One morning his wife noticed that he
looked thoughtful, and asked the reason. He replied
that he believed some uncommon trial would that day
befal the company. They set out on their journey, and
met with the not uncommon incident in those days near
London — an attack from highwaymen. One of these
presented his pistol at Robert Barclay, who with calm
self-possession took him by the arm, and asked him
how he came to be so rude. The robber dropped his
pistol, and became quiet as a lamb. Mrs. Barclay's
brother was not so fortunate, he was robbed ; and one
of the four members of the party, a Dutchman named
Sonmans, accidentally received a wound in his thigh
from which he died. Surely the father never showed
more coolness under fire than did the son when sud-
denly confronted by such danger.'^
in reading, writing, and arithmetic,' and also to get ' a good stocking-
weaver.' The church also, 'had a true sense that there is cause for
encouraging her.' Some of the parents thought otherwise and with-
drew their children, and it was directed, that they he weightily dealt
with to return them again. The boys school had a schoolmaster who
was allowed 100 pound rent. It was to impart * the Latin tongue and
other conmiendable learning.' The 'priests' manifested 'great trouble'
at the setting uj:* of this school, because 'several considerable people
of the world have sent their children thereto, highly commending
their profiting therein beyond their own schools. And some fruits
also as to conviction and conversion among the young ones hath
l)een of great encouragement to us.' ' (Kobert Barclay's " Inner Life,
«fcc.," p. 482, note.)
That Robert Barclay took great interest in this effort may be taken
for granted. There is extant a copy of a letter of his widow's (dated
15th of 6th ino., 1693) full of earnest desires for the scholars and recom-
mendations to the teachers.
* The incident is thus told more fully and picturesquely by Wilson
Armistead. " Calm and self-possessed, he looked the robber in the
face, with a firm but meek benignity, assured him he was his and
every man's friend, that he was willing and ready to relieve his wants;
134 Robert Barclay,
Barclay like William Penn was charged with doubt-
ful relations with James II. They both believed him
sincere in his professed regard for religious liberty;
they both felt for him a real, though it seems to us an
unmerited regard. He showed them both special kind-
ness, and listened to their pleas for their brethren and
for others. George Fox writes to Barclay in 1686 : —
" Friends were very sensible of the great service thou
hadst concerning the truth with the king and all the
court; and that thou hadst their ear more than any
Friend when here." But it must not be supposed that
they were therefore indifferent to the constitutional
principles at stake. (See sketch of Penn.) There is a
curious disproof of this in a hint conveyed in the
Friends' address to the king on his Declaration of In-
dulgence, drawn up by the Yearly Meeting of 1687,
when it is almost certain that Barclay was present and
must have concurred. " We hope," they say, " the
good effects thereof may produce such a concurrence
from the parliament as will secure it to our posterity."
This influence at court caused Robert Barclay often to
be wanted in London, and he seems to have been a
constant attender of the Yearly Meetings up to 1688.
In 1685 we are told that Barclay was again in
London at the Yearly Meeting, and employed himself
in many acts of kindness. Charles II. had died on the
6th of February, and James at once ascended to the
throne. If Barclay had been anxious for the royal
favour, as some asserted, he would at once have gone to
that he was free from the fear of death through a divine hope of im-
niortaUty, and therefore was not to be intimidated by a deadly weapon,
and then appealed to him whether he could find in his heart to shed
the blood of one who had no other feeling or purpose but to do him
good. The robber was confounded ; his eye melted; his brawny arm
trembled ; his pistol dro^oped out of his hand on to the ground, and
he lied from the presence of the non-resistant hero whom he could
no longer confront." Mr. Armistead's memoir was published long
after the publication of the contemporary letters which give the sim-
pler narrative ; the reader must take his choice.
The Apologist of Quakerism, 135
court to salute the rising sun. Instead, we find liim
going simply to the May gatherings of his brethren, and
only at a later date seeking the royal presence on behalf
of others.
In 1686 he repeated his visit on the same errand and
took part with George Whitehead in an appeal to the
king, which resulted in the liberation of 1200 Friends.
Whitehead says he took Barclay with him, " the king
having a particular respect for him from the knowledge
he hacl of him in Scotland ; " but Wliitehead seems to
have been the chief speaker. In the end the king
granted a commission to the attorney-general, Sir R.
Sawyer, to issue warrants to release all whom he could
legally discharge as the king's prisoners, which through
George Whitehead's energy was thoroughly carried out.
Soon after Barclay's return, his aged father sickened,
and died on the 12tli of October. His son published a
very full account of his last days, which seem to have
been full of heavenly calm and restful faith. The old
soldier, after a youth of adventures and a manhood of
perils and persecutions, " fell asleep," says his son, " like
a lamb." The feelings that first won him to Quakerism
were strong to the last. To the doctor who attended
him he said, " It is the life of righteousness that we
bear witness to, and not an empty profession." To the
Friends who gathered round his dying-bed, he said,
" How precious is the love of God among his children,
and their love to one another ! My love is with you —
I leave it among you." As the end drew near, he ex-
claimed, " Now the time comes ! Praises, praises to the
Lord ! Let now thy servant depart in peace." And so
he crossed the river.
Again in 1687 Robert Barclay visited London,
travelling with Viscount and Lady Arbuthnot, the
latter as a daughter of the Earl of Sunderland being a
distant cousin of his own. The Scotch Quakers had
previously met in Aberdeen, and had drawn up in their
136 Robert Barclay ,
General Meeting an address of acknowledgment to the
king on his recent Declaration of Indulgence ; this
Robert Barclay presented. A similar one, prepared by
this London Yearly Meeting of 1687 and presented to
the king by William Penn, has been already mentioned.
On this occasion, Barclay visited the seven bishops who
were in the Tower for refusing to circulate this very
Declaration. They had declared that the Quakers
had belied them by rejDorting that they had been the
death of some of them. Probably Barclay felt not
only that the charge, which certainly had been made,
must be sustained for the credit of his brethren, but
what was more important, that the bishops were now in
a position better to understand the Quaker pleas for
liberty of conscience. So he produced to them unques-
tionable proof that some Friends had been kept in gaol
until they died, even after trustworthy physicians had
warned their persecutors that death must be the result
of their longer detention. However, he assured them
that they would not publish the damaging facts, lest it
should furnish a handle to their enemies.
His last visit to London was early in 1688, and he
remained all the summer. On the journey he had the
company of his brother-in-law. Sir Ewen Cameron, of
Lochiel. He took with him his eldest son Robert, then a
boy of sixteen, remarkable alike for his piety and for
his precocious Scotch prudence, and introduced him to
the court at Windsor. There he remained for some
time, " being much caressed, it is said, on account of his
father's interest, which occasioned numerous depend-
ents ; and he appears to have conducted himself so as to
incur no reproach even with Quakers.'' A sermon
which Eobert Barclay preached at this time in Grace-
church St. Meeting, was reported and has been
published. One great object of this journey was to see
justice done to his brother-in-law, who had a difference
with the powerful Duke of Gordon. Barclay set him-
The Apologist of Quakerism. 137
self in good earnest to get tlie matter righted. First he
wrote to several English noblemen with wliom he was
intimate, but they were shy of the difficult task, though
they all professed their willingness to help him in any-
thing else. Then he appealed to the king, and "succeeded
in obtaining from him a full hearing upon the whole
]natter, in the presence of the Marquis of Powis and the
Earls of Murray and Melfort, who were requested to
become referees. Perservering through all obstructions
raised by the opposite party, Barclay was able at length
to obtain a final settlement, much to the advantage of
Cameron of Lochiel." Thus again James appears
under Barclay's influence as the good genius of the op-
pressed.
On one of his visits to the court, he found the king full
of the thought of the coming of the Prince of Orange.
They had a serious conversation about the state of
affairs, and Barclay, like Penn, sincerely sympathised
with the royal culprit in his troubles. "Being with
him near a window, the king looked out and observed
that ^ the wind was then fair for the Prince of Orange
to come over.' Robert Barclay replied, ' it was hard
that no expedient could be found to satisfy the people.'
The king declared he w^ould do anything becoming a
gentleman, except parting with liberty of conscience,
which he never would whilst he lived."
After the Revolution, the calumnies by which he was
assailed led to his drawing up a " Vindication,'' which
is the last known 2^i*oduction of his pen. For himself
he would have been content to bear these calumnies in
silence. Two reasons overruled this choice. Some men
of judgment wlio found how completely he could refute
them, wished his answers to be well known. On the
G.hcr hand, the loss of his rej^utation caused damage to
the Society to which he belonged, and of whose interests
he was so jealous. Yet his own contempt for the charges
laid against him, and for the popular opinion of him, is
138 Robert Barclay,
evident in almost every paragraph. There is more than
courageous outspokenness ; there is the indifference of
one who feels, "With me it is a small thing that I
should be judged of you. He that judgeth me is the
Lord."
He sums up the charges against him thus : — " That
I am a papist and some will needs have me a Jesuite ;
that . the access and interest I have been thought to
have had with the king is thereto ascribed ; that I have
been a great caballer and councealor of those things that
have been done for the advancement of the Eomish in-
terest and agrieving of the people : and thence have been
a joint contriver with the Jesuit Peters and others ; and
that for this I have received advantages and money from
the king, and so consequently am chargeable with the
odium and censure that such doings merit." To this he
replies, that he has been married eighteen years and has
several children, which proves him no Jesuit ; that for
twenty-two years he has been no Papist, " without being
under the least temptation to return to it again ; " that
he has always avowed his opposition to those principles
"in the opinion of some more forw^ardly than prudently,"
when the catholic party was strong, "judging it," he
adds sarcastically, " a fitter season then than now to
show zeal for the Protestant religion." The only money
ever paid to him from the treasury is acknowledged in
the published accounts, and so on. But what is most
daring is his charity towards the fallen monarch and
his Catholic friends in the hour of their unpopularity.
" For I nuist confess that the fatal streaks the interest
of the Church of Rome seems to have gotten in these
nations does not a wliitt increase my aversion to their
religion, for that I judge truth and error is not rightly
measured by such events ; and as to the persons of
Ptoman Catholics, as it never agreed with the notions I
have of the Christian religion to hate these persons, so
their present misfortunes are so far from embittering
The Apologist of Quakerism, 139
my spirit towards them that it rather increases tender-
ness and regard to them, while I consider the ingenerous
spirit of those who cannot take a more effectual way to
lessen the reputation of the Protestant religion."
" I come now to the great charge of my access to and
interest with the king. And if I should ask whether
that were a crime ? I find few reasonable men, if any,
would say so. But I am neither afraid nor ashamed to
give a candid account of that matter." He then gives
the occasion of their meeting in 1676, as narrated else-
where, and proceeds : — " To do him right, I never found
reason to doubt his sincerity in the matter of liberty of
conscience. . . . After his happening to be in Scot-
land, giving me an opportunity of more frequent access,
and that begetting an opinion of interest, I acknow^ledge
freely that I was ready to use it to the advantage of my
friends and acquaintances, w^hat I esteemed just and
reasonable for me to meddle in." Again he says, *' In
short I must own nor will I decline to avow that I love
King James, that I wish him well, that I have been and
am sensibly touched with a feeling of his misfortunes,
and that I cannot excuse myself from the duty of praying
for him that God may bless him, and sanctify His afflic-
tions to him. And if so be His will to take from him
an earthly crown, He may prepare his heart and direct
his steps so that he may obtain through mercy an heav-
enly one, which all good Christians judge the most
preferable."
The last two years of Kobert Barclay's life seem to
have been spent in social enjoyment and quiet useful-
ness at home. "There," we are told, "his mild and
amiable virtues found their happiest sphere of exercise,
and he enjoyed the esteem of his neighbours." But
such serene happiness was not to last. In 1690, he
travelled in the ministry in the north of Scotland, accom-
panied by another Quaker preacher named James
Dickinson. Soon after his return home, he was seized
140 Robert Bar clay y
with a violent fever, under which ho soon sunk, and
died on the 3rd of October, 1690. He was laid beside
his father in the vault in the burial place in the beauti-
ful grounds of Ury which his father had prepared.
(Thither his descendants and namesakes were gathered
one by one for 160 years, until in 1854, the last laird,
Capt. Barclay- Allardice, after mortgaging his estates to
their full value, and bringing sadness to the hearts of all
who loved the name he bore, was brought there to his
last rest.) There was great lamentation, especially in
his own society, when the news got abroad. Fox, Penn,
and others bore no grudging testimony to his gifts and
services. The latter edited his works, with an ample
preface, in which the subjects and merits of the different
treatises are spoken of with judgment, yet with all the
warmth of a personal friend.
Barclay's Apology has been spoken of as a system of
Divinity. It is nothing of the kind, but simply an ex-
haustive treatise on the j^oints in which Quakerism differs
from the current evangelical Christianity of his day.
The point is of importance, because otherwise the reader
may be led astray both by the omissions from the work,
and by the proportions allotted to different subjects.
He must look elsewhere, for instance, for proofs that the
early Friends were substantially orthodox in their views
of the Trinity.
Much has been said about the Apology being framed
on a plan similar to the Assembly's Catechism, and
being indeed a reply to it. But that Catechism itself is
on the plan of Calvin's Institutes, the trusted guide of
Scotch orthodoxy. It would be an interesting point to
trace the relation between the Institutes and the Apol-
ogy. As to the Calvinistic controversy, a recent writer
says, " No man ever gave Calvinism such mighty shakes
as Barclay did. And he shook it from within. He
understood it. As the religion of his country he had
entered into it and made himself master of it. His
The Apologist of Quakerism, 141
controversy with Calvin was on fundamental principles."
(Theological lleview, 1874, p. 553). These assertions
must be modiiied by remembering that, as we have seen,
almost from cliildhood Barclay disliked Calvinism, so
that whilst he might effectually combat some of its
positions, he w\as little likely to do justice to its strong
points, and can hardly be said to have shaken it from
within. The Arminianism of the Catholic Church
would strengthen his mstinctive dislike, so that though
he found the Quakers Arminians, he in nowise owed
his convictions on this point to them.
The style of the Apology is beautifully clear. The
best proof of its simplicity is to be found in the fact
thr.t many of the artisan class have so followed its
reasonings as to be led to accept Quakerism by this
book alone. Probably it has brought more converts to
Quakerism than any other book that ever was written.
It is grand in its efficient handling of great questions
without any appearance of labour or effort. There is a
cumulative power in many of the paragraphs that is
very effective ; epithet piled on epithet, clause following
up clause like the waves of the incoming tide, until
mind and heart are alike borne along by its rush. The
thought is made to stand out not only boldly and clearly,
but clothed with that subtle power which is only wielded
by the transparently honest and the intensely earnest.
At times the writer condescends to brusque vehemence
or touching appeal to his own experience.
Whatever claim for originality of thought is advanced
on behalf of Robert Barclay, must principally be based
on his arguments in defence of Quakerism, and on his
systematising of Quaker thought.* His namesake and
*In the '' Yorkshireman." a religious paper condncted by the emi-
nent meteorologist, Luke Howard, F.R.S., before he left the Society
of Friends, in consequence of their action in the " Beacon" contro-
versy— there is (vol. III. pp. 8-14) an interesting enquiry as to Bar-
clay's indebtedness to George Keith for his views as to the ''hypothe-
sis or system relating to the 'Seed or Birtli of God in the soul, which
142 Robert Barclay,
descendant, the late Robert Barclay of Eeigate, bestowed
great pains and labour on investigations to find out how
far the ideas of the Early Friends were known to the
world before George Fox preached them. He has shewn
in his "Inner Life of the Religious Societies of the
Commonwealth " that to a large extent the religious
phrases and tenets of the Friends, were those used and
held by Caspar Schwenkfeld, and his followers amongst
the Mennonite churches of Holland and Germany.
Churches of their faith and order were established in
York and Lincoln when George Fox began to preach,
through which he may have received their views.*
At least Mr. Barclay has proved that Fox was ac-
quainted with these views, though possibly he may not
makes it a distinct being or substance as the Vehiculum Dei, &c.'"
The writer terms Barclay's view a Platonising doctrine. Certainly
Keith felt very kindly towards Dr. Henry More, the great Platonist,
and urged Friends to shew him loving sympathy "notwithstanding
of his mistakes." Keith declared afterward that Barclay learnt the
doctrine from him, and the writer produces proofs of this from Keith's
writings. But the recent proofs of a common source in the writings
of Schwenkfeldt, makes the enquiry less interesting.
*The Mennonites condemned all oaths, all war, all adornment in
dress, and frivolity in conduct and conversation. They had times for
silent prayer in their worship ; they had no paid ministry ; they taught
that a university training alone did not fit a man for the ministry.
They also set the fatal example of excluding from their membership
those who married either unconverted persons, or Christians of other
denominations. They had circulating Yearly Meetings like the early
Friends.
But the followers of Caspar Schwenfeld were still more like Friends
than were other Mennonites. The same authority says (p. 237) : —
"The teaching of Schwenkfeld and Fox was identical on three import-
ant points. First, on what is called the doctrine of the * Inward Light,
Life, Word, Seed, <tc.' Secondly, on * Immediate Revelation ;' that is,
that God and Christ in the person of the Holy Spirit, the Word of God,
communicates with the human soul without the absolute necessity
of the rites and ceremonies of the church, or of any outward means,
acts or things, however important they may be. . . . Thirdly,
that as a necessary consequence, no merely bodily act, such as par-
taking of the Lord's Supper or Baptism, can give the inward and spir-
itual reality and power of the Lord's ' body and blood,' or that of the
spiritual 'washing of regeneration ;' nor can the soul be maintained in
spiritual union with him by bodily acts." Schwenkfeld and his fol-
lowers therefore discarded baptism and the Lord's Supper.
Tlie Apoloyisl of Quakerism, 143
have known tlieir source. But it is evident that they
were not received by him mechanically. They were
assimilated, not swallowed ; that which seemed to him
chatF being separated from the wheat with intelligent
appreciation, and such variations being introduced as
his own experience and conscience indicated.
The Apology develops with systematic thoroughness,
the doctrine of the *' Seed " or " Light within.'' The
" Light within " is given to every man in measure,
whether he be born in Christian or heathen lands ; and
so has been given since the Creation. It manifests his
sins with kindly severity. As it is attended to, it grows
in clearness, more light is given until the whole soul is
filled with light, and joy, and peace. At first, the
" seed " lies all but dormant in the human soul, until its
faint impulses are recognised, accepted and honoured.
Then it grows in power, it subdues the corruptions of
the flesh, it spreads its influence throughout the whole
nature and the whole life. Its power is sufiicient for
every duty and for all righteousness. But the early
Friends are not at all careful to maintain unity of idea
and congruity of figure with regard to the terms "Light"
and "Seed." They use them indiscriminately to de-
scribe the Divine In-dwelling in all its stages. They
are the secret of man's capacity for salvation. Through
the " Universal Light " all men may be led to a saving
knowledge of God. It prepares the way for those
" Immediate Bevelations " of divine truth, which Barclay
declares to have been the formal objects of faith in all
ages. By these " Immediate Revelations " or discover-
ies of vital truth to the soul, and by these alone, every
Christian becomes savingly acquainted with the things
of God.
Like the Mennonites, the Quakers did not believe the
Seed to have any vitality apart from the Spirit of God.
Neither the early Friends nor any of their successors
have ever believed in any natural power in man, by
144 Robert Barclay,
whicli he could savingly know God, or work out his
soul's salvation. The seed or light was the gift of God ;
it was not the soul, as Barclay is careful to explain, but
a " substance "'^ divinely given to every man, not natur-
ally, but by grace. The seed was not separable from
Christ, and when it was quickened, Christ was formed
in the heart, and became the life of the soul.f
Another peculiar feature of the Quaker view of the
Divine Indwelling is developed by Barclay in his chapter
on Perfection. He has before claimed that justification
is all as one with sanctification ; he now explains that,
in the view of Friends, regeneration implies the possi-
bility of perfection in this life. He contends earnestly
for a lofty view of the power of Christ in the believer.
His proposition runs thus: — "Proposition VIII. In
whom this pure and holy birth is fully brought forth,
the body of death and sin comes to be crucified and
removed, and their hearts united and subjected to the
truth, so as not to obey any temptation or suggestion of
the evil one, to be free from actual sinning and trans-
gressing of the law of God, and in that respect perfect ;
* Barclay uses the term in its scholastic sense as opposed to
" attribute."
t The followin,^ extract will assist in correcting one mistaken idea
of the " Light within." It is from a speech made in the Yearly Meeting
of 1861, by my respected former tutor, Isaac Brown, whose solid learn-
ing and sound judgment have won him the greatest confidence amongst
Friends. The notorious *' Essays and reviews " were under discussion,
and he said, *^Some thought the work ought to be hailed by our Soci-
ety, because of the views it advanced on the doctrine of the * inward
light.' He believed this idea was a misconception. The opinion of
the Essayists appeared to coincide rather with those of the Hicksite
body in America, than with those preached by George Fox and now
held by our Society. It was not the 'inward light' (by which our
early Friends clearly stated that they meant nothing else than the
light of the Spirit of Christ) to which these writers referred us, but the
* enlightened reason.' He thought it was time for us to discontinue
the u'se of this term * the inward light,' as it had been grievously mis-
interpreted out of the Society, and was not found in Scripture."
Let me here say that any one may find the essentials of Quakerism
without the Platonising doctrine of the "Seed," in J. J. Gurney's
"Distinguishing Views and Practices of the Society of Friends."
The Apologist of Quakerism. 145
yet doth tins perfection still admit of a growth, and
there remainetli always in some part a possibility of
sinning, where the mind doth not most diligently attend
unto the Lord."
From tliese and other teachings it has been inferred
that the Friends did not believe in the earthly life and
sacrificial death of our Lord ; that they knew no Christ
but the Christ within. This is a great mistake.'''* That
they received and held these truths is a point easily
proved, and Barclay distinctly afiirms that they must
be preached, or the believer w^ill not become a complete
Christian. But they argued that there might be Chris-
tian life without the knowledge of these truths. In their
teachings the Christ within was prominent, and the
death of Christ filled a less prominent position as the
ground of God's mercy, the meritorious cause of the gift
within.
But in perusing Barclay, the reader will of course
remember the controversies out of which his works
sprung, and will make allowance for the strain of debate.
Points on which disputants are agreed will always be
passed over slightly ; points that have been overlooked
or challenged will be emphasised, and dwelt on so
largely as to seem out of proportion. But undoubtedly,
when amongst the Friends of the next century these
controversial works became the staple reading of an age
of declining piety, the mischief done by this disj)ropor-
tion was great. Quakerism, contrary to the designs and
aspirations of its early leaders, became almost synony-
mous with mysticism and quietism, and little better
than theism. The objective facts of Christianity were
neglected, and subjective experiences w^ere everything.
For instance in all the writings and Journal of John
Woolman, admirable as they are in many respects, there
is liardly a single statement of the atoning work of our
Lord and Saviour.
* See the valuable letter, quoted p. 70.
/
146 Robert Barclay,
Still the evangelical reader will find in Barclay much
that he can enjoy and approve. His arguments for the
necessity of the Holy Spirit's help in reading the
Scriptures to profit, and in gaining a saving knowledge
of Christian truth, are most excellent. So with many
other points involving spiritual-mindedness. But the
present writer heartily agrees with Joseph John Gurney,
when, in the midst of tlje Beacon controversy he wrote,
when Barclay's name was brought into special prominence,
" I am, however, inclined to the opinion, that were we
compelled to select a single writer in order to ascertain
the religious principles of the Early Friends, we could
scarcely do better than choose George Fox himself."'^
And this choice would be justified, not only by the
clearness and fulness of Fox's expositions of Scripture
truth, but by the healthy tone and practical power of
those expositions. It is significant that Barclay and
not Fox was the favourite writer of the Quietistic age of
Quakerism.
For a long period Barclay was more than a standard
writer amongst the Friends. His Apology had all the
authority of a creed, and not to accept it would be
sufficient to brand any Friend as unsound.f Nobler
minds might feel that this was bondage utterly foreign
to the spirit of the early Friendsj yet a large number
of Friends did not. But about the beginning of the
present century, a change came over the Society.
Beligious and philanthropic works led some of its
members to associate with evangelical churchmen and
* J. J. Gurney 's Memoirs, vol. 2, p. 28.
f "The 'Apology' of Barclay was largely printed and distributed by
the Society, and was accepted at the period of which we are treating
[1833] (contrary to the principles of the ancient Society) as a distinct
creed, which every person bearing the name of a ' Friend ' ought to be
prepared to accept in all its parts. * ^- * At this period it was deemed
sufficient proof of I. Crewdson's doctrinal 'unsoundness/ to state that
he objected to certain portions of the able theological treatise of Bar-
clay." ** E,. Barclay's ' Inner Life of tlie Eeligious Societies of the
Commonwealth,' " p. 573.
The Apologist of QuaJcerism, 147
others. Controversies also arose, whicli at least com-
pelled a systematic and critical study of the Bible.
Broader sympathies and more enlightened study of the
Scriptures undermined Barclay's influence. It was
found that his exposition of Scripture texts was some-
times unsatisfactory. The Yearly Meeting ceased to
print the Apology for gratuitous distribution, though
not without strenuous protest from some, wdio clung to
the old ways of presenting Quaker truth.
In the more recent literature of the Society, the doc-
trine of the Divine seed is scarcely to be found. But
its essence is there. The illumination of the Holy
Spirit, and the presence of Christ with his church are
held by Friends with peculiar distinctness and force.
The fact that all men have grace enough to accept the
offer of salvation if they will, is stated as clearly now as
it was by George Fox. Let there be but the zeal and
the faith of George Fox, his urgency in dealing with
men, his confidence in pleading with God, and Quaker-
ism has yet a message that the world needs to hear, and
that will win its olden triumphs, and bring its divine
blessings to man.