THE SIXTH BOOK. 1661-1664.

1661.

The year 1661 being come, the government was altogether changed. Charles the Second was now seated on the throne of England in peace, and the power of persecution seemed somewhat restrained; so that there was an appearance of some quiet and calm. Therefore I will now take a turn to New England, to draw back the curtains of the bloody stage at Boston. We have already seen in the foregoing relation, how William Robinson, Marmaduke Stevenson, and Mary Dyar, were put to death by their persecutors, but their blood-thirstiness was not yet quenched.

William Leddra, who was banished from Boston on pain of death, was under such necessity of conscience, that he could not forbear returning thither; where he came about the conclusion of the foregoing year; but was soon taken prisoner, and being fastened to a log of wood, was kept night and day locked in chains, in an open prison, during a very cold winter; where we will leave him for the present, and in the meanwhile insert here an apology of the Boston persecutors concerning their cruel carriage, which may serve to confirm the truth of what hath been already related of their wicked dealings. For it seems, that fearing their bloody deeds would be disapproved by the court of England, they thought it safest for them to gild their transactions with a specious pretence; though this was of no other effect than that thereby they yet more exposed their own shame to public view, and in process of time they also incurred the King’s displeasure; for though Charles the Second was inclined to voluptuousness, yet he was good-natured, and the persecution in his reign proceeded chiefly from the instigation of other malicious men. But to come to the apology or declaration of the bloody persecutors, it was as followeth:

‘Although the justice of our proceedings against Wm. Robinson, Marmaduke Stevenson, and Mary Dyar, supported by the authority of this court, the laws of this country, and the law of God, may rather persuade us to expect encouragement and commendation from all prudent and pious men, than convince us of any necessity to apologize for the same: yet for as much as men of weaker parts, out of pity and commiseration, a commendable and Christian virtue, yet easily abused, and susceptible of sinister and dangerous impressions, for want of a full information, may be less satisfied; and men of perverser principles, led to calumniate us, and render us as bloody persecutors; to satisfy the one, and stop the mouths of the other, we thought it requisite to declare, about three years since, divers persons professing themselves Quakers, (of whose pernicious opinions and practices we had received intelligence from good hands from Barbadoes and England,) arrived at Boston, whose persons where only secured to be sent away the first opportunity, without censure or punishment, although their professed tenets, turbulent and contemptuous behaviour to authority, would have justified a severer animadversion; yet the prudence of this court was exercised, only in making provision to secure the peace and order here established, against their attempts, whose design, (we were well assured by our own experience, as well as by the example of their predecessors in Munster,) was to undermine and ruin the same.

‘And accordingly a law was made and published, prohibiting all masters of ships, to bring any Quakers into this jurisdiction, and themselves from coming in on penalty of the house of correction, till they should be sent away. Notwithstanding which, by a back door they found entrance, and the penalty inflicted on themselves proving insufficient to restrain their impudent and insolent obtrusions, was increased by the loss of the ears of those who offended the second time; which also being too weak a defence against their impetuous frantic fury, necessitated us to endeavour our security; and upon serious consideration, after the former experiments by their incessant assaults, a law was made, that such persons should be banished upon pain of death, according to the example of England, in their provision against Jesuits; which sentence being regularly pronounced at the last court of assistants, against the parties above named, and they either returning, or continuing presumptuously in this jurisdiction after the time limited, were apprehended, and owning themselves to be the persons banished, were sentenced by the court to death, according to the law aforesaid, which hath been executed upon two of them. Mary Dyar, (upon petition of her son, and the mercy and clemency of this court,) had liberty to depart within two days; which she hath accepted of. The consideration of our gradual proceeding will vindicate us from the clamorous accusations of severity, our own just and necessary defence calling upon us, (other means failing,) to offer the point, which these persons have violently and wilfully rushed upon, and thereby become felons de se; which, might it have been prevented, and the sovereign law, salus populi, been preserved, our former proceedings, as well as the sparing Mary Dyar upon an inconsiderable intercession, will manifestly evince, that we desire their lives absent, rather than their deaths present.

EDWARD RAWSON, Secretary.’

In this apology, wherein the Quakers, (who always were an harmless people, and never made resistance with outward arms,) are compared to the mutinous and riotous Anabaptists of Munster, it is also said of them, that by a back door they found entrance. And this reflects on some who unexpectedly came into New England by land, since they could find no opportunity to come by sea, because the ship-masters fearing the severity of the Boston laws, were unwilling to carry any Quakers thither. This gave occasion to Thomas Thirstone, (who having been already at Boston, was sent away on board a ship,) to think on other means; for finding himself moved in spirit to go thither again, he and Josiah Cole, of whom mention hath been made before, and who may be further spoken of hereafter, went from England to Virginia, from whence they, with one Thomas Chapman, travelled several hundreds of miles on foot through vast wildernesses and woods, and so at length came into New England, which made the persecutors there astonished; for they thought this impossible, that way having been counted impassable for other men than the Indians, many of whom in those parts are warlike men, who behaved themselves well toward our travellers, whose journey however was very hard; for they had not only hunger and cold, it being winter time, to encounter with, but they were also in danger of being devoured by wild beasts, or of perishing in unknown marshes or bogs. But they were preserved by an Almighty hand; though this marvellous passage was represented like a criminal sauciness, by these New England persecutors.

It seems to me that the aforesaid apology, which was published in print, and likewise answered, was given forth before Mary Dyar was put to death; but after her death the general court of Boston sent over an address to king Charles the Second, signed by their governor John Endicot, to justify their cruel proceedings. Herein they said, that they had chosen rather the pure Scripture worship, with a good conscience, in that remote wilderness among the heathen, than the pleasures of England, with subjection to the imposition of the then so disposed, and so far prevailing hierarchy, which they could not do without an evil conscience.

Concerning the Quakers, they said, that they were open capital blasphemers, and seducers from the glorious Trinity, the Lord Christ, the blessed gospel; open enemies to the government itself; and malignant promoters of doctrines directly tending to subvert both church and state.

Moreover they said, that at last they had been constrained for their own safety, to pass a sentence of banishment against them on pain of death, since the magistrate in conscience judged himself called for the defence of all to keep the passage with the point of the sword held towards them; and that this could do no harm to them that would be warned thereby. But the Quakers rushing themselves thereupon was their own act, and a crime, bringing their blood upon their own heads.

Could they have made the king believe this, they would willingly have done it; but he had too much sense to be thus imposed upon, though they did whatever they could to prevent his hearing the other party, in order whereunto they said, ‘Let not the king hear men’s words; your servants are true men, fearers of God and the king, and not given to change, zealous of government and order; not seditious to the interest of Cæsar.’

How smooth and plausible soever this seemed, yet it could not stand the test; and E. Burrough, who answered it in print, addressed the king thus:

‘O king, this my occasion to present thee with these considerations is very urgent, and of great necessity, even in the behalf of innocent blood, hoping that my work will find such favour with thee, as to induce thee to the reading and serious consideration thereof.’

E. Burrough then examining all their pretended reasons, represented also to the king how some of these petitioners some time before had not stuck to write in a letter from Boston to one Gordon: ‘There is more danger in these Quakers, to trouble and overcome England, than in the king of Scots, and all the popish princes in Germany;’ which plainly denoted, that they reputed the king a troubler of England, whom they numbered with the popish princes of Germany. What E. Burrough obtained of the king for his friends, we may see hereafter.

But first I return to William Leddra, whom I left in prison: it was on the 9th of the First month of this year, that he was brought into the court of assistants, with his chains and log at his heels. And he asking the jailer, when he intended to take off the irons from his legs, the jailer roughly answered, ‘When thou art going to be hanged.’ W. Leddra then being brought to the bar, it was told him by the rulers, speaking of their law, that he was found guilty, and so, that he was to die. He said, ‘What evil have I done?’ The answer was, his own confession was as good as a thousand witnesses. He asked, what that was? To which they answered, that he owned these Quakers that were put to death, and that they were innocent. Besides, that he would not put off his hat in court, and that he said thee and thou. Then said William to them, ‘You will put me to death for speaking English, and for not putting off my clothes?’ To this major-general Denison returned, ‘A man may speak treason in English.’ And William replied, ‘Is it treason to say thee and thou to a single person?’ But none answered, only Simon Broadstreet, one of the court, asked him, whether he would go for England? To which he answered, ‘I have no business there.’ Hereupon Broadstreet, pointing to the gallows, said, ‘Then you shall go that way.’ To which William returned, ‘What, will ye put me to death for breathing in the air in your jurisdiction? And for what you have against me I appeal to the laws of England for my trial; and if by them I am guilty, I refuse not to die.’ Of this no notice was taken, but instead thereof, they endeavoured to persuade him to recant of his error, (as they styled it,) and to conform; to which with a grave magnanimity he answered, ‘What! to join with such murderers as you are? Then let every man that meets me say, lo this is the man that hath forsaken the God of his salvation.’

Whilst the trial of W. Leddra was thus going on, Wenlock Christison, who was already banished upon pain of death, came into the court. This struck a damp upon them, insomuch that for some space of time there was silence in the court: but at length one of the bloody council cried, ‘Here is another, fetch him up to the bar,’ Which the marshal performing, the secretary Rawson said, ‘Is not your name Wenlock Christison?’ ‘Yea,’ said Wenlock. ‘Well,’ said the governor, John Endicot, ‘what dost thou here? Wast thou not banished upon pain of death?’ To which Wenlock answered, ‘Yea, I was.’ And to the question, ‘What dost thou here then?’ he answered, ‘I am come here to warn you that you should shed no more innocent blood; for the blood that you have shed already, cries to the Lord God for vengeance to come upon you.’ Whereupon it was said, ‘Take him away, jailer.’

It having been told W. Leddra, that at the last general court he had liberty given him to go for England, or to go out of their jurisdiction; and that promising to do so, and come there no more, he might save his life; he answered, ‘I stand not in my own will, but in the will of the Lord: if I may have my freedom, I shall go, but to make you a promise I cannot.’ But this was so far from giving content, that they proceeded to pronounce sentence of death against him; which being done, he was led from the court to prison again, where the day before his death he wrote the following letter to his friends:

‘Most dear and inwardly beloved,

‘The sweet influences of the morning star, like a flood distilling into my innocent habitation, hath so filled me with the joy of the Lord in the beauty of holiness, that my spirit is as if it did not inhabit a tabernacle of clay, but is wholly swallowed up in the bosom of eternity, from whence it had its being.

‘Alas, alas, what can the wrath and spirit of man, that lusteth to envy, aggravated by the heat and strength of the king of the locusts, which came out of the pit, do unto one that is hid in the secret places of the Almighty, or unto them that are gathered under the healing wings of the Prince of Peace? under whose armour of light they shall be able to stand in the day of trial, having on the breastplate of righteousness, and the sword of the spirit, which is their weapon of war against spiritual wickedness, principalities, and powers, and the rulers of the darkness of this world, both within and without. Oh, my beloved! I have waited as a dove at the windows of the ark, and have stood still in that watch, which the Master, (without whom I could do nothing,) did at his coming reward with fulness of his love, wherein my heart did rejoice, that I might in the love and life of God speak a few words to you sealed with the spirit of promise, that the taste thereof might be a savour of life, to your life, and a testimony in you of my innocent death: and if I had been altogether silent, and the Lord had not opened my mouth unto you, yet he would have opened your hearts, and there have sealed my innocency with the streams of life, by which we are all baptized into that body which is in God, whom and in whose presence there is life; in which, as you abide, you stand upon the pillar and ground of truth; for, the life being the truth and the way, go not one step without it, lest you should compass a mountain in the wilderness; for unto every thing there is a season.

‘As the flowing of the ocean doth fill every creek and branch thereof, and then retires again towards its own being and fulness, and leaves a savour behind it, so doth the life and virtue of God flow into every one of your hearts, whom he hath made partakers of his divine nature; and when it withdraws but a little, it leaves a sweet savour behind it, that many can say, they are made clean through the word that he hath spoken to them: in which innocent condition you may see what you are in the presence of God, and what you are without him. Therefore, my dear hearts, let the enjoyment of the life alone be your hope, your joy and consolation, and let the man of God flee those things that would lead the mind out of the cross, for then the savour of the life will be buried: and although some may speak of things that they received in the life, as experiences, yet the life being veiled, and the savour that is left behind washed away by the fresh floods of temptation, the condition that they did enjoy in the life, boasted of by the airy thing, will be like the manna that was gathered yesterday, without any good scent or savour. For, it was only well with the man while he was in the life of innocency; but being driven from the presence of the Lord into the earth, what can he boast of? And although you know these things, and many of you, much more than I can say; yet, for the love and zeal I bear to the truth and honour of God, and tender desire of my soul to those that are young, that they may read me in that from which I write, to strengthen them against the wiles of the subtil serpent that beguiled Eve, I say, stand in the watch within, in the fear of the Lord, which is the very entrance of wisdom, and the state where you are ready to receive the secrets of the Lord: hunger and thirst patiently, be not weary, neither doubt. Stand still, and cease from thy own working, and in due time thou shalt enter into the rest, and thy eyes shall behold his salvation, whose testimonies are sure and righteous altogether: let them be as a seal upon thine arm, and as jewels about thy neck, that others may see what the Lord hath done for your souls: confess him before men, yea, before his greatest enemies; fear not what they can do unto you: greater is he that is in you, than he that is in the world: for he will clothe you with humility, and in the power of his meekness you shall reign over all the rage of your enemies in the favour of God; wherein, as you stand in faith, ye are the salt of the earth; for, many seeing your good works, may glorify God in the day of their visitation.

‘Take heed of receiving that which you saw not in the light, lest you give ear to the enemy. Bring all things to the light, that they may be proved, whether they be wrought in God; the love of the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eye, are without the light, in the world; therefore possess your vessels in all sanctification and honour, and let your eye look at the mark: he that hath called you is holy: and if there be an eye that offends, pluck it out, and cast it from you: let not a temptation take hold, for if you do, it will keep from the favour of God, and that will be a sad state; for, without grace possessed, there is no assurance of salvation: by grace you are saved; and the witnessing of it is sufficient for you, to which I commend you all my dear friends, and in it remain,

Your brother, WILLIAM LEDDRA.’

Boston Jail, the 13th of the First Month, 1660-61.

The day before he suffered.

The next day after this letter was written, the execution of W. Leddra was performed, which was on the 14th of the First month. After the lecture was ended, the governor, John Endicot, came with a guard of soldiers to the prison, where W. Leddra’s irons were taken off, with which he had been chained to a log both night and day during a cold winter; and now they were knocked off, according to what the jailer once said, as hath been related before. William then having taken his leave of Wenlock Christison, and others then in bonds, when called, went forth to the slaughter, encompassed with a guard to prevent his speaking to his friends; which Edward Wharton an inhabitant of Salem, and also banished on pain of death, seeing, and speaking against, one amongst the company said, ‘O Edward it will be your turn next!’ To which Captain Oliver added, ‘if you speak a word, I’ll stop your mouth.’ Then W. Leddra being brought to the foot of the ladder, was pinioned, and as he was about to ascend the same, he took leave of his friend, E. Wharton, to whom he said, ‘All that will be Christs’s disciples, must take up the cross.’ He standing upon the ladder, somebody said, ‘William, have you any thing to say to the people?’ Thereupon he spoke thus, ‘For the testimony of Jesus, and for testifying against deceivers, and the deceived, I am brought here to suffer.’ This took so much with the people, that it wrought a tenderness in many. But to quench this, priest Allen said to the spectators, ‘People, I would not have you think it strange to see a man so willing to die; for that’s no new thing. And you may read how the apostle said, that some should be given up to strong delusions, and even dare to die for it.’ But he did not say where the apostle speaks so, neither have I found it any where in the holy writ; though I know that Paul saith, Rom. v. 7. “Peradventure for a good man some would even dare to die.” But it seems it was sufficient for Allen, if he could but render Leddra odious: who however continued cheerful: for as the executioner was putting the halter about his neck, he was heard to say, ‘I commit my righteous cause unto thee, O God.’ The executioner then being charged to make haste, W. Leddra, at the turning of the ladder, cried, ‘Lord Jesus receive my spirit;’ and so he was turned off, and finished his days. The hangman cut down the dead body, and lest it should be so barbarously used as those of William Robinson and Marmaduke Stevenson, (which none holding when cut down, fell to the ground to the breaking of W. Robinson’s skull,) Edward Wharton, John Chamberlain, and others, caught the body in their arms and laid it on the ground, till the hangman had stript it of its clothes; who having done so, said, that he was a comely man, as indeed he was. The body being stript, William’s friends took it, laid it in a coffin, and buried it. For further confirmation of what hath been related, the following letter of one of the spectators, that was there accidentally, may be added:

‘Boston, March 26, 1661.

‘On the 14th of this instant, there was one William Leddra, who was put to death. The people of the town told me, he might go away if he would; but when I made further inquiry, I heard the marshal say, that he was chained in prison, from the time he was condemned, to the day of his execution. I am not of his opinion: but yet truly methought the Lord did mightily appear in the man. I went to one of the magistrates of Cambridge, who had been of the jury that condemned him, as he told me himself, and I asked him by what rule he did it? He answered me that he was a rogue, a very rogue. But what is this to the question, I said, where is your rule? He said, he had abused authority. Then I goes after the man, and asked him, whether he did not look on it as a breach of rule to slight and undervalue authority? And I said that Paul gave Festus the title of honour, though he was a heathen. (I do not say that these magistrates are heathens) I said. Then, when the man was on the ladder, he looked on me, and called me friend, and said, know that this day I am willing to offer up my life for the witness of Jesus. Then I desired leave of the officers to speak, and said, Gentlemen, I am a stranger both to your persons and country, and yet a friend to both: and I cried aloud, for the Lord’s sake, take not away the man’s life; but remember Gamaliel’s council to the Jews. If this be of man it will come to nought, but if it be of God, ye cannot overthrow it: but be careful ye be not found fighters against God. And the captain said, why had you not come to the prison? The reason was, because I heard the man might go if he would; and therefore I called him down from the tree, and said, come down, William, you may go away if you will. Then captain Oliver said, it was no such matter; and asked, what I had to do with it? And besides, bade me be gone: and I told them, I was willing; for I cannot endure to see this, I said. And when I was in the town, some did seem to sympathise with me in my grief. But I told them, that they had no warrant from the word of God, nor precedent from our country, nor power from his majesty to hang the man. I rest,

Your Friend, THOMAS WILKIE.’

To Mr. George Lad, master of the America of Dartmouth, now at Barbadoes.

William Leddra being thus despatched, it was resolved to make an end also of Wenlock Christison. He therefore was brought from the prison to the court at Boston, where the governor, John Endicot, and the deputy-governor, Richard Bellingham, being both present, it was told him, ‘Unless you renounce your religion, you shall surely die.’ But instead of shrinking, he said with an undaunted courage, ‘Nay, I shall not change my religion, nor seek to save my life; neither do I intend to deny my master; but if I lose my life for Christ’s sake, and the preaching of the gospel, I shall save my life.’ This noble resolution gave such a check to his persecutors, that they did not then go on with the trial, but sent him away to prison again. And it being said by somebody, that William Leddra was dead, a certain person said to Wenlock, ‘O thy turn is next.’ To which he gravely replied, ‘The will of the Lord be done,’ showing thereby his entire resignation.

Being now locked up again in prison, he was kept there till about the Fourth month: but then the court being set, a spirit of confusion appeared there, and a division among several of the members; for though the greatest part were for taking the same course with him as with those that were already put to death, yet several would not consent to it. And as natural occurrences sometimes cause reflections among observing people, so it happened here; for during their deliberations how to deal with Wenlock Christison, which lasted for the space of two weeks, the sun in the firmament shone not, a thing at that season somewhat extraordinary; which gave occasion for some to say that the sun abhorring this bloody business, hid itself from them. But after many debates, the sanguinary council at length agreed, and Wenlock was brought to the bar, where the governor, John Endicot, asked him, what he had to say for himself, why he should not die? He answered, ‘I have done nothing worthy of death; if I have I refuse not to die.’ To this another said, ‘Thou art come in among us in rebellion, which is as the sin of witchcraft, and ought to be punished.’ Hence it appears how perversely these blood-thirsty persecutors applied the Holy Scriptures to their cruel ends, and so made a wrong use of the prophet Samuel’s words to Saul; to which false conclusion Wenlock answered, ‘I came not in among you in rebellion, but in obedience to the God of heaven, not in contempt to any of you, but in love to your souls and bodies; and that you shall know one day, when you and all men must give an account of the deeds done in the body. Take heed, (thus he went on,) for you cannot escape the righteous judgments of God.’ Then said major-general Adderton, ‘You pronounce woes and judgments, and those that are gone before you pronounced woes and judgments; but the judgments of the Lord God are not come upon us as yet.’ So insolent and hard-hearted may man become, as not to stick even to defy the Most High. But before we draw the curtains of this stage, we shall see the tragical end of this Adderton, who now received this answer from Wenlock: ‘Be not proud, neither let your spirits be lifted up: God doth but wait till the measure of your iniquity be filled up, and that you have run your ungodly race; then will the wrath of God come upon you to the uttermost. And as for thy part, it hangs over thy head, and is near to be poured down upon thee, and shall come as a thief in the night suddenly, when thou thinkest not of it.’

Then Wenlock asked, ‘By what law will you put me to death?’ The answer was, ‘We have a law, and by our law you are to die.’ ‘So said the Jews of Christ, (replied Wenlock,) We have a law, and by our law he ought to die. Who empowered you to make that law?’ To which one of the board answered, ‘we have a patent, and are the patentees; judge whether we have not power to make laws.’ Hereupon Wenlock asked again, ‘How! have you power to make laws repugnant to the laws of England?’ ‘No,’ said the governor. ‘Then, (replied Wenlock,) you are gone beyond your bounds, and have forfeited your patent; and that is more than you can answer. Are you, (asked he,) subjects to the king, yea, or nay?’ ‘What good will that do you,’ replied the secretary? ‘If you are, (answered Wenlock,) say so; for in your petition to the king, you desire that he would protect you, and that you may be worthy to kneel amongst his loyal subjects.’ To which one said, ‘Yea, we are so.’ ‘Well, (said Wenlock,) so am I, and for any thing I know, am as good as you, if not better; for if the king did but know your hearts as God knows them, he would see that you are as rotten towards him, as they are towards God. Therefore seeing that you and I are subjects to the king, I demand to be tried by the laws of my own nation.’ It was answered, ‘You shall be tried by a bench and a jury:’ for it seems they began to be afraid to go on in the former course of trial without a jury, this being contrary to the laws of England. But Wenlock said, ‘That is not the law, but the manner of it; for I never heard nor read of any law that was in England to hang Quakers.’ To this the governor replied, that there was a law to hang Jesuits. To which Wenlock returned. ‘If you put me to death, it is not because I go under the name of a Jesuit, but of a Quaker: therefore I appeal to the laws of my own nation.’ But instead of taking notice of this, one said, that he was in their hands, and had broken their law, and they would try him. Wenlock still appealed to the law of his own nation: yet the jury being called over, went out, but quickly returned, and brought him in guilty. Whereupon the secretary said, ‘Wenlock Christison, hold up your hand.’ ‘I will not,’ said Wenlock, ‘I am here and can hear thee.’ Then the secretary cried, ‘Guilty or not guilty?’ ‘I deny all guilt,’ replied Wenlock, ‘for my conscience is clear in the sight of God.’ But the governor said, ‘The jury hath condemned thee.’ Wenlock answered, ‘The Lord doth justify me; who art thou that condemnest?’

They then voted as to the sentence of death, but were in a manner confounded, for several could not vote him guilty of death. The governor seeing this division, said, ‘I could find in my heart to go home:’ being in such a rage, that he flung something furiously on the table; which made Wenlock cry, ‘It were better for thee to be at home than here, for thou art about a bloody piece of work.’ Then the governor put the court to vote again; but this was done confusedly, which so incensed the governor, that he stood up and said, ‘You that will not consent, record it: I thank God I am not afraid to give judgment.’ Thus we see that to be drunk with blood, doth not quench the thirst after blood; for Endicot the governor, seeing others backward to vote, precipitately pronounced judgment himself, and said, ‘Wenlock Christison, hearken to your sentence: You must return to the place from whence you came, and from thence to the place of execution, and there you must be hanged until you are dead, dead, dead.’ To which Wenlock said, ‘The will of the Lord be done, in whose will I came amongst you, and in whose counsel I stand, feeling his eternal power, that will uphold me unto the last gasp.’ Moreover he cried thus: ‘Known be it unto you all, that if ye have power to take my life from me, my soul shall enter into everlasting rest and peace with God, where you yourselves shall never come. And if ye have power to take my life from me, the which I do question, I do believe you shall never more take Quakers’ lives from them: note my words: do not think to weary out the living God, by taking away the lives of his servants. What do you gain by it? for the last man that you have put to death, here are five come in his room. And if ye have power to take my life from me, God can raise up the same principle of life in ten of his servants, and send them among you in my room, that you may have torment upon torment, which is your portion; for there is no peace to the wicked, saith my God.’ The holy confidence with which he uttered these words show, and the sequel made it appear plainly, that something supernatural was contained in them: and it is remarkable, that among the imprisoned Quakers, there were then several that had been banished on pain of death; and among these also Elizabeth Hooton; and Edward Wharton staid in his habitation contrary to his sentence of banishment.

Wenlock having received sentence of death, was brought to prison again, where having been detained five days, the marshal and a constable came to him with an order from the court for his enlargement with twenty-seven more of his friends, then in prison for their testimony to the Truth, saying they were ordered by the court to make him acquainted with their new law. ‘What means this?’ said Wenlock, ‘Have ye a new law?’ ‘Yes,’ said they. ‘Then ye have deceived most people,’ said Wenlock. ‘Why?’ said they. ‘Because,’ said he, ‘they did think the gallows had been your last weapon. Your magistrates said that your law was a good and wholesome law made for your peace, and the safeguard of your country. What, are your hands now become weak? The power of God is over you all.’

Thus the prison doors were opened, and Wenlock, with twenty-seven more of his friends, as aforesaid, set at liberty, save that two of them, viz. Peter Pearson and Judith Brown, being stripped to the waist, and fastened to a cart’s tail, were whipped through the town of Boston with twenty stripes apiece.

Now though not long after an order came from the king, as will be said anon, whereby these persecutors were charged to desist from putting the Quakers to death, yet is seems they had got some scent of the king’s displeasure, who had a mind to stop their bloody career: for having got a book written by George Bishop, containing a relation of the cruel persecution in New England, and reading a passage concerning major-general Denison, who, to put off those that complained of their wicked proceeding, said, ‘This year ye will go to complain to the parliament, and the next year they will send to see how it is; and the third year the government is changed.’ He took much notice of this, and calling to the lords to hear it, said, ‘Lo, these are my good subjects of New England: but I will put a stop to them.’

It was not long before an opportunity was offered; for the news of William Leddra’s death being come into England, with an information of the danger that others were in of going the same way, their friends took it so to heart, especially Edward Burrough, that having got audience of the king, he said to him there was a vein of innocent blood opened in his dominions, which if it were not stopped would overrun all. To which the king replied, ‘But I will stop that vein.’ Then Burrough desired him to do it speedily; ‘for we know not,’ said he, ‘how many may soon be put to death.’ The king answered, ‘As soon as you will. Call, said he to some present, the secretary, and I will do it presently.’ The secretary being come, a mandamus was forthwith granted. A day or two after, going again to the king, to desire despatch of the matter, the king said he had no occasion at present to send a ship thither; but if they would send one, they might do it as soon as they could. E. Burrough then asked the king if it would please him to grant his deputation to one called a Quaker, to carry the mandamus to New England. The king answered, ‘Yes, to whom you will.’ Whereupon E. Burrough named one Samuel Shattock, who being an inhabitant of New England, was banished on pain of death, if ever he returned thither. And the king accordingly granted the deputation to him, with full power to carry the mandamus, which was as followeth:

‘Charles R.

‘Trusty and well-beloved, we greet you well.—Having been informed that several of our subjects amongst you, called Quakers, have been, and are imprisoned by you, whereof some have been executed, and others, (as hath been represented unto us,) are in danger to undergo the like: we have thought fit to signify our pleasure in that behalf for the future; and do hereby require, that if there be any of those people called Quakers amongst you, now already condemned to suffer death, or other corporal punishment, or that are imprisoned, and obnoxious to the like condemnation, you are to forbear to proceed any further therein; but that you forthwith send the said persons, (whether condemned or imprisoned,) over into this our kingdom of England, together with the respective crimes or offences laid to their charge; to the end that such course may be taken with them here, as shall be agreeable to our laws, and their demerits. And for so doing, these our letters shall be your sufficient warrant and discharge.

‘Given at our court at Whitehall, the 9th day of September, 1661, in the 13th year of our reign.

By his majesty’s command, WILLIAM MORRIS.’

The superscription was:

To our trusty and well-beloved John Endicot, Esq. and to all and every other the governor, or governors of our plantations of New-England, and of all the colonies thereunto belonging; that now are, or hereafter shall be; and to all and every the ministers and officers of our said plantations and colonies whatsoever, within the continent of New England.

Thus favourable the king manifested himself; and in England persecution for religion was a little at a stand; but it was but a kind of respite. G. Fox the younger, a man of excellent qualifications, and great boldness, foresaw an imminent storm; and lest any carelessness might enter among his friends, in the Fourth month he wrote the following exhortation to them:

‘What my heavenly Father hath determined for these men to do, no man can stop it: O that patience might be abode in by all that know his name, and his will submitted unto by them that he hath called. O be still, strive not, but drink the cup which our Father suffereth to be given; I know it will be bitter to some; but whosoever striveth against it shall come to loss and shame: for the Lord will yet further try his people, till it be fully and clearly manifest who are the approved in his sight. This he will certainly do; therefore let not the present calm beget a wrong security in any, for lo the day hastens, and cometh swiftly, that another storm must arise; and in vain will it be to fly to the tall cedars and strong oaks for shelter; for nothing but the name of the Lord can preserve in that day.

GEORGE FOX, the younger.’

That this G. Fox did not reckon amiss, when in this exhortation he said the day hastens that another storm must arise, we shall see ere long: but first we must take a view of things in America.

This mandamus to the rulers of New England being obtained, as hath been said, quick despatch was thought necessary to send it thither. And Samuel Shattock being empowered by the king to carry it, an agreement was made with one Ralph Goldsmith, who was master of a good ship, and also one of those called Quakers, for three hundred pounds, (goods or no goods,) to sail in ten days. He then immediately made all things ready to set sail, and with a prosperous gale arrived in about six weeks time before the town of Boston in New England, upon a First-day of the week. The townsmen seeing a ship come into the bay with English colours, soon came on board, and asked for the captain. Ralph Goldsmith told them he was the commander. Then they asked him whether he had any letters; and he said ‘Yes.’ Whereupon they asked if he would deliver them; but he said, ‘No, not to-day.’ So they went ashore, and reported there was a ship full of Quakers, and that Samuel Shattock was among them, who they knew was by their law liable to be put to death, for coming in again after banishment: but they knew not his errand nor authority.

All being thus kept close, and none of the ship’s company suffered to go on shore that day, next morning Samuel Shattock, the king’s deputy, and Ralph Goldsmith, the commander of the vessel, went on shore; and sending the men that landed them back to the ship, they two went through the town to the governor John Endicot’s door, and knocked. He sending a man to know their business, they sent him word their business was from the king of England, and that they would deliver their message to none but the governor himself. Thereupon they were admitted to go in, and the governor came to them, and commanded Shattock’s hat to be taken off, and having received the deputation and the mandamus, he laid off his hat; and ordering Shattock’s hat to be given him again, he looked upon the papers, and then going out, went to the deputy-governor, and bid the king’s deputy and the master of the ship to follow him. Being come to the deputy-governor, and having consulted with him about the matter, he returned to the two aforesaid persons and said, ‘We shall obey his majesty’s command.’ After this, the master of the ship gave liberty to the passengers to come ashore, which they did, and met together with their friends of the town, to offer up praises to God for this wonderful deliverance.

Now for as much as several of their friends were yet in prison at Boston, the following order was given forth by the council not long after.

‘To William Salter, keeper of the prison at Boston.

‘You are required by authority, and order of the general court, forthwith to release and discharge the Quakers, who at present are in custody. See that you do not neglect this.

By order of the court, EDWARD RAWSON, Secretary.’

Boston, 9th Dec. 1661.

They then consulted what to do that they might not incur the king’s displeasure; and it was agreed to send a deputation to him. First, colonel Temple was sent to acquaint the king with their having set the Quakers at liberty; and he was followed not long after by the chief priest John Norton, and Simon Broadstreet, one of the magistrates.

The year was now spent: but before I conclude it I must take notice, as a pregnant instance of the marvellous vicissitude of mundane affairs, that in the forepart of this year, the body of O. Cromwell, which had been buried with great state in Westminster Abbey, was digged up, as were also the bodies of Bradshaw and Ireton, which three corpses were carried in carts to Tyburn, and there hanged on the gallows. Then the executioner chopped off the heads, stamped with his foot on the bodies, which were tumbled into a pit, dug near the gallows; and the heads were exposed on the top of Westminster Hall, where I remember to have seen them. And that now befel Cromwell which he said about seven years before in his speech to the parliament, as hath been mentioned in its due place, viz. That he would rather be rolled into the grave, and buried with infamy, than give his consent to the throwing away one of the fundamentals of that government, to wit, liberty of conscience. And yet he suffered persecution to go on, as hath been related at large: but now, according to his saying, he was rolled with infamy into the grave; which may serve indeed for a remarkable instance of the justice and equal judgments of God.

About this time a book came out at London, bearing the title of Semper Idem, [i. e. Always the same,] or a Parallel of fanatics. The author concealed his name; but he made it appear sufficiently that he was a Papist, and it may be a jesuit: for he inveighed not only against the Quakers and Baptists, but also against the Presbyterians, and even Episcopalians, and consequently against all Protestants. Nay, the martyrs that were burnt in the bloody reign of queen Mary, eldest daughter to king Henry the Eighth, were no less vilified than the Quakers, in the said book, by the scornful name of rebels, and fanatics. This book was sold publicly, and it seemed that none durst oppose it, for fear of displeasing the court. But E. Burrough, who was of an undaunted courage, and so continued till his death, employed his pen to refute it, and gave forth his answer in print, plainly showing what the anonymous author aimed at, viz. That he would have the cruel usage of fire and faggots revived, and wished to see the burning of reputed heretics brought again into vogue. Which was the more to be taken notice of, because such a publication of vilifying the martyrs with calumnies, had not been seen at London for above an hundred years; and all the groundless positions of the said author were very notably answered by the said E. Burrough.

And since persecution in the latter end of this year began to appear with open face again, he published a book, which he called Antichrist’s government justly detected. This he dedicated to all the rulers, &c. in the (so called) Christian world; and therein, with sound arguments, manifested the unlawfulness and injustice of persecution, and from whence it had its rise; and how dangerous it was to impose religion.

Next he treated at large concerning heresy, and what punishment pertained to such as are truly convicted of it. But lest any might think that he was for opposing the duty of the civil magistrate against malefactors, he said concerning the punishment of heresy, (which he stated to be only an ecclesiastical censure,) that he only intended this, where the error of a man and his heresy in his mind and judgment, did only extend to the hurt of his own soul, and against God, and not to the harm of his neighbour’s person or estate. But, thus continued he, if his error and heresy do extend further than only against God and his own soul, even to outward wrongs, or evils, or violence, or visible mischiefs committed, as murders, or other the like crimes against men, to the injuring of others, then I forbid not outward external punishment, to be corporally inflicted upon the person and estate of such a man; but it ought to be done, and that by the laws of men, provided for the same end; even such a man’s error, in such his wrong dealing, may justly and lawfully be punished with death, banishment or penalties, according to the desert of the crime, &c. The author also wrote circumstantially concerning the government of antichrist, and showed the deceit that was in it, and who were the subjects of his kingdom.

It was somewhat before this time that George Fox the younger, being a prisoner, and seeing an intent of promoting popery, wrote the following letter to the king:

‘The King of kings hath beheld, yea, the King of kings hath seen even all thy actings in the dark, and he hath traced thy walkings in obscure places; and thou hast not hid thy counsels from the almighty, but he hath seen all the intents of thy heart, and thy good words have not at all deceived him, nor those that purely stood in his counsels; for he hath seen the snares, and beheld the pits which privily have been preparing for the innocent, (even in the time when smooth words have been given,) and he hath showed them unto others. Oh that thou wouldst have taken counsel of the Lord, and obeyed the same! thou shouldest have been prospered; but thou hast taken counsel of them which have caused thee to err: thou hast also sought to exalt and establish thyself, and thy own honour, and not the truth and honour of God only; which if thou hadst truly done, (in the self-denial,) God would have honoured thee: thou hast not taken the Lord for thy strength and stay, but thou hast leaned to that which cannot help thee, even to that which will prove a broken reed unto thee, if thou comest to prove its strength. Thou hast greatly dishonoured and grieved the Lord, by thy setting up ministers which he loathes, and by thy providing a forced maintenance for them by an unjust law, that so they may yet make a prey upon his people, who for conscience-sake cannot put into their mouths, being spiritually gathered therefrom by the word of the Lord. Thou hast also grieved the Spirit of the Lord, in that thou hast not put a difference betwixt that which the Spirit of the Lord moved, and that which is moved by the evil lusts of men; and hereby thou hast justified that which God hath condemned, and condemned that which he hath justified, and will justify in the sight of his enemies. O, friend, it is not the person of any man which the Lord regards, but it is righteousness which he hath respect to, and so far as man, (whatever he may be,) by the drawing of the Truth comes into righteousness, and acts therein, so far hath the Lord unity with him, and no further: these things should have been considered by thee. Thou hast also grieved the Holy Ghost by the suffering all these wicked and profane shows and sports, which have abounded since thy coming in, by which the Lord’s good creatures have been abused, wasted, and devoured. Thou hast highly displeased the Lord God, by thy suffering persecution to be acted in thy name, even whilst thou in words hast promised liberty; yea, many are this day in holes and prisons, for the testimony of a good conscience, and obeying the doctrine of Christ. Oh! the Lord is grieved with the pride and wickedness that is lived in, both in thy family and dominions, and thou thyself hast not been such a pattern and example amongst them as thou oughtest to have been. O, friend! when I behold the wickedness, cruelty, and oppression, that abounds in this nation in open view, and also the secret abominations which are committed, and are plotting and lurking in the chambers; verily my life is even bowed down because of the fierce wrath of the Almighty, which I see is kindled; and because of the great destruction which I see attends the wicked, whose ends and counsels the Lord will frustrate, and upon whom he will pour out everlasting contempt. Yea, and it hath been oft in me, before thou camest last into the land, and also since, even when it hath been shown me, what idolatry is intended in secret to be brought in, that certainly it had been better for thee that thou hadst never come, for I have seen it tending to thy destruction. And when I have seen the abomination and cruelties which are committed and intended, there hath a pity arose in me towards thee for thy soul’s sake; and it hath been my desire, if it might stand with the will of God, that he would put it into thy heart to go out of the land again, that so thy life might be preserved, and that thou mightest have time to repent; for although many men flatter and applaud thee for self ends, yet I see the Lord is displeased with thy ways. Let no man deceive thee by feigned words; God will not be mocked: such as thou sowest, such must thou reap. Thou canst not hide thyself from the Lord, nor deliver thyself from the stroke of his hand: O consider how soon hath the Lord taken away thy brother, who, according to outward appearance, might have lived longer than thee! O, think not that men can preserve thee, though all the nations about promise to help thee! Yet when the Lord appears against thee, thou must fall; verily there is a great desolation near, thy hand cannot stay it; God hath decreed that he may exalt his own kingdom: the nations are like a boiling pot, a little flame will set them on fire; and the windy doctrine of the priests shall help to kindle it; oh the day will be terrible, who may abide it? The stubble will be consumed, and the chaff shall be burned; the ungodly shall be abased, for they cannot stand in judgment; but the seed shall be exalted. O what shall I say that might be for thy safety? Verily I can say little; the Lord’s decree must stand, the Lord is highly displeased, and his wrath is near to be revealed: and he is swift in his goings, and he will shorten the days of his enemies for his elect’s sake. O that thy soul might be saved in the day of the Lord! my spirit is in suffering for thee, my soul is afflicted within me because of the approachings of the day of thy calamity, from which no man can deliver thee. This is the Truth that must stand, and in love to thy soul it is declared, by him who must deal uprightly with all men: though for it I suffer outwardly, yet I have a witness in thy conscience, unto which I am made manifest; and peace with the Lord is my portion, which is better than an earthly crown.

GEORGE FOX, the younger.’

This was given him the 9th day of the Eighth month, 1660.

This letter, (a clear evidence of the author’s innocent courage,) was delivered to the king, who read it, and seemed to be reached thereby, and touched at heart: but his brother, the duke of York, was displeased with it, and being violently set against the author, advised the king to use severity towards him; but the king being good-natured, said, ‘It were better for us to mend our lives.’

Whilst the said G. Fox was prisoner in Lambeth-house, he wrote also a small treatise, called, ‘England’s sad Estate and Condition lamented.’ Herein he reproved the grievous abominations committed among the inhabitants, oppression by persecution, and the hypocrisy of the priests. He also predicted the pestilence, as may be mentioned hereafter in due place; and signified not obscurely, that endeavours would be used publicly to introduce superstition and idolatry; but that those who intended to do so, should be frustrated by the Lord in their attempts. And that others, whose worship also did displease the Lord, should grind and waste one another: but that beyond their expectation, he would pluck out from them, and preserve a holy seed. And that after he should have executed his vengeance upon the rebellious and treacherous dealers, he would then bring forth the remnant of his holy seed, which should be preserved from their fury; and then they should spread over all, and stand in dominion. ‘But,’ thus continued he, ‘although these things, touching the holy remnant, shall certainly be fulfilled in their season, yet before they will be fully accomplished, great will be the trials of many of the righteous, and there will be great judgments executed in thee, O land, by him, who ofttimes maketh a fruitful land barren, because of the wickedness of them that dwell therein.’ This, and much more he wrote, and published it in print. Several of his predictions we have seen fulfilled, as in the progress of this history may appear: and this last we must refer to time. After the writing of this treatise, he also gave forth the following prayer.

‘Surely it was thou, O Lord, that gave bounds unto the sea, that the floods thereof could not overwhelm thy chosen: thou canst let forth the winds, and suffer a storm; and thou canst make a calm when thou pleasest. Have thou the glory of all, thou King of saints, thou Saviour of Israel. Thou canst do whatever thou pleasest, therefore will we trust in thy name, neither will we fear what men can do unto us, because thou wilt not forsake us; but thou wilt plead our cause in the sight of our adversaries, and they shall know that thou art our God, who art able to save to the uttermost. O Lord, our righteousness, we will praise thy name; for thy mercies endure for ever. Our eyes, O God, are unto thee, for we have no other helper. Our faith, O Lord, standeth in thee, who canst not forget thy people. Thou hast revealed and brought up Jacob, who wrestleth with thee, and prevaileth as a prince, therefore must the blessing come. O Lord, the birth, the birth, crieth unto thee, thy own elect, which long hath been oppressed. Thou canst not deny thyself, therefore have we faith, and hope, which maketh not ashamed. O Lord, how unsearchable are thy ways! Thou hast even amazed thy people with the depth of thy wisdom; thou alone wilt have the glory of their deliverance; and therefore hast thou suffered these things to come to pass. O Lord, thou art righteous in all thy judgments: only preserve thy people which thou hast gathered, and wilt gather unto thyself, in the day of trial; that so they may sing of thy power, and magnify thy name in the land of the living.’

This G. Fox wrote also in prison several other papers and epistles, for exhortation and consolation of his friends: but his work was soon done, so that not long after he departed this life, which was in this, or the next year. He was, as may be seen from his writings, a man of extraordinary resignation and courage; and that he gave up his life, if required, may appear from a small book that he wrote, being prisoner in Lambeth-house, which he called, ‘The Dread of God’s Power uttering its Voice through Man, unto the Heads of the Nation.’ Herein he exhorted the rulers very earnestly to do justice; and said amongst the rest, ‘Friends, I must deal plainly with you in the sight of God, who hath made me a prophet to the nation. I may not flatter any of you. My life is in the hand of my Maker, and not one hair of my head can fall to the ground without his providence. He hath redeemed my soul from hell, and my mind from the earth; and he hath given me his good Spirit to lead me. I am henceforth no more my own, but I am the Lord’s, who hath formed me to his praise, and hath brought me forth, that I may sound forth his powerful Truth amongst the people. Therefore must I not fear man, neither must I be afraid of the sons of men.’

Thus undaunted he showed himself: but it was not long before he made his exit, of which I cannot but say something. In his sickness I find, that though he was weak in body, yet he was strong in spirit, so that he would sing for joy of heart. He exhorted his friends to keep in unity, foreseeing, it may be, that something would rise which might give occasion for division: and then with much fervency of spirit, he prayed God, and exhorted his friends, to keep their garments unspotted of the world, because great was the day of trial that was at hand. Afterwards recommending them to the Lord, he took his leave of them, and slept in perfect peace with the Lord, being of sound memory to the last. Now the dust was returned to the earth, and the spirit unto God who gave it. Thus he was freed of all danger of losing the crown of immortal life, which man by temptation, and the casualties of this life, is liable unto, if he continueth not diligently watchful. But this valiant was now beyond the reach of all temptations, and so I leave him, that I may pass on to other matters.

In this year E. Burrough wrote a paper to the king and his council, which he called, ‘A just and Righteous Plea,’ in which he proposed at large, the reasons why the people called Quakers, refused to take the oath of allegiance, viz. That it was not because they would not be faithful to the king, but only for conscience-sake, since Christ so expressly had commanded his followers, “Swear not at all,” which command they durst not transgress. Yet to assure the government of their faithfulness, he said thus:

‘We are now, and shall be faithful, innocent, and peaceable, in our several stations and conditions, under this present government of king Charles the Second, whom we acknowledge supreme magistrate and governor over this kingdom; and for conscience-sake we are obedient and submissive to him, as such, in all his commands, either by doing and performing of what he justly requireth, or by patient suffering under whatsoever is inflicted upon us, in the matters for which we cannot be obedient for conscience-sake, when any thing is required of us different from the just law of God. And to this subjection to the king and his government, we are bound by the law of righteousness; and such hath ever been our principle and practice, and is unto this day, even to be quiet, and peaceable, and patient, under every authority that is set over us; and not in unrighteousness, to plot, or contrive, or rebel, against any government, or governors, nor to seek our own deliverance from injustice and oppression in such a way. And we are persuaded to seek the preservation of the king’s person and authority, by all just and lawful means, and not to rebel against him with carnal weapons; and so far as his government is in justice, mercy, and righteousness, we declare true and faithful subjection and obedience thereunto; and wherein it is otherwise, we shall be subject by patient suffering what is unequally imposed upon us, and yet not rebel in any turbulent way of conspiracies and insurrections: for our principles are not for war, but for peace with all men so much as in us lies; neither may we render evil for evil to any, but are to be subject to the king and his government, actively or passively, upon the conditions aforementioned.

‘And we renounce all foreign authority, power, and jurisdiction of the pope, or any else, from having any supremacy whatsoever over the king, or any the good subjects of England. And this we declare, acknowledge, and testify, in the fear and presence of God, (to whom we and all mankind must give an account,) and that without secret equivocation, or any deceitful mental reservation.’

Thus fully E. Burrough declared himself, and gave also a circumstantial relation of the practice of his friends meeting together, or their way of public worship, thereby to assure the government of their peaceable behaviour and fidelity. But all this proved in vain; for it being well known that the Quakers denied swearing, they continually were vexed and persecuted, under a pretence of not giving due satisfaction of their being faithful to the government, and so transgressing the laws.

Now the deputies of New England came to London, and endeavoured to clear themselves as much as possible, but especially priest Norton, who bowed no less reverently before the archbishop, than before the king; and thus fawning upon the Episcopalians, they found means to keep in a condition to vex the Quakers, so called, though they were forbidden to put them to death: and that many of the bishops were great enemies to the said Quakers, appeared plainly from the cruel persecution which after a short calm arose in England.

But to return to the New England deputies, they would fain have altogether excused themselves: and priest Norton thought it sufficient to say, that he did not assist in the bloody trial, nor had advised to it: but John Copeland, whose ear was cut off at Boston, charged the contrary upon him: and G. Fox, the elder, got occasion to speak with them in the presence of some of his friends; and asked Simon Broadstreet, one of the New England magistrates, whether he had not a hand in putting to death, those they nick-named Quakers? He not being able to deny this, confessed he had. Then G. Fox asked him and his associates that were present, whether they would acknowledge themselves to be subjects to the laws of England; and if they did, by what laws they put his friends to death? They answered, they were subjects to the laws of England; and they had put his friends to death by the same law, as the Jesuits were put to death in England. Hereupon G. Fox asked, whether they did believe that those his friends, whom they had put to death, were Jesuits, or jesuitically affected? They said, ‘Nay.’ Then replied G. Fox, ‘Ye have murdered them; for since ye put them to death by the law that Jesuits are put to death here in England, it plainly appears, you have put them to death arbitrarily, without any law.’ Thus Broadstreet finding himself and his company ensnared by their own words, asked, ‘Are you come to catch us?’ But he told them, they had catched themselves, and they might justly be questioned for their lives; and if the father of William Robinson, (one of those that were put to death,) were in town, it was probable he would question them, and bring their lives into jeopardy: for he not being of the Quakers’ persuasion, would perhaps not have so much regard to the point of forbearance, as they had. Broadstreet seeing himself thus in danger, began to flinch and to sculk; for some of the old royalists were earnest with the Quakers to prosecute the New England persecutors. But G. Fox and his friends said, they left them to the Lord, to whom vengeance belonged, and he would repay it. Broadstreet however, not thinking it safe to stay in England, left the city, and with his companions went back again to New England.

Not long before this time, G. Fox, with the help of John Stubbs and Benjamin Furly, published a book called, ‘A Battledoor.’ In this book were set forth examples of about thirty languages, to show that every language had its particular denomination for the singular and the plural number, in speaking to persons; and in every place where the description began, the shape of a battledoor was delineated. This work was promoted to public view by G. Fox, to show the learned, (if possible to convince them,) that the custom of those called Quakers, to say Thou to a single person, though it were to the king, and not You, was not irregular nor absurd, but had been used anciently; and that therefore they could not justly be charged with unmannerliness, because they followed not the common custom, which was crept in by the pride of men. Now though Ger. Croese doth disapprove in G. Fox, that he put his name to this book as well as J. Stubbs and B. Furly, yet I do not think it so improper as the said author doth; for G. Fox was a great promoter of that work; and though he was not skilled in languages, and some were for calling him an idiot, or a fool, yet I know him to have been a man of good understanding, and of deep judgment. In his journal he freely owns, that John Stubbs and Benjamin Furly took great pains in the compiling of the said book, which he put them upon, and added also some things to it; so that in some respect he might be esteemed author too. At the end of the book he added:

‘The pope set up [You] to [One] in his pride, and it is pride which cannot bear Thou and Thee to one, but would have You, from the author of and their father in their pride, which must not have the word Thou, which was before their father the pope was, which was God’s language, and will stand when the pope is ended.

G. F.’

This book, (in which J. Stubbs and B. Furly gave also directions for learners to read the Hebrew, Oriental, and other languages,) was liberally disposed of; some of them were presented to the king and his council, to the archbishop of Canterbury, and to the bishop of London, and also one to each university. The king confessed that the distinction between plural and singular, in regard of persons, was the proper language of all nations; and the archbishop being asked what he thought of it, was so at a stand, that he could not tell what to say to it; for it appears he would not commend it, neither could he resolve to disapprove it. Yet it did so inform and convince people, that many afterward were not near so much offended at saying Thou and Thee to a single person, as they were before.

Now many Papists and Jesuits began to fawn upon those called Quakers, and said publicly, that of all the sects the Quakers were the best, and most self-denying people; and that it was great pity that they did not return to the holy mother church: and though they might have been in hopes thereby to have gained proselytes from the Quakers, yet they were disappointed. In the meanwhile they did but ill service to the Quakers thereby; for this gave occasion to their enemies to divulge, that there was an affinity and collusion between the Quakers and the Papists. Some Jesuits signifying that they would willingly discourse with the Quakers, G. Fox consented to it, and in order thereunto, time and place were appointed: whereupon two of the loyalists came, being dressed like courtiers, and they asked the names of G. Fox and those with him. G. Fox then asked them the same question he had once before, as hath been said already, asked a Jesuit, viz. whether the church of Rome was not degenerated from the church in the primitive times; from the spirit, and power, and practice, that they were in, in the apostles’ time. The Jesuit to whom the question was put, said he would not answer it. G. Fox asked him, why? but he would give no reason. His companion then said they were not degenerated from the church in the primitive times. Then G. Fox asked the other, whether he was of the same mind; and he said, ‘Yes.’ G. Fox, to give no room to any excuses of a mistake, repeated his question thus: Whether the church of Rome now was in the same purity, practice, power, and spirit, that the church in the apostles’ time was in. The Jesuits seeing how exact G. Fox would be with them, said it was presumption in any to say, they had the same power and spirit, which the apostles had. But G. Fox, told them, it was presumption in them to meddle with the words of Christ and his apostles, and make people believe they succeeded the apostles, and yet be forced to confess, they were not in the same power and spirit, that the apostles were in. ‘This,’ said he, ‘is a spirit of presumption, and rebuked by the apostles’ spirit.’ Thereupon he showed them how different their fruits and practices were, from the fruits and practices of the apostles. This so displeased the Jesuits, that one of them said, ‘Ye are a company of dreamers.’ ‘Nay,’ said G. Fox, ‘ye are the dreamers, who dream ye are the apostles successors, and yet confess, ye have not the same power and spirit, which the apostles were in.’ Then he began to tell them also, how they were led by an evil spirit; and that this spirit had induced them to pray by beads, and to images, and to put people to death for religion. He spoke yet more; but the Jesuits soon grew weary of this discourse, and went away, giving charge afterwards to those of their persuasion, not to dispute with the Quakers, nor to read any of their books.

Sometime after G. Fox went to Colchester, where he had very large meetings. From thence he went to Coggeshall; not far from which there was a priest convinced of the truth of the doctrine held forth by him and his friends; and he had a meeting in his house. And after having visited his friends in their meetings thereabouts, he returned to London, where he found more work: for John Perrot, of whom mention hath been made already that he was at Rome, had so far complied with his vain imaginations, that he thought himself further enlightened than G. Fox, and his friends; and from this presumption he would not approve, that when any one prayed in the meeting, others should put off their hats, calling this a formality, and a common custom of the world, which ought to be departed from. And since novelties often draw people after them, so it was in this case, insomuch that he got a pretty many adherents. But he did not stand here; for as one error proceeds from another, so he made another extravagant step, and let his beard grow; in which he was followed by some. In the meanwhile G. Fox laboured both by word and writing, to stop his progress: and though most of his friends also bore testimony against it, yet there passed several years before this strange fire was altogether extinguished: to the quenching whereof, it contributed not a little that Perrot, who now walked in an erroneous path, grew worse from time to time, even to that degree, that being come into America, he fell into manifest sensualities, and works of the flesh: for he not only wore gaudy apparel, but also a sword; and being got into some place in the government, he became a severe exactor of oaths, whereas before he had professed that for conscience-sake he could not swear. Before I leave Perrot, I will insert here a letter wrote by him from Rome, when he was released from prison: and though I believe he was then in a better state than afterward, yet in that letter some sparks of spiritual pride may be seen, which though then under some limitation, yet in process of time so broke forth, that it caused his fall. The letter was thus:

‘O Israel: the host of the most high God; his majesty hath fulfilled to me the vision of my head, having showed himself to be the Holy One, and Just: he hath lately delivered me from the prison of the city of Rome, besides the two lambs with me, whose faces, through God, are turned to you-wards: for which I beseech you in the holy spirit of meekness, to bless the name of the Lord God. Give thanks to him for his power. The God of life promote you all in the virtue of his mercy and forgiveness, and keep you in the power of his everlasting love, unto the end.

JOHN.’

Written to you all without the gates of Rome, the 2d day of the Fourth month, 1661.

Send this forward and read my life in your meetings.

He added not his sirname, in imitation, as it seems, of the apostle John. He omitted it likewise in another letter he wrote from the prison at Rome, which began thus:

‘I John the prisoner, being in the sense of the spirit of life with you all,’ &c.

Who were the two lambs he mentions in his letter, I cannot tell; whether they were persons that had been imprisoned with him in the inquisition jail, and converted by him, as he thought; or whether he meant John Stubbs and Samuel Fisher, I know not; it may rather be supposed that he meant Charles Bayley and Jane Stoakes, who went to Rome to procure his liberty: but J. Stubbs and S. Fisher came away long before; yet if I am not mistaken, it was about this time that these were at Rome, and they perhaps, having endeavoured to obtain his liberty, departed before him towards England.

When Perrot afterward lived in America, about the beginning of the year 1665, John Taylor wrote thus from Jamaica concerning him:

‘One of the judges of this place told me, that he never had seen one who so severely exacted an oath from people as John Perrot did; for he saith, that if they will go to hell, he will despatch them quickly. And another judge that was also present, said, that Perrot had altogether renounced his faith, and aimed at nothing but his profit.’

Such a one was John Perrot, though even some wise men admired him for a time; but he became a man of a rough behaviour. Whether he ever repented sincerely, I cannot tell. Robert Rich, who took too much part in the extravagancies of James Nayler, as hath been related, did also combine with Perrot, and became estranged from the Quakers, and in that condition he died: but he was of the number of those, of whom the apostle John said, “They went out from us, but they were not of us.”

Now since persecution continued in England, Edward Burrough, who continually was laborious with the pen to oppose this evil, wrote also a small book, which he called, ‘The Case of Free Liberty of Conscience in the Exercise of Faith and Religion, presented unto the King and both Houses of Parliament.’ In this treatise he showed, that to deprive honest and peaceable people of liberty of conscience in the exercise of worship to God, was unjust, an intrenching on God’s sovereignty, and an usurpation of his authority. He also recommended it to consideration, that to impose by force a religion upon men, was the way to fill the land with hypocrites. And he showed with sound reasons, that to persecute people for the exercise of religion and their worshipping of God, must unavoidably tend to destroy trading, husbandry, and merchandise. To which he added, that such as were called heretics were punished, as malefactors, whereas drunkards and other vicious persons were left unpunished; which to inculcate with more strength, he made use of the words of Dr. Taylor, a bishop in Ireland, who said thus: ‘Why are we so zealous against those we call heretics, and yet great friends with drunkards, and swearers, and fornicators, and intemperate and idle persons? I am certain a drunkard is as contrary to the laws of Christianity as an heretic: and I am also sure that I know what drunkenness is; but I am not so sure that such an opinion is heresy,’ &c.

It happened about this time in England that some covetous persons, to engross inheritances to themselves, would call the marriages of those called Quakers in question. And it was in this year that such a cause was tried at the assizes at Nottingham. A certain man dying, and leaving his wife with child, and an estate in copyhold lands: when the woman was delivered, one that was near of kin to her deceased husband, endeavoured to prove the child illegitimate: and the plaintiff’s counsel willing to blacken the Quakers, so called, asserted the child to be illegitimate, because the marriage of its parents was not according to law; and said bluntly, and very indecently, that the Quakers went together like brute beasts. After the counsel on both sides had pleaded, the judge whose name was Archer, opened the case to the jury, and told them, that there was a marriage in Paradise, when Adam took Eve, and Eve took Adam; and that it was the consent of the parties that made a marriage. And as for the Quakers, said he, he did not know their opinion; but he did not believe they went together as brute beasts, as had been said of them, but as Christians; and therefore he did believe the marriage was lawful, and the child lawful heir. And the better to satisfy the jury, he related to them this case: ‘A man that was weak of body, and kept his bed, had a desire in that condition to marry, and did declare before witnesses that he did take such a woman to be his wife; and the woman declared, that she took that man to be her husband. This marriage was afterwards called in question: but all the bishops did at that time conclude it to be a lawful marriage.’ The jury having received this instruction, gave in their verdict for the child, and declared it legitimate.

It hath been mentioned before, that G. Fox being prisoner at Derby, in the year 1650, was exceedingly vexed and ill treated by the keeper of the prison. But this man being struck with the terrors of the Lord, became such a notable convert, that in the year 1662, he wrote the following letter to G. Fox:

‘Dear Friend,

‘Having such a convenient messenger, I could do no less than give thee an account of my present condition, remembering that to the first awakening of me to a sense of life, and of the inward principle, God was pleased to make use of thee as an instrument; so that sometimes I am taken with admiration, that it should come by such means as it did; that is say, that Providence should order thee to be my prisoner, to give me my first real sight of the Truth. It makes me many times to think of the jailer’s conversion by the apostles. Notwithstanding my outward losses are since that time such, that I am become nothing in the world, yet I hope I shall find, that all these light afflictions, which are but for a moment, will work for me a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory. They have taken all from me; and now instead of keeping a prison, I am rather waiting when I shall become a prisoner myself. Pray for me, that my faith fail not, but that I may hold out to the death, that I may receive a crown of life. I earnestly desire to hear from thee, and of thy condition, which would very much rejoice me. Not having else at present, but my kind love unto thee, and all Christian friends with thee, in haste I rest

Thine in Christ Jesus, THOMAS SHARMAN.’

Derby, the 22d of the Fourth month, 1662.

I have heretofore made some mention of the imprisonment of Catharine Evans, and Sarah Cheevers, by the inquisition at Malta. It was about this time that they were released: for G. Fox and Gilbert Latey, having understood that the lord d’Aubigny could procure their liberty, went to him, and having informed him concerning their imprisonment, desired him to write to those in authority at Malta for their release. This he promised to do, and told them if they would come again within a month, perhaps they might hear of their discharge. They went again to him about that time, but he said he thought his letters had miscarried; yet he promised he would write again, and so he did; which had such effect, that the said two women were discharged of their long imprisonment. G. Fox had now opportunity to reason with this lord, (who was a Roman Catholic priest in orders,) about religion, and he brought him to confess that Christ had enlightened every man that cometh into the world with his spiritual light; and that he had tasted death for every man; and that the grace of God, which brings salvation, hath appeared to all men; and that it would teach them, and bring their salvation if they did obey it. Then G. Fox asked him what the Romanists would do with all their relics and images, if they did own and believe in this light, and receive the grace to teach them, and bring their salvation? And he answered, those things were but policies to keep people in subjection.

But leaving these discourses, I will now give a clear and circumstantial relation of the imprisonment of the forementioned Catharine Evans, and Sarah Cheevers, chiefly collected from letters and papers, written by them in prison, and sent from thence to England, where they were published in print, not long after their return, in the year 1662.

In the year 1658, these women having drawings in their mind to travel towards Alexandria, went in a ship from England to Leghorn in Italy, and having been thirty-one days between Plymouth and Leghorn, they at length safely landed at that city: where they found some of their countrymen and friends, and stayed there several days, dispersing many books when occasion offered. They spoke also with people of various degrees, without being molested by any. From thence they got passage in a Dutch ship bound for Alexandria, or Scanderoon; but the master of the ship being in company with another ship going to Malta, went also thither, though he had no business in the place: but before they came there, Catharine fell into such an anguish of mind, that she cried out, ‘Oh! we have a dreadful cup to drink at that place!’ Being come into the harbour, and standing on the deck of the ship, and looking upon the people who stood on the walls, she said in her heart, ‘Shall ye destroy us? If we give up to the Lord, then he is sufficient to deliver us out of your hands: but if we disobey our God, all these could not deliver us out of his hand.’ And so all fear of man was taken from them.

The next day, being the First-day of the week, they went on shore, where the English consul met them, and asked them what they came there for; they answered what they thought convenient, and gave him some books. Then he told them there was an inquisition; and kindly inviting them to his house, said all that he had was at their service while they were there. They accepting of this invitation, went thither, and many came to see them, whom they called to repentance, so that several became tender. About night they went on ship-board, and the next day came again into the city, and going to the governor he told them he had a sister in the nunnery, who desired to see them. Thereupon they went to the nunnery, and talked with the nuns, and gave them books: and one of their priests, who brought them into the chapel, would have them bow to the high altar, but they refused, being grieved because of the idolatry committed there, and went to the consul’s again, where they staid some weeks. During that time they once went into one of the places of worship in the time of worship; and Catharine standing in the midst of the people, turned her back to the high altar, and kneeling down, she lifted up her voice in prayer to the Lord. The priest that officiated, put off his surplice, and kneeled near her till she had done. Then he reached forth his hand to them to come to him, and offered her a token, which she taking to be the mark of the beast, refused. Thereupon he put the piece into Sarah’s hand, but she gave it him again, and showed him her purse that she had to give, if any had need, and as yet was in no want. He then asked if they were Calvinists or Lutherans? And they answered, ‘Nay.’ He asked if they would go to Rome to the pope. They denying this, he asked if they were Catholics; to which they said they were true Christians, servants of the living God. But since they had yet learned but little of the language spoken there, they expressed themselves very defectively; what they did was partly in words and partly by signs, as well as they could: and many that came about them were amazed: however at last they departed peaceably. Some time after they went again to a mass-house, where the sacrament, as they call it, was administered: there were many lights, and great costliness and fineries; and being grieved because of their idolatry, they stood about three quarters of an hour, weeping and trembling, especially Catharine: and this so struck the congregation with amazement, that some removed further from them for fear. At length they both went out, but yet under such a trembling, that they went along the street reeling and staggering, so that they became a wonder to all that saw them.

They were about three months at the house of the English consul; and he, for that reason, being under a suspicion, did not what he might have done to save them; but in some respect he delivered them up to the inquisition, though by his oath he was obliged to protect the English there. In the meanwhile he kept them in his house, and suffered them not to go abroad, though the governor had told him he might let them go about their business; ‘For,’ said he, ‘they are honest women.’ The consul might also have let them go free, before they came under the power of the black rod. Now they perceiving that something to their prejudice was in agitation, and making account already that a prison would be their lot, they signified that they suspected him, and told him that Pilate would do the Jews a service, and yet wash his hands in innocency. He being at a loss, required a sign of them, if they were the messengers of God. And they gave him to understand, that this might serve for a sign: that it would be well with them; but that it should not go off well with him.

Afterwards it happened that they were sent for by the inquisition: and that day the consul’s wife brought them some victuals; but as she passed by, Catharine was smitten, as with an arrow, to the heart, and she seemed to hear a voice, saying, ‘She hath obtained her purpose.’ Then Catharine would not taste of the meat, but went aside, and wept exceedingly. The consul having called her, told her, the inquisition had sent for them, having received letters from Rome, but that he did hope they should be set free; which however was not true, for he knew, (as they understood afterwards,) there was a room prepared for them in the prison of the inquisition. Neither was it long ere there came the chancellor, the consul, and one with the black rod, who brought them before the lord inquisitor; and he asked them whether they had changed their minds; for it seems that had been required of them before. But they answered, ‘No,’ and that they should not change from the Truth. Then he asked what new light it was they talked of; they answered it was no new light, but the same the prophets and apostles bore testimony to. Next he asked how this light came to be lost since the primitive times; they replied, it was not lost; men had it still in them, but they did not know it, by reason that the night of apostacy had overspread the nations. Then he said, if they would change their minds, and do as they would have them, they should say so, or else they would use them as they pleased. But they, signifying that they would not change, said, ‘The will of the Lord be done.’ He then arose, and went away with the consul, leaving them there: and the man with the black rod, and the keeper, took and put them into an inner room in the inquisition, which had only two little holes in it for light and air. This place was so exceeding hot, that it seemed as if their intent was to stifle them, as we may see in the sequel.

Not long after they were brought before the inquisitors to be further examined, and they not only asked their names, but also the names of their husbands and parents, and what children they had, and also why they came thither? To which they answered, they were servants of the living God, come there to call them to repentance. The next day they were called again, but then examined asunder; and Sarah being asked whether she was a true Catholic, said, that she was a true Christian, worshipping God in Spirit and in Truth. Then they held forth a crucifix to her, and would have her swear that she should speak the truth. To which she said, she should speak the truth, but she would not swear; for Christ had commanded, “Swear not at all.” The English consul who was present, endeavoured to persuade her to swear, and said that none should do her any harm. She having some books with her, they were taken from her; and they asked her, wherefore she brought those books; to which she answered, because they could not speak their language. Then they asked her, what George Fox was? She answered, ‘A minister.’ Further they asked, wherefore she came thither? And she replied, to do the will of God as she was moved of the Lord. The next question was, how the Lord did appear unto her: to which she answered, ‘By his Spirit.’ And being asked whether she did see his presence, and hear his voice, her answer was, she heard his voice, and saw his presence. They then asked what he said to her? She answered, that he required of her to go over the seas to do his will. This made them ask how she knew it was the Lord who required this of her? To which she answered, that since he had signified to her, that his living presence should go along with her, she found him to perform his promise, for she did feel his living presence. After this they went away.