Chapter XXXVII: Appendix: to VOL. I (5)

In the meanwhile the priests became more and more jealous of Dundas; for he not having them in such an esteem as they wished, they said that he would infect the whole nation. And they did not stick here, but to know with whom he corresponded in England, they opened, (so great was their power,) his letters at the post-house, and sometimes kept them: but if they found nothing in them, by which they could prejudice him, they caused them to be sealed up again, and delivered to him. By this base practice, they came to know that one Gawen Lawry, merchant of London, sent him a box, with about three pounds sterling worth of books. This box Dundas found afterwards that the priest, John Oswald, had taken away: and whatever he did, he could not get them again, till the English came into Scotland, but then many of them were wanting. Dundas in the meanwhile unwilling to comply with the kirk, was at length excommunicated; but he was generally so well esteemed, that none seemed to regard that sentence, so as to keep at a distance from him; which made this act the more contemptible. Now though Dundas favoured the doctrine of the Quakers, yet they were such a despised people, that he, who was a man of some account in the world, could not as yet give up to join with them.

It happened once that he was riding from Edinburgh to his house, in a winter evening, and hearing a noise of some men as if fighting, he bade his man ride up in haste to see what it was, which he did, and calling out, said, that there were two men on horseback, beating another on foot, Dundas riding up to them, saw the two beating the other man, who said to them, ‘What did I say to you, but bid you fear God?’ By this Dundas presently perceived that the man thus beaten was a Quaker; and asking his name, which the other telling, he knew it, though he did not know the man by sight: and then he fell a beating the two with his rod, and ordered those that were with him, to carry them to the next prison: but the said Quaker intreated him to let them go, which he did, after having asked their names, and dwelling-places. About a week after, the said Quaker told a relation of Dundas what kindness he showed him, and how he had in some manner been saved by him; ‘yet,’ said he, ‘I found the same spirit in him that was in the other two men who beat me.’ Such a saying as this would have offended some men, but with Dundas it had a contrary effect; for these words so reached him, that some time after meeting the said Quaker again, he desired, that as he passed that way, he would make his house his lodging place: which kind invitation he seemed not unwilling to accept of. Dundas had now attained so much experience, that he could discern between the spirits of meekness and rashness; and sufficiently perceive that the said Quaker, by that which he spoke concerning him, had not made himself guilty of the latter; but yet he could not bow so low, as to join in society with the Quakers, though secretly he endeavoured more and more to live up to their doctrine; and therein he enjoyed more peace in his heart than formerly.

But his outward condition in the world not being very forward, he went into France, and settled at Dieppe. Whilst he dwelt there, a certain woman out of England, came thither with her maid, and spread in the town some books of George Fox and William Dewsbury, translated into French; and she herself having written some papers, got them turned into French by Dundas, and so distributed them. But the message she chiefly came for, she hid from him, and that not without reason; for what she acted there, was so singular, that if it had been known before, it is probable she would not have been able to perform it. Though I do not find what her intent was in the thing, yet it seems likely to me, that she, not knowing the language there spoken, would by a sign testify against their apparel and dress, and that on this wise: on the First-day of the week she came to the meeting-house of the Protestants there, where some thousands of people were met: and, having set herself in the most conspicuous place, just over against him that preached, before the service was finished, she stood up, with the maid that was with her, who taking off a mantle and hood she was covered with, she appeared clothed in sackcloth, and her hair hanging down, sprinkled with ashes: thus she turned herself round several times, that all the people might see her. This sight struck both preacher and auditory with no small consternation; and the preacher’s wife afterwards telling somebody how this sight had affected her, said, ‘This is of deeper reach than I can comprehend.’ The said women having stood thus awhile, fell both down upon their knees, and prayed, and then went out of the meeting, many following them, and distributed some books. Then they came to their lodging, which was in a Scotchman’s house; but he refusing them entrance, they came to Dundas’s lodging, who knew nothing of all this. They therefore told him, that the work they came for in that nation, was now done; and he asking what they had done, they told him, and signified that they wanted lodging till they went away. Then he went abroad to see if he could find lodging for them, but in vain; he then offered them his bed, being willing to shift for himself somewhere else, but they refused to accept of his offer; and his landlady not being willing to let them sit up that night in any of her rooms, they were fain to stay that night in an outhouse.

Now this business had made such a stir in the town, that one of the king’s officers coming the next day to Dundas, told him, that he had transgressed the laws of the nation, by receiving persons of another religion to his lodging: for the king tolerated only two religions, viz. Papists and Protestants. To this Dundas said, that he had not transgressed the law of hospitality, and he had been forced to do so, since he could not let them lie in the street, where they would have been in danger of their lives by the rude multitude. Then the women were taken away, and sent to prison; and they not being provided with food, Dundas took care of that. Sometime after, an order being come from the parliament, at Rouen, it was read to them, viz. that they should be transported forthwith back to England, with the first passage-boat, and all their papers and books to be burnt in the market, and themselves also, if ever they should come to that nation again. In pursuance of this they were put into a passage-boat in the night time, and so sent to England. Afterwards the people at Dieppe intended to pursue Dundas as one of their judgment; but he was unwilling to be looked upon as such, though the Protestants had informed against him, that he did not come to their meetings: but of this no crime could be made, and Dundas told them, if they persecuted him, being a merchant, and trafficking there, they might expect the like to be done to their merchants in England. And when the judge affirmed that Dundas was of the judgment of these women, he told them that they were better than he; but that their way was too strait for him to walk in. There fell out two things which Dundas took singular notice of; the one was, that the Scotchman who shut out the women, died within twelve months after; and the other, that the house of his landlady, who refused them a chamber to sit in, was burnt within the said time, without its being known whence the fire came, no house being burnt besides, though it was in the middle of the town.

In the meanwhile Dundas continued in an unquiet condition; for by reason of human fear, he found himself too weak to profess publicly before men, what he believed to be truth.

Then he went to Rouen, but could get no rest there, being somewhat indisposed in body; and having from England gotten a great many books, treating of the doctrine of those called Quakers, he sent some of them to the judge criminal at Dieppe, and some to the Jesuits’ college there, and at Paris. Afterwards he spread some books also at Caen, where many Protestants lived. But since those books spoke against the Papists, and the Calvinists were in fear that thereby they might be brought to sufferings, they complained to the lieutenant-general of the town, of Dundas, as one that did not come to their meeting. By this he was forced to leave that place, and went to Alencon, where staying a while, the judge criminal sent for him; and after a long discourse, he and Dundas agreed so well, that he invited him to come and see him oftener, and that if he would, he might have an opportunity to discourse with some of the Jesuits. But Dundas told him, that he was not willing to dispute with any; yet he should not be afraid to maintain his principles, against all the Jesuits of the nation. This being told the Jesuits, it so exasperated them against him, that being once out of town, they caused his chamber-door to be broken up, to search his lodging. He complaining of this to the judge criminal, the judge told him, he knew nothing of it, and if there was any thing, it did proceed from the Jesuits, because of his confidence against them. This seemed not improbable, for he found his letters opened at the post-house several times, and when he challenged the post-master, he received for an answer, that they came so to him.

Some time after he returned to Caen, where he was not long; but his correspondent at Alencon sent him word, that the day after he went from thence, the governor of the town had been at his lodging to seek for him.

In the next year, when a war arose between England and France, he came again to Dieppe, in order to return to England; having got passage in company of the lord Hollis, ambassador from England; where being arrived, he frequented the meetings of those called Quakers, yet was not bold enough to own the name of Quaker, but continued in the common way of salutations, &c. Yet at length the truth they professed, had such power over him, that not being able to enjoy peace without yielding obedience to the inward convictions upon his mind, he at length gave up, and so entered into their society, and obtained a true peace with the Lord, which he had long reasoned himself out of. In process of time he published a book in print, from which I have drawn this relation, which he concluded with a poem, in which he thanked God for his singular dealings and mercies bestowed upon him, wishing that others might reap benefit by it.

Thus parting with William Dundas, I am now to say, that in this year, 1665, in December, William Caton died at Amsterdam. He was a man not only of literature, and zealous for religion, but of a courteous and affable temper and conversation, by which he was in good esteem among those he was acquainted with: and as to the respect he had there, this may serve as an instance. Holland at this time being in war with England, there were several English prisoners of war in the prison of the court of admiralty at Amsterdam, who now and then were visited by Caton, and supplied with some sustenance: but in this he was hindered by an officer of that court, who seemed offended because Caton did not give him hat honour. This gave occasion to Caton to complain of it to a burgomaster of the city, I think the lord Cornelius Van Vlooswyh, who at that time was one of the lords of the admiralty; he bid Caton come to his house at such a time as he was to go to the court; which he did, and went with the said burgomaster towards the court, where being come, and entrance denied him by the said officer, the burgomaster charged him not to hinder Caton from visiting the prisoners. About this time a law was made in England, called,

_An Act for restraining Non-Conformists from
inhabiting in Corporations._

Whereas divers persons, vicars, curates, lecturers, and other
persons in holy orders, have not declared their unfeigned assent
and consent in the use of all things contained and prescribed in
the book of Common Prayer, and administration of the sacraments,
and other rites and ceremonies of the church, according to the
use of the church of England, or have not subscribed to the
declaration or acknowledgment contained in a certain act of
parliament, made in the fourteenth year of his majesty’s reign,
and intitled, ‘An act for the uniformity of public prayers, and
administration of sacraments, and other rites and ceremonies,
and for the establishing the form of making, ordaining and
consecrating of bishops, priests, and deacons in the church of
England,’ according to the said act, or any other subsequent
act. And whereas they, or some of them, and divers other person
and persons not ordained according to the form of the church of
England, and as they have, since the act of oblivion, taken upon
them to preach in unlawful assemblies, conventicles, or meetings
under colour or pretence of exercise of religion, contrary to the
laws and statutes of this kingdom, and have settled themselves in
divers corporations in England, sometimes three or more of them
in a place, thereby taking an opportunity to distil the poisonous
principles of schism and rebellion into the hearts of his
majesty’s subjects, to the great danger of the church and kingdom.

II. Be it therefore enacted by the king’s most excellent majesty,
by and with the advice and consent of the lords spiritual and
temporal, and the commons in this present parliament assembled,
and by the authority of the same, that the said parsons,
vicars, curates, lecturers, and other persons in holy orders,
or pretended holy orders, or pretending to holy orders, and all
stipendiaries, and other persons who have been possessed of
any ecclesiastical or spiritual promotion, and every of them,
who have not declared their unfeigned assent and consent, as
aforesaid, and subscribed the declaration as aforesaid, and shall
not take and subscribe the oath following:

(2) ‘I, _A. B._ do swear, that it is not lawful upon any
pretence whatsoever, to take arms against the king; and
that I do abhor that traitorous position of taking arms by
his authority against his person, or against those that
are commissioned by him, in pursuance of such commission;
and that I will not at anytime endeavour any alteration of
government, either in church or state:’ shall not come within
five miles of any city, &c. nor teach school, on pain to
forfeit 40_l._

And though this act was chiefly made against the Presbyterians and Independents, who formerly had been employed in the public church, yet they suffered but little by it; but it was cunningly made use of to vex the Quakers, who, because for conscience-sake they could not swear, were on this law prosecuted and imprisoned, &c.

Now since the pestilence had been so fierce this year at London, that about an hundred thousand people were swept away by it and otherwise, and also many of those called Quakers, there must be consequently many poor widows and fatherless children among those of that society. And because the men, who at times kept meetings to take care for the poor, found that this burden grew too heavy for them, they offered part of this service and care to the most grave and solid women of their church, who for this service met once a week at London, and this in time gave rise to the women’s monthly meetings in other places in England.

1666.

I return now to the ship with the banished prisoners, which I left lying in the Thames; but the owners having put in another master, whose name was Peter Love, the ship, after long lingering, left the river, and came into the Downs. In the month called January of the year ensuing, Luke Howard wrote from Dover, that of fifty-four banished persons, who almost half a year ago had been brought on ship-board, but twenty-seven remained, the rest being dead. By this long stay the ship several times wanted a fresh supply of provision, and the ship’s crew grew so uneasy, that two of them having gone ashore with the boat, ran away, leaving the boat floating, by which it was staved to pieces. At length the master, though he had but few, and those mostly raw sailors, and was ill provided with victuals, yet resolved to set sail. And so they weighed anchor, and went down the channel as far as Plymouth, where after some stay, they set sail again, which was on the 23d of the month called February, but the next day being advanced as far as the Land’s End, a Dutch privateer came and took the ship; and to avoid being retaken, went about the backside of Ireland and Scotland, and so after three weeks came with some of the banished to Horn, in North Holland, and some days after the prize, with the rest of them, entered also into that port. Here they were kept some time in prison, but the commissioners of the admiralty having understood, that there was no likelihood to get the banished Quakers exchanged for Dutch prisoners of war in England, resolved to set them at liberty, and gave them a letter of passport, and a certificate, that they had not made an escape, but were sent back by them. They coming to Amsterdam, were by their friends there provided with lodging and clothes; for their own had been taken from them by the privateer’s crew; and in process of time they all returned to England, except one, who not being an Englishman, staid in Holland. Thus the banished were delivered, and the design of their persecutors was brought to nought by an Almighty hand.

In the meanwhile G. Fox continued prisoner in Scarborough Castle, where the access of his friends was denied him, though people of other persuasions were admitted. Once came to him one doctor Cradock with three priests, accompanied with the governor and his wife, and many besides. Cradock asked him, what he was in prison for? He answered, for obeying the command of Christ and his apostle in not swearing: but, if he, being both a doctor and a justice of peace, could convince him, that after Christ and the apostle had forbidden swearing, they commanded Christians to swear, then he would swear. ‘Here’s a bible,’ continued he, ‘show me any such command if thou canst.’ To this Cradock said, ‘It is written, ye shall swear in truth and righteousness.’ ‘Aye,’ said G. Fox, ‘it was written so in Jeremiah’s time, but that was many ages before Christ commanded not to swear at all: but where is it written so since Christ forbade all swearing? I could bring as many instances out of the Old Testament for swearing as thou, and it may be more too, but of what force are they to prove swearing lawful in the New Testament, since Christ and the apostles forbade it? Besides, where it is written, “Ye shall swear,” was this said to the Gentiles or to the Jews?’ To this Cradock would not answer; but one of the priests said, it was to the Jews. ‘Very well,’ said G. Fox, ‘but where did God ever give a command to the Gentiles to swear? For thou knowest that we are Gentiles by nature.’ ‘Indeed,’ said Cradock, ‘in the gospel-time every thing was to be established out of the mouths of two or three witnesses, and there was to be no swearing then.’ ‘Why then,’ returned G. Fox, ‘dost thou force oaths upon Christians, contrary to thine own knowledge in the gospel-times? And why dost thou excommunicate my friends?’ Cradock answered, ‘For not coming to church.’ ‘Why,’ said G. Fox, ‘ye left us above twenty years ago, when we were but young, to the Presbyterians, Independents, and Baptists, many of whom made spoil of our goods, and persecuted us because we would not follow them: now we being but young, knew little then of your principles, and those that knew them should not have fled from us, but ye should have sent us your epistles or homilies; for Paul wrote epistles to the saints, though he was in prison: but we might have turned Turks or Jews for ought we had from you for instruction. And now ye have excommunicated us, that is, ye have put us out of your church, before ye have got us into it, and before ye have brought us to know your principles. Is not this madness in you to put us out, before we were brought in? But what dost thou call the church?’ continued he, ‘That which you,’ replied Cradock, ‘call the steeple-house.’ Then G. Fox asked him, whether Christ’s blood was shed for the steeple-house, and whether he purified and sanctified it with his blood; ‘And seeing,’ thus continued he, ‘the church is Christ’s bride and wife, and that he is the head of the church, dost thou think the steeple-house is Christ’s wife and bride; and that he is the head of that old house, or of his people?’ ‘No,’ said Cradock, ‘Christ is the head of the people, and they are the church.’ ‘But,’ replied G. Fox, ‘ye have given that title to an old house, which belongs to the people, and ye have taught people to believe so.’ He asked him also why he persecuted his friends for not paying tithes; and whether God did ever give a command to the Gentiles, that they should pay tithes; and whether Christ had not ended tithes, when he ended the Levitical priesthood that took tithes; and whether Christ when he had sent forth his disciples to preach, had not commanded them to preach freely, as he had given them freely; and whether all the ministers of Christ were not bound to observe this command of Christ. Cradock said, he would not dispute that: and being unwilling to stay on this subject, he turned to another matter; but finding G. Fox never to be at a loss for answer, and that he could get no advantage on him, he at length went away with his company.

With such kind of people G. Fox was often troubled whilst he was prisoner there; for most that came to the castle would speak with him, and many disputes he had with them. But as to his friends, he was as a man buried alive, for very few of them were suffered to come to him. Josiah Coale once desiring admittance, the governor told him, ‘You are an understanding man, but G. Fox is a mere fool.’ Now, though the governor dealt hardly with him, yet in time he altered, for having sent out a privateer to sea, they took some ships that were not their enemies, which brought him in some trouble; after that he grew somewhat more friendly to G. Fox: to whom the deputy-governor said once, that the king knowing that he had a great interest in the people, had sent him thither, that if there should be any stirring in the nation, they should hang him over the wall. And among the Papists, who were numerous in those parts, there was much talk then of hanging G. Fox. But he told them, if that was it they desired, and it was permitted them, he was ready, for he never feared death nor sufferings in his life; but was known to be an innocent peaceable man, free from all stirrings, and plottings, and one that sought the good of all men. But the governor now growing kinder, G. Fox spoke to him when he was to go to the parliament at London, and desired him to speak with esq. Marsh, sir Francis Cob, and some others, and to tell them, how long he had lain in prison, and for what. This the governor did, and at his coming back told him, that esq. Marsh said, he knew G. Fox so well, that he would go an hundred miles barefoot for his liberty; and that several others at court had spoken well of him.

After he had been prisoner in the castle there above a year, he sent a letter to the king, in which he gave an account of his imprisonment, and the bad usage he had met with, and also that he was informed, that no man could deliver him but the king. Esq. Marsh, who was a gentleman of the king’s bed-chamber, did whatever he could to procure his liberty, and at length obtained an order from the king for his release; the substance of which order was, ‘That the king being certainly informed that G. Fox was a man principled against plotting and fighting, and had been ready at all times to discover plots, rather than to make any, &c. that therefore his royal pleasure was, that he should be discharged from his imprisonment, &c.’ This order being obtained, was not long after brought to Scarborough, and delivered to the governor, who upon the receipt thereof, discharged him, and gave him the following passport:

‘Permit the bearer thereof, George Fox, late a prisoner here, and
now discharged by his majesty’s order, quietly to pass about his
lawful occasions, without any molestation. Given under my hand at
Scarborough Castle, this first day of September, 1666.

JORDAN CROSSLANDS,
_Governor of Scarborough Castle_.’

G. Fox being thus released, would have given the governor something for the civility and kindness he had of late showed him; but he would not receive any thing; and said, whatever good he could do for him and his friends, he would do it, and never do them any hurt: and so he continued loving to his dying day; nay, if at any time the mayor of the town sent to him for soldiers, to disperse the meetings of those called Quakers, if he sent any, he privately charged them, not to meddle with the meeting.

The very next day after G. Fox was released, the fire broke out at London, and the report of it came quickly down into the country, how that city was turned into rubbish and ashes, insomuch that after an incessant fire which lasted near four days, but little of old London was left standing, there being about thirteen thousand and two hundred houses burnt; the account whereof hath been so circumstantially described by others, that I need not treat of it at large; but I cannot omit to say, that Thomas Briggs, some years before passing through the streets of London, preached repentance to the inhabitants; and coming through Cheapside, he cried out, that unless London repented, as Nineveh did, God would destroy it.

Now I may relate another remarkable prediction.

Thomas Ibbitt, of Huntingdonshire, came to London a few days before the burning of that city, and, as hath been related by eye witnesses, did upon his coming thither, alight from his horse, and unbutton his clothes in so loose a manner, as if they had been put on in haste just out of bed. In this manner he went about the city on the sixth, being the day he came thither, and also on the seventh day of the week, pronouncing a judgment by fire which should lay waste the city. On the evening of these days some of his friends had meetings with him, to inquire concerning his message and call, to pronounce that impending judgment: in his account whereof he was not more particular and clear, than that he said he for sometime had the vision thereof, but had delayed to come and declare it as commanded, until he felt, as he expressed it, the fire in his own bosom: which message or vision was very suddenly proved to be sadly true, as the foregoing brief account doth in part declare. The fire began on the 2d of September, 1666, on the first day of the week, which did immediately follow those two days the said Thomas Ibbitt had gone about the city declaring that judgment.

Having gone up and down the city, as hath been said, when afterwards he saw the fire break out, and beheld the fulfilling of his prediction, a spiritual pride seized on him, which, if others had not been wiser than he, might have tended to his utter destruction: for the fire being come as far as the east end of Cheapside, he placed himself before the flame, and spread his arms forth, as if to stay the progress of it; and if one Thomas Matthews, with others, had not pulled him, (who seemed now altogether distracted,) from thence, it was like he might have perished by the fire. Yet in process of time, as I have been told, he came to some recovery, and confessed this error: an evident proof of human weakness, and a notorious instance of our frailty, when we assume to ourselves the doing of any thing, which heaven alone can enable us.

I cannot well pass by without taking notice of it, that about three weeks before the said fire, the English landed in the island of Schelling in Holland, under the conduct of captain Holmes, and setting the town on fire, there were above three hundred houses burnt down, belonging mostly to Baptists that did not hear arms. It may be further observed, that the English were beaten at sea this summer by the Dutch, under the conduct of admiral De Ruyter, in a fight, which lasted four days; so that they had occasion to call to mind how often the judgments of God had been foretold them, which now came over their country, viz. pestilence, war, and fire.

G. Fox being at liberty, did not omit to visit his friends, and in their meetings to edify them with his exhortations, whereby others also sometimes came to be convinced. And coming to Whitby, he went to a priest’s house, who fourteen years before had said, that if ever he met G. Fox again he would have his life, or he should have his. But now his wife was not only become one of G. Fox’s friends, but this priest himself favoured the doctrine professed by his wife, and was very kind to G. Fox, who passed from thence to York, where he had a large meeting, and visited also justice Robinson, who had been loving to him from the beginning. At this time there was a priest with him, who told G. Fox, ‘It is said of you that ye love none but yourselves.’ But he showed him his mistake, and gave him so much satisfaction, that they parted friendly.

In this county G. Fox had many meetings, and one not far from colonel Kirby’s abode, who had been the chief means of his imprisonment at Lancaster and Scarborough castles: and when he heard of his release, said, he would have him taken again: but now when G. Fox came so near him, he himself was caught by the gout, which had seized him so that he was fain to keep his bed; and afterwards he met with adversities, as did most of the justices and others who had been the cause of the imprisonment of G. Fox, who now coming to Sinderhill Green, had a large meeting there, where the priest sent the constable to the justices for a warrant; but the notice being short, the way long, and having spent time in searching for G. Fox in another house, before the officers came where the meeting was, it was ended, though they had almost spoiled their horses by hard riding.

G. Fox passing from thence through Nottinghamshire, Bedfordshire, Buckinghamshire, and Oxfordshire, and visiting his friends in all places where he came, and edifying them in their meetings, gets at length to London: but he was so weak, by lying almost three years in hard and cold imprisonments, and his joints and body were so stiff and benumbed, that he could hardly get on horseback.

Being now at London, he beheld the ruins of the city, and saw the fulfilling of what had been shown him some years before. Notwithstanding this stroke on London, persecution did not cease, which gave occasion to Josiah Coale to write these lines to the king:

‘_King Charles_,

‘Set the people of God at liberty, who suffer imprisonments for
the exercise of their conscience towards him, and give liberty
of conscience to them to worship and serve him as he requireth,
and leadeth them by his spirit; or else his judgments shall
not depart from thy kingdom, until thereby he hath wrought
the liberty of his people, and removed their oppressions. And
remember thou art once more warned,

By a servant of the Lord,
JOSIAH COALE.’

London, Dec. 2d, 1666.

About this time, or it may be in the next month, Stephen Crisp published an epistle, containing an exhortation to his friends, and also a prediction concerning succeeding times, which is as followeth:

‘_Friends_,

‘I am the more drawn forth at this time to visit you with an
epistle, because the Lord hath given me some sight of his great
and dreadful day, and workings in it, which is at hand, and
greatly hastens, of which I have something to say unto you,
that ye may be prepared to stand in his day, and may behold his
wondrous working among his enemies, and have fellowship with his
power therein, and may not be dismayed nor driven away in the
tempest, which will be great.

‘And as concerning those succeeding times, the spirit of the Lord
hath signified, that they will be times of horror and amazement,
to all that have, and yet do reject his counsel: for as the days
of his forbearance, warning and inviting, have been long, so
shall his appearance amongst those that have withstood him, be
fierce and terrible; even so terrible, as who shall abide his
coming? for the Lord will work both secretly and openly, and his
arm shall be manifest to his children in both.

‘Secretly he shall rise up a continual fretting anguish among his
enemies, one against another, so that being vexed and tormented
inwardly, they shall seek to make each other miserable, and
delight therein for a little season; and then the prevailer must
be prevailed over, and the digger of the pit must fall therein;
and the confidence that men have had one in another shall fail,
and they will beguile and betray one another, both by counsel and
strength; and as they have banded themselves to break you, whom
God hath gathered, so shall they band themselves one against
another, to break, to spoil and destroy one another; and through
the multitude of their treacheries, all credit or belief, upon
the account of their solemn engagement, shall fail; so that few
men shall count themselves, or what is theirs, safe in the hand
of his friend, who hath not chosen his safety and friendship
in the pure light of the unchangeable truth of God; and all
the secret counsels of the ungodly shall be brought to nought,
sometimes by the means of some of themselves, and sometimes
by impossibilities lying in their way, which shall make their
hearts fail of ever accomplishing what they have determined; and
in this state shall men fret themselves for a season, and shall
not be able to see the hand that turns against them, but shall
turn to fight against one thing, and another, and a third thing,
and shall stagger, and reel in counsel and judgment, as drunken
men that know not where to find the way to rest; and when they
do yet stir themselves up against the holy people, and against
the holy covenant of light, and them that walk in it, they shall
but the more be confounded; for they shall be helped with a
little help, which all the ungodly shall not hinder them of, to
wit, the secret arm of the Lord, maintaining their cause, and
raising up a witness in the very hearts of their adversaries to
plead their innocency, and this shall make them yet the more to
vex themselves, and to go through hard-bestead; for when they
shall look upward to their religion, to their power, policy, or
preferments, or friendships, or whatsoever else they had trusted
in, and relied upon, they shall have cause to curse it; and when
they look downwards to the effects produced by all those things,
behold then trouble, and horror, and vexation take hold on them,
and drive them to darkness; and having no help but what is
earthly, and being out of the knowledge of the mighty overturning
power of the Lord God Almighty, they shall despair and wear out
their days with anguish; and besides all this, the terrible hand
of the Lord is, and shall be openly manifested against this
ungodly generation, by bringing grievous and terrible judgments
and plagues upon them, tumbling down all things in which their
pride and glory stood, and overturning even the foundations of
their strength; yea, the Lord will lay waste the mountain of the
ungodly, and the strength of the fenced city shall fail; and
when men shall say, “We will take refuge in them,” Nah. iii. 12,
13, they shall become but a snare, and there shall the sword
devour: and when they shall say, we will go into the field, and
put trust in the number and courage of our soldiers, they shall
both be taken away; and this evil also will come of the Lord, and
his hand will be stretched out still, and shall bring confusion,
ruin upon ruin, and war upon war; and the hearts of men shall be
stirred in them, and the nations shall be as waters, into which a
tempest, a swift whirlwind is entered, and even as waves swell up
to the dissolution one of another, and breaking one of another,
so shall the swellings of people be: and because of the hardship
and sorrow of those days, many shall seek and desire death rather
than life.

‘Ah! my heart relents, and is moved within me in the sense of
these things, and much more than I can write or declare, which
the Lord will do in the earth, and will also make haste to
accomplish among the sons of men, that they may know and confess,
that the Most High doth rule in the kingdoms of men, and pulleth
down and setteth up according to his own will: and this shall men
do before seven times pass over them, and shall be content to
give their glory unto him that sits in heaven.

‘But, oh friends! while all these things are working and bringing
to pass, repose ye yourselves in the munition of that rock that
all these shakings shall not move, even in the knowledge and
feeling of the eternal power of God, keeping you subjectly given
up to his heavenly will, and feel it daily to kill and mortify
that which remains in any of you, which is of this world; for the
worldly part in any, is the changeable part, and that is up and
down, full and empty, joyful and sorrowful, as things go well
or ill in the world: for as the truth is but one, and many are
made partakers of its spirit; so the world is but one, and many
are partakers of the spirit of it; and so many as do partake of
it, so many will be straightened and perplexed with it, but they
who are single to the truth, waiting daily to feel the life and
virtue of it in their hearts, these shall rejoice in the midst
of adversity; these shall not have their hearts moved with fear,
nor tossed with anguish, because of evil tidings, Psalm, cxii. 7,
8. Because that which fixeth them remains with them: these shall
know their entrance with the bridegroom, and so be kept from
sorrow, though his coming be with a noise; and when a midnight is
come upon man’s glory, yet they being ready and prepared, it will
be well with them, and having a true sense of the power working
in themselves, they cannot but have unity and fellowship with the
works of it in the earth, and will not at all murmur against what
is, nor wish nor will what is not to be; these will be at rest
till the indignation passeth over, and these having no design to
carry on, nor no party to promote in the earth, cannot possibly
be defeated nor disappointed in their undertakings.

‘And when you see divisions, and parties, and rendings in the
bowels of nations, and rumours and tempests in the minds of the
people, then take heed of being moved to this party, or to that
party, or giving your strength to this or that, or counselling
this way or that way, but stand single to the truth of God, in
which neither war, rent, nor division is; and take heed of that
part in any of you, which trusts and relies upon any sort of
men of this world, in the day of their prosperity; for the same
party will bring you to suffer with them in the time of their
adversity, which will not be long after; for stability in that
ground there will be none; but when they shall say, come join
with us in this or that, remember you are joined to the Lord by
his pure spirit, to walk with him in peace and in righteousness,
and you feeling this, this gathers out of all bustlings, and
noises, and parties, and tumults, and leads you to exalt the
standard of truth and righteousness, in an innocent conversation,
to see who will flow unto that; and this shall be a refuge for
many of the weary, tossed, and afflicted ones in those days, and
a shelter for many whose day is not yet over.

‘So dearly beloved friends and brethren, who have believed and
known the blessed appearance of the truth, let not your hearts
be troubled at any of these things: oh let not the things that
are at present, nor things that are yet to come, move you from
steadfastness, but rather double your diligence, zeal, and
faithfulness to the cause of God: for they that know the work
wrought in themselves, they shall rest in the day of trouble.
Yea, though the fig-tree fail, and the vine brings not forth, and
the labour of the olive-tree ceaseth, and the fields yield no
meat, and the sheep be cut off from the fold, and there be no
bullocks in the stall, yet then mayest thou rejoice in the Lord,
and sing praises to the God of thy salvation. Hab. iii. 16, 17.

‘And how near these days are to this poor nation, few know, and
therefore the cry of the Lord is very loud unto its inhabitants,
through his servants and messengers, that they would prize their
time while they have it, lest they be overturned, wasted, and
laid desolate before they are aware; and before destruction come
upon them, and there be no remedy, as it hath already done upon
many.

‘Oh, London! London! that thou and thy rulers would have
considered, and hearkened and heard, in the day of thy warnings
and invitations, and not have persisted in thy rebellion, till
the Lord was moved against thee, to cut off the thousands and
multitudes from thy streets, and the pressing and thronging of
people from thy gates, and then to destroy and ruin thy streets
also, and lay desolate thy gates, when thou thoughtest to have
replenished them again.

‘And, oh! saith my soul, that thy inhabitants would yet be
warned, and persuaded to repent and turn to the Lord, by putting
away every one the evil that is in their hearts, against the
truth in yourselves, and against those that walk in it, before a
greater desolation and destruction overtake you.

‘Oh, what shall I say to prevail with London, and with its
inhabitants! The Lord hath called aloud, he hath roared out of
Sion unto them, but many of them have not hearkened at all, nor
considered at all.

‘Well, oh my friends, and thou, oh my soul, return to your rest,
dwell in the pavilion of the house of your God, and my God, and
shelter yourselves under the shadow of his wings, where ye shall
be witnesses of his doings, and see his strange act brought to
pass, and shall not be hurt therewith, nor dismayed.

‘Oh, my friends, in the bowels of dear and tender love have I
signified these things unto you, that ye might stand armed with
the whole armour of God, clothed in righteousness, and your feet
shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace; and freely
given up in all things to the disposing of the Lord, who will
deliver us, not by might, nor by sword, nor spear, but by his own
eternal, invisible arm, will he yet save us and deliver us, and
get himself a name by preserving of us; and we shall yet live to
praise him who is worthy of glory, of honour and renown, from the
rising of the sun, to the setting of the same, now and forever,
amen, amen, saith my soul.’

1667.

In the year 1667 a book came forth in print at London, with this title, Persecution appearing with its open face in William Armorer. This was written by some of the prisoners called Quakers, and contained a relation of the impetuous carriage of the said Armorer, who being a knight and justice of peace, had made it his business many years, one after another, to persecute the Quakers, and from time to time to disturb their religious meetings. From a multitude of cases I meet with in the said book, I will pick out but a few. The aforesaid Armorer came very often to the house of Thomas Curtis, at Reading, to disturb the meeting, taking many persons prisoners from thence, particularly once thirty-four, both men and women, at a time. And when they were brought to their trial, the oath was tendered them as the most ready means to ensnare and to keep them in prison. Among the prisoners taken out of the meeting was one Henry Pizing, who coming to the bar with his hat in his hand, judge Thomas Holt said, here is a man that hath some manners, and asked him, if he would take the oath of allegiance? to which Pizing answered, he had taken it twice already. But said the judge, ‘You were no Quaker then.’ To which the said Henry replied, ‘Neither am I now, but have been many weeks among them, and I never met with any hurt by them, but found them to be an honest and civil people.’ Upon which William Armorer, who had taken him prisoner, said, ‘Why did you not tell me so before?’ to which Henry returned, your worship was so wrathful, that you would not hear me. Then the judge said, ‘He must take the oath again.’ The oath being read, he took it, upon which they let him go free without paying any fees. But they required of him, to go out at a back door, and to come no more among the Quakers. But Pizing told them, he hoped now he was freed, he might go out at which door he would.

Thomas Curtis afterwards being called, the judge asked him, if he would take the oath of allegiance? to which he answered, that he did not refuse the oath upon the account of not bearing allegiance to the king, but because Christ had commanded not to swear at all: for he was persuaded that he had manifested himself to be as good a subject to the king as most in the county, since he came into it, and that if he could take any oath, either to save his estate or life, he professed he would begin with that oath. Then he desired, that the court would be pleased to let some of their ministers show him by the Scriptures, how he might take it, and not break the command of Christ. And the judge called to one Worrel, a priest, that was near him, and desired him to satisfy Curtis in that particular. But the priest putting off his hat, and bowing to the court, desired to be excused, saying, he had had to do with some of them already, but they were an obstinate people and would not be satisfied. ‘Aye,’ said Curtis, ‘this is commonly the answer we have from these men, when they are desired to answer us a question according to the Scripture; for when we make it appear that they give no satisfactory answer to the question, they use to say, we are obstinate.’ Curtis, (whose wife Anne was a daughter of a sheriff of Bristol, that had been hanged near his own door, for endeavouring to bring in the king,) was released after some small time; but quickly taken prisoner again by Armorer, who perceiving that he intended to have gone to Bristol fair, caused him to be brought to an inn, where he told him, ‘You are going to Bristol fair, but I will stop your journey.’ And then commanding the constable to carry him to prison, he was compelled thither without a mittimus.

About this time Curtis’s imprisoned friends wrote a paper, and it is like he had a hand in it, to show the hurt and mischief proceeding from swearing. This paper being sent by him to one of the magistrates, and leave being given him to read it in the council chamber, at the reading of these words, ‘Because of swearing the land mourns,’ Alderman Johnson said that was very true.

Sometime after it happened that T. Curtis, his wife and man-servant being all prisoners, Armorer sent his man to inquire if there were any in the house more than the family, to which the maid having answered no, a little after Armorer came himself, and knocked at the door; but the maid being in fear, did not open it. Armorer then pulling an instrument out of his pocket, picked the lock, entered the house, and searching from room to room, came at length where he found one Joseph Coale, who dwelt in the house, and was not well at that time; and Armorer taking him by the arm, and pulling him down stairs, said to him, ‘Will you take the oath of allegiance?’ Which he refusing, was sent to the house of correction, whither the day before seven women, taken from a meeting, had also been brought. This bold act of picking the lock he did at other times also, and once when the maid was gone out to carry some victuals to her master and mistress in prison. In the meanwhile he searched the warehouse, where was much cloth; and to a woman that was there, and spoke against his picking of the locks, he said, ‘What have you to do with it?’ And ‘Where’s that whore?’ meaning the maid servant. The woman answered him, she had to do with it; for she was to see that nobody did steal any thing out of the house. Besides, Armorer continually made it his business to disturb the meeting which commonly was twice a week; and then he used to curse, and to strike those he found there with a great cane, always sending some to prison. Having once caused three women to be brought before him from the house of correction, he would have them pay a fine for having been at a meeting; to which one Anne Harrison said, ‘Thou hast got our house already that we built, and hast taken away our means; and wouldst thou have me pay more money when I have broken no law? We were but four above the age of sixteen years, and the act says, it must be above four.’ To which Armorer said, his man told him there were six: and two of them ran away. ‘It is false,’ said Anne, ‘there was Frances Kent, but she being a midwife, was fetched out of town; and as for the sixth, she was not there.’ But Armorer not regarding whatever Anne said, spoke in a rude manner, ‘I shall have Mrs. Kent, and then let the best lady in the land want her, she shall not go, except the king or court send for her.’