1671.

In the beginning of the year 1671, G. Fox was at London, and though by reason of a heavy sickness, of which he began to recover, he continued still weak, yet he did not omit preaching; and about this time he made the following prayer to the Lord, which he put in writing:

‘O Lord God Almighty! prosper Truth, and preserve justice and equity in the land, and bring down all injustice and iniquity, oppression and falsehood, and cruelty, and unmercifulness in the land, that mercy and righteousness may flourish.

‘And, O Lord God! establish and set up verity, and preserve it in the land: and bring down in the land all debauchery, and vice, and whoredoms, and fornication; and this raping spirit, which causeth and leadeth people to have no esteem of thee, O God! nor their souls or bodies, nor of Christianity, modesty, or humanity.

‘And, O Lord! put it in the magistrates’ hearts, to bring down all this ungodliness, and violence, and cruelty, profaneness, cursing and swearing: and to put down all these whore-houses and play-houses, which do corrupt youth and people, and lead them from the kingdom of God, where no unclean thing can enter, neither shall come; but such works lead people to hell. And the Lord in mercy bring down all these things in the nation to stop thy wrath, O God, from coming on the land.

This Prayer was wrote the 17th day, at Night, of the 2d Month, 1671.

G. FOX.’

G. Fox thinking his wife now at liberty, understood that her enemies, notwithstanding the king’s order to release her, had found means to hold her still in prison. Therefore he did not give himself rest, till by the help of others he obtained from the king a discharge under the great seal, to clear both her and her estate, after she had been ten years a prisoner, and premunired. This royal order he sent forthwith down to her, and thus she was set at liberty.

Now since the heat of persecution began to cool, he felt himself inclined to make a voyage to America, to visit his friends there. Of this his intention he gave notice to his wife by a letter, and desired her to come up to London; which she did accordingly. And he having taken leave of her, set sail in the latter part of the summer towards America, with several of his friends that accompanied him.

Now whilst I leave him on ship-board, I cannot forbear to mention, that this year at London came forth a witty pamphlet with this title, An easy Way to get Money cum Privilegio, without fear or cumber, printed for the society of informers. This book contained a satirical rebuke to the informers, and began thus: ‘To all you that can work, and will not; and to all those that through other ways of extravagancy have brought yourselves into debt, necessity, or other wants, (for your speedy supply and future support,) there is an opportunity put into your hands, that is both safe, profitable, and honourable. It is to be informers.’

Next the author said, ‘That it was an easy way, since it was no more than to seek out where there were in any house, barn, stable, or backside, five persons besides those of the family; though they spoke never a word. If you do but swear it, (thus he continued,) to be a conventicle, then it is a conventicle. It is no matter if there were never a thought in their hearts as to plotting or contriving insurrections; (for which the law was made,) they being there, it is sufficient to have them fined five shillings apiece the first time, and twenty pounds for the house: and for the second time ten shillings apiece; and if the justices be not well advised, it may be for the second time for the house you may get twenty pounds more, although the act doth not grant it. And of all this it is said, the thirds is yours: this you may easily have; for the justices are afraid of your power, since you have them under your lee; so they will not much question you, lest they be counted fanatics; and they know that if they do not please your wills, your power is such, that you may recover fifty pounds for your parts, by action, suit, bill or plea, in any of his majesty’s courts at Westminster, wherein no essoign, protection, or wager of law shall lie. Can your hearts desire more? who will not be informers? that must have all clauses construed most largely and beneficially to their justification and encouragement!’

As to the profitableness, the author said, ‘Besides the twenty pounds and ten shillings apiece for meeting, if you can but tempt any by your questions, or other provocations, to speak but a word to answer you, it will serve to make him a preacher, and then for the first time there is twenty pounds, and for the second forty pounds. It is no matter what is spoke, or to what concern; if you swear you did hear such an one speak, it is enough to make him a preacher. And as to the inability, there is no danger that you should fall short of your salary; for you can by your power make void that old proverb, Where it is not to be had, the king must lose his right. But your prerogative is such, that if the offender hath it not, you can command your servants to levy it on any other that is not an offender in that nature, provided he be there, otherwise an appeal will be granted.’

At this rate the author treated the matter, taking out of the way all difficulties and scruples which any might have objected; and though he did this mostly in a burlesque way, yet what he said was so firm and strenuous, that he gave proofs of being a man of understanding, and of a great wit; for though in an ingenious way he showed the abominableness of this informing trade, yet he proposed it safe every way: and if any might tell them they were knights of the post; yet however the thing fell out, it was never attended with loss, but always with a certain gain; since in the prosecution nothing could be objected, but what might be easily quashed, and the opposers thus frustrated.—‘And when to all these infallible profits was added the honourableness of the office, what could one desire more? for was it not honourable indeed to command both magistrates and military officers, to follow the informers where they will? and to obtain this office, one needed not to be at great cost to purchase it, nor to break his pate with studying; since at the very first conventicle they entered they might commence doctors.’ But of what religion or profession these informers should be, the author himself seemed not to know: ‘They must be no jews,’ said he, ‘for these were not to covet their neighbours’ ox, nor ass, nor any thing that was their neighbours; neither should they be gentiles, for they had conscience accusing, and did by nature the things contained in the law, having the law writ in their hearts. And Christians they could be by no means; for they say they forsake the devil and all his works, and all the lusts of the flesh, and not to hurt any by word nor deed, which is less than by swearing,’ [the common fact of the informers.] To conclude, the author said: ‘for any into whose hands this may come, if they fear any danger in it, they ought not to conceal it, but to bring it before some justice, or the chief magistrate of the place, with an account how they came by it, and then they are innocent: then if it cannot clear itself, let it lie in prison till it perish.’

Now I return to George Fox, whom we left in the ship going to America. During his voyage he suffered much in his body; for the many hurts and bruises he had formerly received, and the griefs and infirmities he had contracted in England by cold, and hardships, and long imprisonments, returned upon him now he came to sea, and caused great pain. And after having been seven weeks and some odd days at sea, he, with his fellow-travellers, came safe to the island of Barbadoes. His occurrences there he hath described at large in his journal. Many of the great ones, especially the governor, showed him much kindness. And after he had edified his friends there on many occasions, and exhorted them to the maintaining of good order, both in things relating to the church, and in the governing of their blacks; he now, being restored to health again, departed the island after a stay of three months, and set sail for Jamaica, where he had not been long, ere Elizabeth Hooton, several times mentioned in this work, departed this life, having been well the day before she died; and thus she finished her days in a good frame of mind. After he had been there about seven weeks, he performed his service to his satisfaction.

1672.

In the beginning of the year 1672 he took shipping for Maryland, where being come, he with those with him travelled through woods and wildernesses, over bogs and great rivers, to New England. By the way he had sometimes opportunity to speak to the Indians and their kings; and at other times he met with singular cases, all which, for brevity’s sake, I pass by in silence. He went also to the town formerly called New Amsterdam, which name is now changed into that of New York. Here he lodged at the governor’s house, and had also a meeting there. From thence he returned again to Maryland, and came also into Virginia, and Carolina, and thus spent above a year travelling to and fro in America.

Whilst he was there, England and France were entered into war against Holland. Now though I have yet in fresh remembrance those sad times, and in what a wonderful manner it pleased the Lord to save our country from being quite overrun and subdued, yet I shall not mention those things, since they are at large set down by other writers. Yet transiently I will give a touch of the remarkable exaltation of William III. prince of Orange, and afterwards king of Great Britain.

I have already said in its due place, how it was endeavoured to exclude him by the perpetual edict from ever being stadtholder or deputy. But how strong soever this edict was sworn to, yet heaven brought it to nought, and broke the ties of it by the refuse of the nation: for women, and many others of the mob, forced the magistrates, when the French were come into the province of Utrecht, and all seemed to run into confusion, to break their oaths, and to restore that young and magnanimous prince to the honour and dignity of his renowned ancestors. The miserable fate of the two brethren, John and Cornelius de Wit, who had been chief instruments in making the said perpetual edict, and were killed and butchered in a most abominable manner by the inhabitants of the Hague, was not without good reason disapproved by many grave and serious people. It is true, it was a great mistake that they acted so, that they seemed to set limits to the Almighty; though I do not believe their intent was such, but rather that what they did in making void the stadtholdership, they judged conducive to the benefit of their country. After they were murdered, the widow of Cornelius de Wit seemed to have a firm belief that they were entered into everlasting glory: for though for some time after their death she was under a great concern, considering how on a sudden, and at unawares, they were hurried out of this life; yet at length, early in the morning, either in a dream or in a vision, she beheld them both in a cloud in a glorious form, with hands lifted up, and clothed with pure white raiment. By this sight all her former solicitude and fear was taken from her, and she was fully satisfied concerning their eternal well-being. I have this relation from several credible persons, who said they had it from her own mouth; and they all agreed in the material circumstances.

1673.

In England, where it was observed that persecution for religion, during the war, could not but be prejudicial to the public, the king published a declaration, whereby the execution of the penal laws was suspended. But since the Papists, against whom the most of these laws had been made, thus got liberty to enter into offices of trust, many of the people grew jealous on this account; insomuch that the parliament in the year 1673, showed their dislike to the king, telling him, that the penal statutes about ecclesiastical matters could not be suspended but by an act of parliament. The king, wanting money to continue the war, yielded somewhat to parliament, in respect to the popish priests and jesuits, consenting that the laws against them should continue in force.

This summer G. Fox returned to England, and arrived at Bristol, of which he gave notice to his wife by a letter; and she delayed not to go to him; with her came also her son-in-law Thomas Lower, and two of her daughters: her other son-in-law John Rouse, accompanied by William Penn, &c. came also from London; and since at that time there was a fair at Bristol, many of his friends came thither from other parts of the country, and so were at a great meeting he had there, in which he preached concerning the three chief teachers, viz. ‘That God was the first teacher of man and woman in paradise; and that as long as they kept to God’s teaching, they kept in the image of God, and in righteousness, holiness, and dominion over all that God hath made: but when they hearkened to the false teaching of the serpent, who was out of truth, and so disobeyed God, they lost the image of God, to wit, righteousness and holiness; and so coming under the power of satan, were turned out of paradise. That this serpent was the second teacher, and that man following his teaching, came into misery, and into the fall. And that Christ Jesus was the third teacher, of whom God said, “This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased, hear ye him:” and that this Son himself said, “Learn of me:” that he was the true gospel teacher, that never fell, and therefore was to be heard in all things, since he was the Saviour and the Redeemer, and having laid down his life, had bought his sheep with his precious blood.’ Of this he treated at large in the said meeting. After some stay at Bristol, he went to Gloucestershire; and going from thence to Oxfordshire, he came at length to London, where persecution being not so hot now as formerly, the Baptists and Socinians were very active in blackening the Quakers, by publishing several books against them, in which they averred that the Quakers were no Christians. But these malicious books were not left unanswered, nor the falsehoods contained in them.

After G. Fox had been some time at London, he went with his wife and Thomas Lower to Worcester; and when he signified to her that it was like a prison would be his share, she seemed not without reason grieved at it. And not long after had a meeting at Armscot in Tredington parish, after the meeting was ended, he, with Thomas Lower, sitting in the parlour, and discoursing with some friends, they both were under pretence of having kept great meetings that might be prejudicial to the public peace, taken by Henry Parker, justice, and sent to Worcester jail, on the 17th of December, and his wife with her daughter returned into the north; and by that time he thought she could be got home, he wrote a short letter to her, and exhorted her, to be content with the will of the Lord. He also wrote a letter to the lord Windsor, who was lieutenant of Worcestershire, and other magistrates, wherein he informed them of his imprisonment, and that he had not been taken in a meeting, but in a house where he had some business. He also signified, that he intended to have visited his mother, from which he had now been stopped. But he could not thus obtain his liberty; yet Thomas Lower might have got free if he would; for his brother Dr. Lower, being one of the king’s physicians, had procured Henry Savil, a gentleman of the king’s bed-chamber, to write to the said lord Windsor to release Thomas Lower: but his love to his father-in-law, G. Fox, was such, that he kept the said letter by him unsent; and so they were both continued prisoners.

Now whilst I leave them in prison, I return once more to Miles Halhead, of whom mention hath been often made already. He being at Plymouth in this year, felt himself stirred up to go see John Lambert, who having formerly been a general, was now, as hath been said in due place, confined to perpetual imprisonment, in a little island not far from Plymouth. To this island Halhead passed over, and though he found there a strong guard of soldiers, yet he got leave to see Lambert; and being come to him, he said, ‘Friend, is thy name John Lambert?’ To which Lambert answered, ‘Yea:’ which made Miles say, ‘Then I pray thee, friend, hear what the servant of the Lord hath to say to thee:’ and he continued thus: ‘Friend, the Lord God made use of thee and others for the deliverance of his people, and when you cried to him, he delivered you in your distresses, as at Dunbar, and other places, and gave an opportunity into your hands to do good: and you promised what great things you would do for the Lord’s people: but truly John Lambert, ye soon forgot your promises ye made to the Lord in that day and time of your great distress, and turned the edge of your sword against the Lord’s servants and handmaids, whom he sent forth to declare his eternal truth; and made laws, and consented to laws, and suffered and permitted laws to be made against God’s people.’ To this Lambert said, ‘Friend, I would have you know, that some of us never made laws, nor consented to laws to persecute you, or any of your friends; for persecution we ever were against.’ To which Miles returned, ‘It may be so; but the Scripture of truth is fulfilled by the best of you: for although thou and some others have not given your consent to make laws against the Lord’s people, yet ye suffered and permitted it to be made and done; and when power and authority was in your hands, ye might have spoken the word, and the servants and handmaids of the Lord might have been delivered out of the devourers’ hands; but none was found amongst you that would be seen to plead the cause of the innocent; so the Lord God of life was grieved with you, because ye slighted the Lord and his servants, and began to set up your self-interest, and to lay field to field, and house to house, and make your names great in the earth. Then the Lord took away your power and authority, your manhood and your boldness, and caused you to flee before your enemies, and your hearts fainted with fear, and some ended their days in grief and sorrow, and some lay in holes and caves to this day. So the Lord God of heaven and earth will give a just reward to every one according to his works. So, my dear friend, prize the great love of God to thee, who hath not given thy life into the hands of the devourers, but hath given thee thy life for a prey, and time to prepare thyself, that thou mayest end thy days in peace. And truly the Lord is good to all them that fear him, and believe in his name: for, though all the powers of the earth rise up against a poor innocent people, yet the Lord God of life and love was with them, and pleaded their cause, although all men slighted them: and truly, the best was but as a brier, and the most upright among them as a thorn hedge. If the Lord had not pleaded our innocency, we had not had a being in the land of our nativity, glory to his name forever, who hath not suffered or permitted more of the wrath of man, nor laws, nor decrees of men, to come against his people, that believe in his name, than hath been for his honour, and for his glory, and for the eternal good of all his sons and daughters, and servants; and the remainder, the Lord God of life and love hath restrained to this day: glory, and honour, and living eternal praises be given and returned to the Lord God, and the Lamb for ever!’

Thus Halhead ended his speech, and Lambert, who had heard him with good satisfaction, desired him to sit down, which Halhead did; and then Lambert called for beer, and gave him drink; after which he said to him, ‘Friend, I do believe thou speakest to me in love, and so I take it,’ And then he asked him, if he was at Dunbar fight? To which Halhead having answered ‘No:’ he further asked, ‘How do you know what great danger we were in at that time?’ Upon which Halhead gave him to understand, that he coming that way a little time after the fight, and having viewed the town of Dunbar, and the ground about it where the English army lay, how the sea was on one hand of them, and the hills and mountains on the other, and the great Scotch army before and behind them, he then took into serious consideration, the great danger the English had been in, and thought how greatly the Englishmen were engaged to the Lord for their deliverance, to serve him in truth and uprightness of heart all the days of their life. ‘Truly John,’ said Halhead then to Lambert, ‘I never saw thy face before to know thee, although I have been brought before many of our English commanders in the time of Oliver Cromwell.’ Lambert then asking, who they were, Halhead named the generals Fleetwood and Desborough, major Blackmore, and colonel Fenwick, before whom he had been when he was governor of Edinburgh. Lambert then said, he knew the most of those men to have been very moderate, and that they ever were against persecution. To which Miles replied, ‘Indeed they were very moderate, and would not be much seen to persecute, or be severe with the Lord’s people; but truly they permitted others to do it, and took little notice of the sufferings of the people of God: so that none were found to plead our cause, but the Lord God.’ To this Lambert said, ‘Although you and your friends suffered persecution, and some hardships in that time, your cause therein is never the worse for that.’ ‘That is very true,’ returned Miles, ‘but let me tell thee, in the plainness of my heart, that is no thanks to you, but glory to the Lord for ever.’ About two hours Miles discoursed with Lambert, and his wife and two daughters, and after he had cleared himself, he took leave of them, and so parted in love.

Now before I leave Halhead, I will insert here a copy of a letter he wrote in the year 1674, to G. Fox, who was then prisoner in Worcester jail: the said letter was thus:

1674.

In the month called January, 1673-4, G. Fox and Thomas Lower, were brought to their trial in the court at Worcester, it being the last day of the sessions; and when they came in, those on the bench were struck with paleness in their faces, and continued awhile speechless, insomuch that a butcher in the hall said, ‘What! are they afraid? Dare not the justices speak to them?’ At length justice Parker, by whose order G. Fox and T. Lower had been committed, made a long speech, much to the same effect as the contents of the mittimus, and added, that he thought it a milder course to send them two to jail, than to put his neighbours to the loss of two hundred pounds, which they must have suffered, if he had put the law in execution against conventicles. But this was a very poor shift, and silly evasion; for there being no meeting when he came, nor any to inform, he had no evidence to convict them, or his neighbours by. When Parker had ended his speech, the justices spoke to the prisoners, and began with Lower, whom they examined why he came into that country. And when they had done with him, they asked of G. Fox an account of his travel, which he gave them, and showed them clearly, that he and his friends, of whom so great a noise had been made by justice Parker, as if many had come together from several parts, were in a manner all but one family. When he had ended speaking, the chairman Simpson said, ‘Your relation or account is very innocent.’ Then he and Parker having whispered awhile together, the said chairman stood up, and said, ‘You, Mr. Fox, are a famous man, and all this may be true which you have said; but that we may be the better satisfied, will you take the oaths of allegiance and supremacy?’ Now, though G. Fox answered to this, that they had said they would not ensnare him, and that this was a plain snare, since they knew he and his friends would not take any oath; all was in vain, and they caused the oath to be read, which being done, he told them, ‘I never took oath in my life, but I have always been true to the government. I was cast into the dungeon at Darby, and kept prisoner six months there, because I would not take up arms against king Charles, at Worcester fight; and for going to meetings, I was carried out of Leicester, and brought before Oliver Cromwell, as a plotter to bring in king Charles; and ye know in your own consciences, that we, the people called Quakers, cannot take an oath, or swear in any case, because Christ hath forbidden it; but as to the matter or substance contained in the oaths, this I can and do say, that I do own and acknowledge the king of England to be lawful heir and successor to the realm of England; and do abhor all plots and plotters, and contrivances against him; and I have nothing in my heart but love and good will to him and all men, and desire his and their prosperity; the Lord knows it, before whom I stand an innocent man. And as to the oath of supremacy, I deny the pope and his power, and abhor it with my heart.’ Whilst he was yet speaking, they cried, ‘Give him the book,’ viz. the Bible. ‘The book,’ saith G. Fox, ‘saith “Swear not at all:”’ and he going on to declare his mind further, they cried, ‘Take him away, jailer:’ who not showing himself very forward, they cried again, ‘Take him away: we shall have a meeting here; why do you not take him away?’ And one of the bench said, ‘That fellow,’ meaning the jailer, ‘loves to hear him preach.’ The jailer then taking him away, as he was turning from them, he said, ‘The Lord forgive you, who cast me into prison for obeying the doctrine of Christ.’ After G. Fox was led away, the justices told T. Lower, he was at liberty; for they did not think it safe to deal with him at the same rate as they did with G. Fox, because they thought he had some protection at court. Lower asked then, why his father-in-law might not be set at liberty, as well as he, since they were both taken together, and their case was alike? But they telling him they would not hear him, said, ‘you may be gone about your business, for we have nothing more to say to you, seeing you are discharged.’

This was all he could get from them; therefore after the court was risen, he went to speak with them at their chamber, desiring to know, what cause they had to detain his father, seeing they had discharged him; and wishing them to consider, whether this was not partiality.—Upon this Simpson said, ‘If you be not content, we will tender you the oath also, and send you to your father.’ To which Lower replied, ‘You may do that, if you think fit; but whether ye send me or no, I intend to go, and wait upon my father in prison; for that is now my business in this country.’ Then justice Parker said to him, ‘Do you think, Mr. Lower, that I had no cause to send your father and you to prison, when you had such a great meeting, insomuch that the parson of the parish complained to me, that he had lost the greatest part of his parishioners; so that when he comes amongst them, he hath scarce any auditors left.’ To this Lower returned, ‘I have heard that the priest of that parish comes so seldom to visit his flock, but once, it may be, or twice in a year, to gather up his tithes, that it was but charity in my father, to visit such a forlorn and forsaken flock: and therefore thou hadst no cause to send my father to prison for visiting them, or for teaching, instructing, and directing them to Christ their true teacher, who had so little comfort or benefit from their pretended pastor, who comes amongst them only to seek for his gain from his quarter.’ Upon this the justice fell a laughing; for Dr. Crowder, the priest spoken of, was then in the room, sitting among them; though Lower did not know him, and he had the wit to hold his tongue, and not to vindicate himself. But after Lower was gone away, the justices so jested on Crowder, that he grew ashamed; and was so nettled with it, that he threatened to sue T. Lower in the bishop’s court upon an action of defamation: which Lower having heard of, sent him word that he might begin if he would; and that he would answer him, and bring his whole parish in evidence against him. And he told him the same afterwards to his face; which so cooled the priest’s eagerness, that he thought it more safe for him to let him alone.

Soon after the sessions were over, an habeas corpus was sent down to Worcester, for the sheriff to bring up G. Fox to the king’s bench bar; whereupon his son-in-law, Lower, conducted him: for the under sheriff had made Lower his deputy, to convey G. Fox to London, who being arrived there, appeared before the court of king’s bench, where he found the judges moderate, and they patiently heard him, when he gave them an account how he had been stopped in his journey, and committed to jail; and how at his trial, the oath of allegiance and supremacy had been tendered to him; and also what he had offered to the justices as a declaration, that he was willing to sign, instead of the said oaths. To this it was told him, by the chief justice, that they would consider further of it. Being then delivered to the keeper of the king’s bench, he was suffered to go and lodge at the house of one of his friends; for though he continued a prisoner, yet they were sufficiently persuaded that he would not run away. But after this, justice Parker, as it was said, moved the court that G. Fox might be sent back to Worcester, that his cause might be tried there; for Parker saw clearly, that if G. Fox had been acquitted here, this would have tended to his shame, for having committed him unjustly.

A day then being appointed for another hearing, and G. Fox appearing again at the king’s bench, and hearing that it was under deliberation to send him back to Worcester, signified, that this was only to ensnare him, by putting the oath to him, that so they might premunire him, who never took oath in his life. And he further told them, if he broke his yea, or nay, he was content to suffer the same penalty as those that break their oaths. Now seeing Parker had spread a report at London, and it had been said in the parliament-house, that when he took G. Fox, there were many substantial men with him, out of several parts of the nation, and that they had a design or plot in hand, G. Fox did not omit to show the fallacy of that malicious story: and since he thus laid open Parker’s shame, it was not strange, that by his friends at court, he procured that the king’s judges complied with his desire that G. Fox should be remanded to Worcester jail; insomuch that whatever he said, he could not prevent it; only this favour was granted him, that he might go his own way, and at his leisure, provided he would be there without fail, by the assizes, which were to begin on the 2d day of the month called April.

G. Fox then after some stay, went down leisurely, and being come to Worcester, he was on the 2d day of the aforesaid month, brought from the jail, to an inn near the sessions hall; but not being called that day, the jailer came to him at night, and told him he might go home, meaning to the jail: whereupon he walked thither, being accompanied by one of his friends. Next day being brought up again, a boy of about eleven years old was set to be his keeper. Having in my relation of the proceedings before the king’s bench, passed by most part of the pleading, so I shall do here likewise, to avoid repetitions of what hath been several times related already, concerning such kind of trials; yet I cannot pass by in silence, that after he had given an account of his journey before he was taken, he added, that since his imprisonment, he had understood that his mother, who was an ancient and weak woman, and had desired to see him before she died, hearing that he was stopped and imprisoned in his journey, so that he was not likely to come and see her, it struck her so, that she died soon after; which had been very hard to him. Judge Turner, who formerly had been very severe to him, seemed now, as some thought, inclined to have him set at liberty, since he saw they had nothing justly against him; but Parker who had committed him, endeavoured to incense the judge against him; for if he had been released, then he himself must have borne the blame of having committed G. Fox unjustly; and therefore he told the judge that G. Fox was a ringleader, that many of the nation followed him; and one knew not what it might come to. Yet the judge gave but little ear to all this, being willing to be easy; but he could not resolve to do this, by setting G. Fox at liberty, lest he should displease others; and thus in conclusion, G. Fox and his cause were referred to the sessions again, and he continued prisoner, but with this proviso, that he should have the liberty of the town; which accordingly he had.

By this he got opportunity to speak with many persons, and sometimes with priests too, one of which asked him, whether he was grown up to perfection? To which he answered, what he was, he was by the grace of God. ‘This is,’ replied the priest, ‘a modest and civil answer.’ ‘But,’ continued he in the words of the apostle John, “If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.” And asking what he said to that? G. Fox returned with the words of the same apostle, “if we say that we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us.” Moreover he said, ‘Christ came to destroy sin, and to take away sin. There is a time for people to see that they have sinned, and there is a time for them to confess their sin, and to forsake it, and to know the blood of Christ to cleanse from all sin.’ After some more reasoning, the priest said, ‘We must always be striving;’ to which G. Fox returned, that it was a sad and comfortless sort of striving, to strive with a belief that we should never overcome: and he told him also, that Paul, who once cried out because of the body of death, did also thank God, who gave him the victory; and that he said there is no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus: so that there was a time of crying out for want of victory, and a time of praising God for the victory. ‘But,’ said the priest, ‘Job was not perfect.’ To which G. Fox returned, that God hath signified in Scripture, that Job was perfect and upright, and that he eschewed evil: and that the devil himself was forced to confess, that God had set an hedge about him; which was not an outward hedge, but the invisible heavenly power. Yet said Job, replied the priest, ‘he charged his angels with folly, and the heavens are not clean in his sight.’ ‘That is a mistake,’ said G. Fox, ‘for it was not Job said so, but Eliphaz, who contended against Job.’ ‘Well, but,’ said the priest, ‘what say you to that Scripture, the justest man that is, sinneth seven times a day?’ ‘There is,’ answered G. Fox, ‘no such scripture.’ So the priest was silent, and this conference broken off, of which I have related thus much to show that G. Fox was not such a simple person, as some from mere envy have represented him: for he was never at a loss for an answer, but had it always in readiness.

Now the time of the sessions being come again, where the justice, who was chairman, was one Street, G. Fox was called there before the justices, and then the said justice exceedingly misrepresented the case, by telling the people, that G. Fox had a meeting at Tredington from all parts of the nation, to the terrifying of the king’s subjects; for which he had been committed, and that for the trial of his fidelity, the oaths had been tendered to him. And then turning to G. Fox, he asked him, since he had time to consider of it, whether he would now take the oaths? G. Fox having obtained liberty to speak for himself, gave a relation of his journey, and showed that he and his friends had in no wise kept a meeting that occasioned terror to any of the king’s subjects; and as to the oaths, he showed why he could not take them, and what he could declare instead thereof. But notwithstanding all this, the oaths were read to him again; and he persisting in his refusal to take them, the indictment was read also; and afterwards the chairman asked him ‘if he was guilty?’ G. Fox answered, ‘No, since the indictment was a bundle of lies,’ which he proved in several particulars, asking him, if he did not know in his conscience that they were lies? To which he said, it was their form. Whereupon G. Fox returned, it was not a true form. Then the chairman told the jury what they should do in this case: and before they gave in their verdict, G. Fox said to them, that it was for Christ’s sake, and in obedience to his and his apostle’s command that he could not swear: ‘and therefore,’ said he, ‘take heed what ye do; for before his judgment-seat ye shall all be brought.’ The chairman then said, ‘This is canting.’ ‘Why,’ said G. Fox, ‘if to confess Christ our Lord and Saviour, and to obey his command, be called canting by a judge of a court, it is to little purpose for me to say more among you. Yet ye shall see that I am a Christian, and shall show forth Christianity; and my innocency shall be manifest.’ By this his speaking, the people generally were affected; but the jury however found the bill against him; which G. Fox nevertheless traversed. Thus the matter could not be finished now, and therefore he was asked to put in bail, till the next sessions; this he refused, and warned his friends that seemed willing to be bound for him, not to meddle with that, since there was a snare in it. Yet he told the justices, that he would promise to appear, if the Lord gave him health and strength, and he were at liberty. Some of the justices showed themselves loving, and endeavoured to stop the rest from indicting him, or putting the oath to him. But the chairman said he must go according to law. Yet liberty was given G. Fox to go at large, till next quarter-sessions.

He then went up to London; where the time of the yearly meeting approached; but at the instance of some of his friends, he appeared again before the judges of the king’s bench, and delivered to them the following declaration, setting forth what he was ready to promise instead of the oaths of allegiance and supremacy.

This declaration, being the substance of what oaths of allegiance and supremacy contain, G. Fox presented to the judges of the king’s bench; but the proceedings having gone on at Worcester, they were unwilling to meddle with the business, but referred it to the next quarter-sessions at Worcester.

The yearly-meeting at London, at which he was, being over, he returned again to Worcester, where the sessions being held in the month called July, and he called to the bar, and the indictment read, justice Street caused the oaths to be read also, and tendered to him again. G. Fox then said, that he was come to traverse his indictment. But when he began to show the errors that were in the indictment, viz. such as were sufficient to quash it, he was soon stopped, and the oath required of him; and he persisting in the refusal, was by the jury found guilty. The chairman, how active soever he had been against G. Fox, yet was now troubled, and told him of a sad sentence he had to speak against him. To which G. Fox returned, that he had many and more errors to assign in the indictment, besides those he had already mentioned. Whereupon the chairman told him, he was going to show him the danger of a premunire, which was the loss of his liberty, and all his goods and chattels, and to endure imprisonment during life. ‘But,’ added he, ‘I do not deliver this as the sentence of the court, but as an admonition to you.’ Then the jailer was bid to take him away; and G. Fox afterwards understood concerning this pretended admonition, that the chairman had said to the clerk of the peace, that what he had spoken should stand for sentence.

Now whilst G. Fox was in prison, there came to him, amongst others, the earl of Salisbury’s son, who was very loving, and much concerned that they had dealt so with him; and he himself took a copy in writing of the errors that were in the indictment. And G. Fox afterwards got the state of his case, drawn up in writing, delivered to judge Wild. He also wrote a letter to the king, wherein he gave an account of the sentiments of those called Quakers concerning swearing; and how they abhorred all plottings and contrivances against the king. Not long after he fell into such a sickness, that some began to doubt of his recovery; and then one of his friends went to justice Parker, by whose order he had been first committed to prison, and desired him to give order to the jailer, that he might have liberty to go out of the jail into the city. Whereupon Parker wrote the following letter to the jailer.

This letter was sufficient warrant for the jailer to permit G. Fox to be brought from prison to the house of one of his friends. His wife was come to him before that time, and after having been with him about seventeen weeks, and no discharge like to be obtained for him, she went up to London, and being come to Whitehall, and meeting with the king there, she gave him an account of her husband’s long imprisonment, and how weak he was, and not without danger of his life. To which the king said, he could do nothing in it, but she must go to the chancellor. And so she went to the lord Finch, who was then chancellor; and having given him an account of the matter, she told him that the king had left it wholly to him; and if he did not show pity, and release her husband out of prison, she feared he would end his days there. But the chancellor said to her, that the king could not release him, otherwise than by a pardon. Now G. Fox could not resolve to be freed thus, as well knowing he had done no evil; and therefore he would rather have lain in prison all his days, than to be thus set at liberty; otherwise he needed not to have lain so long, since the king had been willing long before to have given him a pardon; and also had said to one Thomas More, that G. Fox needed not scruple being released by a pardon; for many a man, that was as innocent as a child, had had a pardon granted him. G. Fox unwilling to have a pardon, but desiring to have the validity of his indictment tried before the judges, the lord chancellor, who showed himself a discreet man, procured that an habeas corpus was granted to bring G. Fox to London, once more to appear before the king’s bench. The habeas corpus was with the first opportunity sent down by his wife to Worcester; but there they would not part with him at first, (being now recovered a little of his sickness,) under a pretence that he was premunired, and was not to go out in that manner. Thus it became necessary to send to London again; and another order was got and sent down, to bring up G. Fox before the king’s bench. Being still weak, he was carried up to London in a coach, the under-sheriff and the clerk of the peace accompanying him.

Being come down, he was brought before the four judges at the king’s bench, where counsellor Thomas Corbet pleaded his cause, and acquitted himself exceeding well; for he started a new plea, and told the judges, that by law they could not imprison any man upon a premunire. The judges then saying they must have time to look in their books, and to consult the statutes, the hearing was put off till the next day. And since it appeared that Corbet was in the right, they chose to let their plea fall, perhaps for fear of worse consequences. And thus they began to examine the errors of the indictment, which proved to be so many and so gross, that all the judges were of opinion, that the indictment was quashed and void, and that G. Fox ought to have his liberty. The same day several lords and other great men, had the oaths of allegiance and supremacy tendered to them in open court; and some of G. Fox’s adversaries moved the judges, that the oaths might be tendered to him again, saying, he was a dangerous man to be at liberty. But judge Matthew Hale, who was then lord chief justice of England, and really an excellent and pious man, as hath been hinted already here before, said, he had indeed heard some such reports of G. Fox, but he had also heard more good reports of him. This saying was serviceable; and Hale and the other judges ordered G. Fox to be freed by proclamation. Thus he was set at liberty in an honourable way, and his counsellor Corbet, who had pleaded for him, got great fame by it; for many other lawyers told him, he had brought that to light, which had not been known before. And after the trial, one of the judges said to him, ‘You have obtained a great deal of honour by your way of pleading G. Fox’s cause in court.’

The year was now come to an end. But before I go over to the next, I am to mention that the Baptists in England, losing from time to time some of their best members, wrote therefore very fiercely against the Quakers, endeavouring thereby to render them no Christians. But those writings were continually answered, and that with so many convincing reasons, that the Quakers got more adherents by it. The consequence of this was, that a public dispute was appointed to be held between the Baptists and the Quakers, in the meeting-house of the Baptists at London. For the Quakers, there spoke by turns, George Whitehead, Stephen Crisp, William Penn, and George Keith; and the opponents were Jeremy Ives, William Kiffin, Thomas Plant, Thomas Hicks, and Robert Ferguson, a Presbyterian, afterwards eminently known in Holland, by the fierce declaration drawn up by him in the name of the duke of Monmouth, when that unhappy prince went over to England with forces, to dispute the throne against king James.

Jeremy Ives was an eminent teacher among the Baptists, that had been in prison in London fourteen years before on a religious account, and chiefly because for conscience-sake he refused to take the oath.

Not long after he wrote a smart letter from the prison, to two of his society, (who having been imprisoned with him for the same cause, had taken the oath, thereby to obtain their liberty,) wherein he reproved them for their falling away, and signified that thus they had increased the burden of their faithful brethren, from the bearing of which they had withdrawn themselves. But what a changeable creature is man, if he doth not continue watchful, and keep close to the divine grace, continually laying hold thereon! For scarce five days passed, but this inconstant Jeremy grew weary of imprisonment, and took the oath also to get out of prison. Neither did he stop here; for it is plain that he was now departed from his profession. To temporize therefore, and to find out excuses for what he had done, he put forth a book in print, wherein he asserted the lawfulness of swearing. It was asked of him, whether he was that same Jeremy Ives, that once had been of such a tender conscience, that he durst not take an oath, and had afterwards publicly defended swearing as lawful? And he did not deny the fact, for it was notoriously known: but he went about to disguise the matter, and said, ‘I am that Jeremy who took the oath of allegiance, and wrote a book to prove that some oaths were lawful, though not all.’ Neither did he deny the fore-mentioned letter, for it was extant, and written as followeth:

Thus zealously Jer. Ives wrote to his fellow-teachers, who for human fear, and to avoid sufferings, had, against their profession, and the conviction of their consciences, taken the oath. But who could have imagined on sight of such letter, that he himself within so short a space of time, should have done that which he reproved so severely in others. Certainly in this case the saying of the prophet Jeremiah seems to be very applicable, “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked; who can know it? Let therefore him who standeth, be cautious lest he fall.” Happy had this man been, if he had been so sensible of his transgressions as one Edward Chilton, who though by profession a Quaker, yet when it came to a trial, either to take the oath of allegiance, or to be premunired, he wavered and fainted; yet not so, that he fell away totally: for he became so penitent for the evil he had committed, that he found himself constrained to give proof thereof by a letter he wrote to his friends, who remained prisoners, because for conscience-sake they could not swear; whereas he, to be released from imprisonment, had taken the oath that was demanded of him. But of what a bitter relish this became to him, and what terror and horror he was seized with, the following letter will show:

It is remarkable, that this Chilton in the conclusion of his letter saith, that his bonds were greater than those of his friends, who neither feared a premunire, nor loss of their liberty, when they must pay so dear for it, as the taking of an oath. For when any one truly abides in the fear of God, he dares not, against the convictions of his conscience, transgress the Divine commandments, and seek evasions to avoid the stress thereof: for certainly God will not be mocked. Could our Saviour have spoken in more plain and express terms than he did, when he said, “Swear not at all?” And yet what cunning devices have been invented by those who boast of the name of Christians, to enervate the force of these express words. It is not a proper place here to refute their reasons; but yet I cannot think it unsuitable to show briefly how dangerous it is to act against the express commandments of sacred writ, and against the conviction of one’s conscience, thereby to avoid persecution: for not only the apostle James saith, “Whosoever shall offend in one point, he is guilty of all;” but our supreme lawgiver Christ himself saith, “Whosoever shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before my Father which is in heaven. And whosoever shall be ashamed of me, and of my words, of him also shall the Son of Man be ashamed, when he cometh in the glory of his Father, with the holy angels.” And to encourage us to faithfulness he hath also said, “Fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul; but rather fear him which is able to destroy both soul and body in hell.” Which words indeed are so emphatical, that it ought not to displease any that I repeat them, as they have been left on record by the evangelist Luke, viz. thus, “I say unto you, my friends, be not afraid of them that kill the body, and after that have no more that they can do. But I will forewarn you whom ye shall fear: fear him, which after he hath killed, hath power to cast into hell: yea, I say unto you, fear him.” Can it be otherwise, but that such words must needs make a powerful impression on a real Christian? And the more when we consider, that nothing in the world can retrieve or restore a perishing soul, as may appear from these of our blessed Lord, “What is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?” A clear proof that the whole world, and all that is contained therein, is not able to save one soul, or to afford any thing that can redeem it. If I here thought it requisite, a godly zeal at present would make me say more on this subject; but not to expatiate too far beyond the limits of this historical tract, I shall not pursue this digression any further, but return to my relation from whence I thus stepped aside.

To take up again then the broken thread of my discourse, I once more come to Jeremy Ives, who, to avoid persecution, had taken the oath contrary to his understanding; and it was Thomas Rudyard, mentioned here before, who objected this to him; and he feeling himself pinched by it, endeavoured to break the stress thereof by saying, that the reason why in a letter he had blamed a friend, was for his saying he had rather have given fifty pounds than have took the oath of allegiance, and yet swore he took it freely and willingly. But who sees not what a poor shift this was?

Now to come to the dispute; I already mentioned it was asserted, that the Quakers were no Christians; and to maintain this, Thomas Hicks said, ‘They that deny the Lord’s Christ, are no Christians: but the Quakers deny the Lord’s Christ,’ &c. To which W. Penn said, ‘I deny the minor, viz. that the Quakers deny the Lord’s Christ.’ And T. Hicks returned, ‘They that deny Christ to be a distinct person without them, deny the Lord’s Christ; but the Quakers deny Christ to be a distinct person without them: therefore,’ &c. W. Penn then desired that T. Hicks would explain what he meant by the term person. And T. Hicks answered, ‘I mean the man Christ Jesus.’ To which W. Penn replied, ‘Then I deny the minor, viz. that we deny the man Christ Jesus.’ To which Hicks returned, ‘I prove ye deny the man Christ Jesus. One of your own writers saith, that Christ was never seen with carnal eyes, nor heard with carnal ears,’ &c. To this J. Ives added, ‘He that denies that Christ was ever seen with carnal eyes, &c. denies the man Christ: but the Quakers deny that Christ was ever seen with carnal eyes,’ &c. George Keith then said, ‘I answer by distinguishing: Christ as God was never seen with carnal eyes; but as man he was seen with carnal eyes.’ To this J. Ives returned: ‘But he was Christ as he was man: how then was not Christ seen with carnal eyes?’ To this question G. Keith answered thus: ‘We are to consider that the terms or names Jesus Christ, are sometimes applied to him as God, and sometimes to him as man; yea, sometimes to the very body of Jesus: but the question is, whether do those names more properly, immediately, and originally belong to him as God, or as he was before he took the manhood upon him; or to the manhood? We affirm, those names are given to him most properly and eminently as God; and less properly, yet truly, as man; and least properly to his body, yea to his dead body.’ Then J. Ives asked, ‘Where do you read that the carcase was called the Christ?’ This irreverent expression so displeased many, that some cried out, ‘Where didst thou ever read that Christ’s dead body was called a carcase?’ From this disgust W. Penn said, ‘I beseech you for the Lord’s sake, that we may treat of these things as becomes Christians.’

G. Keith then resuming the discourse, answered J. Ives’s question thus: ‘I prove that the dead body of Jesus was called Christ, from the words of Mary, “Where have ye laid him?” For she had just before called the body her Lord: likewise the angel said to her, “See the place where the Lord lay:” and that he was Jesus Christ before he took flesh, I prove from the saying of the apostle, “Who created all things by Jesus Christ.”’ Then T. Hicks said, ‘I will prove the Quakers to be no Christians:’ and J. Ives added, ‘They that say that Christ cannot be seen with carnal eyes, and was never visible to wicked men, do deny the Lord’s Christ; for he was seen with carnal eyes, and by wicked men.’ To this W. Penn said, ‘I distinguish upon the word seen; wicked men might see him in that bodily appearance, and yet not see him to be the Christ of God; they saw his manhood, but not his Christship: this I will prove from Christ’s words to Peter, when he confessed him to be Christ, the Son of the living God, viz. “Flesh and blood hath not revealed this unto thee, but my Father which is in heaven:” therefore Peter with a carnal eye could not have seen the Lord’s Christ, much less wicked men. My second proof is from the apostle’s words, “Whom none of the princes of this world knew; for had they known him, they would not have crucified him.”’ W. Penn enlarging a little more on this subject, said also, that seeing and knowing in Scriptures are sometimes equivalent. And G. Keith added, ‘Christ said, “He that hath seen me, hath seen the Father:” but no wicked man hath seen the Father, therefore no wicked man hath seen Christ, as such.’ Ives and his companions scoffed at this distinction: but the Quakers averred, that all who saw Jesus as the carpenter’s son, did not see him as the Christ of God. Then Ives asked, ‘Is the manhood a part of the Lord’s Christ?’ To which W. Penn returned, ‘Is this to prove the charge of our denying the Lord’s Christ? It seems we must be here to be catechised, and ye will not answer us one question, yet I shall answer J. Ives his question, if he will promise to answer mine.’

Ives then saying that he would answer it, W. Penn returned, ‘I here declare, that we do faithfully believe that holy manhood to be a member of the Christ of God:’ and directing his question to Ives, he said, ‘Was he the Christ of God before he was manifest in the flesh?’ ‘He was,’ answered Ives, ‘the Son of God.’ ‘But,’ replied W. Penn, ‘Was he the Lord’s Christ? I will prove him to have been the Lord’s Christ as well before as after: first from the apostle Paul’s words to the Corinthians, “That rock was Christ:” next from Jude, where some Greek copies have it thus, “That Jesus brought the people of Israel out of Egypt.”’ But to this Ives gave no answer, how often soever he was called upon for it. And this was no great wonder, since it was well known that there were such among the Baptists who favoured the Socinian principles. But Ives, that he might not appear altogether mute, came on again with a question, viz. ‘Do ye believe that Christ in his human nature is in heaven?’ This made G. Whitehead say to the auditory, ‘Ye have heard the charge against us, and the distinction that hath been made between seeing, and seeing of Christ, as namely between the spiritual saving sight of the Lord’s Christ, and the seeing of his outward man, person, or body. In this last sense it could never be intended that it was not visible to the outward eye; but it was the spiritual rock which all Israel drank of, and as he was before Abraham was, and as glorified with the Father before the world began; and as Christ himself said to Philip, “He that seeth me, seeth my Father also:” and only saints, or children of light, could truly say, “We have seen his glory as the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth.” In all which considerations, or senses of seeing, the Lord’s Christ was only seen spiritually, and not with carnal eyes.’ This Ives granted, that so it might be left: yet presently after, instead of proving the Quakers no Christians, he asked again, ‘Do ye believe or own that Christ is in heaven with his human nature?’ To which W. Penn answered, ‘We do believe the man Christ Jesus to be glorified in heaven.’ Which answer Ives refusing to accept, because it was not in the terms of his question, Penn asked, ‘What difference dost thou make between the manhood and human nature of Christ?’ ‘None,’ returned Ives, ‘if you mean candidly.’ To which Penn replied, ‘I do mean and speak candidly; we do believe that holy manhood to be in heavenly glory.’

Now since it began to grow dark, the Baptists desired to leave off, and to resume the matter at another time; as was done also: but the parties did not agree for all that; for though the Baptists continued to assert that the Quakers were no Christians, yet these had abundance of reasons to maintain the contrary; and this they did so effectually, that those of the other party, under a pretence of the meeting-place being overcharged with people, and that the gallery gave way, broke up the meeting, without a final conclusion.

Prosecution in this year was not very sharp at London, but for all that, active in other places, so that I do not want matter to make a relation of it; but to shun prolixity, I will mention but one case.

One Robert Tilles, in Buckingham, sick of a consumption, and believing his death to be nigh at hand, desired some of his friends to visit him. At this invitation some came to his house, yet not above the number of fourteen persons; and two informers went and acquainted a justice of the peace thereof, who recorded this small assembly as a seditious meeting, and fined the sick man twenty pounds for this pretended transgression; and so his goods were seized, and six cows taken from him. And one Robert Smith, being overheard by the informers to have spoken five or six words, was fined also twenty pounds as a preacher; which fine was afterwards extorted from some others then present.

The peace between England and Holland was concluded this year, at the instance of Spain, but the war between Holland and France continued still.