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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/19605-8.txt b/19605-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a4209f2 --- /dev/null +++ b/19605-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,15611 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, A Book of Quaker Saints, by Lucy Violet +Hodgkin, Illustrated by F. Cayley-Robinson + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: A Book of Quaker Saints + + +Author: Lucy Violet Hodgkin + + + +Release Date: October 22, 2006 [eBook #19605] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BOOK OF QUAKER SAINTS*** + + +E-text prepared by Mark C. Orton, Jeannie Howse, and the Project Gutenberg +Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net/) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original lovely illustrations. + See 19605-h.htm or 19605-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/9/6/0/19605/19605-h/19605-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/9/6/0/19605/19605-h.zip) + + + +--------------------------------------------------------+ + | Transcriber's Note: | + | | + | Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original | + | document have been preserved. | + | | + | Three obvious typographical errors were corrected in | + | this text. For a complete list, please see the end of | + | the book. | + | | + +--------------------------------------------------------+ + + + + + +A BOOK OF QUAKER SAINTS + + + + + +------------------------------------------------+ + | _BY THE SAME AUTHOR._ | + | | + | PILGRIMS IN PALESTINE. | + | [_Out of print._] | + | | + | THE HAPPY WORLD. | + | | + | CONTRIBUTIONS TO 'THE | + | FELLOWSHIP OF SILENCE.' | + | | + | SILENT WORSHIP: THE WAY OF WONDER. | + | (_Swarthmore Lecture, 1919._) | + +------------------------------------------------+ + + +[Illustration: LOIS AND HER NURSE] + + + + +A BOOK OF QUAKER SAINTS + +by + +L. V. HODGKIN +(Mrs. John Holdsworth) + +Illustrated By F. Cayley-Robinson, A.R.A. + + + + + + + +MacMillan and Co., Limited +St. Martin's Street, London +1922 +Copyright +First Edition 1917 Reprinted 1918 +Transferred to Macmillan & Co. and reprinted 1922 +Printed in Great Britain + + + + + DEDICATED + TO THE + CHILDREN + OF THE + SOCIETY OF FRIENDS + AND TO THE + GRANDCHILDREN + OF + THOMAS HODGKIN + + + + +PREFACE + + +The following stories are intended for children of various ages. The +introductory chapter, 'A Talk about Saints,' and the stories marked +with an asterisk in the Table of Contents, were written first for an +eager listener of nine years old. But as the book has grown longer the +age of its readers has grown older for two reasons: + +_First:_ because it was necessary to take for granted some knowledge +of the course of English History at the period of the Civil Wars. To +have re-told the story of the contest between King and Parliament, +leading up to the execution of Charles the First and the Protectorate +of Oliver Cromwell, would have taken up much of the fresh, undivided +attention that I was anxious to focus upon the lives and doings of +these 'Quaker Saints.' I have therefore presupposed a certain +familiarity with the chief actors and parties, and an understanding of +such names as Cavalier, Roundhead, Presbyterian, Independent, etc.; +but I have tried to explain any obsolete words, or those of which the +meaning has altered in the two and a half centuries that have elapsed +since the great struggle. + +_Secondly_: because the stories of the persecutions of the Early +Friends are too harrowing for younger children. Even a very much +softened and milder version was met with the repeated request: 'Do, +please, skip this part and make it come happy quickly.' I have +preferred, therefore, to write for older boys and girls who will wish +for a true account of suffering bravely borne; though without undue +insistence on the physical side. For to tell the stories of these +lives without the terrible, glorious account of the cruel beatings, +imprisonments, and even martyrdom in which they often ended here, is +not truly to tell them at all. The tragic darkness in the picture is +necessary to enhance its high lights. + +My youngest critic observes that 'it does not matter so much what +happens to grown-up people, because I can always skip that bit; but if +anything bad is going to happen to children, you had better leave it +out of your book altogether.' I have therefore obediently omitted the +actual sufferings of children as far as possible, except in one or two +stories where they are an essential part of the narrative. + +It must be remembered that this is not a History of the Early Quaker +Movement, but a book of stories of some Early Quaker Saints. I have +based my account on contemporary authorities; but I have not scrupled +to supply unrecorded details or explanatory speeches in order to make +the scene more vivid to my listeners. In two stories of George Fox's +youth, as authentic records are scanty, I have even ventured to look +through the eyes of imaginary spectators at 'The Shepherd of Pendle +Hill' and 'The Angel of Beverley.' But the deeper I have dug down into +the past, the less need there has been to fill in outlines; and the +more possible it has been to keep closely to the actual words of +George Fox's Journal, and other contemporary documents. The historical +notes at the end of the book will indicate where the original +authorities for each story are to be found, and they will show what +liberties have been taken. The quotations that precede the different +chapters are intended mainly for older readers, and to illustrate +either the central thought or the history of the times. + +Many stories of other Quaker Saints that should have been included in +this book have had to be omitted for want of room. The records of +William Penn and his companions and friends on both sides of the +Atlantic will, it is hoped, eventually find a place in a later volume. +The stories in the present book have been selected to show how the +Truth of the Inward Light first dawned gradually on one soul, and then +spread rapidly, in ever-widening circles, through a neighbourhood, a +kingdom, and, finally, all over the world. + +I have to thank many kind friends who have helped me in this +delightful task. _The Book of Quaker Saints_ owes its existence to my +friend Ernest E. Taylor, who first suggested the title and plan, and +then, gently but inexorably, persuaded me to write it. Several of the +stories and many of the descriptions are due to his intimate knowledge +of the lives and homes of the Early Friends; he has, moreover, been my +unfailing adviser and helper at every stage of the work. + +No one can study this period of Quaker history without being +constantly indebted to William Charles Braithwaite, the author of +_Beginnings of Quakerism_, and to Norman Penney, the Librarian at +Devonshire House, and Editor of the Cambridge Edition of George Fox's +Journal with its invaluable notes. But beyond this I owe a personal +debt of gratitude to these two Friends, for much wise counsel as to +sources, for their kindness in reading my MS. and my proofs, and for +the many errors that their accurate scholarship has helped me to +avoid, or enabled me to detect. + +To Ethel Crawshaw, Assistant at the same Library; to my sister, Ellen +S. Bosanquet; and to several other friends who have helped me in +various ways, my grateful thanks are also due. + +The stories are intended in the first place for Quaker children, and +are written throughout from a Quaker standpoint, though with the wish +to be as fair as possible not only to our staunch forefathers, but +also to their doughty antagonists. Even when describing the fiercest +encounters between them, I have tried to write nothing that might +perplex or pain other than Quaker listeners; above all, to be ever +mindful of what George Fox himself calls 'the hidden unity in the +Eternal Being.' + + L. V. HODGKIN. + +_29th July 1917._ + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PREFACE _page_ vii + +* A TALK ABOUT SAINTS 1 + +* I. 'STIFF AS A TREE, PURE AS A BELL' 19 + +* II. 'PURE FOY, MA JOYE' 33 + +* III. THE ANGEL OF BEVERLEY 57 + +* IV. TAMING THE TIGER 79 + +* V. 'THE MAN IN LEATHER BREECHES' 97 + + VI. THE SHEPHERD OF PENDLE HILL 111 + + VII. THE PEOPLE IN WHITE RAIMENT 121 + + VIII. A WONDERFUL FORTNIGHT 131 + + IX. UNDER THE YEW-TREES 149 + + X. 'BEWITCHED!' 163 + + XI. THE JUDGE'S RETURN 175 + +* XII. 'STRIKE AGAIN!' 185 + +* XIII. MAGNANIMITY 197 + +* XIV. MILES HALHEAD AND THE HAUGHTY LADY 209 + + XV. SCATTERING THE SEED 223 + + XVI. WRESTLING FOR GOD 239 + + XVII. LITTLE JAMES AND HIS JOURNEYS 255 + + XVIII. THE FIRST QUAKER MARTYR 271 + +* XIX. THE CHILDREN OF READING MEETING 285 + +* XX. THE SADDEST STORY OF ALL 301 + +* XXI. PALE WINDFLOWERS 321 + + XXII. AN UNDISTURBED MEETING 343 + + XXIII. BUTTERFLIES IN THE FELLS 353 + + XXIV. THE VICTORY OF AMOR STODDART 367 + +* XXV. THE MARVELLOUS VOYAGE OF THE GOOD SHIP 'WOODHOUSE' 379 + +* XXVI. RICHARD SELLAR AND THE 'MERCIFUL MAN' 403 + +* XXVII. TWO ROBBER STORIES--WEST AND EAST 427 + + XXVIII. SILVER SLIPPERS: OR A QUAKERESS AMONG THE TURKS 441 + +* XXIX. FIERCE FEATHERS 465 + +* XXX. THE THIEF IN THE TANYARD 479 + + XXXI. HOW A FRENCH NOBLE BECAME A FRIEND 489 + + XXXII. PREACHING TO NOBODY 509 + + COME-TO-GOOD 523 + + HISTORICAL NOTES 539 + +_Note._--An Asterisk denotes stories suitable for younger children. + + + + + LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + _reproduced from water-colour drawings by_ + F. CAYLEY-ROBINSON + + + I. LOIS AND HER NURSE _Frontispiece_ + + II. THE BOYHOOD OF GEORGE FOX _page_ 36 + +III. 'DREAMING OF THE COT IN THE VALE' 114 + + IV. 'THE VOICE OF THE SILENCE' 306 + + V. PALE WINDFLOWERS 324 + + VI. FIERCE FEATHERS 474 + +VII. A FRIENDS' MEETING 534 + + + + +A TALK ABOUT SAINTS + + + + + _'What are these that glow from afar,_ + _These that lean over the golden bar,_ + _Strong as the lion, pure as the dove,_ + _With open arms and hearts of love?_ + _They the blessed ones gone before,_ + _They the blessed for evermore._ + _Out of great tribulation they went_ + _Home to their home of Heaven-content;_ + _Through flood or blood or furnace-fire,_ + _To the rest that fulfils desire.'_ + + _CHRISTINA ROSSETTI._ + + + _St. Patrick's three orders of + Saints: 'a glory on the mountain + tops: a gleam on the sides of the + hills: a few faint lights in the + valleys.'_ + + + _'The Lord is King in His Saints, + He guards them, and guides them + with His mighty power, into His + kingdom of glory and eternal rest, + where they find joy, and peace, + and rest eternal.'--GEORGE FOX._ + + + + +A TALK ABOUT SAINTS + + +_'What is a Saint? How I do wish I knew!'_ + +_A little girl asked herself this question a great many years ago, as +she sat looking up at a patch of sunset cloud that went sailing past +the bars of her nursery window late one Sunday afternoon; but the +window was small and high up, and the cloud sailed by quickly._ + +_As she watched it go, little Lois wished that she was back in her own +nursery at home, where the windows were large and low down, and so +near the floor that even a small girl could see out of them easily. +Moreover, her own windows had wide window-sills that she could sit on, +with toy-cupboards underneath._ + +_There were no toy-cupboards in this old-fashioned nursery, where Lois +was visiting, and not many toys either. There was a doll's house, that +her mother used to play with when she was a little girl; but the dolls +in it were all made of wood and looked stiff and stern, and one +hundred years older than the dolls of to-day, or than the children +either, for that matter. Besides, the doll's house might not be opened +on Sundays._ + +_So Lois turned again to the window, and looking up at it, she wished, +as she had wished many times before on this visit, that it was rather +lower down and much larger, and that the window ledge was a little +wider, so that she could lean upon it and see where that rosy cloud +had gone._ + +_She ran for a chair, and climbed up, hoping to be able to see out +better. Alas! the window was a long way from the ground outside. She +still could not look out and see what was happening in the garden +below. Even the sun had sunk too far down for her to say good-night to +it before it set. But that did not matter, for the rosy cloud had +apparently gone to fetch innumerable other rosy cloudlets, and they +were all holding hands and dancing across the sky in a wide band, with +pale, clear pools of green and blue behind them._ + +_'What lovely rainbow colours!' thought the little girl. And then the +rainbow colours reminded her of the question that had been puzzling +her when she began to watch the rosy cloud. So she repeated, out loud +this time and in rather a weary voice, 'Whatever is a Saint? How I do +wish I knew! And why are there no Saints on the windows in Meeting?'_ + +_No answer came to her questions. Lois and her nurse were paying a +visit all by themselves. They spent most of their days up in this old +nursery at the top of the big house. Nurse had gone downstairs a long +time ago, saying that she would bring up tea for them both on a +tea-tray, before it was time to light the lamps. For there was no gas +or electric light in children's nurseries in those days._ + +_If Lois had been at home she would herself have been having tea +downstairs in the dining-room at this time with her father and mother. +Then she could have asked them what a Saint was, and have found out +all about it at once. Father and mother always seemed to know the +answers to her questions. At least, very nearly always. For Lois was +so fond of asking questions, that sometimes she asked some that had no +answer; but those were silly questions, not like this one. Lois felt +certain that either her father or her mother would have explained to +her quite clearly all about Saints, and would have wanted her to +understand about them. Away here there was nobody to ask. Nurse would +only say, 'If you ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies.' Somehow +whenever she said that, Lois fancied it meant that nurse was not very +sure of the answer herself. She had already asked Aunt Isabel in +church that same morning, when the puzzle began; and Aunt Isabel's +answer about 'a halo' had left the little girl more perplexed than +ever._ + +_Lois had heard of people 'going to church' before, but she had never +understood what it meant until to-day. At home on Sundays she went to +Meeting with father and mother. She liked walking there, in between +them, holding a hand of each, skipping and jumping in order not to +step on the black lines of the pavement. She liked to see the shops +with their eyes all shut tight for Sunday, and to watch for the +naughty shops, here and there, who kept a corner of their blinds up, +just to show a few toys or goodies underneath. Lois always thought +that those shops looked as if they were winking up at her; and she +smiled back at them a rather reproving little smile. She enjoyed the +walk and was sorry when it came to an end. For, to tell the truth, she +did not enjoy the Meeting that followed it at all._ + +_Long before the hour was over she used to grow very tired of the +silence and of the quiet room, tired of kicking her blue footstool +(gently of course, but still kicking it) and of counting her boot +buttons up and down, or else watching the hands of the clock move +slowly round its big calm face. 'Church' was a more interesting place +than Meeting, certainly; but then 'Church' had disadvantages of its +own. Everything there was strange to Lois. It had almost frightened +her, this first time. She did not know when she ought to stand up, or +when she ought to kneel, and when she might sit down. Then, when the +organ played and everybody stood up and sang a hymn, Lois found to her +surprise that her throat was beginning to feel tight and choky. For +some reason she began to wonder if father and mother were sitting in +Meeting alone, and if they had quite forgotten their little girl. Two +small tears gathered. In another minute they might have slipped out of +the corners of her eyes, and have run down her cheeks. They might even +have fallen upon the page of the hymn-book she was carefully holding +upside down. And that would have been dreadful!_ + +_Happily, just in time, she looked up and saw something so beautiful +above her that the two tears ran back to wherever it was they came +from, in less time than it takes to tell._ + +_For there, above her head, was a tall, pointed, glass window, high up +on the wall. The glass in the window was of wonderful colours, like a +rainbow:--deep purple and blue, shining gold, rich, soft red, and +glowing crimson, with here and there a green that twinkled like young +beech-leaves in the woods in spring. Best of all, there was one bit of +purest white, with sunlight streaming through it, that shone like +dazzling snow. At first Lois only noticed the colours, and the ugly +black lines that separated them. She wondered why the beautiful glass +was divided up into such queer shapes. There are no black lines +between the colours in a real rainbow._ + +_Gradually, however, she discovered that all the different colours +meant something, that they were all part of a picture on the window, +that a tall figure was standing there, looking down upon her--upon +her, fidgety little Lois, kicking her scarlet hassock in the pew. But +Lois was not kicking her hassock any longer. She was looking up into +the grave, kind face above her on the window. 'Whoever was it? Who +could it be? Was it a man or a woman? A man,' Lois thought at first, +until she saw that he was wearing a robe that fell into glowing folds +at his feet. 'Men never wear robes, do they? unless they are +dressing-gowns. This certainly was not a dressing-gown. And what was +the flat thing like a plate behind his head?' Lois had never seen +either a man or a woman wear anything like that before. 'If it was a +plate, how could it be fastened on? It would be sure to fall off and +break....'_ + +_The busy little mind had so much to wonder about, that Lois found it +easy to sit still, until the sermon was over, as she watched the +sunlight pour through the different colours in turn, making each one +more beautiful and full of light as it passed._ + +_At length the organ stopped, and the last long 'AH-MEN' had been +sung. 'Church sings "AH-MEN" out loud, and Meeting says "Amen" quite +gently; p'raps that's what makes the difference between them,' Lois +thought to herself wisely. As soon as the last notes of music had died +away, she nestled close to Aunt Isabel's side and said in an eager +voice, 'What is that lovely window up there? Who is that beautiful +person? I do like his face. And is it a He or a She?'_ + +_'Hush, darling!' her aunt whispered. 'Speak lower. That is a Saint, +of course.'_ + +_'But what is a Saint and how do you know it is one?' the little girl +whispered earnestly, pointing upwards to the tall figure through which +the sunshine streamed. Aunt Isabel was busy collecting her books and +she only whispered back, 'Don't you see the halo?' 'I don't know what +a halo can be, but a Saint is a kind of glass window, I suppose,' +thought Lois, as she followed her aunt down the aisle. Afterwards on +her way home, and at dinner, and all the afternoon, there had been so +many other things to see and to think about, that it was not until the +rosy patch of cloud sailed past the nursery window-pane at sunset that +she was reminded of the beautiful colours in church, and of the puzzle +about Saints and haloes that till then she had forgotten._ + +_'At least, no, I didn't exactly forget', she said to herself, 'but I +think p'raps I sort of disremembered--till the sunset colours reminded +me. Only I haven't found out what a Saint is yet, or a halo. And why +don't we have them on our Sunday windows in Meeting?'_ + +_Just at that moment the door opened, and nurse, who had been enjoying +a long talk downstairs in the kitchen, came in with the tea-tray. 'How +dark you are up here!' nurse exclaimed in her cheerful voice. 'We +shall have to light the lamp after all, or you will never find the way +to your mouth.'_ + +_So the lamp was lighted. The curtains were drawn. The sunset sky, +fast fading now, was hidden. And Lois' questions remained unanswered._ + + * * * * * + +_A few days later, the visit came to an end. The next Sunday, Lois was +at home again, 'chattering like a little magpie,' as her mother said, +about everything she had seen and done. She had so much to think +about, that even Meeting did not seem as long as usual, though she +thought the walls looked plainer than ever, and the glass windows very +empty, till the sight of them reminded her that she could find out +more about Saints now. At home in the afternoon she began. Drawing her +footstool close to the big arm-chair, she put her elbows on her +father's knee and looked up searchingly into his face. 'Father, please +tell me, if you possibly can,' pleaded an earnest little voice, 'for I +do very badly want to find out. Do you know what a Saint is?' Her +father laughed. 'Know what a Saint is? I should think I did! No man +better!' he answered. Lois wondered why he glanced across to the other +side of the fire where her mother was sitting; and why she glanced +back at him and shook her head, meeting his eyes with a happy smile. +Then her father jumped up, and from the lowest shelf of one of his +book-cases he fetched a fat, square volume, bound in brown leather and +gold. This he put carefully on a table, and drawing Lois on to his +knee and putting his arm round her, he showed her a number of +photographs. Lambs were there, and running fountains, and spangly +stars, and peacocks, and doves. But those pages he turned over +quickly, until he came to others: photographs of men and women dressed +in white, carrying palms and holding crowns in their hands._ + +_He told Lois that these people were 'Saints,' that they formed a long +procession on the walls of a big church at Ravenna, far away in Italy; +and that they were made of little pieces of a sort of shining glass +called 'mosaic.' 'Saints have something to do with glass then. But +these photographs are not a bit like my beautiful window,' Lois +thought to herself, rather sadly. 'There are no colours here.' She +turned over the photographs without much interest, until her father, +exclaiming, 'There, that is the one I want!' showed her one portrait +of a little girl standing among all the grown-up people, carrying just +as big a palm and crown as any of the others. He told Lois that these +crowns and palms were to show that the people who carried them had all +been put to death or 'martyred,' because they would not worship +heathen gods. He made Lois spell out the letters 'SCA. EULALIA' +written on the halo around the little girl's head, 'That is Saint +Eulalia,' her father explained. 'She was offered her freedom and her +life if she would sacrifice to idols just one tiny grain of corn, to +show that she renounced her allegiance to Jesus Christ; but when the +corn was put into her hands she threw it all back into the Judge's +face. After that, there was no escape for her. She was condemned to +die, and she did die, Lois, very bravely, though she was only a little +girl, not much older than you.' Here Lois hid her face against her +father's coat and shivered. 'But after that cruel death, when her +little body was lying unburied, a white dove hovered over it, until a +fall of snowflakes came and hid it from people's sight. So you see, +Lois, though Eulalia was only twelve years old when she was put to +death, she has been called Saint Eulalia ever since, though it all +happened hundreds of years ago. Children can be Saints as well as +grown-up people, if they are brave enough and faithful enough.'_ + +_'Saints must be brave, and Saints must be faithful,' Lois repeated, +as she shut up the big book and helped to carry it back to its shelf. +'But lots of other children have died since Sancta Eulalia was killed +and her body was covered by the snow. Surely some of those children +must have been brave and faithful too, even though they are not called +Saints? They don't stand on glass windows, or wear those things that +father calls haloes, and that I call plates, round their heads, with +their names written on them. So Saints really are rather puzzling sort +of people still. I do hope I shall find out more about them some +day.'_ + +_Thus Lois went on wondering, till, gradually, she came to find out +more of the things that make a Saint--not purple robes, or shining +garments, or haloes; not even crowns and palms; but other things, +quite different, and much more difficult to get._ + + * * * * * + +_'It is enough to vex a Saint!' her kind nurse exclaimed when Lois +spilled her jam at tea, all down her clean white frock. Or, on other +days, 'Oh dear! my patiences is not so good as they once were!' and, +'These rheumatics would try the patience of a Saint!' nurse would say, +with a weary sigh._ + +_'Then the reason my Nanny isn't a Saint is because she gets vexed +when I'm naughty, and because she isn't patient when she has a pain,' +reasoned Lois. 'What a number of things it does seem to take to make a +Saint! But then it takes eggs and milk and butter and sugar and flour +and currants and raisins too to make a cake. Saints must be brave_ and +_faithful; never get vexed; have patience always. Mother said patience +was the beginning of everything, when I stamped my foot because I +broke my cotton. Do Saints have to begin with patience too? If only I +could see a real live one with my own eyes and find out!'_ + +_Yet, strange to say, when Lois was told that she was looking at a +'real live Saint' at last, the little girl did not even wish to +believe it. This happened one Saturday afternoon. She was walking with +her governess to a beautiful wooded Dene, through which a clear stream +hurried to join the big black river that flowed past the windows of +Lois' home. On the way to the Dene they passed near a broad marsh with +stepping-stones across it. Close to the river Lois saw, in the +distance, the roofs of some wretched-looking cottages. Evidently on +her way to these cottages, balancing herself on the slippery +stepping-stones, was a little old lady in a hideous black bonnet with +jet ornaments that waggled as she moved, and shiny black gloves +screwed up into tight corkscrews at the finger ends. She carried a +large basket in one hand, and held up her skirts with the other, +showing that she wore boots with elastic sides, which Lois +particularly disliked._ + +_'Look there!' her governess said to Lois, 'actually crossing the +marsh to visit that den of fever! Old Miss S ... may not be a beauty, +but she certainly is a perfect Saint!'_ + +_'Oh no, she's not!' cried Lois with much vehemence. 'At least, I mean +I hope she isn't,' she added the next minute. 'You see,' she went on +apologetically, 'I have a very special reason for being interested in +Saints; I don't at all want any of my Saints to look ugly like that. +And, what is more, I don't believe they do!'_ + + * * * * * + +_Many months passed before the time came, when she was least expecting +it, that Lois saw, she actually did see, a 'real live Saint' for +herself._ + +_How did she know it was a Saint? Lois could not tell how she knew; +but from the very first moment that she found herself looking up into +one of the kindest, most loving faces that she had ever seen, she was +perfectly sure that she had found a Saint at last. She saw no halo--at +least no golden halo; but the white hair that tenderly framed the +white face looked almost like a halo of silver, the little girl +thought. It was not a beautiful face; at any rate not what Lois would +have called beautiful beforehand. It had many wrinkles though the skin +was fresh and clear. The eyes looked, somehow, as if they had shed so +many tears long ago, that now there were no tears left to shed; +nothing remained but smiles. Perhaps that was the reason they were +nearly always smiling. As Lois looked up and saw that gentle old face +bending over her, it gave her the same sort of mysterious feeling that +she had when she gazed up into the cloudless blue sky at noonday, or +into a night sky full of stars. She seemed to be looking up, as high +as ever she could, into something infinitely far above her; and yet to +be looking down into something as well, deep down into an endless +depth. Or rather, she felt that she was neither looking up nor down, +but that she was looking_ through.... + +_'Why, Saints are a sort of window after all,' Lois said to herself, +as she gave a jump of joy,--'real windows! Only not the glass kind! I +have found out at last what makes a Saint, and what real live Saints +look like. It is not being killed only; though I suppose they must +always be ready to be killed. It is not being made of all the +difficult things inside only; though, of course, they must always be +full of them. It certainly isn't wearing ugly clothes or anything +horrid. I know now what really and truly, and most especially, makes a +Saint, and that is_ + + LETTING THE SUNLIGHT THROUGH!' + +_So Lois had found out something for herself at last, had she not? +Those are always the best sort of discoveries; but there are a great +many more things to find out about Saints that Lois never thought of, +in those days long ago. Most interesting things they are! That is one +comfort about Saints--they are always interesting, never dull. Dull is +the one thing that real Saints can never be, or they would stop being +Saints that very minute. Even when Saints are doing the dullest, +dreariest, most difficult tasks, they themselves are always packed +full of sunshine inside that cannot help streaming out over the dull +part and making it interesting._ + +_This is one thing to remember about Saints; but there are many other +things to discover. See if you can find out some of them in the +stories that follow._ + +_Only a few Saint stories are written here. You will read for +yourself, by and by, many others: stories of older Saints, and perhaps +of brighter Saints, or it may be even of saintlier Saints than these. +But in this book are written the stories of some of the Saints who did +not know that they were Saints at all: they thought that they were +just quite ordinary men and women and little children, and that makes +them rather specially comforting to us, who are just quite ordinary +people too._ + +_Moreover, these Quaker Saints never have been, never will be put on +glass windows, or given birthdays or haloes or emblems of their own, +like most of the other Saints. They have never even had their stories +told before in a way that it is easy for children to understand._ + +_That is why these particular stories have been written now, in this +particular book_ + + FOR YOU. + + + + +I. 'STIFF AS A TREE, PURE AS A BELL' + + + + + _'I am plenteuous in ioie in all + oure tribulacione.'--ST. PAUL + (Wiclif's Translation)._ + + + _'Stand firm like a smitten anvil + under the blows of a hammer; be + strong as an athlete of God, it is + part of a great athlete to receive + blows and to conquer.'--IGNATIUS._ + + + _'He was valiant for the truth, + bold in asserting it, patient in + suffering for it, unwearied in + labouring in it, steady in his + testimony to it, immoveable as a + rock.'--T. ELLWOOD about G. FOX._ + + + _'George Fox never lost his + temper--he left that to his + opponents: and he had the most + exasperating way of getting the + best of an argument. His Journal + ... is like a little rusty gate + which opens right into the heart + of the 17th Century, so that when + we go in by it--hey presto! we + find ourselves pilgrims with the + old Quaker in the strangest kind + of England.'--L.M. MACKAY._ + + + _'And there was never any + persecution that came but we saw + it was for good, and we looked + upon it to be good as from GOD. + And there was never any prisons or + sufferings that I was in, but + still it was for bringing + multitudes more out of + prison.'--G. FOX._ + + + + +I. 'STIFF AS A TREE, PURE AS A BELL' + + +When the days are lengthening in the spring, even though the worst of +the winter may be over, there is often a sharp tooth in the March wind +as it sweeps over the angry sea and bites into the north-eastern coast +of England. + +Children, warm and snug in cosy rooms, like to watch the gale and the +damage it does as it hurries past. It amuses them to see the wind at +its tricks, ruffling up the manes of the white horses far out at sea, +blowing the ships away from their moorings in the harbour, and playing +tricks upon the passers-by, when it comes ashore. Off fly stout old +gentlemen's hats, round like windmills go the smart ladies' skirts and +ribbons; even the milkman's fingers turn blue with cold. It is all +very well for children, safe indoors, to laugh at the antics of the +mischievous wind, even on the bleak north-eastern coast nowadays; but +in times long ago, that same wind could be a more cruel playfellow +still. Come back with me for two hundred and fifty years. Let us watch +the tricks the wind is playing on the prisoners in the castle high up +on Scarborough cliff in the year of our Lord 1666. + +Though the keen, cutting blast is the same, a very different +Scarborough lies around us from the Scarborough modern children know. +There is a much smaller town close down by the water's edge, and a +much larger castle covering nearly the whole of the cliff. + +Nowadays, when children go to Scarborough for their holidays in the +summer, as they run down the steep paths with their spades and buckets +to dig on the beach, they are too busy to pay much attention to the +high cliff that juts out against the sky above the steep red roofs of +the old town. But if they do look up for a moment they notice a pile +of grey stones at the very top of the hill. 'Oh, that is the old +ruined castle,' they say to themselves; and then they forget all about +it and devote themselves to the important task of digging a new castle +of their own that shall not crumble into ruins in its turn, as even +sand castles have an uncomfortable way of doing, if they are +unskilfully made. + +Those children are only modern children. They have not gone back, as +you and I are trying to do, two hundred and fifty long years up the +stream of time. If we are really to find out what Scarborough looked +like then, we must put on our thinking caps and flap our fancy wings, +and, shutting our eyes very tight, not open them again until that +long-ago Scarborough is really clear before us. Then, looking up at +the castle, what shall we see? The same hill of course, but so covered +with stately buildings that we can barely make out its outline. +Instead of one old pile of crumbling stones, roofless, doorless, +windowless, there is a massive fortress towering over us, ringed round +with walls and guarded with battlements and turrets. High above all +stands the frowning Norman Keep, of which only some of the thick outer +stones remain to-day. Scarborough Castle was a grand place, and a +strong place too, in the seventeenth century. + +In order to reach it, then as now, it was necessary to climb the long +flights of stone steps that stretch up from the lower town near the +water's edge to the high, arched gateway upon the Castle Hill. We will +climb those steps, only of course the stones were newer and cleaner +then, and less worn by generations of climbing feet. Up them we mount +till we reach the gateway with its threatening portcullis, where the +soldiers of King Charles the Second, in their jackboots, are walking +up and down on guard, determined to keep out all intruders. Intruders +we certainly are, seeing that we belong to another generation and +another century. There is no entrance at that gateway for us. Yet +except through that gateway there is no way into the castle, and all +the windows on this side are high up in the walls, and barred and +filled with strong thick glass. + +Now let us go round to the far side of the cliff where the castle +overlooks the sea. Here the fortress still frowns above us; but lower +down, nearer our level, we can see some holes and caves scooped out of +the solid rock, through which the wind blows and shrieks eerily. As +these caves can only be reached by going through the castle, some of +the prisoners are kept here for safety. The windows have no glass. +They are merely holes in the rock, open to fog and snow and bitter +wind. Another hole in the cliff does duty for a chimney after a +fashion, but even if the prisoners are allowed to light a fire they +are scarcely any warmer, for the whole cave becomes filled with smoke. +And now we must flap our fancy wings still more vigorously, until +somehow we stand outside one of those prison holes, scooped out of the +cliff, and can look down and see what is to be seen inside it. + +There is only one man in this particular prison cave, and what is he +doing? Is he moving about to keep himself warm? At first he seems to +be, for he walks from side to side without a moment's rest. Every now +and then he stretches his arm out of the window, apparently throwing +something away. He is certainly ill. His body and legs are badly +swollen, and there are great lumps in the places where his joints and +knuckles ought to be. Well then, if he is ill, why does he not lie +still in bed and rest and get well? For even in this wretched +cave-room there is something that looks like a bed in one corner. It +has no white sheets or soft blankets, but still it has four legs and a +sort of coverlet, and at least the prisoner could rest upon it, which +would be better for him than dancing about. Look again! The bed stands +under a gaping hole in the roof, and a stream of water is dripping +steadily down upon it. The coarse coverings must be soaked through +already, and the hard mattress too. It is really less like a bed than +a damp and nasty little pond. No wonder the prisoner does not choose +to lie there. But then, why not move the bed somewhere else? And what +is that round thing like a platter in his hand, and what is he doing +with it? Is he playing 'Turn the Trencher' to keep himself warm? + +Look again! How could he move the bed? He is in a tiny cave, and all +its walls are leaky. The bed must stand in that particular corner +because there is nowhere else that it could be placed. Now look down +at the floor. Notice how uneven it is, and the big pools of water +standing on it, and then you will understand what the prisoner is +doing. Indeed he is not playing 'Turn the Trencher'; he is trying to +scoop up some of the water in that shallow platter, because he has +nothing else in the room that will hold it. If he can do this fast +enough, and can manage to pour enough of the water away out of one of +the holes in the walls, he may be able to keep himself from being +flooded out, and thus he may preserve one little dry patch of floor, +dry enough for his swollen feet to stand on, till the storm is over. +But it is like trying to bale water out of a very leaky boat; for +always faster than he can scoop it up and pour it away, more rain +comes pouring in steadily, dripping and drenching. The wind shrieks +and whistles and the prisoner is numb with cold. + +What a wicked man he must be, to be punished by being put in this +dreadful place! Certainly, if he has committed some dreadful crime, he +has found a terrible punishment. But does he look wicked? See, at last +he is too stiff and weary to move about any longer. In spite of the +rain and the wind he sinks down exhausted upon a rickety chair and +draws it to the spot where there is the best chance of a little +shelter. There he sits in silence for some time. He is soaked to the +skin, as well as tired and stiff and hungry. There is a small mug by +the door, but it is empty and there is not a sign of food. Some bitter +water to drink and a small piece of bread are all the food he has had +to-day, and that is all gone now, for it was so very little. In this +place a small threepenny loaf of bread has sometimes to last for three +weeks. This poor man must be utterly miserable and wretched. But is +he? Let us watch him. + +Do you think he can be a wicked man after all? Is not the prisoner +being punished through some dreadful mistake? He looks kind and good, +and, stranger still, he looks happy, even through all his sufferings +in this horrible prison. His face has a sort of brightness in it, like +the mysterious light there is sometimes to be seen in a dark sky, +behind a thunderstorm. A radiance is about him too as if, in spite of +all he is enduring, he has some big joy that shines through everything +and makes it seem worth while. + +He is actually 'letting the sunlight through,' even in this dismal +place. Any one who can do that must be a very real and a very big +saint indeed. We must just find out all that we can about him. Let us +take a good look at him now, while we have the chance. Then we shall +know him another time, when we meet him again, having all sorts of +adventures in all sorts of places. It is impossible to see his eyes, +as he sits by the bed, for they are downcast, but we can see that he +has a long, nearly straight nose, and lips tightly pressed together. +His hair is parted and hangs down on each side of his head, stiff and +lank now, owing to the wet, but in happier days it must have hung in +little curls round his neck, just below his ears. He is a tall man, +with a big strong-looking body. In spite of the coarse clothes he +wears, there is a strange dignity about him. You feel something +drawing you to him, making you want to know more about him. + +You feel somehow as if you were in the presence of some one who is +very big, and that you yourself are very small, smaller perhaps than +you ever felt in your life. Yet you feel ready to do anything for him, +and, at the same time, you believe that, if only you could make him +know that you are there, he would be ready to do anything for you. +Even in this wretched den he carries himself with an air of authority, +as if he were accustomed to command. Now, at last he is looking up; +and we can see his eyes. Most wonderful eyes they are! Eyes that look +as if they could pierce through all sorts of disguises, and read the +deepest secrets of a man's heart. They are kind eyes too; and look as +if they could be extraordinarily tender at times. They are something +like a shepherd's eyes, as if they were accustomed to gazing out far +and wide in search of strayed sheep and lost lambs. Yet they are also +like the eyes of a Judge; thoroughly well able to distinguish right +from wrong. It would be terrible to meet those eyes after doing +anything the least bit crooked or shabby or untrue. They look as if +they would know at the first glance just how much excuses were worth; +and what was the truth. No wonder that once, when those eyes fell on a +man who was arguing on the wrong side, he felt ashamed all of a sudden +and cried out in terror: 'Do not pierce me so with thine eyes! Keep +thine eyes off me!' Another time when this same prisoner was reasoning +with a crowd of people, who did not agree with him, they all cried out +with one accord: 'Look at his eyes, look at his eyes!' And yet another +time when he was riding through an angry mob, in a city where men were +ready to take his life, they dared not touch him. 'Oh, oh,' they +cried, 'see, he shines! he glisters!' + +Then what happened next? We do not want to look at the prisoner in +fancy any longer. We want really to know about him: to hear the +beginnings and endings of those stories and of many others. And that +is exactly what we are going to do. The prisoner is going to tell us +his own true story in his own real words. There is no need for our +fancy wings any longer. They may shrivel up and drop off unheeded. For +that prisoner is GEORGE FOX, and he belongs to English history. He has +left the whole story of his life and adventures written in two large +folio volumes that may still be seen in London. The pages are so old +and the edges have worn so thin in the two hundred and fifty years +since they were written, that each page has had to be most carefully +framed in strong paper to keep it from getting torn. The ink is faded +and brown, and the writing is often crabbed and difficult to read. But +it can be read, and it is full of stories. In olden times, probably, +the book was bound in a brown leather cover, but now, because it is +very old and valuable, it has been clothed with beautiful red leather, +on which is stamped in gold letters, the title: + + GEORGE FOX'S JOURNAL. + +Now let us open it at the right place, and, before any of the other +stories, let us hear what the writer says about that dismal prison in +Scarborough Castle: how long he stayed there, and how he was at last +set free. + +'One day the governor of Scarborough castle, Sir Jordan Crosland, came +to see me. I desired the governor to go into my room and see what a +place I had. I had got a little fire made in it, and it was so filled +with smoke that when they were in it they could hardly find their way +out again.... I told him I was forced to lay out about fifty +shillings to stop out the rain, and keep the room from smoking so +much. When I had been at that charge and had made it somewhat +tolerable, they removed me into a worse room, where I had neither +chimney nor fire hearth.' + +(This last is the room in the castle cliff that is still called +'George Fox's prison,' where we have been standing in imagination and +looking in upon him. We will listen while he describes it again, so as +to get accustomed to his rather old-fashioned English.) + +'This being to the sea-side and lying much open, the wind drove in the +rain forcibly, so that the water came over my bed, and ran about the +room, that I was fain to skim it up with a platter. And when my +clothes were wet, I had no fire to dry them; so that my body was +benumbed with cold, and my fingers swelled, that one was grown as big +as two. Though I was at some charge in this room also, yet I could not +keep out the wind and rain.... Afterwards I hired a soldier to fetch +me water and bread, and something to make a fire of, when I was in a +room where a fire could be made. Commonly a threepenny loaf served me +three weeks, and sometimes longer, and most of my drink was water, +with wormwood steeped or bruised in it.... As to friends I was as a +man buried alive, for though many came far to see me, yet few were +suffered to come to me.... The officers often threatened that I should +be hanged over the wall. Nay, the deputy governor told me once, that +the King, knowing that I had a great interest in the people, had sent +me thither, that if there should be any stirring in the nation, they +should hang me over the wall to keep the people down. A while after +they talked much of hanging me. But I told them that if that was what +they desired and it was permitted them, I was ready; for I never +feared death nor sufferings in my life, but I was known to be an +innocent, peaceable man, free from all stirrings and plottings, and +one that sought the good of all men. Afterwards, the Governor growing +kinder, I spoke to him when he was going to London, and desired him to +speak to Esquire Marsh, Sir Francis Cobb, and some others, and let +them know how long I had lain in prison, and for what, and he did so. +When he came down again, he told me that Esquire Marsh said he would +go a hundred miles barefoot for my liberty, he knew me so well; and +several others, he said, spoke well of me. From which time the +Governor was very loving to me. + +'There were among the prisoners two very bad men, who often sat +drinking with the officers and soldiers; and because I would not sit +and drink with them, it made them the worse against me. One time when +these two prisoners were drunk, one of them (whose name was William +Wilkinson, who had been a captain), came in and challenged me to fight +with him. I seeing what condition he was in, got out of his way; and +next morning, when he was more sober, showed him how unmanly a thing +it was in him to challenge a man to fight, whose principle he knew it +was not to strike; but if he was stricken on one ear to turn the +other. I told him that if he had a mind to fight, he should have +challenged some of the soldiers, that could have answered him in his +own way. But, however, seeing he had challenged me, I was now come to +answer him, with my hands in my pockets: and, reaching my head +towards him, "Here," said I, "here is my hair, here are my cheeks, +here is my back." With that, he skipped away from me and went into +another room, at which the soldiers fell a-laughing; and one of the +officers said, "You are a happy man that can bear such things." Thus +he was conquered without a blow. + +'... After I had lain a prisoner above a year in Scarborough Castle, I +sent a letter to the King, in which I gave him an account of my +imprisonment, and the bad usage I had received in prison; and also I +was informed no man could deliver me but he. After this, John +Whitehead being at London, and being acquainted with Esquire Marsh, +went to visit him, and spoke to him about me; and he undertook, if +John Whitehead would get the state of my case drawn up, to deliver it +to the master of requests, Sir John Birkenhead, and endeavour to get a +release for me. So John Whitehead ... drew up an account of my +imprisonment and sufferings and carried it to Marsh; and he went with +it to the master of requests, who procured an order from the King for +my release. The substance of this order was that the King, being +certainly informed, that I was a man principled against plotting and +fighting, and had been ready at all times to discover plots, rather +than to make any, therefore his royal pleasure was, that I should be +discharged from my imprisonment. As soon as this order was obtained, +John Whitehead came to Scarborough with it and delivered it to the +Governor; who, upon receipt thereof, gathered the officers together, +... and being satisfied that I was a man of peaceable life, he +discharged me freely, and gave me the following passport:-- + +'"Permit the bearer hereof, 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 CROSLAND, Governor +of Scarborough Castle." + +'After I was released, I would have made the Governor a present for +his civility and kindness he had of late showed me; but he would not +receive anything; saying "Whatever good he could for me and my +friends, he would do it, and never do them any hurt." ... He continued +loving unto me unto his dying day. The officers also and the soldiers +were mightily changed, and became very respectful to me; when they had +occasion to speak of me they would say, "HE IS AS STIFF AS A TREE, AND +AS PURE AS A BELL; FOR WE COULD NEVER BOW HIM."' + + + + +II. 'PURE FOY, MA JOYE' + + + + + _'Outwardly there was little + resemblance between George Fox and + Francis of Assisi, between the + young Leicestershire Shepherd of + the XVIIth Century and the young + Italian merchant of the XIIIth, + but they both felt the power of + GOD and yielded themselves wholly + to it: both left father and mother + and home: both defied the opinions + of their time: both won their way + through bitter opposition to solid + success: both cast themselves + "upon the infinite love of GOD": + both were most truly surrendered + souls; but Francis submitted + himself to established authority, + Fox only to the spirit of GOD + speaking in the single soul.'_ + + _'In solitude and silence Fox found + GOD and heard Him. He proclaimed + that the Kingdom of GOD is the + Kingdom of a living Spirit Who + holds converse with His + people.'--BISHOP WESTCOTT._ + + + _'Some place their religion in + books, some in images, some in the + pomp and splendour of external + worship, but some with illuminated + understandings hear what the Holy + Spirit speaketh in their + hearts'--THOMAS À KEMPIS._ + + + _'Lord, when I look upon mine own + life it seems Thou hast led me so + carefully, so tenderly, Thou canst + have attended to none else; but + when I see how wonderfully Thou + hast led the world and art leading + it, I am amazed that Thou hast had + time to attend to such as + I.'--AUGUSTINE._ + + + + +II. 'PURE FOY, MA JOYE' + + +'He is stiff as a tree and pure as a bell, and we could never bow +him.' So spoke the rough soldiers of Scarborough Castle of their +prisoner, George Fox, after he had been set at liberty. A splendid +thing it was for soldiers to say of a prisoner whom they had held +absolutely in their power. But a tree does not grow stiff all at once. +It takes many years for a tiny seedling to grow into a sturdy oak. A +bell has to undergo many processes before it gains its perfect form +and pure ringing note. And a whole lifetime of joys and sorrows had +been needed to develop the 'stiffness' (or steadfastness, as we should +call it now) and purity of character that astonished the soldiers in +their prisoner. There will not be much story in this history of George +Fox's early days, but it is the foundation-stone on which most of the +later stories will be built. + + * * * * * + +It was in July 1624, the last year in which James the First, King of +England, ruled in his palace at Whitehall, that far away in a quiet +Leicestershire village their first baby was born to a weaver and his +wife. They lived in a small cottage with a thatched roof and wooden +shutters, in a village then known as 'Drayton-in-the-Clay,' because of +the desolate waters of the marshlands that lay in winter time close +round the walls of the little hamlet. Even though the fens and marshes +have now long ago been drained and turned into fertile country, the +village is still called 'Fenny Drayton.' The weaver's name was +Christopher Fox. His wife's maiden name had been Mary Lago; and the +name they gave to their first little son was George. + +Mary Lago came 'of the stock of the martyrs': that is to say, either +her parents or her grand-parents had been put to death for their +faith. They had been burnt at the stake, probably, in one of the +persecutions in the reign of Queen Mary. From her 'martyr stock' Mary +Lago must have learned, when she was quite a little girl, to worship +God in purity of faith. Later on, after she had become the mother of +little George, it was no wonder that her baby son sitting on her knee, +looking up into her face, or listening to her stories, learned from +the very beginning to try to be 'Pure as a Bell.' + +Mary Lago's husband, Christopher Fox, did not come 'of the stock of +the martyrs,' but evidently he had inherited from his ancestors plenty +of tough courage and sturdy sense. Almost the only story remembered +about him is that one day he stuck his cane into the ground after +listening to a long dispute and exclaimed: 'Now I see that if a man +will but stick to the truth it will bear him out.' + +When little George grew old enough to scramble down from his mother's +knee and to walk with unsteady steps across the stone-flagged floor of +the cottage, there was his weaver father sitting at his loom, making a +pleasant rhythmic sound that filled the small house with music. As the +boy watched the skilful hands sending the flying shuttle in and out +among the threads, he learned from his father, not only the right way +to weave good reliable stuff, but also how to weave the many coloured +threads of everyday life into a strong character. The village +people called his father 'Righteous Christer,' which shows that he too +must have been 'stiff as a tree' in following what he knew to be +right; for a name like that is not very easily earned where village +eyes are sharp and village tongues are shrewd. + +[Illustration: THE BOYHOOD OF GEORGE FOX] + +Less than a mile from the weaver's cottage stood the Church and the +Manor House side by side. The churchyard had a wall of solid red +bricks, overshadowed by a border of solemn old yew-trees. The Manor +House was encircled by a moat on which graceful white swans swam to +and fro. For centuries the Purefoy family had been Squires of Drayton +village. They had inhabited the Manor House while they were alive, and +had been buried in the churchyard close by after they were dead. The +present Squire was a certain COLONEL GEORGE PUREFOY. It may have been +after him that 'Righteous Christer' called his eldest son George, or +it may have been after that other George, 'Saint George for Merrie +England,' whose image killing the Dragon was to be seen engraved on +each rare golden 'noble' that found its way to the weaver's home. +Christopher and Mary Fox were both of them possessed of more education +than was usual among country people at that time, when reading and +writing were still rare accomplishments. 'Righteous Christer' was an +important man in the small village. Besides being a weaver, he was +also a churchwarden, and was able to sign his own name in bold +characters, as may still be seen to-day in the parish registers, where +his fellow-churchwarden, being unable to read or write, was only able +to sign his name with a cross. Unfortunately this same register, +which ought to record the exact day of July 1624 on which little +George was baptized here in the old church, no longer mentions him, +since, more than a hundred years after his time, the wife of the +Sexton of Fenny Drayton, running short of paper to cover her jam-pots, +must needs lay hands on the valuable Church records and tear out a few +priceless pages just here. So, although several other brothers and +sisters followed George and came to live in the weaver's cottage +during the next few years, we know none of their ages or birthdays, +until we come to the record of the baptism of the youngest sister +Sarah. Happily her page came last of all, after the Sexton's jam was +finished, and thus Sarah's name escaped being made into the lid of a +jam-pot. But we will hope that the weaver and his wife remembered and +kept all their children's birthdays on the right days, even though +they are forgotten now. However that may have been, George's parents +'endeavoured to train him up, as they did their other children, in the +common way of worship--his mother especially being eminent for piety: +but even from a child he was seen to be of another frame of mind from +his brethren, for he was more religious, retired, still and solid, and +was also observing beyond his age. His mother, seeing this +extraordinary temper and godliness, which so early did shine through +him, so that he would not meddle with childish games, carried herself +indulgent towards him.... Meanwhile he learned to read pretty well, +and to write as much as would serve to signify his meaning to others.' + +When he saw older people behaving in a rowdy, frivolous way, it +distressed him, and the little boy used to say to himself: 'If ever I +come to be a man, surely I will not be so wanton.' + +'When I came to eleven years of age,' he says himself in his Journal, +'I knew pureness and righteousness; for while I was a child I was +taught how to walk so as to be kept pure, and to be faithful in two +ways, both inwardly to God, and outwardly to man, and to keep to Yea +and Nay in all things.' + +At that time there was a law obliging everybody to attend Church on +Sundays, and as the services lasted for several hours at a time, the +weaver's children doubtless had time to look about them, and learned +to know the stones of the old church well. When the Squire and his +family were at home they sat in the Purefoy Chapel in the North Aisle. +From this Chapel a door in the wall opened on to a path that led +straight over the drawbridge across the moat to the Manor House. It +must have been interesting for all the village children to watch for +the opening and shutting of that door. But up in the chancel there +was, and still is, something even more interesting: the big tomb that +a certain Mistress Jocosa or Joyce Purefoy had put up to the memory of +her husband, who had died in the days of good Queen Bess. + +'PURE FOY, MA JOYE,' the black letters of the family motto, can still +be read on a marble scroll. If George in his boyhood ever asked his +mother what the French words meant, Mary Fox, who was, we are told, +'accomplished above her degree in the place where she lived,' may have +been able to tell him that they mean, in English, 'Pure faith is my +Joy'; or that, keeping the rhyme, they might be translated as +follows:-- + + 'MY FAITH PURE, MY JOY SURE.' + +Then remembering what had happened in her own family, surely she would +add, 'And I, who come of martyr stock, know that that is true. Even if +you have to suffer for it, my son, even if you have to die for it, +keep your Faith pure, and your Joy will be sure in the end.' + +Then Righteous Christer would take the little lad up on his shoulder +and show him the broken spear above the tomb, the crest of the +Purefoys, and tell him its story. Hundreds of years before, one of the +Squires of this family had defended his liege lord on the battle-field +at the risk of his own life, and even after his weapon, a spear, had +been broken in his hand. His lord, out of gratitude for this, had +given his faithful follower, not only the right to wear the broken +spear in token of his valour ever after as a crest, but also by his +name and by his motto to proclaim to all men the PURE FAITH (PUREFOY) +that had given him this sure and lasting joy. Ever since, for hundreds +of years, the Purefoy family had handed down, by their name, by their +motto, and by the broken spear on their crest, this noble tradition of +loyalty and allegiance--enshrined like a shining jewel in the centre +of the muddy village of Drayton-in-the-Clay. + +This was not the only battle story the boy must have known well. A few +miles from Fenny Drayton is 'the rising ground of Market Bosworth,' +better known as Bosworth Field. As he grew older George loved to +wander over the fields that surrounded his birthplace. He 'must have +often passed the site of Henry's camp, perhaps may have drunk +sometimes at the well at which Richard is said to have quenched his +thirst.' But although his home was near this old battlefield, the boy +grew up in a peaceful England. Probably no one in Fenny Drayton +imagined that in a very few years the smiling English meadows would +once more be drenched in blood. George Fox in his country home was +brought up to follow country pursuits, and was especially skilful in +the management of sheep. He says in his Journal: 'As I grew up, my +relations thought to have made me a priest, but others persuaded to +the contrary. Whereupon I was put to a man who was a shoemaker by +trade, and dealt in wool. He also used grazing and sold cattle; and a +great deal went through my hands. While I was with him he was blest, +but after I left him, he broke and came to nothing. I never wronged +man or woman in all that time.... While I was in that service, I used +in my dealings the word "Verily," and it was a common saying among +those that knew me, "if George says Verily, there is no altering him." +When boys and rude persons would laugh at me, I let them alone, but +people generally had a love to me for my innocence and honesty. + +'When I came towards 19 years of age, being upon business at a Fair, +one of my cousins, whose name was Bradford, a professor, having +another professor with him, asked me to drink part of a jug of beer +with them. I, being thirsty, went with them, for I loved any that had +a sense of good. When we had drunk a glass apiece, they began to drink +healths and called for more drink, agreeing together that he that +would not drink should pay for all. I was grieved that they should do +so, and putting my hand into my pocket took out a groat and laid it on +the table before them, saying, "If it be so, I will leave you." So I +went away, and when I had done my business I returned home, but did +not go to bed that night, nor could I sleep, but sometimes walked up +and down and prayed and cried unto the Lord, who said to me: "Thou +must forsake all, young and old, keep out of all and be a stranger to +all." + +'Then at the command of God, the 9th of the 7th month,[1] 1643, I left +my relations, and broke off all familiarity or fellowship with young +or old.' + +The old-fashioned English of the 'Journal' makes this story rather +puzzling at the first reading, because several words have changed in +meaning since it was written. The name 'professors,' did not then mean +learned men who teach or lecture in a University, but any men who +'professed' to be particularly religious and good. These +'professionally religious people' are generally known as 'the +Puritans,' and it was meeting with these bad specimens among them who +'professed' a religion they did not attempt to practise, that so +dismayed George Fox. Here at any rate 'Pure Faith' was not being kept +either to God or men. He must find a more solid foundation on which to +rest his own soul's loyalty and allegiance. Over the porch of the +Church at Fenny Drayton is painted now, not the Purefoy motto, but the +words: 'I will go forth in the strength of the Lord God.' It was from +this place that George Fox set forth on the long search for a 'Pure +Faith' that, when he found it, was to bring both to him and to many +thousands of his countrymen a 'Sure Joy.' + +Why Righteous Christer and his wife did not help George more at this +time remains a puzzle. They may have been afraid lest he was making a +terrible mistake in leaving the worship they knew and followed, or +they may have guessed that God was really calling him to do some work +for Him bigger than they could understand, and may have felt that they +could help their boy best by leaving him free to follow the Voice that +spoke to him in the depths of his own heart, even if he had to fight +his own battles unaided. Or possibly their thoughts were too full of +all the actual battles that were filling the air just then to think +any other troubles important. For our Quaker Saints are not legendary +people; they are a real part of English History. + +All through the years of George's boyhood the struggle between King +Charles the First and his Parliament had been getting more tense and +embittered. The abolition of the Star Chamber (May 1640), the +attempted arrest of the five Members (October 1642), the trial and +death, first of Strafford (May 1641) and then of Laud (January +1645)--all these events had been convulsing the great heart of the +English nation during the long years while young George had been +quietly keeping his master's sheep and cattle in his secluded +Leicestershire village. + +A year before he left home the long-dreaded Civil War had at last +broken out. But the Civil War that broke out in the soul of the young +shepherd lad, the struggle between good and evil when he saw his +Puritan cousin tempting other people to drink and carouse, was to him +a more momentous event than all the outward battles that were raging. +His Journal hardly mentions the rival armies of King and Parliament +that were marching through the land. Yet in reading of his early +struggles in his own spirit, we must always keep in the background of +our minds the thought of the great national struggle that was raging +at the same time. It was not in the orderly, peaceful, settled England +of his earliest years that the boy grew to manhood, but in an England +that was being torn asunder by the rival faiths and passions of her +sons. Men's minds were filled with the perplexities of great national +problems of Church and State, of tyranny and freedom. No wonder that +at such a time everyone was too busy to spare much sympathy or many +thoughts for the spiritual perplexities of one obscure country lad. + +Right into the very middle, then, of this troubled, seething England, +George Fox plunged when he left his home at Fenny Drayton. The battle +of Marston Moor was fought the following year, July 1644, and Naseby +the summer after that. But George was not heeding outward battles. Up +and down the country he walked, seeking for help in his spiritual +difficulties from all the different kinds of people he came across; +and there were a great many different kinds. The England of that day +was not only torn by Civil War, it was also split up into innumerable +different sects, now that the attempt to force everyone to worship +according to one prescribed fashion was at length being abandoned. In +one small Yorkshire town it is recorded that there were no less than +forty of these sects worshipping in different ways about this time, +while new sects were continually arising. + +Perhaps it was a generous wish to give the professors another chance +and not to judge the whole party from the bad specimens he had met, +that made George go back to the Puritans for help. At first they made +much of the young enquirer; but, alas! they all had the same defect as +those he had met already. Their spoken profession sounded very fine, +but they did not carry it out in their lives. + +'They sought to be acquainted with me, but I was afraid of them, for I +was sensible they did not possess what they professed.' In other +words, their faith did not ring true. The professors were certainly +not 'Pure as a Bell.' + +George Fox's test was always the same, both for his own religion and +other people's: 'Is this faith real? Is it true? Can you actually live +out what you profess to believe? And do you? Is your faith pure? Is +your joy sure?' + +Finding that, in the case of the professors, a sorrowful 'No' was the +only answer that their lives gave to these questions, George says: 'A +strong temptation to despair came over me. I then saw how Christ was +tempted, and mighty troubles I was in. Sometimes I kept myself retired +in my chamber, and often walked solitary in the Chace to wait upon the +Lord.' + +It must not be forgotten that part of the Puritan worship consisted in +making enormously long prayers in spoken words, and preaching sermons +that lasted several hours at a time. George Fox became more and more +sure that this was not the worship God wanted from him, as he thought +over these matters in solitude under the trees of Barnet Chace. + +After a time he went back to his relations in Leicestershire. They saw +the youth was unhappy, and very naturally thought it would be far +better for him to settle down and have a happy home of his own than to +go wandering about the country in distress about the state of his +soul. + +'Being returned into Leicestershire, my relations would have had me +married; but I told them I was but a lad and must get wisdom.' Other +people said: 'No, don't marry him yet. Put him into the auxiliary band +among the soldiery. Once he gets fighting, that will soon knock the +notions out of his head.' + +Young George would not consent to this plan either. He had his own +battle to fight, his own victory to win, unaided and alone. He did not +yet know that it was useless for him to seek for outward help. Being +still only a lad of nineteen he thought that surely there must be +someone among his elders who could help him, if only he could find out +the right person. Having failed with the professors, he determined +next to consult the priests and see if they could advise him in his +perplexities. 'Priests' is another word that has changed its meaning +almost as much as 'professors' has done. By 'priests' George Fox does +not mean Anglican or Roman Catholic clergy, but simply men of any +denomination who were paid for preaching. At this particular time the +English Rectories and Vicarages were mostly occupied by Presbyterians +and Independents. It was they who preached and who were paid for +preaching in the village churches, which is what he means by calling +them 'priests' in his Journal. + +In these stories there is no need to think of George Fox as arguing or +fighting against real Christianity in any of the churches. He was +fighting, rather, against sham religion, formality and hypocrisy +wherever he found them. In that great fight all who truly love Truth +and God are on the same side, even though they are called by different +names. So remember that these old labels that he uses for his +opponents have changed their meaning very considerably in the three +hundred years that have passed since his birth. Remember too that the +world had had at that time nearly three hundred years less in which to +learn good manners than it has now. The manners and customs of the day +were much rougher than those of modern times. However much we may +disagree with people, there is no need for us to tell them so in the +same sort of harsh language that was too often used by George Fox and +his contemporaries. + +To these Presbyterian priests, therefore, George went next to ask for +counsel and help. The first he tried was the Reverend Nathaniel +Stephens, the priest of his own village of Fenny Drayton. At first +Priest Stephens and young George seemed to get on very well together. +Another priest was often with Stephens, and the two learned men would +often talk and argue with the boy, and be astonished at the wise +answers he gave. 'It is a very good, full answer,' Stephens once said +to George, 'and such an one as I have not heard.' He applauded the boy +and spoke highly of him, and even used the answers he gave in his own +sermons on Sundays. This was a compliment, but it cost him George's +friendship and respect, because he felt it was a deceitful practice. +The Journal says: 'What I said in discourse to him on week-days, he +would preach of on first days, which gave me a dislike to him. This +priest afterwards became my great persecutor.' + +Priest Stephens' wife was also very much opposed to Fox, and it is +said that on one occasion she 'very unseemly plucked and haled him up +and down, and scoffed and laughed.' Fox always felt that this priest +and his wife were his bitter foes; but other people described Priest +Stephens as 'a good scholar and a useful preacher, in his younger days +a very hard student, in his old age pleasant and cheerful.' So, as +generally happens, there may have been a friendly side to this couple +for those who took them the right way. + +After this, Fox continues, 'I went to another ancient priest at +Mancetter in Warwickshire, and reasoned with him about the ground of +despair and temptations; but he was ignorant of my condition; he bade +me take tobacco and sing psalms. Tobacco was a thing I did not love, +and psalms I was not in a state to sing; I could not sing. Then he bid +me come again and he would tell me many things; but when I came he was +angry and pettish; for my former words had displeased him. He told my +troubles, sorrows and griefs to his servants so that it got among the +milk-lasses. It grieved me that I should have opened my mind to such a +one. I saw they were all miserable comforters, and this brought my +troubles more upon me. Then I heard of a priest living about Tamworth, +which was accounted an experienced man, and I went seven miles to +him; but I found him like an empty hollow cask. I heard also of one +called Dr. Craddock of Coventry, and went to him. I asked him the +ground of temptations and despair, and how troubles came to be wrought +in man? He asked me, "Who was Christ's Father and Mother?" I told him +Mary was His Mother, and that He was supposed to be the son of Joseph, +but He was the Son of God. Now, as we were walking together in his +garden, the alley being narrow, I chanced, in turning, to set my foot +on the side of a bed, at which the man was in a rage, as if his house +had been on fire. Thus all our discourse was lost, and I went away in +sorrow, worse than I was when I came. I thought them miserable +comforters, and saw they were all as nothing to me; for they could not +reach my condition. After this I went to another, one Macham, a priest +in high account. He would needs give me some physic, and I was to have +been let blood; but they could not get one drop of blood from me, +either in arms or head (though they endeavoured to do so), my body +being, as it were, dried up with sorrows, grief and troubles, which +were so great upon me that I could have wished I had never been born, +or that I had been born blind, that I might never have seen wickedness +or vanity; and deaf, that I might never have heard vain and wicked +words, or the Lord's name blasphemed. When the time called Christmas +came, while others were feasting and sporting themselves, I looked out +poor widows from house to house, and gave them some money. When I was +invited to marriages (as I sometimes was) I went to none at all, but +the next day, or soon after, I would go to visit them; and if they +were poor, I gave them some money; for I had wherewith both to keep +myself from being chargeable to others, and to administer something to +the necessities of those who were in need.' + +Three years passed in this way, and then at last the first streaks of +light began to dawn in the darkness. They came, not in any sudden or +startling way, but little by little his soul was filled with the hope +of dawn: + + Silently as the morning + Comes on when night is done, + Or the crimson streak, on ocean's cheek, + Grows into the great sun. + +He says, 'About the beginning of the year 1646, as I was going into +Coventry, a consideration arose in me how it was said, "All Christians +are believers, both Protestants and Papists," and the Lord opened to +me, that if all were believers, then they were all born of God, and +were passed from death unto life, and that none were true believers +but such, and though others said they were believers, yet they were +not.' + +Possibly George Fox was looking up at the 'Three Tall Spires' of +Coventry when this thought came to him, and remembering in how many +different ways Christians had worshipped under their shadow: first the +Latin Mass, then the order of Common Prayer, and now the Puritan +service. 'At another time,' he says, 'as I was walking in a field on a +first day morning, the Lord opened to me "That being bred at Oxford or +Cambridge was not enough to fit and qualify men to be ministers of +Christ:" and I wondered at it because it was the common belief of +people. But I saw it clearly as the Lord had opened it to me, and was +satisfied and admired the goodness of the Lord, who had opened the +thing to me this morning.... So that which opened in me struck I saw +at the priests' ministry. But my relations were much troubled that I +would not go with them to hear the priest; for I would go into the +orchard or the fields with my Bible by myself.... I saw that to be a +true believer was another thing than they looked upon it to be ... so +neither them nor any of the dissenting people could I join with. + +'At another time it was opened in me, "That God who made the world did +not dwell in temples made with hands." This at the first seemed +strange, because both priests and people used to call their temples or +churches dreadful places, holy ground and the temples of God. But the +Lord showed me clearly that He did not dwell in these temples which +men had made, but in people's hearts.' + +In this way George Fox had found out for himself three of the +foundation truths of a pure faith:-- + + 1st. That all Christians are believers, Protestants and Papists + alike. + + 2nd. That Christ was come to teach His people Himself. + + 3rd. That the Temple in which God wishes to dwell is in the + hearts of His children. + +Now that George Fox was sure of these three things, it troubled him +less if he was with people whose beliefs he could not share. + +The first set of people he came among believed that women had no +souls, 'no more than a goose has a soul' added one of them in a light, +jesting tone. George Fox reproved them and told them it was a wrong +thing to say, and added that Mary in her song said, 'My soul doth +magnify the Lord, My spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour,' so she +must have had a soul. George by this time had learned to know his +Bible so well in the long quiet hours out of doors, when it had been +his only companion, that it was easy to him to find the exact +quotation he wanted in an argument. It was said of him, later on, by +wise and learned men, that if the Bible itself were ever to be lost it +might almost be found again in the mouth of George Fox, so well did he +know it. + +The next set of people he came to were great dreamers. They guided +their lives in the daytime according to the dreams they had happened +to dream during the night. And I should think a fine mess they must +have made of things! George helped these dreamers to know more of +realities, till, later on, many of them came out of their dream-world +and became Friends. + +After this at last he came upon a set of people who really did seem to +understand him and to care for the same things that he did. They were +called 'Shattered Baptists,' because they had broken off from the +other Baptists in the neighbourhood who 'did the Lord's work +negligently' and did not act up to what they professed. This was the +very same fault that had driven George forth from among the professors +at the beginning of his long quest. It is easy to imagine that he and +these people were happy together. 'With these,' he says, 'I had some +meetings and discourses, but my troubles continued and I was often +under great temptations. I fasted much, walked abroad in solitary +places many days, and often took my Bible and sat in hollow trees and +lonesome places till night came on, and frequently in the night walked +about by myself.... O the everlasting love of God to my soul, when I +was in great distress! when my troubles and torments were great, then +was His love exceeding great.... When all my hopes in all men were +gone so that I had nothing outwardly to help me, nor could I tell what +to do, then, O then, I heard a Voice which said, "There is one, even +Christ Jesus, that can speak to thy condition." When I heard it, my +heart did leap for joy.' + +This message was like the rising of the sun to George Fox. The long +night of darkness was over now, the sun had risen, and though there +might be clouds and storms ahead of him still he had come out into the +full clear light of day. + +'My desires after the Lord grew stronger,' he writes, 'and zeal in the +pure knowledge of God and of Christ alone, without the help of any +man, book, or writing.... Then the Lord gently led me along and let me +see His love which was endless and eternal, surpassing all the +knowledge that men have in the natural state or can get by history and +books. That love let me see myself as I was without him.... At another +time I saw the great love of God, and was filled with admiration at +the infiniteness of it.' + +The truths that George Fox is trying to express are difficult to put +into words. It is the more difficult for us to understand what he +means because his language is not quite the same as ours. Other words +besides 'priest' and 'professor' have altered their meanings. When he +speaks of having had things 'opened' to him, we should be more likely +to say he had had them revealed to him, or had had a revelation. +Perhaps these 'openings' and 'seeings' that he describes, though they +meant much to him, do not sound to us now like very great discoveries. +They are only what we have been accustomed to hear all our lives. But +then, whom have we to thank for that? In large measure George Fox +himself. + +In the immense bush forests that cover an unexplored country or +continent the first man who attempts to make a track through them has +the hardest task. He has to guess the right direction, to cut down the +first trees, to 'blaze a trail,' to help every one who follows him to +find the way a little more easily. That man is called a Pioneer. +George Fox was a pioneer in the spiritual world. He discovered a true +path for himself, a path leading right through the thick forest of +human selfishness and sin and out into the bright sunshine beyond. In +his lonely Quest through those years of struggle he was indeed +'blazing a trail' for us. If the track we tread nowadays is smooth and +easy to tread, that is because of the pioneers who have gone before +us. Our ease has been gained through their labours and sufferings and +steadfastness. + +The track was not fully clear even yet to George Fox. He had more to +learn before he could make the right path plain to others; more to +learn, but chiefly more to suffer. To strengthen him beforehand for +those sufferings, he was given an assurance that never afterwards +entirely left him. 'I saw the Infinite Love of God. I saw also that +there was an ocean of darkness and death; but an infinite ocean of +light and love which flowed over the ocean of darkness. In that also I +saw the infinite love of God, and I had great openings.' The Quest was +ended. Faith was pure, and Joy was sure at last. + +'Now was I come up in spirit, through the flaming sword, into the +Paradise of God. All things were made new, and all the creation gave +another smell to me beyond what words can utter. I knew nothing but +pureness, innocency, and righteousness, being renewed up to the image +of God by Christ Jesus.... Great things did the Lord lead me into, and +wonderful depths were opened to me, beyond what can by words be +declared; but as people come into subjection by the Spirit of God, and +grow up in the Image and Power of the Almighty they may receive the +word of wisdom that opens all things, and come to know the hidden +unity in the Eternal Being.' + +'Thus travelled I in the Lord's service, as He led me.' + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] The 7th month would be September, because the years then began +with March. + + + + +III. THE ANGEL OF BEVERLEY + + + + + _'To instruct young lasses and + maidens in whatever things was + useful in the creation.'--R. + ABRAHAM._ + + + _'It was the age of long + discourses and ecstatic + exercises.'--MORLEY'S CROMWELL._ + + + _'George Fox's preaching, in those + early years, chiefly consisted of + some few, but powerful and + piercing words, to those whose + hearts were already in some + measure prepared to be capable of + receiving this doctrine.'--SEWEL'S + HISTORY._ + + + _'But at the first convincement + when friends could not put off + their hats to people, nor say you + to a particular but thee and thou; + and could not bowe nor use the + world's fashions nor customs ... + people would not trade with them + nor trust them ... but afterwards + people came to see friends honesty + and truthfulness.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'The light which shows us our + sins is that which heals us.'--G. + FOX._ + + + _'GOD works slowly.'--BISHOP + WESTCOTT._ + + + + +III. THE ANGEL OF BEVERLEY + + +Among all the children of Drayton village who watched eagerly for the +door to open into the Purefoy Chapel on Sundays, when the Squire's +family were at home, none watched for it more intently than blue-eyed +Cecily, the old huntsman's granddaughter. Cecily's parents were both +dead, and she lived with her grandfather in one of the twin lodges +that guarded the Manor gates. Old Thomas had fought at the Squire's +side abroad in years gone by. Now, aged and bent, he, too, watched for +that door to open, as he sat in his accustomed place in the church +with Cecily by his side. Old Thomas's eyes followed his master +lovingly, when Colonel Purefoy entered, heading the little +procession,--a tall, erect, soldierly-looking man, though his hair was +decidedly grey, and grey too was the pointed beard that he still wore +over a small ruff, in the fashion of the preceding reign. + +Close behind him came his wife. The village people spoke of her as +'Madam,' since, although English born, and, indeed, possessed of +considerable property in her own native county of Yorkshire, she was +attached to the Court of Queen Henrietta Maria, and had caught +something of the foreign grace of her French mistress. + +But it was the two children for whose coming Cecily waited most +eagerly, as they followed their parents. Edward Purefoy, the heir, a +tall, handsome boy, came in first, leading by the hand his dainty +little sister Jocosa, who seemed too fairy-like to support the +stately family name, and who was generally known by its shorter form +of Joyce. + +Last of all came a portly waiting-maid, carrying a silky-haired +spaniel on a cushion under each arm. These petted darlings, King +Charles' own special favourites, were all the rage at Court at this +time, and accompanied their masters and mistresses everywhere, even to +church, where--fortunate beings--they were allowed to slumber +peacefully on cushions at their owners' feet throughout the long +services, when mere human creatures were obliged at any rate to +endeavour to keep awake. + +Cecily had no eyes to spare, even for the pet-dogs, on the eventful +Sunday when the Squire and his family first appeared again at church +after an unusually long absence. For there was little Mistress Jocosa, +all clad in white satin, like a princess in a fairy tale, and as +pretty as a picture. And so the great Court painter, Sir Anthony +Vandyck, must have thought, seeing he had chosen to paint her portrait +and make a picture of her himself in this same costume, with its +stiff, straight, shining skirt, tight bodice, pointed lace collar, and +close-fitting transparent cap that covered, but could not hide, the +waves of dark crisp hair. When Cecily discovered that a string of +pearls was clasped round the other little girl's neck, she gave a long +gasp of delight, a gasp that ended in an irrepressible sigh. For, a +moment later, this dazzling vision, with its dancing eyes, delicate +features, and glowing cheeks, was lost to sight. All through the +remainder of the service it stayed hidden in the depths of the high +old family pew, whence nothing could be seen save the top of the +Squire's silver head, rising occasionally, like an erratic half moon, +over the edge of the dark oak wood. + +Not another glimpse was to be had of the white satin princess; there +was no one to look at but the ordinary village folk whom Cecily could +see every day of her life: young George Fox, for instance, the +Weaver's son, who was staring straight before him as usual, paying not +the smallest heed to the entrance of all these marvellous beings. +Fancy staring at the marble tomb erected by a long dead Lady Jocosa, +and never even noticing her living namesake of to-day, with all her +sparkles and flushes! Truly the Weaver's son was a strange lad, as the +whole village knew. + +A strange boy indeed, Joyce Purefoy thought in her turn, as, passing +close by him on her way out of church, she happened to look up and to +meet the steady gaze of the young eyes that were at the same time so +piercing and yet so far away. She could not see his features clearly, +since the sun, pouring in through a tall lancet window behind him, +dazzled her eyes. Yet, even through the blurr of light, she felt the +clear look that went straight through and found the real Joyce lying +deep down somewhere, though hidden beneath all the finery with which +she had hoped to dazzle the village children. + +Late that same evening it was no fairy princess but a contrite little +girl who approached her mother's side at bed-time. + +'Forgive me, mother mine, I did pick just a few cherries from the tree +above the moat,' she whispered hesitatingly 'I was hot and they were +juicy. Then, when you and my father crossed the bridge on our way to +church and asked me had I taken any, I,--no--I did not exactly forget, +but I suppose I disremembered, and I said I had not had one.' + +'Jocosa!' exclaimed her mother sternly: 'What! You a Purefoy and my +daughter, yet not to be trusted to tell the truth! For the cherries, +they are a small matter, I gave you plenty myself later, but to lie +about even a trifle, it is that, that I mind.' + +The little girl hung her head still lower. 'I know,' she said, 'it was +shameful. Yet, in truth, I did confess at length.' + +'True,' answered her mother, 'and therefore thou art forgiven, and +without a punishment; only remember thy name and take better heed of +thy Pure Faith another time. What made thee come and tell me even +now?' + +'The sight of the broken spear in church,' stammered the little girl. +'That began it, and then I partly remembered....' + +She got no further. Even to her indulgent mother (and Madam Purefoy +was accounted an unwontedly tender parent in those days), Joyce could +not explain how it was, that, as the glance from those grave boyish +eyes fell upon her, out of the sunlit window, her 'disremembering' +became suddenly a weight too heavy to be borne. + +Jocosa Purefoy never forgot that Sunday, or her childish fault. + + * * * * * + +The visits of the Squire and his family to the old Manor House were +few and far between. The estates in Yorkshire that Madam Purefoy had +brought to her husband on her marriage were the children's real home. +It was several years after this before Cecily saw her fairy princess +again. The next glimpse was even more fleeting than their appearance +in church, just a mere flash at the lodge gates as Jocosa and her +brother cantered past on their way out for a day's hunting. Old +Thomas, sitting in his arm-chair in the sun, looked critically and +enviously at the man-servant who accompanied them. 'Too young--too +young,' he muttered. His own hunting days were long past, but he could +not bear, even crippled with rheumatism as he was, that any one but +he, who had taught their father to sit a horse, should ride to hounds +with his children. + +Cecily had some envious thoughts too. 'I should like very well to wear +a scarlet riding-dress and fur tippet, and a long red feather in my +hat, and go a-hunting on old Snowball, instead of having to stop at +home and take care of grandfather and mind the house.' + +After she had closed the heavy iron gates with a clang, she pressed +her nose between the bars and looked wistfully along the straight +road, carried on its high causeway above the fens, down which the gay +riders were swiftly disappearing. + +But, in spite of envious looks, the gaiety of the day was short-lived. +During the very first run, Snowball put her foot into a rabbit-hole, +and almost came down. 'Lamed herself, sure enough,' said the +man-servant grimly. No more hunting for Snowball that day. The best +that could be hoped was that she might be able to carry her little +mistress's light weight safely home, at a walking pace, over the few +miles that separated them from Drayton. Joyce could not return alone, +and Edward would not desert his sister, though he could not repress a +few gloomy remarks on the homeward way. + +'To lose such a splendid dry day at this season! Once the weather +breaks and the floods are out, there will be no leaving the Manor +House again for weeks, save by the causeway over the fens!' + +Thus it was a rather melancholy trio that returned slowly by the same +road over which the ponies' feet had scampered gaily an hour or two +before. + +When the chimneys of Drayton were coming in sight, a loud 'Halloo' +made the riders look round. A second fox must have led the hunt back +in their direction after all. Sure enough, a speck of ruddy brown was +to be seen slinking along beneath a haystack in the distance. Already +the hounds were scrambling across the road after him, while, except +for the huntsman, not a solitary rider was as yet to be seen anywhere. + +The temptation was too strong for Edward. The brush might still be +his, if he were quick. + +'We are close at home. You will come to no harm now, sister,' he +called. Then, raising his whip, he was off at a gallop, beckoning +peremptorily to the groom to follow him. Not without a shade of +remorse for deserting his little mistress, the man-servant obediently +gave Snowball's bridle to Joyce, and set spurs to his horse. Then, as +he galloped away, he salved his conscience with the reflection that +'after all, young Master's neck is in more danger than young Missie's, +now home is in sight.' + +Joyce, left alone, dismounted, in order to lead Snowball herself on +the uneven road across the fens. It was difficult to do this +satisfactorily, owing to the pony's lameness, and her long, clinging +skirt, over which she was perpetually tripping. Therefore, looking +down over the hedgeless country for someone to help her, it was with +real relief that she caught sight of a tall youth close at hand, in a +pasture where sheep and cattle were grazing. All her life Joyce was +accustomed to treat the people she met with the airs of a queen. +Therefore, 'Hey! boy,' she called imperiously, 'come and help me! +quick!' + +She had to call more than once before the youth looked up, and when he +did, at first he made no motion in response. Then, seeing that the +pony really was limping badly, and that the little lady was obviously +in difficulty, and was, moreover, a very little lady still, in spite +of her peremptory tones, he changed his mind. Striding slowly towards +her, he rather reluctantly closed the book he had been reading, and +placed it in his pocket. Then, without saying a single word, he put +out his hand and taking Snowball's bridle from Joyce he proceeded to +lead the pony carefully and cleverly over the stones. + +The silence remained unbroken for a few minutes: the lad buried in his +own thoughts, grave, earnest and preoccupied; the dainty damsel, her +skirt held up now, satisfactorily, on both sides, skipping along, with +glancing footsteps, as she tried to keep up with her companion's +longer paces, and at the same time to remember why this tall, silent +boy seemed to her vaguely familiar. She could not see his face, for it +was turned towards Snowball, and Joyce herself scarcely came up to her +companion's elbow. + +They passed a cottage, set back at some distance from the road and +half hidden by a cherry-tree with a few late leaves upon it, crimsoned +by the first touch of November frost. A cherry-tree! The old memory +flashed back in a moment. + +'I know who you are,' exclaimed Joyce, 'even though you don't speak a +word. And I know your name. You are Righteous Christer the Weaver's +son, and you are called George, like my father. You have grown so big +and tall I did not know you at first, but now I do. Where do you +live?' + +The boy pointed in the direction of the cottage under the cherry-tree. +The gentle whirr of the loom stole through the window as they +approached. + +'And I have seen you before,' Joyce went on, 'a long time ago, the +last time we were here, on Sunday. It was in church,' she concluded +triumphantly. + +'Aye, in yon steeple-house,' answered her companion moodily, and with +no show of interest. 'Very like.' His eyes wandered from the thatched +roof of the cottage to where, high above the tall old yew-trees, a +slender spire pointed heavenward. + +Joyce laughed at the unfamiliar word. 'That is a church, not a +steeple-house,' she corrected. 'Of course it has a steeple, but +wherefore give it such a clumsy name?' + +Her companion made no reply. He seemed absorbed in a world of his own, +though still leading the pony carefully. + +Joyce, piqued at having her presence ignored even by a village lad, +determined to arouse him. 'Moreover, I have heard Priest Stephens +speak of you to my father,' she went on, with a little pin-prick of +emphasis on each word, though addressing her remarks apparently to no +one in particular, and with her dainty head tilted in the air. + +Her companion turned to her at once. 'What said the Priest?' he +enquired quickly. + +'The Priest said, "Never was such a plant bred in England before!" +What his words meant I know not--unless he was thinking of the proverb +of certain plants that grow apace,' she added maliciously, looking up +with a gleam of fun at the tall figure beside her. 'And my father +said....' + +Colonel Purefoy's remark was not destined to be revealed, for they had +reached the tall gateway by this time. Old Thomas, seeing his little +mistress approaching, accompanied only by the Weaver's son, and with +Snowball obviously damaged, had hobbled to meet them in spite of his +rheumatics. Close at hand was Cecily, brimful of excitement at the +sight of her fairy princess actually stopping at their own cottage +door. The tall youth handed the pony's bridle to the old man, and was +departing with evident relief, when a clear, imperious voice stopped +him-- + +'Good-bye and good-day to you, Weaver's son, and thanks for your aid,' +said Jocosa, like a queen dismissing a subject. + +The tall figure looked down upon the patronizing little lady, as if +from a remote height. 'Mayest thou verily fare well,' he said, almost +with solemnity, and then, without removing his hat or making any +gesture of respect, he turned abruptly and was gone. + +'A strange boy,' Joyce said to herself a few minutes later as she +stood on the stone bridge that crossed the moat in front of the Manor +House. 'I did not like him; in fact I rather disliked him--but I +should like to see him again and find out what he meant by his +"steeple-house" and "verily."' + +Cecily, left behind at the Lodge, very happy because her fairy +princess had actually thrown her a smile as she passed, was still +following the distant figure on the bridge with wistful eyes, as Joyce +busily searched her pockets for a few stray crumbs with which to feed +the swans in the moat. The scarlet riding-dress, glossy tippet, and +scarlet feather in the big brown hat were all faithfully reflected in +the clear water below, except where the swans interrupted the vivid +picture with dazzling snowy curves and orange webbed feet. + +More critical eyes than Cecily's were also watching Joyce. High up on +the terrace, where a few late roses and asters were still in bloom, +two figures were leaning over the stone parapet, looking down over the +moat. 'A fair maiden, indeed,' a voice was saying, in low, polished +tones. The next moment the sound of her own name made the girl look +up. There, coming towards her, at the very top of the flight of +shallow stone steps that led from the terrace to the low stone bridge, +she saw her father, and with him a stranger, dressed, not like Colonel +Purefoy, in a slightly archaic costume, but in the very latest fashion +of King Charles's Court at Whitehall. + +'My father come home already! and a stranger with him! What an unlucky +chance after the misadventure of the morning!' + +Throwing her remaining crumbs over the swans in a swift shower, Joyce +made haste up the stone steps, to greet the two gentlemen with the +reverence always paid by children to their elders in those days. + +Somewhat to her surprise, her father bent down and kissed her cheek. +Then, taking her hand, he led her towards the stranger, and presented +her very gravely. 'My daughter, Jocosa: my good friend, Sir Everard +Danvers.' 'Exactly as if I had been a grown-up lady at Court,' thought +Joyce, delighted, with the delight of thirteen, at her own unexpected +importance. Her father had never paid her so much attention before. +Well, at least he should see that she was worthy of it now. And Joyce +dropped her lowest, most formal, curtsey, as the stranger bowed low +over her hand. To curtsey at the edge of a flight of steps, and in a +clinging riding skirt, was an accomplishment of which anyone might be +proud. Was the stranger properly impressed? He appeared grave enough, +anyhow, and a very splendid figure in his suit of sky-blue satin, +short shoulder cape, and pointed lace collar. He was a strikingly +handsome man, of a dark-olive complexion, with good features, and +jet-black hair; but strangely enough, the sight of him made Joyce turn +back to her father, feeling as if she had never understood before the +comfort of his quiet, familiar face. Even the old-fashioned ruff gave +her a sense of home and security. She would tell him about the +morning's disasters now after all. But Colonel Purefoy's questions +came first. 'How now, Jocosa, and wherefore alone? My daughter rides +with her brother in my absence,' he added, turning to his companion. + +'Father,--Snowball,...' began Joyce bravely, her colour rising as she +spoke. + +'Talk not of snowballs,' interrupted Sir Everard gallantly, 'it may +be November by the calendar, but here it is high summer yet, with +roses all abloom.' He pointed to her crimsoning cheeks. + +They quickly flushed a deeper crimson, evidently to the stranger's +amusement. 'Why here comes Maiden's Blush, Queen of all the Roses' he +went on, in a teasing voice. Then, turning to Colonel Purefoy, 'By my +faith, Purefoy,' he said, 'my scamp of a nephew is a lucky dog.' + +Joyce's bewilderment increased. What did it all mean? Was he +play-acting? Why did they both treat her so? The stranger's +punctilious politeness had flattered her at first, but, since the +mocking tone stole into his voice she felt that she hated him, and +looked round hoping to escape. Sir Everard was too quick for her. In +that instant he had managed to possess himself of her hand, and now he +was kissing it with exaggerated homage and deference, yet still with +that mocking smile that seemed to say--'Like it, or like it not, +little I care.' + +Joyce had often seen people kiss her mother's hand, and had thought, +as she watched the delightful process, how much she should enjoy it, +when her own turn came. She knew better now: it was not a delightful +process at all, it was simply hateful. A new Joyce suddenly woke up +within her, a frightened, angry Joyce, who wanted to run away and +hide. All her new-born dignity vanished in a moment. Scarcely waiting +for her father's amused permission: 'There then, maiden, haste to thy +mother: she has news for thee'--she flew along the terrace and in at +the hall door. As she fled up the oak staircase that led to her +mother's withdrawing-room, she vainly tried to shut her ears to the +sounds of laughter that floated after her from the terrace below. + +Madam Purefoy was seated, half hidden behind her big, upright +embroidery frame, in one of the recesses formed by the high, deeply +mullioned windows. Thin rays of autumn sunshine filled the tapestried +room with pale, clear light. There was no possibility of mistaking the +colours of the silks that lay in their varied hues close under her +hand. Why, then, had this skilful embroideress deliberately threaded +her needle with a shade of brilliant blue silk? Why was she carefully +using it to fill in a lady's cheek without noticing, apparently, that +anything was wrong? Yet, at the first sound of Joyce's light footfall +on the stairs she laid down her needle and listened, and held out her +arms, directly her daughter appeared, flushed and agitated, in the +doorway, waiting for permission to enter. + +Mothers were mothers, it seems, even in the seventeenth century. In +another minute Joyce was in her arms, pouring out the whole history of +the morning. By this time Snowball's lameness had faded behind the +remembrance of the encounter on the terrace. + +'Who is that man, mother? A courtier, I know, since he wears such +beautiful clothes. But wherefore comes he here? I thought I liked him, +until he kissed my hand and laughed at me, and then I detested him. I +hope I shall never see him again.' And she hid her face. + +Before speaking, Mistress Purefoy left her seat and carefully closed +the casement, in order that their voices might not reach the ears of +anyone on the terrace below. Then, taking Joyce on her knee as if she +had been still a child, she explained to her that the stranger, Sir +Everard Danvers, was a well-known and favourite attendant of the +Queen's. 'And it is by her wish that he comes hither for thee, +Mignonne.' + +'For me?' Joyce grew rosier than ever; 'I am too young yet to be a +Maid of Honour as thou wert in thy girlhood. What does her Majesty +know about me?' she questioned. + +'Only that thou art my daughter, and that she is my very good friend. +Her Majesty knows also that, in time, thou wilt inherit some of my +Yorkshire estates; and therefore she hath sent Sir Everard to demand +thy hand in marriage for his nephew and ward, the young Viscount +Danvers, whose property marches with ours. Moreover, seeing that the +times are unsettled, her Majesty hath signified her pleasure that not +a mere betrothal, but the marriage ceremony itself, shall take place +as soon as possible in the Chapel Royal at St. James's, since the +young Viscount, thy husband to be, is attached to her suite as a +page.' + +'But I am not fourteen yet,' faltered Joyce, ''tis full soon to be +wed.' A vista of endless court curtseys and endless mocking strangers +swam before her eyes, and prevented her being elated with the prospect +that would otherwise have appeared so dazzling. + +Her mother stifled a sigh. 'Aye truly,' she replied, 'thy father and I +have both urged that. But her Majesty hath never forgotten the French +fashion of youthful marriages, and is bent on the scheme. She says, +with truth, that thou must needs have a year or two's education after +thy marriage for the position thou wilt have in future to fill at +Court, and 'tis better to have the contract settled first.' + +Education! To be married at thirteen might be a glorious thing, but to +be sent back, a bride, for a year or two of education thereafter was a +dismal prospect. + +That night there were tears of excitement and dismay on the pillow of +the Viscountess-to-be as she thought of the alarming future. Yet she +woke up, laughing, in the morning sunlight, for she had dreamt that +she was fastening a coronet over her brown hair. + + * * * * * + +The wedding festivities a few weeks later left nothing to be desired. +Day after day Joyce found herself the caressed centre of a brilliant +throng that held but one disappointing figure--her boy bridegroom. 'He +has eyes like a weasel, and a nose like a ferret,' was the bride's +secret criticism, when the introduction took place. But, after all, +the bridegroom was one of the least important parts of the wedding: +far less important than the Prince of Wales, who led her out to dance, +and whom she much preferred: far less important also than the +bridegroom's cousin, Abigail, a bold, black-eyed girl who took +country-bred Joyce under her protection at once, and saved her from +many a mistake. Abigail was already at the school to which Joyce was +to be sent. She herself was betrothed, though not as yet married, to +my Lord Darcy, and was therefore able to instruct Joyce herself in +many of the needful accomplishments of her new position. + +The school days that followed were not unhappy ones, since, far better +than their books, both girls loved their embroidery work and other +'curious and ingenious manufactures,' especially the new and +fashionable employment of making samplers, which had just been +introduced. But when, in a short time, the Civil Wars broke out, their +peaceful world collapsed like a house of cards. The 'position' of the +young Viscountess and her husband vanished into thin air. One winter +at Court the young couple spent together, it is true, when the King +and Queen were in Oxford, keeping state that was like a faint echo of +Whitehall. + +All too soon the fighting began again. In one of the earliest battles +young Lord Danvers was severely wounded and sent home maimed for life. +His days at Court and camp were over. Summoning his wife to nurse him, +he returned to his estate near Beverley in Yorkshire, where the next +few years of Joyce's life were spent, to her ill-concealed +displeasure. + +Her husband's days were evidently numbered, and as he grew weaker, he +grew more exacting. Patience had never been one of Joyce's strong +points, and, though she did her best, time often dragged, and she +mourned the cruel fate that had cast her lot in such an unquiet age. +Instead of wearing her coronet at Court, here she was moping and mewed +up in a stiff, puritanical countryside. + +After the triumph of the Parliamentarians, things grew worse. It would +have gone hard with the young couple had not a neighbour of theirs, of +much influence with the Protector, one Justice Hotham, made +representations as to the young lord's dying state and so ensured +their being left unmolested. + +Justice Hotham was a fatherly old man with a genius for understanding +his neighbours, especially young people. He was a good friend to +Joyce, and perpetually urged her to cherish her husband while he +remained with her. Judge then of the good Justice's distress, when, +one fine day, a note was brought to him from his wilful neighbour to +say that she could bear her lot no longer, that her dear friend +Abigail, Lady Darcy, was now on her way to join the Queen in France, +and had persuaded Joyce to leave her husband and accompany her +thither. + +The Justice looked up in dismay: a dismay reflected on the face of the +waiting-woman to whom Joyce had entrusted her confidential letter. +This was a certain blue-eyed Cecily, now a tall and comely maiden, who +had followed her mistress from her old home at Drayton-in-the-Clay. + +'She must be stopped,' said the good Judge. 'Spending the night with +Lady Darcy at the Inn at Beverley is she, sayest thou? And thou art to +join her there? Hie thee after her then, and delay her at all costs. +Plague on this gouty foot that ties me here! Maiden, I trust in thee +to bring her home.' + +Cecily needed no second bidding. 'She will not heed me. No mortal man +or woman can hinder my lady, once her mind is made up. Still I will do +my best,' was her only answer to the Judge; while 'It would take an +angel to stop her! May Heaven find one to do the work and send her +home, or ever my lord finds out that she has forsaken him,' she prayed +in the depths of her faithful heart. + +Was it in answer to her prayer that the rain came down in such +torrents that for two days the roads were impassable? Cecily was +inclined to think so. Anyhow, Joyce and Abigail, growing tired of the +stuffy inn parlour while the torrents descended, and having nothing to +do, seeing that the day was the Sabbath, and therefore scrupulously +observed without doors in Puritan Beverley, strolled through the +Minster, meaning to make sport of the congregation and its ways +thereafter. The sermon was long and tedious, but it was nearing its +end as they entered. At the close a stranger rose to speak in the body +of the Church, a tall stranger, who stood in the rays of the sun that +streamed through a lancet window behind him. His first words arrested +careless Joyce, though she paid small heed to preaching as a rule. + +More than the words, something vaguely familiar in the tones of the +voice and the piercing gaze that fell upon her out of the flood of +sunlight, awoke in her the memory of that long ago Sunday of her +childhood, of her theft of the cherries, of her 'disremembering,' and +then of her mother's words, 'You, a Purefoy, to forget to be worthy of +your name.' + +Alas! where was her Pure Faith now? The preacher seemed to be speaking +to her, to her alone: yet, strangely enough, to almost every heart in +that vast congregation the message went home. Did the building itself +rock and shake as if filled with power? The real Joyce was reached +again: the real Joyce, though hidden now under the weight of years of +self-pleasing, a heavier burden than any childish finery. Certainly +reached she was, though Lady Darcy preserved through it all her +cynical smile, and made sport of her friend's earnestness. +Nevertheless Lady Darcy went to France alone. Lady Danvers returned to +her husband--too much accustomed to be left alone, poor man, to have +been seriously disquieted by her absence. For the remainder of his +short life his wife did her best to tend him dutifully. But she did +leave him for an hour or two the day after her return, in order to go +and throw herself on her knees beside kind old Justice Hotham, and +confess to him how nearly she had deserted her post. + +'And then what saved you?' enquired the wise old man, smoothing back +the wavy hair from the wilful, lovely face that looked up to him, +pleading for forgiveness. + +'I think it was an angel,' said Joyce simply--'an angel or a spirit. +It rose up in Beverley Minster: it preached to us of the wonderful +things of God: words that burned. The whole building shook. Afterwards +it passed away.' + +Little she guessed that George Fox, the Weaver's son, the Judge's +guest, seated in a deep recess of the long, panelled library, was +obliged to listen to every word she spoke. Joyce never knew that the +angel who had again enabled her to keep her 'Faith pure' was no +stranger to her. Neither did it occur to him, whose thoughts were ever +full of weightier matters than wilful woman's ways, that he had met +this 'great woman of Beverley,' as he calls her, long before. + +Only waiting-maid Cecily, who had prayed for an angel; Cecily, who had +recognised the Weaver's son the first moment she saw him at the inn +door; Cecily who had found in him, also, the messenger sent by God in +answer to her prayer--wise Cecily kept silence until the day of her +death. + + * * * * * + +George Fox says in his Journal: + +'I was moved of the Lord to go to Beverley steeple-house, which was a +place of high profession. Being very wet with rain, I went first to an +inn. As soon as I came to the door, a young woman of the house said, +"What, is it you? Come in," as if she had known me before, for the +Lord's power bowed their hearts. So I refreshed myself and went to +bed. In the morning, my clothes being still wet, I got ready, and, +having paid for what I had, went up to the steeple-house where was a +man preaching. When he had done, I was moved to speak to him and to +the people in the mighty power of God, and turned them to their +teacher, Christ Jesus. The power of the Lord was so strong that it +struck a mighty dread among the people. The Mayor came and spoke a few +words to me, but none had power to meddle with me, so I passed out of +the town, and the next day went to Justice Hotham's. He was a pretty +tender man and had some experience of God's workings in his heart. +After some discourse with him of the things of God he took me into his +closet, where, sitting together, he told me he had known that +principle these ten years, and was glad that the Lord did now send his +servants to publish it abroad among the people. While I was there a +great woman of Beverley came to Justice Hotham about some business. In +discourse she told him that "The last Sabbath day," as she called it, +"an Angel or Spirit came into the church at Beverley and spoke the +wonderful things of God, to the astonishment of all that were there: +and when it had done, it passed away, and they did not know whence it +came or whither it went; but it astonished all, priests, professors +and magistrates." This relation Justice Hotham gave me afterwards, and +then I gave him an account that I had been that day at Beverley +steeple-house and had declared truth to the priest and people there.' + + + + +IV. TAMING THE TIGER + + + + + _'The state of the English law in + the 17th century with regard to + prisons was worthy of Looking + Glass Land. The magistrates' + responsibility was defined by ... + the justice. "They were to commit + them to prison but not to provide + prisons for them." This duty + devolved upon the gaoler, who was + an autocrat and responsible to no + authority. It frequently happened + that he was a convicted & branded + felon, chosen for the position by + reason of his strength & + brutality. Prisoners were ... + required to pay for this enforced + hospitality, & their first act + must be to make the most + favourable terms possible with + their gaoler landlord or his wife, + for food & lodging.'--M.R. + BRAILSFORD._ + + + _'You are bidden to fight with + your own selves, with your own + desires, with your own affections, + with your own reason, and with + your own will; and therefore if + you will find your enemies, never + look without.... You must expect + to fight a great battle.'--JOHN + EVERARD. 1650._ + + + _'The real essential battlefield + is always in the heart itself. It + is the victory over ourselves, + over the evil within, which alone + enables us to gain any real + victory over the evil + without.'--E.R. CHARLES._ + + + _'They who defend war, must defend + the dispositions that lead to war, + and these are clean against the + gospel.'--ERASMUS._ + + + + +IV. TAMING THE TIGER + + +Perhaps some boys and girls have said many times since the War began: +'I wish Friends did not think it wrong to fight for their King and +Country. Why did George Fox forbid Quakers to fight for the Right like +other brave men? Is it not right to fight for our own dear England?' + +But did George Fox ever forbid other people to fight? He was not in +the habit of laying down rules for other people, even his own +followers. Let us see what he himself did when, as a young man, he was +faced with this very same difficulty, or an even more perplexing one, +since it was our own dear England itself in those days that was tossed +and torn with Civil War. + +First of all, listen to the story of a man who tamed a Tiger:-- + +Far away in India, a savage, hungry Tiger, with stealthy steps and a +yellow, striped skin, came padding into a defenceless native village, +to seek for prey. In the early morning he had slunk out of the Jungle, +with soft, cushioned paws that showed no signs of the fierce nails +they concealed. All through the long, hot day he had lain hidden in +the thick reeds by the riverside; but at sunset he grew hungry, and +sprang, with a great bound, up from his hiding-place. Right into the +village itself he came, trampling down the patches of young, green +corn that the villagers had sown, and that were just beginning to +spring up, fresh and green, around the mud walls of their homes. All +the villagers fled away in terror at the first glimpse of the yellow, +striped skin. The fathers and mothers snatched up their brown babies, +the older children ran in front screaming, 'Tiger! Tiger!' Young and +old they all fled away, as fast as ever they could, into the safest +hiding-places near at hand. + +One man alone, a Stranger, did not fly. He remained standing right in +the middle of the Tiger's path, and fearlessly faced the savage beast. +With a howl of rage, the Tiger prepared for a spring. The man showed +no sign of fear. He never moved a muscle. Not an eyelash quivered. +Such unusual behaviour puzzled the Tiger. What could this strange +thing be, that stood quite still in the middle of the path? It could +hardly be a man. Men were always terrified of tigers, and fled +screaming when they approached. The Tiger actually stopped short in +its spring, to gaze upon this perplexing, motionless Being who knew no +fear. There he stood, perfectly silent, perfectly calm, gazing back at +the Tiger with the look of a conqueror. Several long, heavy minutes +passed. At length the villagers, peeping out from their hiding-places, +looking between the broad plantain leaves or through the chinks of +their wooden huts, beheld a miracle. They saw, to their amazement, the +Tiger slink off, sullen and baffled, to the jungle, while the Stranger +remained alone and unharmed in possession of the path. At first they +scarcely dared to believe their eyes. It was only gradually, as they +saw that the Tiger had really departed not to return, that they +ventured to creep back, by twos and threes first of all, and then in +little timid groups, to where the Stranger stood. Then they fell at +his feet and embraced his knees and worshipped him, almost as if he +had been a god. 'Tell us your Magic, Sahib,' they cried, 'this mighty +magic, whereby you have managed to overcome the Monarch of the Jungle +and tame him to your will.' + +'I know no magic,' answered the Stranger, 'I used no spells. I was +able to overcome this savage Tiger only because I have already learned +how to overcome and tame THE TIGER IN MY OWN HEART.' + +That was his secret. That is the story. And now let us return to +George Fox. + +Think of the England he lived in when he was a young man, the +distracted England of the Civil Wars. Think of all the tiger spirits +of hatred that had been unloosed and that were trampling the land. The +whole country lay torn and bleeding. Some bad men there were on both +sides certainly; but the real misery was that many good men on each +side were trying to kill and maim one another, in order that the cause +they believed to be 'the Right' might triumph. + +'Have at you for the King!' cried the Cavaliers, and rushed into the +fiercest battle with a smile. + +'God with us!' shouted back the deep-voiced Puritans. 'For God and the +Liberties of England!' and they too laid down their lives gladly. + +Far away from all the hurly-burly, though in the very middle of the +clash of arms, George Fox, the unknown Leicestershire shepherd lad, +went on his way, unheeded and unheeding. He, too, had to fight; but +his was a lonely battle, in the silence of his own heart. It was there +that he fought and conquered first of all, there that he tamed his own +Tiger at last--more than that, he learned to find God. + +'One day,' he says in his Journal, 'when I had been walking solitarily +abroad and was come home, I was taken up into the love of God, and it +was opened to me by the eternal light and power, and I therein clearly +saw that all was to be done in and by Christ, and how He conquers and +destroys the Devil and all his works and is atop of him.' He means +that he saw that all the outward fighting was really part of one great +battle, and that to be on the right side in that fight is the thing +that matters eternally to every man. + +Another time he writes: 'I saw into that which was without end, things +which cannot be uttered and of the greatness and infiniteness of the +love of God, which cannot be expressed by words, for I had been +brought through the very ocean of darkness and death, and through and +over the power of Satan by the eternal glorious power of Christ; even +through that darkness was I brought which covered over all the world +and shut up all in the death.... And I saw the harvest white and the +seed of God lying thick in the ground, as ever did wheat that was sown +outwardly, and I mourned that there was none to gather it.' + +When George Fox speaks of the 'seed,' he means the tender spot that +there must always be in the hearts of all men, however wicked, since +they are made in the likeness of God. A tiny, tiny something, the +first stirring of life, that God's Spirit can find and work on, +however deeply it may be buried (like a seed under heavy clods of +earth), if men will only yield to It. In another place he calls this +seed 'THAT OF GOD WITHIN YOU.' And it is this tender growing 'seed' +that gets trampled down when fierce angry passions are unloosed in +people's hearts, just as the tender springing corn in the Indian +village was trampled down by the hungry Tiger. George Fox believed +that that seed lay hidden in the hearts of all men, because he had +found it in his own. Everywhere he longed to set that seed free to +grow, and to tame the Tiger spirits that would trample it down and +destroy it. Let us watch and see how he did this. + +One day when he was about twenty-five years old, he heard that some +people had been put in prison at Coventry for the sake of their +religion. He thought that there must be a good crop of seed in the +hearts of those people, since they were willing to suffer for their +faith, so he determined to go and see them. As he was on his way to +the gaol a message came to him from God. He seemed to hear God's own +Voice saying to him, 'MY LOVE WAS ALWAYS TO THEE, AND THOU ART IN MY +LOVE.' 'Always to thee.' Then that love had always been round him, +even in his loneliest struggles, and now that he knew that he was in +it, nothing could really hurt him. No wonder that he walked on towards +the gaol with a feeling of new joy and strength. But when he came to +the dark, frowning prison where numbers of men and women were lying in +sin and misery, this joyfulness left him. He says, 'A great power of +darkness struck at me.' The prisoners were not the sort of people he +had hoped to find them. They were a set of what were then called +'Ranters.' They began to swear and to say wicked things against God. +George Fox sat silent among them, still fastening his mind on the +thought of God's conquering love; but as they went on to say yet +wilder and more wicked things, at last that very love forced him to +reprove them. They paid no attention, and at length Fox was obliged to +leave them. He says he was 'greatly grieved, yet I admired the +goodness of the Lord in appearing so to me, before I went among them.' + +For the time it did seem as if the Tiger spirits had won, and were +able to trample down the living seed. But wait! A little while after, +one of these same prisoners, named Joseph Salmon, wrote a paper +confessing that he was sorry for what he had said and done, whereupon +they were all set at liberty. + +Meanwhile, George Fox went on his way, and travelled through 'markets, +fairs, and divers places, and saw death and darkness everywhere, where +the Lord had not shaken them.' In one place he heard that a great man +lay dying and that his recovery was despaired of by all the doctors. +Some of his friends in the town desired George Fox to visit the +sufferer. 'I went up to him in his chamber,' says Fox in his Journal, +'and spake the word of life to him, and was moved to pray by him, and +the Lord was entreated and restored him to health. When I was come +down the stairs into a lower room and was speaking to the servants, a +serving-man of his came raving out of another room, with a naked +rapier in his hand, and set it just to my side. I looked steadfastly +on him and said "Alack for thee, poor creature! what wilt thou do with +thy carnal weapon, it is no more to me than a straw." The standers-by +were much troubled, and he went away in a rage; but when news came of +it to his master, he turned him out of his service.' + +Although that particular man's Tiger spirit had been foiled in its +spring, the man himself had not been really tamed. Perhaps George Fox +needed to learn more, and to suffer more himself, before he could +really change other men's hearts. If so, he had not long to wait. + +Shortly after this, it was his own turn to be imprisoned. He was shut +up in Derby Gaol, and given into the charge of a very cruel Gaoler. +This man was a strict Puritan, and he hated Fox, and spoke wickedly +against him. He even refused him permission to go and preach to the +people of the town, which, strangely enough, the prisoners in those +days were allowed to do. + +One morning, however, Fox was walking up and down in his cell, when he +heard a doleful noise. He stopped his walk to listen. Through the wall +he could hear the voice of the Gaoler speaking to his wife--'Wife,' he +said, 'I have had a dream. I saw the Day of Judgment, and I saw George +there!' How the listener must have wondered what was coming! 'I saw +George there,' the Gaoler continued, 'and I was afraid of him, because +I had done him so much wrong, and spoken so much against him to the +ministers and professors, and to the Justices and in taverns and +alehouses.' But there the voice stopped, and the prisoner heard no +more. When evening came, however, the Gaoler visited the cell, no +longer raging and storming at his prisoner, but humbled and still. 'I +have been as a lion against you,' he said to Fox, 'but now I come like +a lamb, or like the Gaoler that came to Paul and Silas, trembling.' +He came to ask as a favour that he might spend the night in the same +prison chamber where Fox lay. Fox answered that he was in the Gaoler's +power: the keeper of the prison of course could sleep in any place he +chose. 'No,' answered the Gaoler, 'I wish to have your permission. I +should like to have you always with me, but not as my prisoner.' So +the two strange companions spent that night together lying side by +side. In the quiet hours of darkness the Gaoler told Fox all that was +in his heart. 'I have found that what you said of the true faith and +hope is really true, and I want you to know that even before I had +that terrible vision, whenever I refused to let you go and preach, I +was sorry afterwards when I had treated you roughly, and I had great +trouble of mind.' + +There had been a little seed of kindness even in this rough Gaoler's +heart. Deeply buried though it was, it had been growing in the +darkness all the time, though no one guessed it--the Gaoler himself +perhaps least of all until his dream showed him the truth about +himself. When the night was over and morning light had come, the +Gaoler was determined to do all he could to help his new friend. He +went straight to the Justices and told them that he and all his +household had been plagued because of what they had done to George Fox +the prisoner. + +'Well, we have been plagued too for having him put in prison,' +answered one of the Justices, whose name was Justice Bennett. And here +we must wait a minute, for it is interesting to know that it was this +same Justice Bennett who first gave the name of Quakers to George Fox +and his followers as a nickname, to make fun of them. Fox declared in +his preaching that 'all men should tremble at the word of the Lord,' +whereupon the Justice laughingly said that 'Quakers and Tremblers was +the name for such people.' The Justice might have been much surprised +if he could have known that centuries after, thousands of people all +over the world would still be proud to call themselves by the name he +had given in a moment of mockery. + +Neither Justice Bennett nor his prisoner could guess this, however; +and therefore, although his Gaoler's heart had been changed, George +Fox still lay in Derby Prison. There was more work waiting for him to +do there. + +One day he heard that a soldier wanted to see him, and in there came a +rough trooper, with a story that he was very anxious to tell. 'I was +sitting in Church,' he began. 'Thou meanest in the steeple-house,' +corrected Fox, who was always very sure that a 'Church' meant a +'Company of Christ's faithful people,' and that the mere outward +building where they were gathered should only be called a +steeple-house if it had a steeple, or a meeting-house if it had none. +'Sitting in Church, listening to the Priest,' continued the trooper, +paying no attention to the interruption, 'I was in an exceeding great +trouble, thinking over my sins and wondering what I should do, when a +Voice came to me--I believe it was God's own Voice and it said--"Dost +thou not know that my servant is in prison? Go thou to him for +direction." So I obeyed the Voice,' the man continued, 'and here I +have come to you, and now I want you to tell me what I must do to get +rid of the burden of these sins of mine.' He was like Christian in +_Pilgrim's Progress_, with a load of sins on his back, was he not? And +just as Christian's burden rolled away when he came to the Cross, so +the trooper's distress vanished when Fox spoke to him, and told him +that the same power that had shown him his sins and troubled him for +them, would also show him his salvation, for 'That which shows a man +his sin is the Same that takes it away!' + +Fox did not speak in vain. The trooper 'began to have great +understanding of the Lord's truth and mercyes.' He became a bold man +too, and took his new-found happiness straight back to the other +soldiers in his quarters, and told them of the truths he had learnt in +the prison. He even said that their Colonel--Colonel Barton--was 'as +blind as Nebuchadnezzar, to cast such a true servant of God as Fox +was, into Gaol.' + +Before long this saying came to Colonel Barton's ears, and then there +was a fine to do. Naturally he did not like being compared with +Nebuchadnezzar. Who would? But it would have been undignified for a +Colonel to take any notice then of the soldiers' tittle-tattle; so he +said nothing, only bided his time and waited until he could pay back +his grudge against the sergeant. A whole year he waited--then his +chance came. It was at the Battle of Worcester, when the two armies +were lying close together, but before the actual fighting had begun, +that two soldiers of the King's Army came out and challenged any two +soldiers of the Parliamentary Army to single combat, whereupon Colonel +Barton ordered the soldier who had likened him to Nebuchadnezzar to +go with one other companion on this dangerous errand. They went; they +fought with the two Royalists, and one of the two Parliamentarians was +killed; but it was the other one, not Fox's friend. He, left alone, +with his comrade lying dead by his side, suddenly found that not even +to save his own life could he kill his enemies. So he drove them both +before him back to the town, but he did not fire off his pistol at +them. Then, as soon as Worcester fight was over, he himself returned +and told the whole tale to Fox. He told him 'how the Lord had +miraculously preserved him,' and said also that now he had 'seen the +deceit and hypocrisy of the officers he had seen also to the end of +Fighting.' Whereupon he straightway laid down his arms. + +The trooper left the army. Meanwhile his friend and teacher had +suffered for refusing to join it. We must go back a little to the +time, some months before the Battle of Worcester, when the original +term of Fox's imprisonment in the House of Correction in Derby was +drawing to a close. + +At this time many new soldiers were being raised for the Parliamentary +Army, and among them the authorities were anxious to include their +stalwart prisoner, George Fox. Accordingly the Gaoler was asked to +bring his charge out to the market-place, and there, before the +assembled Commissioners and soldiers, Fox was offered a good position +in the army if he would take up arms for the Commonwealth against +Charles Stuart. The officers could not understand why George Fox +should refuse to regain his liberty on what seemed to them to be such +easy terms. 'Surely,' they said, 'a strong, big-boned man like you +will be not only willing but eager to take up arms against the +oppressor and abuser of the liberties of the people of England!' + +Fox persisted in his refusal. 'I told them,' he writes in his Journal, +'that I knew whence all wars arose, even from men's lusts ... and that +I lived in the virtue of that life and power that took away the +occasion of all wars. Yet they courted me to accept their offer, and +thought I did but compliment them. But I told them I was come into +that covenant of peace which was before wars and strifes were. They +said they offered it in love and kindness to me, because for my +virtue, and such like flattering words they used. But I told them if +that was their love and kindness, I trampled it under my feet. Then +their rage got up, and they said, "Take him away, Gaoler, and put him +into the prison among the rogues and thieves."' + +This prison was a much worse place than the House of Correction where +Fox had been confined hitherto. In it he was obliged to remain for a +weary half-year longer, knowing all the time that he might have been +at liberty, could he have consented to become an officer in the army. +His relations, distressed at his imprisonment, had already offered +£100 for his release, but Fox would not accept the pardon this sum +might have obtained for him as he said he had done nothing wrong. He +was occasionally allowed to leave the horrible, dirty gaol, with its +loathsome insects and wicked companions, and walk for a short time in +the garden by himself, because his keepers knew that when he had given +his word he would not try to escape from their custody. + +As time went on, many dismal people (looking on the gloomy side of +things, as dismal people always do) began to shake their heads and +say, 'Poor young man, he will spend all his life in gaol. You will see +he will never be set free or get his liberty again.' But Fox refused +to be cast down. Narrow though his prison was, Hope shared it with +him. 'I had faith in God,' his Journal says, 'that I should be +delivered from that place in the Lord's time, but not yet, being set +there for a work He had for me to do!' Work there was for him in +prison truly. A young woman prisoner who had robbed her master was +sentenced to be hanged, according to the barbarous law then in force. +This shocked Fox so much that he wrote letters to her judges and to +the men who were to have been her executioners, expressing his horror +at what was going to happen in such strong language that he actually +softened their hearts. Although the girl had actually reached the foot +of the gallows, and her grave had already been dug, she was reprieved. +Then, when she was brought back into prison again after this wonderful +escape Fox was able to pour light and life into her soul, which was an +even greater thing than saving her body from death. Many other +prisoners did Fox help and comfort in Derby Gaol;[2] but though he +could soften the sufferings of others he could not shorten his own. +Once again Justice Bennett sent his men to the prison, this time with +orders to take the Quaker by force and compel him to join the army, +since he would not fight of his own free will. + +'But I told him,' said Fox, '"that I was brought off from outward +wars." They came again to give me press money, but I would take none. +Afterwards the Constables brought me a second time before the +Commissioners, who said I should go for a soldier, but I said I was +dead to it. They said I was alive. I told them where envy and hatred +is, there is confusion. They offered me money twice, but I refused it. +Being disappointed, they were angry, and committed me a close +prisoner, till at length they were made to turn me out of Gaol about +the beginning of winter 1651, after I had been a prisoner in Derby +almost a year; six months in the House of Correction, and six months +in the common gaol.' + +Thus at length Derby prison was left behind; but the seeds that the +prisoner had planted in that dark place sprang up and flourished and +bore fruit long after he had left. + +Eleven years later, the very same Gaoler, who had been cruel to Fox at +the first, and had then had the vision and repented, wrote this letter +to his former prisoner. It is a real Gaoler's love-letter, and quite +fresh to-day, though it was written nearly 300 years ago. + + 'DEAR FRIEND,' the letter begins, + + 'Having such a convenient messenger I could do no less than give + thee an account of my present condition; remembering that to the + first awakening of me to a sense of life, God was pleased to + make use of thee as an instrument. So that sometimes I am taken + with admiration that it should come by such means as it did; + that is to say that Providence should order thee to be my + prisoner to give me my first sight of the truth. It makes me + think of the gaoler's conversion by the apostles. Oh! happy + George Fox! that first breathed the breath of life within the + walls of my habitation! Notwithstanding that my outward losses + are since that time such that I am become nothing in the world, + yet I hope I shall find that these light afflictions, which are + but for a moment, will work for me a far more exceeding and + eternal weight of glory. They have taken all from me; and now + instead of keeping a prison, I am waiting rather when I shall + become a prisoner myself. Pray for me that my faith fail not, + and that I may hold out to the death, that I may receive a crown + of life. I earnestly desire to hear from thee and of thy + condition, which would very much rejoice me. Not having else at + present, but my kind love to thee and all friends, in haste, I + rest thine in Christ Jesus. + + 'THOMAS SHARMAN. + +'Derby, the 22nd of the fourth month, 1662.' + + +This Gaoler was one of the first people whose Tiger spirits were tamed +by George Fox. But he certainly was not the last. Fox himself had told +the soldiers in Derby market-place that he could not fight, because he +'lived in the virtue of that life and power that took away the +occasion of all wars.' As a friend of his wrote, after his death many +years later: 'George Fox was a discerner of other men's spirits, AND +VERY MUCH A MASTER OF HIS OWN.' + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[2] Two men who were executed for small offences he could not save, +but 'a little time after they had suffered their spirits appeared to +me as I was walking, and I saw the men was well.' + + + + +V. 'THE MAN IN LEATHER BREECHES' + + + + + _'As I was walking I heard old + people and work people to say: "he + is such a man as never was, he + knows people's thoughts" for I + turned them to the divine light of + Christ and His spirit let them see + ... that there was the first step + to peace to stand still in the + light that showed them their sin + and transgression.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'Do not look at but keep over all + unnaturalness, if any such thing + should appear, but keep in that + which was and is and will be.'--G. + FOX._ + + + _'Wait patiently upon the Lord; + let every man that loves God, + endeavour by the spirit of wisdom, + meekness, and love to dry up + Euphrates, even this spirit of + bitterness that like a great river + hath overflowed the earth of + mankind.'--GERRARD WINSTANLEY. + 1648._ + + + _'Blessed is he who loves Thee, + and his friend in Thee, and his + enemy for Thy sake.'--AUGUSTINE._ + + + _'Eternity is just the real world + for which we were made, and which + we enter through the door of + love.'--RUFUS M. JONES._ + + + + +V. 'THE MAN IN LEATHER BREECHES' + + +22nd Dec. 1651. + +'Rough Moll, the worst-tempered woman in all Yorkshire.' It was thus +her neighbours were wont to speak behind her back of Mistress Moll, +the keeper of the 'George and Dragon' Inn at Hutton Cranswick near +Driffield in the East Riding. Never a good word or a kind deed had she +for anyone, since her husband had been called away to serve in King +Charles's army. In former days, when mine host was at home, the +neighbours had been encouraged to come early and stay late at night +gossipping over the home-brewed ale he fetched for them so cheerily; +for Moll's husband was an open-hearted, pleasant-mannered man, the +very opposite of his shrewish wife. But now, since his departure for +the wars, the neighbours got to the bottom of their mugs with as +little delay as possible, vowing to themselves in whispers that they +would seek refuge elsewhere another night, since Moll's sour looks +went near to give a flavour of vinegar even to the ale she brewed. +Thus, as speedily as might be, they escaped from the reach of their +hostess's sharp tongue. + +But the lasses of the inn, who were kept to do the rough work of the +house, found it harder to escape from the harsh rule of their +mistress. And for little Jan, Moll's four-year-old son, there was +still less possibility of escape from the tyrant whom he called by the +name of Mother. + +Nothing of true mother-love had ever yet been kindled in Rough Moll's +heart. From the very beginning she had fiercely resented being +burdened with what she called 'the plague of a brat.' Still, so long +as his father remained at home, the child's life had not been an +unhappy one. As soon as ever he could stand alone he drew himself up +by his father's trousers, with an outstretched hand to be grasped in +the big fist. As soon as he could toddle, he spent his days wandering +round the Inn after his daddy, knowing that directly he grew tired +daddy would be ready to stop whatever he might be doing, in order to +lift the small boy up in his arms or to give him a ride on his knee. + +'Wasting your time over the brat and leaving the Tavern to go to rack +and ruin'--Moll would say, with a sneer, as she passed them. But she +never interfered; for the husband who had courted her when she was a +young girl was the only person for whom she still kept a soft spot in +the heart that of late years seemed to have grown so hard. + +Truth to tell, tavern-keeping was no easy business in those unsettled +times, and Moll had ever been a famous body for worrying over trifles. + + '"The worry cow + Would have lived till now, + If she had not lost her breath, + But she thought her hay + Would not last the day, + So she mooed herself to death." + +'And all the time she had three sacks full! Remember that, Moll, my +lass!' Jan's father would say to his wife, when she began to pour out +to him her dismal forebodings about the future. + +But since this easy-going, jolly daddy had left the Inn and had gone +away with the other men and lads of the village to fight with My Lord +for the King, little Jan's lot was a hard one, and seemed likely to +grow harder day by day. + +Rough Moll's own life was not too easy either, at this time, though +few folks troubled themselves to speculate upon the reason for her +added gruffness. So she concealed her anxieties under an extra +harshness of tongue and did her best to make life a burden to everyone +she came across. For, naturally, now that the Inn was no longer a +pleasant place in mine host's absence, it was no longer a profitable +place either. Custom was falling off and quarter day was fast +approaching. Moll was at her wits' end to know where she should find +money to pay her rent, when, one day, to her unspeakable relief, My +Lady in her coach stopped at the door of the Inn. Now Moll had been +dairymaid up at the Hall years ago, before her marriage, and My Lady +knew of old that Moll's butter was as sweet as her looks were sour. +Perhaps she guessed, also, at some of the other woman's anxieties; for +was not her own husband, My Lord, away at the wars too? Anyway, when +the fine yellow coach stopped at the door of the Inn, it was My Lady's +own head with the golden ringlets that leaned out of the window, and +My Lady's own soft voice that asked if her old dairymaid could +possibly oblige her with no less than thirty pounds of butter for her +Yuletide feast to the villagers the following week. + +The Moll who came out, smiling and flattered, to the Inn door and +stood there curtseying very low to her Ladyship, was a different being +from the Rough Moll of every day. She promised, with her very +smoothest tongue, she would not fail. She knew where to get the milk, +and her Ladyship should have the butter, full weight and the very +best, by the following evening, which would leave two full days before +Christmas. + +'That is settled then, for I have never known you to fail me,' said My +Lady, as the coach drove away, leaving Moll curtseying behind her, and +vowing again that 'let come what would come,' she would not fail. + +It was small wonder, therefore, after this unaccustomed graciousness, +that she was shorter-tempered than ever with her unfortunate guests +that evening. Was not their presence hindering her from getting on +with her task? At length she left the lasses to serve the ale, which, +truth to tell, they were nothing loath to do, while Moll herself, in +her wooden shoes and with her skirts tucked up all round her, +clattered in and out of the dairy where already a goodly row of large +basins stood full to the brim with rich yellow milk on which, even +now, the cream was fast rising. + +Thirty pounds of butter could never all be made in one day; she must +begin her task overnight. True, little Jan was whining to go to bed as +he tried vainly to keep awake on his small hard stool by the fire. The +brat must wait; she could not attend to him now. He could sleep well +enough leaning against the bricks of the chimney-corner. Or, no! the +butter-making would take a long time, and Moll was never a methodical +woman. Jan should lie down, just as he was, and have a nap in the +kitchen until she was ready to attend to him. Roughly, but not +unkindly, she pulled him off the stool and laid him down on a rug in a +dark corner of the kitchen and told him to be off to sleep as fast as +he could, stooping to cover him with an old coat of her husband's +that was hanging on the door, as she spoke. Nothing loath, Jan shut +his sleepy eyes, and, burying his little nose in the folds of the old +coat, he went happily off into dreamland, soothed by the +well-remembered out-door smell that always clung around his father's +belongings. + +It did not take Moll long to fill the churn and to set it in its +place. Just as she was busy shutting down the lid, there came a knock +at the door. 'Plague take you, Stranger,' she grumbled, as she opened +it, and a gust of snow and wind blew in upon her and the assembled +guests in the tavern kitchen. 'You bring in more of the storm than you +are likely to pay for your ale.' + +'My desire is not for ale,' said the Stranger, speaking slowly, and +looking at the woman keenly from underneath his shaggy eyebrows. 'I +came but to ask thee for shelter from the storm; and for a little +meat, if thou hast any to set before me.' + +'To ask _thee_ for shelter.' 'If _thou_ hast any meat.' The unusual +form of address caught Moll's ear. She looked more closely at her +visitor. Yes, his lower limbs were not covered with homely Yorkshire +frieze; they were encased in odd garments that must surely be made of +leather, since the snowflakes lay upon them in crisp wreaths and +wrinkles before they melted. She had heard of the strange being who +was visiting those parts and she had no desire to make his +acquaintance. 'Hey, lasses!' she called to her maids at the far end of +the tavern parlour, 'here is the man in leather breeches himself, come +to pay us a visit this wild night!' + +A shout of laughter went up from the men at their tankards. 'The man +in leather breeches!' 'Send him out again into the storm! We'll have +none of his company here, the spoil sport!' + +Moll nodded assent, and returning to her unwelcome guest, said +shortly, 'Meat there is none for you here,' and moved towards the +door, where the Stranger still stood, as if to close it upon him. + +But the man was not to be so easily dismissed. + +'Hast thou then milk?' he asked. + +Moll laughed aloud. A man who did not want ale should not have milk; +no money to be made out of that; especially this night of all nights, +when every drop would be wanted for her Ladyship's butter. + +Lies were part of Moll's regular stock-in-trade. She lied now, with +the ease of long habit. + +'You will get no shelter here,' she said roughly, 'and as for milk, +there is not a drop in the house.' + +The Stranger looked at her. He spoke no words for a full minute, but +as his eyes pierced her through and through, she knew that he knew +that she had lied. The knowledge made her angry. She repeated her +words with an oath. The Stranger made as if to turn away; then, almost +reluctantly but very tenderly, as if he were being drawn back in spite +of himself: 'Hast thou then cream?' he asked. Yet, though his tone was +persuasive, his brows were knitted as he stood looking down upon the +angry woman. + +'Not as if he cared about the cream, but as if he cared about me,' +Moll said herself, long after. But at the time: 'No, nor cream either. +On my soul, there is not a drop in the house,' she repeated, more +fiercely than before. + +But, even as she spoke, she saw that the Stranger's eyes were +fastened on the churn that stood behind her, the churn evidently full +and drawn out for use, with drops of rich yellow cream still standing +upon the lid and trickling down the sides. + +Moll turned her square shoulders upon the churn as if to shut out its +witness to her falsehood. Her lies came thick and fast; 'I tell you +there is not a single drop of cream in the house.' + +The next moment, a loud crash made her look round. She had forgotten +Jan! The loud angry voice and the cold blast from the open door had +awakened him before he had had time to get sound asleep. Hearing his +mother vow that she had not a drop of cream in the house, he left his +rug and began playing about again. Then, being ever a restless little +mortal, he had crept round to the churn to see if it had really become +empty in such a short time. He had tried to pull himself up by one of +the legs in order to stand on the rim and see if there was really no +cream inside; and in attempting this feat, naturally, he had pulled +the whole churn over upon him. And not only the churn,--its contents +too! Eighteen quarts of Moll's richest yellow cream were streaming all +over the kitchen floor. Pools, lakes, rivers, seas of cream were +running over the flagstones and dripping through the crevices into the +ground. + +With a cry of rage Moll turned, and, seeing the damage, she sprang +upon little Jan and beat him soundly; and a beating from Moll's heavy +hand was no small matter: then with a curse she flung the child away +from her towards the hearth. + +'Woman!' The Stranger's voice recalled her. 'Woman! Beware! Thou art +full of lies and fury and deceit, yet in the name of the Lord I warn +thee. Ere three days have gone by, thou shalt know what is in thine +heart; and thou shalt learn the power of that which was, and is, and +will be!' + +So saying, the unwelcome guest opened the outer door and walked away +into the raging storm and darkness,--a less bitter storm it seemed to +him now than that created by the violent woman within doors. Some way +further on he espied a haystack, under which he lay down, as he had +done on many another night before this, and there he slept in the wind +and the snow until morning. + +Moll, meanwhile, enraged beyond words at the loss of her cream, +stalked off for a pail and cloth, and set herself to wash the floor, +muttering curses as she did so. Never a glance did she cast at the +corner by the fire where little Jan still lay by the hearth-stone, +motionless and strangely quiet; he, the restless imp, who was usually +so full of life. Never a glance, until, the centre of the floor being +at last clean again, Moll, on her knees, came with her pail of +soap-suds to the white river that surrounded the corner of the kitchen +where Jan lay. A white river? Nay, there was a crimson river that +mingled with it; a stream of crimson drops that flowed from the stone +under the child's head. + +Moll leapt to her feet on the instant. What ailed the boy? She had +beaten him, it is true, but then she had beaten him often before this +in his father's absence. A beating was nothing new to little Jan. Why +had he fallen? What made him lie so still? She turned him over. Ah! it +was easy to see the reason. As she flung him from her in her rage, +the child in his fall had struck his head against the sharp edge of +the hearth-stone, and there he lay now, with the life-blood steadily +flowing from his temple. + +A feeling that Rough Moll had never been conscious of before gripped +her heart at the sight. Was her boy dead? Had she killed him? What +would his father say? What would her husband call her? A murderer? Was +she that? Was that what the Stranger had meant when he had looked at +her with those piercing eyes? He might have called her a liar, at the +sight of the churn full of cream, but he had not done so; and little +she would have cared if he had. But a murderer! Was murder in her +heart? + +Lifting Jan as carefully as she could, she carried him upstairs to the +small bedroom under the roof, where he usually lay on a tiny pallet by +her side. But this night the child's small figure lay in the wide bed, +and big Moll, with all her clothes on, hung over him; or if she lay +down for a moment or two, it was only on the hard little pallet by his +side. + +All that night Moll watched. But all that night Jan never moved. All +the next day he lay unconscious, while Moll did her clumsy utmost to +staunch the wound in his forehead. Long before it was light, she tried +to send one of her maids for the doctor; but the storm was now so +violent that none could leave or enter the house. + +Her Ladyship's order went unheeded. The thirty pounds of butter were +never made. But My Lady, who was a mother herself, not only forgave +Moll for spoiling her Yuletide festivities, but even told her, when +she heard of the disaster, that she need not trouble about the rent +until her boy was better. + +Until he was better! But would Jan ever be better? Moll had no thought +now for either the butter or the rent. The yellow cream might turn +sour in every single one of her pans for all she cared, if only she +could get rid of this new unbearable pain. + +At length, on the evening of the second day, faint with the want of +sleep, she fell into an uneasy doze: and still Jan had neither moved +nor stirred. Presently a faint sound woke her. Was he calling? No; it +was but the Christmas bells ringing across the snow. What were those +bells saying? 'MUR-DER-ER' 'MUR-DERER'--was that it? Over and over +again. Did even the bells know what she had done and what she had in +her heart? For a moment black despair seized her. + +The next moment there followed the shuffling sound of many feet +padding through the snow. The storm had ceased by this time, and all +the world was wrapped in a white silence, broken only by the sound of +the distant bells. And now the Christmas waits had followed the bells' +music, and were singing carols outside the ale-house door. Fiercely, +Moll stuck her fingers in her ears. She would not listen, lest even +the waits should sing of her sin, and shew her the blackness of her +heart. But the song stole up into the room, and, in spite of herself, +something forced Moll to attend to the words: + + 'Babe Jesus lay in Mary's lap, + The sun shone on his hair-- + And that was how she saw, mayhap, + The crown already there.' + +That was how good mothers sang to their children. They saw crowns +upon their hair. What sort of a crown had Moll given to her child? She +looked across and saw the chaplet of white bandages lying on the white +pillow. No; she, Moll, had never been a good mother, would never be +one now, unless her boy came back to life again. She was a murderer, +and her husband when he returned from the wars would tell her so, and +little Jan would never know that his mother had a heart after all. + +At that moment the carol died away, and the waits' feet, heavy with +clinging snow, shuffled off into the darkness; but looking down again +at the head with its crown of white bandages upon the white pillow, +Moll saw that this time Jan's eyes were open and shining up at her. + +'Mother,' he said, in his little weak voice, as he opened his arms and +smiled. Moll had seen him smile like that at his father; she had never +known before that she wanted to share that smile. She knew it now. + +Only three short days had passed since she turned the Stranger from +her doors, but little Jan and his mother entered a new world of love +and tenderness together that Christmas morning. As Rough Moll gathered +her little son up into her arms and held him closely to her breast, +she knew for the first time the power of 'that which was, and is, and +will be.' + + + + +VI. THE SHEPHERD OF PENDLE HILL + + + + + _'On Pendle G.F. saw people as + thick as motes in the sun, that + should in time be brought home to + the Lord, that there might be but + one Shepherd and one Sheepfold in + all the earth. There his eye was + directed Northward beholding a + great people that should receive + him and his message in those + parts.'--W. PENN'S Testimony to + George Fox._ + + + _'In Adam, in the fall are all the + inward foul weather, storms, + tempests, winds, strifes, the + whole family of it is in + confusion, being all gone from the + spirit and witness of God in + themselves, and the power and the + light, in which power and light + and spirit, is the fellowship with + God and with one another, through + which they come ... into the + quickener, who awakens (them) and + brings (them) up unto Himself, the + way, Christ; and out of and off + from the teachers and priests, and + shepherds that change and fall, to + the PRIEST, SHEPHERD and PROPHET, + that never fell or changed, nor + ever will fail or change, nor + leave the flock in the cold + weather nor in the winter, nor in + storms or tempests; nor doth the + voice of the wolf frighten him + from his flock. For the Light, the + Power, the Truth, the + Righteousness, did it ever leave + you in any weather, or in any + storms or tempests? And so his + sheep know his voice and follow + Him, who gives them life eternal + abundantly.'--GEORGE FOX._ + + + + +VI. THE SHEPHERD OF PENDLE HILL + + +'Ingleborough, Pendle and Pen-y-Ghent Are the highest hills 'twixt +Scotland and Trent.' So sing I, the Shepherd of Pendle, to myself, and +so have I sung, on summer days, these many years, lying out atop of +old Pendle Hill, keeping watch over my flock. + +In good sooth, a shepherd's life is a hard one, on our Lancashire +fells, for nine months out of the twelve. The nights begin to be sharp +with frost towards the back-end of the year, for all the days are +sunny and warm at times. Bitter cold it is in winter and worse in +spring, albeit the daylight is longer. + +'As the day lengthens, so the cold strengthens,' runs the rhyme, and +well do men know the truth of it in these parts. Many a time a man +must be ready to give his own life for his sheep, aye and do it too, +to save them in a snow-drift or from the biting frost. It is an +anxious season for the shepherd, until he sees the lambs safely at +play and able to stand upon their weak legs and run after their +mothers. But it is not until the dams are clipped that a shepherd has +an easy mind and can let his thoughts dwell on other things. Then, at +last, in the summer, his time runs gently for a while; and I, for one, +was always ready to enjoy myself, when once the bitter weather was +over. + +So there I was, one day many years ago, nigh upon Midsummer, lying out +on the grassy slopes atop of old Pendle Hill, and singing to myself-- + + 'Ingleborough, Pendle and Pen-y-Ghent + Are the highest hills 'twixt Scotland and Trent.' + +But for all I sang of the hills, my thoughts were in the valleys. I +lay there, watching till the sun should catch the steep roof of a +certain cot I know. It stands by the side of a stream, so hidden among +the bushes that even my eye cannot find it, unless the sunlight finds +it first, and flashes back at me from roof and window-pane. That was +the cot I had never lived in then, but I hoped to live in it before +the summer was over, and to bring the bonniest lass in all yon broad +Yorkshire there with me as my bride. That was to be if things went +well with me and with the sheep; for my master had promised to give me +a full wage (seeing I had now reached man's estate), if so be I came +through the spring and early summer without losing a single lamb. +Thinking of these things, and dreaming dreams as a lad will, the hours +trod swiftly over Pendle Hill that day; for all the sun was going down +the sky but slowly, seeing it was Midsummer-tide. + +Suddenly, as I lay there looking down over the slope, I saw a strange +sight, for travellers are scarce on Pendle Hill even at Midsummer. But +it was a traveller surely, or was it a shepherd? At first I could not +be sure; for he carried a lamb in his arms and trod warily with it, in +the way that shepherds do. Yet I never met a shepherd clad in clothes +like his; nor with a face like his either, as I saw it, when he came +nearer. Weary he looked, and with a pale countenance, as if he had +much ado to come up the hill, and in good sooth 'tis full steep just +there; or else, may be, he was fasting and faint for lack of food. But +all this I only thought of later. At the time, I looked not much at +him, but only at the lamb he carried in his arms. How came such a +man to be carrying a lamb, and carrying it full gently and carefully +too, supporting one leg with both hands, although he was encumbered +with a staff? Then, when he had come yet nearer, I saw that it was not +only a lamb--it was one of my master's lambs, my own lambs that I was +set to watch; for there on its wool was the brand carried by our +flocks and by none others on all those fells. One of my lambs, lying +in a stranger's arms! A careless shepherd I! I must have been asleep +or dreaming ... dreaming foolish dreams about that cottage, on which +the sun might shine unheeded now, I cared not for it, being full of +other thoughts. No sooner did I espy the brand on the lamb than I rose +to my feet, and, even as I ran nimbly down the slope towards the +stranger, my eyes roamed over the hillside to discover which of my +lambs had strayed:--Rosamond, Cowslip, Eglantine and Gillyflower--I +could see them all safe with their dams, and many more besides. All +the lambs that springtime I had named after the flowers that I hoped +to plant another year in the garden of that cot beside the stream. And +all the flowers I could see and name were safe beside their dams, as I +leapt down the hillside. Nay, Periwinkle was missing! Periwinkle was +ever a strayer, and Periwinkle's dam was bleating at the edge of the +steep cliff up which the stranger toiled. It was Periwinkle and none +other that he was carrying in his arms! Seeing it was Periwinkle, I +halloed to him to halt. Hearing my cry, he stopped, and waited till I +reached him, all the time holding the lamb carefully, tending it and +speaking to it in the tone a shepherd is wont to use. + +[Illustration: 'DREAMING OF THE COT IN THE VALE'] + +'Thanks to you, Good Stranger,' I said, as I came nearer, 'Periwinkle +is ever a strayer. Did you see her fall?' + +'Nay,' said the Stranger, giving the lamb tenderly into my arms, and +halting upon his staff; speaking warily and weightily as I never heard +a man speak before or since. 'Nay; the lambkin must have fallen before +I came by. But I heard the mother bleat, and I knew, by the sound, +that she was in distress. Therefore I turned towards the crag upon +which she stood, and, looking down, I perceived the lamb fallen among +the brambles beneath a high ledge.' + +'And went down over for her yourself and brought her up again! 'Twas +bravely done, Good Stranger,' I answered, and then, thinking to +encourage him, I said, 'Better you could not have done it, had you +been a shepherd yourself, for I see your hands are torn.' + +'It is nothing,' he answered. 'A shepherd expects that.' + +'Then are you a shepherd too, Master Stranger?' I asked, but he gave +no answer; only fastened his eyes upon me as we climbed together up +the hill. Wonderful eyes he had, not like to other men's; with a depth +and yet a light in them, as when the June sun shines back reflected +from the blackness of a mountain tarn. I saw them then, and still I +seem to see them, for when he looked at me, although he said no word, +it was as if he knew me apart from everyone else in the world, even as +I know every one of my master's sheep. I felt that he knew too how I +had been looking at that cot in the vale and dreaming idly, forgetful +of my lambs. Therefore, though he said no word of rebuke to me, I +felt my cheeks grow hot, and I hung my head and spake not. Only, when +we reached the top of the hill, he turned and answered me at last. +'Thou judgest right, friend,' he said, 'I was indeed a shepherd in my +young years. I am a shepherd even now, though as yet with full few +sheep. But, hereafter, it may be....' + +I did not wait for the end of his sentence. Now that we were come to +level ground I was fain to show that I was not a careless, idle +shepherd in truth. My mind was set on Periwinkle's leg; broken, I +feared, for it hung down limply. I took her,--laid her on the grass +beside her dam while I fashioned a rough splint, shepherd-fashion, to +keep the leg steady till we reached the fold. Then, seeing the sun was +low by this time and nigh to setting over beyond the sea towards +Morecambe, I called my sheep and gathered them from all the fells, +near and far; and a fairer flock of sheep ye shall never see 'twixt +Scotland and Trent, as the song says, though I trow ye may, an ye look +carefully, find steeper hills than old Pendle. + +When my work was done, I took up Periwinkle in my arms once more, +anxious to descend with her ere night fell. Already I was climbing +carefully down the slope, when, bless me, I remembered the Stranger, +and that I had left him without a word, he having gone clean out of my +mind, and I not having given him so much as a 'thank ye' at parting, +for all he had saved Periwinkle. But I think I must have gone clean +out of his mind too. + +When I came back to him once more, there he was, still standing on the +very top of the hill, where I had left him. But now his head was +raised, the breeze lifted his hair. A kind of glory was on him. It +was light from the sunset sky, I thought at first; but it was brighter +far than that; for the sunset sky looked dull and dim beside it. His +eyes were roaming far and wide over the valleys and hills, even as my +eyes had wandered, when I was gathering my sheep. But his eyes +wandered further, and further far, till they reached the utmost line +of the Irish Sea to westward and covered all the country that lay +between. Then he turned himself around to the east again. A strong man +he was and a tall, and the glory was still on his face, though now he +had the sunset sky at his back. And he opened his mouth and spake. +Strange were his words: + +'If but one man,' said he, 'but one man or woman, were raised by the +Lord's Power to stand and live in the same Spirit that the Apostles +and Prophets were in, he or she should shake all this country for +miles round.' Shake all the country! He had uttered a fearsome thing. +'Nay, Master Stranger, bethink ye,' I said, going up to him, 'how may +that be? What would happen to me and the sheep were these fells to +shake? Even now, though they stand steady, you have seen that wayward +lambs like Periwinkle will fall over and do themselves a mischief.' So +I spake, being but a witless lad. But my words might have been the +wind passing by him, so little he heeded them. I doubt if he even +heard or knew that I was there although I stood close at his side. For +again his eyes were resting on the Irish Sea, and on the country that +lay shining in the sun towards Furness, and on the wide, glistening +sands round Morecambe Bay. And then he turned himself round to the +north where lie the high mountains that can at times be seen, or +guessed, in the glow of the setting sun. Thus, as he gazed on all that +fair land, the Stranger spoke. Again he uttered strange words. + +At first his voice was low and what he said reached me not, save only +the words: 'A great people, a great people to be gathered.' + +Whereat I, being, as I say, but a lad then, full of my own notions and +mighty sure of myself as young lads are, plucked at his sleeve, having +heard but the last words, and supposing that he had watched me +gathering my flock for the fold. + +'Not people, Master Stranger,' I interrupted. ''Tis my business to +gather sheep. Sheep and silly, heedless lambs like Periwinkle, 'tis +them I must gather for my master's fold.' + +He saw and heard me then, full surely. + +'Aye,' he said, and his voice, though deep, had music in it, while his +eyes pierced me yet again, but more gently this time, so that I made +sure he had seen me tending Periwinkle and knew that I had done the +best I could. 'Aye, verily thou dost well. Shepherd of Pendle, to +gather lambs and silly sheep for their master's fold. I, too....' But +there again he broke off and fell once more into silence. + +Thus I left him, still standing atop of the hill; but as I turned to +go I heard his voice yet again, and though I looked not round, the +sound of it was as if a man were speaking to his friend, for all I +knew that he stood there, atop of the hill, alone: + +'I thank thee, Lord, that Thou hast let me see this day in what places +Thou hast a great people, a great people to be gathered.' + +Thereat I partly understood, yet turned not back again, nor sought to +enquire further of his meaning; for the daylight was fast fading and I +had need of all my skill in getting home my sheep. + + + + +VII. THE PEOPLE IN WHITE RAIMENT + + + + + _'After a while he (G.F.) + travelled up further towards the + dales in Yorkshire, as Wensdale, + and Sedburgh, and amongst the + hills, dales, and mountains he + came on and convinced many of the + eternal Truth.'--M. FOX'S + Testimony to G. FOX._ + + + _'In the mighty power of God, go + on, preaching the Gospel to every + creature, and discipling them in + the name of the Father, Son, and + Holy Spirit. In the name of Christ + preach the mighty day of the Lord + to all the consciences of them who + have long lain in darkness.... In + the name of the Lord Jesus Christ + go on, that that of God in all + consciences may witness that ye + are sent of God and are of God and + so according to that speak. Sound, + sound the trumpet abroad, ye + valiant soldiers of Christ's + Kingdom, of which there is no + end.... Be famous in his Light and + bold in his strength.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'Let us in our message offer that + which is beyond all creeds,--the + evidence in our lives of communion + with the Spirit of God.'--J. W. + ROWNTREE._ + + + + +VII. THE PEOPLE IN WHITE RAIMENT + + +The summer twilight was fading into night. The moon, hidden at her +rising by a bank of clouds, had now climbed high above them, and shone +down, a golden lamp from the clear evening sky. It was already dusk +when the Shepherd of Pendle disappeared with his flock into the dewy +valley. It was already light again, with the pallid light of the moon, +when at length George Fox descended old Pendle Hill. Heavily he trod +and slowly. Wrapped in thought was he, as a man who has seen things +greater and more mysterious than he can express or comprehend. Only as +he descended the slope of the hill did he remember that he was bodily +weary, having eaten and drunk little for several days. A short +distance from the summit, his ear caught the tinkle of falling water; +and guided by its gentle music he came to where a tiny spring gushed +out of the hillside, and went leaping on its way, gleaming like a +thread of silver. Fox knelt down upon the soft turf, and dipping his +hand, cup-wise, into the water, he carried with difficulty a few +shining drops to his parched lips. The cool freshness of even this +scanty draught revived him. He looked round, his glance roaming over +the wide landscape that lay, mist-filled and moon-filled, beneath him, +but as yet scarce seeing what he saw. Then, rising and quickening his +steps, he hastened down the hill to the place where, hours before, his +companion, Richard Farnsworth, had promised to await his return. + +Even faithful Richard had grown weary, as time passed and the night +drew on apace. He had been minded to chide his friend for his +forgetfulness and long delay, but as the two men met, something +stopped him, or ever he began to speak. Maybe it was the moonlight +that fell full upon George Fox's countenance, or maybe there was in +truth visible there some faint reflection of the radiance that +transfigured the face of Moses, when he too, coming down from a far +mightier revelation on a far loftier mountain, 'wist not that the skin +of his face shone.' + +At any rate Richard, loyal soul, checked the impatient words of +remonstrance that had risen to his lips. Silently putting his hand +through his friend's arm, he led him a mile or two further along the +road, until they came to the small wayside inn where they intended to +spend the night. + +No sooner were they within doors than Richard was startled afresh by +the pallor of his companion's countenance. The glory had departed now. +Nothing but utter weariness remained. In all haste Richard called for +food and drink, and placing them before Fox he almost forced him to +partake. Fox swallowed a few mouthfuls of bread, and drank a little +clear red wine in a glass. Then as he set the glass down, he noticed +the inn-keeper who was standing by, watching his guest's every +movement with curious eyes. + +A rough, plain countryman, he seemed, mine host of the ale-house, to +most of those who had dealings with him. But Fox, in spite of his own +bodily hunger and physical weariness, discerned that the spirit of the +man before him knew the cravings of a yet keener need: was fainting +under the weight of a yet heavier load. Instantly he recognised the +seeking soul within, even as the Shepherd of Pendle a few hours +previously, out on the hillside, had recognised his master's mark on +the straying sheep. Forgetting his own weariness, even for the time +putting aside the remembrance of the visions he had seen, he set +himself to win and satisfy this humble soul at his side. + +'I declared Truth to the man of the house,' so runs his Journal, 'and +wrote a paper to the priests and professors declaring "the day of the +Lord and that Christ was come to teach His people Himself, by His +power and spirit in their hearts, and to bring people off from all the +world's ways and teaching, to His own free teaching who had bought +them, and was the Saviour of all them that believed in Him." And the +man of the house did spread the paper up and down and was mightily +affected with Truth!' + +The inn-keeper went out full of gladness to 'publish Truth' in his +turn. Henceforth he was a new man in the power of the new message that +had been entrusted to him. A new life lay before him. + +But when the two friends were once more alone together, and the +immediate task was done, Richard Farnsworth perceived the strange look +that had silenced him at the foot of the mountain returning to his +companion's face. Only now the weariness was fading, it was the glory +that returned. + +Pushing away the table, George Fox rose to his feet, and stretched +both his arms out wide. He and Farnsworth were alone in the narrow inn +parlour, lighted only by one flickering rushlight. So small was the +room that the whitewashed walls pressed close on every side. So low +was the ceiling that when Fox arose and drew himself up to his full +height the black oak beams were scarce a hand's breadth above his +head. + +Yet Richard, as he looked up, awed and silent, from his stool by the +table, felt as if his friend were still standing far above him on the +summit of a high hill, with nothing but the heights of sky beyond his +head and with the hills and valleys of the whole world stretching away +below his feet. + +'I see,' said Fox, and, as he spoke, to Richard too the narrow walls +seemed to open and melt away into infinite space on every side: 'I see +a people in white raiment, by a riverside--a great people--in white +raiment, coming to the Lord.' + +The flickering rushlight spluttered and went out. Through the low +casement window the white mists could be seen, still rising from every +bend and fold of the widespread valleys that lay around them, rising +up, up, like an innumerable company of spirit-filled souls, while the +moon shone down serenely over all. + + +II + +It was a few days later, and Whitsun Eve. The same traveller who had +climbed to the top of old Pendle Hill 'with much ado, it was so +steep,' was coming down now on the far side of the Yorkshire dales. + +'A lusty strong man of body' but 'of a grave look or countenance,' he +'travelled much on foot through rough and untrodden paths.' 'As he +passed through Wensleydale he advised the people as he met or passed +through them' 'to fear God,' 'which ... did much alarm the people, it +being a time that many people were filled with zeal.'[3] + +At sunset he passed through a village of flax-weavers whose +settlements lay in the low flatts that bordered the rushing river +Rawthey a mile or two outside of Sedbergh Town. + +'I came through the Dales,' says George Fox in his Journal, 'and as I +was passing along the way, I asked a man which was Richard Robinson's, +and he asked me from whence I came, and I told him "From the Lord."' + +This must have been a rather unexpected answer from a traveller on the +high road. Can you not see the countryman's surprised face as he turns +round and stares at the speaker, and wonders whatever he means? + +'So when I came to Richard Robinson's I declared the Everlasting Truth +to him, and yet a dark jealousy rose up in him after I had gone to +bed, that I might be somebody that was come to rob his house, and he +locked all his doors fast. And the next day I went to a separate +meeting at Justice Benson's where the people generally was convinced, +and this was the place that I had seen a people coming forth in white +raiment; and a mighty meeting there was and is to this day near +Sedbarr which I gathered in the name of Jesus.' + +These flax-weavers of Brigflatts were a company of 'Seekers,' +unsatisfied souls who had strayed away like lost sheep from all the +sects and Churches, and were longing for a spiritual Shepherd to come +and find them again and bring them home to the fold. + +George Fox was a weaver's son himself. Directly he heard it, the whirr +of the looms beside the rushing Rawthey must have been a homelike +sound in his ears. But more than that, his spirit was immediately at +home among the little colony of weavers of snowy linen; for he +recognised at once that these were the riverside people 'in white +raiment,' whom he had seen in his vision, and to whom he had been +sent. + +Not only the flax-weavers, but also some of the 'considerable people' +of the neighbourhood accepted the message of the wandering preacher, +who came to them over the dales that memorable Whitsuntide. The master +of the house where the meeting was held, Colonel Gervase Benson +himself, and his good wife Dorothy also, were 'convinced of Truth,' +and faithfully did they adhere thereafter to their new faith, through +fair weather and foul. In later years, men noted that this same +Colonel Benson, following his teacher's love of simplicity, and hatred +of high-sounding titles, generally styled himself merely a +'husbandman,' notwithstanding 'the height and glory of the world that +he had a great share of,'[4] seeing that 'he had been a Colonel, a +Justice of the Peace, Mayor of Kendal, and Commissary in the +Archdeaconry of Richmond before the late domestic wars. Yet, as an +humble servant of Christ, he downed those things.'[5] His wife, +Mistress Dorothy, also, was to prove herself a faithful friend to her +teacher in after years, when his turn, and her turn too, came to +suffer for 'Truth's sake.' + +But in these opening summer days of 1652, no shadows fell on the +sunrise of enthusiasm and of hope, as, in the good Justice's house +beside the rushing Rawthey, the gathering of the 'great people' began. + +The day was Whitsunday, the anniversary of that other gathering in the +upper room at Jerusalem, when the Apostles being all 'in one place, +with one accord, of one mind,' the rushing mighty Wind came and shook +all the place where they were sitting, followed by the cloven tongues +'like as of fire, that sat upon each of them.' + +The gift given at Pentecost has never been recalled. Throughout the +ages the Spirit waits to take possession of human hearts, ready to +fill even the humblest lives with Its Own Power of breath and flame. + +This was the Truth that had grown dusty and neglected in England in +this seventeenth century. The 'still, small Voice' had been drowned in +the clash of arms and in the almost worse clamour of a thousand +different sects. Now that, after his own long search in loneliness and +darkness, George Fox had at length found the Voice speaking to him +unmistakably in the depths of his own heart, the whole object of his +life was to persuade others to listen also to 'the true Teacher that +is within,' and to convince them that He was always waiting to speak +not only in their hearts, but also through their lives. 'My message +unto them from the Lord was,' he says, 'that they should all come +together again and wait to feel the Lord's power and spirit in +themselves, to gather them together to Christ, that they might be +taught of Him who says "Learn of Me."' + +This was the Truth--an actual, living Truth--that not only the +flax-weavers of Brigflatts, but many other companies of 'Seekers' +scattered through the dales of Yorkshire and Westmorland, as well as +in many other places, had been longing to hear proclaimed. 'Thirsty +Souls that hunger' was one of the names by which they called +themselves. It was to these thirsty, hungering Souls that George Fox +had been led at the very moment when he was burning to share with +others the vision of the 'wide horizons of the future' that had been +unfolded to him on the top of old Pendle Hill. + +No wonder that the Seekers welcomed him and flocked round him, +drinking in his words as if their thirsty souls could never have +enough. No wonder that he welcomed them with equal gladness, rejoicing +not only in their joy, but yet more in that he saw his vision's +fulfilment beginning. Here in these secluded villages he had been led +unmistakably to the 'Great People,' whom he had seen afar off, waiting +to be gathered. + +Within a fortnight from that assembly on Whit-Sunday at Justice +Benson's house George Fox was no longer a solitary, wandering teacher, +trying to convince scattered people here and there of the Truths he +had discovered. Within a fortnight--a wonderful fortnight truly--he +had become the leader of a mighty movement that gathered adherents and +grew of itself, spreading with an irresistible impulse until, only a +few years later, one Englishman out of every ninety was a member of +the SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[3] First Publishers of Truth. + +[4] First Publishers of Truth. + +[5] First Publishers of Truth. + + + + +VIII. A WONDERFUL FORTNIGHT + + + + + _'I look upon Cumberland and + Westmorland as the Galilee of + Quakerism.'--T. HODGKIN._ + + + _'They may have failed in their + intellectual formulation, but at + least they succeeded in finding a + living God, warm and tender and + near at hand, the Life of their + lives, the Day Star in their + hearts; and their travail of Soul, + their brave endurance, and their + loyal obedience to vision have + helped to make our modern + world.'--RUFUS M. JONES._ + + + _'We ceased from the teachings of + all men, and their words and their + worships, and their temples and + all their baptisms and churches, + and we ceased from our own words + and professions and practices in + religion.... We met together + often, and waited upon the Lord in + pure silence from our own words, + and hearkened to the voice of the + Lord and felt His word in our + hearts.'--E. BURROUGH._ + + + _'John Camm, he was my father + according to the flesh, so was he + also a spiritual father and + instructor of me in the way of + Truth and Righteousness ... for + his tender care was great for the + education of me and the rest of + his children and family in the + Nurture and Fear of the + Lord.'--THOMAS CAMM._ + + + _'Death cannot separate us, for in + the never-failing love of God + there is union for evermore.'--J. + CAMM._ + + + + +VIII. A WONDERFUL FORTNIGHT + +I + + +The annual Fair on Whitsun Wednesday is the gayest time of the whole +year at Sedbergh. For a few hours the solid grey town under the green +fells gives itself up to gaiety and merriment. + +The gentry of the neighbourhood as well as the country folk for miles +around come flocking to the annual hiring of farm lads and lasses, +which is the main business of the Fair. Thoughts of profit and the +chance of making a good bargain fill the heads of the older +generation. But the youths and maidens come, eager-eyed, looking for +romance. At the Fair they seek to guess what Fate may hold in store +for them during the long months of labour that will follow hard on +their few hours of jollification. + +'All manner of finery was to be had' at the Fair; 'there were morris +and rapier dances, wrestling and love-making going on,' and plenty of +hard drinking too. 'The Fair at Sedbergh' was the emphatic destination +of many a prosperous farmer and labourer on a Whitsun Wednesday +morning; but it was 'Sebba Fair' he cursed thickly under his breath as +he reeled home at night. + +In truth seventeenth-century Sedbergh was a busy place, not only in +Fair week, but at other times too, with its stately old church and its +grammar school; to say nothing of the fact that, in these days of +Oliver's Protectorate, it boasted no less than forty-eight different +religious sects among its few hundred inhabitants. Only the sad-eyed +Seekers, coming down in little groups from their scattered hamlets, +exchanged sorrowful greetings as they met one another amid all the +riot and hubbub of the Fair; for they had tried the forty-eight sects +in turn for the nourishment their souls needed, and had tried them all +in vain. + +Until this miraculous Whitsuntide of June 1652, when, suddenly, in a +moment, everything was changed. + +The little groups of Seekers stood still and looked at one another in +astonishment as they came out from the shadow of the narrow street of +grey stone houses into the open square in the centre of the town. For +there, opposite the market cross and under the spreading boughs of a +gigantic yew-tree, they saw a young man standing on a bench, and +preaching as they had never heard anyone preach before. Behind him +rose the massive square tower, and the long row of clerestory windows +that were, then as now, the glory of Sedbergh Church. The tall green +grass of the churchyard was already trampled down by the feet of +hundreds of spell-bound listeners. + +Who was this unexpected Stranger who dared to interrupt even the noisy +business of the Fair with the earnestness and insistence of his +appeal? He was a young and handsome man, with regular features and +hair that hung in short curls under his hat-brim, contrary to the +Puritan fashion; big-boned in body, and of a commanding presence. The +boys of the grammar school, determined to make the most of their +holiday, thought it good sport at first to mock at the Stranger's +garb. As he stood there, lifted up above them on the rough bench, they +could see every detail of the queer leather breeches that he wore +underneath his long coat. His girdle with its alchemy buttons showed +off grandly too, while the fine linen bands he wore at his neck +gleamed out with dazzling whiteness against the dark branches of +Sedbergh's majestic old yew-tree. + +The preacher's words and tones and his piercing eyes quickly overawed +his audience, and made them forget his outlandish appearance. Even the +boys could understand what he was saying, for he seemed to be speaking +to each one of them, as much as to any of the grown-up people. And +what was this he was telling them? With outstretched hand he pointed +upwards, insisting that that church, the beautiful building, the pride +of Sedbergh, was not a church at all. It was only a steeple-house; +they themselves were the true church, their own souls and bodies were +the temples chosen by the Spirit of God for His habitation. No wonder +the schoolboys, and many older people too, became awed and silent at +the bare idea of such a Guest. None of the eight-and-forty sects of +Sedbergh town had ever heard doctrine like this before. Possibly there +might not have been eight-and-forty of them if they had. + +Once during the discourse a Captain got up and interrupted the +Stranger: 'Why do you preach out here under the yew-tree? Why do you +not go inside the church and preach there?' + +'But,' says George Fox, 'I said unto him that I denied their church. + +'Then stood up Francis Howgill, a separate preacher, that had not seen +me before, and so he began to dispute with the Captain, but he held +his peace. Then said Francis Howgill, "This man speaks with +authority, and not as the Scribes." + +'And so,' continues George Fox, 'I opened to the people that that +ground and house was no holier than another place, and that house was +not the Church, but the people which Christ is head of. And so, after +a while that I had made a stand among the people, the priests came up +to me and I warned them to repent. And one of them said I was mad, and +so they turned away. But many people were glad at the hearing of the +Truth declared unto them that day, which they received gladly. + +'And there came one Edward Ward, and he said my very eyes pierced +through him, and he was convinced of God's everlasting truth and lived +and died in it, and many more was convinced there at that time.' + +Convinced they were indeed, as they had never been convinced in all +their former lives; and now that they had found the teacher they +wanted, the hungry, thirsty Seekers were not going to let him go +again. Almost overturning the booths of the Fair, these solemn, +sad-eyed men jostled each other like children in their endeavours to +reach their new friend. + +There at the back of the crowd solid John Camm, the prosperous +'statesman' farmer of Cammsgill, near Preston Patrick, could be seen +waving his staff like a schoolboy to attract the preacher's attention +as soon as the sermon stopped. 'Come home, young Sir! Come home with +me,' John Camm called out lustily. + +But ruddy-cheeked John Audland, the linen-draper of Crosslands, had +been quicker than the elderly farmer. He was a happy bridegroom that +summer, and bringing his wife with him for the first time to Sedbergh +Fair. She--a Seeker like himself--had been known in her maiden days as +gentle Anne Newby of Kendal town: yet the ways of the dalesmen and of +the country people were in a measure strange to her, seeing all her +girlhood had been spent at her aunt's house in London town, where she +had received her education. Possibly she had looked forward not +without dread to the rough merry-making of the Fair; but she too had +kindled at the Stranger's message. Her shyness fled from her as, with +her hand locked fast in her husband's, the two pressed forward. The +crowd seemed to melt away at sight of their radiant faces, and almost +before the sermon was ended the young couple found themselves face to +face with the preacher. The same longing was in both their hearts: the +same words rose unbidden to their lips: 'Come back with us to +Crosslands, Sir! Come back and be the first guest to bless our home.' + +George Fox smiled as he met the eager gaze of the young folk, and +stretched out a friendly hand. But an old slow man with a long white +beard had forestalled even the impetuous rush of the youthful bride +and bridegroom. + +'Nay; now, good friends,' said Farmer Thomas Blaykling of Drawwell, +'my home is nigh at hand. For the next three days the Stranger is +mine. He must stay with me and I will bring him to Firbank Chapel on +Sunday. Come ye also thither and hear him again, and bring every +seeking man and woman and child in all these dales to hear him too; +and thereafter ye shall have him in your turn and entertain him where +ye will.' + + +II + +The first three peaceful days after the Fair were spent by the young +preacher at Drawwell Farm, knitting up a friendship with its inmates +that neither time nor suffering was able thereafter to unravel. + +'The house inhabited by the Blayklings may still be seen. Its thick +walls, small windows and rooms, with the clear well behind, must be +almost in the same condition as in the week we are remembering.'[6] + +In later days many a 'mighty Meeting' was to be held in the big barn +that adjoins the small whitewashed house with its grey flagged roof. +Drawwell is situated about two miles away from Sedbergh, on the sunny +slope of a hill overlooking the River Lune, that here forms the +boundary between the two counties of Westmorland and Yorkshire. + +There, under the shadow of the great fells, George Fox had time for +many a quiet talk with his hosts, in the days that followed the +Whitsuntide Fair. John Blaykling, the farmer's son, was a man of +strong character. He was afterwards to become himself a powerful +preacher of the Truth and to suffer for it when persecution came. +Moreover, 'he was a great supporter of them that were in low +circumstances in the world, often assisting them in difficult cases to +the exposing of himself to great hazards of loss.' + +He had also an especial care for the feelings of others. On the Sunday +after the Fair he was anxious to take his guest to Firbank Chapel, +where the Seekers' service was to be held, high up on the hill +opposite Drawwell. Yet he seems to have had some misgivings that his +guest might be too full of his own powerful message to remember to +behave courteously to others, who, although in a humbler way, were +still trying to declare the Truth as far as they had a knowledge of +it. Fox writes in his Journal: + + 'And the next First day I came to Firbank Chapel, where Francis + Howgill and John Audland were preaching in the morning, and John + Blaykling and others came to me and desired me not to reprove + them publicly, for they was not parish teachers but pretty sober + men, but I would not tell them whether I would or no, though I + had little in me to declare publicly against them, but told them + they must leave me to the Lord's movings. The chapel was full of + people and many could not get in. Francis Howgill (who was + preaching) said he thought I looked into the Chapel, but I did + not. And he said that I might have killed him with a crab-apple, + the Lord's power had so surprised him. + + 'So they had quickly done with their preaching to the people at + that time, and they and the people went to their dinners, but + abundance stayed till they came again. And I went to a brook and + got me a little water, and so I came and sat me down atop of a + rock, (for the word of the Lord came to me that I must go and + sit upon the rock in the mountain, even as Christ had done + before). + + 'And in the afternoon the people gathered about me with several + separate teachers, where it was judged there was above a + thousand people. And all those several separate teachers were + convinced of God's everlasting truth that day, amongst whom I + declared freely and largely God's everlasting truth and word of + life about three hours. And there was many old people went into + the chapel and looked out of the windows and thought it a + strange thing to see a man to preach on a hill or mountain, and + not in their church as they called it. So I was made to open to + the people that the steeple-house and the ground whereon it + stood was no more holier than that mountain ... but Christ was + come who ended the temple and the priests and the tithes, and + Christ said, "Learn of me," and God said, "This is my beloved + Son, hear ye Him." + + 'For the Lord had sent me with His everlasting gospel to preach, + and His word of life so that they all might come to know Christ + their Teacher, their Counsellor, their Shepherd to feed them, + and their Bishop to oversee them, and their Prophet to open to + them, and to know their bodies to be temples of God and Christ + for them to dwell in.... And so, turning the people to the + Spirit of God, and from the darkness to the light, that they + might believe in it and become children of light.' + + +III + +'Now, it is our turn,' insisted ruddy-faced John Audland, 'George Fox +must come home with me. My house at Crosslands will be the most +convenient resting-place for him, seeing it lies mid-way between here +and Preston Patrick; and to Preston Patrick and the General Meeting of +our Seeking People he must certainly come, since it is to be held in +three days' time. There are many folk, still seeking, on the other +side of the dales, who have not yet heard the good news, but who will +rejoice mightily when they find him there. Besides, he has promised my +wife that he will be the first guest to come and bless our home.' + +'Yes in truth, he shall return with thee,' echoed Audland's friend, +John Camm of Cammsgill, 'since Preston Patrick is too far a step for +him to-day. He shall lodge with thee and thy good wife Anne, and bless +your home. But on Wednesday, betimes, thou must bring him to me at +Cammsgill right early in the day--and I will take him as my guest to +Preston Patrick and our Seekers' Meeting.' + +John Audland readily assented to this proposal. He and his wife would +have the wonderful Stranger all to themselves until Wednesday. As the +two men wandered back over the hills in a satisfied silence, his mind +was full of all the questions he meant to ask. For had not he himself, +though only a youth of twenty-two, been one of the appointed preachers +at Firbank Chapel? Truly he had done his best there, as at other +times, to feed the people; yet in spite of his words they had seemed +ever hungry, until the Stranger came among them, breaking the True +Bread of Life for all to share. + +John Audland was 'a young man of a comely countenance, and very lovely +qualities.'[7] Never a thought of jealousy or envy crossed his mind; +only he was filled with a longing to know more, to learn, to be fed +himself, that he, in his turn, might feed others. Still, being but +human, it was with slight irritation that he heard himself hailed with +a loud 'halloo!' from behind. Looking round, he beheld a long-legged +figure ambling after them along the dusty road, and recognised a +certain tactless youth, John Story by name, famous throughout the +district for his knack of thrusting himself in where he was least +wanted. Without so much as a 'by your leave' John Story caught up the +other two men and began a lively conversation as they walked along. + +Self-invited, he followed them into John Audland's home; where the +young bride, Anne, was too well bred to betray her disappointment at +this unexpected visitor. Elbowing his way rudely past the master of +the house and the invited guest, John Story stalked ahead into the +bridal parlour and sat himself down deliberately in the best chair. +'I'm your first guest now, Mistress Anne,' he said with a chuckle. +Then lighting his pipe he threw his head back and made himself +comfortable--evidently intending to stay the evening. But his chief +care and intention was to patronise George Fox. He had been at Firbank +also, and he had remembered enough of the sermon there to repeat some +of the preacher's words jestingly to his face. He handed his lighted +pipe to George Fox, saying, 'Come, will you take a pipe of +tobacco?'--and added, mockingly, seeing his hesitation, 'Come, all is +ours!' + +'But,' says George Fox, 'I looked upon him to be a forward bold lad; +and tobacco I did not take. But it came into my mind that the lad +might think I had not unity with the creation: for I saw he had a +flashy, empty notion of religion. So I took his pipe and put it to my +mouth, and gave it to him again to stop him lest his rude tongue +should say I had not unity with the creation.' + +And soon after this, let us hope, John Story, with his tobacco and his +rude tongue, saw fit to take his leave, and remove his unwelcome +presence. + + +IV + +Two more days of the 'wonderful fortnight' were passed in the +linen-draper's home at Crosslands before, on the Wednesday forenoon, +John Audland and his guest descended the dales of Westmorland and +climbed the steep, wooded glen that leads to Cammsgill Farm. There, at +the door, with hands outstretched in welcome, stood good John Camm and +his loving wife Mabel. Peeping behind them curiously at the Stranger +was their twelve-year-old son, Tom. At the windows of the farm were to +be seen the faces of the men-servants and maid-servants, for great was +the curiosity to see the Stranger of whom such great tidings had been +told. Among the serving-maids were two sisters, Jane and Dorothy +Waugh. Little did the eager girls imagine that the Stranger whom they +eyed so keenly was to alter the whole course of their lives by his +words that day; that, for both of them, the pleasant, easy, farm life +at Cammsgill was over, and that they were hereafter to go forth to +preach in their turn, to suffer beatings and cruel imprisonments, and +even to cross the seas, in order to publish the same Truth that he had +come to proclaim. + +Tom Camm also, boy as he was, was never to forget that eventful +morning. Long years afterwards he remembered every detail of it. + +'On the 4th day morning,' he writes, 'John Audland came with George +Fox to the house of John Camm at Cammsgill in Preston Patrick, who +with his wife and familie gladly received G.F.' + +And now, while they are 'gladly receiving' their guest and waiting +till it is time to go down the steep hill to Preston Patrick, let us +look back at the farm-house of Cammsgill where they are sitting, and +learn something of its history and that of its owners. + +It was to Cammsgill that Farmer John Camm had brought home his bride +on a late day of summer, thirteen years before the eventful year 1652 +of which these stories tell. A wise, prosperous man was good John +Camm, one of the most successful 'statesmen' in all the fertile dales +round about. So busy had he been developing his farm, and attending to +the numerous flocks and herds, that were ever increasing under his +skilful management, that time for love-making seemed to have been left +out of his life. But at last, when he was well over forty, he found +the one woman he had been unconsciously needing through all his +prosperous years to make his life round and complete. It was a mellow +day of Indian summer when John and Mabel Camm walked up the winding +road to Cammsgill for the first time as man and wife. But the golden +sunshine that lay on all the burnished riches of the well-filled +farm-yard was dim compared with the inward sunshine that gladdened the +farmer's heart. + +Farmer John had made a wise choice, and he knew it. In his eyes +nothing was good enough for his wife, not even the home where he had +been born, and where his ancestors for generations had lived and died; +so Cammsgill had been entirely rebuilt before that golden September +day when John and Mabel Camm came home to begin their new life +together. The re-building had been done in such solid fashion that +part of the farm-house still stands, well-proportioned and +serviceable, after nearly three centuries have passed to test it, +showing that he who builds for love builds truly and well. + +Mabel Camm was a proud woman as she stood at the door of her hillside +home and watched the autumn sunlight lighting up her husband's face as +he walked across his fields in the valley, or strode, almost with the +energetic step of a young man, up the crab-apple bordered track to the +farm. + +Close at his heels followed his collie, looking up into his master's +face with adoring affection. Not only every animal on the farm loved +the master, the men-servants and maid-servants also would do anything +to please him, for was he not ever mindful of their interests as if +they had been his own? In those days each labourer had three or four +acres of land as of right. This fostered an independent spirit and +made their affection a tribute worth the winning.[8] Later on that +same year, when winter came, earlier than its wont, the fells were +knee-deep in snow and all the beasts were brought for shelter round +the farm to protect them from the snow-drifts and bitter weather on +the upland pastures. + +Then it was that at nights in the snug farm-house kitchen, after the +day's work was done, John Camm and his young wife together carved +their initials on the 'brideswain,' a tall oak chest that held the +goodly stock of homespun linen and flax brought by Mabel Camm to her +new home. John Camm was something of an artist. His was the design of +the interlaced initials. All his life he had been a skilful carver +with his tools on the winter evenings, and now he took pleasure in +showing his bride the right way to use them and how to fashion her +strokes aright. Night after night the two heads bent over their task, +but to this day it may still be seen at Cammsgill that one of the two +artists was less skilful than the other, for Mabel's curves are more +angular and without the careless ease of her husband's. What, however, +did unskilful fingers matter when the firelight shone upon two happy +faces bending over the work close together, aglow with the inner +radiance of two thankful hearts? + +There were other uses for the brideswain the following summer. The +fair white sheets and pillow-cases were moved to an under-shelf. The +upper half of the chest was filled to overflowing with tiny garments +fashioned by Mabel's own fingers, skilful indeed at this dainty work. +No more woodcarving now, but endless rows of stitchery, tiny tucks and +delicate dotting, all ready to welcome the little son who arrived +before the summer's close, and completed his parents' joy. + +Since that day, a dozen years had slipped away. Now young Thomas Camm +was leaving childhood, as he had long left babyhood, behind him. He +was a big boy, quick, strong for his age, and bidding fair to be as +good a farmer as his father some day. + +'Cammsgill was a favourite house with both men and women servants, for +Mistress Camm took care that all had their fill of bread, butter, +milk, eggs or bacon, and each their three meals. Of the maid-servants, +Jane and Dorothy Waugh especially looked on their master as a father, +he was so kind and thoughtful of their needs. Indeed no one could walk +up the winding gill without meeting with a warm welcome from the +owners of the farm-house, and on winter evenings there was many a +large "sitting," by aid of the rushlights, in which the neighbours +joined, all hands being busy the while with the knitting of caps and +jerseys for the Kendal trade.... He and his wife greatly loved to +entertain visitors from a distance, especially those who were +like-minded with themselves, also looking for "the coming of the day +of the Lord,"'[9] for all the household at Cammsgill were of the +company of the "Seekers" who met every month at the Chapel of Preston +Patrick in the valley below. + +Now at last it is time for the Meeting. + +Thomas Camm's account continues: 'And it having been then a common +practice among the said seeking and religiously inclined people to +raise a General Meeting at Preston Patrick Chapel once a month, upon +the fourth day of the week, thither George Fox went, being accompanied +with John Audland and John Camm. John Audland would have had George +Fox go into the place or pew where usually he and the preacher did +sit, but he refused and took a back seat near the door, and John Camm +sat down by him, where he sat silent, waiting upon God for about half +an hour, in which time of silence Francis Howgill seemed uneasy, and +pulled out his Bible and opened it, and stood up several times, +sitting down again and closing his book, and dread and fear being on +him that he durst not begin to preach. After the said silence and +waiting George Fox stood up in the mighty power of God, and in the +demonstration thereof was his mouth opened to preach Christ Jesus, the +Light of Life, and the way to God, and Saviour of all that believe +and obey Him, which was delivered in that power and that authority +that most of the auditory, which were several hundreds, were +effectually reached to the heart, and convinced of the truth that very +day, for it was the day of God's power. A notable day indeed, never to +be forgotten by me Thomas Camm.... I, being then present at that +Meeting, a school-boy but about twelve years of age, yet, I bless the +Lord for His mercy, then religiously inclined, do still remember that +blessed and glorious day, in which my soul, by that living testimony +then borne in the demonstration of God's power, was effectually +opened, reached and convinced, with many more who are seals of that +powerful ministry that attended this faithful minister of the Lord +Jesus Christ, and by which we were convinced, and turned from darkness +to light and from Satan's power to the power of God. After which +Meeting at Preston Chapel, G.F. came to the house of John Camm at +Cammsgill. Next day travelled to Kendal where he had a meeting, where +many were convinced and received his testimony with joy.' + +The 'wonderful fortnight' was drawing to a close. The vision on Pendle +Hill, when George Fox beheld a people 'as thick as motes in the sun +that should in time be brought home to the Lord,' had already begun to +form around it a Society of Friends who were pledged to carry it out. + +Remember always, it was not the Society that beheld the vision; it was +the vision that created and creates the Society. + +The vision is the important thing; for it is still unfulfilled. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[6] Ernest E. Taylor, _A Great People to be gathered._ + +[7] Sewel's _History of the Quakers._ + +[8] E.E. Taylor, _Faithful Servants of God._ + +[9] E.E. Taylor, _Faithful Servants of God._ + + + + +IX. UNDER THE YEW-TREES + + + + + _'George Fox was a born leader of + souls. The flame of religious + ardour which burned in him, and + the intense conviction and + spiritual power with which he + spoke, would in any age have made + him great. He was born in a + generation of revolutions and + upheavals, both political and + spiritual. Confusion and unrest, + war and reformations, give to + great spirits a power which, when + life is calmer, they might not + attain. Fox drew to himself a + multitude of noble souls, + attracted to him by that which + they shared with him, the sense of + spiritual realities, and the + consciousness of the guiding + Spirit. The age of George Fox + thirsted for spiritual reality. He + had found it. Men on all sides + were ready to find it as he had. + The dales of Yorkshire, and the + hills of lakeland, not less than + the towns of the Midlands, had men + in them ready to rejoice in the + touch of the spiritual, ready to + respond to the movement of the + Spirit. See him then arriving at + some farm-yard in the hills, or + may be at a country squire's + hall....'--CYRIL HEPHER, + 'Fellowship of Silence.'_ + + + _'The house was no doubt full of + music, as were indeed many others, + in that most musical of English + centuries.'--J. BAILEY, 'Milton.'_ + + + _Motto on Seal of a letter to M. + Fell:_ + + 1660 + '_GOD ABOVE + KEEP US IN HIS LIGHT + AND LOVE._' + + + + +IX. UNDER THE YEW-TREES + + +Six gay girls sat together, laughing and talking, under the shadow of +the ancient yew-trees that guard the eastern corner of Swarthmoor +Hall. The interlaced boughs of the gloomy old trees made a cool canopy +of shadow above the merry maidens. It was a breathless day of late +June, 1652, at the very end of the 'wonderful fortnight.' + +There they were, Judge Fell's six fair daughters: Margaret, Bridget, +Isabel, Sarah, Mary and little Susanna, who was but three years old, +on that hot summer afternoon. + +''Tis a pity that there are only six of us,' Sarah was saying with +mock melancholy. 'Now, suppose my brother George instead of being a +boy had been a girl, then there would have been seven. The Seven +Sisters of Swarthmoor Hall! In truth it has a gallant sound like unto +a play. Seven Young Sisters and Seven Ancient Yew Trees! Each of us +might have a yew-tree then for her very own.' So saying, Sarah leant +back against the huge gnarled trunk behind her, her golden curls +rippling like sunshine over the wrinkled wood, while her blue eyes +peered into the dark-green depths overhead. + +'Moreover, in that case,' continued Isabel, with a touch of sarcasm in +her voice, 'and supposing the Seventh Sister, who doth not exist, were +to have seven more daughters in her turn,--then it might be expected +that the Seventh Daughter of that Seventh Daughter would have keener +than mortal hearing, and sharper than mortal sight. She would be able +to hear the grass growing, and know when the fairies were making +their rings, and be able to catch the Brownies at their tasks, so the +country people say. Heigh ho! I wish she were here! Or I would that I +myself were the Seventh Daughter of a Seventh Daughter, or still +better the Seventh Son of a Seventh Son, for they have real true +second sight, and can look in magic crystals and foresee things to +come.' + +'Now it is my turn,' chimed in Bridget, 'I am the eldest but one, and +it is time I talked a little. Then when the Seventh Daughter of the +Seventh Daughter walks hand in hand with the Seventh Son of a Seventh +Son (neither of whom, allow me to remind you in passing, ever have +existed, or, it is to be hoped, ever will exist in a well-connected +family like ours), when they walk hand in hand under the shade of the +Seven Ancient Yew-trees which, we all know, have guarded Swarthmoor +for centuries ... the Seven Ancient Trees will be sure to overhear +them whispering honeyed nothings to each other. Then the oldest and +wisest of all the Trees (by the bye, it is that one behind you, +Isabel!) will say, "Dearly beloved Children, although the words you +say are incredibly foolish, yet to me they sound almost wise compared +with the still more incredibly foolish conversation carried on beneath +my old boughs in the Year of our Lord one thousand six hundred and +fifty-two by your ever venerable Great Aunt Isabel and your still more +venerable Great Aunt Sarah!"' + +'O _Bridget_,' came in aggrieved tones from the two younger girls as +they flung themselves upon her and put laughing hands over her mouth, +'that is too bad, that is unkind.' + +The eldest sister, Margaret, looked up from the low bench where she +was sitting with Mary and Susanna, the two youngest children beside +her. Seeing the struggling heap of muslin and ribbons on the grass she +resolutely turned the talk into less personal channels. 'I do not at +all agree with Sarah,' she said calmly, 'besides it is much too hot to +argue. For my part, _I_ think Six Sisters are fully enough for any +household. If I had more than five younger ones to look after, I don't +know what I should do. Even for the yew-trees it is better. There is +one now for each of us to sit under, and one to spare for my mother +when at last she comes home. I wonder what makes her so late? When +will she be here?' + +A ripple of expectation stirred the maidens. Moved by the same +impulse, they all looked out under the dark yew branches and over the +sunlit orchard, beyond which lay the high road leading up the hill +from Ulverston. Nothing as yet was to be seen and no faintest rumble +of approaching wheels reached any of the listeners. + +Everywhere the hot air quivered in the sunshine. Even the stately +Elizabethan Hall with its high stone chimneys and mullioned bay +windows looked drowsy and half asleep. A pale wisp of smoke was +ascending listlessly in a straight line above the gabled roofs high up +into the far still air. Scarcely a sound came from the outbuildings +that lay beyond the Hall. Even the pigeons on the roof were too hot to +coo. In the herb garden beneath, the flowers drooped in the scorching +light. Glare everywhere. Only under the yew-trees was there to be +found a pool of grateful shadow. And even that pool had a sunshine of +its own radiating from the group of merry maidens, with their bright +faces and gay voices raised in perpetual talk, or laughter, or song. +For a little while they seemed to be busy practising a madrigal. Then +the irrepressible chatter burst out afresh. Cool and fragrant all the +maidens looked, in their dresses of clear sprigged muslin, each tied +at waist, wrists, and throat with ribbons of a different colour: +lilac, lavender, primrose, cherry, emerald, and blue. The garden roses +might droop in the hot garden outside, but the roses on the girls' +cheeks, instead of fading, flushed and deepened with growing +excitement. They all seemed full of suppressed eagerness, evidently +waiting for something much desired to happen. + +At length tall Bridget, exclaiming, 'It must be time now!' sprang to +her feet, and, stooping under the clinging boughs of the yew-tree +temple, drew herself up to her full height outside its shade. Her gaze +roamed over the long grass of the orchard and down the broad path, to +the high stone arch of the entrance gate through which she could just +catch sight of a glimpse of dusty road. + +'Nothing yet!' she reported, 'not even a sign of the black horses' +ears or heads above the hedge and not a sound upon the road.' + +Margaret raised her head to listen. She inherited her mother's placid, +Madonna-like beauty, and was at this time the fairest of the whole +sisterhood. Sarah, who was hereafter to be considered not only the wit +but also the beauty of the family, was at this time a child of ten, +and not yet grown into her full inheritance of comeliness. In after +years it was said of Sarah that she was 'not only beautiful and lovely +to a high degree, but was wonderfully happy in ingeny and memory.' +But even at her loveliest it was never said of her, as it was of +Margaret, that she was 'glorious, comely, and beautiful in that which +never fades away,' 'lovely in the truth, an example of holiness and +wisdom.' + +This comely Margaret, seeing and hearing nothing of what she sought, +bent her fair face down once more to the little sisters seated on each +side of her. To beguile the waiting time she was making for them a +chain of the daisies they had gathered as they flitted about, like gay +white butterflies, over the grass. Mary was eight years old, and +therefore able to pick daisies with discretion; but the stalks of the +flowers gathered by little Susanna were all sadly too short and the +flowers themselves suffered in her tight hot hand. At this moment +Isabel ran to join Bridget and, standing on tiptoe beside her, tried +hard to see as much as her taller sister. + +'Nothing yet,' she reported, 'not a sign of the black horses nor even +the top of the coach.' Sarah, not to be outdone, swung herself up, +with a laugh, on to one of the lower boughs of the oldest yew-tree, +and standing on it thrust her golden head through the thick canopy +overhead. She peered out in her turn looking across the orchard and +over the hedge to the road, then, bending down with a laughing face to +Margaret and the little ones, 'I'm tallest now,' she exclaimed, 'and I +shall be the first to spy the coach when it reaches the top of the +hill!' + +But agile Isabel, ever ready to follow a sister's lead, had already +left Bridget's side and swung herself up, past Sarah, on to a yet +higher bough. + +'Methinks not, Mistress Sarah,' she called over her head, slowly and +demurely, 'for now I can see yet farther, and there are the horses' +ears and heads; yea and the chariot also, and now, at last! our +mother's face!' + +But the group below had not waited for her tidings. They had heard the +rumble of the wheels and the horses' feet on the road. With cries of +joy, off they all sped down the path and across the orchard; to see +who should be first at the gate to welcome their mother. Only Margaret +stayed behind on her bench among the scattered daisies, with a +slightly pensive expression on her lovely face. + +'All of them flying to greet her!' Margaret thought to herself. 'See, +Bridget has caught up even Susanna in her arms, that she shall not be +left too far behind; while I, the eldest, whom my mother doth ever +call her right hand, am forced to stay here. But my mother knows that +my knee prevents me. She will not forget her Margaret. Already she +sees me, and is beckoning the others to come this way.' + +In truth Mistress Fell had already alighted and was now passing +swiftly under the high stone arch of the gateway. Never did she come +through that gate without a flash of remembrance of the first time she +entered there, leaning on her husband's arm, a bride of seventeen +summers, younger than her own fair Margaret now. She entered, this +time, leaning on the arm of tall Bridget, walking as if she were a +trifle weary, yet stooping to pick up little Susanna and to cover her +with kisses as she moved up the path surrounded by her cloud of girls. + +'Not the house, maids,' she cried, 'the yew-trees first! I see my +Margaret waiting there. Your news, how marvellous soever, must wait +until I have greeted my right-hand daughter and learned how she +fares.' + +'How art thou, dear Heart?' she enquired, as she stooped down and +kissed her eldest daughter, and sat down beside her. 'Hath thy knee +pained thee a little less this afternoon?' + +'Much less,' answered Margaret gaily, 'in fact I had almost forgotten +it, and was about to rise and welcome you with the rest, when a sudden +ache reminded me that I must not run yet awhile.' + +Mistress Fell shook her head. 'I fear that I shall have to take thee +to London and to Wapping for the waters some day. I cannot have my +bird unable to fly like the rest of the brood, and obliged to wait +behind with a clipped wing.' + +'Young Margrett,' as she was called, to distinguish her from her +mother, laughed aloud. 'Nay now, sweet mother, 'tis nothing,' she +replied. 'Let us think of more cheerful things. In truth we have much +to tell you, for we have had an afternoon of visitors and many +happenings in thy absence.' + +'Visitors?' A slight furrow showed itself in the elder Margaret's +smooth forehead. 'Well, that is not strange, since the door of +Swarthmoor stands ever open to welcome guests, as all the country +knows. Still I would that I had been at home, or thy father. Who were +the visitors, daughter?' + +It was Bridget who answered. + +'My father hath often said that there has been scarce a day without a +visitor at Swarthmoor since he first brought you here as its +mistress,' she began primly, 'but in all these years, mother, I doubt +you have never set eyes on such an one as our guest of to-day. Priest +Lampitt said the same.' + +'Priest Lampitt? Hath he been here? And I not at home. Truly, it +grieves me, children, to have missed our good neighbour. Did he then +bring a stranger with him?' + +'No, No, No,' a chorus of dissent broke from the girls, all now seated +round their mother on the grass, each eager to be the first to tell +the tale, yet at a loss for words. Bridget, as usual, stepped into the +gap. She explained that 'the Priest had been amazed to find the +Stranger here. They had had much discourse. Till at last, Priest +Lampitt, waxing hot and fiery ere he departed, strode down the flagged +path slashing all the flowers with his cane and never seemed to know +what he was doing, though you know, mother, that he loves our garden.' + +A shade of real annoyance crossed Mistress Fell's face. 'The good +Priest angered in my house,' she said, with real concern in her voice, +'and I not there, but only a pack of giddy maids, who had not wit +enough between them to keep a discourteous stranger in his place and +prevent his being rude to an old friend! Nay, now, maidens, speak not +all together. Ye are too young and do but babble. Let Bridget +continue, or my Margaret. Either of them I can trust.' But 'young +Margrett' was bending her head still lower, seemingly over her daisy +chain. + +'Truly, mother,' she said in a low voice close to her mother's ear, +'there are no words for him. He is so--different; I knew not that +earth held a man like him. And he will be coming back shortly to the +house--maybe he is already awaiting you!' + +Mistress Fell looked up now in undisguised alarm. Who was this +nameless Stranger who had invaded her house during her absence, and +had apparently stolen the heart of her discreet and dignified +Margaret, in one interview, by the mere sight of his charms? Young, +handsome, quarrelsome; who could he be? What had brought him to +Swarthmoor to destroy its peace? + +She turned to capable Bridget for information. Bridget, never at a +loss, understood her mother's fears, or some of them, and immediately +answered reassuringly, 'Be not disquieted, sweet mother. Nothing +really untoward has happened. It is true the Stranger disputed hotly +with Lampitt, but it was the Priest's blame as much as the Stranger's +at first, though afterwards, when Lampitt held out his hand and wished +to be friendly, the Stranger turned from him and shook him off. Yet, +though his actions were harsh there was gentleness in his face and +bearing. He is a man of goodly presence, this Stranger, but quite, +quite old, thirty or thereabouts by my guessing.' + +The elder Margaret smiled. Bridget continued hastily: 'Or may be more. +Any way he seemed older from his gravity, and from his outlandish +dress. Under his coat could be seen a leather doublet and breeches, +and on his head he wore a large, soft, white hat.' + +At these words the concern in Mistress Fell's face disappeared in a +moment. A quick look of welcome sprang into her eyes. + +'A man in a white hat!' she exclaimed. 'Perhaps, then, his coming +forbodes good to us after all. It was only the other night that, as I +lay a-dreaming, I saw a man in a large white hat coming towards me. I +had been seeking for guidance on my knees, for often I fear we are not +wholly in the right way, with all our seeking and religious exercises. +In answer to my prayer there came towards me, in my dream, a man, and +I knew that he was to be the messenger of God to me and to all my +household. Tell me more, maidens, of this Stranger, how he came and +whence, and why he left and when he will return.' + +This time it was 'young Margrett' who answered. Seeing the sympathy in +her Mother's eyes, she found her voice at last, and rejoined quickly: + +'He resembleth a Priest somewhat, yet not altogether. He speaketh with +more authority than anyone I ever heard. Grave he is too. Grave as my +father when he is executing justice. Yet, for all his gravity, as +Bridget says, he is wondrous gentle. None of us were affrighted at +him, and the little maids ran to him as they do to my father. +Moreover, he showed them a curious seal he carried in his pocket with +letters intertwined among roses, a "G" I saw, and an "F." Afterwards +he took them on his knees and blessed them and they were wholly at +ease. Priest Lampitt, who had been watching through a window, his +countenance strangely altered by his rage, now took his departure. +Seeing him go, the Stranger put down the children gently, setting +Susanna with both her feet squarely on the polished floor, as I have +seen a shepherd set down a lamb, as if afeared that it might slip. +Then he turned in sorrow and spoke a few words to his companion. This +was the man who brought him hither, one of the Seekers from +Wensleydale or thereabouts, I should judge from his language; but +truly none of us paid much heed to him. The two of them left the Hall +together, and passed down through the herb-garden, and over the +stream. Once I noticed the Stranger turn and gaze back at the house, +searching each window, as if looking for something he found not +there. Also he smiled at sight of the yew-trees, with a greeting as if +they were old friends. Bridget declares that she heard the Stranger, +our Stranger, say that he would return hither shortly, when he had set +his companion a short distance on his homeward way. But that is now +more than two hours agone, and as yet he hath not reappeared.' + +'Well then, maids,' replied Mistress Fell briskly, 'let us not linger +here. It is high time we went back to the house to welcome our guest, +on his return.' So saying, she rose to her feet, and aiding 'young +Margrett' with one hand, she drew aside with the other the thick +screen of the branches. A ray of sunshine fell upon Margaret Fell, +standing there, in the velvety gloom of the old yew-trees, with her +six young daughters round her. Sunshine was in her heart too, as she +looked down fondly at them for a moment. + +Then, lifting up her eyes, she recognised the unknown man she had seen +in her dream. In the full blaze of sunlight, coming straight up the +flagged path towards her was a Stranger, wearing a white hat. And thus +did Mistress Margaret Fell behold for the first time GEORGE FOX. + +[Illustration] + + + + +X. 'BEWITCHED!' + + + + + _'When ye do judge of matters, or + when ye do judge of words, or when + ye do judge of persons, all these + are distinct things. A wise man + will not give both his ears to one + party but reserve one for the + other party, and will hear both, + and then judge.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'And after I came to one Captain + Sands, which he and his wife if + they could have had the world and + truth they would have received it. + But they was hypocrites and he a + very light chaffy man, and the way + was too strait for him.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'James the First was crazed + beyond his English subjects with + the witch mania of Scotland and + the Continent. No sooner had his + first parliament enacted new death + laws than the judges and the + magistrates, the constable and the + mob began to hunt up the oldest + and ugliest spinster who lived + with her geese on the common, or + tottered about the village street. + Many pleaded guilty, and described + the covenants they had formed with + black dogs and "goblins called + Tibb"; others were beaten or + terrified into fictitious + confessions, or perished, denying + their guilt to the last. The black + business culminated during the + Civil Wars when scores of women + were put to death.'--G.M. + TREVELYAN._ + + + + +X. 'BEWITCHED!' + + +Saint Swithin's feast was passed. It was a sultry, thundery afternoon +of mid July, when three horsemen were to be seen carefully picking +their way across the wide wet estuary of the River Leven that goes by +the name of 'the Sands.' The foremost rider was evidently the most +important person of the three. He was an oldish man with a careworn +face, and deepset eyes occasionally lighted by a smile, as he urged +his weary horse across the sand. This was no less a person than Judge +Fell himself, the master of Swarthmoor Hall, attended by his clerk and +his groom, and returning to his home after a lengthy absence on +circuit. A man of wide learning, of sound knowledge of affairs, and +gifted with an excellent judgment was Thomas Fell. He was as popular +now, in the autumn of his days among his country neighbours, as he had +been in former times in Parliament, and among the Puritan leaders. +Thrice had he represented his native county in the House of Commons, +and had been a trusted friend of Oliver Cromwell himself. It was only +latterly, men said, since Oliver showed a disposition to grasp more +and ever more power for himself that the good Judge, unable to prevent +that of which he disapproved, had retired from the intricate problems +and difficulties of the Capital. He now filled the office of Judge on +the Welsh Circuit and later on that of Vice-Chancellor of the Duchy of +Lancaster. But whether he dwelt in the country or in London town it +was all one. Wherever he came, men thought highly of him.[10] The +good thirsted for his approval. The bad trembled to meet his eye. Yet, +it was noted, that even when he was obliged to sentence some poor +wretch, he seemed to commiserate him, and he ever sought to throw the +weight of his influence on the side of mercy, although no man could be +sterner at times, especially when he dealt with a case of treachery or +cold-blooded cruelty. + +The lines of his countenance were rugged, yet underneath there was +always an expression of goodwill, and a kindly light in his eyes that +seemed to come from some still quiet fount of happiness within. It was +said of the Judge, and truly, that he had the happiest home, the +fairest and wisest wife, and the goodliest young family, of any man in +the county. That had been a joyful day, indeed, for him, twenty years +before, when he brought the golden-haired Margaret Askew, the heiress +of Marsh Grange, as his bride to the old grey Hall of Swarthmoor. +Sixteen full years younger than her husband was she, yet a wondrous +wise-hearted woman, and his companion in all things. + +Now that a son and six fair daughters filled the old Hall with music +and gay laughter all day long, the Judge might well be no less proud +of his 'great family' than even of having been Oliver Cromwell's +friend. + +He was ever loath to leave that cherished home for his long absences +on the Chester and North Welsh Circuit, and ever joyful when the day +came that he might return thither. Even the heavy sand that clogged +his horse's feet could hardly make him check his pace. The sands of +Morecambe Bay are perilous at times, especially to strangers, for the +tide flows in with such swiftness that even a galloping horse may not +escape it. But the Judge and his companions knew the dangers well +enough to avoid them. Their trained eyes instinctively marked the +slight depressions in the sand and the line of brogs, or half-hidden +trees, that guide travellers across by what is really the safest +route, although it may seem to take unnecessary loops and curves.[11] +At a little distance lay the lonely Chapel Island, surrounded by the +sea even at low tide, where in olden days lived a community of monks, +who tolled a bell to guide pilgrims across the shifting sands, or said +masses for the souls of those who perished. + +As his horse picked its way carefully, the Judge raised his eyes often +towards the high plateau on the horizon to which he was steadily +drawing nearer with every tedious step. Beloved Swarthmoor! The house +itself was hidden, but he could plainly discern the belt of trees in +which it stood. He thought of each of the inmates of that hidden home. +George, his only son, how straight and tall he was growing, how +gallant a rider, and how skilful a sportsman even now, though hasty in +temper and over apt to take offence. His gay maidens, were they at +this moment singing over some new madrigal prepared to greet him on +his return? In an hour or two he should see them all running down the +garden path to welcome him, from stately 'young Margrett' to little +toddling Susanna. His wife, his own Margaret, well he knew where she +would be! watching for him from the lattice of their chamber, where +she was ever the first to catch sight of him on his return, as she +had been the last to bid him farewell on his departure. + +At this point the good Judge's meditations were suddenly interrupted +by his groom, who, spurring his horse on a level with his Master's, +pointed respectfully, with upraised whip, towards several moving +specks that were hastening across the estuary. + +The softest bit of sand was over now, the travellers were reaching +firmer ground, where it was possible to go at a quicker pace. Setting +spurs to his horse the Judge hastened forward, his face flushing with +an anxiety he took no pains to conceal. + +In those days, when posts were rare and letters difficult to get or to +send, an absence of many weeks always meant the possibility of finding +bad news at home on the return from a journey. + +'Heaven send they bring me no ill tidings!' Judge Fell said to himself +as he cantered anxiously forward. Before long, it was possible to make +out that the moving specks were a little company of horsemen galloping +towards them over the sands. A few minutes later the Judge was +surrounded by a group of breathless riders and panting horses, with +bits and bridles flecked with foam. + +The Judge's fears increased as he recognised all his most important +neighbours. Their excited faces also struck him with dread. 'You bring +me bad news?' he had called out, as soon as the cavalcade came within +earshot. At the answering shout, 'Aye, the worst,' his heart had sunk +like lead. And now here he was actually in their midst, and not one of +them could speak. 'Out with it, friends,' he commanded, 'let me know +the worst. To whom hath evil happened? To my wife? My son? My +daughters?' + +But even he was hardly prepared for the answer, low-breathed and +muttering like a roll of thunder: 'To all.' + +'To all!' cried the agonised father. 'Impossible! They cannot all be +dead!' Again came the ominous rejoinder, 'Worse, far worse,' and then, +in a shout from half-a-dozen throats at once, 'Far, far worse. They +are all bewitched!' Bewitched! that was indeed a word of ill-omen in +those days, a word at which no man, be his position ever so exalted, +could afford to smile. Ever since the days of the first Parliament of +the first Stuart king, the penalties for the sin of witchcraft had +been made increasingly severe. Although the country was now settling +down into an uneasy peace, after the turmoil of the Civil Wars, still +its witch hunts were even yet too recent a memory for a devoted +husband and father to hear the fatal accusation breathed against his +family without dismay. Not all a woman's youth and beauty might always +save her, if the hunt were keen. The Judge's lips were tightly pressed +together, but his unmoved countenance showed little of his inward +alarm as he gazed on the faces round him. His courteous neighbours, +who had ridden in such haste with the 'ill news' that 'travels fast,' +which of them all should enlighten him? His neighbour Captain Sands? a +jovial good-humoured man truly;--no, not he, he could not enter into a +husband and father's deep anxiety, seeing that he was ever of a +mocking disposition inwardly for all that he looked sober and scared +enough now. His brother Justice, John Sawrey? Instinctively Judge Fell +recoiled from the thought. Sawrey's countenance might be sober enough +in good sooth, seeing he was a leader among professing Puritans, but +somehow Judge Fell had always mistrusted the pompous little man. Even +bad news would be worsened if he had to hear it from those lips. +Therefore it was with considerable relief that the good Judge caught +sight of a well-known figure riding up more slowly than the others, +and now hovering on the outskirts of the group. 'The very man! My +honoured neighbour Priest Lampitt! You, the Priest of Ulverston, will +surely tell me what has befallen the members of my household, who are +likewise members of your flock?' + +But the Priest's face was even gloomier than that of the other +gentlemen. In the fewest possible words, but with stinging emphasis, +he told the Judge that the news was indeed too true; his wife and +young family, yea, and even the household servants had, one and all, +been bewitched. + +At this the Judge thought his wisest course was to laugh. 'Nay, nay, +good friends,' he said, 'that is too much! I know my wife. I trust her +good sense utterly. Still it is possible for even the wisest of women +to lose her judgment at times. But as for my trusty steward Thomas +Salthouse, the steadiest man I have ever had in my employ, if even old +Nick himself has managed to bewitch him, he must be a cleverer devil +than I thought.' + +Then drawing himself up proudly he added, 'So now, Gentlemen, I will +thank you to submit to me your evidence for these incredible and +baseless allegations.' Priest Lampitt hastened to explain. He spoke +with due respect of Mistress Fell, his 'honoured neighbour,' as he +called her. ''Tis her well-known kindness of heart that hath led her +astray. She hath warmed a snake in her bosom, a wandering Quaker +Preacher, who hath beguiled and corrupted both herself and her +household.' + +'A wandering, Ranting Quaker entertained in my house, during my +absence!' Judge Fell had an even temper, but the rising flush on his +forehead betokened the effort with which he kept his anger under +control. 'I thank ye, gentles, for your news. My wife and I have ever +right gladly given food and lodging to all true servants of the Lord, +but I will not have any Quakers or Ranters creeping into my house +during my absence and nesting there, to set abroad such tales as ye +have hastened to spread before me this day. Even the wisest woman is +but a woman still, and the sooner I reach home the better.' So saying +he raised his hat, and set spurs to his horse. But little Mr. Justice +Sawrey, edging out of the group officiously, set spurs to his own +horse and trotted after him. Laying a restraining hand on his fellow +Justice's bridle, 'One moment more!' he entreated. ''Tis best you +should know all ere you return. Not only at Swarthmoor, at Ulverston +church also, hath this pestilential fellow caused a disturbance. It +was on the Saturday that he arrived at Swarthmoor Hall, and violently +brawled with our good Friend Lampitt during Mistress Fell's absence +from home.' + +A shade of relief crossed the Judge's face, 'My wife absent! I might +have sworn to it. The maidens are too young to have sober judgment.' +'Nay, but listen,' continued Sawrey, 'the day after he came to the +Hall was not only the Sabbath but also a day of public humiliation. +Our good Priest Lampitt, seeing Mistress Fell surrounded by her family +in the pew at church, trusted, as did we all, that she had sent the +fellow packing speedily about his business. Alack! no such thing, he +was but prowling outside. No sooner did the congregation sing a hymn +than in he came, and boldly standing on a form, asked leave to speak. +Our worthy Priest, the soul of courtesy, consented. Then, oh! the +tedious discourse that fell on our ears, how that the hymn we had sung +was entirely unsuited to our condition, with much talk of Moses and of +John, and I know not what besides, ending up in no less a place than +the Paradise of God! Naturally, none of us, gentles, paid much +attention. I crossed my legs and tried to sleep until the wearisome +business should be ended. When, to my dismay, I was aroused by our +honoured neighbour Mistress Fell standing upright on the seat of her +pew, shrieking with a loud voice: "We are all thieves, we are all +thieves!" This was after the Ranter had finished. While he was yet +speaking, she continued to gaze on him, so says my wife, as if she +were drinking in every word. But afterwards, having loosed this +exclamation about thieves (and she a Justice's wife, forsooth!) she +sat down in her pew once more and began to weep bitterly.' + +'Yes,' interrupted Lampitt, who had also come alongside by this time, +'and he continued to pour forth foul speeches, how that God was come +to teach His people by His own spirit, and to bring them off from all +their old ways and religions and churches and worships, for that they +were all out of the life and spirit, that they was in that gave them +forth.... And so on, until our good friend here,' indicating Sawrey, +'being a Justice of the Peace, called out to the churchwardens, "Take +him away, take the fellow away." Whereat Mistress Fell must needs rise +up again and say to the officers, "Why may he not speak as well as +any other? Let him alone!" And I, willing to humour her----' + +'Yes, more fool you,' interrupted Sawrey rudely, 'you must needs echo +her, and cry, "Let him alone!" else had I safely and securely clapped +him into the stocks.' + +Judge Fell, who had listened with obviously growing impatience, now +broke away from his vociferous companions. Crying once more, 'I thank +you, Sirs, for your well-meant courtesy, but now I pray you to excuse +me and allow me to hasten to my home,' he broke away from the +restraining hands laid upon his bridle and galloped over the sands. +His attendants, who had been waiting at a little distance just out of +earshot, eagerly joined him, and the three figures gradually grew +smaller and then disappeared into the distance. + +The other group of riders departed on their different ways homewards, +well satisfied with their day's work. Not without a parting shot from +fat Captain Sands as they separated. Raising his whip he said +mockingly as he pointed at the Judge's figure riding away in urgent +haste: 'Let us hope he may not find the Fox too Foxy when he expels +him from his earth!' + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[10] 'Being beloved,' the historian says, 'for his justice, wisdom, +moderation, and mercy.' + +[11] 'The sands are left uncovered at low water to a great extent; and +travellers between Lancaster and Furness had formerly to cross from +Hest Bank to Ulverston by the route _brogged_ out by the guides; the +brogs being branches of trees stuck in the sand to mark where the +treacherous way was safest; a dreary distance of about 14 +miles.'--Richardson, _Furness_, i. 14. + + + + +XI. THE JUDGE'S RETURN + + + + + _'The Cross being minded it makes + a separation from all other + lovers, and brings to God.'--G. + FOX._ + + + _'Give up to be crossed;_ that _is + the way to please the Lord and to + follow Him in His own will and + way, whose way is the best.'--M. + FELL._ + + + _'Now here was a time of waiting, + here is a time of receiving, here + is a time of speaking; the Holy + Ghost fell upon them, that they + spoke the wonderful things of + God.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'Mind and consider well the + spirit of Christ in you, that's he + that's lowly in you, that's just + and lowly in you: mind this Spirit + in you, and then whither will you + run, and forsake the Lord of Life? + Will you leave Christ the fountain + which should spring in you and + hunt for yourselves? Should you + not abide within, and drink of + that which springs freely, and + feed on that which is pure, meek + and lowly in spirit, that so you + might grow spiritual men into the + same Spirit, to be as He is, the + sheep of His Pasture? For as is + your pasture, so are you + filled.... And you shall say no + more, I am weak and can do + nothing, but all things through + him who gives you + strength.'--JAMES NAYLER._ + + + + +XI. THE JUDGE'S RETURN + + +Not one of the six maidens ever remembered a home-coming over-clouded +as was Judge Fell's on that thundery afternoon of late July. Sadder, +darker days lay before them in the years to follow, but none more +filled with unacknowledged dread. Was this sad, stern-looking man, who +dismounted wearily from his horse at the high arched gate, really +their indulgent father? He scarcely noticed or spoke to them, as he +tramped heavily towards the house. 'He did not even raise an eye +towards the window where my mother sits, as she hath ever sat, to +welcome him,' young Margrett noticed. The thunder rumbled ominously +overhead. The first big drops fell from the gloomy clouds that had +been gathering for hours; while upstairs, in her panelled chamber, a +big tear splashed on the delicate cambric needlework that lay between +the elder Margaret's fingers, before she laid it aside and descended +the shallow, oaken stairs to greet her husband. + +Margaret Fell looked older and sadder than on the afternoon under the +yew-trees, only three weeks before. There was a new shade of care on +her smooth forehead: yet there was a soft radiance about her that was +also new. Even her voice had gentler tones. She looked as if she had +reached a haven, like a stately ship that, after long tossing in the +waves, now feels itself safely anchored and at rest. + +Happily she has left an account of the Judge's return in her own +words, words as fresh and vivid as if they had been written but +yesterday, instead of more than two hundred and fifty years ago. We +will take up her narrative at the point in Ulverston church at which +Judge Fell broke away from Mr. Justice Sawrey when he was telling him +the same tale from his point of view, on the glistening sands of the +estuary of the Leven. + +'And there was one John Sawrey,' writes Mistress Fell, 'a Justice of +Peace and professor, that bid the church warden take him [George Fox] +away, and he laid hands on him several times, and took them off again, +and let him alone; and then after awhile he gave over and he [G.F.] +came to our house again that night. He spoke in the family amongst the +servants, and they were all generally convinced; as William Caton, +Thomas Salthouse, Mary Askew, Anne Clayton, and several other +servants. And I was struck into such a sadness, I knew not what to do, +my husband being from home. I saw it was the truth, and I could not +deny it; and I did as the Apostle saith, "I received truth in the love +of it;" and it was opened to me so clear, that I had never a tittle in +my heart against it; but I desired the Lord that I might be kept in +it, and then I desired no greater portion.' + +'He went on to Dalton, Aldingham, Dendron and Ramside chapels and +steeple-houses, and several places up and down, and the people +followed him mightily; and abundance were convinced and saw that that +which he spoke was the truth, but the priests were in a rage. And +about two weeks after James Nayler and Richard Farnsworth followed him +and enquired him out, till they came to Swarthmoor, and there stayed +awhile with me at our house, and did me much good; for I was under +great heaviness and judgment. But the power of the Lord entered upon +me within about two weeks that he came, and about three weeks end my +husband came home; and many were in a mighty rage, and a deal of the +captains and great ones of the country went to meet my then husband as +he was coming home, and informed him "that a great disaster was +befallen amongst his family, and that they were witches; and that they +had taken us away out of our religion; and that he must either set +them away, or all the country would be undone."' + +'So my husband came home, greatly offended; and any may think what a +condition I was like to be in, that either I must displease my husband +or offend God; for he was very much troubled with us all in the house +and family, they had so prepossessed him against us. But James Nayler +and Richard Farnsworth were both then at our house, and I desired them +both to come and speak to him, and so they did very moderately and +wisely; but he was at first displeased with them until they told him +"they came in love and goodwill to his house." And after that he had +heard them speak awhile, he was better satisfied, and they offered as +if they would go away; but I desired them to stay and not go away yet, +for George Fox will come this evening. And I would have had my husband +to have heard them all, and satisfied himself further about them, +because they [_i.e._ the neighbours] had so prepossessed him against +them of such dangerous fearful things in his first coming home. And +then he was pretty moderate and quiet, and his dinner being ready he +went to it, and I went in, and sate me down by him. And whilst I was +sitting, the power of the Lord seized upon me, and he was struck with +amazement, and knew not what to think; but was quiet and still. And +the children were all quiet and still, and grown sober, and could not +play on their musick that they were learning; and all these things +made him quiet and still.' + +'At night George Fox came: and after supper my husband was sitting in +the parlour, and I asked him, "if George Fox might come in?" And he +said, "Yes." So George came in without any compliment, and walked into +the room, and began to speak presently; and the family, and James +Nayler, and Richard Farnsworth came all in; and he spoke very +excellently as ever I heard him, and opened Christ's and the apostles' +practices, which they were in, in their day. And he opened the night +of apostacy since the apostles' days, and laid open the priests and +their practices in the apostacy that if all England had been there, I +thought they could not have denied the truth of these things. And so +my husband came to see clearly the truth of what he spoke, and was +very quiet that night, said no more and went to bed. The next morning +came Lampitt, priest of Ulverston, and got my husband in the garden, +and spoke much to him there, but my husband had seen so much the night +before, that the priest got little entrance upon him.... After awhile +the priest went away; this was on the sixth day of the week, about the +fifth month (July) 1652. And at our house divers Friends were speaking +to one another, how there were several convinced hereaways and we +could not tell where to get a meeting: my husband being also present, +he overheard and said of his own accord, "You may meet here, if you +will:" and that was the first meeting that we had that he offered of +his own accord. And then notice was given that day and the next to +Friends, and there was a good large meeting the first day, which was +the first meeting that was at Swarthmoor, and so continued there a +meeting from 1652 till 1690 [when the present Meeting-house, given by +George Fox, was built]. And my husband went that day to the +steeple-house, and none with him but his clerk and his groom that rid +with him; and the priest and the people were all fearfully troubled; +but praised be the Lord, they never got their wills upon us to this +day.' + +George Fox in his Journal also records his first eventful interview +with Judge Fell as follows: + + 'I found that the priests and professors and Justice Sawrey had + much incensed Judge Fell against the truth with their lies; but + when I came to speak with him I answered all his objections, and + so thoroughly satisfied him by the scriptures that he was + convinced in his judgment. He asked me "if I was that George Fox + whom Justice Robinson spoke so much in commendation of among + many of the parliament men?" I told him I had been with Justice + Robinson and Justice Hotham, in Yorkshire, who were very civil + and loving to me. After we had discoursed a pretty while + together, Judge Fell himself was satisfied also, and came to + see, by the openings of the spirit of God in his heart, over all + the priests and teachers of the world, and did not go to hear + them for some years before he died. He sometimes wished I was + awhile with Judge Bradshaw to discourse with him.' + +This was Judge Bradshaw the regicide, and, coming as it did from such +a friend of Cromwell's as Judge Fell, the remark was probably a high +compliment. + +The following year, 1653, George Fox came again to Swarthmoor, where +he says he had 'great openings from the Lord, not only of divine and +spiritual matters, but also of outward things relating to the civil +government. Being one day in Swarthmoor Hall when Judge Fell and +Justice Benson were talking of the news in the newsbook, and of the +Parliament then sitting, (called the long Parliament) I was moved to +tell them, "before that day two weeks the Parliament should be broken +up, and the speaker plucked out of his chair"; and that day two weeks +Justice Benson told Judge Fell that now he saw that George was a true +prophet, for Oliver had broken up the parliament.' Although Judge Fell +never actually joined Friends he was their constant protector and +helper, and, in the words of Fox, 'A wall to the believers.' If he did +not himself attend the meetings in the great Hall at Swarthmoor, he +was wont to leave the door open as he sat in his Justice's chair in +his little oak-panelled study close at hand, and thus hear all that +was said, himself unseen. How entirely his wife had regained his +confidence, and how entirely Lampitt and Sawrey had failed to poison +his mind against her or her new teacher, is shown by the following +letter written about this time, when the Judge was away on one of his +frequent absences. It is the only letter to Judge Fell from his wife +that has been preserved, but it is ample assurance that no shadow had +dimmed the unclouded love of this devoted husband and wife. + + 'Dear Husband,' Margaret writes, 'My dear love and tender + desires to the Lord run forth for thee. I have received a letter + this day from you, and am very glad that the Lord carried you on + your journey so prosperously.... Dear Heart, mind the Lord + above all, with whom is no variableness nor shadow of turning, + and who will overturn all powers that stand before Him.... We + sent to my dear brother James Nayler and he is kept very close + and cannot be suffered to have any fire. He is not free to eat + of the jailor's meat, so they eat very little but bread and + water. He writ to us that they are plotting again to get more + false witnesses to swear against him things that he never spoke. + I sent him 2 lb., but he took but 5 [shillings?]. They are + mighty violent in Westmorland and all parts everywhere towards + us. They bid 5 lb. to any man that will take George anywhere + that they can find him within Westmorland.... The children are + all in health, praised be the Lord. George is not with us now, + but he remembered his dear love to thee.... + + 'Thy dutiful wife till death, + MARGARET FELL.' + + 'Swarthmoor, Feb. 18, 1653.' + + +But whether Margaret Fell ever entirely forgave Justice Sawrey for the +part he had played in trying to alienate her husband from her, is, to +say the least, doubtful. Anyhow, later on she wrote of him as 'a +catterpillar which shall be swept out of the way.' And 'swept out of +the way' he eventually was, some years later, when it is recorded that +'he was drowned in a puddle upon the road coming from York.' But he +was to have time and opportunity to do much harm to Friends, and +especially to George Fox, before that happened, as the next two +stories will show. + + + + +XII. 'STRIKE AGAIN!' + + + + + _'Ulverston consisted of thatched + one storied houses, many old + shops, gabled buildings standing + out towards the street on pillars + beneath which neighbours sheltered + and gossipped. On market days + these projections were filled with + goods to tempt gentry and yeomanry + to open their purse-strings.'--From + 'Home Life in North Lonsdale.'_ + + + _'By the year 1654 "the man with + the leather breeches" as he was + called, had become a celebrity + throughout England, with scattered + converts and adherents everywhere, + but voted a pest and a terror by + the public authorities, the + regular steeple-house clergy, + whether Presbyterian or + Independent, and the appointed + preachers of all the old + sects.'--D. MASSON._ + + + _'For in those days the high and + proud professors and persecutors + were generally bitterly set + against the people called Quakers, + when Presbytery and Independency + swimmed and floated in possession, + and with their long Lectures + against us cried out, "These are + the Antichrists come in the last + times"'--G. WHITEHEAD._ + + + _'For in all things he acquitted + himself like a man, yea, a strong + man, a new and heavenly-minded + man.'--W. PENN of George Fox._ + + + + +XII. 'STRIKE AGAIN!' + + 'Love, Wisdom, and Patience will overcome all that is not of + God.'--G. FOX. + + +By the side of even a low mountain the tallest tower looks small. The +fells that shelter the old market town of Ulverston from northerly +winds are not lofty compared with the range of giants that lies behind +them in the distance, Coniston Old Man, Sca Fell, Skiddaw, Helvellyn, +and their brethren. But the fells are high enough to make the tall old +Church tower of Ulverston look small and toy-like as it rises under +their shadow above the thatched roofs of the old town. + +Swarthmoor Hall stands on a level plateau on the other side of +Ulverston; and it was from Swarthmoor Hall, through a wooded glen by +the side of the stream, that George Fox came down to Ulverston Church, +one 'Lecture Day' at the end of September 1652. + +On a 'Lecture Day' a sermon lasting for several hours was delivered by +an appointed teacher; and when that was finished, anyone who had +listened to it was free to rise and deliver a message in his turn if +he wished to do so. In those days, as there were no clocks or watches +in churches, the length of the sermon was measured by turning an +hour-glass, until all the sand had run out, a certain number of times. +Children, and perhaps grown-up people too, must often have watched the +sand with longing eyes when a sermon of several hours' length was in +process. On this particular day, Priest Lampitt was the appointed +preacher. Lampitt had never forgiven Fox for having persuaded so many +of his hearers, and especially the important ladies of Swarthmoor, to +forsake their Parish Church, and assemble for their own service at +home. His feelings may be imagined, therefore, when, his own sermon +ended, he saw George Fox get up and begin to preach in his turn. + +George Fox says, 'On a Lecture Day I was moved to go to Ulverston +steeple-house, where there was an abundance of professors and +priests,[12] and people. And I went up near to Lampitt who was +blustering on in his preaching, and the Lord opened my mouth to +speak.' + +Now among the 'abundance of people' who were present in the Church was +that same Mr. Justice Sawrey, 'the Catterpillar,' of whom the last two +stories tell. As soon as George Fox opened his mouth and began to +preach, up bustled the Justice to him, with a patronising air, and +said, 'Now, my good fellow, you may have my permission to speak in +this Church, so long as you speak according to the Scriptures.' + +Like lightning, George Fox turned round on the high step where he was +standing near to Priest Lampitt, and saw at his elbow the little +pompous Justice, his face flushed, full of fussiness about his own +dignity and anxious to arrange everything according to his own ideas. + +George Fox, who felt he had a message from God to deliver, had no +intention of being interrupted by any man in this way. + +'I stranged at him,' says Fox, 'for speaking so to me!' + +'Stranged' is an unfamiliar word, no longer used in modern English. It +sounds as if it meant something very fierce, and calls up a picture of +George Fox glaring at his antagonist or trying to shout him down. In +reality it only means that Fox was astonished at his strange +behaviour. + +'I stranged at him and told him that I would speak according to the +Scriptures, and bring the Scriptures to prove what I had to say, for I +had something to say to Lampitt and to them.' 'You shall do nothing of +the kind,' said Mr. Justice Sawrey, contradicting his own words of the +moment before, that Fox might speak so long as he spoke according to +the Scriptures. + +Fox paid no attention to this injunction, but went on calmly with his +sermon. At first the congregation listened quietly. But Fox had made a +new enemy and a powerful one. The little Justice would not be ignored +in this way. He whispered to one and another in the congregation, +'Don't listen to this fellow. Why should he air his notions in our +fine Church? Beat him! Stop his mouth! Duck him in the pond! Teach him +that the men of Ulverston are sensible fellows, and not to be led +astray by a ranting Quaker!' + +These suggestions had their effect. Possibly the congregation agreed +with the speaker. Possibly also, they knew that the little Justice, +though short of stature, was of long memory and an ill man to offend. +Moreover, a magistrate's favour is a useful thing to have at all +times. Perhaps if they hunted Mr. Justice Sawrey's quarry for him in +the daytime, he would be more likely to turn a blind eye the next +moonlight night that they were minded to go out snaring other game, +with fur and feathers, in the Justice's own park! Anyhow, faces began +to grow threatening as the Quaker's discourse proceeded. Presently +loud voices were raised. Still the calm tones flowed on unheeding. At +length, clenched fists were raised; and, at the sight, the smile on +the Justice's face visibly broadened. Nodding his head emphatically, +he seemed to be saying, 'On, men, on!' till at length, like sparks +fanned by a bellows, the congregation's ill-humour suddenly burst into +a flame of rage. When at length rough hands fell upon the Quaker's +shoulders and set all his alchemy buttons a-jingling, Mr. Justice +Sawrey leaned against the back of his high wooden pew, crossed his +legs complacently, and laughed long and loud at the joke. The crowd +took this as a sign that they might do as they chose. They fell upon +Fox, knocked him down, and finally trampled upon him, under the +Justice's own eyes. The uproar became so great that the quieter +members of the congregation were terrified, 'and the people fell over +their seats for fear.' + +At length the Justice bethought himself that such behaviour as this in +a church was quite illegal, since a man had been sentenced, before +now, to lose his hand as a punishment for even striking his neighbour +within consecrated walls. He began to feel uneasily that even the +excellent sport of Quaker-baiting might be carried too far inside the +Church. He came forward, therefore, and without difficulty rescued +George Fox from the hands of his tormentors. But he had not finished +with the Quaker yet. Leading him outside the Church, he there +formally handed him over to the constables, saying, 'Take the fellow. +Thrash him soundly and turn him out of the town,' adding, perhaps, +under his breath, 'and teach him to behave with greater respect +hereafter to a Justice of the Peace!' + +George Fox describes in his own words what happened next. 'They led +me,' says the Journal, 'about a quarter of a mile, some taking hold of +my collar, and some by the arms and shoulders, and shook and dragged +me, and some got hedge-stakes and holme bushes and other staffs. And +many friendly people that was come to the market, and had come into +the steeple-house to hear me, many of them they knocked down and broke +their heads also, and the blood ran down several people so as I never +saw the like in my life, as I looked at them when they were dragging +me along. And Judge Fell's son, running after me to see what they +would do to me, they threw him into a ditch of water and cried, "Knock +the teeth out of his head!"' + +Once well away from the town, apparently, the constables were content +to let their prisoner go, knowing that they might trust their +fellow-townsmen to finish the job with right good will. The mob yelled +with joy to find their prey in their hands at last. With one accord +they fell upon Fox, and endeavoured to pull him down, much as, at the +huntsman's signal, a pack of hounds sets upon his four-footed namesake +with a bushy tail. The constables and officers, too, continued to +assist. Giving him some final blows with willow-rods they thrust Fox +'amid the rude multitude, and they then fell upon me as aforesaid with +their stakes and clubs and beat me on the head and arms and +shoulders, until at last,' their victim says, 'they mazed me, and I +fell down upon the wet common.' + +The crowd had won! George Fox was down at last! He lay, bruised and +fainting, on the wet moss of the common on the far side of the town. +Yes, there he lay for a few moments, stunned, bruised, bleeding, +beaten nigh to death. Only for a few moments, no longer. Very soon his +consciousness returned. Finding himself helpless on the watery common +with the savage mob glowering over him, he says, 'I lay a little still +without attempting to rise. Then suddenly the power of the Lord sprang +through me, and the eternal refreshings revived me, so that I stood up +again in the eternal power of God, and stretched out my arms among +them all and said with a loud voice: "Strike again! Here are my arms, +my head, my cheeks!"' + +Whatever would he do next? What sort of a man was this? The rough +fellows in the circle around him insensibly drew back a little, and +looked in each other's faces with surprise, as they tried to read the +riddle of this disconcerting behaviour. The Quaker would not show +fight! He was actually giving them leave to set upon him and beat him +again! All in a minute, what had hitherto seemed like rare sport began +to be rather poor fun. + +'There's no sense in thrashing a man who doesn't strike back! Better +leave the fellow alone!' some of the more decent-minded whispered to +each other in undertones, and then slunk away ashamed. Only one man, a +mason, well known as the bully of the town, knew no shame. + +'Strike again, sayest thou, Quaker?' he thundered. 'Hast had none but +soft blows hitherto? Faith then, I will strike in good earnest this +time.' So saying, the mason brought a thick wooden rule that he was +carrying down on the outstretched hand before him, with a savage blow +that might have felled an ox. After the first shock of agonising pain +George Fox lost all feeling from his finger-tips right up to his +shoulder. When he tried to draw the wounded hand back to his side he +could not do it. The paralysed nerves refused to carry the message of +the brain. + +'The mason hath made a good job of it this time,' jeered a mocking +voice from the crowd. 'The Quaker hath lost the use of his right hand +for ever.' For ever! Terrible words. George Fox was but a young man +still. Was he indeed to go through life maimed, without the use of his +right hand? The bravest man might have shrunk from such a prospect; +but George Fox did not shrink, because he did not happen to be +thinking of himself at all. His hand was not his own. Not it alone but +his whole body also had been given, long ago, to the service of his +Master. They belonged to Him. Therefore if that Master should need the +right hand of His servant to be used in His service, His Power could +be trusted to make it whole. + +Thus Fox trusted, and not in vain; since all the while, no thoughts of +vengeance or hatred to those who had injured him were able to find +even a moment's lodging in his heart. + +'So as the people cried out, "he hath spoiled his hand for ever having +any use of it more," I LOOKED AT IT IN THE LOVE OF GOD AND I WAS +IN THE LOVE OF GOD TO ALL THEM THAT HAD PERSECUTED ME. AND AFTER A +WHILE THE LORD'S POWER SPRANG THROUGH MY HAND AND ARM AND THROUGH ME, +THAT IN A MINUTE I RECOVERED MY HAND AND ARM AND STRENGTH IN THE FACE +AND SIGHT OF THEM ALL.' + +This miracle, as it seemed to them, overawed the rough mob for a +moment. But some of the greedier spirits saw a chance of making a good +thing out of the afternoon's work for themselves. They came to Fox and +said if he would give them some money they would defend him from the +others, and he should go free. But Fox would not hear of such a thing. +He 'was moved of the Lord to declare unto them the word of life, and +how they were more like Jews and heathens and not like Christians.' + +Thus, instead of thankfully slinking away and disappearing up the hill +by a by-path to the friendly shelter of Swarthmoor, Fox strode boldly +back into the centre of the town of Ulverston with his persecutors, +like a crowd of whipped dogs, following him at his heels. Yet still +they snarled and showed their teeth at times, as if to say, they would +have him yet if they dared. Right into Ulverston market-place he came, +and a stranger sight the old grey town, with its thatched roofs and +timbered houses, had surely never seen. In the middle of the +market-place the one other courageous man in the town came up to him. +This was a soldier, carrying a sword. + +'Sir,' said this gallant gentleman, as he met the bruised and bleeding +Quaker, 'I am ashamed that you, a stranger, should have been thus +ill-treated and abused, FOR YOU ARE A MAN, SIR,' said he. Fox nodded, +and a smile like wintry sunshine stole over his worn face. Silently he +held out his hand. The soldier grasped it. 'In truth, I am grieved,' +he repeated, 'grieved and ashamed that you should have been treated +like this at Ulverston. Gladly will I assist you myself as far as I +can against these cowards, who are not ashamed to set upon an unarmed +man, forty to one, and drag him down.' + +'No matter for that, Friend,' said Fox, 'they have no power to harm +me, for the Lord's power is over all.' With these words he turned and +crossed the crowded market-place again, on his way to leave the town, +and not one of the people dared to touch him. + +But, as everyone prefers both to be defended himself and to defend +others with those weapons in which he himself puts most trust, the +soldier very naturally followed Fox, in case 'the Lord's power' might +also need the assistance of his trusty sword. + +The mob, seeing Fox well protected, turned, like the cowards they +were, and fell upon the other 'friendly people' who were standing +defenceless in the market-place and beat them instead. Their meanness +enraged the soldier. Leaving Fox, he turned and ran upon the mob in +his turn, his naked rapier shining in his hand. + +'My trusty sword shall teach these cravens a lesson at last,' he +thought. Quick as he was, Fox was quicker. He, too, had turned at the +noise, and seeing his defender running at the crowd, and the sunshine +dancing down the steel blade as it gleamed in the air, he also ran, +and dashed up the soldier's weapon before it had time to descend. Then +taking firm hold of the man's right hand, sword and all, 'Thou must +put up thy sword, Friend,' he commanded, 'if thou wilt come along with +me.' Half sulkily, and wholly disappointed, the soldier, in spite of +himself, obeyed. But he insisted on accompanying Fox to the outskirts +of the town. 'You will be safe now, Sir,' he said, and sweeping his +plumed hat respectfully on the ground, as he bowed low to his new +friend, the two parted. + +Nevertheless, not many days thereafter this very gallant gentleman +paid for his chivalrous conduct. No less than seven men fell upon him +at once, and beat him cruelly 'for daring to take the Quaker's part.' +'For it was the custom of this country to run twenty or forty people +upon one man,' adds the Journal, with quiet scorn. 'And they fell so +upon Friends in many places, that they could hardly pass the high +ways, stoning and beating and breaking their heads.' + +But of the punishment in store for his defender, Fox was happily +ignorant that hot afternoon of the riot, as he followed the peaceful +brook through its sheltered glen, and so came up again at last, after +his rough handling, to friendly Swarthmoor, where young George Fell, +escaped from his persecutors and the miry ditch, had arrived before +him. 'And there they were, dressing the heads and hands of Friends and +friendly people that were broken that day by the professors and +hearers of Priest Lampitt,' writes Fox. + +'And my body and arms were yellow, black and blue with the blows and +bruises I received among them that day.' + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[12] Remember always that by 'priest' George Fox only means a man of +any form of religion who was paid for preaching. Lampitt was probably +an Independent. 'Professors,' as we have already seen, are the people +usually called 'Puritans, who 'professed' or made a great show of +being very religious.' + + + + +XIII. MAGNANIMITY + + + + + _'Magnanimity ... includes all + that belongs to a great soul. A + high and mighty Courage, an + invincible Patience, an immovable + Grandeur; which is above the reach + of Injuries; a high and lofty + Spirit allayed with the sweetness + of Courtesy and Respect: a deep + and stable Resolution founded on + Humilitie without any Baseness ... + a generous confidence, and a great + inclination to Heroical deeds; all + these conspire to compleat it, + with a severe and mighty + expectation of Bliss + incomprehensible...._ + + _'A magnanimous soul is always + awake. The whole globe of the Earth + is but a nutshell in comparison + with its enjoyments. The Sun is its + Lamp, the Sea its Fishpond, the + Stars its Jewels, Men, Angels, its + attendance, and God alone its + sovereign delight and supreme + complacency.... Nothing is great if + compared with a Magnanimous soul + but the Sovereign Lord of all the + Worlds.'--REV. THOMAS TRAHERNE (A + Contemporary of G. Fox)._ + + + _'They threw stones upon me that + were so great, that I did admire + they did not kill us; but so + mighty was the power of the Lord, + that they were as a nut or a bean + to my thinking.'--THOMAS BRIGGS, 1685._ + + + + +XIII. MAGNANIMITY + + +Beloved Swarthmoor! Dear home, where kind hearts abode, where gentle +faces and tender hands were ever ready to welcome and bind up the +wounds, both visible and invisible, of any persecuted guest in those +troubled times. Surely, after his terrible experiences on the day of +the riot at Ulverston, George Fox would yield to the entreaties of his +entertainers, and allow himself to be persuaded to rest in peace under +the shadow of the Swarthmoor yew-trees, until the bloodthirsty fury +against all who bore the name of Quaker, and against himself in +particular, should have somewhat lessened in the neighbourhood? Far +from it. To 'Flee from Storms' was never this strong man's way.[13] +Gentle reeds and delicate grasses may bow as the storm-wind rushes +over them. The sturdy oak-tree, with its tough roots grappling firmly +underground, stubbornly faces the blast. George Fox, 'ever Stiff as a +Tree,' by the admission even of his enemies, barely waited for his +'yellow, black and blue' bruises to disappear before he came forth +again to encounter his foes. Certain priests had however taken +advantage of this short enforced absence to 'put about a prophecy' +that he had disappeared for good, and 'that within a year all these +Quakers would be utterly put down.' Great, therefore, must have been +their chagrin to hear, only a short fortnight after the Lecture Day at +Ulverston, that the hated 'Man in Leather Breeches' was off once more +on his dangerous career. + +Fox's companion on this journey was that same James Nayler who had +followed him on his first visit to Swarthmoor, a few weeks previously. +Nayler was one of the most brilliantly gifted of all those early +comrades of George Fox, who were hereafter to earn the name of 'the +Valiant Sixty.' Clouds and sorrows were to separate the two friends in +years to come, but at this time they were united in heart and soul, +both alike given up to the joyful service of 'Publishing Truth.' The +object of their journey was to visit another recent convert, James +Lancaster by name, in his home on the Island of Walney that lies off +the Furness coast. + +On the way thither the travellers spent one night at a small town on +the mainland called Cockan. Here, as usual, they held a meeting with +the inhabitants of the place, in order to proclaim the message that +possessed them. Their words had already convinced one of their +hearers, and more converts to the Truth might have followed, when +suddenly, at a low window of the hall where they were assembled, a +man's figure appeared, threatening the audience with a loaded pistol +which he carried in his hand. As this pistol was pointed, first at one +and then at another of George Fox's listeners, all the terrified +people sprang to their feet and rushed through the doors of the hall +as fast as their legs could carry them. Their alarm was natural; +probably most, if not all of them, had seen fire-arms used in grim +earnest before this, for the period of the Civil Wars was too recent +to have faded from anyone's memory. + +'I am not after you, ye timid sheep,' shouted the man with the pistol +as the scared people fled past him. 'It is that Deceiver who is +leading you all astray that I have to do with. Come out and meet me, +George Fox,' he shouted, 'if you call yourself a Man.' + +There was no need to ask twice. 'Here I am, Friend,' answered a quiet +voice, as the well-known figure, in its wide white hat, long coat, +leather breeches and doublet, and girdle with alchemy buttons, +appeared standing in the doorway. Then, passing calmly through it, +George Fox drew up scarce three paces from his assailant--his body +making a large target at close range that it would be impossible to +miss. The frightened people paused in their flight to watch. Were they +going to see the Quaker slain? The stranger raised his pistol; he +aimed carefully. Not a muscle of Fox's countenance quivered. Not an +eyelash moved. The trigger snapped.... + +Nothing happened! The pistol did not go off. As if by a miracle the +Quaker was saved. + +Seeing this wonderful escape of their leader, some of the other men's +courage returned. They rushed back to assist him. They threw +themselves upon his assailant and wrenched the pistol from his hand, +vowing he should do no further mischief. Fox, seeing in his adversary, +not an enemy who had just sought his life, but a fellow-man with a +'Seed of God' hidden somewhere within him and therefore a possible +soul to be won, was 'moved in the Lord's power to speak to him; and he +was struck with the Lord's power' (small wonder!) 'so that he went and +hid himself in a cellar and trembled for fear. + +'And so the Lord's power came over them all, though there was a great +rage in the country.' + +The Journal continues (but it was written many years later, remember, +when the account of what had happened could not bring anyone into +trouble): 'And ye next morning I went over in a boat to James +Lancaster's, and as soon as I came to land there rushed out about +forty men, with staffs, clubs, and fishing-poles, and fell upon me +with them, beating, punching, and thrust me backwards into the sea. +And when they had thrust me almost into the sea, I stood up and went +into the middle of them again, but they all laid on me again and +knocked me down and mazed me. And when I was down and came to myself, +I looked up and saw James Lancaster's wife throwing stones at my face, +and her husband lying over me, to keep the stones and blows off me. +For the people had persuaded James's wife that I had bewitched her +husband, and had promised her that if she would let them know when I +came hither they would be my death. + +'So at last I got up in the power of God over them all, and they beat +me down into the boat. And so James Lancaster came into the boat to me +and so he set me over the water. + +'And James Nayler we saw afterwards that they were beating of him. For +while they were beating of me, he walked up into a field, and they +never minded him till I was gone, and then they fell upon him, and all +their cry was "Kill him!" "Kill him!" When I was come over to the town +again, on the other side of the water, the townsmen rose up with +pitchforks, flails, and staves to keep me out of the town, crying, +"Kill him! knock him on the head! bring the cart and carry him to the +churchyard." And so they abused me and guarded me with all those +weapons a pretty way out of the town, and there at last, the Lord's +power being over them all, they left me. Then James Lancaster went +back again to look for James Nayler. So I was alone and came to a +ditch of water and washed me, for they had all dirted me, and wet and +mired my clothes, my hands and my face. + +'I walked a matter of three miles to Thomas Hutton's, where Thomas +Lawson the priest lodged, who was convinced. And I could hardly speak +to them when I came in I was so bruised. And so I told them where I +had left James Nayler, and they went and took each of them a horse, +and brought him thither that night. And I went to bed, but I was so +weak with bruises that I was not able to turn me. And the next day, +they hearing of it at Swarthmoor, they sent a horse for me. And as I +was riding the horse knocked his foot against a stone and stumbled, so +that it shook me so and pained me, as it seemed worse to me than all +the blows, my body was so tortured. So I came to Swarthmoor, and my +body was exceedingly bruised.' + +Even within the sheltering walls of Swarthmoor, this time persecution +followed. Justice Sawrey had not yet forgiven the Quaker for his +behaviour on the day of the riot. He must have further punishment. So +right up to Swarthmoor itself came constables with a warrant signed by +two Justices (Sawrey of course being one of them), that a certain man +named George Fox was to be apprehended as a disturber of the peace. +And clapped into gaol George Fox would have been, wounded and bruised +as he was, in spite of all that his gentle hostesses could do to +prevent it, had it not happened that, just as the constables arrived +to execute this order, the master of the house, good Judge Fell +himself, must needs return once more, in the very nick of time, home +to Swarthmoor. His mere presence was a defence. + +He had been away again on circuit all this time that George Fox had +been so cruelly treated in the neighbourhood, and had therefore known +nothing of the rioting during his absence. Now that he was back at +home again, straightway everything went well. The roof seemed to grow +all at once more sheltering, the walls of the old hall to become +thicker and more able to protect its inmates, when once the master of +the house was safely at home once more. + +The six girls ran up and down stairs more lightly, smiling with relief +whenever they met each other in the rooms and passages. Long +afterwards, in the troubled years that were to follow, when there was +no indulgent father to protect them and their mother and their friends +from the bitter blast of persecution, many a time did the maidens of +Swarthmoor recall that day. They remembered how, weeping, they had run +down to the high arched gate of the orchard to meet their father, and +to tell him what was a-doing up at the Hall. Thus they drew near the +house, the Judge's dark figure half hidden among his muslined maidens, +even as the dark old yews are hidden in spring by the snowy-blossomed +apple-trees. When they saw the Judge himself coming towards them, the +constables drawn up in the courtyard began to look mighty foolish. +They approached with gestures of respect, giving a short account of +what had happened at Walney, and holding out the warrant, signed by +two justices, as an apology for their presence at Judge Fell's own +Hall during his absence. + +All their excuses availed them little. Judge Fell could look stern +enough when he chose, and now his eyes flashed at this invasion of +his home. + +'What brings you here, men? A warrant for the apprehension of George +Fox, _MY GUEST_? Are my brother Justices not aware then that I am a +Justice too, and Vice-Chancellor of the county to boot? Under this +roof a man is safe, were he fifty times a Quaker. But, since ye are +here' (this with a nod and a wink, as the constables followed the +Judge up the flagged path and by a side door into his oak-panelled +study), 'since ye are here, men, I will give you other warrants +a-plenty to execute instead. Those riotous folk at Walney Island are +well known to me of old. It is high time they were punished. Take +this, and see that the ringleaders who assaulted my guest are +themselves clapped into Lancaster Gaol forthwith.' + +Well pleased to get off with nothing but a reprimand, the constables +departed, and carried out their new mission with right good will. The +rioters were apprehended, and some of them were forced to flee from +the country. In time James Lancaster's wife came to understand better +the nature of the 'witchcraft' that George Fox had used upon her +husband. She too was 'convinced of Truth.' Later on, after she had +herself become a Friend, she must often have looked back with remorse +to the sad day when her husband had been forced to defend his loved +and revered teacher with his own body from her blows and stones. + +Meanwhile at Swarthmoor there had been great rejoicing over the +discomfiture of the constables. No sooner had they departed down the +flagged path than back flitted the bevy of girls again into the study, +until the small room was full to overflowing. It was like seeing a +company of fat bumble-bees, their portly bodies resplendent in black +and gold, buzz heavily out of a room, and a gay flight of pale-blue +and lemon butterflies flit back in their places. All the daughters +fell upon their father, Margaret, Bridget, Isabel, Sarah, Mary, and +Susanna; there they all were! tugging off his heavy riding-boots and +gaiters, putting away the whip on the whip-rack, while little Mary +perched herself proudly on his knee and put up her face for a kiss; +and, all the time, such a talk went on as never was about Friend +George Fox and the sufferings he had undergone, each girl telling the +story over and over again. + +'Now, now, maids!' said the kind father at last, 'I have heard enough +of your chatter. It is time for you to depart and send Mr. Fox hither +to me himself. 'Tis a stirring tale, even told by maidens' lips; I +would fain hear it at greater length from the man himself. He shall +tell me, in his own words, all that he hath suffered, and the vile +usage he hath met with at the hands of his enemies.' + +A few minutes later, a steady step was heard crossing the hall and +ascending the two shallow stairs that led to the Justice's private +sanctum. As George Fox entered the room Judge Fell rose from his seat +at the writing-table to receive his guest, and clasped his hand with a +hearty greeting. + +The study at Swarthmoor is only a small room; but when those two +strong men were both in it together, facing each other with level +brows and glances of unclouded trust, the small room seemed suddenly +to grow larger and more spacious. It was swept through by the wide +free airs of heaven, where full-grown spirits can meet and recognise +one another unhindered. They disagreed often, these two determined, +powerful men. They owned different loyalties and held different +opinions; but from the day they first met to the day they parted they +respected and trusted one another wholly, and for this each man in his +heart gave thanks to God. + +George Fox began by asking his host how his affairs had prospered; but +when, these enquiries answered, the Judge in his turn questioned his +guest of the rough usage he had met with both at Ulverston and in the +Island of Walney, to his surprise no details were forthcoming. Had the +Judge not had full particulars from his daughters as well as from the +constables, he would have thought that nothing of much moment had +occurred. George Fox apparently took no interest in the subject; the +most he would say, in answer to his host's repeated enquiries, was +that 'the people could do no other, in the spirit in which they were. +They did but show the fruits of their priest's ministry and their +profession and religion to be wrong.' + +'I' faith, Margaret, thy friend is a right generous man,' the good +Judge remarked to his wife, that same night, a few hours later, when +they were at length alone together in their chamber. The festoons of +interlaced roses and lilies, carved in high relief on the high black +oak fireplace, shone out clearly in the glow of two tall candles above +their heads. + +'In truth, dear Heart,' he continued, taking his wife's hand in his, +and drawing her fondly to him, 'in truth, though I said not so to him, +the Quaker doth manifest the fruits of his religion to be right, by +his behaviour to his foes. All stiff and bruised though he was, he +made nothing of his injuries. When I would have enquired after his +hurts, he would only say the Power of the Lord had surely healed him. +FOR THE REST, HE MADE NOTHING OF IT, AND SPOKE AS A MAN WHO HAD NOT +BEEN CONCERNED.' + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[13] 'Flee from Storms' is a motto in the note-book of Leonardo da +Vinci. + + + + +XIV. MILES HALHEAD AND THE HAUGHTY LADY + + + + + _'Many a notable occurrence Miles + Halhead had in his life.... But + his going thus often from home was + a great cross to his wife, who in + the first year of his change, not + being of his persuasion, was often + much troubled in her mind, and + would often say from discontent, + "Would to God I had married a + drunkard, then I might have found + him at the alehouse; but now I + cannot tell where to find my + husband."'--SEWEL._ + + + _To Friends--To take care of such + as suffer for owning the Truth._ + + _'And that if any friends be + oppressed any manner of way, others + may take care to help them: and + that all may be as one family, + building up one another and helping + one another.'_ + + + _'And, friends, go not into the + aggravating part to strive with + it, lest you do hurt to your + souls, and run into the same + nature; for PATIENCE MUST GET THE + VICTORY, and it answers to that of + God in everyone and will bring + everyone from the contrary. So let + your temperance and moderation and + patience be known to all.'--GEORGE + FOX._ + + + _'Non tristabit justum quidquid si + accederit.'_ + + _'Whatever happens to the righteous + man it shall not heavy + him.'--RICHARD ROLLE. 1349._ + + + + +XIV. MILES HALHEAD AND THE HAUGHTY LADY + + +A Plain, simple man was Miles Halhead, the husbandman of Mountjoy. Ten +years older than Fox was he, and wise withal, so that men wondered to +see him forsake his home and leave wife and child at the call of the +Quaker's preaching, and go forth instead to become a preacher of the +Gospel. + +Yet, truth to tell, the change was natural and easily explained. All +his life Miles had had to do with seeds buried in the ground. +Therefore when he heard George Fox preach at his home near Underbarrow +in Westmorland, telling all men to consider 'that as the fallow ground +in their fields must be ploughed up before it would bear seed to them, +so must the fallow ground of their hearts be ploughed up before they +could bear seed to God,' Miles' own past experience as a husbandman +bore witness to the truth of this doctrine. His whole nature sprang +forward to receive it; and thus, in a short while, he was mightily +convinced. + +Now at that time there were, as we know, many companies of Seekers +scattered up and down the pleasant Westmorland dales. Miles himself +had been one of such a group, but now, having found that which he had +aforetime been a-seeking, nought was of any value to him, but that his +old companions should likewise cease to be Seekers, and become also in +their turn Finders. Yet Miles wondered often how such an one as he +should be able to convince them. For he was neither skilful nor ready +of tongue, nor of a commanding presence like Friend George Fox, but +only a simple husbandman. Still he was wary in his discourse, from +his long watching of the faces of Earth and Sky--full also he was of a +most convincing silence; and, though as yet he had proved it not, +staunch to suffer for his faith. It was said of him that 'his +Testimony was plaine and powerful, he being a plain simple man.' + +Thus Miles Halhead began to preach the Gospel, at first only in the +hamlets and valleys round his home at Underbarrow near to Kendal. But +one day when the daffodils were all abloom, and blowing their golden +trumpets silently beside the sheltered streams, it came to him that he +must take a further journey, and must follow the golden paths of the +daffodils over hill and vale, until at the end of this street of gold +he should come to Swarthmoor Hall; that there he might assist his +friends at their Meeting, and with them be strengthened and have his +soul refreshed. + +A walk of seventeen miles or so lay before him, and an easy journey it +should prove in this gay springtime, though in winter, when the snow +lay drifted on the uplands, it would have been another matter. He +could have travelled by the sheltered road that runs through the +valley. It being springtime, however, and a sunny day when Miles set +out from his home, he chose for pure pleasure to go by the fells. +First, he travelled across the Westmorland country till he came to the +lower end of Lake Winandermere, where the hills lie gently round like +giants' children, being not yet full grown into giants themselves with +brows that touch the sky, as they are at the upper end of that same +shining lake. Then, leaving Winandermere, across the Furness fells he +came, keeping ever on his right hand the Old Man of Coniston, who, +with his head for the most part wrapped in clouds, standeth yet, as he +hath stood for ages, the Guardian of all that region. + +Thus at length, as Miles journeyed, he came within sight of the +promontory of Furness, that lies encircled by the sea, even as a +babe's head lies in the crook of a woman's elbow. Seeing this, Miles' +heart rejoiced, for he knew that his journey's end was in sight, and +he tramped along blithely and without fear. + +Suddenly, on the path at some distance ahead of him, he saw a patch of +brilliant green and purple coming towards him--a gay figure more +likely to be met with in the streets of London than on those lonely +fells. Miles thought to himself as it drew nearer, ''Tis a woman!' +then, 'Nay, it is surely a great Thistle coming towards me; no woman +would wear garments such as those in this lonely place.' As he shaded +his eyes the better to see what might be approaching, his mind ran +back to the first sermon he had ever heard George Fox preach, on his +first visit to Underbarrow, when he said, 'That all people in the Fall +were gone from the image of God, righteousness and holiness, and were +degenerated into the nature of beasts, of serpents, of tall cedars, of +oaks, of bulls and of heifers.' ... 'Some were in the nature of dogs +and swine, biting and rending; some in the nature of briars, thistles +and thorns; some like the owls and dragons in the night; some like the +wild asses and horses snuffing up the wind; and some like the +mountains and rocks, and crooked and rough ways.' 'I was not certain +of his meaning when I first heard him utter these words,' simple Miles +thought to himself, 'but now that I see this fine Thistle coming +towards me, I begin to understand him. Haply it is but a Thistle in +outer seeming, and carries within the nature of a Lily or a Rose.' + +Even as he thought of this, the Thistle came yet nearer, and when he +could see it more plainly he feared that neither Lily nor Rose was +there, but a Thistle full of prickles in very truth. It was indeed a +woman, but clad in more gorgeous raiment than Miles had ever seen. +Green satin was her robe, slashed with pale yellow silk, marvellous to +behold. But it was the hat that drew Miles' gaze, for though newly +come to be a Quaker preacher, he had been a husbandman long enough to +be swift to notice the garb of all growing, living things, whether +they were flowers or dames. Truly the hat was marvellous, of a bright +purple satin, and crowned with such a tuft of tall feathers that the +wearer's face could scarcely be seen beneath its shade. Dressed all in +gaudy style was this fine Madam; and, as she passed Miles, she tilted +up her head and drew her skirts disdainfully together, lest they +should be soiled by his approach. Although the lady appeared to see +him not, but to be gazing at the sky, she was in truth well aware of +his presence, and awaited even hungrily a lowly obeisance from him, +that should assure her in her own sight of her own importance. For of +no high-born lineage was this flaunting dame, no earl's or duke's +daughter, else perhaps she had been too well aware of her own dignity +and worth to insist upon others acknowledging it. She was but the +young wife of the old Justice, Thomas Preston, and a plain Mistress, +like Miles' own simple wife at home, in spite of her gay garments and +flaunting airs. But the fact that she had newly come to live at Holker +Hall, the finest mansion in all that country-side, had uplifted her +in her own sight, and puffed her out with pride, sending her forth at +all hours into unseasonable places to show off her fine new London +clothes. + +Therefore she paused a little as she passed Miles, waiting for him to +doff his hat and bend his knee, and declare himself in all lowliness +her servant. But Miles had never a thought of doing this. Though he +was but newly turned Quaker, right well he remembered hearing George +Fox say-- + +'Moreover, when the Lord sent me forth into the world, He forbade me +to put off my hat to any--high or low--and I was required to "thee" +and "thou" all men and women, without any respect to rich or poor, +great or small. And as I travelled up and down, I was not to bid +people "Good-morrow," or "Good-evening," neither might I bow or scrape +with the leg to anyone, and this made the sects and the professors to +rage.' + +Miles, too, having learnt this lesson and made it his own, passed by +the lady in all soberness and quietness, taking no more notice of her +than if she had been one of those dames painted on canvas by the late +King's painter, Sir Anthony Van Dyck, which, truth to tell, she +mightily resembled. The haughty fair one seeing this, as soon as he +had fully passed and she could no longer delude herself with the hope +that the longed-for salute was coming, was vastly and mightily +incensed. It was not her hat alone that was thistle colour then: her +face, her forehead, her neck all blazed and burned in one purple flush +of rage. Only her cheeks stayed a changeless crimson, and that for a +very excellent reason, easy to guess. Violently she turned herself to +a serving-man who was following in her train, following so humbly, and +being so much hidden by Madam's fallals and furbelows, that until that +moment Miles had not even seen that he was there. + +'Back, sirrah!' she said in a loud, angry voice, speaking to the man +as if he had been a dog or a horse, 'back with thy staff and beat that +unmannerly knave till thou hast taught him 'twere well he should learn +to salute his betters.' + +The servant was tired of following his lady like a lap-dog, and +attending to all her whims and whimsies. Scenting sport more nearly to +his liking, he obeyed, nothing loath. He fell upon Miles and beat him +lustily and stoutly, expecting every moment that he would resist or +beg for mercy. + +Mistress Preston meanwhile, having turned full round, watched the +thwacking blows, and counted each one as it fell, with a smile of +pleasure. But her smile speedily became an angry frown, for Miles, +well knowing to whom his chastisement was due, paid no heed to the +serving-man, let him lay on never so soundly, but turned himself round +under the blows, and cried out in a loud voice to her: 'Oh, thou +Jezebel, thou proud Jezebel, canst thou not permit and suffer the +servant of the Lord to pass by thee quietly?' + +Now at that word 'Jezebel,' Mistress Preston's anger was yet more +mightily inflamed against Miles, for she knew that he had discovered +the reason why her cheeks had remained pink, and flushed not thistle +purple like the rest of her countenance. Even the serving-man smiled +to himself, a mocking smile, and hummed in a low voice, as he +continued to lay the blows thickly on Miles, a ditty having this +refrain-- + + 'Jezebel, the proud Queen, + Painted her face,' + +He did not suppose that his mistress would recognise the tune; but +recognise it she did, and it increased her anger yet more, if that +were possible. She flung out both hands in a fury, as if she would +herself have struck at Miles, then, thinking him not fit for her +touch, she changed her mind, and spat full in his face. Oh, what a +savage Thistle was that woman, and worse far than any Thistle in her +behaviour! Loudly, too, she exclaimed, 'I scorn to fall down at thy +words!' Her meaning in saying this is not fully clear, but it may be, +as Miles had called her Jezebel, she meant that no one should ever +cast her down from her high estate, as Jezebel was cast down from the +window in the Palace, whence she mocked at Jehu. This made Miles +testify yet once more--'Thou proud Jezebel,' said he, 'thou that +hardenest thine heart and brazenest thy face against the Lord and His +servant, the Lord will plead with thee in His own time and set in +order before thee the things thou hast this day done to His servant.' + +By this time the lady's lackey had at length stopped his beating, not +out of mercy to Miles, but simply because his arm was weary. Yet he +still kept humming under his breath another verse of the same ditty, +ending-- + + 'Jezebel, the proud Queen, + 'Tired her hair!' + +Miles, therefore, being loosed from his hands, parted from both +mistress and man, and left them standing without more words and +himself passed on, bruised and buffeted, to continue his journey in +sore discomfort of body until he came to Swarthmoor. + +Arrived at that gracious home, his friends comforted him and bound up +his aching limbs, as indeed they were well accustomed to do in those +days, when the guests who arrived at Swarthmoor had too often been +sorely mishandled. Even to this day, in all the lanes around, may be +seen the walls composed of sharp, grey, jagged stones, over which is +creeping a covering of soft golden moss. So in those old days of which +I write, men, aye and women too, often came to Swarthmoor torn and +bleeding, perhaps sometimes with anger in their hearts (though Miles +Halhead was not of these), and all alike found their inward and +outward wounds staunched and assuaged by the never-failing sympathy of +kindly hearts, and hands more soft than the softest golden moss. + +Thus Miles Halhead was comforted of his friends at Swarthmoor, and +inwardly refreshed. Yet the matter of his encounter with the haughty +lady, and of her prickly thistle nature, rested on his mind, and he +could not be content without giving her yet one more chance to doff +her prickles and become a sweet and fragrant flower in the garden of +the Lord. Therefore, three months later, being continually urged +thereunto by 'the true Teacher which is within,' he determined to take +yet another journey and come himself to Holker Hall, and ask to speak +with its mistress and endeavour to bring her to a better mind. Thither +then in due course he came. Now a mansion surpassing grand is Holker +Hall, the goodliest in all that country-side. And a plain man and a +simple, as has been said, was Miles Halhead the husbandman of +Mountjoy, even among the Quakers--who were none of them gay gallants. +Nevertheless, being full of a great courage though small in stature, +all weary and travel-stained as he was, to Holker Hall Miles Halhead +came. He would not go to any back door or side door, seeing that his +errand was to the mistress of the stately building. He walked +therefore right up the broad avenue till he came to the front +entrance, with its grand portico, where a king had been welcomed +before now. + +As luck would have it, the door stood open as the Quaker approached, +and the mistress of Holker Hall herself happened to be passing through +the hall behind. She paused a moment to look through the open door, +intending most likely to mock at the odd figure she saw approaching. +But on that instant she recognised Miles as the man who had called her +Jezebel. Now Miles at first sight did not recognise her, and was +doubtful if this could be the haughty Thistle lady he sought, or if it +were not a Lily in very truth. For Mistress Preston was clad this hot +day in a lily-like frock of white clear muslin, all open at the neck +and short enough to show her ankles and little feet, and tied with a +blue ribbon round the waist, a garb most innocent to look upon, and +more suited to a girl in her teens than to the Justice's wife, the +buxom mistress of Holker Hall. + +Therefore Miles, not recognising her, did ask her if she were in truth +the woman of the house. To which she, seeing his uncertainty, answered +lyingly: 'No, that I am not, but if you would speak with Mistress +Preston, I will entreat her to come to you.' + +Even as the words left her lips, Miles was sensible that she was +speaking falsely, seeing how, even under the paint, her cheeks took on +a deeper hue. And she, ever mindful that it was that same man who had +called her Jezebel, went into the house and returning presently with +another woman, declared that here was Mistress Preston, and demanded +what was his will with her. No sooner had she spoken a second time +than it was manifested to Miles with perfect clearness that she +herself and none other was the woman he sought. Wherefore, in spite of +her different dress and girlish mien, he said to her, 'Woman, how +darest thou lie before the Lord and His servant?' + +And she, being silent, not speaking a word, he proceeded, 'Woman, hear +thou what the Lord's servant hath to say unto thee,--O woman, harden +not thy heart against the Lord, for if thou dost, He will cut thee off +in His sore displeasure; therefore take warning in time, and fear the +Lord God of Heaven and Earth, that thou mayest end thy days in peace.' +Having thus spoken he went his way; she, how proud soever, not seeking +to stay him nor doing him any harm, but standing there silent and dumb +under the tall pillars of the door, being withheld and stilled by +something, she knew not what. + +Yet her thistle nature was not changed, though, for that time, her +prickles were blunted. It chanced that several years later, when +George Fox was a prisoner at Lancaster, this same gay madam came to +him and 'belched out many railing words,' saying among the rest that +'his tongue should be cut off, and he be hanged.' Instead of which, it +was she herself that was cut off and died not long after in a +miserable condition. + +Thus did Mistress Preston of Holker Hall refuse to bow her haughty +spirit, yet the matter betwixt her and Miles ended not altogether +there. For it happened that another April day, some three springs +after Miles Halhead had encountered her the first time, as he was +again riding from Swarthmoor towards his home near Underbarrow, and +again being come near to Holker Hall, he met a man unknown to him by +sight. This person, as Miles was crossing a meadow full of daffodils +that grew beside a stream, would not let him pass, as he intended, but +stopped and accosted him. 'Friend,' said he to Miles, 'I have +something to say to you which hath lain upon me this long time. I am +the man that about three years ago, at the command of my mistress, did +beat you very sore; for which I have been very troubled, more than for +anything which ever I did in all my life: for truly night and day it +hath been in my heart that I did not well in beating an innocent man +that never did me any hurt or harm. I pray you forgive me and desire +the Lord to forgive me, that I may be at peace and rest in my mind.' + +To whom Miles answered, 'Truly, friend, from that time to this day I +have never had anything in my heart towards either thee or thy +mistress but love. May God forgive you both. As for me, I desire that +it may not be laid to your charge, for you knew not what you did.' +Here Miles stopped and gave the man his hand and forthwith went on his +way; and the serving-man went on his way; both of them with a glow of +brotherhood and fellowship within their hearts. While the daffodils +beside the stream looked up with sunlit faces to the sun, as they blew +on their golden trumpets a blast of silent music, for joy that ancient +injury was ended, and that in its stead goodwill had come. + + + + +XV. SCATTERING THE SEED + + + + + _'As early as 1654 sixty-three + ministers, with their headquarters + at Swarthmoor, and undoubtedly + under central control, were + travelling the country upon + "Truth's ponies"'--JOHN WILHELM + ROWNTREE._ + + + _'It is interesting to note and + profitable to remember, how large + a part these sturdy shepherds and + husbandmen, from under the shade + of the great mountains, had in + preaching the doctrines of the + Inward Light and of God's + revelation of Himself to every + seeking soul, in the softer and + more settled countries of the + South.'--THOMAS HODGKIN._ + + + _'Some speak to the conscience; + some plough and break the clods; + some weed out, and some sow; some + wait that fowls devour not the + seed. But wait all for the + gathering of the simple-hearted + ones.'... 1651._ + + _'Friends, spread yourselves + abroad, that you may be serviceable + for the Lord and His Truth.' 1654._ + + _'Love the Truth more than all, and + go on in the mighty power of God, + as good soldiers of Christ, + well-fixed in His glorious gospel, + and in His word and power; that you + may know Him, the life and + salvation and bring up others into + it.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'Go! Set the whole world on fire + and in flames!'--IGNATIUS LOYOLA. + (To one whom he sent on a distant + mission.)_ + + + + +XV. SCATTERING THE SEED + + +In Springtime the South of England is a Primrose Country. Gay carpets +of primroses are spread in the woods; shy primroses peep out like +stars in sheltered hedgerows; vain primroses are stooping down to look +at their own faces in pools and streams, there are primroses, +primroses everywhere. But in the North of England their 'paly gold' +used to be a much rarer treasure. True, there were always a few +primroses to be found in fortunate spots, if you knew exactly where to +look for them; but they were not scattered broadcast over the country +as they are further South. + +Therefore, North Country children never took primroses as a matter of +course, they did not tear them up roughly, just for the fun of +gathering them, drop them heedlessly the next minute and leave them on +the road to die. North Country children used their precious holiday +time to seek out their favourite flowers in their rare hiding-places. + +'I've found one!' 'So have I!' 'There they are; two, three, +four,--lots!' 'I see them!' The air would be full of delighted +exclamations as the children scampered off, short legs racing, rosy +cheeks flushing, bright eyes glowing with eagerness, to see who could +take home the largest bunch. + +The further north a traveller went, the rarer did primroses become, +till in Northumberland, the most northerly county of all, primroses +used to be very scarce indeed. Until, only a few years ago, a +wonderful thing happened. There were days and weeks and months of +warm sunny weather all through the spring and summer in that +particular year. Old people smiled and nodded to one another as they +said: 'None of us ever remembers a spring like this before!' + +The tender leaves and buds and flowers undid their wrappings in a +hurry to be first to catch sight of the sun, whose warm fingers had +awakened them, long before their usual time, from their winter sleep. +All over England the spring flowers had a splendid time of it that +year. + +Even the few scattered primroses living in what Southerners call 'the +cold grey North' were obviously enjoying themselves. Their smooth, +pale-yellow faces opened wider, and grew larger and more golden, day +by day: while new, soft, pointed buds came poking up through their +downy green blankets in unexpected places. Moreover, the warm weather +lasted right through the summer. Not only did far more primroses +flower than usual, but also, after they had faded, there was plenty of +warmth to ripen the precious seed packet that each one had carried at +its heart. No wonder the children clapped their hands, that joyous +spring, when their treasures were so plentiful; but they feared that +they would never have such good luck again, even if they lived to be +as old as the old people who had 'never seen such a spring before.' + +It was not until a year later that the delighted children discovered +that the long spell of sunshine and the Enchanter Wind had worked a +lasting magic. The ripened seed had been scattered far and wide. The +primroses had come to the North to stay; and new Paradises were +springing up everywhere. + +Now this is a primrose parable of many things, and worth remembering. +Among other things it is an illustration of the change that was +wrought all over England by the preaching of George Fox. + +Think once again of the long bleak years of his youth, when he was +struggling in a dark world into which it seemed as if no ray of light +could pierce; when he and everyone else seemed to be frozen up in a +wintry religion, without life or warmth. Then think how at length he +felt the sap rising in his own soul, turning his whole being to the +Light, as he found 'there is one, even Christ Jesus, that can speak to +thy condition.' This discovery taught him that in all other men's +hearts too, if they only knew, there was 'that of God.' Henceforward, +to proclaim that Light to others and the seed within their own hearts +that responds to the beams of the Sun of Righteousness, was the +service to which George Fox devoted his whole life. As his own being +blossomed in the spiritual sunshine of his great discovery, he was +able to persuade hundreds and thousands of other frozen hearts to +yield themselves and turn to the Light, and open and blossom also in +that same sunshine. A greater wonder followed. Those other lives, as +they yielded themselves, began to ripen too, in different ways, but +silently and surely, until they in their turn were ready to scatter +the new seed, or, in the language of their day, to 'Publish Truth' up +and down all over the country, until the whole face of England was +changed. + +By the time of George Fox's death, more than one out of every hundred +among all the people of England was a Friend. But the Friends never +regarded themselves as a Sect, although Sects were flourishing at +that time. In 1640 it is said that twenty new kinds of Sects blossomed +out in the course of one week. George Fox and his followers believed +that the discovery they had made was meant for everybody, as much as +sunshine is. Other people nicknamed them 'Quakers,' but they always +spoke of themselves by names that the whole world was welcome to +share: 'Children of the Light,' 'Friends of the Truth,' or simply +'Friends.' There was nothing exclusive about such names as these. +There was no such thing as membership in a society then or for more +than fifty years afterwards. Anyone who was convinced by what he had +heard, and lived in the spirit of what he professed, became 'Truth's +Friend' in his turn. + +Neither was there anything exclusive in George Fox's message. 'Keep +yourselves in an universal spirit' was what he both preached and +practised. It was in 'an universal spirit' that he and his followers +scattered all over the country. No wonder they earned the name of 'the +Valiant Sixty,' that little band of comrades who in 1654 started out +from the North Country on their mission of convincing all England of +'the Truth.' + +They were nearly all young men, their leader Fox himself still only +thirty at this time. Francis Howgill and John Camm were two of the +very few elders in the company. They usually travelled in couples, +dear friends naturally going together; for is not the best work always +done with the right companion? George Fox, who was leader, not by any +outward signs of authority but by fervour of inward power and zeal, +occasionally travelled alone. More often he took with him a comrade, +such as Richard Farnsworth (of whom we have heard at Pendle), or James +Nayler, or Leonard Fell, or many another, of whom there are other +stories yet to tell. + +Never was George Fox happier than when he was sowing the seed in a new +place. All over England there are memories of him, even as far away as +the Land's End. + +When, in 1656, he reached the rocky peninsula of granite at the +extreme south-west of England, he wrote in his journal: 'At Land's End +we had a precious meeting. Here was a fisherman, Nicholas Jose, +convinced, that became a faithful minister. He spoke in meetings and +declared truth to the people, so that I told Friends he was "like +Peter." I was glad the Lord raised up His standard in those dark parts +of the nation, where since there is a fine meeting of honest-hearted +Friends, and a great people the Lord will have in that country.' + +Unluckily, some of the other Cornish fisherfolk were not at all 'like +Peter.' They were wreckers, and used to entice ships on to the rocks +by means of false lights in order to enrich themselves with the spoils +washed up on their coasts. This is why George Fox spoke of them as a +'dark people,' and was moved to put forth a paper 'warning them +against such wicked practices.' + +There are memories of him also in the town which was then called +Smethwick, and is now called Falmouth, as well as at grim old +Pendennis Castle: one of the twin castles that had been built by King +Henry the Eighth to guard the mouth of Falmouth harbour. Here George +Fox was confined. From hence he was carried to Launceston, where he +lay for many weeks in prison in the awful den of Doomsdale, under +conditions so dreadful that it is impossible to describe them here. +When, at length, he was set at liberty he found a refuge at the +hospitable farmhouse of Tregangeeves near St. Austell--the Swarthmoor +of the West of England--with its warm-hearted mistress, Loveday +Hambley. At Exeter he stayed at an inn, at the foot of the bridge, +named 'the Seven Stars.' In our own day some of his followers have +found another 'Inn of Shining Stars' at Exeter also, when their turn +has come to be lodged within the grim walls of the Gaol for conscience +sake. + + * * * * * + +Now let us borrow the Giant's Seven-Leagued boots, and fancy ourselves +in the far North of England, in 1657, just leaving Cumberland and +crossing the Scottish border. Again the same square-set figure in the +plain, soft, wide hat is riding ahead. But on this journey George Fox +has several others with him: one is our old acquaintance, James +Lancaster: Alexander Parker is the name of another of his companions: +the third, Robert Widders, Fox himself described as 'a thundering +man.' With them rides a certain Colonel William Osborne, 'one of the +earliest Quaker preachers north of the Tweed, who came into Cumberland +at this time on purpose to guide the party.'[14] Colonel Osborne, who +had been present with the other travellers at a meeting at Pardshaw +Crag shortly before, 'said that he never saw such a glorious meeting +in his life.' + +'Fox says that as soon as his horse set foot across the Border, the +infinite sparks of life sparkled about him, and as he rode along he +saw that the seed of the seedsman Christ was sown, but abundance of +clods of foul and filthy earth was above it.'[15] + +A high-born Scottish lady, named Lady Margaret Hamilton, was convinced +on this journey. She afterwards went in her turn to warn Oliver +Cromwell of the Day of the Lord that was coming upon him. Various +other distinguished people seem also to have been convinced at this +time. The names of Fox's new disciples sound unusually imposing: +'Judge Swinton of Swinton; Sir Gideon Scott of Highchester; Walter +Scott of Raeburn, Sir Gideon's brother; Charles Ormiston, merchant, +Kelso; Anthony Haig of Bemersyde and William his brother'; but +Quakerism never took firm root in the Northern Kingdom, as it did +among the dalesmen and townsfolk farther South. + +Fox journeyed on, right into the Highlands, but he got no welcome +there. 'We went among the clans,' he says, 'and they were devilish, +and like to have spoiled us and our horses, and run with pitchforks at +us, but through the Lord's power we escaped them.' At Perth, the +Baptists were very bitter, and persuaded the Governor to drive the +party from the town, whereupon 'James Lancaster was moved to sound and +sing in the power of God, and I was moved to sound the Day of the +Lord, the glorious everlasting Gospel; and all the streets were up and +filled with people: and the soldiers were so ashamed that they cried, +and said they had rather have gone to Jamaica[16] than to guard us so, +and then they set us in a boat and set us over the water.' + +At Leith many officers of the army and their wives came to see Fox. +Among these latter was a certain Mrs. Billing, who lived alone, having +quarrelled with her husband. She brought a handful of coral ornaments +with her, and threw them on the table ostentatiously, in order to see +if Fox would preach a sermon against such gewgaws, since the Quakers +were well known to disapprove of jewellery and other vanities. + +'I took no notice of it,' says Fox, 'but declared Truth to her, and +she was reached.' What a picture it makes! The fine lady, with her +chains and brooches and rings of smooth, rose-coloured coral heaped up +on the table before her, her eyes cast down as she pretended to let +the pretty trifles slip idly through her fingers, yet glancing up now +and then, under her eyelashes, to see if she had managed to attract +the great preacher's attention; and Fox, noticing the baubles well +enough, but paying no attention to them. Fixing his piercing eyes not +on the coral but on its owner, he spoke to Mrs. Billing with such +power that her whole life was changed. Once more Fox had found 'that +of God' within this seemingly frivolous woman. + +Before he left Scotland he had the happiness of persuading Mrs. +Billing to send for her husband, and of helping to make up the quarrel +between them. They agreed eventually to live in unity together once +more as man and wife. + +Fox journeyed on, in this way, year after year, always sowing the seed +wherever he went, and sometimes having the joy of seeing it spring up +above the clods and bring forth fruit an hundredfold. Even during the +long weary intervals of captivity this service still continued. +'Indeed, Fox and his fellow-sufferers never looked upon prison as an +interruption in their life service, but used the new surroundings in a +fresh campaign.'[17] Thus, the historian tells us: 'Though George Fox +found good entertainment, yet he did not settle there but kept in a +continual motion, going from one place to another, to beget souls unto +God.'[18] + +The rest of the 'Valiant Sixty,' meanwhile, were likewise busy, going +up and down the country, working in different places and with +different methods, but all intent on the one enterprise of 'Publishing +Truth.' 'And so when the churches were settled in the North,' says the +Journal, 'and the Lord had raised up many and sent forth many into His +Vineyard to preach His everlasting Gospel, as Francis Howgill and +Edward Burrough to London, John Camm and John Audland to Bristol +through the countries, Richard Hubberthorne and George Whitehead +towards Norwich, and Thomas Holme unto Wales, that a matter of sixty +ministers did the Lord raise up and send abroad out of the North +Countries.' + +There were far fewer big towns in England in those days than there are +now. Probably at least two-thirds of the people lived in the country, +and only the remaining third were townsfolk: nowadays the proportions +are more than reversed. There was then no thickly populated 'Black +Country'; there were then no humming mills in the woollen districts of +Yorkshire, no iron and steel works soiling the pure rivers of Tees and +Wear and Tyne. Most of the chief towns and industries at that time +were in the South. + +'London had a population of half a million. Bristol, the principal +seaport, had about thirty thousand; Norwich, with a similar number of +inhabitants, was still the largest manufacturing city. The publishers +of Truth would now make these three places their chief fields of +service, showing something of the same concentration of effort at +strategic centres which marked the extension of Christianity through +the Roman Empire, under the leadership of Paul.'[19] + +A certain impetuous lad named James Parnell, already a noted Minister +though still in his teens, was hard at work in the counties of East +Anglia. In the next story we shall hear how Howgill and Burrough fared +in their mission 'to conquer London.' + +Splendid tidings came from the two Johns, John Audland and John Camm, +of their progress in Bristol and the West: 'The mighty power of God is +that way; that is a precious city and a gallant people: their net is +like to break with fishes, they have caught so much there and all the +coast thereabout.' The memory of the enthusiasm of those early days +lingered long in the West, in the memory of those who had shared in +them. 'Ah! those great meetings in the Orchard at Bristol I may not +forget,' wrote John Audland many years later, 'I would so gladly have +spread my net over all and have gathered all, that I forgot myself, +never considering the inability of my body,--but it's well, my reward +is with me, and I am content to give up and be with the Lord, for that +my soul values above all things.' + +Women also were among the first Publishers of Truth and helped to +spread the message. Even before Burrough and Howgill reached London, +two women had been there, gently scattering the new seed. It is +recorded that one of them, named Isabella Buttery, 'sometimes spoke a +few words in this small meeting.' + +Two Quaker girls from Kendal, Elizabeth Leavens and 'little Elizabeth +Fletcher,' were the first to preach in Oxford, and a terrible time +they had of it. 'Little Elizabeth Fletcher' was then only seventeen, +'a modest, grave, young woman.' Jane Waugh, one of the 'convinced' +serving-maids at Cammsgill, was a friend of hers; but Jane Waugh's +turn for suffering had not yet come. She was still in the North when +the two Elizabeths reached Oxford. This is the account of what befell +them there: 'The 20th day of the 4th month [June] 1654 came to this +city two maids, who went through the streets and into the Colleges, +steeple and tower houses, preaching repentance and declaring the word +of the Lord to the people.... On the 25th day of the same month they +were moved to go to Martin's Mass House (_alias_) Carefox, where one +of those maids, after the priest had done, spake something in answer +to what the priest had before spoken in exhortation to the people, and +presently were by two Justices sent to prison.' The Mayor of Oxford +seems to have been pleased with the behaviour of the two girls and +caused them to be set at liberty again. But the Vice-Chancellor and +the Justices would not agree to this, and 'earnestly enquired from +whence they came, and their business to Oxford. They answered, "they +were commanded of the Lord to come"; and it being demanded "what to +do," they answered, to "declare against Sin and Ungodliness, which +they lived in." And at this answer the Vice-Chancellor and the +Justices ordered their punishment, to be whipped out of town, and +demanding of the Mayor to agree to the same, and for refusing, said +they would do it of themselves, and signing a paper, the contents +whereof was this: To be severely whipped, and sent out of Town as +Vagrants. And forthwith, because of the tumult, they were put into the +Cage, a place common for the worst of people; and accordingly the next +morning, they were whipped, and sent away, and on the backside of the +City, meeting some scholars, they were moved to speak to them, who +fell on them very violently, and drew them into John's College, where +they tied them back to back and pumped water on them, until they were +almost stifled; and they being met at another time as they passed +through a Graveyard, where a corpse was to be buried, Elizabeth Holme +spake something to the Priest and people, and one Ann Andrews thrust +her over a grave stone, which hurt she felt near to her dying day.' + +Two other women, Elizabeth Williams and a certain Mary Fisher (who was +hereafter to go on a Mission to no less a person than the Grand Turk), +were also cruelly flogged at Cambridge for daring to 'publish Truth' +there. 'The Mayor ... issued his warrant to the Constable to whip them +at the Market Cross till the blood ran down their bodies; and ordered +three of his sergeants to see that sentence, equally cruel and +lawless, severely executed. The poor women kneeling down, in Christian +meekness besought the Lord to forgive him, for that he knew not what +he did: so they were led to the Market Cross, calling upon God to +strengthen their Faith. The Executioner commanded them to put off +their clothes, which they refused. Then he stripped them naked to the +waist, put their arms into the whipping-post, and executed the Mayor's +warrant far more cruelly than is usually done to the worst of +malefactors, so that their flesh was miserably cut and torn. The +constancy and patience which they expressed under this barbarous usage +was astonishing to the beholders, for they endured the cruel torture +without the least change of countenance or appearance of uneasiness, +and in the midst of their punishment sang and rejoiced, saying, "The +Lord be blessed, the Lord be praised, who hath thus honoured us and +strengthened us to suffer for his Name's sake." ... As they were led +back into the town they exhorted the people to fear God, not man, +telling them "this was but the beginning of the sufferings of the +people of God."'[20] + +These two women were the first Friends to be publicly whipped in +England. But their prophecy that 'this was but the beginning' was only +too literally fulfilled. + +Not only had bodily sufferings to be undergone by these brave 'First +Publishers.' Malicious reports were also spread against them, which +must have been almost harder to bear. + +William Prynne, the same William Prynne who had had his own ears +cropped in earlier days by order of the Star Chamber, but who had not, +apparently, learned charity to others through his own sufferings, +published a pamphlet that was spread abroad throughout England. It +was called 'The Quakers unmasked, and clearly detected to be but the +Spawn of Romish Frogs, Jesuits and Franciscan Friars, sent from Rome +to seduce the intoxicated giddy-headed English Nation.' George Fox +called the pamphlet in which he answered this charge by an almost +equally uncharitable title: 'The Unmasking and Discovery of +Antichrist, with all the false Prophets, by the true Light which comes +from Christ Jesus.' + +The seventeenth century has truly been called 'a very ill-mannered +century.' Certainly these were not pretty names for pamphlets that +were so widely read that, to quote the graphic expression of an +earlier writer, 'they walked up and down England at deer rates.' + +Yet, still, in spite of bodily ill-usage and imprisonment, through +good report and through evil report, through fair weather and foul, +the work of scattering the seed continued steadily, day after day, +month after month, year after year. The messengers went on, undaunted; +the Message spread and took root throughout the land; the trials of +the work were swallowed up in the triumphant joy of service and of +'Publishing Truth.' + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[14] W.C. Braithwaite, _Beginnings of Quakerism_. + +[15] W.C. Braithwaite, _Beginnings of Quakerism_. + +[16] Jamaica, with its deadly climate, had lately been taken by +England from Spain, and was at this time proving the grave of hundreds +of English soldiers. + +[17] _Cameos from the Life of George Fox_, by E.E. Taylor. + +[18] Sewel's _History of the Quakers_. + +[19] W.C. Braithwaite, _Beginnings of Quakerism_. + +[20] Besse, _Sufferings of the Quakers_. + + + + +XVI. WRESTLING FOR GOD + + + + + _'Being but a boy, Edward Burrough + had the spirit of a man. Reviling, + slandering, buffetting and caning + were oft his lot. Nothing could + make this hero shrink.'--SEWEL._ + + + _'His natural disposition was bold + and manly, what he took in hand he + did with his might; loving, + courteous, merciful and easy to be + entreated; he delighted in + conference and reading of the holy + scriptures.'--'Piety Promoted.'_ + + + _'Dear Brother, mind the Lord and + stand in His will and counsel. And + dwell in the pure measure of God + in thee, and there thou wilt see + the Lord God present with thee. + For the bringing forth many out of + prison art thou there set; behold + the word of the Lord cannot be + bound. The Lord God of Power give + thee wisdom, courage, manhood, and + boldness, to thresh down all + deceit. Dear Heart, be valiant, + and mind the pure Spirit of God in + thee, to guide thee up into God, + to thunder down all deceit within + and without. So farewell, and God + Almighty keep you.'--GEORGE FOX, + to a friend in the ministry._ + + + _'So, all dear and tender hearts, + abide in the counsel of God, and + let not the world overcome your + minds but wait for a daily victory + over it.'--E. BURROUGH._ + + + _'Give me the strength to + surrender my strength to Thee in + Love.'--RABINDRANATH TAGORE._ + + + + +XVI. WRESTLING FOR GOD + + +'A brisk young man with a ready tongue' was the verdict passed upon +Edward Burrough, the hero of this story, by a certain Mr. Thomas +Ellwood when he met him first in the year 1659. + +Ellwood himself, who thus described his new acquaintance, was a young +man too at that time, of good education and scholarly tastes. He +became later the friend of a certain Mr. John Milton, who thought +sufficiently well of his judgment to allow him to read his poetry +before it was published, and to ask him what he thought of it; even, +occasionally, to act upon his suggestions. Ellwood, therefore, was +clearly the possessor of a sober judgment, and not a likely person to +be carried away by the glib words of a wandering preacher. Yet that +'brisk young man,' Edward Burrough, did not only 'reach him' with his +'ready tongue,' he also completely 'convinced' him, and altered his +whole life: Ellwood returned to his family ready to suffer hardship if +need be on behalf of his newly-found faith. + +Ellwood's own adventures, however, do not concern us here, but those +of the young man who convinced him. + +Edward Burrough was one of the best loved and most valiant of all +those 'Valiant Sixty' ministers who went forth throughout the length +and breadth of England, in 1654, on their new, wonderful enterprise of +'Publishing Truth.' If Edward Burrough was still 'young and brisk' +when Ellwood first came across him, he must have been yet younger and +brisker on that summer's day, five years earlier, when he left his +home in Westmorland in order to 'conquer London.' This was an +ambitious undertaking truly for any man, however brisk and ready of +tongue. + +It is true that the London of those long-ago days of the Commonwealth, +before the Great Fire, was a much more compact city than the gigantic, +overgrown London of to-day. Instead of 'sprawling over five or six +counties,'[21] and containing six or seven million inhabitants, London +was then a comparatively small place, its population, though rapidly +increasing, did not yet number one million. + +'An old map of the year 1610 shows us that London and Westminster were +then two neighbouring cities surrounded by meadows. "Totten Court" was +an outlying country village. Oxford Street is marked on this map as +"The way to Uxbridge," and runs between meadows and pastures. The +Tower, Westminster Abbey, St. Paul's Church, ... and some other +landmarks are indeed there, but it is curious to read the accounts +given by the chronicles of the day of its narrow and dirty streets, in +which carts and coaches jostled one another, and foot passengers found +it difficult to get along at all.... When the King went to Parliament, +faggots were thrown into the ruts in the streets through which he +passed, to make it easier for his state coach to drive over the uneven +roads!'[22] + +Nevertheless this gay little countrified town of timbered houses, +surrounded by meadows and orchards, and overlooked by the green +heights of 'Hamsted' and Primrose Hill, was then as now the Capital +City of England. And England under Oliver Cromwell was one of the most +powerful of the States of Europe. + +Therefore if a young man barely out of his teens were to succeed in +'conquering London,' and bending it to his will, he would certainly +need all his briskness and readiness of tongue. + +Edward Burrough probably entered London alone and on foot, after a +journey extending over several weeks. He had left his native +Westmorland in company with good John Camm, the 'statesman' farmer of +Cammsgill. The first stages of their journey were made on horseback. +Many a quiet talk the two men must have had together as they rode +through the green lanes of England,--that long-ago England of the +Commonwealth, its clear skies unstained by any tall chimneys or +factory smoke. There were but few hedgerows then, 'a single hedge is a +marked feature in the contemporary maps.'[23] The cornfields stretched +away in a broad, unbroken expanse as they do to-day on the Continent +of Europe and in the lands of the New World. + +As they rode, Camm would tell Burrough, doubtless, of his first sight +of George Fox, preaching in Sedbergh Churchyard, under the ancient +yew-tree opposite the market cross, on that never-to-be-forgotten day +of the Whitsuntide Fair. The story of the 'Wonderful Fortnight' would +be sure to follow; of the 'Mighty Meeting' on the Fell outside Firbank +Chapel; of the gathering of the Seekers at Preston Patrick; and of yet +another open-air meeting, when hundreds of people assembled one +memorable First Day near his own hillside farm at Cammsgill. + +Then it would be the younger man's turn to tell his tale. + +'He was born in the barony of Kendal ... of parents who for their +honest and virtuous life were in good repute; he was well educated, +and trained up in such learning as that country did afford.... By his +parents he was trained up in the episcopal worship,'[24] but for a +long time, he says that the only religion that he practised was 'going +to church one day in seven to hear a man preach, to read, and sing, +and rabble over a prayer.' (It is easy to smile at the old-fashioned +word; but let us try to remember it when we ourselves are tempted to +get up too late in the morning and 'rabble over' our own prayers.) + +Gradually the unseen world grew more real. A beautiful and comforting +message was given to him in his heart, 'Whom God once loves, he loves +for ever.' Now he grew weary of hearing any of the priests, for he saw +they did not possess what they spoke of to others, and sometimes he +began to question his own experiences. + +Nevertheless he felt it a grievous trial to give up all his prospects +of earthly advancement and become a Quaker. Yet from the day he +listened to George Fox preaching at Underbarrow there was no other +course open to him; though his own parents were much incensed with him +for daring to join this despised people. They even refused to +acknowledge him any longer as a member of their family. Being rejected +as a son, therefore, he begged to be allowed to stay on in his home +and work as a servant, but this, too, was refused. Thus being, as he +says, 'separated from all the glory of the world, and from all his +acquaintance and kindred,' he betook himself to the company of 'a +poor, despised people called Quakers.' + +It must have been a comfort to him, after being cast off by his own +family, to find himself adopted by a still larger family of friends, +and to become one of the 'Valiant Sixty' entrusted with the great +adventure of Publishing Truth. + +Riding along with good John Camm, with talk to beguile the way, was +pleasant travelling; but this happy companionship was not to last very +long. For as they journeyed and came near the 'Middle Kingdom,' or +Midlands, they fell in with another of 'Truth's Publishers.' + +This was none other than their Westmorland neighbour, John Audland, +'the ruddy-faced linen-draper of Crosslands,' John Camm's own especial +comrade and pair among the 'Sixty.' + +It may have been a prearranged plan that they should meet here; anyway +Camm turned aside with Audland and went on with him to Bristol, where +he had already begun to scatter the seed in the west of England, while +Edward Burrough pursued his journey in solitude towards London.[25] +But his days of loneliness were not to last for long. Either just +before or just after his arrival in the great city, two other +Publishers also reached the metropolis, one of whom, Francis Howgill, +was to be his own especial comrade and pair in the task of 'conquering +London.' This was that same Francis Howgill, a considerably older man +than Burrough, and formerly a leader among the Seekers, who had been +preaching that memorable day at Firbank when he thought George Fox +looked into the Chapel and was so much struck that 'you could have +killed him with a crab-apple.' Now that they had come together, +however, it would have taken more than many crab-apples to deter him +and Burrough from their Mission. Together the two friends laid their +plans for the capture of London, and together they proceeded to carry +them out. The success they met with was astonishing. 'By the arm of +the Lord,' writes Howgill, 'all falls before us, according to the word +of the Lord before I came to this City, that all should be as a +plain.' + +Amidst their engrossing labours in the capital the two London +'Publishers' did not forget to send news of their work to Friends in +the North. Many letters written at this time remain. Those to Margaret +Fell, especially, give a vivid picture of their progress. These +letters are signed sometimes by Howgill, sometimes by Burrough, +sometimes by both together. But, whatever the signature, the pronouns +'I' and 'we' are used indiscriminately, as if to show that the writers +were not only united in the service of Truth but were also one in +heart. + +'We two,' they say in one letter, 'are constrained to stay in this +city; but we are not alone, for the power of our Father is with us, +and it is daily made manifest through weakness, even to the stopping +of the mouths of lions and to the confounding of the serpent's +wisdom; eternal praises to Him for evermore. In this city, iniquity is +grown to the height. We have three meetings or more every week, very +large, more than any place will contain, and which we can conveniently +meet in. Many of all sorts come to us and many of all sorts are +convinced, yea, hundreds do believe....' + +Again: 'We get Friends together on the First Days to meet together out +of the rude multitude; and we two go to the great meeting place which +we have, which will hold a thousand people, which is always nearly +filled, there to thresh among the world; and we stay till twelve or +one o'clock and then pass away, the one to the one place and the other +to another place where Friends are met in private; and stay till four +or five o'clock.' + +Only a month later yet another 'great place' had to be taken for a +'threshing-floor,' or hall where public meetings could be held. To +these meetings anyone might come and listen to the preachers' message, +which 'threshed them like grain, and sifted the wheat from the "light +chaffy minds" among the hearers.' + +How 'chaffy' and frivolous this gay world of London appeared to these +first Publishers, consumed with the burning eagerness of their +mission, the following description shows. It occurs in a letter from +George Fox himself when he, too, came to the metropolis, a few months +later. + +'What a world this is,' he writes ... 'altogether carried with +fooleries and vanities both men and women ... putting on gold, gay +apparel, plaiting the hair, men and women they are powdering it, +making their backs as if they were bags of meal, and they look so +strange that they cannot look at one another. Pride hath puffed up +every one, they are out of the fear of God, men and women, young and +old, one puffs up another, they are not in the fashion of the world +else, they are not in esteem else, they shall not be respected else, +if they have not gold and silver upon their backs, or his hair be not +powdered. If he have a company of ribbons hung about his waist, red or +white, or black or yellow, and about his knees, and gets a Company in +his hat, and powders his hair, then he is a brave man, then he is +accepted, then he is no Quaker.... Likewise the women having their +gold, their spots on their faces, noses, cheeks, foreheads, having +their rings on their fingers, wearing gold, having their cuffs doubled +under and about like a butcher with white sleeves' (how pretty they +must have been!), 'having their ribbons tied about their hands, and +three or four gold laces about their clothes, "this is no Quaker," say +they.... Now are not all these that have got these ribbons hung about +their arms, backs, waists, knees, hats, hands, like unto fiddlers' +boys, and shew that you are gotten into the basest contemptible life +as be in the fashion of the fiddlers' boys and stage-players, and +quite out of the paths and steeps of solid men.... And further to get +a pair of breeches like a coat and hang them about with points up +almost to the middle, and a pair of double cuffs upon his hands, and a +feather in his cap, and to say, "Here's a gentleman, bow before him, +put off your hats, bow, get a company of fiddlers, a set of music and +women to dance, this is a brave fellow, up in the chamber without and +up in the chamber within," are these your fine Christians? "Yea," say +they. "Yea but," say the serious people, "they are not of Christ's +life." And to see such a company as are in the fashions of the world +... get a couple of bowls in their hands or tables [dice] or +shovel-board, or a horse with a Company of ribbons on his head as he +hath on his own, and a ring in his ear; and so go to horse-racing to +spoil the creature. Oh these are gentlemen, these are bred up +gentlemen! these are brave fellows and they must have their +recreation, and pleasures are lawful. These are bad Christians and +shew that they are gluttoned with the creature and then the flesh +rejoiceth!' + +No wonder that Edward Burrough wrote to Margaret Fell that 'in this +city iniquity is grown to the height,' and again, in a later letter: +'There are hundreds convinced, but not many great or noble do receive +our testimony ... we are much refreshed, we receive letters from all +quarters, the work goes on fast everywhere.... Richard Hubberthorne is +yet in prison and James Parnell at Cambridge.... Our dear brethren +John Audland and John Camm we hear from, and we write to one another +twice in the week. They are near us, they are precious and the work of +the Lord is great in Bristol.' + +Margaret Fell writes back in answer, like a true mother in Israel, +'You are all dear unto me, and all are present with me, and are all +met together in my heart.' + +And now, having heard what the 'Valiant Sixty' thought of London, what +did London think of the 'Valiant Sixty'? Many years later a certain +William Spurry wrote of these early days: 'I being in London at the +time of the first Publication of Truth, there was a report spread in +the City that there was a sort of people come there that went by the +name of plain North Country plow men, who did differ in judgment to +all other people in that City, who I was very desirous to see and +converse with. And upon strict enquiry I was informed that they did +meet at one Widow Matthews in White Cross Street, in her garden, where +I repaired, where was our dear friends Edward Burrough and Francis +Howgill, who declared the Lord's everlasting Truth in the +demonstration of the Spirit of Life, where myself and many more were +convinced. A little time after there was a silent meeting appointed +and kept at Sarah Sawyer's in Rainbow Alley.' + +Very rural and unlike London these places sound: but meetings were not +only held in secluded spots, such as the garden in White Cross Street, +and the house in Rainbow Alley, they were also held in the tumultuous +centres of Vanity Fair. + +'Edward Burrough,' says Sewel the historian, 'though he was a very +young man when he first came forth, yet grew in wisdom and valour so +that he feared not the face of man.' 'At London there is a custom in +summer time, when the evening approaches and tradesmen leave off +working, that many lusty fellows meet in the fields, to try their +skill and strength at wrestling, where generally a multitude of people +stand gazing in a round. Now it so fell out, that Edward Burrough +passed by the place where they were wrestling, and standing still +among the spectators, saw how a strong and dexterous fellow had +already thrown three others, and was now waiting for a fourth +champion, if any durst venture to enter the lists. At length none +being bold enough to try, E. Burrough stepped into the ring (commonly +made up of all sorts of people), and having looked upon the wrestler +with a serious countenance, the man was not a little surprised, +instead of an airy antagonist, to meet with a grave and awful young +man; and all stood amazed at this sight, eagerly expecting what would +be the issue of this combat. But it was quite another fight Edward +Burrough aimed at. For having already fought against spiritual +wickedness, that had once prevailed in him and having overcome it in +measure, by the grace of God, he now endeavoured also to fight against +it in others, and to turn them from the evil of their ways. With this +intention he began very seriously to speak to the standers by, and +that with such a heart-piercing power, that he was heard by this mixed +multitude with no less attention than admiration; for his speech +tended to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of +Satan to God. + +'Thus he preached zealously; and though many might look upon this as a +novelty, yet it was of such effect that many were convinced of the +truth.... And indeed he was one of those valiants, whose bow never +turned back ... nay he was such an excellent instrument in the hand of +God that even some mighty and eminent men were touched to the heart by +the power of the word of life which he preached' ... 'using few words +but preaching after a new fashion so that he was called a "son of +thunder and also of consolation."' + +'Now I come also to the glorious exit of E. Burrough, that valiant +hero. For several years he had been very much in London, and had there +preached the gospel with piercing and powerful declarations. And that +city was so near to him, that oftentimes, when persecution grew hot, +he said to Francis Howgill, his bosom friend, "I can go freely to the +city of London, and lay down my life for a testimony of that truth, +which I have declared through the power and spirit of God." Being in +this year [1662] at Bristol, and thereabouts, and moved to return to +London, he said to many of his friends, when he took leave of them, +that he did not know he should see their faces any more; and therefore +he exhorted them to faithfulness and steadfastness, in that wherein +they had found rest for their souls. And to some he said, "I am now +going up to the city of London again, to lay down my life for the +gospel, and suffer among friends in that place."'[26] + +Thus it befell that Edward Burrough was called to a more deadly +wrestling match than any in the pleasant London fields. He was thrown +into prison, and there he had to face a mortal foe in the gaol-fever +that was then raging in that noisome den. This was to wrestle in grim +earnest, with Death himself for an adversary; and in this wrestling +match Death was the conqueror. + +Charles the Second was now on the throne. He knew and respected Edward +Burrough, and did his best to rescue him. Knowing the pestilential and +overcrowded state of Newgate at that time, the Merry Monarch, to his +lasting credit, sent a royal warrant for the release of Edward +Burrough and some of the other prisoners, when he heard of the danger +they were in from the foul state of the prison. But this order a +certain cruel and persecuting Alderman, named Richard Brown, and some +magistrates of the City of London contrived to thwart. The prisoners +remained in the gaol. Edward Burrough caught the fever, and grew +rapidly worse. On his death-bed he said, 'Lord, forgive Richard Brown, +who imprisoned me, if he may be forgiven.' Later on he said, 'I have +served my God in my generation, and that Spirit, which has lived and +ruled in me shall yet break forth in thousands.' 'The morning before +he departed his life ... he said, "Now my soul and spirit is centred +into its own being with God; and this form of person must return from +whence it was taken...."' A few moments later, in crowded Newgate, he +peacefully fell asleep. 'This was the exit of E. Burrough, who in his +flourishing youth, about the age of eight and twenty, in an unmarried +state, changed this mortal life for an incorruptible, and whose +youthful summer flower was cut down in the winter season, after he had +very zealously preached the gospel about ten years.'[27] + +Francis Howgill, now left desolate and alone, poured forth a touching +lament for his vanished 'yoke-fellow.' + +'It was my lot,' he writes, 'to be his companion and fellow-labourer +in the work of the gospel where-unto we were called, for many years +together. And oh! when I consider, my heart is broken; how sweetly we +walked together for many months and years in which we had perfect +knowledge of one another's hearts and perfect unity of spirit. Not so +much as one cross word or one hard thought of discontent ever rose (I +believe) in either of our hearts for ten years together.' + +George Fox, no mean fighter himself, adds this comment: 'Edward +Burrough never turned his back on the Truth, nor his back from any out +of the Truth. A valiant warrior, more than a conqueror, who hath got +the crown through death and sufferings; who is dead, but yet liveth +amongst us, and amongst us is alive.' + +But it is from Francis Howgill, who knew him best and loved him most +of all, that we learn the inmost secret of the life of this mighty +wrestler, when he says: + +'HIS VERY STRENGTH WAS BENDED AFTER GOD.' + +[Illustration] + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[21] _Story of Quakerism_, E.B. Emmott. + +[22] _Story of Quakerism_, E.B. Emmott. + +[23] _England under the Stuarts_, G.M. Trevelyan. + +[24] Sewel's _History of the Quakers_. + +[25] I have followed Thomas Camm's account of his father's journey +with Edward Burrough, and of their meeting with John Audland in the +Midlands, as given in his book, _The Memory of the Righteous Revived_. +W.C. Braithwaite, however, in his _Beginnings of Quakerism_, thinks it +more probable that Francis Howgill was E. Burrough's companion from +the North, and that the two friends reached London together. + +[26] Sewel's _History of the Quakers_. + +[27] Sewel's _History of the Quakers_. + + + + +XVII. LITTLE JAMES AND HIS JOURNEYS + + + + + _O, how beautiful is the spring in + a barren field, where barrenness + and deadness fly away. As the + spring comes on, the winter casts + her coat and the summer is nigh. + O, wait to see and read these + things within. You that have been + as barren and dead and dry without + sap; unto you the Sun of + Righteousness is risen with + healing in his wings and begins to + shine in your coasts.... O, mind + the secret sprigs and tender + plants. Now you are called to + dress the garden. Let not the + weeds and wild plants remain. + Peevishness is a weed; anger is a + weed; self-love and self-will are + weeds; pride is a wild plant; + covetousness is a wild plant; + lightness and vanity are wild + plants, and lust is the root of + all. And these things have had a + room in your gardens, and have + been tall and strong; and truth, + innocence, and equity have been + left out, and could not be found, + until the Sun of Righteousness + arose and searched out that which + was lost. Therefore, stand not + idle, but come into the vineyard + and work. Your work shall be to + watch and keep out the fowls, + unclean beasts, wild bears and + subtle foxes. And he that is the + Husbandman will pluck up the wild + plants and weeds, and make defence + about the vines. He will tell you + what to do. He who is Father of + the vineyard will be nigh you. And + what is not clear to you, wait for + the fulfilling.--JAMES PARNELL. + (Epistle to Friends from prison.)_ + + + + +XVII. LITTLE JAMES AND HIS JOURNEYS + + 'Be willing that Self shall suffer for the Truth, and not the + Truth for Self.' + + JAMES PARNELL. + + +Tramping! Tramping! Tramping! An endless journey along the white, +dusty highroad it seemed to little James. Indeed the one hundred and +fifty miles that separate Retford in Nottinghamshire from Carlisle in +far-off Cumberland would have been a long distance even for a +full-grown man to travel on foot in those far-off, railroad-less days +of 1652. Whereas little James, who had undertaken this journey right +across England, was but a boy of sixteen, delicate and small for his +age. + +'Ye will never get there, James,' the neighbours cried when he +unfolded his plans. 'To go afoot to Carlisle! Did any one ever hear +the like? It would be a wild-goose chase, even if a man hoped to come +to speak with a King in his palace at the end of it; but for _thee_ to +go such a journey in order to speak but for a few moments with a man +thou dost not know, and in prison, it is nothing but a daft notion! +What ails thee, boy?' + +The only answer James gave was to knit his brows more firmly together, +and to mutter resolutely to himself, as he gathered his few belongings +into a bundle, 'I must and I will see George Fox!' + +George Fox! The secret was out. That was the explanation of this +fantastic journey. George Fox, after gathering a 'great people' up in +the North, was now himself kept a close prisoner in Carlisle Gaol: yet +he was the magnet attracting this lad, frail of body but determined of +will, to travel right across England for the hope of speaking with him +in his prison cell. + + * * * * * + +Let us look back a little and see how this befell. + +In the stately old church of Saint Swithin at East Retford a record +shows that 'James, son of Thomas Parnell and Sarah his wife, was +baptized there on the sixth day of September 1636.' James' parents +were pious church people. It must have been a proud and thankful day +for them when they took their baby son to be christened in the +beautiful old font in that church, where their elder daughter, Sarah, +had received her name a few years before. On the font may still be +seen the figure of Saint Swithin himself, the patron Saint of the +church. This gentle saint, whose dying wish had been that he might be +buried in no stately building of stone but 'where his grave might be +trod by human feet and watered with the raindrops of heaven,' was the +guardian the parents chose for their little lad. All through his short +life the boy seems to have shared this love of Nature and of the open +air. + +James' parents were well-to-do people, and wisely determined to give +their only son a good education. They sent him, therefore, as soon as +he was old enough, to the Retford Grammar School, to be 'trained up in +the Schools of Literature.' James tells us that he was 'as wild as +others during the time he was at school, and that he was perfect in +sin and iniquity as any in the town where he lived, yea and exceeded +many in the wickedness of his life,' until something or other happened +to sober the wild boy. He does not say what it was. Perhaps it may +have been the news that reached Retford during his school days, that +the King of England had been executed at Whitehall, one cold January +morning. Or it may have been something quite different. Anyhow, before +he left school, he was already anxious and troubled about his soul. + +School days finished, he sought for help in his difficulties from +'priests and professors.' But, like George Fox, a few years earlier, +James Parnell got small help from them. Some of the priests told him +that he was deluded. Others, whose words sounded better, did not +practise what they preached. He says, they 'preached down with their +tongues what they upheld in their lives.' Therefore he decided, out of +his scanty experience, that they all were 'hollow Professors,' and +could be of no use to him. A very hasty judgment! But little James was +tremendously sure of himself at this time, quite certain that he knew +more than most of the people he met, feeling entirely able to set his +neighbours to rights, and yet with a real wish to learn, if only he +could find a true teacher. + +He says, 'I was the first in all that town of Retford which the Lord +was pleased to make known His power in, and turn my heart towards Him +and truly to seek Him, so that I became a wonder to the world and an +astonishment to the heathen round about.' + +He adds that, at this time or a little later, even 'his own relations +became his enemies.' This is not surprising. A young man of fifteen +who described his neighbours and friends as 'the heathen round about' +must have been a distinctly trying companion to the aforesaid +'heathen.' + +Possibly there was more than one sigh of relief heaved in East Retford +when the first of little James's journeys began. It was to be only a +short one, to 'a people with whom I found union a few miles out of the +town where I lived. The Lord was a-gathering them out of the dark +world to sit down together and to wait upon His name.' + +These people were either a little group of Friends already gathered at +Balby, or they may have been 'Seekers' meeting together here in +Nottinghamshire, as they did in the North, at Sedbergh and Preston +Patrick and many another place, 'not celebrating Baptism or the Holy +Communion,' but 'waiting together in silence to be instruments in the +hand of the Lord.' Truly helpful 'instruments' they proved to little +James, for they sent him straight on to Nottingham, where a company of +'Children of Light' was already gathered, to worship God. 'Children of +Light' is the first, and the most beautiful, name given to the Society +of Friends in England. + +When these Nottingham Friends saw the vehement, impulsive boy, his +thin frame trembling, his eyes glowing, as he poured forth his +difficulties, naturally their thoughts went back to the other lad who +had also passed through severe soul struggles in this same +neighbourhood, some ten or twelve years earlier. + +They all said to him, one after the other, 'James Parnell, thou must +see George Fox.' + +'George Fox!' cried little James eagerly, 'I have never even heard his +name. Who is he? Where is he? I will go and find him this very moment, +if he can help me.' + +At these words, all the Nottingham Friends shook their heads very +solemnly and sadly and said, 'That is impossible, James, for our +Friend languisheth in Carlisle Gaol. But we can tell thee of him.' + +Then one after another they recounted the well-known story of George +Fox's boyhood, of his difficulties, of his seeking, of his finding, +and lastly of his preaching, when the Power of God shone through him +as he spoke, and melted men's hearts till they became as wax. + +James, drinking in every word, exclaimed breathlessly as soon as the +story was finished, 'That is the man for me. I will set out for +Carlisle this very minute to find him!' + +Of course all the Friends were aghast at the effect of their words. +They declared that he really couldn't and really shouldn't, that it +was out of the question, and that he must do nothing of the kind! They +did their very best to stop him. But little James (who, as we know, +was not in the habit of paying over-much attention to other people's +opinions at any time) treated all these remonstrances as if they had +been thistledown. He swung his small bundle at the end of a short +stick over his shoulder, tightened his belt, tore himself from their +restraining hands, and exclaiming, 'Farewell, Friends, I go to find +George Fox,' off he set on the long, long journey to Carlisle. + +His spirit was aflame with desire to meet his unknown friend. The +miles seemed few and short that separated him from his goal. But +doubtless some of the women among the 'Children of Light' wiped their +eyes as they watched the fiery little figure disappear along the +dusty road, and said, 'Truly that lad hath a valiant heart!' + +Thus, in a burning fury of desire, the journey began. After many weary +days of travel the flame still burned unquenchably, although the boy's +figure looked yet leaner and more under-sized than when he left his +home. + +Tramp, tramp, tramp, on and ever on, till at last the long-desired day +came, when, over the crest of a low hill, he made out for the first +time the distant spire and towers of the fair Border city. The river +Eden in the meadows below lay gleaming in the sunshine like a silver +bow. + +Threadbare and very dusty were his clothes, his feet swollen and sore, +but his chin was pressed well forward, and the light in his eyes was +that of a conqueror, when at last, tramp, tramp, tramp, his tired feet +came pattering up the stones of the steep old bridge that spans the +Eden and leads to Carlisle Town. + +'Which is the prison?' James asked himself, as his eyes scanned a +bewildering maze of towers and roofs. The tall leaden spire of the +Cathedral was unmistakable, 'no prisoners there.' Next he made out the +big square fortress of sandstone, red as Red William the Norman who +built it long ago, on its central mound frowning over the town. + +His unknown friend might very possibly be within those walls. James +quickened his tired steps at the thought, and then stopped short, for +the gates of the bridge were shut. Droves of sheep and oxen on their +way to market filled the entry, and all foot passengers must wait. +James threw himself down, full length, on one of the broad stone +parapets of the bridge to rest his tired limbs until the way should +be clear again. Two men were seated in a stone recess below him, also +waiting to pass. At first James noticed only the dress they wore; +their tall hats and sombre clothes marked them out as Baptists; the +younger man a deacon probably, and the elder a pastor. + +Presently James began to listen to their conversation. + +'It is well he is safe in the Castle,' said the younger man, 'most +pernicious Quaker doctrine did he deliver that Sabbath day in answer +to our questions in the Abbey.' + +'Pernicious Quaker doctrine!' James pricked up his ears at the words. +He settled himself comfortably to listen, without any scruples, seeing +that the speakers were in a public place, and besides, the entrance to +the bridge was by this time so packed with people that he could hardly +have moved off the parapet had he wished. + +The older man shook his head. 'I thought I had hewed him in pieces +before the Lord,' he said in a low voice, 'for no sooner was he silent +than I asked him if he knew what he spake, and what it was should be +damned at the last day. Whereat he did but fix his eyes upon me and +said that "it was that which spoke in me which should be damned." Even +as he spoke my old notions of religion glittered and fell off me, for +I knew that through him whom I despised as a wandering Quaker I was +listening to the Voice of God. He went on to upbraid me as a flashy +notionist and yet, even so, I was constrained to listen to him in +silence.' + +The pastor's voice had sunk very low: James could hardly catch the +last words. + +'Aye, no wonder,' rejoined the younger man, 'with those eyes he +seemeth to pierce the fleshly veil and to read the secrets of a man's +inmost heart. I, too, experienced this, the following market day, he +being then come to the market cross "a-publishing of truth" as he and +his followers term it, in their quaking jargon. The magistrates, godly +men, had sent the sergeants commanding them to stop his mouth. +Moreover, they had sent their wives as well, and even the sergeants +were less bitter against him than the women. For they declared that if +the Quaker dared to defile the noble market cross of Carlisle city by +preaching there, they themselves would pluck off the hair from his +head, while the sergeants should clap him into gaol. Nevertheless the +Quaker would not be stopped. Preach he did, standing forth boldly on +the high step of the cross.' + +'And what said he?' enquired the older man. + +'Right forcibly he declared judgment on all the market folk for their +deceitful ways. He spoke to the merchants as if he were a merchant +himself, beseeching them to lay aside their false weights and measures +and deceitful merchandize, with all cozening and cheating, and to +speak truth only to one another. Ever as he spoke, the people flocked +closer around him, hanging on his words as if he were reading their +secret hearts, so that the sergeants could not come nigh him for the +press to lead him away. Thus only when he had finished he stepped down +from the cross and would have passed gently away, but I and some of +the brethren, thinking that now our turn had come, followed after +him. The contention between us was sharp. Yet his words struck into me +like knives, and scarce knowing what I did, I cried out aloud, for a +strange power was over me. Thereat he fixed his eyes upon me and spake +sharply to me, as if he knew that I was resisting the Spirit of the +Lord. I know not why, but I was forced to cry out again, "Do not +pierce me so with thine eyes. Keep thine eyes off me."' + +'Well,' questioned the elder man, 'and what followed? Did his eyes +leave thee?' + +'They have never left me,' replied the other. 'Wherever I go those +eyes burn me yet, although the man himself lies fast in gaol among the +thieves and murderers, in the worst and most loathsome of the +dungeons. Thither I go every day to assure myself that he is fast +caged behind thick walls, and to rejoice my eyes with the sight of the +gibbet nailed high over-head upon the castle wall. Men say he shall +swing there soon, but of that I know not. Wilt thou come with me now, +for see, the bridge is free?' + +'Not I,' returned the pastor, moodily, as he shuffled away, like a man +ill at ease with himself. + +Little James, from his perch on the parapet, had drunk in greedily +every word of this conversation. Directly the bridge was clear he +crept down and followed the deacon like a shadow. They passed over the +silver Eden and up the main street of the city, paved with rough, +uneven stones, and with an open sewer flowing through the centre of +it. Right across the busy market-place they passed, before the deacon +halted beneath the castle walls. + +Full of noise and hubbub was Carlisle city that day; yet, as the two +entered the courtyard of the castle, James was aware of another +sound, rising clear above the tumult of the town--strains of music, +surely, that came from a fiddle. As they stepped under the inner +gateway and approached the Norman Keep, the fiddler himself came in +sight playing with might and main, under a barred window about six +feet from the ground. By the fiddler's side, urging him on, was a +huge, burly man with a red face. Whenever the fiddler showed signs of +weariness the man beside him raising a large tankard of ale to his +lips would force him to drink of it, saying, 'Play up, man! Play up!' + +The thin, clear strains of the fiddle rose up steadily towards the +barred window, but, above them, James caught another sound that +floated yet more steadily out through the bars: the firm, full tones +of a deep bass voice within, singing loud and strong. + +Though he could not see the singer, something in the song thrilled +James through and through. Forgetting his weariness he knew that he +was near his journey's end at last. As he listened, he noticed a +handful of people, listening also, under the barred window. + +Loud jeers arose: 'Play up, Fiddler!' 'Sing on, Quaker!' or even, 'Ply +him with more ale, Gaoler: the prisoner is the better musician!' + +At these cries the fat man's countenance grew ever more enraged. He +looked savage and huge, 'like a bear-ward,' a man more accustomed to +deal with bears than with human beings. Finally, in his wrath, he +turned the now empty tankard upon the crowd and bespattered them with +the last drops of the ale, and then called lustily for more, with +which he plied the fiddler anew. So the contest continued, but at +last, the ale perhaps taking effect, the fiddler's head dropped, his +bow swept the strings more wearily, while the strong notes inside the +dungeon grew ever more firm and loud. The gaoler seeing, or rather +hearing, himself worsted, caught the bow from the fiddler's hand and +cracked it over his skull. The fiddler, seizing this chance to escape, +leapt to his feet and dashed across the courtyard, followed by the +gaoler and the populace in full chase. Even the sombre Baptist deacon +gathered up the skirts of his long coat and bestirred his lean legs. +The singing ceased. A face appeared at the window: only for an +instant: but one glance was enough for James. + +Timidly he approached the window, but he had only taken two steps +towards it when he found himself firmly elbowed off the pavement and +pushed into the gutter. Someone else also had been watching for the +crowd to disperse, in order to have a chance of speaking with the +prisoner. The new-comer was a portly lady in a satin gown, a much +grander person than James had expected to find in the near +neighbourhood of a dungeon. She carried a large, covered basket, and, +as soon as the way was clear, she set it down on the pavement and +began to take out the contents carefully: bread and salt, beef and +elecampane ale. Without looking up from her work she called to the +unseen figure at the window above her head: 'So thou hast stopped +their vain sounds at length with thy singing?' + +'Aye,' answered the deep voice from within. 'Thou mayest safely +approach the window now, for the gaoler hath departed. After he had +beaten thee and the other Friends with his great cudgel, next he was +moved to beat me also, through the window, did I but come near to it +to get my meat. And as he struck me I was moved to sing in the Lord's +power, and that made him rage the more, whereat he fetched the +fiddler, saying he would soon drown my noise if I would not cease.' + +'Eat now, Dear Heart,' the woman interrupted, 'whilst thou hast the +chance.' So saying, she handed some of the dishes up to the prisoner, +standing herself on tiptoe beneath the prison window in order to reach +his hand stretched out through the bars. + +Here James saw his chance. + +'Madam,' he cried, 'let me hand the meat up to you.' + +The lady looked down and saw the worn, thin face. Perhaps she thought +the boy looked hungry enough to need the food himself, but something +in his eager glance touched her, and when he added, 'For I have come +one hundred and fifty miles to see GEORGE FOX,' her kind heart was +won. + +'Nay, then, thou hast a better right to help him even than I,' she +said, 'though I am his very good friend and Colonel Benson's wife. +Thou shall hand up the dishes to me, and when our friend is satisfied, +thou and I will finish what remains, for in the Lord's power I am +moved to eat no meat at my own house, but to share all my sustenance +with His faithful servant who lies within this noisome gaol.' + +'Madam,' said the boy, speaking with the concentrated intensity of +weeks of suppressed longing, 'for the food, it is no matter, though I +am much beholden to you. I hunger after but one thing. Bring me within +the gaol where I may speak with him face to face. There is that, that +I have come afoot a hundred miles to ask him. + +'Bring me to him, speedily I pray you, for, though even unseen I love +him, + + 'I MUST SEE GEORGE FOX.' + + + + +XVIII. THE FIRST QUAKER MARTYR + + + + + (_From another point of view._) + + _Extracts from the Diary of the + Rev. Ralph Josselin, Vicar of Earls + Colne, Essex._ + + _1655.--'Preacht at Gaines Coln, + the Quakers' nest, but no + disturbance. God hath raised up my + heart not to fear but willing to + bear and to make opposition to + their ways, in defence of truth.'_ + + _Ap. 11, 1656.--'Heard this morning + that James Parnell, the father of + the Quakers in these parts, having + undertaken to fast forty days and + forty nights was in the morning + found dead. He was by jury found + guilty of his own death and buried + in the Castle yard.'_ + + _'Heard and true that Turner's + daughter was distract in the + Quaking business.'_ + + _'Sad are the fits at Coxall, like + the pow-wowing among the Indians.'_ + + _1660.--'The Quakers, after a stop + and a silence, seem to be swarming + and increased, and why, Lord thou + only knowest!'_ + + + _'So there is no obtaining of Life + but through Death, nor no + obtaining the Crown but through + the Cross.'--JAMES PARNELL._ + + + + +XVIII. THE FIRST QUAKER MARTYR + + +How Mrs. Benson managed it, there is no record. Perhaps she hardly +knew herself! But she was not a woman to be easily turned aside from +her purpose, and her husband, Colonel Gervase Benson, had been one of +the 'considerable people' in the County before he had turned Quaker +and 'downed those things.' Even after the change, it may be that +prison doors were more easily unlocked by certain little golden and +silver keys in those days, than they are in our own. + +Anyway, somehow or other, the interview was arranged. 'Little James' +found his desire fulfilled at last. When he passed into the stifling, +crowded prison den, where human beings were herded together like +beasts, he never heeded the horrible stench or the crawling vermin +that abounded everywhere. Rather, he felt as if he were entering the +palace of a king. He paid no attention to the crowd of savage figures +all around him. He saw nothing, knew nothing, felt nothing, until at +last he found that his hand was lying in the grasp of a stronger, +firmer hand, that held it, and would not let it go. Then, indeed, for +the first time he looked up, and knew that his long journey was ended, +as he met the penetrating gaze of George Fox. + +'Keep thine eyes off me, they pierce me,' the Baptist Deacon had +cried, a few weeks before, in that same city. As James looked up, he +too felt for the first time the piercing power of those eyes, but to +him it brought no terror, only joy, as he yielded himself wholly to +his teacher's scrutiny. In silence the two stood, reading each the +other's soul. James felt, instinctively, that his new friend knew and +understood everything that had happened to him, all his life long; +that there was no need to tell him anything, or to explain anything. + +Of an older friendship between two men it was written, 'Thy love to me +was wonderful, passing the love of women.' Thus it proved once more in +that crowded dungeon. No details remain of the interview; no record of +what James said, or what George said. No one else could have reported +what passed between them, and, though each of them has left a mention +of their first meeting, the silence remains unbroken. + +The Journal says merely: 'While I was in ye dungeon at Carlisle, a +little boy, one James Parnell, about fifteen years old, came to me, +and he was convinced and came to be a very fine minister and turned +many to Christ.' + +The boy's own account is shorter still. He does not even mention +George Fox by name. 'I was called for,' he says, 'to visit some +friends in the North part of England, with whom I had union before I +saw their faces, and afterwards I returned to my outward +dwelling-place.' + +His 'outward dwelling-place': the lad's frail body might tramp back +along the weary miles to Retford; his spirit remained in the North, +freely imprisoned with his friend. + +'George' and 'James' were brothers in heart, ever after that short +interview in Carlisle Gaol: united in one inseparable purpose. While +George was confined, James, the free brother, must carry forward +George's work. Triumphantly he did it. By the following year he had +earned his place right well among the 'Valiant Sixty' who were then +sent forth, 'East and West and South and North,' to 'Publish Truth.' + +The Eastern Counties, hitherto almost unbroken ground, fell to James's +share. Assisted by two other 'Valiants,' Richard Hubberthorne and +George Whitehead, the seed was scattered throughout the length and +breadth of East Anglia. Within three short years 'gallant Meetings' +were already gathered and settled everywhere. + +James Parnell was the first Quaker preacher to enter the city of +Colchester, which was soon to rank third among the strongholds of +Quakerism. This boy of eighteen, still so small and delicate in +appearance that his enemies taunted him with the name of 'little +Quaking lad,' has left an account of one of his first crowded days of +work in that city. In the morning, he says, he received any of the +townspeople who were minded to come and ask him questions at his +lodgings. He was a guest, at the time, of a weaver named Thomas +Shortland, who, with his wife Ann, had been convinced shortly before, +by their guest's ministry. In adversity also they were soon to prove +themselves tried and faithful friends. + +Later, that same Sunday morning (4th July 1655), James went down the +High Street to Saint Nicholas' Church, and, when the sermon was ended, +preached to the people in his turn. + +In the afternoon 'he addressed a very great meeting of about a +thousand people, in John Furly's yard, he being mounted above the +crowd and speaking out of a hay-chamber window.' Still later, that +same day, he not only carried on a discussion with 'the town-lecturer +and another priest,' he, the boy of eighteen, but also 'appeared in +the evening at a previously advertised meeting held in the schoolroom +for the children of the French and Flemish weaver refugees in +Colchester, who were being at this time hospitably entertained in John +Furly's house.'[28] + +George Fox says, 'many hundreds of people were convinced by the words +and labours of this young minister.' But, far better than preaching to +other people, he had by this time learned to rule his own spirit. +Once, as he was coming out of the 'Steeple-house of Colchester, called +Nicholas,' one person in particular struck him with a great staff and +said to him, 'Take that for Jesus Christ's sake,' to whom James +Parnell meekly replied, 'Friend, I do receive it for Jesus Christ's +sake.' + +The journey his soul had travelled from the time, only three short +years before, when he had described his neighbours as 'the heathen +round about,' until the day that he could give such an answer was +perhaps a longer one really than all the weary miles he had traversed +between Retford and far Carlisle. + +The two friends, George and James, had one short happy time of service +together, both of them free. After that they parted. Then, all too +soon it was George's turn to visit James, now himself in prison at +Colchester Castle, an even more terrible prison than Carlisle, where +only death could open the doors and set the weary prisoner free. +George's record of his visit to his friend is short and grim. 'As I +went through Colchester,' he says, 'I went to visit James Parnell in +prison, but the cruel gaoler would hardly let us come in or stay with +him, and there the gaoler's wife threatened to have his blood, and +there they did destroy him.' + +An account, written by his Colchester friends, expands the terrible, +glorious tale of his sufferings. + +'The first Messenger of the Lord that appeared in this town to sound +the everlasting Gospel was that eminent Minister and Labourer, James +Parnell, whose first coming to ye town was in ye fourth month (June) +in the year 1655.... Great were the sufferings which this faithful +minister of the Lord underwent, being beat and abused by many. + +'As touching the cause of his sufferings in this his last imprisonment +unto death, which was the fruits of a fast kept at Great Coggeshall +against error (as they said), the 12th day of the fifth month 1655, +where he spoke some words when the priests had done speaking; and when +he was gone out of the high place one followed him, called Justice +Wakering, and clapt him on the back and said he arrested him. And so, +by the means of divers Independent priests and others, he was +committed to this prison at Colchester. And in that prison he was kept +close up, and his friends and acquaintance denied to come at him. Then +at the Assizes he was carried to Chelmsford, about eighteen miles +through the country, as a sport or gazing-stock, locked on a chain +with five accused for felony and murder, and he with three others +remained on the chain day and night. But when he appeared at the Bar, +he was taken off the chain, only had irons on his hands, where he +appeared before Judge Hill ... the first time. But seeing some cried +out against this cruelty, and what shame it would be to let the irons +be seen on him, the next day they took them off, and he appeared +without, where the priests and justices were the accusers. And the +judge gathered what he could out of what they said, to make what he +could against the prisoner to the jury, and urged them to find him +guilty, lest it fall upon their own heads.... And when he would have +spoken truth for himself to inform the jury, the judge would not +permit him thereto. So the judge fined him about twice twenty marks, +or forty pounds, and said the Lord Protector had charged him to see to +punish such persons as should contemn either Magistracy or Ministry. +So he committed him close prisoner till payment, and gave the jailor +charge to let no giddy-headed people come at him; for his friends and +those that would have done him good were called "giddy-headed people," +and so kept out; and such as would abuse him by scorning or beating, +those they let in and set them on. And the jailor's wife would set her +man to beat him, who threatened to knock him down and make him shake +his heels, yea, the jailor's wife did beat him divers times, and swore +she would have his blood, or he should have hers. To which he +answered, "Woman, I would not have thine."'[29] + +One of James' own letters remains written about this time: 'The day I +came in from the Assize,' he says, 'there was a friend or two with me +in the jaylor's house, and the jaylor's wife sent her man to call me +from them and to put me into a yard, and would not suffer my friends +to come at me. And one friend brought me water, and they would not +suffer her to come to me, but made her carry it back again.' + +The name of this woman Friend is not given in this letter, but I +daresay we shall not be far wrong if we fill it in for ourselves here, +and think of her as the same Anne Langley, who would not be kept out +of the prison later on. Other people mention her by name. It is only +in little James' own account that her name does not appear. Perhaps +the tie that bound them was something more than friendship, and he did +not wish her to suffer for her love and faith. + +James' letter continues: 'At night they locked me up into a hole with +a condemned man ... and the same day a friend desired the jaylor's +wife that she would let her come and speak with me, and the jaylor's +wife answered her and the other friends who were with her, calling +them "Rogues, witches ... and the devil's dish washers" ... and other +names, and saying "that they had skipped out of hell when the devil +was asleep!" and much more of the same unchristian-like speeches which +is too tedious to relate.... And thus they make a prey upon the +innocent; and when they do let any come to me they would not let them +stay but very little,' (Poor James! the visits were all too short, and +the lonely hours alone all too long for the prisoner) 'and the +jaylor's wife would threaten to pull them down the stairs.... And +swore that she would have my blood several times, and told my friends +so, and that she would mark my face, calling me witch and rogue, shake +hell ... and the like; and because I did reprove her for her +wickedness, the jaylor hath given order that none shall come to me at +any occasion, but only one or two that brings my food.' + +Even this small mercy was not to be allowed much longer. The account +of the Colchester Friend continues: 'And sometimes they would stop any +from bringing him victuals, and set the prisoners to take his victuals +from him; and when he would have had a trundle bed to have kept him +off the stones, they would not suffer friends to bring him one, but +forced him to lie on the stones, which sometimes would run down with +water in a wet season. And when he was in a room for which he paid 4d. +a night, he was threatened, if he did but walk to and fro in it, by +the jaylor's wife. Then they put him in a hole in the wall, very high, +where the ladder was too short by about six foot, and when friends +would have given him a cord and basket to have taken up his victuals, +he was denied thereof and could not be suffered to have it, though it +was much desired, but he must either come up and down by that rope, or +else famish in the hole, which he did a long time, before God suffered +them to see their desires in which time much means was used about it, +but their wills were unalterably set in cruelty towards him. But after +long suffering in this hole, where there was nought but misery as to +the outward man, being no hole either for air or for smoke, being much +benumbed in the naturals, as he was climbing up the ladder with his +victuals in one hand, and coming to the top of the ladder, catching at +the rope with the other hand, missed the rope, and fell a very great +height upon stones, by which fall he was exceedingly wounded in the +head and arms, and his body much bruised, and taken up for dead, but +did recover again that time. + +'Then they put him in a low hole called the oven, and much like an +oven, and some have said who have been in it that they have seen a +baker's oven much bigger, except for the height of the roof, without +the least airhole or window for smoke and air, nor would they suffer +him to have a little charcoal brought in by friends to prevent the +noisome smoke. Nor would they suffer him, after he was a little +recovered, to take a little air upon the castle wall, which was but +once desired by the prisoner, feeling himself spent for want of +breath. All which he bore with much patience and still kept his +suffering much from friends there, seeing they was much sorrowful to +see it. Yea, others who were no friends were wounded at the sight of +his usage in many other particulars, which we forbear here to mention. + +'And divers came to see him, who heard of his usage from far, not +being friends, had liberty to see him, who was astonished at his +usage, and some of them would say "IF THIS BE THE USAGE OF THE +PROTECTOR'S PRISONERS IT WERE BETTER TO BE ANYBODY'S PRISONERS THAN +HIS," as Justice Barrington's daughter said, who saw their cruelty to +him. And many who came to see him were moved with pity to the +creature, for his sufferings were great.' + +'And although some did offer of their bond of forty pounds [to pay the +fine and so set him at liberty] and one to lie body for body, that he +might come to their house till he was a little recovered, yet they +would not permit it, and it being desired that he might but walk in +the yard, it was answered he should not walk so much as to the castle +door. And the door being once opened, he did but take the freedom to +walk forth in a close, stinking yard before the door, and the gaoler +came in a rage and locked up the hole where he lay, and shut him out +in the yard all night in the coldest time of the winter. So, finding +that nothing but his blood would satisfy them, great application was +made to them in a superior authority but to no purpose. Thus he having +endured about ten months' imprisonment, and having passed through many +trials and exercises, which the Lord enabled him to bear with courage +and faithfulness, he laid down his head in peace and died a prisoner +and faithful Martyr for the sake of the Truth, under the hands of a +persecuting generation in the year 1656.'[30] + +It was his former host, Thomas Shortland the weaver, who had offered +to lie 'body for body' in prison, if only James might be allowed to +return to his house and be nursed back to health again there. After +the boy's death this kind man wrote as follows: + +'Dear Friend--In answer to thine, is this, James Parnell being dead, +the Coroner sent an officer for me, and one Anne Langley, a friend, +who both of us watched with him that night that he departed. And +coming to him [the Coroner] he said, "that it was usual when any died +in prison, to have a jury got on them," and James being dead, and he +hearing we two watched with him, he sent for us to hear what we could +say concerning his death, whether he died on his fair death [_i.e._ a +natural death] or whether he were guilty of his own death.... He asked +whether he had his senses and how he behaved himself late-ward toward +his departure. I answered that he had his senses and that he spake +sensibly, and to as good understanding as he used to do. He then +enquired what words he spoke. To which Anne Langley answered that she +heard him say, "HERE I DIE INNOCENTLY," and she said that she had been +at the departing of many, but never was where was such sweet +departing; and at his departing his last words were, "NOW I MUST GO," +and turned his head to me and said, "THOMAS, THIS DEATH I MUST DIE," +and further said, "O THOMAS, I HAVE SEEN GREAT THINGS," and bade me +that I should not hold him, but let him go, and said it over again, +"WILL YOU NOT HOLD ME?" And then said Anne, "Dear Heart, we will not +hold thee." And he said, "NOW I GO," and stretched out himself, and +fell into a sweet sleep and slept about an hour (as he often said, +that one hour's sleep would cure him of all), and so drew breath no +more.' + + * * * * * + +Little James was free at last. He had left his frail, weary body +behind and had departed on the longest, shortest journey of all. A +journey this, ending in no noisome den in Carlisle Castle, as when he +first saw the earthly teacher he had loved so long, but leading +straight and swift to the heavenly abiding-places: to the welcome of +his unseen yet Everlasting Friend. + + 'How know I that it looms lovely, that land I have never seen, + With morning-glory and heartsease, and unexampled green? + All souls singing, seeing, rejoicing everywhere, + Yea, much more than this I know, for I know that Christ + is there.'[31] + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[28] _James Parnell_, by C. Fell Smith. + +[29] 'Lamb's Defence against Lyes.' + +[30] _First Publishers of Truth_. + +[31] Christina Rossetti. + + + + +XIX. THE CHILDREN OF READING MEETING + + + + + _'And all must be meeke, sober and + jentell and quiet and loving, and + not give one another bad word noe + time in the skouell, nor out of it + ... all is to mind their lessons + and be digelent in their + rightings, and to lay up their + boukes when they go from the + skouell and ther pens and + inkonerns and to keep them sow, + else they must be louk'd upon as + carles and slovenes; and soe you + must keep all things clean, suet + and neat and hanson.'--G. FOX. + Advice to Schoolmasters._ + + + _'Dear and tender little Babes, as + well as strong men, ... let not + anything straiten you, when God + moves: And thou, faithful Babe, + though thou stutter and stammer + forth a few words in the dread of + the Lord, they are accepted, and + all that are strong, serve the + weak in strengthening them and + wait in wisdom to give place to + the motion of the Spirit in them, + that it may have time to bring + forth what God hath given ... that + ... you maybe a well spring of + Life to one another in the power + of the endless love of God.'--W. + DEWSBURY._ + + + _'When the Justices threatened + Friend John Boult and told him + that he and other Reading Friends + should be sent to prison, he + replied: "That's the weakest thing + thou canst do. If thou canst + convince me of anything that is + evil, I will hear thee and let the + prisons alone."'--W.C. BRAITHWAITE._ + + + + +XIX. THE CHILDREN OF READING MEETING + + +It was a most uncomfortable First Day morning. The children looked at +each other and wondered what would happen next, as they stood in the +small bedroom under the thatched roof. Dorcas, the eldest, already +half dressed, held Baby Stephen in her arms; but the twins, Tryphena +and Tryphosa, were running about the floor with bare feet and only +their petticoats on, strings and tapes all flying loose. Baby was +crying, whilst the Twins shouted with mischievous glee. Something must +be done. So Dorcas seated herself in a big chair and tried to dress +Baby. But Baby was hungry. He wanted his breakfast and he did not at +all want to be dressed! Oh, if only Mother was here! Where was Mother +all this long time? Had she and Father really been taken to prison? +Dorcas felt heart-sick at the thought. Happily the Twins and Baby were +too little to understand. She herself was nearly ten and therefore +almost grown up. She understood now all about it quite well. This was +what Mother had meant when she bent down to kiss her little girl in +bed last night, saying that she was going out to a Meeting at Friend +Curtis' house, hoping to be back in an hour or two. 'But if not'--here +Dorcas remembered that Mother's eyes had filled with tears. She had +left the sentence unfinished, adding only: 'Anyway, I know I can trust +thee, Dorcas, to be a little mother to the little ones while I am +away.' 'But if not....' Dorcas had been too sleepy last night to +think what the words meant, or to keep awake until Mother's return. It +seemed as if she had only just closed her eyes for a minute or two; +and yet, when she opened them again, the bright morning sunlight was +filling the room. + +'But if not....' After all, there had been no need for Mother to +finish the sentence. Now that Dorcas was wide awake she could complete +it for herself only too well. For Dorcas knew that at any moment a +Meeting of five or more persons who met to practise a form of worship +not authorized by law might be rudely interrupted by the constables, +and all the Friends who were sitting in silence together dragged off +to prison for disobeying the Quaker Act. Since that Act had been +passed in this same month of May 1662, Quaker children understood that +this might happen at any moment, but of course each child hoped that +it would not happen just yet, or at least not to his own Father and +Mother. But now apparently it had happened here in peaceful Reading +beside the broad Thames. + +Last night's Meeting had been fixed at an unusually late hour. For, as +the late Spring evenings were lengthening, the Reading Quakers had +wished to take advantage of the long May twilight to gather together +and meet with a Friend, one of the Valiant Sixty, who had come in for +a few hours unexpectedly on his way to London. So the children had +fallen asleep as usual, fully expecting to find their parents beside +them when they woke. But now the empty places and the unslept-in beds +told their own tale. + +'Be a mother to the little ones, Dorcas,' Mother had said. Well, +Dorcas was trying her very best, but it was not easy. Baby had many +strings to tie and many buttons to fasten, and just as she was getting +the very last button safely into its button-hole the Twins came +running up to say that they had got into each other's clothes by +mistake and could not get out of them again. This was serious; for +though Phenie's frock was only a little too big for Phosie, Phosie's +frock was much too small for Phenie. + +Dorcas was obliged to put Baby down to attend to them; but this +reminded Baby that he had still not been provided with his +much-desired breakfast, whereupon he began to howl, till Dorcas took +him up in her arms again, and dandled him as Mother did. This made him +crow for happiness, just as he did when Mother took him, so for a few +minutes Dorcas was happy too, till she saw that the Twins were now +beginning to squabble again, and to tear out each other's hair with +the comb. At that unlucky moment up came brother Peter's big voice +calling from below, 'Dorcas, Dorcas, what are you all doing up there? +Why is not breakfast ready? I have milked the cow for you. You must +come down this very minute; I am starving!' + +It was an uncomfortable morning; and the worst of it was that it was +First Day morning too. Dorcas had not known before that a First Day +morning could be uncomfortable. Usually First Day was the happiest day +in the whole week. Mother's hands were so gentle that, though the +children had been taught to help themselves as soon as they were old +enough, still Mother always seemed to know just when there was an +unruly button that needed a little coaxing to help it to find its +hole, or a string that wanted to get into a knot that ought to be +persuaded to tie itself into a bow. + +Then breakfast was always a pleasant meal, with the big blue bowls +full of milk, warm from the cow, set out on the wooden table, and +Father sitting at one end raising his hand as he said a silent Grace. +Father never said any words at these times. But he bent his head as if +he were thanking Someone he loved very much, Someone close beside him, +for giving him the milk and bread to give to the children and for +making him very happy. So the children felt happy too. Dorcas thought +that the brown bread always tasted especially good on First Day +morning, because Father was at the head of the table to cut it and +hand it to them himself. On other, week-day, mornings he had to go off +much earlier, ploughing, or reaping, or gathering in the ripe corn +from the harvest-fields behind the farm. Also, Peter never teased the +little ones when Father was there. But to-day if there were no +breakfast, (and where was breakfast to come from?) Peter would be +dreadfully cross. Yet how could Dorcas go and get breakfast for Peter +when the three little ones were all wanting her help at once? + +'I'm coming, Peter, as fast as ever I can,' she called back, in answer +to a second yet more peremptory summons. But, oh! how glad she was to +hear a gentle knock at the door of the thatched cottage a minute or +two later. + +'Come in! come in!' she heard Peter saying joyfully as he opened the +door, and then came the sound of light footsteps on the wooden stairs. +Another minute, and the bedroom door opened gently, and a sunshiny +face looked into the children's untidy room. + +'Why, it is thee, Hester!' Dorcas exclaimed, with a cry of joy. 'Oh, I +am glad to see thee! And how glad Mother would be to know thou wert +here.' + +The girl who entered was both taller and older than Dorcas. She was a +well-loved playfellow evidently, for Tryphena and Tryphosa toddled +towards her across the room at once, to be caught up in her arms and +kissed. + +'Of course, it is I, Dorcas,' she answered promptly. 'Who else should +it be? Prudence and I determined that we would come over and try to +help thee as soon as we could. We brought a basket of provisions too, +in case you were short. Prudence is helping Peter to set out breakfast +in the kitchen now, so we must hasten.' + +Life often becomes easy when you are two, however difficult it may +have been when you were only one! With Hester to help, the dressing +was finished at lightning speed. Yet, when the children came down to +the kitchen, Prudence and Peter already had the fire blazing away +merrily; the warm milk was foaming in the bowls. The hungry children +thought, as they drank it up, that never before had breakfast tasted +so good. + +'Hester, what made thee think of coming?' Dorcas asked a little later, +when, Baby's imperious needs being satisfied, she was able to begin +her own breakfast, while he drummed an accompaniment on the back of +her hand with a wooden spoon. 'How did the news reach thee? Or have +they taken thy Father and Mother away too? Have all the Friends gone +to gaol this time?' + +Hester nodded. Her bright face clouded for a moment or two. Then she +resolutely brushed the cloud away. + +'Yea, in truth, Dorcas,' she answered. 'I fear much that only we +children are left. Anyhow, thy parents and mine are taken, and the +others as well most like. My Father had warning from a trusty source +that he and other Friends had best not meet in Thomas Curtis' house +last night. But he is never one to be turned aside from his purpose, +thou knows. So he took me between his knees and said, "Hester, dear +maid, thy mother and I must go. 'Tis none of our choosing. If we are +taken, fear not for us, nor for thyself and Prue. Only seek to nourish +and care for the tender babes in the other houses, whence Friends are +likely to be taken also." Therefore I hastened hither to help thee, +Dorcas, bringing Prudence with me, partly because I love thee, and +thou art mine own dear friend, but also because it was my Father's +command. If I can be of service to thee, perhaps he will pat my head +when he returns out of gaol and say, as he doth sometimes, "I knew I +could trust thee, my Hester."' + +'Will they be long in prison, dost thou think?' asked Dorcas, with a +tremor in her voice. She was always an anxious-minded little girl, and +inclined to look on the gloomy side of things, whereas Hester was +sunshine itself. + +'Who can say?' answered Hester, and again even her bright face +clouded. 'The Justices are sure to tender to them the oath, but since +they follow Him who commanded, "Swear not at all," how can they take +it?' + +'Then, if they refuse, they will be said to be out of the King's +protection, and the Justices and the gaolers may do with them as they +will,' added Peter doggedly. + +At these words Hester, seeing that Dorcas looked very sorrowful and +almost ready to cry, checked Peter suddenly, and said, 'At any rate, +we can but hope for the best. And now we must hasten, or we shall be +late for Meeting.' + +'Meeting?' Dorcas looked up in surprise. 'I thought thou saidst that +all the Friends had been taken.' + +'All the men and women, yes,' answered Hester; 'but we children are +left. We know what our Fathers and Mothers would have us do.' + +Here Peter broke in, 'Yes, of course, Dorcas, we must go to show them +that Friends are not cowards, and that we will keep up our Meetings +come what may. Dost thou not mind what friend Thomas Curtis' wife, +Mistress Nan, has often told us of her father, the Sheriff of Bristol? +How he was hung before his own door, because men said he was +endeavouring to betray the city to Prince Rupert, and thus serve his +king in banishment. Shall we be less loyal than he?' + +'Loyal to our King, Dorcas,' added Hester gently. + +Dorcas hesitated no longer. + +'Thou art right, Hester,' she answered, 'and Peter, thou art right +too. We will go all together. I had forgotten. Of course children as +well as grown-up people can wait upon God.' + + * * * * * + +The children arrived at the Friends' usual meeting place, only to find +it locked and strongly guarded. They went on, undismayed, to Friend +Lamboll's orchard, but, there also, two heavy padlocks, sealed with +the King's seal, were upon the green gate. An old goody from a cottage +hard by waved them away. 'Be off, children! Here is no place for you,' +she said; adding not unkindly, 'your parents were taken near here +yester eve, and the officers of the law are still prowling round. This +orchard is sure to be one of the first places they will visit.' + +Then seeing the tired look on Dorcas' face, as she turned to go, with +heavy Stephen in her arms: 'Here, give the babe to me,' she said, +'I'll care for him this forenoon. Thy mother managed to get a word +with me last night as the officers dragged her away, and I promised +her I would do what I could to help you, though you be Quakers and I +hold to the Church. See, he'll be safe in this cradle while you go and +play, though it is forty years and more since it held a babe of my +own.' + +Very thankfully Dorcas laid Stephen, now sleeping peacefully, down in +the oaken cradle in the old woman's flagged kitchen. Then she ran off +to join the others assembled at a little distance from the orchard +gate. By this time a few more children had joined them: two or three +girls, and four or five older boys. + +Where were they to meet? The sight of the closed house, and the sealed +gate, even the mention of the officers of the law, far from +frightening the children, had only made them more than ever clear +that, somewhere or other, the Meeting must be held. + +At length one of the elder boys suggested 'My father's granary?' The +very place!--they all agreed: so thither the little flock of children +trooped. The granary was a large building of grey stone lighted only +by two mullioned windows high up in the walls. In Queen Elizabeth's +days these windows had lighted the small rooms of an upper storey, but +now the dividing floor had been removed to make more room for the +grain which lay piled up as high as the roof over more than half the +building. But, at one end, there was an empty space on the floor, and +here the children seated themselves on scattered bundles of hay. + +Quietly Meeting began. At first some of the children peeped up at one +another anxiously under their eyelids. It felt very strange somehow to +be gathering together in silence alone without any grown-up people. +Were they really doing right? Dorcas' heart began to beat rather +nervously, and a hot flush dyed her cheek, until she looked across at +Hester sitting opposite, and was calmed by the peaceful expression of +the elder girl's face. Hester's hood had fallen back upon her +shoulders. Her fair hair, slightly ruffled, shone like a halo of pale +gold against the grey stone wall of the granary. Her blue eyes were +looking up, up at the blue sky, far away beyond the high window. + +'Hester looks happy, almost as if she were listening to something,' +Dorcas said to herself, 'something that comforts her although we are +all sad.' Then, settling herself cosily down into the hay, 'Now I will +try to listen for comfort too.' + +A few moments later the silence was broken by a half-whispered prayer +from a dark corner of the granary, 'Our dear, dear parents! help them +to be brave and faithful, and make us all brave and faithful too.' + +None of the boys and girls looked round to see who had spoken, for +the words seemed to come from the deepest place in their own hearts. + +Swiftly and speedily the children's prayer was answered. Help was +given to them, but they needed every scrap of their courage and faith +during the next half-hour. Almost before the last words of the prayer +died away, a loud noise was heard and the tramp of heavy feet coming +round the granary wall. The officers of the law were upon them: 'What, +yet another conventicle of these pestilential heretics to be broken +up?' shouted a wrathful voice. The next moment the door was roughly +burst open, and in the doorway appeared a much dreaded figure, no less +a person than Sir William Armorer himself, Justice of the Peace and +Equerry to the King. None of the children had any very clear idea as +to the meaning of that word 'equerry'; therefore it always filled them +with a vague terror of unknown possibilities. In after years, whenever +they heard it they saw again an angry man with a florid face, dressed +in a suit of apple-green satin slashed with gold, standing in a +doorway and wrathfully shaking a loaded cane over their heads. + +'Yet more of ye itching to be laid by the ears in gaol!' shouted this +apparition as he entered and slammed the heavy wooden door behind him. +But an expression of amazement followed when he was once inside the +room. + +'Brats! By my life! Quaker brats! and none beside them!' he exclaimed +astonished, as he looked round the band of children. 'Quaker brats +holding a conventicle of their own, as if they were grown men and +women! Having stopped the earth and gaoled the fox, must we now deal +with the litter? Look you here, do you want a closer acquaintance +with this?' + +With these words, he pointed his loaded stick at each of the children +in turn and drew out a sharp iron point concealed in one end of it, +and began to slash the air. Then, changing his mind again, he went +back to the door and called out to his followers in the passage +outside, 'Here, men, we will let the maidens go, but you must teach +these lads what it is to disobey the law, or I'm no Justice of His +Majesty's Peace.' + +Even in that moment of terror the children wondered not only at the +loud angry voice but at the unfamiliar scent that filled the room. The +air, which had been pure and fragrant with the smell of hay, was now +heavy and loaded with essences and perfumes. Well it might be, for +though the children knew it not, the flowing lovelocks of the curly +wig that descended to the Justice's shoulders had been scented that +very morning with odours of ambergris, musk, and violet, orris root, +orange flowers, and jessamine, as well as others besides. The stronger +scents of kennel and stable, and even of ale and beer, that filled the +room as the constables trooped into it were almost a relief to the +children, because they at least were familiar, and unlike the other +strange, sickly fragrance. + +The constables seized the boys, turned them out into the road, and +there punched and beat them with their own staffs and the Justice's +loaded stick until they were black in the face. The girls were driven +in a frightened bunch down the lane. Only Hester sat on in her place, +still and unmoved, sheltering the Twins in her bosom and holding her +hands over their eyes. Up to her came the angry Justice in a fine +rage, until it seemed as if the perfumed wig must almost touch her +smooth plaits of hair. Then, at last, Hester moved, but not in time to +prevent the Justice seizing her by the shoulder and flinging her down +the road after the others. Her frightened charges, torn from her arms, +still clung to her skirts, while the full-grown men strode along after +them, threatening to duck them all in the pond if they made the +slightest resistance, and did not at once disperse to their homes. + +It certainly was neither a comfortable thing nor a pleasant thing to +be a Quaker child in those stormy days. + +Nevertheless, pleasant or unpleasant, comfortable or uncomfortable, +made no difference. It was thanks to the courage of this handful of +boys and girls that, in spite of the worst that Mr. Justice Armorer +could do, in spite of the dread of him and his constables, in spite of +his angry face, of his scented wig and loaded cane, in spite of all +these things,--still, Sunday after Sunday, through many a long anxious +month, God was worshipped in freedom and simplicity in the town by +silver Thames. Reading Meeting was held. + +Meantime, throughout these same long months, within the prison walls +the fathers and mothers prayed for their absent children. Although +apart from one another, the two companies were not really separated; +for both were listening to the same Shepherd's voice. Until, at last, +the happy day came when the gaol-doors were opened and the prisoners +released. Then, oh the kissing and the hugging! the crying and the +blessing! as the parents heard of all the children had undergone in +order to keep faithful and true! That was indeed the most joyful +meeting of all! + +Thankfulness and joy last freshly through the centuries, as an old +letter, written at that time by one of the fathers to George Fox still +proves to us to-day: 'Our little children kept the meetings up, when +we were all in prison, notwithstanding that wicked Justice when he +came and found them there, with a staff that had a spear in it would +pull them out of the Meeting, and punch them in the back till some of +them were black in the face ... his fellow is not, I believe, to be +found in all England a Justice of the Peace.' + + * * * * * + +'For they might as well think to hinder the Sun from shining, or the +tide from flowing, as to think to hinder the Lord's people from +meeting to wait upon Him.' + + + + +XX. THE SADDEST STORY OF ALL + + + + + _'Take heed of forward minds, and + of running out before your guide, + for that leads out into looseness; + and such plead for liberty, and + run out in their wills and bring + dishonour to the Lord.'..._ + + _'And take heed if under a pretence + of Liberty you do not ... set up + that both in yourselves and on + others that will be hard to get + down again.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'The Truth in this city spreads + and flourisheth; many large + meetings we have, and great ones + of the world come to them, and are + much tendered. James is fitted for + this great place, and a great love + is begotten towards him'--A. + PARKER to M. Fell, 1655 (from + London, before Nayler's fall)._ + + + _'His forebearing in due time to + testify against the folly of those + his followers (who magnified him) + was his great weakness and loss of + judgment, and brought the greatest + suffering upon him, Poor Man! + Though when he was delivered out + of the snare, he did condemn all + their wild and mad actions towards + him and judged himself also. + Howbeit our adversaries and + persecutors unjustly took occasion + thereupon, to triumph and insult, + and to reproach and roar against + Quakers, though as a People (they + were) wholly unconcerned and clear + from those offences.'--G. WHITEHEAD._ + + + _'And so His will is my + peace.'--JAMES NAYLER._ + + + + +XX. THE SADDEST STORY OF ALL + +BUT IT HAS A HAPPY END + + +Children--come close. Let us hold hands and gather round the fire. +This story must be told in the twilight, while the room is all dark +except for the dim glow of the coals. Then, if a few tears do run down +our cheeks--no one will see them. And presently the lamp will come in, +the darkness will vanish, and the story will end happily--as most +stories do if we could only carry them on far enough. What makes the +sadness to us, often, is that we only see such a little bit of the +way. + +This is the story of a man who made terrible mistakes, and suffered a +terrible punishment. But, through his sufferings, and perhaps even +through the great mistakes he made, he learned some lessons that he +might never have learned in any other way. His name was James Nayler. +He was born in 1616, and was the son of a well-to-do farmer in +Yorkshire. He was 'educated in good English,' and learned to write and +speak well. His early life seems to have been uneventful. At the age +of 22 he married, and settled near Wakefield with his young wife, +Anne. After a few years of happy married life, the long dispute +between King Charles and his Parliament finally broke out into Civil +War. The old peaceful life of the countryside was at an end. +Everywhere men were called upon to take sides and to arm. James Nayler +was one of the first to answer that call. He enlisted in the +Parliamentary Army under Lord Fairfax, and spent the next nine or ten +years as a soldier. Under General Lambert he rose to be quartermaster, +and the prospect of attaining still higher military rank was before +him when his health broke down and he was obliged to return home. + +A little later he made a friend. One eventful Sunday in 1652 'the Man +in Leather Breeches' visited Wakefield, and came to the +'Steeple-house' where Nayler had been accustomed to worship with his +family. Directly the sermon was finished, all the people in the church +pointed at the Stranger, and called him to come up to the priest. Fox +rose, as his custom was, and began to 'declare the word of life.' He +went on to say that he thought the priest who had been preaching had +been deceiving his hearers in some parts of his sermon. Naturally the +priest who had spoken did not like this, and although some of the +congregation agreed with Fox, and felt that 'they could have listened +to him for ever,' most of the people hated the Stranger for his words. +They rushed at Fox, punching and beating him; then, crying, 'Let us +have him in the stocks!' they thrust him out of the door of the +church. Once in the cool fresh air, however, the crowd became less +violent. Their mood changed. Instead of hustling their unresisting +visitor through the town and clapping him into the stocks, they loosed +their hold of him and suffered him to go quietly away. + +As he departed, George Fox came upon another group of people assembled +at a little distance. These were the men and women who had listened to +him gladly in church, who now wished to hear more of the new truths he +had been declaring. Among them was James Nayler, a man older than +Fox, who had been convinced by him a year earlier. This second visit, +however, clinched Nayler's allegiance to his new friend. Possibly, +having been a soldier himself, he began by admiring Fox's courage. +Here was a man who refused to strike a single blow in self-defence. He +was apparently quite ready to let the angry mob do what they would, +and yet in the end he managed to quell their rage by the force of his +own spiritual power. The Journal simply says that a great many people +were convinced that day of the truth of the Quaker preaching, and that +'they were directed to the Lord's teaching _in themselves_.' + +Hereupon the priest of the church became very angry. He spread abroad +many untrue stories about Fox, saying that he 'carried bottles with +him, and made people drink of them and so made them follow him and +become Quakers.' + +At Wakefield, also, in those days, as well as farther North, +'enchantment' was the first and simplest explanation of anything +unusual. This same priest also said that Fox rode upon a great black +horse, and was seen riding upon it in one county at a certain time, +and was also seen on the same horse and at the very same time in +another county sixty miles away. + +'With these lies,' says Fox, 'he fed his people, to make them think +evil of the truth which I had declared amongst them. But by those lies +he preached many of his hearers away from him, for I was travelling on +foot and had no horse; which the people generally knew.' + +James Nayler at any rate decided to become one of Fox's followers, and +let the priest do his worst. It may have been at his house that +George Fox lodged that night, thankful for its shelter, having slept +under a hedge the night before. When Fox left, Nayler did not go with +him, but remained quietly at home. Having been a farmer's son before +he became a soldier, he quietly returned to his farming when he left +the army. One day in early spring, a few months after Fox's visit, as +James Nayler was driving the plough and thinking of the things of God, +he heard a Voice calling to him through the silence, telling him to +leave his home and his relations, for God would be with him. At first +James Nayler rejoiced exceedingly because he had heard the Voice of +God, but when he considered how much he would have to give up if he +left home, he tried to put the command aside. Nothing that he +undertook prospered with him after this; he fell ill and nearly died, +till at last he was made willing to surrender his own will utterly and +go out, ready to do God's will, day by day and hour by hour, as it +should be revealed to him. 'And so he continued, not knowing one day +what he was to do the next; and the promise of God that He would be +with him, he found made good to him every day.' These are his own +words. His inward guidance led him into the west of England, and there +he found George Fox. + +After this Nayler and Fox were often together. Sometimes Nayler would +take a long journey to see Fox when he was staying with his dear +friends at Swarthmoor. Sometimes they wrote beautiful letters to each +other. Here is one from Nayler to Fox that might have been written to +us to-day: + +'Dear hearts, you make your own troubles by being unwilling and +disobedient to that which would lead you safe. There is no way but to +go hand in hand with Him in all things, running after Him without fear +or considering, leaving the whole work only to Him. If He seem to +smile, follow Him in fear and love, and if He seem to frown, follow +Him and fall into His will, and you shall see He is yours still,--for +He will prove His own.' + +[Illustration: 'THE VOICE OF THE SILENCE'] + +Nayler's adventurous journey with Fox to Walney Island must have drawn +their friendship closer than ever. In spite of hardships these were +happy days as they went about the country together on God's errands. +But these days came to an end. + +You see, Nayler had not found his faith after a long struggle as +George Fox had done. Perhaps he had accepted it a little too easily, +and too confidently, in his own strength. He was a splendid, brilliant +preacher, and he loved arguing for his new belief in public. Once, in +Derbyshire, in an argument with some ministers, he got so much the +best of it that the crowd was delighted and cried out, 'A Nailer, a +Nailer hath confuted them all.' + +Another time, when he was attending a meeting at a Friend's house, he +says that 'hundreds of vain people continued all the while throwing +great stones in at the window, but we were kept in great peace +within.' It would be rather difficult to sit quite still and 'think +meeting thoughts' with large stones flying through the windows, would +it not? + +Once, when I was at a service on board ship, a few years ago, a +tremendous wave broke through the port-hole and splashed the kneeling +men and women on that side of the saloon. They were so startled that +nearly all of them jumped, and one called out quite loudly, 'Oh, +what's that?' But the clergyman went on quietly reading the service, +and very soon everything became still and quiet again. + +James Nayler also continued to give his message of stillness and calm, +and the gathered people, listening to him intently, forgot to think +about the stones. He must have had a great deal of that strange +quality that we call magnetism. Just as a magnet attracts bits of iron +to it, so some people have the power of attracting others to listen to +them and love them. Fox was the most powerful magnet of all the Quaker +preachers. He attracted people in thousands all over the country. But +Nayler seems to have had a great deal of magnetism too, though it was +of a different kind. For one thing he was handsomer to look at than +Fox. He is described as 'of ruddy complexion and medium height, with +long, low hanging brown hair, oval face, and nose that rose a little +in the middle: he wore a small band close to his collar, but no band +strings, and a hat that hung over his brows.' + +But it would have been happier for him if he had not been so +good-looking, as you will see presently. He must have had much charm +of manner, too. A court lady, Abigail, Lady Darcy, invited him to her +house to preach, and there, beside all the people who had assembled to +hear him, many other much grander listeners were also present although +unseen, 'lords, ladies, officers, and ministers.' + +These great people, not wishing it to be known that they came to +listen to the Quaker preacher, were hidden away behind a ceiling. +Nayler himself must have known of their presence, since he mentions +it in a letter, though he does not explain how a ceiling could be a +hiding-place. He spoke to them afterwards of the Voice that had called +him as he was ploughing in the fields at home. These fine lords and +ladies could not understand what he meant. 'A Voice, a Voice?' they +asked him, 'but did you really hear it?' 'Aye, verily, I did hear it,' +he replied in such solemn tones that they wondered more than ever what +he meant; and perhaps they began to listen too for the Inner Voice. + +The discovery that he, a humble Quaker preacher, could attract all +this attention did James Nayler harm. Instead of remembering only the +thankfulness and joy of being entrusted with his Master's message, he +allowed small, lower feelings to creep into his heart: 'What a good +messenger I am! Don't I preach well? Far grander people throng to hear +me than to any other Quaker minister's sermons!' + +Another temptation came to him through his good looks. He was +evidently getting to think altogether too much about himself. It was +James Nayler this and James Nayler that, far too much about James +Nayler. Also, some of his friends were foolish, and did not help him. +The interesting thing about James Nayler is that his chief temptations +always came to him through his good qualities. If he had been a little +duller, or a little uglier, or a little stupider, if he had even made +fewer friends, he might have walked safely all his life. As it was, +instead of listening only to the Voice of God, he allowed himself to +listen to one of the most dangerous suggestions of the Tempter. Nayler +began to think that he might imitate Jesus Christ not only in inner +ways, not only by trying to be meek and loving and gentle and +self-sacrificing, as He was to all the people around Him. That is the +way we may all try to be like Him. Nayler also tried to imitate Him in +outer ways. He found a portrait of the Saviour and noticed how He was +supposed to have worn His hair and beard; and then he arranged his own +hair and beard in the same way. He even attempted to work miracles +like those in the Gospel story. He tried to fast as Christ had done, +'He ate no bread but one little bit for a whole month, and there was +about a fortnight ... he took no manner of food, but some days a pint +of white wine, and some days a gill mingled with water.' This was when +he was imprisoned in Exeter Gaol with many other Quakers. One woman +among them fainted and became unconscious, and she believed she had +been brought back to life by Nayler's laying his hand on her head and +saying, 'Dorcas, arise.' + +Some of his friends and the other women in the prison were foolish and +silly. Instead of helping Nayler to serve God in lowliness and +humility, they flattered his vanity, and encouraged him to become yet +more vain and presumptuous. They even knelt before him in the prison, +bowing and singing, 'Holy, holy, holy.' Some one wrote him a wicked +letter saying, 'Thy name shall be no more James Nayler, but Jesus'! + +Nayler confessed afterwards that 'a fear struck him' when he received +that letter. He put it in his pocket, meaning that no one should see +it. But though Nayler did not himself encourage his friends in their +wicked folly, still he did not check them as he should have done. He +thought that he was meant to be a 'sign of Christ' for the world. He +was weak in health at the time, and had suffered much from +imprisonment and long fasting; so it can be said in excuse that his +mind may have been clouded, and that perhaps he did not altogether +understand what was being done. + +The real sadness of this story is that we cannot excuse him +altogether. Some of the blame for the silly and foolish and wicked +things that were done around him does, and must, belong to him too. He +ought to have known and to have forbidden it all from the beginning. +George Fox and the other steady Friends of course did not approve of +these wild doings of James Nayler and his friends. George Fox came to +see James Nayler in prison at Exeter, and reproved him for his errors. +James Nayler was proud and would not listen to rebukes, though he +offered to kiss George Fox at parting. But Fox, who was 'stiff as a +tree and pure as a bell,' would not kiss any man, however much he +loved him, who persisted in such wrong notions. The two friends parted +very sorrowfully, and with a sad heart Fox returned to the inn on +Exeter Bridge. Not all the 'Seven Stars' on its signboard could shine +through this cloud. + +After this, things grew worse. Nayler persisted in his idea that he +was meant, in his own life, and in his own body, to imitate Jesus +Christ outwardly, and the women persisted in their wild acting round +him. When Nayler and his admirers came to Bristol, in October 1656, +they arranged a sort of play scene, to make it like the entry of Jesus +into Jerusalem. One man, bareheaded, led Nayler's horse, and the women +spread scarves and handkerchiefs in the way before him, as they had no +palms. They even shouted 'Hosanna!' and other songs and hymns that +they had no business to sing except in the worship of God. + +They meant it to be all very brilliant and triumphant. But it was +really a miserable sort of affair, for the rain came down heavily, and +the roads were muddy and dirty, which made the whole company wet and +draggled. Still it was not the rain that mattered,--what mattered most +was that none of them can have had the sunshine of peace in their +hearts, for they must have known that they were doing wrong. + +Anyhow the magistrates of the city of Bristol had no manner of doubt +about that. As soon as the foolish, dishevelled, excited company +reached the city they were all clapped into gaol, which was perhaps +the best place to sober their excited spirits. The officers of the law +were thoroughly well pleased. They had said from the first that George +Fox was a most dangerous man, and that the Quakers were a misguided +people to follow him. Now the folly and wickedness of Nayler and his +company gave them just the excuse they were wanting to prove that they +had been right all along. + +James Nayler was taken to London, tried, found guilty, and sentenced +to savage punishments. He was examined at length by a Committee of +Parliament. Just before his sentence was pronounced he said that he +'did not know his offence,' which looks as if his mind really had been +clouded over when some of the things he was accused of were done. But +this was not allowed to be any excuse. 'You shall know your offence by +your punishment' was the only answer he received. The members of +Oliver Cromwell's second Parliament who dealt with Nayler's case were +not likely to be lenient to any man, who, like Nayler, had done wrong +and allowed himself to be led astray. His Commonwealth judges showed +him no mercy indeed. When Nayler heard his terrible sentence, he +listened calmly, and said, 'God has given me a body: God will, I hope, +give me a spirit to endure it. I pray God He may not lay it to your +charge.' This shows that he had learned really to share his Master's +Spirit, which is the only true way of imitating Him. + +The punishments were cruel and vindictive. They lasted through many +weeks. Half way through, many 'persons of note' signed a petition to +ask that he might be allowed to miss the rest of the penalties, owing +to his enfeebled condition. In spite of this, the whole barbarous +sentence was carried out. James Nayler bore it unflinchingly. I am +only going to tell you one or two of the cruel things that were done +to him--and those not the worst. He was sentenced to have the letter +'B' burned on his forehead with a hot iron. 'B' stands for +'Blasphemer,' and it was to show everybody who saw him, wherever he +came, that he had been found guilty of saying wicked things about God. +The worst part of this punishment must have been knowing in his heart +that the accusation was, more or less, true. + +There he stood before the Old Exchange in London, on a bitter December +day, in the presence of thousands of spectators. He bore not only the +branding with a red-hot iron on the forehead until smoke arose from +the burning flesh, but also other worse tortures with 'a wonderful +patience.' The crowd, who always assembled on such occasions, were +touched by his demeanour. Instead of jeering and mocking, as they +were accustomed to do to criminals, all these thousands of people +lifted their hats in token of respect, and remained standing +bareheaded as they watched him in his agony. It is said that 'he +shrinked a little when the iron came upon his forehead,' yet on being +unbound he embraced his executioner. One faithful friend, Robert Rich, +who had done his utmost to save Nayler from this terrible punishment, +stood with him on the pillory and held his hand all through the +burning, and afterwards licked the wounds with his tongue to allay the +pain. 'I am the dog that licked Lazarus' sores,' Robert Rich used to +say, alluding to that terrible day. Long years after, when he was an +old man with a long white beard, he used to walk up and down in +Meeting in a long velvet gown, still repeating the story of his +friend's sufferings and of his patience. + + * * * * * + +After this punishment Nayler was sent down to Bristol to undergo the +rest of his sentence there. He was made to enter the city again in +deepest humiliation, no longer with excited followers shouting +'Hosanna!' before him, but seated on a horse _facing to the tail_, +with the big 'B' burned on his forehead for all men to see--and then +he was publicly whipped. + +Yet in spite of all the pain and shame he must have been happier in +one way during that sorrowful return to Bristol than at his former +entrance to the city, for he must have had more true peace in his +heart. + +Now, at last, comes the happy end of this sad story. There is no need +to sit over the fire in the darkness any longer. We can dry our eyes +and light the lamps--for it is not sorrowful really. James Nayler's +mistakes and sufferings had not been wasted. They had made him more +really like his Master, and his worst troubles were now over. + +He still lay in prison for two years more, but he was allowed ink and +paper, and he wrote many beautiful letters acknowledging that he had +done wrong, confessing his sin, and praising God even for the +sufferings which had shown him his error. He says in one place, 'the +provocation of that time of temptation was exceeding great against the +pure love of God; yet He left me not; for after I had given myself +under that power, and darkness was above, my adversary so prevailed, +that all things were turned and so perverted against my right seeing, +hearing, or understanding; only a secret hope and faith I had in my +God whom I had served, that He would bring me through it, and to the +end of it, and that I should again see the day of my redemption from +under it all; and this quieted my soul in my greatest tribulation.' + +And again, 'Dear brethren--My heart is broken this day for the offence +that I have occasioned to God's truth and people.... + +'And concerning you, the tender plants of my Father, who have suffered +through me, or with me, in what the Lord hath suffered to be done with +me, in this time of great trial and temptation; the Almighty God of +love, Who hath numbered every sigh, and put every tear in His bottle, +reward it a thousandfold into your bosoms, in the day of your need, +when you shall come to be tried and tempted; and in the meantime +fulfil your joy with His love, which you seek after. The Lord knows, +it was never in my heart to cause you to mourn, whose suffering is my +greatest sorrow that ever yet came upon me, for you are innocent +herein.' After this, at last he was set free. The first thing he did +was to try to return home to his wife and children. It is said that +'he was a man of great self-denial, and very jealous of himself ever +after his fall and recovery. At last, departing from the city of +London, about the latter end of October 1660, towards the north, +intending to go home to his wife and children at Wakefield in +Yorkshire, he was seen by a Friend of Hertford (sitting by the wayside +in a very awful, weighty frame of mind), who invited him to his house, +but he refused, signifying his mind to pass forward, and so went on +foot as far as Huntingdon, and was observed by a Friend as he passed +through the town, in such an awful frame, as if he had been redeemed +from the earth, and a stranger on it, seeking a better country and +inheritance. But going some miles beyond Huntingdon, he was taken ill +(being as 'tis said) robbed by the way, and left bound: whether he +received any personal injury is not certainly known, but being found +in a field by a countryman toward evening, was had, or went to a +Friend's house at Holm, not far from King's Ripton, where Thomas +Parnell, a doctor of physic, dwelt, who came to visit him; and being +asked, if any Friends at London should be sent for to come and see +him; he said, "Nay," expressing his care and love to them. Being +shifted, he said, "You have refreshed my body, the Lord refresh your +souls"; and not long after departed this life in peace with the Lord, +about the ninth month, 1660, and the forty-fourth year of his age, and +was buried in Thomas Parnell's burying-ground at King's Ripton +aforesaid.' + +'I don't call that a happy ending. I call it a very sad ending indeed! +What could be worse? To sit all alone by the roadside, and then +perhaps to be robbed and bound, or if not that, at any rate to be +taken ill and carried to a stranger's house to die. That is only a +sorrowful ending to a most sorrowful life.' + +Is this what anyone is thinking? + +Ah, but listen! That is not the real end. It is said that 'about two +hours before his death he spoke in the presence of several witnesses' +these words: + +'There is a spirit which I feel, that delights to do no evil, nor to +revenge any wrong, but delights to endure all things, in hope to enjoy +its own in the end: its hope is to outlive all wrath and contention, +and to weary out all exaltation and cruelty, or whatever is of a +nature contrary to itself. It sees to the end of all temptations: as +it bears no evil in itself, so it conceives none in thoughts to any +other: if it be betrayed it bears it, for its ground and spring is the +mercies and forgiveness of God: its crown is meekness, its life is +everlasting love unfeigned, and takes its kingdom with entreaty, and +not with contention, and keeps it by lowliness of mind: in God alone +it can rejoice, though none else regard it, or can own its life: it is +conceived in sorrow, and brought forth without any to pity it; nor +doth it murmur at grief and oppression: it can never rejoice but +through sufferings; for with the world's joy it is murdered: I found +it alone, being forsaken; I have fellowship therein with them who +lived in dens, and desolate places in the earth, who through death +obtained this resurrection and eternal holy life.' + +That is why this story has a happy ending. A made-up story might have +left James Nayler at home with his wife and children. But, after all +he had suffered, he may have been too tired to bear much joy on earth. +Besides, how could he have borne for those dear ones to see the +condemning 'B' burned on his forehead? and the other scars and signs +of his terrible punishments, how could they have borne to see them? + +Was it not better that the end came as it did by the roadside near +Huntingdon? + +Only remember always, that what we call the end is itself only the +beginning. + +Think how thankful James Nayler must have been to lay down the tired, +scarred body in which he had sinned and suffered, while his spirit, +strengthened, purified, and cleansed by all he had endured, was set +free to serve in the larger, fuller life beyond. James Nayler's +difficult school-days were over at last on this little earth, where we +are set to learn our lessons. Like the other prodigal son he had gone +to receive his own welcome from the Father's heart in the Father's +Home. + + * * * * * + +Why have I told you this story--'the saddest story of all'? A parable +will explain it best. Imagine that ever since the beginning of Time +there has been a great big looking-glass with the sun shining down +upon it. Then imagine that that looking-glass has been broken up into +innumerable fragments, and that one bit is given to each human soul, +when it is born on earth, to keep and to hold at the right angle, so +that it can still reflect the sun's beams. That is something like the +truth that George Fox discovered for himself and preached all over +England. He called it the doctrine of 'The Inner Light.' To all the +hungering, thirsting, sinful, ignorant men and women in England he +gave the same message: 'There is that of God within you, that can +reflect Him. You can hear His Voice speaking in your hearts'; or, to +continue the parable, 'If you hold your own little bit of +looking-glass in the sunlight it will, it must, reflect the Sun.' + +James Nayler listened to this message, accepted it, and rejoiced in +it. He did truly turn to the Light. But he forgot one thing that must +never be forgotten. He looked too much at his own tiny bit of +looking-glass and too little at the Sun. In this way the mirror of his +soul grew soiled and stained and dim. It could no longer reflect the +Light faithfully. Then, it had to be cleansed by suffering. But all +this time, and always, the Sun of God's unchanging love was steadily +shining, waiting for him to turn to it again. Let us too look up +towards that Sun of Love. Let us open our hearts wide to receive its +light. Then we shall find that we have not only a mirror in our hearts +but also something alive and growing; what George Fox would call the +'Seed.' Sometimes he calls it the 'Seed,' and sometimes the 'Light,' +because it is too wonderful for any picture or parable to express it +wholly. But we each have 'that of God within' that can reflect and +respond to Him, if we will only let it. Let us try then to open our +hearts wide, wide, to receive, and not to think of ourselves. If we do +this, sooner or later we shall learn to live and grow in the sunshine +of God's love, as easily and naturally as the daisies do, when they +spread their white and golden hearts wide open in the earthly +sunshine on a summer's day. + + * * * * * + +James Nayler did learn that lesson at last, and therefore even this, +'the saddest story of all,' really and truly has a happy end. + + + + +XXI. PALE WIND FLOWERS: OR THE LITTLE PRISON MAID + + + + + _'Let not anything straiten you + when God moves.'--W. DEWSBURY, + Epistle from York Tower, 1660._ + + + _'All friends and brethren + everywhere, that are imprisoned + for the Truth, give yourselves up + in it, and it will make you free, + and the power of the Lord will + carry you over all the + persecutors. Be faithful in the + life and power of the Lord God and + be valiant for the Truth on the + earth; and look not at your + sufferings, but at the power of + God; and that will bring some good + out of all your sufferings; and + your imprisonments will reach to + the prisoned that the persecutor + prisons in himself.... So be + faithful in that which overcomes + and gives victory.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'Bread and Wine were the Supper + of the Lord in the dispensation of + Time, ... a figure of His death, + which were fulfilled when He had + suffered and rose again, and now + He is known to stand at the door + and knock, "If any man hear my + Voice and open the door, I will + come in and sup with him and he + with me," saith Christ. And we + being many are one Bread and one + Body and know the Wine renewed in + our Father's Kingdom. Christ the + Substance we now witness; Shadows + and Figures done away; he that can + receive it, let him.'--W. DEWSBURY._ + + + + +XXI. PALE WIND FLOWERS: OR THE LITTLE PRISON MAID + + +I + +'Dear grandfather will be wearying for me! We must not linger.' There +was a wistful ring in the child's voice as she spoke. Little Mary Samm +looked longingly towards a clump of wood anemones dancing in the +sunshine, as she followed her aunt, Joan Dewsbury, through a coppice +of beech-trees on the outskirts of the city of Warwick. It was a +bright windy day of early spring in the year 1680. Mary was twelve +years old, but so small and slight that she looked and seemed much +younger. And now she wanted badly to gather some wood anemones. But +would Aunt Joan approve? Would it be selfish to leave 'dear +grandfather' longer alone? + +Happily the older woman, who preceded little Mary on the narrow +woodland pathway, possessed a kind heart underneath her severe, grey, +Quaker bodice and stiff manner. She caught the wistful tone in the +little girl's voice, and, turning round, noticed the wood anemones. +Indeed, the wood anemones insisted on being noticed. Joan Dewsbury +walked on a few steps further in silence; then, setting the heavy +basket down on the trunk of a felled tree, 'No, Mary,' she said, 'in +truth we must not linger; but we may rest a few moments. Also thou +knowest thy grandfather's love of a posy in his prison. If I see +aright, there are some pale windflowers blowing yonder, beside that +old tree, though it is full early for them still. Here, give me thy +basket, and hie thee to gather them. I will sit down and wait for thy +return; and, if we hasten our steps hereafter, we shall not be much +delayed.' + +Little Mary Samm glanced up with a joyful smile. She had espied the +few, first, faint windflowers as soon as she entered the wood; but, +without her aunt's permission, it would never have entered her head to +suggest that she might gather them. For Mary was a carefully trained +(not to say primly brought up) little maiden of the seventeenth +century, when children followed their elders' injunctions in all +things, without daring to dwell on their own wishes. If Joan Dewsbury +had been an artist she would have enjoyed watching the child's slim +little upright figure stepping daintily over the rustling brown beech +leaves, between the rounded trunks of the grey trees. The air was full +of the promise of early spring. A cold blue sky showed through the +lattice work of twigs and branches; but, as yet, no fluttering leaf +had crept out of its sheath to soften, with a hint of tender green, +the virginal stiffness and straightness of the stems. Grey among the +grey tree-trunks little Mary flitted about, gathering her precious +windflowers. She was clad in the demure Puritan dress worn by young +and old alike in the early days of the Society of Friends. A frock of +grey duffel hung in straight lines around her slight figure; a cape of +the same material was drawn closely round her shoulders, while a grey +bonnet framed the pensive face. A strange unchildlike face it was, +small and pinched, with a high, narrow forehead and sharply pointed +chin. There were no childish roses in the pale cheeks. A very faint +flush of pink, caused by fresh air and unwonted exercise, could not +disguise the curious yellow tinge of the skin, like old parchment +that has been kept too long from the light of day. Only the tips of a +few locks of light brown hair, cut very short and straight round the +ears, were visible under the close, tightly-fitting bonnet. + +[Illustration: PALE WINDFLOWERS] + +'An ugly little girl, in perfectly hideous clothes,' modern children +might have said if they had seen Mary Samm for the first time, looking +down at her windflowers, though even then there was a hint of beauty +in the long, curved, black eyelashes that lay quietly on the pale +cheeks, and a very sweet expression hovered round the corners of the +firm, delicate, little mouth. But no one who could have seen little +Mary running back to her aunt with her precious flowers in her hand +would have called her 'ugly' or even 'plain' any longer. The radiant +light in her eyes transfigured the small, pinched face of the demure +little being in its old-fashioned garments. Even critical modern +children would have forgotten everything else, and would have +exclaimed, 'She has the most beautiful eyes!' + +What colour were her eyes? They were not blue, or black, or grey, or +brown, or hazel, or green, or yellow. Perhaps they were in truth more +yellow than anything else. They were full not only of sparkling lights +but also of deep velvety shadows that made it difficult to tell their +exact colour. Who can say the colour of a mountain stream that runs +over a pebbled bed? Every stone can be seen through the clear, +transparent water, but there are mysterious, shadowy darknesses in it +also, reflected from the overhanging banks. Little Mary Samm's eyes +were both clear and mysterious as such a mountain stream; while her +voice,--but hush! she is speaking again, her rather shrill, high tones +breaking the crisp silence of the March afternoon. + +'Here is the posy, Aunt; will not dear grandfather love his pale +windflowers, come like stars to visit him in his prison? Only these +flower stars will not pass away quickly out of sight as do the real +stars we watch together through the bars every evening.' + +Joan Dewsbury took the bunch of anemones from her niece's cold +fingers, laid it down carefully in Mary's rush basket and covered it +with a corner of the cloth. Had she been a 'nowadays aunt' she might +have thought that Mary was not unlike a windflower herself. The girl's +small white face was flushed faintly, like the ethereal white sepals; +there was a delicate, fragile fragrance about her as if a breath might +blow her away, yet there was an unconquerable air of determination +also in her every movement and gesture. But Joan Dewsbury was not a +'nowadays aunt'; she was a 'thenadays aunt,' and that was an entirely +different kind. She never thought of comparing a little girl, who had +come to take care of her grandfather in his prison, with the white, +starry flowers that came out in the wood so early, holding on tight to +the roots of the old tree, and blooming gallantly through all the +gales of spring. Joan Dewsbury's thoughts were full of different and, +to her, far more important matters than her niece's appearance. She +rose, and, after handing Mary her small rush basket and settling her +own larger one comfortably on her arm, the two started off once more +with quickened steps through the wood. Neither the older woman nor the +girl was much of a talker, and the winding woodland pathways were too +narrow for two people to walk abreast. But when they came out on the +broad grassy way that wandered across the meadows by the side of the +smooth Avon towards the city walls, they did seem to have a few +things to say to one another. They spoke of the farm they had visited, +of the milk, eggs, and cheese they carried in their baskets. But most +often they mentioned 'the prison.' Little Mary still seemed to be in a +great hurry to get back to be with 'dear grandfather,' while her +companion was apparently anxious to detain her long enough to learn +something more of her life in the gaol. + +'I could envy thee, Mary, were it not a sin,' she said once. 'Thou art +a real comfort to my dear father. Since my mother died, gladly would I +have been his companion, and have sought to ease his captivity, but +the Governor of the gaol would not allow it.' + +'Ay, I know,' replied Mary, in her clear, high-pitched voice. 'My +mother told me that day at my home in Bedfordshire, that no one but a +child like me could be allowed to serve him, and to live in the prison +as his little maid.' + +'Didst thou want to come, Mary?' her aunt enquired. + +Mary's face clouded for a moment. Then she looked full at her aunt. +The candid eyes that had nothing to hide, reflected shadows as well as +light at that moment. + +'No, Aunt,' she said, firmly and clearly, 'at the first I did not want +to come. There was my home, thou seest; I love Hutton Conquest, and my +mother, and the maids, my sisters. Also I had many friends in our +village with whom I was wont to have rare frolics and games. When +first my mother told me of the Governor's permission, I did not want +to leave the pleasant Bedfordshire meadows that lie around our dear +farm, and go to live cooped up behind bolts and bars. Besides, I had +heard that Warwick Gaol was a fearsome place. I was affrighted at the +thought of being shut up among the thieves and murderers. And--' She +hesitated. + +'Poor maid,' said her aunt, 'still thou didst come in the end?' + +'In the end it was made clear to me that my place was with dear +grandfather,' said the child in her crisp, old-fashioned way. 'My +mother said she could not force me; for she feared the gaol fever for +me. I feared it too. And it is worse even than I feared. At nights I +hear the prisoners screaming with it often. Nearly every day some of +them die. They say it is worse for the young, and I know my +grandfather dreads that I may take it. He looks at me often very +sadly, or he did when I first came. Always then at nightfall he grew +sad. But, latterly, we have been so comfortable together that I think +he hath forgot his fears. When the evenings darken, and he can no +longer read or write, we sit and watch the stars. Then if I can +persuade him to tell me stories of what he hath undergone, that doth +turn his thoughts, and afterwards he will fall asleep, and sleep well +the whole night through.' + +'Thou art a comfort to him, sure enough,' her aunt answered. 'It is +wonderful how much brighter he hath been since he had thee, though he +hath never smiled since my mother's death. But thou thyself must +surely grow tired of the prison and its bare stone walls? Thou must +long to be back at play with thy sisters in the Bedfordshire meadows?' + +'That do I no longer,' little Mary Samm made answer firmly. 'I love my +sisters dearly, dearly,' she raised her voice unconsciously as she +spoke, and a chaffinch on a branch overhead filled in the pause with +an answering chirp, 'I love my mother too. Didst thou really say thou +wert expecting her to visit thee right soon? My dear, dear mother! But +I love my dear grandfather best of all, for he hath nobody but me to +care for him. At least, of course, he hath thee, Aunt Joan,' she added +hastily, noticing a slight shade pass over her aunt's face. 'And what +should we do without thee to bake bread for us, and go to the farm to +fetch him fresh eggs, and butter, and cheese, and sweet, new milk? He +would soon starve on the filthy prison fare. See, I have the milk +bottle safe hidden under my flowers.' + +'Aye, thou wast ever a careful maid,' answered her aunt; 'but, tell +me, hath the Governor indeed grown gentler of late, and hath he given +my father more liberty, and a better room?' + +'That he hath indeed. He patted my head this very morn, and said I +might have permission to come out and walk with thee for the first +time,' Mary answered. 'He saith, too, that the gaol is no place for a +child like me, and that thou shalt come and see us in a se'nnight from +now; then haply thou wilt bring my mother with thee! The room my +grandfather hath now is small in truth, but he can lie down at length, +and I have a little cupboard within the wall where I can also lie and +hear if he needs me. Doth he but stir or call "Mary" at nights, ever +so gently, in a moment I am by his side.' + +'And canst thou ease him?' her aunt enquired. + +'That I can,' answered Mary proudly. 'Often I can ease him, or warm +his poor cold hands, or soothe him till he sleeps again, for he grows +weaker after this long imprisonment.' + +'Small wonder,' replied her aunt. 'If thou hadst seen the dungeon +where they set him first--foul, beneath the floor, with no window, +only a grating overhead to give him air. There were a dozen or more +felons and murderers packed in it too, along with him, so that he had +not enough room even to lie down. But there--it is not fit for a child +like thee to know the half of all he hath undergone in the cause of +Truth.' + +'Dear, dear grandfather,' said Mary wistfully, 'yet he never +complains. He says always that he "doth esteem the locks and bolts as +jewels," since he doth endure them for his Master's sake.' + +'Ay, and what was his crime for which he suffered at first in that +foul place? Nothing but his giving of thanks one night after supper at +an inn. His accusers must needs affirm this to be "preaching at a +conventicle." Hist! we had better be silent now we have reached the +town. I must leave thee at the gate of the gaol, and go on my way, +while thou goest thine. Be sure and say to my dear father that I and +thy mother will visit him as soon as ever the Governor shall permit.' + +A few minutes later they stopped; Joan Dewsbury took the basket from +her arm and gave it to her niece. 'Farewell, dear child,' she said +cheerily, as the porter opened the tall portal of the prison; but her +eyes grew dim as she watched the small figure disappear behind the +heavy bolts and bars. + +'She is a good maid, and a brave one,' she said to herself as she +passed down the street between the timbered houses to her home. 'Yet +she is not as other children are. For all the comfort she is to my +dear father, I would fain think of her safe once more at home with her +sisters. Right glad I am that her mother hath sent me word by a sure +hand to say she cometh speedily to see of her condition for herself. +The Governor is right, the gaol is no place for a child, nor is it the +life for her either. She liveth too much in her own thoughts. This +morn on our walk to the farm when I asked her wherefore she seemed +sorrowful, she replied that she was "troubled in her conscience, that +she thought she would not live long and wanted satisfaction from the +Lord as to whither her soul would go if she were to die." Yet she +sprang after those flowers as gaily as her sisters, and she saith +always that she is well. If only she may keep as she is until her +mother shall come.' + +Shaking her head, and full of anxious thoughts, the kind woman pursued +her homeward way. Over the cobble-stones and between the timbered +houses with their steep gables and high-thatched roofs, she passed +through the city until she came to her own small dwelling, William +Dewsbury's home, where his daughter lived alone, and awaited his +return. + + +II + +Have you ever seen a ray of golden sunshine steal in through the thick +blinds, heavy shutters and close curtains that try to shut it out? +People may pull down the blinds and shut the shutters and draw the +curtains, and do their very best to keep the sunshine away. Yet, +sooner or later, a ray always manages to get in somehow. It dances +through a chink here or a hole there, or steals along the floor, till +at last it arrives, a radiant messenger, in the darkened room to say +that a whole world of light is waiting outside. + +In spite of her sombre garments, Mary Samm was like such a ray of +sunshine as she stole into Warwick prison. No doors, bolts or bars +could keep her out; and the gaoler seemed to know it, as he preceded +her down the damp, dark, stone passages: the walls and floor oozing +moisture, and the ceiling blackened by the smoke of many candles. The +prisons of England were all foul, ill-smelling, fever-haunted places +at that time; and hardly any of them was worse than Warwick gaol. + +William Dewsbury had earned the esteem of his keepers during his +successive imprisonments which lasted altogether for nearly nineteen +years. He was privileged now to lie away from the other criminals, who +were herded together in the main building. He had been given a small +apartment that looked towards the river on the far side of a +courtyard, called the sergeants' ward. There was even a pump in the +centre of this courtyard from whence his granddaughter might fetch him +water daily, and the old man and the child were now privileged to take +exercise together in the fresh air;--a great solace in the weary +monotony of prison life. The gaoler unlocked the door of this +sergeants' ward, and then, putting into Mary's hand the key of her +grandfather's apartment, he retraced his steps to the outer gate. Mary +sped across the cobble-stones of the courtyard with joyful haste, +unlocked the door, set down her baskets carefully, the big one first, +the little one after it, and then, 'Grandfather, dear Grandfather,' +she exclaimed, 'tell me, am I late? Hast thou missed thy little prison +maid?' + +The white-haired man, who was writing at a rough oak table, lifted his +head as she entered. His face was worn and haggard; his eyes were +sunken, but the smile that overspread his countenance, as he saw who +had entered, was as bright as little Mary's own. Laying down his pen +and pushing the papers from him, he held out his arms, and in another +minute his granddaughter was clasped in his embrace. + +It would be hard to say which of the two was the happier as she placed +the precious windflowers in his thin, blue-veined hand and told him +all she had seen and done. Joan's messages were given; and then, 'But +what hast thou been doing, dear Grandfather?' Mary asked in her turn. +'Hast thou been writing yet another Epistle to Friends to encourage +them to stand firm? I see thy name very clear and bold at the foot: +"William Dewsbury." I love thy name, Grandfather! It reminds me of our +summer flowers and berries at home in Bedfordshire and of the heavy +dews that fall on them. Thy name is as good as a garden, Grandfather, +in itself.' + +'It is thou who shouldst be in a garden thyself, my little Mary,' +William Dewsbury answered sorrowfully. 'It is sad to bring thee back +within these gloomy walls, a maid like thee.' + +'Nay, Grandfather, it is not sad! Thou promised me that thou wouldst +never say that again! My work was shewn me plainly; that I was to come +and care for thee, and fetch thee thy provisions. It is full early yet +for supper, although the light is fading; canst thou not tell me a +little tale while I sit on thy knee? Afterwards we will eat our meal, +and then thou wilt tell me more stories yet, more and more, to shorten +the dark hours till the stars are shining brightly and it is time to +go to rest.' + +'Thou hast heard most of my tales so often, dear Granddaughter, as we +sit here these dark evenings, that thou dost almost know them better +than I myself,' the old man replied. + +'Yea, truly, I know them well,' answered Mary. 'Yet I am never weary +of hearing of thy own life long ago. Tell me once more how thou wast +brought off from being a soldier, and established in the path of +peace.' + +'Thou must have that tale well nigh by heart already, dear lamb,' the +old man answered. 'Many a time I have told thee of my early days among +the flocks, how I was a shepherd lad until I came to thine own age of +twelve years. Thereafter, when I was thirteen years old, I was bound +an apprentice to a clothmaker in a town called Holdbeck, near Leeds. +He was a godly man and strict, but sharp of tongue. I might have +continued in that town to this day. But when I was fully come to man's +estate the Civil War between King and Parliament broke out all over +the land. Loath was I to take up arms, having been ever of a peaceable +disposition, but when wise men, whom I revered, called upon me to +fight for the civil and religious freedom of my native land, it seemed +to me, in my dark ignorance of soul, that no other course remained +honourably open to me. I feared if I did not join the Army of the +Parliament that had sworn to curb the tyranny of Charles Stuart, then +upon my head would rest the curse of Meroz, "who went not to the help +of the Lord against the mighty." Thus I became a soldier, thinking +that by so doing I was fighting for the Gospel--and forgetting that my +Master was One who was called the Prince of Peace. + +'Small peace, in truth, did I find in the ranks of the army of the +Parliament--or indeed in any other place, until in the fulness of time +it was made clear to me that I was but seeking the living amongst the +dead, and looking without for that which was only to be found within. + +'Then my mind was turned within, by the power of the Lord, to wait on +His counsel, the Light in my own conscience, to hear what the Lord +would say: and the word of the Lord came unto me, and said, "Put up +thy sword into thy scabbard.... Knowest thou not that if I need I +could have twelve legions of Angels from my Father": which Word +enlightened my heart, and discovered the mystery of iniquity, and that +the Kingdom of Christ was within, and was spiritual, and my weapons +against them must be spiritual, the Power of God. + +'It was on this wise that I came to join the Army of the Lamb, and of +His peaceful servants who follow Him whithersoever He goeth.' + +'But, Grandfather, explain to me, how couldst thou leave the +Parliamentary army thou wert pledged to serve?' + +'A hard struggle I had truly to get free. Yet I did leave it, for I +was yet more deeply pledged to Him Who had said, "My kingdom is not of +this world: if my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants +fight." At length my way was made more plain before me. I left the +army and resumed my weaving. Thus I passed through deep baptizings of +the Holy Ghost and of fire,--baptisms too deep for a child like thee +to understand how they affected my soul.' + +Mary nodded her head gently and said to herself, 'Perhaps I can +understand already, better than my grandfather thinks. Have I not +twice already in my young years been brought nigh to death? Even now +death seemeth to me often not far away.' + +'Wouldst thou then fear to die, Grandfather?' she added aloud. + +'No more than a bird would fear to leave its cage and fly, were once +the door but open,' the old man answered. 'But the door is still +securely fastened for me, it seems; and since I had thee, my little +bird, to share my captivity I am no longer anxious to leave my cage. I +was younger by four years than thou art now, my child, when I lost my +fear of the grave. It was on this wise. I was but a little lad of +eight years old, mourning and weeping for the loss of my dear father, +who had been taken from us. As the tears streamed down my cheeks, +methought I heard a Voice saying: "Weep for thyself; thy father is +well." Never since that day, Mary child, have I doubted for one moment +that for those who go hence in peace, it is well indeed.' + +'Dear Grandfather, there is a sad sound in thy voice,' said little +Mary. 'It is too dark by this time to see thy face, but I cannot let +thee be sad. How shall I cheer thee? Ah! I know! how could I have +forgotten? My aunt charged me to say she hath news by a sure hand that +my dear mother may be coming hither to visit thee and me before many +days are over.' + +'My daughter Mary is ever welcome,' said the old man dreamily, 'and in +the darkness thy voice is so like to hers, I could almost deem she +herself was sitting by my side. Already the young moon has disappeared +behind the battlements of the castle. Yet I need not her silver light +to tell me that thy hair is softer and straighter than thy mother's, +and without the golden lights and twining curls that hers had when she +was thy age.' + +'The moon truly has left us, Grandfather,' Mary interrupted, springing +from his knee. 'Yet what matters the darkness while we are close +together? I can still see to get thy supper ready for thee. Thou must +eat first, and then we will talk further, until it is time to go to +rest.' + +Deftly the little prison maid moved about the bare cell, drawing her +grandfather's chair to the rough oak table. On this she arranged the +loaf of bread and bottle of milk from her basket, setting them and the +earthenware mugs and platters out on the white cloth, to look as +home-like as possible. The anemones in the centre still glimmered +faintly as if shining by their own light. The simple meal was a very +happy one. When it was finished and the remains had been cleared away +and carefully replaced in the basket for to-morrow's needs, the stars +were looking in through the prison bars. + +'Now, one more story, Grandfather,' said Mary firmly, 'just one, +before we go to rest.' + +'I love to see thy small white face shining up at me through the +gloom,' the old man answered. 'I will tell thee of my first meeting +with George Fox. Hast thou ever heard that story?' + +The little prison maid was far too wary to reply directly. + +'Tell it to me now, Grandfather,' she replied evasively, and then, to +turn the old man's thoughts in the right direction, 'thou hadst +already left the army by that time?' she hazarded. + +'Ay, that I had,' answered Dewsbury. 'I had left it for several years, +and a measure of Truth I had found for myself. Greatly I longed to +proclaim it and to share my new-found happiness with others. But the +inward Voice spoke to me clearly and said: "Keep thee silent for six +full years, until the year 1652 shall have come. Then shalt thou find +more hungering and thirsting among the people than at the present +time." So "I kept silence even from good words, though it was pain and +grief to me." Thou knowest, Mary, even while I was yet in the army, +many and deep exercisings had I had in my spirit, and such were still +my portion at times. About this time, by the providence of God, I +chanced to hear of a young woman living in the city of York, who was +going through a like season of sorrow and anguish regarding her +immortal soul. After due deliberation, I found it in my heart to pay +her a visit. I did this and went on foot to York. When I came into her +presence, at once we were made aware of each other's conditions. No +sooner did we begin to converse than we found ourselves joined +together in deep unity of spirit. Her spiritual exercises answered +unto mine own, as in water face answereth to face. Dost thou +understand, child, of what I am speaking?' + +'I follow not thy language always with entire comprehension, dear +Grandfather,' answered Mary with her usual precise honesty of speech, +'but it appears to me thy meaning is clear. I think that this young +woman must likely have been my grandmother?' + +William Dewsbury smiled. 'Thou art right,' he said, 'it was to be even +so, in the fulness of time; that, however, was long after. Almost at +once we became man and wife. There seemed no need to settle that +between us. It had been settled for us by Him who brought us together. +We knew it from the first moment that we saw each the other's face. +Thy grandmother had in a measure joined herself unto the Anabaptists, +therefore 'twas at one of their meetings that we were wed. The power +of the Spirit was an astonishment unto them, and I have heard it said +that never hath the Divine Presence been more felt in any assembly +than it was that day. Thy grandmother resembled thee, my Mary, as thou +wilt be when thou art a woman grown--when thou shalt be taller and +rounder, and less slim and spare. Her eyes were darker than thine, and +she had the same soft brown hair as thine, but with thy mother's +golden threads in it, my Ann! Before she became my wife, she had been +blessed with a plenty of this world's goods, but no sooner were we wed +than her brother unjustly deprived her of her property. For myself, I +cared not. Now that she was safely mine own, he was welcome to the +land that should have been hers by right. Yet for her sake I strove to +get it back, but in vain. Then did the enemy of souls reproach me for +having brought her, whom I tenderly loved, into a state of poverty. In +humiliation and lowliness of mind before the Lord, without yielding to +the tempter, I desired Him to make me content to be what He would have +me to be; and, in a moment, I was so filled with the presence of the +Lord, that I was not able to bear the weight of the glory that was +upon me. I desired the Lord, if He had any service for me to do, to +withdraw, for I could not live; then I heard as it were a Voice say to +me, "Thou art Mine, all in heaven and earth is Mine, and it is thine +in Me; what I see good I will give unto thee, and unto thy wife and +children."' + +'Poor Grandfather, that was a hard pass for thee,' murmured Mary, +smoothing the old man's coat sleeve. 'But did not a great joy follow +close upon thy trouble?' she prompted, 'a great joy on a moonshine +night, not a dark one like this?' + +William Dewsbury's countenance kindled with fresh life and vigour. +'Yea, my child,' he answered, 'light did indeed illuminate us on that +same moonshine night of which thou speakest, when we went, my Ann and +I, to Lieutenant Roper's house to hear the Stranger preach. All our +lives we had both been seeking, but now by the Power of the Lord, the +time was come for us to find. We went to hear a Stranger. But no +stranger was George Fox. Rather did we recognise him, from the first +moment of that meeting, as the own brother of our souls. Up and down +the length and breadth of the land I had journeyed, seeking for +deliverance and for truth. Now, in my own county of Yorkshire, my +deliverer was found. It was not alone the words he spake, though they +were forcible and convincing, much more it was the irresistible Power +of the Lord breathing through him that brought us to our knees. All +men could see as they looked upon his goodly form, not then marred by +cruel imprisonments and sufferings, that he was a man among ten +thousand. But to me he was also a chosen vessel of the Lord; for power +spoke through him, yea, to my very heart. I have told thee, Mary, of +my long searchings after truth, and of those of my dear wife. There +was no need to mention one of them to George. With the first words he +spake it was clear to me that he knew them all, he could read our +necessities like an open book. Well hath it been said of him that "he +was a man of God endued with a clear and wonderful depth; a discerner +of other men's spirits, and very much a master of his own." Our hearts +clave unto him at once. We could scarcely restrain ourselves until the +meeting should be at an end, to disclose our inmost souls unto him. +Then at last, when all the multitude had departed, we watched Friend +George set out on his homeward way. We followed him in all haste, my +Ann and I, until we came up with him in a lonely field. The moon shone +full on his face and on our seeking faces, revealing us to each other. +At first he gazed on us as if we were strangers. For all we had longed +ardently to tell him, we found no words. Only a long time we stood +together silently, we three, with the dumb kine slumbering around us +in the dewy meadows; we three, revealed to one another in the full +light. Then at last we confessed to the Truth before him, and from him +we received Truth again. There is no Scripture to warrant the +sprinkling of a few drops of water on the face of a child and calling +that Baptism; but there is a Scripture for being baptized with the +Holy Ghost and with fire. That true essential Baptism did our spirits +receive in very deed that night from God's own minister of His +Everlasting Gospel. + +'Thus, then and there, were we three knit together in soul; and the +Lord's Power was over all.' + +The old man's voice died away into silence. His thoughts were far off +in the past. The loneliness of the prison was forgotten, little Mary +knew that her evening's task was done. Very gently she flitted from +his side, arranged his bed for the night, and then slipped, +noiselessly as a shadow, into her little inner cell, scarcely larger +than a cupboard. Here she undressed in the darkness and laid herself +down on her little straw pallet on the floor. But she had brought the +precious windflowers with her. 'They are so white, they will be like +company through the dark night hours,' she said to herself, placing +the glass close to her bed. Presently, through a tiny slit of window +high up in the prison wall, one sentinel star looked down into the +narrow cell. It peeped in upon a small white figure straight and slim +amid the surrounding blackness of the cell, with 'dear, long, lean, +little arms lying out on the counterpane'; but Mary's eyes were wide +open, her ears were listening intently for her grandfather's softest +call. + +Gradually the ray of starlight crept up the prison wall and +disappeared; soon other stars one by one looked in at the narrow +window and passed upwards also on their high steep pathways; gradually +the eyelids closed, and the long dark lashes lay upon the white +cheeks. Drowsily little Mary thought to herself, 'I am glad my mother +will soon be here, but it hath been a very happy evening. Truly I am +glad I came to help dear grandfather, and to be his little prison +maid.' + +Only one starry white windflower, clasped tight in her fingers through +the long night hours, gradually drooped and died. + + + + +XXII. AN UNDISTURBED MEETING + + + + + _'It was impossible to ignore the + Quaker because he would not be + ignored. If you close his + meeting-house he holds it in the + street; if you stone him out of + the city in the evening, he is + there in the morning with his + bleeding wounds still upon him.... + You may break the earthen vessel, + but the spirit is invincible and + that you cannot kill.'--JOHN + WILHELM ROWNTREE._ + + + _'Interior calmness means interior + and exterior strength.'--J. RENDEL + HARRIS._ + + + _'Be nothing terrified at their + threats of banishment, for they + cannot banish you from the coasts + and sanctuary of the Living + God.'--MARGARET FOX._ + + + _'Grant us grace to rest from all + sinful deeds and thoughts, to + surrender ourselves wholly unto + Thee, to keep our souls still + before Thee like a still lake; + that so the beams of Thy love may + be mirrored therein, and may + kindle in our hearts the beams of + faith, and love, and prayer. May + we, through such stillness and + hope, find strength and gladness + in Thee O God, now, and for + evermore.'--JOACHIM EMBDEN, 1595._ + + + _'For the soul that is close to GOD_ + _In the folded wings of prayer,_ + _Passion no more can vex,_ + _Infinite peace is there.'_ + _EDWIN HATCH._ + + + + +XXII. AN UNDISTURBED MEETING + + +Quiet and lonely now stands the small old farmhouse of Drawwell, on +the sunny slope of a hill, under the shadow of the great fells. To +this day the old draw-well behind the house, which gives its name to +the homestead, continues to yield its refreshing draught of pure cold +water. 'It is generally full, even in times of drought, and never +overflows.'[32] To this day, also, the 'living water,' drawn in many a +'mighty Meeting' held around that well in the early years of +Quakerism, continues to refresh thirsty souls. + + * * * * * + +It was to Drawwell Farm that George Fox came with his hosts Thomas and +John Blaykling, on Whitsun Wednesday evening in June 1652, at the end +of Sedbergh Fair. From Drawwell he accompanied them to Firbank Chapel, +the following Sunday forenoon. There, high up on the opposite fell, he +was moved, as he says in his Journal, to 'sit down upon the rock on +the mountain' and 'discourse to over a thousand people, amongst whom I +declared God's everlasting Truth and word of life freely and largely, +for about the space of three hours, whereby many were convinced.' + +More than once in after days, George Fox returned again thankfully to +Drawwell, seeking and finding rest and refreshment for soul and body +under its hospitable, low, stone roof, as he went up and down on +those endless journeys of his, throughout the length and breadth of +England, whereby he 'kept himself in a perpetual motion, begetting +souls unto God.' + +Many hallowed memories cling about Drawwell Farm,--as closely as the +silvery mist clings to every nook and cranny of its walls in damp +weather,--but none more vivid than that of the Undisturbed Meeting of +1665. + +George Fox was not present that day. His open-air wanderings, and his +visits to the home under the great fells were alike at an end for a +time, while in the narrow prison cells of Lancaster and Scarborough he +was bearing witness, after a different fashion, to the freedom of the +Spirit of the Lord. George Fox was not among the guests at Drawwell. +No 'mighty Meeting,' as often at other times, was gathered there that +day. There was only a company of humble men and women seated on forms +and chairs under the black oak rafters of the big barn that adjoins +the house, since the living-room was not spacious enough to hold them +all with ease, although their numbers were not much above a score. + +The Master and Mistress of Drawwell were present of course. Good +Farmer Blaykling, with his ever ready courtesy and kindness, looked +older now than on the day, thirteen years before, when he and his +father had brought the young preacher back with them from the Fair. He +himself had known latterly what it was to suffer 'for Truth's sake,' +as some extra furrows on his brow had testified plainly since the day +when 'Priest John Burton of Sedbergh beat John Blaykling and pulled +him by the hair off his seat in his high place.' Happily that outbreak +had passed over, and all seemed quiet this Sunday morning, as he took +his place in the big barn. His wife sat by his side; around them were +their children (none of them young), the farm lads and lasses, and +several families of neighbouring Friends. But it chanced that the +youngest person present, one of the farm lasses, was well into her +teens. + +'Surely it was the loving-kindness of the Lord' (motherly Mistress +Blaykling was wont to testify in after years) 'that brought the ordeal +only upon us, grown men and women, and not upon any tender babes.' The +Meeting began, much like any other Meeting in that peaceful country, +where Friends ever loved to gather under the shadow of the hills and +the yet mightier overshadowing of the Spirit of God. The Dove of Peace +brooded over the company. Even as the unseen water bubbled in the dark +depths of the old draw-well close by, so, in the deep stillness, +already some hearts were becoming conscious of-- + + 'The bubbling of the hidden springs, + That feed the world.' + +Soon, out of the living Silence would have been born the fresh gift of +living speech.... + +When suddenly, into all this peace, there came the clattering of +horses' hoofs along the stony road that leads to the farm, followed by +loud voices and a pistol shot, as a body of troopers trotted right up +to the homestead. Finding that deserted and receiving no answers to +their shouts, they proceeded to the barn itself in search of the +assembled Friends. The officer in charge was a young Ensign, Lawrence +Hodgson, a very gay gentleman indeed, a gentleman of the Restoration, +when not only courtiers but soldiers too, knew well what it was to be +courtly. + +He came from Dent, 'with other officers of the militia and soldiers.' +Now Dent was a place of importance, in those days, and looked down on +even Sedbergh as a mere village. Wherefore to be sent off to a small +farm in the outskirts of Sedbergh in search of a nest of Quakers was a +paltry job at best for these fine gentlemen from Dent. Naturally, they +set about it, cursing and swearing with a will, to shew what brave +fellows they were. For here were all these Quakers whom they had been +sent to harry, brazening out their crime in the full light of day. By +Act of Parliament it had been declared, not so long ago either, that +any Quakers who 'assembled to the number of five or more persons at +any one time, and in any one place, under pretence of joining in a +religious worship not authorised by law, were, on conviction, to +suffer merely fines or imprisonment for their first and second +offences, but for the third, they were to be liable to be transported +to any of His Majesty's plantations beyond seas.' A serious penalty +this, in those days second only to death itself, and a terror to the +most hardened of the soldiery; but here was a handful of humble +farmfolk, deliberately daring such a punishment unafraid. + +'Stiff-necked Quakers--you shall answer for this,' shouted Ensign +Hodgson as he entered 'cursing and swearing' (so says the old account) +'and threatening that if Friends would not depart and disperse he +would kill them and slay and what not.' 'You look like hardened +offenders, all of you, and I doubt this is not a first offence.' So +saying, the Ensign set spurs to his horse and rode up and down the +barn, overturning forms and chairs, slashing at the women Friends +with the flat of his sword, while some of the roughest of his +followers poked the sharp points of their blades through the coats of +the men, 'just to remind you, Quaker dogs, of what we could do, an' we +chose.' + +Amid all this noise and hurly-burly, the men and women Friends sat on +in stillness as long as possible. Only when their seats were actually +overturned, they rose to their feet and stood upright in their places. +They were ready to be beaten or trampled upon, if necessary; but they +would not, of their own will, quit their ground. Strangely enough, the +wives did not rush to their husbands or cling to them; the men did not +seek to protect the women-folk. They all remained, even the lads and +lasses, self-poised as it were, one company still; resting, as long as +they could, quietly, in the inward citadel of peace. In spite of all +the hubbub, the true spirit of worship was not disturbed. + +At last the soldiers, determined not to be baffled, came to yet closer +quarters and drove their unresisting victims, willy nilly, before them +from under the sheltering rafters of the barn. The Friends were +roughly hustled down the steep hillside and driven hither and thither, +but still the meeting was not interrupted, for their hearts could not +be driven out from the overshadowing presence of God. + +So the great fells looked down upon a strange scene a few minutes +later,--a strange scene, yet one all too common in those days. A +cavalcade of glittering horsemen with their flowing perukes, ruffles, +gay coats, plumed hats, and all the extravagances of the costume of +even the fighting man of 'good King Charles's golden days.' In the +centre of this gay throng, a little company of Friends in their plain +garments of homespun and duffel, moving along, with sober faces and +downcast eyes, speaking never a word as their captors prepared to +force them to their destination--the Justice's house at Ingmire Hall +near Sedbergh. + +Now from Drawwell Farm to Ingmire is some little distance. The way is +hilly, and the roads are narrow and rough. Bad going it is on those +roads even to-day, and far worse in the times of which I write. +Therefore the troopers quickly grew weary of their task, weary of +trying to rein in their mettlesome horses to keep pace with the slow +steps of their prisoners, weary, too, of even the sport of pricking at +these last with their swords, to try to make them go faster. + +They had barely reached the bottom of the slope when Ensign Hodgson, +ever a restless youth, lost patience. As soon as he found his horse on +a bit of level road, he called to his men, 'Halloo! here's our chance +for a canter!--We'll leave the Lambs to follow us to the +slaughter-house at their own sweet will.' Then, seeing mingled relief +and consternation on the men's faces, he slapped his thighs with a +loud laugh and said: 'Ye silly fellows, have no fear! No Quaker ever +yet tried to escape from gaol, nor ever will. We can trust them to +follow us in our absence as well as if we were here to drive them. +Quakers haven't the wit to seek after their own safety.' + +The audacity of the plan tickled the troopers. Following Hodgson's +example, they, one and all, raised their plumed hats and, rising high +in their stirrups, bowed with mock courtesy, as they took leave of +their prisoners. + +'Farewell, sweet Lambkins,' called out the Ensign, 'hasten your Quaker +pace and meet us at the slaughter-house at Ingmire Hall as fast as you +can, OR' ... he cocked his pistol at them, and then, dashing it up, +fired a shot into the air. With wild shouting and laughter the whole +troop disappeared round a turn of the road. 'To Sedbergh,' they cried, +'to Sedbergh first! Plenty of time for a carouse, and yet to arrive at +Ingmire Hall as soon as the Lambs!' + +Arriving in Sedbergh at a canter they slackened rein at a tavern and +refreshed themselves with a draught of ale and an hour's carouse, +before setting off to meet their prisoners at the Justice's house. + +When they arrived at Ingmire Hall, to their dismay, not a Quaker was +in sight. Sending his men off to scour the roads, Ensign Hodgson +himself dismounted with an oath on Justice Otway's doorstep, and went +within to inquire if the Quakers from Drawwell had yet arrived. + +'The Quakers, WHOM YOU WERE SENT TO FETCH from Drawwell and for whose +non-appearance you are yourself wholly responsible, HAVE NOT ARRIVED,' +answered the Justice tartly, raising his eyebrows as if to emphasise +his words. All men knew that good Sir John Otway was no friend to +persecution; and gay Lawrence Hodgson was no favourite of his. + +With a louder oath than that with which he had entered the house, the +Ensign flung out of it again, and rode off at the head of his men--all +of them discomfited by their vain search, for not a Quaker was to be +seen in the neighbourhood. The 'Lambs' were less docile than had been +supposed. After all, they had successfully managed to avoid the +'slaughter-house'; they must have retreated to Drawwell, if they had +not even seized the opportunity to escape. + +Back again along the road to Drawwell, therefore, the whole sulky +company of horsemen were obliged to return, much out of humour. +Cursing their leader's carelessness, as he doubtless cursed his own +folly, they trotted along, gloomily enough, till they came to the bend +of the road where the homestead comes in sight, and where they had +taken leave of their prisoners. There, as they turned the corner, +suddenly they all stopped, thunderstruck, pulling their horses back on +to their haunches in their amazement. + +The Lambs had not escaped! Though they had not followed meekly to the +slaughter-house, at least they had made no endeavours to flee, or even +to return to the sheepfold on the hillside above them. All the time +that the soldiers had been carousing in the alehouse, or searching the +lanes, the little company of Friends had remained in the very same +spot where the soldiers had left them nearly two hours before. + +And there they were still, every one of them;--sitting on the green, +grassy bank by the wayside. There they were, quietly going on with +their uninterrupted worship. Yes; out there, under the shadow of the +everlasting hills, untroubled by the shadow of even a passing cloud of +fear, the Friends calmly continued to wait upon God. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[32] This paragraph is taken from E.E. Taylor's description of +Drawwell. + + + + +XXIII. BUTTERFLIES IN THE FELLS + + + + + _'My concern for God and His holy, + eternal truth was then in the + North, where God had placed and + set me.'--MARGARET FOX._ + + + _'I should be glad if thou would + incline to come home, that thou + might get a little Rest, methinks + its the most comfortable when one + has a home to be there, but the + Lord give us patience to bear all + things'--M. FOX to G. Fox, 1681._ + + + _'I did not stir much abroad + during the time I now stayed in + the North; but when Friends were + not with me spent pretty much time + in writing books and papers for + Truth's service.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'All dear Friends press forward + in the straight way.'--JOHN AUDLAND._ + + + _'Is not liberty of conscience in + religion a fundamental?... Liberty + of conscience is a natural right, + and he that would have it, ought to + give it, having liberty to settle + what he likes for the public.... + This I say is fundamental: it ought + to be so. It is for us and the + generations to come.'--OLIVER + CROMWELL._ + + + + +XXIII. BUTTERFLIES IN THE FELLS + + +Above all other Saints in the Calendar, the good people of +Newcastle-upon-Tyne do hold in highest honour Saint Nicholas, since to +him is dedicated the stately Church that is the pride and glory of +their town. Everyone who dwells in the bonnie North Countrie knows +well that shrine of Saint Nicholas, set on high on the steep northern +bank of the River Tyne. Beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole +North, is St. Nicholas. Therefore, in olden times, one Roger Thornton, +a wealthy merchant of the town, saw fit to embellish it yet further +with a window at the Eastern end, of glass stained with colours +marvellous to behold. Men said indeed that Merchant Roger clearly owed +that window to the Saint, seeing that when he first entered the town +scarce a dozen years before, he came but as a poor pedlar, possessed +of naught but 'a hap, a halfpenny, and a lambskin,' whereas these few +years spent under the shadow of the Saint's protection had made him +already a man of great estate. + +Roger Thornton it was who gave the Eastern window to the Church, but +none know now, for certain, who first embellished the shrine with its +crowning gift, the tall steeple that gathers to itself not only the +affection of all those who dwell beneath its shadow, but also their +glory and their pride. Some believe it was built by King David of +Scotland: others by one Robert de Rede, since his name may still be +seen carven upon the stone by him who has skill to look. But in truth +the architect hath carried both his name and his secret with him, and +the craftsmen of many another larger and more famous city have sought +in vain to build such another tower. By London Bridge and again at +Edinburgh, in the capitals of two fair kingdoms, may indeed be seen a +steeple built in like fashion, but far less fair. One man alone, he +whose very name hath been forgotten, hath known how to swing with +perfect grace a pinnacled Crown, formed of stone yet delicate as +lacework, aloft in highest air. Therefore to this day doth the Lantern +Tower of St. Nicholas remain without a peer. + +A Lantern Tower the learned call it, and indeed the semblance of an +open lantern doth rise, supported by pinnacles, in the centre of the +Tower; but to most men it resembles less a lantern than an Imperial +crown swung high in air, under a canopy of dazzling blue. It is a +golden crown in the daytime, as it shines on high above the hum of the +city streets in the clear mid-day light. It becomes a fiery crown when +the sun sets, for then the golden fleurs-de-lys on each of the eight +golden vanes atop of the pinnacles gleam and glow like sparks of +flame, climbing higher and ever higher into the steep and burnished +air. But it is a jewelled crown that shines by night over the +slumbering town beneath; for then the turrets and pinnacles are gemmed +with glittering stars. + +That Tower, to those who have been born under it, is one of the +dearest things upon this earth. Judge then of the dismay that was +caused to every man, woman, and child, when Newcastle was being +besieged by the Scottish army during the Civil Wars, at the message +that came from the general of the beleaguering army, that were the +town not surrendered to him without delay, he would train his guns on +the Tower of St. Nicholas itself, and lay that first in ruins. Happily +Sir John Marley, the English Commander, who was likewise Mayor of the +Town, was more than a match for the canny Scot. And this was the +answer that the gallant Sir John sent back from the beleaguered town: +that General Leslie might train his guns on the Tower and welcome, if +such were his pleasure, but if he did so, before he brought down one +single stone of it, he would be obliged to take the lives of his own +Scottish prisoners, whom the guns would find as their first target +there. + +Sir John was as good as his word. The Scottish prisoners were strung +out in companies along the Tower ledges, and kept there day after day, +till the Scottish Army had retreated, baffled for that time, and St. +Nicholas was saved. Therefore, thanks to Sir John Marley and his +nimble wit, the pinnacled Crown still soars up aloft into the sky, +keeping guard over the city of Newcastle to-day, as it hath done +throughout the centuries. + + * * * * * + +Little did the Friends, who came to Newcastle a few years after the +Scotsmen had departed, regard the beauty of St. Nicholas or its Tower. +They came also desiring to besiege the town, though with only +spiritual weapons. The Church to them was but a 'steeple-house,' and +the Tower akin to an idol. Thus slowly do men learn that 'the ways +unto God are as the number of the souls of the children of men,' and +that wherever a man truly seeketh God in whatsoever fashion, so he do +but seek honestly and with his whole heart, God will consent to be +found of him. + +Yet though the Friends who came to Newcastle came truly to besiege the +town for love's sake, not with love did the town receive them. +'Ruddy-faced John Audland' was the first to come, he who had been one +of the preachers that memorable Sunday at Firbank Chapel, and who, +having yielded place to George Fox, had been in his turn mightily +convinced of Truth. 'A man beloved of God, and of all good men,' was +John Audland, 'of an exceedingly sweet disposition, unspeakably loving +and tenderly affectionate, always ready to lend a helping hand to the +weak and needy, open-hearted, free and near to his friends, deep in +the understanding of the heavenly mysteries.' Yet little all this +availed him. In Newcastle as elsewhere he preached the Truth, 'full of +dread and shining brightness on his countenance.' Certain of the +townsfolk gathered themselves unto him and became Friends, but the +authorities would have none of the new doctrine, and straightway +clapped him into gaol. There he lay for a time, till at last he was +set free and went his way. + +After him came George Fox, when some thirteen years had gone by since +Sir John Marley saved the Tower, and General Leslie had returned +discomfited to Edinburgh. From Edinburgh, too, George Fox had come on +his homeward way after that eventful journey to the Northern Kingdom, +when 'the infinite sparks of life sparkled about him as soon as his +horse set foot across the Border.' Weary he was of riding when he +reached the gates of Newcastle-upon-Tyne. Yet 'gladded' in his heart +was he, for as he had passed by Berwick-upon-Tweed, the Governor there +had 'shewn himself loving towards Friends,' and, though only a little +Meeting had been gathered, 'the Lord's power had been over all.' As +Fox and his companion rode through the woods and beside the yellow +brown streams and over the heathery moors of Northumberland, they +found and visited many scattered Friends whose welcome had made George +Fox's heart rejoice. But no sooner had he entered the town than all +his gladness left him, at the grievous tale the faithful Friends of +Newcastle had to tell. Ever since John Audland's preaching had stirred +the souls of the townsfolk, the priests and professors had done their +best to prevent 'this pernicious poison from spreading.' Five +Newcastle priests had written a book, entitled 'the Perfect Pharisee +under Monkish Holiness,' in which they blamed Friends for many things, +but above all for their custom of preaching in the streets and open +places. 'It is a pestilent heresy at best,' they said (though they +used not these very words), 'yet did they keep it to themselves 'twere +no great harm, but we find no place hears so much of Friends' religion +as streets and market-places.' + +Yet even so their witness agreed not together. For while the priests +accused Friends of too much preaching in public, a certain Alderman of +the city, Thomas Ledger by name, put forth three other books against +them. And his main charge was this--'THAT THE QUAKERS WOULD NOT COME +INTO ANY GREAT TOWNS, BUT LIVED IN THE FELLS LIKE BUTTERFLIES.' + +George Fox, hearing these things from the Friends assembled to greet +him at the entrance to the town, was tried in his spirit, and +determined that the matter should be dealt with, without more ado. The +Journal saith: 'The Newcastle priests wrote many books against us, +and one Ledger, an Alderman of the town, was very envious of truth and +friends. He and the priests had said, "the Quakers would not come into +great towns, but lived in the fells like butterflies." I took Anthony +Pearson with me and went to this Ledger, and several others of the +Aldermen, desiring to have a meeting among them, seeing they had +written so many things against us: for we were now come, I told them, +into their great town. But they would not yield we should have a +meeting, neither would they be spoke with, save only this Ledger and +one other. I queried: "Had they not called Friends Butterflies, and +said we would not come into any great towns? And now they would not +come at us, though they had printed books against us; WHO ARE THE +BUTTERFLIES NOW?" + +'As we could not have a public meeting amongst them we got a little +meeting amongst friends and friendly people at the Gate-side. As I was +passing by the market-side, the power of the Lord rose in me, to warn +them of the day of the Lord that was coming upon them. And not long +after all the priests were turned out of their profession, when the +King came in.' + +Thus did those same envious priests, who had accused Friends of living +like butterflies in the fells, become themselves as butterflies, being +chased out of the great town, and forced to flit to and fro in the +open country. The Friends, meanwhile, increased on both sides of the +river Tyne. In 1657 George Whitehead visited Newcastle, and was kindly +received in the house of one John Dove, who had been a Lieutenant in +the army before he became a Friend. + +Whitehead, himself one of the 'Valiant Sixty,' writes:--'The Mayor of +the town (influenced by the priests), would not suffer us to keep any +meeting within the Liberty of the Town, though in Gate-side (being out +of the Mayor's Liberty), our Friends had settled a meeting at our +beloved Friend Richard Ubank's house.... The first meeting we then +endeavoured to have within the town of Newcastle was in a large room +taken on purpose by some Friends.... The meeting was not fully +gathered when the Mayor of the Town and his Officers came, and by +force turned us out of the meeting; and not only so, but out of the +Town also; for the Mayor and his Company commanded us and went along +with us as far as the Bridge over the river Tine that parts Newcastle +and Gates-head, upon which Bridge there is a Blew Stone to which the +Mayor's Liberty extends; when we came to the stone, the Mayor gave his +charge to each of us in these words: "I charge and command you in the +name of His Highness the Lord Protector. That you come no more into +Newcastle to have any more meetings there at your peril.'" + +The Friends, therefore, continued to meet at the place that is called +Gateside (though some say that Goat's head was the name of it at +first), and there they remained till, after divers persecutions, they +were at length suffered to assemble within the walls of Newcastle +itself, upon the north side of the 'Blew Stone' above the River Tyne. +Here, in 1698, they bought a plot of ground, within a stone's-throw of +St. Nicholas, facing towards the street that the townsmen call Pilgrim +Street, since thither in olden days did many weary pilgrims wend their +way, seeking to come unto the Mound of Jesu on the outskirts of the +town. And that same Mound of Jesu is now called by men, Jesu Mond, or +shorter, Jesmond, and no longer is it the resort of pilgrims, but +rather of merchants and pleasure seekers. Yet still beside the Pilgrim +Street stands the Meeting-House built by those other pilgrim souls, +those Quakers, whom the men of the town in scorn called 'butterflies.' +And there, so far from flitting over the fells, they have continued to +hold their Meetings and worship God after their own fashion within +those walls for more than two hundred years. + + * * * * * + +Before ever this had come to pass, and while the Quakers of Newcastle +were still without an assembling place on their own side of the river, +it happened that a certain man among them, named Robert Jeckel, being +nigh unto death (though as yet he knew it not), was seized with a +vehement desire to behold George Fox yet once more in the flesh, since +full sixteen years had gone by since his visit to the town. + +Wherefore this same Robert Jeckel, hearing that his beloved friend was +now again to be found at Swarthmoor, dwelling there in much seclusion, +seeking to regain the strength that had been sorely wasted in long and +terrible imprisonments,--this man, Robert Jeckel, would no longer be +persuaded or gainsaid, but set out at once with several others, who +were like-minded and desirous to come as speedily as might be to +Swarthmoor. + +In good heart they set forth, but that same day, and before they had +come even as far as unto Hexham, Robert Jeckel was seized with a sore +sickness, whereat his friends entreated him to return the way he came +to his own home and tender wife. But he refused to be dissuaded and +would still press forward. At many other places by the way he was ill +and suffering, yet he would not be satisfied to turn back or to stop +until he should arrive at Swarthmoor. And thither after many days of +sore travel he came. + +The Mistress of Swarthmoor was now no longer Margaret Fell but +Margaret Fox. Eight full years after the death of her honoured +husband, Judge Fell, and after long waiting to be sure that the thing +was from the Lord, she had been united in marriage with her beloved +friend, George Fox, unto whom she was ever a most loving and dutiful +wife. Therefore, when Robert Jeckel arrived with his friends before +the high arched stone gateway that led into the avenue that +approacheth Swarthmoor Hall, it was Mistress Fox, who, with her +husband, came to meet their guests. Close behind followed her youngest +daughter, Rachel Fell, the Seventh Sister of Swarthmoor Hall. She, the +Judge's pet and plaything in her childhood, was now a woman grown. +Seeing by Robert Jeckel's countenance that he was sorely stricken, +Mistress Fox led him straight to the fair guest chamber of Swarthmoor, +where she and her daughter nursed him with their wonted tenderness and +skill, hoping thus, if it might be, to restore him to his home in +peace. But it had been otherwise ordained, for Robert Jeckel, arriving +at Swarthmoor on the second day of the fifth month that men call July, +lay sick there but for nine days and then he died. + +During his illness many and good words did he say, among others these: +'Though I was persuaded to stay by the way (being indisposed), before +I came to this place, yet this was the place where I would have been, +and the place where I should be, whether I live or die.' + +George Fox, being himself, as I say, weakened by his long suffering in +Worcester Gaol, was yet able to visit Robert Jeckel as he lay a-dying, +and exhorted him to offer up his soul and spirit to the Lord, who +gives life and breath to all and takes it again. Whereupon Robert +Jeckel lifted up his hands and said, 'The Lord is worthy of it, and I +have done it.' George Fox then asked him if he could say, 'Thy will, +oh God, be done on earth as it is in heaven,' and he, lifting up his +hands again, and looking upwards with his eyes, answered cheerfully, +'he did it.' + +Then, he in his turn, exhorting those about him, said: 'Dear Friends, +dwell in love and unity together, and keep out of jars, strife, and +contentions, and be sure to continue faithful to the end.' And +speaking of his wife, he said, 'As to my wife, I give her up freely to +the Lord; for she loveth the Lord and He will love her. I have often +told my dear wife, as to what we have of outward things, it was the +Lord's first before it was ours; and in that I desire she may serve +the truth to the end of her days.' + +'In much patience the Lord did keep him, and he was in perfect sense +and memory all the time of his weakness, often saying, "Dear Friends, +give me up and weep not for me, for I am content with the Lord's +doings." And often said that he had no pain, but gradually declined, +often lifting up his hands while he had strength, praising the Lord, +and made a comfortable end on the 11th day of the fifth month, 1676.' + +Thus did the joyful spirit of this dear friend at last take flight +for the Heavenly Country, when, as he said himself in his sickness, +'Soul separated from body, the Spirit returning to God that gave it, +and the body to the earth from whence it came.' + +Yea, verily; his soul took flight for the Heavenly Country, happier in +its escape from the worn chrysalis of his weak and weary body than any +glad-winged butterfly that flitteth over the fells of his own beloved +Northumberland. + + + + +XXIV. THE VICTORY OF AMOR STODDART + + + + + _'From the heart of the Puritan + sects sprang the religion of the + Quakers, in which many a war-worn + soldier of the Commonwealth closed + his visionary eyes.'--G.M. + TREVELYAN._ + + + _'To be a man of war means to live + no longer than the life of the + world, which is perishing; but to + be a man of the Holy Spirit, a man + born of God, a man that wars not + after the flesh, a man of the + Kingdom of God, as well as of + England--that means to live beyond + time and age and men and the + world, to be gathered into that + life which is Eternal.'--JOHN + SALTMARSH, 1647._ + + + _'Keep out of all jangling, for + all that are in the transgression + are out from the law of love; but + all that are in the law of love + come to the Lamb's power.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'He changed his weapons, warfare, + and Captain ... when he 'listed + himself under the banner of + Christ.'--W. PENN, about J. + Whitehead._ + + + _A prayer for the soldier spirit. + 'Teach us, good Lord, to serve Thee + as Thou deservest: to give and not + to count the cost; to fight and not + to heed the wounds; to toil and not + to seek for rest; to labour and not + to ask for any reward, save that of + knowing that we do Thy will: + through Jesus Christ our + Lord.'--IGNATIUS LOYOLA._ + + + + +XXIV. THE VICTORY OF AMOR STODDART + + 'Christ disarmed Peter, and in so doing He unbuckled the sword + of every soldier.' + TERTULLIAN. + + +A dauntless fighter in his day was Captain Amor Stoddart, seeing he +had served in the Parliamentary Army throughout the Civil Wars. In +truth, it was no child's play to command a body of men as tough as +Oliver's famous Ironsides. Therefore Captain Stoddart had doubtless +come through many a bloody struggle, and fought in many a hardly +fought contest during those long wars, before the final victory was +won. + +But now, not a single memory remains of his small individual share in +those + + 'Old unhappy, far-off things, + And battles long ago.' + +His story has come down to us as a staunch comrade and a valiant +fighter, in a different kind of warfare. His victory was won in a +struggle in which all the visible weapons were on the other side; +when, through long years, he had only the armour of meekness and of +love wherewith to oppose hardship and violence and wrong. + +Wherefore, of this fight and of this victory, his own name remains as +a symbol and a sign. Not in vain was he called at his birth 'Amor,' +which, in the Latin tongue signifies 'Love,' as all men know. + +The first meeting between Captain Amor Stoddart and him who was to be +thereafter his spirit's earthly captain in the new strange warfare +that lay before him, happened on this wise. + +In the year 1648, when the long Civil Wars were at last nearing their +close, George Fox visited Mansfield in Nottinghamshire and held a +meeting with the professors (that is to say the Puritans) there. It +was in that same year of 1648, when every day the shadow was drawing +nearer of the fatal scaffold that should be erected within the Palace +at Whitehall the following January. But although that shadow crept +daily nearer, men, for the most part, as yet perceived it not. Fox +himself was at this time still young, as years are counted, being only +twenty-four years of age. Four other summers were yet to pass before +that memorable day when he should climb to the summit of old Pendle +Hill, and, after seeing there the vision of a 'great people to be +gathered,' should begin himself to gather them at Firbank and +Swarthmoor and many another place. + +George, though still young in years, was already possessed not only of +a strange and wonderful presence, but also of a gift to perceive and +to draw the souls of other men, and to knit them to his own. + +'I went again to Mansfield,' he says in his Journal, 'where was a +Great Meeting of professors and people, where I was moved to pray; and +the Lord's power was so great that the house seemed to be shaken. When +I had done, one of the professors said, "It was now as in the days of +the Apostles, when the house was shaken where they were."' + +After Fox had finished praying, with this vehemence that seemed to +shake the house, one of the professors began to pray in his turn, but +in such a dead and formal way that even the other professors were +grieved thereat and rebuked him. Whereupon this praying professor came +in all humility to Fox, beseeching him that he would pray again. +'But,' says Fox, 'I could not pray in any man's will.' Still, though +he could not make a prayer to order, he agreed to meet with these same +professors another day. + +This second meeting was another 'Great Meeting.' From far and wide the +professors and people gathered to see the man who had learnt to pray. +But the professors did not truly seem to care to learn the secret. +They went on talking and arguing together. They were 'jangling,' as +Fox calls it (that is to say, using endless strings of words to talk +about sacred things, without really feeling the truth of them in their +hearts), jangling all together, when suddenly the door opened and a +grave young officer walked in. ''Tis Captain Amor Stoddart, of Noll's +Army,' the professors said one to another, as, hardly stopping for a +moment at the stranger's entrance, they continued to 'jangle' among +themselves. They went on, speaking of the most holy things, talking +even about the blood of Christ, without any feeling of solemnity, till +Fox could bear it no longer. + +'As they were discoursing of it,' he says, 'I saw through the +immediate opening of the invisible Spirit, the blood of Christ; and +cried out among them saying, "Do you not see the blood of Christ? See +it in your hearts, to sprinkle your hearts and consciences from dead +works to serve the living God?" For I saw the blood of the New +Covenant how it came into the heart. This startled the professors who +would have the blood only without them, and not in them. But Captain +Stoddart was reached, and said, "Let the youth speak, hear the youth +speak," when he saw that they endeavoured to bear me down with many +words.' + +'Captain Stoddart was reached.' He, the soldier, accustomed to the +terrible realities of a battlefield, knew the sight of blood for +himself only too well. George Fox's words may seem perhaps mysterious +to us now, but they came home to Amor and made him able to see +something of the same vision that Fox saw. We may not be able to see +that vision ourselves, but at least we can feel the difference between +having the Blood of Christ, that is the Life of Christ, within our +hearts, and only talking and 'jangling' about it, as the professors +were doing. 'Captain Stoddart was reached.' Having been 'reached,' +having seen, if only for one moment, something of what the Cross had +meant to Christ, and having felt His Life within, Amor became a +different man. To take the lives of his fellowmen, to shed their blood +for whom that Blood had been shed, was henceforth for him impossible. +He unbuckled his sword, and resigning his captaincy in Oliver's +conquering army, just when victory was at hand after the stern +struggle, he followed his despised Quaker teacher into obscurity. + +For seven long years we hear nothing more of him. Then he appears +again at George Fox's side, no longer Captain Stoddart the Officer, +but plain Amor Stoddart, a comrade and helper of the first Publishers +of Truth. + +In the year 1655, Fox's Journal records: 'On the sixth day I had a +large meeting near Colchester[33] to which many professors and the +Independent teachers came. After I had done speaking and was stepped +down from the place on which I stood, one of the Independent teachers +began to make a "jangling" [it seems they still went on jangling, even +after seven long years!], which Amor Stoddart perceiving said, "Stand +up again, George!" for I was going away and did not at the first hear +them.' + +If Amor Stoddart had unbuckled his sword, evidently he had not lost +the power of grappling with difficulties, of swiftly seeing the right +thing to do, and of giving his orders with soldier-like precision. + +'Stand up again, George!'--a quick, military command, in the fewest +possible words. George Fox was more in the habit of commanding other +people than of being commanded himself; but he knew his comrade and +obeyed without a word. + +'I stood up again,' he says, 'when I heard the Independent [the man +who had been jangling], and after a while the Lord's power came over +him and all his company, who were confounded, and the Lord's truth was +over all. A great flock of sheep hath the Lord in that country that +feed in His pastures of life.' + +Nevertheless, without Amor Stoddart the sheep would have gone away +hungry, and would not have been fed at that meeting. + +Again we hear of Amor a little later in the same year, still at George +Fox's side, but this time not as a passive spectator, nor even merely +as a resourceful comrade. He was now himself to be a sufferer for the +Truth. He still lives for us through his share in a strange but +wonderful scene of George Fox's life. A few months after the meeting +at Colchester, the two friends visited Cambridge, and 'there,' says +Fox in his Journal, 'the scholars, hearing of me, were up and were +exceeding rude. I kept on my horse's back and rode through them in the +Lord's power. "Oh," said they, "HE SHINES, HE GLISTERS," but they +unhorsed Amor Stoddart before we could get to the inn. When we were in +the inn they were so rude in the courts and the streets, so that the +miners, colliers, and carters could never be ruder. And the people of +the inn asked us 'what we would have for supper' as is the way of +inns. "Supper," said I, "were it not that the Lord's power is over +them, these rude scholars look as if they would pluck us in pieces and +make a supper of us!"' + +After this treatment, the two friends might have been expected to keep +away from Cambridge in the future; but that was not their way. Where +the fight was hottest, there these two faithful soldiers of the Cross +were sure to be found. The very next year saw Fox back in +Cambridgeshire once more; and again Amor Stoddart was with him, +standing by his side and sharing all dangers like a valiant and +faithful friend. + +'I passed into Cambridgeshire,' the Journal continues, 'and into the +fen country, where I had many meetings, and the Lord's truth spread. +Robert Craven, who had been Sheriff of Lincoln, was with me [it would +be interesting to know more about Robert Craven, and where and how he +was "reached"], and Amor Stoddart and Alexander Parker. We went to +Crowland, a very rude place; for the townspeople were got together at +the inn we went to, and were half drunk, both priest and people. I +reproved them for their drunkenness and warned them of the day of the +Lord that was coming upon all the wicked; exhorting them to leave +their wickedness and to turn to the Lord in time. While I was thus +speaking to them the priest and the clerk broke out into a rage, and +got up the tongs and fire-shovel at us, so that had not the Lord's +power preserved us we might have been murdered amongst them. Yet, for +all their rudeness and violence, some received the truth then, and +have stood in it ever since.' + +George Fox was not the only man to find a faithful and staunch +supporter in Amor Stoddart. There is another glimpse of him, again +standing at a comrade's side in time of danger, but the comrade in +this case is not Fox but 'dear William Dewsbury,' one of the best +loved of all the early Friends. + +Amor Stoddart was Dewsbury's companion that sore day at Bristol when +the tidings came from New England overseas, that the first two Quaker +Martyrs, William Robinson and Marmaduke Stevenson, had been hanged for +their faith on Boston Common. Heavy at heart were the Bristol Friends +at the news, and not they only, for assembled with them were some New +England Friends who had been banished from their families and from +their homes, under pain of the same death that the martyrs had +suffered. + +'We were bowed down unto our God,' Dewsbury writes, 'and prayer was +made unto Him when there came a knocking at the door. It came upon my +spirit that it was the rude people, and the life of God did mightily +arise, and they had no power to come in until we were clear before +our God. Then they came in, setting the house about with muskets and +lighted matches. So after a season of this they came into the room, +where I was and Amor Stoddart with me. I looked upon them when they +came into the room, and they cried as fast as they could well speak, +"We will be civil! We will be civil!" + +'I spoke these words, "See that you be so." They ran forth out of the +room and came no more into it, but ran up and down in the house with +their weapons in their hands, and the Lord God caused their hearts to +fail and they passed away, and not any harm done to any of us.' + +Eleven years after this pass in almost complete silence, as far as +Amor is concerned. Occasionally we hear the bare mention of his name +among the London Friends. One short entry in Fox's Journal speaks of +him as having 'buried his wife.' Then the veil lifts again and shows +one more glimpse of him. It is the last. + +In 1670, twenty-two years after that first meeting at Mansfield, when +Captain Stoddart came into the room, and said, 'Let the youth speak,' +George Fox, now a man worn with his sufferings and service, came into +another room to bid farewell to his old comrade as he lay a-dying. Fox +himself had been brought near to death not long before, but he knew +that his work was not yet wholly finished, he was not yet 'fully +clear' in his Master's sight. + +'Under great sufferings, sorrows, and oppressions I lay several +weeks,' he writes in his Journal, 'whereby I was brought so low that +few thought I could live. When those about me had given me up to die, +I spoke to them to get me a coach to carry me to Gerard Roberts, +about twelve miles off, for I found it was my place to go thither. So +I went down a pair of stairs to the coach, and when I came to the +coach I was like to have fallen down, I was so weak and feeble, but I +got up into the coach, and some friends with me. When I came to +Gerard's, after I had stayed about three weeks there, it was with me +to go to Enfield. Friends were afraid of my removing, but I told them +that I might safely go. When I had taken my leave of Gerard and had +come to Enfield, I went first to visit Amor Stoddart, who lay very +weak and almost speechless. I was moved to tell him "that he had been +faithful as a man and faithful to God, and the immortal Seed of Life +was his crown." Many more words I was moved to speak to him, though I +was then so weak, I could scarcely stand, and within a few days after, +Amor died.' + +That is all. Very simply he passes out of sight, having heard his +comrade's 'well done':--this valiant soldier who renounced his sword. + +His name, AMOR, still holds the secret of his power, his silent +patience, and of his victory, for + + 'OMNIA VINCIT AMOR.' + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[33] It was on this visit to Colchester that George Fox had his +farewell interview with James Parnell, imprisoned in the Castle. + + + + +XXV. THE MARVELLOUS VOYAGE OF THE GOOD SHIP 'WOODHOUSE' + + + + + _'In the 17th Century England was + peculiarly rich, if not in great + mystics, at any rate in mystically + minded men. Mysticism, it seems, + was in the air; broke out under + many disguises and affected many + forms of life.'--E. UNDERHILL, + 'Mysticism.'_ + + + _'He who says "Yes," responds, + obeys, co-operates, and allows + this resident seed of God, or + Christ Light, to have full sway in + him, becomes transformed thereby + and recreated into likeness to + Christ by whom the inner seed was + planted, and of whose nature it + is.'--RUFUS M. JONES._ + + + _'Through winds and tides, one + compass guides.'--A.H. CLOUGH._ + + + _'Have mercy upon me, O God, for + Thine ocean is so great, and my + little bark is so small.'--Breton + Fisherman's Prayer._ + + + _'Be faithful and still, till the + winds cease and the storm be over.' + ... 'Friends' fellowship must be in + the Spirit, and all Friends must + know one another in the Spirit and + power of God.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'Christopher Holder and I are + going ... in obedience to the will + of our God, whose will is our + joy.'--JOHN COPELAND. 1657._ + + + _'The log of the little + "Woodhouse" has become a sacred + classic.'--WILLIAM LITTLEBOY, + Swarthmoor Lecture, 1917._ + + + + +XXV. THE MARVELLOUS VOYAGE OF THE GOOD SHIP 'WOODHOUSE' + + +Master Robert Fowler of Burlington was a well-known figure in all the +fishing towns and villages along the Yorkshire coast in the year of +grace 1657. A man of substance was he, a master mariner, well skilled +in his craft; building his own ships and sailing them withal, and +never to be turned back from an adventurous voyage. Many fine vessels +he had, sailing over the broad waters, taking the Yorkshire cargoes of +wool and hides to distant lands, and bringing back foreign goods in +exchange, to be sold again at a profit on his return to old England's +shores. Thus up and down the Yorkshire coast men spoke and thought +highly of Master Robert Fowler's judgment in all matters pertaining to +the sea. On land, too, he seemed prudent and skilful, though some +folks looked at him askance of late years, since he had joined himself +to that strange and perverse people known as the Quakers. + +Yet, in spite of what his neighbours considered his new-fangled +religion, Master Robert Fowler was prospering in all his worldly +affairs. Even now on the sunny day when our story opens, he was hard +at work putting the last touches to a new boat of graceful proportions +and gallant curves, that bade fair to be a yet more notable seafarer +than any of her distant sisters. + +Why then did Master Robert Fowler pause more than once in his work to +heave a deep sigh, and throw down his tools almost pettishly? Why did +he suddenly put his fingers in his ears as if to shut out an unwelcome +sound, resuming his work thereafter with double speed? No one was +speaking to him. The mid-day air was very still. The haze that often +broods over the north-east coast veiled the horizon. Sea and sky +melted into one another till it was impossible to say where earth +ended and heaven began. An unwonted silence reigned even on Burlington +Quay. No sound was to be heard save for the tap, tap, tap of Master +Robert Fowler's hammer. + +Again he dropped his tools. Again he looked up to the sky, as if he +were listening to an unseen voice. + +Someone was truly speaking to him, though no faintest sound vibrated +on the air. His inward ear heard clearly these words-- + +'THOU HAST HER NOT FOR NOTHING.' + +His eyes travelled proudly over the nearly completed vessel. Every one +of her swelling curves he knew by heart; had learned to know and love +through long months of toil. How still she lay, the beauty, still as a +bird, poising on the sea. Ah! but the day was coming when she would +spread her wings and skim over the ocean, buoyant and dainty as one of +the terns, those sea-swallows that with their sharp white wings even +now were hovering round her. Built for use she was too, not merely to +take the eye. Although small of size more bales of goods could be +stowed away under her shapely decks than in many another larger +clumsier vessel. Who should know this better than Robert, her maker, +who had planned it all? + +For what had he planned her? + +Was it for the voyage to the Eastern Mediterranean that had been the +desire of his heart for many years? How well he knew it, that voyage +he had never made! Down the Channel he would go, past Ushant and +safely across the Bay. Then, when Finisterre had dropped to leeward, +it would be but a few days' sail along the pleasant coasts of Portugal +till Gibraltar was reached. And then, heigh ho! for a fair voyage in +the summer season, week after week over a calm blue sea to the +land-locked harbour where flat-roofed, white-walled houses, stately +palm-trees, rosy domes and minarets, mirrored in the still water, +gazed down at their own reflections. + +Was the _Woodhouse_ for this? + +He had planned her for this dream voyage. + +Why then came that other Voice in his heart directly he began to +build: 'FASHION THEE A SHIP FOR THE SERVICE OF TRUTH!' And now that +she was nearly completed, why did the Voice grow daily more insistent, +giving ever clearer directions? + +What a bird she was! His own bird of the sea, his beautiful +_Woodhouse_! So thought Master Robert Fowler. But then again came the +insistent Voice within, speaking yet more clearly and distinctly than +ever before: 'THOU HAST HER NOT FOR NOTHING.' + +The vision of his sea-swallow, her white wings gleaming in the sun as +she dropped anchor in that still harbour; the vision of the white and +rose-coloured city stretched like an encircling arm around the +turquoise waters, these dreams faded relentlessly from his sight. +Instead he saw the _Woodhouse_ beating up wearily against a bleak and +rugged shore on which grey waves were breaking. Angry, white teeth +those giant breakers showed; teeth that would grind a dainty boat to +pieces with no more compunction than a dog who snaps at a fly. Must he +take her there? A vision of that inhospitable shore was constantly +with him as he worked. 'New England was presented before him.' Day +after day he drove the thought from him. Night after night it +returned. + +'Thou hast her not for nothing. She is needed for the service of +Truth.' Master Robert Fowler grew lean and wan with inward struggle, +but yield his will he could not, yet disobey the Voice he did not +dare. When his wife and children asked what ailed him he answered not, +or gave a surly reply. Truth to tell, he avoided their company all he +could,--and yet a look was in his eyes when they did not notice as if +he had never before felt them half so dear. At length the +long-expected day arrived when the completed vessel sailed graciously +out to sea. But there was no gaiety on board, as there had been when +her sister ships had departed. No cargo had she. No farewells were +said. Master Robert Fowler stole aboard when all beside were sleeping. +The _Woodhouse_ slipped from the grey harbour into the grey sea, +noiselessly as a bird. None of the crew knew what ailed the master, +nor why his door was locked for long hours thereafter, until the +Yorkshire coast first drew dim, and then faded from the horizon. He +would not even tell them whither the vessel was bound. 'Keep a +straight course; come back at four bells, and then I will direct you,' +was all his answer, when the mate knocked at his door for orders. + +But within the cabin a man was wrestling with himself upon his knees; +till at last in agony he cried: 'E'en take the boat, Lord, an so Thou +wilt, for I have no power to give her Thee. Yet truly she is Thine.' + + * * * * * + +At that same hour in London an anxious little company was gathered in +a house at the back side of Thomas Apostles Church, over the door of +which swung the well-known sign of the Fleur-de-luce. + +The master of the house, Friend Gerard Roberts, a merchant of Watling +Street, sat at the top of the table in a small upper room. The anxiety +on his countenance was reflected in the faces round his board. Seven +men and four women were there, all soberly clad as befitted +ministering Friends. They were not eating or drinking, but solemnly +seeking for guidance. + +'Can no ship then be found to carry us to the other side? For truly +the Lord's word is as a fire and hammer in me, though in the outward +appearance there is no likelihood of getting passage,' one Friend was +saying. + +'Ships in plenty there are bound for New England, but ne'er a one that +is willing to carry even one Quaker, let alone eleven,' Friend Roberts +answered. 'The colonists' new laws are strict, and their punishments +are savage. I know, Friends, ye are all ready, aye and willing, to +suffer in the service of Truth. It is not merely the threatened +cropping of the ears of every Quaker who sets foot ashore that is the +difficulty. It is the one hundred pounds fine for every Quaker landed, +not levied on the Friends themselves, mind you--that were simple--but +on the owner of the boat in which they shall have voyaged. This it is +that hinders your departure. It were not fair to ask a man to run such +risk. It is not fair. Yet already I have asked many in vain. Way doth +not open. We must needs leave it, and see if the concern abides.' + +Clear as a bell rose the silvery tones of a young woman Friend, one who +had been formerly a serving-maid at Cammsgill Farm: 'Commit thy way +unto the Lord, trust also in Him, and He shall bring it to pass. Shall +not He who setteth a bound to the sea that it shall not pass over, and +taketh up the isles as a very little thing--shall not He be trusted to +find a ship for His servants who trust in Him, to enable them to +perform His will?' As the clear bell-like tones died away the little +company, impelled by a united instinct, sank into a silence in which +time passed unnoticed. Suddenly, at the same moment, a weight seemed to +be removed from the hearts of all. They clasped hands and separated. +And at that very moment, although they knew it not, far away on the +broad seas, a man, wrestling on his knees in the cabin of his vessel, +was saying with bitter tears, 'E'en take, Lord, an so Thou wilt, though +I have no power to give her to Thee. Yet truly she is Thine.' When four +bells were sounded on the good ship _Woodhouse_, and a knock came to +the door of the cabin as the mate asked for directions, it was in a +steady voice that Master Robert Fowler replied from within, 'Mark a +straight course for London; and after--whithersoever the Lord may +direct.' + +Blithely and gaily henceforward the _Woodhouse_ skimmed her way to the +mouth of the Thames and dropped anchor at the port of London. But as +yet Master Robert Fowler knew nothing of the anxious group of Friends +waiting to be taken to New England on the service of Truth (five of +them having already been deported thence for the offence of being +Quakers, yet anxious to return and take six others with them). Neither +did these Friends know anything of Master Robert Fowler, nor of his +good ship _Woodhouse_. + +Yet, though unknown to each other, he and they alike were well known +to One Heart, were guided by One Hand, were listening to the +directions of One Voice. Therefore, though it may seem a strange +chance, it was not wonderful really that within a few hours of the +arrival of the _Woodhouse_ in the Thames Master Robert Fowler and +Friend Gerard Roberts met each other face to face in London City. Nor +was it strange that the ship's captain should be moved to tell the +merchant of the exercise of his spirit about his ship. In truth all +Friends who visited London in those days were wont to unburden +themselves of their perplexities to the master of that hospitable +house over whose doorway swung the sign of the Fleur-de-luce. Lightly +he told it--almost as a jest--the folly of the notion that a vessel of +such small tonnage could be needed to face the terrors of the terrible +Atlantic. Surely a prudent merchant like Friend Roberts would tell him +to pay no heed to visions and inner voices, and such like idle +notions? But Gerard Roberts did not scoff. He listened silently. A +look almost of awe stole over his face. The first words he uttered +were, 'It is the Lord's doing and it is marvellous in our eyes.' And +at these words Master Robert Fowler's heart sank down, down like +lead. + +Long afterwards, describing the scene, he says: 'Also when (the +vessel) was finished and freighted, and made to sea, contrary to my +will, was brought to London, where, speaking touching this matter to +Gerard Roberts and others, they confirmed the matter in behalf of the +Lord, that it must be so.' + +'It must be so.' This is the secret of Guidance from that day to this. +The Inner Voice alone is not always enough for action; the outer need +or claim of service alone is not necessarily a call. But when the +Inner Voice and the outer need come together, then truly the will of +the Lord is plain, and 'It must be so.' + +Master Robert Fowler was not yet willing or ready to sacrifice his own +wishes. A decisive victory is not to be won in one battle, however +severe, but only throughout the stress of a long campaign. The +struggle in his cabin, when he allowed the ship's head to be turned +towards London, must needs be fought out again. The unreasonableness +of such a voyage in such a vessel, the risk, the thought of the +dangers and misery it would bring, took possession of his mind once +more, as he himself confesses: 'Yet entering into reasoning and +letting in temptation and hardships, and the loss of my life, wife, +and children, with the enjoyment of all earthly things, it brought me +as low as the grave, and laid me as one dead to the things of God.' + +'Let the sacrifice be made, if it must be made,' he said to himself, +'but it is too much to expect any man to make it willingly.' For days +he went about, in his own words, 'as one dead.' + +The eagerness of the Friends to depart, their plans for the voyage, +their happy cares, only loaded his spirit the more. It was a dark, +sad, miserable time; and a dark, sad, miserable man was the owner of +the _Woodhouse_. + +Till on a certain day, the Friends coming as usual to visit his ship +brought another with them, a Stranger; taller, stronger, sturdier than +them all; a man with a long drooping nose and piercing eyes--yes, and +leather breeches! It was, it could be no other than George Fox! + +What did he say to Robert Fowler? What words did he use? Did he argue +or command? That was unnecessary. The mere presence of the strong +faithful servant of the Lord drew out a like faithfulness in the other +more timid soul. + +Robert Fowler's narrative continues: + +'But by His instrument, George Fox, was I refreshed and raised up +again, which before was much contrary to myself that I could have as +willingly have died as gone; but by the strength of God I was now made +willing to do His will; yea even the customs and fashions of the +customs house could not stop me.' + +'Made willing to do His will.' There is the secret of this 'wonderful +voyage.' For it was absurdly dangerous to think of sailing across the +Atlantic in such a vessel as the _Woodhouse_: or it would have been, +had it been a mere human plan. But if the all-powerful, almighty Will +of God really commanded them to go, then it was no longer dangerous +but the only safe thing they could do. + +'Our trembling hands held in Thy strong and loving grasp, what shall +even the weakest of us fear?' + +Perhaps Master Robert expected when once he was ready to obey +cheerfully, that all his difficulties would vanish. Instead, fresh +difficulties arose; and the next difficulty was truly a great one. The +press-gang came by, and took Robert Fowler's servants off by force to +help to man the British fleet that was being fitted out to fight in +the Baltic; took them, whether they would or no, as Richard Sellar was +to be captured in the same way, seven years later. + +So now the long voyage to America must be undertaken not only in too +small a boat, but with too few sailors to work her. Besides Robert +Fowler, only two men and three boys were left on board to sail the +ship on this long, difficult voyage. + +Presently the Friends began to come on board; and if the captain's +heart sank anew as he saw the long string of passengers making for his +tiny boat--who shall wonder or blame him? It was a very solemn +procession of weighty Friends. + +In front came the five, who had been in America before, and who were +going back to face persecution, knowing what it meant. Their names +were: first that 'ancient and venerable man' William Brend; then young +Christopher Holder of Winterbourne in Gloucestershire, a well-educated +man of good estate; John Copeland of Holderness in Yorkshire; Mary +Weatherhead of Bristol; and Dorothy[34] Waugh, the serving-maid of +Preston Patrick, who had been 'convinced and called to the ministry' +as she went about her daily work in the family of Friend John Camm, at +Cammsgill. + +After them followed the other five who had not crossed the Atlantic +before, but who were no less eager to face unknown difficulties and +dangers. Their names were: William Robinson the London merchant; +Robert Hodgson; Humphrey Norton (remember Humphrey Norton, he will be +heard of again); Richard Doudney, 'an innocent man who served the Lord +in sincerity'; and Mary Clark, the wife of John Clark, a London +Friend, who, like most of the others, had already undergone much +suffering for her faith. On board the _Woodhouse_ they all came, +stepping on deck one after the other solemnly and sedately, while the +anxious captain watched them and wondered how many more were to come, +and where they were all to be lodged. Once they were on board, +however, things changed and felt quite different. It was as if an +Unseen Passenger had come with them. + +This is Robert Fowler's own account: 'Upon the 1st day of Fourth Month +called June received I the Lord's servants aboard, Who came with a +mighty hand and an outstretched arm with them; so that with courage we +set sail and came to the Downs the second day, where our dearly +beloved William Dewsbury with Michael Thompson came aboard, and in +them we were much refreshed; and, recommending us to the grace of God, +we launched forth.' + +After this his narrative has a different ring: Master Fowler was no +longer going about his ship with eyes cast down and hanging head and a +heart full of fear. He had straightened his back and was a stalwart +mariner again. Perhaps this was partly owing to the great pleasure +that came to him before they actually set sail, when, as he tells, +William Dewsbury came on board to visit the travellers. 'Dear William +Dewsbury' was the one Friend of all others Robert Fowler must have +wished to see once more before leaving England, for it was William +Dewsbury's preaching that had 'convinced' Robert Fowler and made him +become a Friend a few years before. It was William Dewsbury's teaching +about the blessedness of following the inner Voice, the inner +guidance, that had led him to offer himself and the _Woodhouse_ for +the service of Truth. + +Perhaps he said, half in joke, half in earnest, 'O William Dewsbury! O +William Dewsbury! thou hast much to answer for! If I had never met +thee I should never have undertaken this voyage in my little boat!' If +he said this, I think a very tender, thankful light came into William +Dewsbury's face, as he answered, 'Let us give thanks then together, +brother, that the message did reach thee through me; since without +this voyage thou could'st not fully have known the power and the +wonder of the Lord.' + +Quakers do not have priests to baptize them, or bishops to confirm or +ordain them, as Church people do. Yet God's actual presence in the +heart is often revealed first through the message of one of His +messengers. Therefore there is a special bond of tender fellowship and +friendship between those who are truly fathers and children in God, +even in a Society where all are friends. In this relation William +Dewsbury stood to Robert Fowler. + +Reason and fear raised their heads once again, even after William +Dewsbury's visit. Robert Fowler thought of going to the Admiral in the +Downs to complain of the loss of his servants, and to ask that a +convoy might be sent with them. But he did not go, because, as he +says, 'From which thing I was withholden by that Hand which was my +Helper.' + +The south wind began to blow, and they were obliged to put in at +Portsmouth, and there there were plenty of men waiting to be engaged, +but when they heard that this tiny vessel was actually venturing to +cross the Atlantic, not one would sail in her, and this happened again +at South Yarmouth, where they put in a few days later. + +At Portsmouth, however, the Friends were not idle. They went ashore +and held a meeting, or, as Robert Fowler puts it, 'They went forth and +gathered sticks and kindled a fire, and left it burning.' Not real +sticks for a real fire, of course, but a fire of love and service in +people's hearts, that would help to keep the cold world warm in after +days. + +This was their last task in England. A few hours later they had +quitted her shores. The coast-line that followed them faithfully at +first, dropped behind gradually, growing fainter and paler, then +resting like a thought upon the sea, till it finally disappeared. Only +a vast expanse of heaving waters surrounded the travellers. + +At first it seemed as if their courage was not to be too severely +tested. 'Three pretty large ships which were for the Newfoundland' +appeared, and bore the _Woodhouse_ company for some fifty leagues. In +their vicinity the smaller vessel might have made the voyage, perilous +at best, with a certain amount of confidence. But the Dutch warships +were known to be not far distant, and in order to escape them the +three 'pretty large ships made off to the northward, and left us +without hope or help as to the outward.' + +The manner of the departure of the ships was on this wise. Early in +the morning it was shown to Humphrey Norton--who seems to have been +especially sensitive to messages from the invisible world--'that those +were nigh unto us who sought our lives.' He called Robert Fowler, and +gave him this warning, and added, 'Thus saith the Lord, ye shall be +carried away as in a mist.' 'Presently,' says Robert Fowler, 'we +espied a great ship making up to us, and the three great ships were +much afraid, and tacked about with what speed they could; in the very +interim the Lord fulfilled His promise, and struck our enemies in the +face with a contrary wind, wonderfully to our refreshment. Then upon +our parting from these three ships we were brought to ask counsel of +the Lord, and the word was from Him, "Cut through and steer your +straight course and mind nothing but Me."' + +'Cut through and steer your straight course, and mind nothing but Me!' +Alone upon the broad Atlantic in this cockle-shell of a boat! Only a +cockle-shell truly, yet it held a bit of heaven within it--the heaven +of obedience. Every day the little company of Friends met in that +ship's hold together, and 'He Himself met with us and manifested +himself largely unto us,' words that have been proved true by many +another company of the Master's servants afloat upon the broad waters +from that day to this. There they sat on the wooden benches, with +spray breaking over them, the faithful men and women who were daring +all for the Truth. Only three times in the whole voyage was the +weather so bad that storms prevented their assembling together. Much +of the actual navigation of the vessel seems to have been left to the +strange passengers to determine. The Captain's narrative continues: +'Thus it was all the voyage with the faithful, who were carried far +above storms and tempests, that when the ship went either to the right +hand or to the left, their hands joined all as one, and did direct her +way; so that we have seen and said, "We see the Lord leading our +vessel even as it were a man leading a horse by the head; we regarding +neither latitude nor longitude, but kept to our line, which was and is +our Leader, Guide, and Rule."' + +Besides the guidance vouchsafed to the Friends as a group, some of +them had special intimations given to them. + +'The sea was my figure,' says Robert Fowler, 'for if anything got up +within, the sea without rose up against me, and then the floods +clapped their hands, of which in time I took notice and told Humphrey +Norton.'[35] + +In this account Humphrey Norton always seems to hear voices directing +their course, while Robert Fowler generally 'sees figures'--sights +that teach him what to do. Guidance may come in different ways to +different people, but it does come surely to those who seek for it. + +The inward Voice spoke to Robert Fowler also when they were in mid +Atlantic after they had been at sea some two weeks: + +'We saw another great ship making up to us which did appear far off +to be a frigate, and made her sign for us to come to them, which was +to me a great cross, we being to windward of them; and it was said "GO +SPEAK TO HIM, THE CROSS IS SURE; DID I EVER FAIL THEE THEREIN?" And +unto others there appeared no danger in it, so that we did, and it +proved a tradesman of London, by whom we writ back.' + +The hardest test of their faith came some three weeks later, when +after five weeks at sea they had still accomplished only 300 leagues, +scarcely a third part of their voyage, and their destination still +seemed hopelessly distant. The strong faith of Humphrey Norton carried +them all over this trial. 'He (Humphrey Norton) falling into communion +with God, told me that he had received a comfortable answer, and also +that about such a day we should land in America, which was even so +fulfilled. Upon the last day of the fifth month (July) 1657, we made +land.' + +This land turned out to be the very part to which the Friends had most +desired to come. The pilot[36] had expected to reach quite a different +point, but the invisible guidance of his strange passengers was clear +and unwavering. 'Our drawing had been all the passage to keep to the +southward, until the evening before we made land, and then the word +was, "There is a lion in the way"; unto which we gave obedience, and +said, "Let them steer northwards until the day following."'[37] + +That must have been an anxious day on board the _Woodhouse_. Think of +the two different clues that were being followed within that one small +boat: the Friends with their clasped hands, seeking and finding +guidance; up on deck the pilot, with his nautical knowledge, scoffing +very likely at any other method of progress than the reckoning to +which he was accustomed. As the slow hours passed, and no land +appeared to break the changeless circle of the sea, the Friends felt a +'drawing' to meet together long before their usual time. 'And it was +said that we may look abroad in the evening; and as we sat waiting +upon the Lord, we discovered the land, and our mouths were opened in +prayer and thanksgiving.' + +The words are simple as any words could be. But in spite of the 260 +years that separate that day from this, its gladness is still fresh. +All voyagers know the thrill caused by the first sight of land, even +in these days of steamships, when all arrangements can be made and +carried out with almost clock-like precision. But in the old time of +sailing ships, when a contrary wind or a sudden calm might upset the +reckoning for days together, and when there was the added danger that +food or water might give out, to see the longed-for land in sight at +last must have been even more of an event. + +To all the Friends on board the _Woodhouse_ this first sight of +America meant a yet deeper blessedness. It was the outer assurance +that the invisible guidance they were following was reliable. The +Friends rejoiced and were wholly at rest and thankful. But the pilot, +instead of being, as might have been expected, convinced at last that +there was a wisdom wiser than his own, still resisted. Where some +people see life with a thread of guidance running through it +unmistakably, others are always to be found who will say these things +are nothing but chance and what is called 'coincidence.' + +Such an one was the pilot of the _Woodhouse_. As the land drew nearer, +a creek was seen to open out in it. The Friends were sure that their +vessel was meant to enter there, but again the pilot resisted. By this +time the Friends had learned to expect objections from him, and had +learned, too, that it was best not to argue with him, but to leave him +to find out for himself that their guidance was right. So they told +him to do as he chose, that 'both sides were safe, but going that way +would be more trouble to him.' When morning dawned 'he saw, after he +had laid by all the night, the thing fulfilled.' + +Into the creek, therefore, in the bright morning sunlight the +_Woodhouse_ came gaily sailing; not knowing where she was, nor whither +the creek would lead. 'Now to lay before you the largeness of the +wisdom, will, and power of God, this creek led us in between the Dutch +Plantation and Long Island:'--the very place that some of the Friends +had felt that they ought to visit, but which it would have been most +difficult to reach had they landed in any other spot. Thus 'the Lord +God that moved them brought them to the place appointed, and led us +into our way according to the word which came unto Christopher Holder: +"You are in the road to Rhode Island." In that creek came a shallop to +guide us, taking us to be strangers, we making our way with our boat, +and they spoke English, and informed us, and guided us along. The +power of the Lord fell much upon us, and an irresistible word came +unto us, that the seed in America shall be as the sand of the sea; it +was published in the ears of the brethren, which caused tears to break +forth with fulness of joy; so that presently for these places some +prepared themselves, who were Robert Hodgson, Richard Doudney, Sarah +Gibbons, Mary Weatherhead, and Dorothy Waugh, who the next day were +put safely ashore into the Dutch plantation, called New Amsterdam.' + +'New Amsterdam, on an unnamed creek in the Dutch Plantation,' sounds +an unfamiliar place to modern ears. Yet when that same Dutch +Plantation changed hands and became English territory its new masters +altered the name of its chief town. New Amsterdam was re-christened in +honour of the king's brother, James, Duke of York, and became known as +New York, the largest city of the future United States of America. + +As to the unnamed 'creek' into which the _Woodhouse_ was led, that was +probably the estuary of the mighty river Hudson. 'Here,' continues +Robert Fowler, 'we came, and it being the First Day of the week +several came aboard to us and we began our work. I was caused to go to +the Governor, and Robert Hodgson with me--he (the Governor) was +moderate both in words and actions.' + +This moderation on the Governor's part must have been no small comfort +to the new arrivals. Also the laws of the New Netherland Colonies, +where they had unexpectedly landed, were much more tolerant than those +of New England, whither they were bound. Even yet the perils of the +gallant _Woodhouse_ were not over. The remaining Friends had now to +be taken on to hospitable Rhode Island, the home of religious liberty, +from whence they could pursue their mission to the persecuting +Colonists on the mainland. + +A few days before their arrival at New Amsterdam, the two Roberts +(Robert Hodgson and Robert Fowler) had both had a vision in which they +had seen the _Woodhouse_ in great danger. The day following their +interview with the Governor, when they were once more on the sea, 'it +was fulfilled, there being a passage between the two lands which is +called by the name of Hell-Gate; we lay very conveniently for a pilot, +and into that place we came, and into it were forced, and over it were +carried, which I never heard of any before that were; there were rocks +many on both sides of us, so that I believe one yard's length would +have endangered both vessel and goods.' + +Here for the last time the little group of Friends gathered to give +thanks for their safe arrival after their most wonderful voyage. If +any of them were tempted to think they owed any of their protection +and guidance to their own merits and faithfulness, a last vision that +came to Robert Fowler must have chased this thought out of their minds +once for all. + +'There was a shoal of fish,' he says, 'which pursued our vessel and +followed her strangely, and along close by our rudder.' The master +mariner's eye had evidently been following the movements of the fish +throughout the day, as he asked himself: 'What are those fish? I never +saw fish act in that way before. Why do they follow the vessel so +steadily?' Then, in the time of silent waiting upon God, light +streamed upon this puzzle in his mind. + +'In our meeting it was shewn to me, these fish are to thee a figure. +"Thus doth the prayers of the churches proceed to the Lord for thee +and the rest."' That was the explanation of the wonderful voyage. The +_Woodhouse_ and her little company had not been solitary and +unprotected, even when the three 'pretty great ships' drew off for +fear of the Dutch men of war and left them alone. + +The prayers of their friends in England were following them across the +vast Atlantic, though unseen by human eyes, even as those hosts of +shining fish, which surrounded the vessel as she drove her prow +through the clear water, would be unseen to a spectator above its +surface. George Fox was praying for the travellers. William Dewsbury +was sure to be praying for them. Friend Gerard Roberts would be also +much in prayer, since the responsibility of the voyage was largely on +his shoulders. Besides these, there were the husbands, wives, and +little children of some of the Friends, the brothers and sisters of +others, all longing for them to arrive safely and do their Master's +work. Now here came the fish to assure Robert Fowler that the faith he +believed was true. Real as the things we can see or touch or feel seem +to us to be, the unseen things are more real still. Ever after, to +those who had crossed the Atlantic in the good ship _Woodhouse_, the +assurance of God's clear guidance and the answered prayers of His +people must have been the most real of all. + +Robert Fowler's story of the marvellous voyage ends with these words: +'Surely in our meeting did the thing run through me as oil and bid me +much rejoice.' + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[34] She sometimes spelled her name Dorithy, which is not the way to +spell Dorothy now, but spelling was much less fixed in those days. + +[35] The meaning seems to be that whenever fear or misgiving came to +Fowler's heart, the sea also became stormy; while his spirit remained +trustful, the sea was likewise calm. + +[36] As the navigating officer of the ship was then called. + +[37] It is not quite easy at this distance of time to understand why +'a lion in the way' should mean 'go north,' unless it was because the +'drawing' had been strongly south hitherto, and now that path was +blocked. + + + + +XXVI. RICHARD SELLAR AND THE 'MERCIFUL MAN' + + + + + _'To resort to force is to lose + faith in the inner light. War only + results from men taking counsel + with their passions instead of + waiting upon God. If one believes, + as Fox did, that the most powerful + element in human nature is that + something of God which speaks in + the conscience, then to coerce men + is clearly wrong. The only true + line of approach is by patience to + reach down to that divine seed, to + appeal to what is best, because it + is what is strongest in man. The + Quaker testimony against war is no + isolated outwork of their + position: it forms part of their + citadel.'--H.G. WOOD._ + + + _'The following narrative we have + thought proper to insert in the + very words of the sufferer, as + taken from his own mouth. The + candid Reader will easily excuse + the simplicity of its style, and + the Plainness of its Expressions. + It is the more like the man, and + carries the greater evidence of + the Honesty and Integrity of the + Relator, viz. "An Account of the + Sufferings of Richard Seller of + Keinsey, a Fisherman, who was + prest in Scarborough-Piers, in the + time of the two last engagements + between the Dutch and English, in + the year 1665." These are (says + the writer) the very words that + proceeded from him, who sat before + me weeping.'--BESSE, 'Sufferings + of the Quakers.'_ + + + + +XXVI. RICHARD SELLAR AND THE 'MERCIFUL MAN' + + +Away to the Yorkshire coast we must go, and once more find ourselves +looking up at the bold headland of Scarborough Cliff, as it juts out +into the North Sea. Away again in time, too, to the year 1665, when +George Fox still lay in prison up at the Castle, with his room full of +smoke on stormy days when the wind 'drove in the rain forcibly,' while +'the water came all over his bed and ran about the room till he was +forced to skim it up with a platter.' + +Happily there is no storm raging this time. Our story begins on a +still, warm afternoon late in the summer, when even the prisoner up at +the Castle can hardly help taking some pleasure in the cloudless blue +sky and shining sea spread out above and around him. + +But it is not to the Castle we are bound to-day. We need not climb +again the steep, worn steps that lead to the top of the hill. Instead, +we must descend an equally narrow flight that leads down, down, down +with queer twists and turns, till we find ourselves close to the +water's edge. Even in the fiercest gales there is shelter here for the +red-roofed fishing village that surrounds the harbour, while on a warm +afternoon the air is almost oppressively hot. The brown sails of the +fishing smacks and the red roofs of the houses are faithfully +reflected in the clear water beneath them as in a looking-glass. + +Outside the door of one of the houses a rough fisherman is seated on a +bench, his back against the house wall, mending his nets. At first +sight he looks almost like an old man, for his hair is grey, though +his body is still strong and active. His hands are twisted and bear +the marks of cruel scars upon them, but his face is peaceful, though +worn and rugged. He handles the nets lovingly, as if he were glad to +feel them slipping through his fingers again. Evidently the nets have +not been used for some time, for there are many holes in them, and the +mending is a slow business. As he works the fisherman sings in a low +voice, not loud enough for the neighbours to hear but just humming to +himself. + +Every now and then the door of the house half opens, and a little girl +looks out and asks, 'Thou art really there, Father? truly safe back +again?' The man looks up, smiling, as he calls back, 'Ay, ay, my maid. +Get on with thy work, Margery, and I'll get on with mine.' + +'Art thou sure thou art safe, Father?' + +He does not answer this question in words, but he raises his voice and +sings the next verse of his song a little more loudly and clearly-- + + 'Because on Me his love is set, + Deliver him I will, + And safely bring him higher yet + Upon My holy hil.' + +Later on, when the nets are mended and the sun is sinking above the +Castle Cliff in a fiery glow, Margery comes out and sits on her +father's knee; the lads, home from school, gather round and say, 'Now +then, Master Sellar, tell us once more the story of thy absence from +us, and about how thou wast pressed and taken on board the _Royal +Prince_. Tell us about the capstan and the lashings; about how they +beat thee; what the carpenter and the boatswain's mate did, and how +the gunner went down three times on his bare knees on the deck to beg +thy life. Let us hear it all again.' 'Yes, please do, Father dear,' +chimes in Margery, 'only leave out some of the beatings and the +dreadful part, and hurry on very quickly to the end of the story about +all the sailors throwing up their caps and huzzaing for Sir Edward, +the merciful man.' + +The fisherman smiles and nods. He puts his arm more tenderly than ever +round his small daughter as he says, 'Ay, ay, dear heart, never thou +fear.' Then, drawing Margery closer to him, he begins his tale. It is +a long story. The sun has set; the crescent moon has disappeared; and +the stars are stealing out, one by one, before he has finished. I wish +you and I could listen to that story, don't you? Well, we can! Someone +who heard it from the fisherman's own lips has written it all down for +us. He is telling it to us in his own words to-day, as he told it to +those children in Scarborough village long ago. + +Now and then we must interrupt him to explain some of the words he +uses, or even alter the form of the sentences slightly, in order fully +to understand what it is he is talking about. + +But he is telling his own story. + +'My name,' begins the fisherman, 'is Richard Sellar. It was during the +war between the Dutch and English that I was pressed at Scarborough in +1665.' + +'Pressed' means that he was forced to go and fight against his will. +When the country is in danger men are obliged to leave their peaceful +employments and learn to be soldiers and sailors, in order, as they +think, to defend their own nation by trying to kill their enemies. It +is something like what people now call 'conscription' that Richard +Sellar is talking of when he speaks of 'being pressed.' He means that +a number of men, called a 'press-crew,' forced him to go with them to +fight in the king's navy, for, as the proverb said, 'A king's ship and +the gallows refuse nobody.' + +'I was pressed,' Richard continues, 'within Scarborough Piers, and +refusing to go on board the ketch [or boat] they beat me very sore, +and I still refusing, they hoisted me in with a tackle on board, and +they bunched me with their feet, that I fell backward into a tub, and +was so maimed that they were forced to swaddle me up with clothes.' + +Richard Sellar could not help himself. Bound, bruised, and beaten he +was carried off in the boat to be taken to a big fighting ship called +the _Royal Prince_, that was waiting for them off the mouth of the +Thames and needing more sailors to man her for the war. + +The press-crew however had not captured enough men at Scarborough, so +they put in at another Yorkshire port, spelled Burlington then but +Bridlington now. It was that same Burlington or Bridlington from which +Master Robert Fowler had sailed years before. Was he at home again +now, I wonder, working in his shipyard and remembering the wonderful +experiences of the good ship _Woodhouse_? Surely he must have been +away on a voyage at this time or he would if possible have visited +Richard Sellar in his confinement on the ketch. Happily at Bridlington +there also lived two kind women, who, hearing that the ketch had a +'pressed Quaker' on board, sent Richard Sellar a present of +food--green stuff and eatables that would keep well on a voyage: these +provisions saved his life later on. After this stay in port the ketch +sailed on again to the Nore, a big sand-bank lying near the mouth of +the Thames. + +'And there,' Richard goes on to say, 'they haled me in at a gunport, +on board of the ship called the _Royal Prince_. The first day of the +third month, they commanded me to go to work at the capstan. I +refused; then they commanded me to call of the steward for my +victuals; which I refused, and told them that as I was not free to do +the king's work, I would not live at his charge for victuals. Then the +boatswain's mate beat me sore, and thrust me about with the capstan +until he was weary; then the Captain sent for me on the quarter-deck, +and asked me why I refused to fight for the king, and why I refused to +eat of his victuals? I told him I was afraid to offend God, for my +warfare was spiritual, and therefore I durst not fight with carnal +weapons. Then the Captain fell upon me, and beat me first with his +small cane, then called for his great cane, and beat me sore, and +felled me down to the deck three or four times, and beat me as long as +his strength continued. Then came one, Thomas Horner (which was +brought up at Easington), and said, "I pray you, noble Captain, be +merciful, for I know him to be an honest and a good man." Then said +the captain, "He is a Quaker; I will beat his brains out." Then +falling on me again, he beat me until he was weary, and then called +some to help him; "for" said he, "I am not able to beat him enough to +make him willing to do the king's service."' + +There Richard lay, bruised and beaten, on the deck. Neither the +sailors nor the Captain knew what to do with him. Presently up came +the Commander's jester or clown, a man whose business it was to make +the officers laugh. 'What,' said he, 'can't you make that Quaker work? +Do you want him to draw ropes for you and he won't? Why you are going +the wrong way to work, you fool!' + +No one else in the whole ship would have dared to call the Captain +'You fool!' No one else could have done so without being put in +chains. But the jester might do as he liked. His business was to make +the Captain laugh; and at these words he did laugh. 'Show me the right +way to make him work, then,' said he. 'That I will gladly,' answered +the jester, 'we will have a bet. I will give you one golden guinea if +I cannot make him draw ropes, if you will give me another if I do +compel him to do so.' + +'Marry that I will,' answered the Captain, and forthwith the two +guineas were thrown down on the deck, rattling gaily, while all the +ship's company stood around to watch what should befall. + +'Then the jester called for two seamen and made them make two ropes +fast to the wrists of my arms, and reeved the ropes through two blocks +in the mizen shrouds on the starboard side, and hoisted me up aloft, +and made the ropes fast to the gunwale of the ship, and I hung some +time. Then the jester called the ship's company to behold, and bear +him witness, that he made the Quaker hale the king's ropes; so +veering the ropes they lowered me half-way down, then made me fast +again. "Now," said the jester, "noble Captain, you and the company see +that the Quaker haleth the king's ropes"; and with that he commanded +them to let fly the ropes loose, when I fell on the deck. "Now," said +the jester, "noble Captain, the wager is won. He haled the ropes to +the deck, and you can hale them no further, nor any man else."' + +Not a very good joke, was it? It seems to have pleased the rough +sailors since it set them a-laughing. But it was no laughing matter +for Richard Sellar to be set swinging in the air strung up by the +wrists, and then to be bumped down upon deck again, fast bound and +unable to move. The Captain did not laugh either. The thought of his +lost money made him feel savage. In a loud, angry voice he called to +the boatswain's mate and bade him, 'Take the quakerly dog away, and +put him to the capstan and make him work.' + +Only the jester laughed, and chuckled to himself, as he gathered up +the golden guineas from the deck, and slapped his thighs for pleasure +as he slipped them into his pockets. + +Meantime the boatswain's mate was having fine sport with the 'Quaker +dog,' as he carried out the Captain's orders. Calling the roughest +members of the crew to help him, they beat poor Richard cruelly, and +abused him as they dragged him down into the darkness below deck. + +'Then he went,' says Richard, 'and sat him down upon a chest lid, and +I went and sat down upon another beside him; then he fell upon me and +beat me again; then called his boy to bring him two lashings and he +lashed my arms to the capstan's bars and caused the men to heave the +capstan about; and in three or four times passing about the lashings +were loosed, no man knew how, nor when, nor could they ever be found, +although they sought them with lighted candles.' + +The sailors had tied their prisoner with ropes to the heavy iron wheel +in the stern of the boat called a capstan; so that as he moved he +would be obliged to drag it round and thus help to work the ship. They +had made their prisoner as fast as ever they could. Yet, somehow, here +he was free again, and his bonds had disappeared! The boatswain's mate +couldn't understand it, but he was determined to solve the mystery. He +sent for a Bible and made the sailors swear upon it in turn, in that +dark, ill-smelling den, that not one of them had loosed Richard. They +all swore willingly, but even that did not content the mate. He +thought they were lying, and would not let them go till he had turned +out all their pockets, and found that not one of them contained the +missing lashings that had mysteriously disappeared. Then, at last, +even the rough mate felt afraid. Richard seemed to be in his power and +defenceless: was he really protected by Something or Someone stronger +than any cruel men, the mate wondered? + +So he called the sailors round him again, and spoke to them as +follows: 'Hear what I shall say unto you; you see this is a wonderful +thing, which is done by an invisible hand, which loosed him, for none +of you could see his hands loosed, that were so near him. I suppose +this man' (said he) 'is called a Quaker, and for conscience' sake +refuseth to act, therefore I am afflicted, and do promise before God +and man that I will never beat, nor cause to be beaten, either Quaker +or any other man that doth refuse, for conscience' sake, to fight for +the king. And if I do, I wish I may lose my right hand.' That was the +promise of the boatswain's mate. + + * * * * * + +Three days later the Admiral of the whole fleet, Sir Edward Spragg, +came on board the _Royal Prince_. He was a very fine gentleman indeed. +At once every one began to tell him the same story: how they had +pressed a Quaker up at Scarborough in the North; how the Quaker had +refused to work, and had been given over to the boatswain's mate to be +flogged; how the boatswain's mate had fallen upon him and had beaten +him furiously, but now refused to lay a finger upon him, saying that +he would no longer beat a Quaker or any other man for conscience' +sake. + +'Send that boatswain's mate to me that he may answer for himself,' +said the Admiral. 'Why would you not beat the Quaker?' he demanded in +a terrible voice, when the boatswain's mate was brought before him. 'I +have beat him very sore,' the mate answered, 'I seized his arms to the +capstan bars, and forced them to heave him about, and beat him, and +then sat down; and in three or four times of the capstan's going +about, the lashings were loosed, and he came and sat down by me; then +I called the men from the capstan, and took them sworn, but they all +denied that they had loosed him, or knew how he was loosed; neither +could the lashings ever be found; therefore I did and do believe that +it was an invisible power which set him at liberty, and I did promise +before God and the company, that I would never beat a Quaker again, +nor any man else for conscience' sake.' The Admiral told the mate that +he must lose both his cane of office and his place. He willingly +yielded them both. He was also threatened with the loss of his right +hand. He held it out and said, 'Take it from me if you please.' His +cane was taken from him and he was displaced; but mercifully his right +hand was not cut off: that was only a threat. + +The Commander had now to find some one else to beat Richard Sellar. So +he gave orders to seven strong sailors (called yeomen) to beat Richard +whenever they met him, and to make him work. Beat him they did, till +they were tired; but they could not make him work or go against his +conscience, which forbade him in any way to help in fighting. Then an +eighth yeoman was called, the strongest of all. The same order was +given to him: 'Beat that Quaker as much as you like whenever you meet +him, only see that you make him work.' The eighth yeoman promised +gladly in his turn, and said, 'I'll make him!' He too beat Richard for +a whole day and a night, till he too grew weary and asked to be +excused. Then another wonderful thing happened, stranger even than the +disappearance of the lashings. After all these cruel beatings the +Commander ordered Richard's clothes to be taken off that he might see +the marks of the blows on his body. 'He caused my clothes to be stript +off,' Richard says, 'shirt and all, from my head to my waist downward; +then he took a view of my body to see what wounds and bruises I had, +but he could find none,--no, not so much as a blue spot on my skin. +Then the Commander was angry with them, for not beating me enough. +Then the Captain answered him and said, "I have beat him myself as +much as would kill an ox." The jester said he had hung me a great +while by the arms aloft in the shrouds. The men said they also had +beaten me very sore, but they might as well have beaten the main mast. +Then said the Commander, "I will cause irons to be laid upon him +during the king's pleasure and mine."' + +A marvellous story! After all these beatings, not a bruise or a mark +to be seen! Probably it is not possible now to explain how it +happened. Of course we might believe that Richard was telling lies all +the time, and that either the sailors did not beat him or that the +bruises did show. But why invent anything so unlikely? It is easier to +believe that he was trying to tell the truth as far as he could, even +though we cannot understand it. Perhaps his heart was so happy at +being allowed to suffer for what he thought right, that his body +really did not feel the cruel beatings, as it would have done if he +had been doing wrong and had deserved them. Or perhaps there are +wonderful ways, unknown to us until we experience them for ourselves, +in which God will, and can, and does protect His own true servants who +are trying to obey Him. That is the most comforting explanation. If +ever some one much bigger and stronger than we are tries to bully us +into doing wrong, let us remember that God does not save us _from_ +pain and suffering always; but He can save us _through_ the very worst +pain, if only we are true to Him. + +Anyhow, though Richard's beatings were over for the time, other +troubles began. He was 'put in irons,' heavily loaded with chains, a +punishment usually kept for the worst criminals, such as thieves and +murderers. All the crew were forbidden to bring him food and drink +even though he was beginning to be ill with a fever--the result of all +the sufferings he had undergone. Happily there was one kind, brave man +among the crew, the carpenter's mate. Although Sir Edward Spragg had +said that any one giving food to Richard would have to share his +punishment, this good man was not afraid, and did give the prisoner +both food and drink. All this time, Richard had been living on the +provisions that the two kind Friends, Thomasin Smales and Mary +Stringer, had sent him at Bridlington, having refused to eat the +king's food, as he could not do the king's work. + +Thankful indeed he must have felt when this kind carpenter's mate came +and squeezed up against him among a crowd of sailors, and managed to +pass some meat and drink out of his own pocket and into Richard's. His +new friend did this so cleverly that nobody noticed. Pleased with his +success, he whispered to Richard, 'I'll bring you some more every day +while you need food. You needn't mind taking things from me, for they +are all bought out of my own money, not the king's.' + +'What makes thee so good to me?' whispered back Richard. He was +weakened by fever and all unused to kindness on board the _Royal +Prince_. Very likely the tears came into his eyes and his voice +trembled as he spoke, though he had borne all his beatings unmoved. + +The carpenter's mate told him in reply that before he came on board, +both his wife and his mother had made him promise that if any Quakers +should be on the ship he would be kind to them. Also, that quite +lately he had had a letter from them asking him 'to remember his +promise, and be kind to Quakers, if any were on board.' How much we +should like to know what put it into the two women's hearts to think +of such a thing! Were they Quakers themselves, or had they Quaker +friends? Once more there is no answer but: 'God will, and can, and +does protect His own.' + +Unfortunately this kind man was sent away from the ship to do work +elsewhere, and for three days and nights Richard lay in his heavy +irons, with nothing either to eat or drink. Some sailors who had been +quarrelling in a drunken brawl on deck were thrown into prison and +chained up beside Richard. They were sorry for him and did their best +to help him. They even gave him something to drink when they were +alone, though for his sake they had to pretend that they were trying +to hurt and kill him when any of the officers were present. These +rough sailors pretended so well that one lieutenant, who had been +specially cruel to Richard before, now grew alarmed, and thought the +other prisoners really would kill the Quaker. + +He went up to Sir Edward's cabin and knocked at the door. 'Who is +there?' asked the cabin-boy. + +'I,' said the lieutenant, 'I want to speak to Sir Edward.' When he was +admitted he said, 'If it please your highness to remember that there +is a poor Quaker in irons yet, that was laid in two weeks since, and +the other prisoners will kill him for us.' + +'We will have a Court Martial,' thought Sir Edward, 'and settle this +Quaker's job once for all.' + +He told the lieutenant to go for the keys and let Richard out, and to +put a flag at the mizen-mast's head, and call a council of war, and +make all the captains come from all the other ships to try the Quaker. + +It was not yet eight o'clock on a Sunday morning. At the signal, all +the captains of all the other ships came hurrying on board the _Royal +Prince_, the Admiral's flag-ship. Richard was fetched up from his +prison and brought before this council of war--or Court Martial as it +would be called now. The Admiral sat in the middle, very grand indeed; +beside him sat the judge of the Court Martial, 'who,' says Richard, +'was a papist, being Governor of Dover Castle, who went to sea on +pleasure.' He probably looked grander still. Around these two sat the +other naval captains from the other ships. Opposite all these great +people was Quaker Richard, so weakened by fever and lame from his +heavy fetters that he could not stand, and had to be allowed to sit. +The Commander, to give Richard one more chance, asked him if he would +go aboard another ship, a tender with six guns. Richard's conscience +was still clear that he could have nothing to do with guns or +fighting. He said he would rather stay where he was and abide his +punishment. + +What punishment do you think the judge thought would be suitable for a +man who had committed only the crime of refusing to fight, or to work +to help those who were fighting? + +'The judge said I should be put into a barrel or cask _driven full of +nails with their points inward and so rolled to death_; but the +council of war taking it into consideration, thought it too terrible a +death and too much unchristianlike; so they agreed to hang me.' + +'Too much unchristianlike' indeed! The mere thought of such a +punishment makes us shiver. The Governor of Dover Castle, who +suggested it, was himself a Roman Catholic. History tells how fiercely +the Roman Catholics persecuted the Protestants in Queen Mary's reign, +when Cranmer, Ridley, Latimer, Hooper, and many others were burnt at +the stake for their religion. Since then times had changed, and when +the Protestants were in power they too had often persecuted the Roman +Catholics in their turn. Perhaps someone whom this 'papist' judge had +loved very much had been cruelly put to death, and perhaps that was +the reason he suggested this savage punishment for Quaker Richard. We +do not know how that may be. But we do know that cruelty makes +cruelty, on and on without end. The only real way to stop it, is to +turn right round and follow the other law, the blessed law, whereby +love makes love. + +Richard Sellar was only a rough, ignorant fisherman, but he had begun +to learn this lesson out of Christ's lesson book: and how difficult a +lesson it is, nobody knows who has not tried to carry it out. + +Richard heard his sentence pronounced, that he was to be hanged. When +he heard that he was being wrongfully accused of various crimes that +he had not committed, he longed to rise and justify himself, but he +could only sit or kneel because he was too weak to stand. In vain he +tried to rise, and tried to speak. He could neither move nor say a +word. He could not even say: 'I am innocent.' He could not even pray +to God to help him in his difficulty. Again he tried to rise, and then +suddenly in his utter weakness he felt God's power holding him, and a +Voice said quite distinctly, three times over, in his heart: 'BE +STILL--BE STILL--BE STILL.' + +'Which Voice,' says Richard, 'I obeyed and was comforted. Then I +believed God would arise. And when they had done speaking, then God +did arise, and I was filled with the power of God; and my spirit +lifted up above all earthly things; and wonderful strength was given +me to my limbs, and my heart was full of the power and wisdom of God; +and with glad tidings my mouth was opened, to declare to the people +the things God had made manifest to me. With sweat running down, and +tears trickling from my eyes, I told them, "The hearts of kings were +in the hand of the Lord; and so are both yours and mine; and I do not +value what you can do to this body, for I am at peace with God and all +men, and with you my adversaries. For if I might live an hundred and +thirty years longer, I can never die in a better condition: for the +Lord hath satisfied me, that He hath forgiven me all things in this +world; and I am glad through His mercy, that He hath made me willing +to suffer for His name's sake, and not only so, but I am heartily +glad, and do really rejoice, and with a seal in my heart to the same." +Then there came a man and laid his hand upon my shoulder, and said, +"Where are all thy accusers?" Then my eyes were opened, and I looked +about me, and they were all gone.' + +The Court Martial was over. Every one of the captains had disappeared. +His accusers were gone; but Richard's sentence remained, and was still +to be carried out on the following morning. One officer, the same +lieutenant who had been cruel to him before, was still unkind to him +and called him 'a hypocrite Quaker,' but many others on board ship did +their best to save him. + +First of all there came up an ancient soldier to the Admiral on the +quarter-deck. He 'loosed down his knee-strings, and put down his +stockings, and put his cap under his knees, and begged Sir Edward's +pardon three times' (this seems to have been the correct behaviour +when addressing the Admiral), and the ancient soldier said, 'Noble Sir +Edward, you know that I have served His Majesty under you many years, +both in this nation and other nations, by the sea, and you were always +a merciful man; therefore I do entreat you, in all kindness, to be +merciful to this poor man, who is condemned to die to-morrow; and only +for denying your order for fear of offending God, and for conscience' +sake; and we have but one man on board, out of nine hundred and +fifty--only one which doth refuse for conscience' sake; and shall we +take his life away? Nay, God forbid! For he hath already declared +that, if we take his life away there shall a judgment appear upon some +on board, within eight and forty hours; and to me it hath appeared; +therefore I am forced to come upon quarter-deck before you; and my +spirit is one with his; therefore I desire you, in all kindness, to +give me the liberty, when you take his life away, to go off on board, +for I shall not be willing to serve His Majesty any longer on board of +ship; so I do entreat you once more to be merciful to this poor +man--so God bless you, Sir Edward. I have no more to say to you.' + +Next came up the chief gunner--a more important man, for he had been +himself a captain--but he too 'loosed down his knee-strings, and did +beg the Admiral's pardon three times, being on his bare knees before +Sir Edward.' + +Then Sir Edward said, 'Arise up, gunner, and speak.' + +Whereupon the chief gunner answered, 'If it please your worship, Sir +Edward, we know you are a merciful man, and therefore I entreat you, +in all kindness, to be merciful to this poor man, in whom there +remains something more than flesh and blood; therefore I entreat you, +let us not destroy that which is alive; neither endeavour to do it; +and so God bless you, Sir Edward. I have no more to say to you.' Then +he too went away. + +It was all of no use. Richard had been sentenced by the Court Martial +to be hanged next morning, and hanged he must be. + +Only Sir Edward--pleased perhaps at being told so often that he was a +merciful man, and willing to show that he had some small idea of what +mercy meant--'gave orders that any that had a mind to give me victuals +might; and that I might eat and drink with whom I pleased; and that +none should molest me that day. Then came the lieutenant and sat down +by me, whilst they were at their worship; and he would have given me +brandy, but I refused. Then the dinner came up to be served, and +several gave me victuals to eat, and I did eat freely, and was kindly +entertained that day. Night being come, a man kindly proffered me his +hammock to lie in that night, because I had lain long in irons; and I +accepted of his kindness, and laid me down, and I slept well that +night.' + +'The next morning being come, it being the second day of the week, on +which I was to be executed, about eight o'clock in the morning, the +rope being reeved on the mizen-yard's arm; and the boy ready to turn +me off; and boats being come on board with captains from other ships, +that were of the council of war, who came on purpose to see me +executed; I was therefore called to come to be executed. Then, I +coming to the execution place, the Commander asked the council how +their judgment did stand now? So most of them did consent; and some +were silent. Then he desired me freely to speak my mind, if I had +anything to say, before I was executed. I told him I had little at +present to speak. So there came a man, and bid me to go forward to be +executed. So I stepped upon the gunwale, to go towards the rope. The +Commander bid me stop there, if I had anything to say. Then spake the +judge and said, "Sir Edward is a merciful man, that puts that heretic +to no worse death than hanging."' + +The judge, the Governor of Dover Castle, was, as we have heard, a +Roman Catholic. To him Sir Edward and Richard Sellar were both alike +heretics, one not much worse than the other, since both were outside +what he believed to be the only true Church.[38] Sir Edward knew this. +Therefore on hearing the word 'heretic' he turned sharp round to the +judge, 'What sayest thou?' Apparently the judge felt that he had been +unwise to speak his candid thoughts, for he repeated the sentence, +leaving out the irritating word 'heretic': 'I say you are a merciful +man that puts him to no worse death than hanging.' Sir Edward knew +that he had not been mistaken in the word his sharp ears had caught. +'But,' said he, 'what is the other word that thou saidst?' 'That +heretic,' repeated the judge. 'I say,' said the Commander, 'he is more +like a Christian than thyself; for I do believe thou wouldst hang me +if it were in thy power.' + +'Then said the Commander to me,' continues Richard, '"Come down again, +for I will not hurt an hair of thy head; for I cannot make one hair +grow." Then he cried, "Silence all men," and proclaimed it three times +over, that if any man or men on board of the ship would come and give +evidence that I had done anything that I deserved death for, I should +have it, provided they were credible persons. But no man came, neither +a mouth opened against me then. So he cried again, "Silence all men, +and hear me speak." Then he proclaimed that the Quaker was as free a +man as any on board of the ship was. So the men heaved up their hats, +and with a loud voice cried, "God bless Sir Edward, he is a merciful +man!" The shrouds and tops and decks being full of men, several of +their hats flew overboard and were lost.' + +We will say good-bye to Richard there, with all the sailors huzzaing +round him, throwing up their caps, and Sir Edward standing by with a +pleased smile, more pleased than ever now, since it was impossible for +any one to deny that he was a merciful, a most merciful man. The +change for Richard himself, from being a condemned criminal loaded +with chains to being a universal favourite, must have been startling +indeed, though his troubles were not over yet. Difficulties surrounded +him again when the actual battles with the Dutch began. But, though he +could not fight, and was therefore in perpetual danger, he could and +did help and heal. + +His story tells us how he was able to save the whole ship's company +from destruction more than once, and had more marvellous adventures +than there is time here to relate. He tells also how the persecuting +lieutenant became his fast friend, and eventually helped him to get +his freedom. + +For he did regain his liberty in the end, and was given a written +permission to go home and earn his living as a fisherman. With this +writing in his hand no press-crew would dare to kidnap him again. So +back he came to Scarborough, to the red-roofed cottage by the water's +edge, to his unmended nets, and to the little daughter with whom we +saw him first. Most likely at this time George Fox was still a +prisoner in the Castle. If so, one of the very first things Richard +did, we may be sure, was to climb the many stone steps up to the +Castle and seek his friend in his cheerless prison. The fire smoke and +the rain would be forgotten by both men as they talked together, and +George Fox's face would light up as he heard the story of the lashings +that disappeared and the beatings that left no bruise. He was not a +man who laughed easily, but doubtless he laughed once, at any rate, as +he listened to Richard's story, when he heard of the huzzaing sailors +whose hats fell off into the water because they were so energetically +sure that 'Sir Edward was a very merciful man.' + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[38] The Roman Catholic gentry used sometimes to alarm their +Protestant neighbours with blood-curdling announcements that the good +times of Queen Mary were coming back, and 'faggotts should be deere +yet' (G.M. Trevelyan, _England under the Stuarts_, p. 87). + + + + +XXVII. TWO ROBBER STORIES. WEST AND EAST + + + + + _'They were changed men + themselves, before they went out + to change others'--W. PENN, + Testimony to George Fox._ + + + _'But when He comes to reign, + whose right it is, then peace and + goodwill is unto all men, and no + hurt in all the holy mountain of + the Lord is seen.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'Wouldst thou love one who never died for thee,_ + _Or ever die for one who had not died for thee?_ + _And if God dieth not for Man and giveth not Himself_ + _Eternally for Man, Man could not exist, for Man is Love_ + _As God is Love. Every kindness to another is a little death_ + _In the Divine Image, nor can man exist but by brotherhood.'_ + _W. BLAKE, 'Jerusalem.'_ + + + _'England is as a family of + prophets which must spread over + all nations, as a garden of + plants, and the place where the + pearl is found which must enrich + all nations with the heavenly + treasure, out of which shall the + waters of life flow, and water all + the thirsty ground, and out of + which nation and dominion must go + the spiritually weaponed and armed + men, to fight and conquer all + nations and bring them to the + nation of God.'--Epistle of + Skipton General Meeting, 1660._ + + + + +XXVII. TWO ROBBER STORIES. WEST AND EAST + +I + +LEONARD FELL AND THE HIGHWAYMAN + + +In that same memorable summer of 1652 when George Fox first visited +Swarthmoor Hall and 'bewitched' the household there, he also met and +'bewitched' another member of the Fell family. This was one Leonard +Fell, a connection of the Judge, whose home was at Baycliff in the +same county of Lancashire. Thither George Fox came on his travels +shortly after his first visit to Swarthmoor, when only Margaret Fell +and her children were at home, and before his later visit after Judge +Fell's return. + +'I went to Becliff,' says the Journal, 'where Leonard Fell was +convinced, and became a minister of the everlasting Gospel. Several +others were convinced there and came into obedience to truth. Here the +people said they could not dispute, and would fain have put some +others to hold talk with me, but I bid them, "Fear the Lord and not in +a light way hold a talk of the Lord's words, but put the things in +practice."' + +Leonard Fell did indeed put his new faith 'in practice.' He left his +home and followed his teacher, sharing with him many of the perils and +dangers of his journeys in the Service of Truth. Up and down and +across the length and breadth of England the two men travelled side by +side along the hedgeless English roads. At first as they went along, +Leonard Fell watched George Fox with sharp eyes, in his dealings with +the different people they met on their journeys, in order to discover +how his teacher would 'put into practice' the central truth he +proclaimed: that in every man, however degraded, there remains some +hidden spark of the Divine. But put it in practice George Fox did, +till at length Leonard Fell, too, learned to look for 'that of God +within' every one he met, learned to depend upon finding it, and to be +able to draw it out in his turn. + +One day, Leonard was travelling in the 'Service of Truth,' not in +George Fox's company but alone, when, as he crossed a desolate moor on +horseback, he heard the thunderous sound of horses' hoofs coming after +him down the road. Looking round, he beheld a masked and bearded +highwayman, his figure enveloped in a long flowing cloak, rapidly +approaching on a far swifter horse than his own 'Truth's pony.' A +moment later, a pistol was drawn from the newcomer's belt and pointed +full at Leonard's head. + +'Another step and you are a dead man! Your money or your life, and be +quick about it!' said the highwayman, as he suddenly pulled the curb +and checked his foam-covered horse. At this challenge, Leonard +obediently pulled up his own steed with his left hand, while, with his +right, he drew out his purse and handed it over to the robber without +a word. + +The pistol still remained at full cock, pointed straight at his head. +'Your horse next,' demanded the stranger. 'It is a good beast. Though +not as swift as mine I can find a use for it in my profession. +Dismount; or I fire.' + +In perfect silence Leonard dismounted, making no objection, and gave +his horse's bridle into the highwayman's outstretched hand. Then at +last, the threatened pistol was lowered, and replaced in the robber's +belt. Throwing the folds of his long cloak over one shoulder, and +carefully adjusting his mask, that not a glimpse of either face or +figure should betray his identity, he prepared to depart, leaving his +victim penniless and afoot on the wide, desolate moor. But, though the +highwayman had now finished with the Quaker, the Quaker had by no +means finished with the highwayman. + +It was now Leonard's turn to be aggressive. Standing there on the +bleak road, alone and unarmed, Leonard Fell raised a warning hand, and +solemnly rebuked his assailant for his evil deeds. At the same time he +admonished him that it was not yet too late for him to repent and lead +a righteous life, before his hour for repentance should be forever +passed. + +This was a most surprising turn of events for the highwayman. At first +he listened silently, too much astonished to speak. Leonard however +did not mince matters, and before he had finished his exhortation the +other man was in a furious rage. Never before had any of his victims +treated him in this fashion. Curses, tears, despair, those were all to +be expected in his 'profession'; but this extraordinary man was +neither beseeching him for money nor swearing at him in anger. His +victim was merely giving a solemn, yet almost friendly warning to the +robber of his horse and of his gold. + +'You, you cowardly dog!' blustered Leonard's assailant. 'You let me +rob you of your purse and of your steed like a craven! You could not +even pluck up courage to defend yourself. Yet now, you actually dare +to stand and preach at ME, in the middle of the King's highway?' + +The pistol was out again with a flourish. This time Leonard faced it +calmly, making no movement to defend himself. + +'I would not risk my life to defend either my money or my horse,' he +answered, looking up straight at the muzzle with a steady eye, 'but I +will lay it down gladly, if by so doing I can save thy soul.' + +This unexpected answer was altogether too much for the highwayman. +Though his finger was already on the trigger of the pistol, that +trigger was never pulled. He sat motionless on his horse, staring +through the holes in his mask, down into the eyes of his intended +victim, as if he would read his inmost soul. + +This astonishing man, whom he had taken for a coward, was calmly ready +and was apparently quite willing to give his life--his life!--in order +to save his enemy's soul. The robber had almost forgotten that he had +a soul. His manhood was black and stained now by numberless deeds of +violence, by crimes, too many remembered and far more forgotten. Yet +he had once known what it was to feel tender and white and innocent. +He had certainly possessed a soul long ago. Did it still exist? +Apparently the stranger was convinced that it must, since he was +actually prepared to stake his own life upon its eternal welfare. +Surprising man! He really cared what became of a robber's soul. It was +impossible to wish to murder or even to steal from such an one. There +could not be another like him, the wide world over. He had best be +allowed to continue on his unique adventure of discovering souls, a +much more dangerous career it seemed to be than any mere everyday +highwayman's 'profession.' + +As these thoughts passed through the robber's mind, his hand sought +the folds of his cloak, and then drawing Leonard's purse forth from a +deep convenient pocket, he returned it to its owner, stooping over +him, as he did so, with a low and courtly bow. Next, putting the +horse's bridle also back into Leonard's hand, 'If you are such a man +as that,' the highwayman said, 'I will take neither your money nor +your horse!' + +A moment later, as if already ashamed of his impulsive generosity, he +set spurs to his horse and disappeared as swiftly as he had come. + +Leonard, meanwhile, remounting, pursued his way in safety, with both +his horse and his money once more restored to him. But more precious, +by far, than either, was the knowledge that his friend's teaching had +again been proved to be true. In his own experience he had discovered +that there really and truly is an Inward Light that does shine still, +even in the hearts of wicked men. Thus was Leonard Fell in his turn +enabled to 'put these things in practice.' + + +II + +ON THE ROAD TO JERUSALEM + +A few years later, on another desolate road, crossing another lonely +plain, another traveller met with a very similar adventure thousands +of miles away from England. Only this traveller's experiences were +much worse than Leonard Fell's. He was not only attacked by three +robbers instead of one alone, but this happened amid many other far +worse dangers and narrower escapes. Possibly he even looked back, in +after days, to his encounter with the robbers as one of the pleasanter +parts of his journey! + +This traveller's name was George Robinson, and he was an English +Quaker and a London youth. He has left the record of his experiences +in a few closely printed pages at the end of a very small book. + +'In the year 1657,' he writes, 'about the beginning of the seventh +month [September], as I was waiting upon the Lord in singleness of +heart, His blessed presence filled me and by the power of His Spirit +did command me to go unto Jerusalem, and further said to me, "Thy +sufferings shall be great, but I will bear thee over them all."' + +This was no easy journey for anyone in those days, least of all for a +poor man such as George Robinson. However, he set out obediently, and +went by ship to Leghorn in Italy. There he waited a fortnight until he +could get a passage in another ship bound for St. Jean d'Acre, on the +coast of Palestine, where centuries before Richard Coeur de Lion had +disembarked with his Crusaders. Innumerable other pilgrims had landed +there, since Richard's time, on their way to see the Holy Places at +Jerusalem. George Robinson refused to call himself a pilgrim, but he +had a true pilgrim's heart that no difficulties could turn back or +dismay. + +After staying for eight days in the house of a French merchant at +Acre, he set sail in yet a third ship that was bound for Joppa (or +Jaffa, as it is called now). 'But the wind rising against us,' +Robinson says in his narrative, 'we came to an anchor and the next +morning divers Turks came aboard, and demanded tribute of those called +Christians in the vessel, which they paid for fear of sufferings but +very unwillingly, their demands being very unreasonable, and in like +manner demanded of me, but I refusing to pay as according to their +demands, they threatened to beat the soles of my feet with a stick, +and one of them would have put his hand into my pocket, but the +chiefest of them rebuked him. Soon after they began to take me out of +the vessel to effect their work, but one of the Turks belonging to the +vessel speaking to them as they were taking me ashore, they let me +alone, wherein I saw the good Hand of God preserving me.... After +this, about three or four days we came to Joppa.' + +And there at Joppa (or Jaffa), where Jonah long ago had embarked for +Tarshish, and where Peter on the house-top had had his vision of the +great white sheet, our traveller landed. He proceeded straightway on +what he hoped would have been the last stage of his long journey to +Jerusalem. + +Alas! he was mistaken. A few pleasant hours of travel he had, as he +passed through the palm-groves that encircle the city of Jaffa, and +over the first few miles of dusty road that cross the famous Plain of +Sharon. Ever as he journeyed he could see the tall tower of Ramleh, +built by the Crusaders hundreds of years before, growing taller as he +approached, rising in the sunset like a rosy finger to beckon him +across the Plains. When he reached it, in the shadow of the tall Tower +enemies were lurking. Certain friars up at Jerusalem, in the hilly +country that borders the plain, had heard from their brethren at Acre +that a heretic stranger from England was coming on foot to visit the +Holy City. Now these friars, although they called themselves +Franciscans, were no true followers of St. Francis, the 'little poor +man of God,' that gentlest saint and truest lover of holy poverty and +holy peace. These Jerusalem friars had forgotten his teaching, and +lived on the gains they made off pilgrims; therefore, hearing that the +heretic stranger from heretic England was travelling independently and +not on a pilgrimage, they feared that he might spoil their business at +the Holy Shrines. Accordingly they sent word to their brethren, the +friars of Ramleh in the plain, to waylay him and turn him back as soon +as he had reached the first stage of his journey from Jaffa on the +coast. + +'The friars of Jerusalem,' says Robinson, 'hearing of my coming, gave +orders unto some there [at Ramleh] to stay me, which accordingly was +done; for I was taken and locked up in a room for one night and part +of the day following, and then had liberty to go into the yard, but as +a prisoner; in which time the Turks showed friendship unto me, one +ancient man especially, of great repute, who desired that I might come +to his house, which thing being granted, he courteously entertained +me.' + +Four or five days later there came down an Irish friar from Jerusalem +to see the prisoner. At first he spoke kindly to him, and greeted him +as a fellow-countryman, seeing that they both came from the distant +Isles of Britain, set in their silver seas. Presently it appeared, +however, that he had not come out of friendship, but as a messenger +from the friars at Jerusalem, to insist that the Englishman must make +five solemn promises before he could be allowed to proceed on his +journey. He must promise: + +'1. That he would visit the Holy Places [so the friar called them] as +other pilgrims did. + +2. And give such sums of money as is the usual manner of pilgrims. + +3. Wear such a sort of habit as is the manner of pilgrims. + +4. Speak nothing against the Turks' laws. + +5. And when he came to Jerusalem not to speak anything about +religion.' + +George Robinson had no intention of promising any one of these +things--much less all five. 'I stand in the will of God, and shall do +as He bids me,' was the only answer he would make, which did not +satisfy the Irish friar. Determined that his journey should not have +been in vain, and persuasion having proved useless, he sought to +accomplish his object by force. Taking his prisoner, therefore, he set +him on horseback, and surrounding him with a number of armed guards, +both horsemen and footmen, whom he had brought down from Jerusalem for +the purpose, he himself escorted George Robinson back for the second +time to Jaffa. There, that very day, he put him aboard a vessel on the +point of sailing for Acre. Then, clattering back with his guards +across the plain of Sharon, the Irish friar probably assured the +Ramleh friars that they had nothing more to fear from that heretic. + +Nothing could turn George Robinson from his purpose. He was still +quite sure that his Master had work for His servant to do in His Own +City of Jerusalem; and, therefore, to Jerusalem that servant must go. +He was obliged to stay for three weeks at Acre before he could find a +ship to carry him southwards again. He lodged at this time at the +house of a kind French merchant called by the curious name of Surrubi. + +'A man,' Robinson says, 'that I had never seen before (that I knew +of), who friendly took me into his house as I was passing along, where +I remained about twenty days.' + +Surrubi was a most courteous host to his Quaker visitor. He used to +say that he was sure God had sent him to his house as an honoured +guest. 'For,' he continued, 'when my own countrymen come to me, they +are little to me, but thee I can willingly receive.' 'The old man +would admire the Lord's doing in this thing, and he did love me +exceedingly much,' his visitor records gratefully. 'But the friars had +so far prevailed with the Consul that in twenty days I could not be +received into a vessel for to go to Jerusalem, so that I knew not but +to have gone by land; yet it was several days' journey, and I knew not +the way, not so much as out of the city, besides the great difficulty +there is in going through the country beyond my expression; yet I, not +looking at the hardships but at the heavenly will of our Lord, I was +made to cry in my heart, "Lord, Thy will be done and not mine." And so +being prepared to go, and taking leave of the tender old man, he +cried, "I should be destroyed if I went by land," and would not let me +go.' + +The friars had told the Consul that Robinson had refused to accept +their conditions, 'He will turn Turk,' they said, 'and be a devil.' +But, thanks to Surrubi's kindness and help, after much trouble +Robinson was at length set aboard another ship bound for the south. +And thus after bidding a grateful farewell to his host, he made a +quick passage and came for the second time to Jaffa. Again he set +forth on his last perilous journey. Only a few miles of fertile plain +to cross, only a few hours of climbing up the dim blue hills that were +already in view on the horizon, and then at last he should reach his +goal, the Holy City. + +Even yet it was not to be! This time his troubles began before ever he +came within sight of the tall Tower of Ramleh, under whose shadow his +enemies, the friars, were still lying in wait for him. He says that +having 'left the ship and paid his passage, and having met with many +people on the way, they peacefully passed him by until he had gone +about six miles out of Jaffa.' But on the long straight road that runs +like a dusty white ribbon across the wide parched Plain of Sharon, he +beheld three other figures coming towards him. Two of them rode on the +stately white asses used by travellers of the East. The third, a +person of less consequence, followed on foot. As they came nearer, our +traveller noticed that they all carried guns as well as fierce-looking +daggers stuck in their swathed girdles. However, arms are no unusual +accompaniments for a journey in that country, so Robinson still hoped +to be allowed to pass with a peaceable salutation. Instead of bowing +themselves in return, according to the beautiful Oriental custom, with +the threefold gesture that signifies 'My head, my lips, and my heart +are all at your service,' and the spoken wish that his day might be +blessed, the three men rushed at the English wayfarer and threw +themselves upon him, demanding money. One man held a gun with its +muzzle touching Robinson's breast, another searched his pockets and +took out everything that he could find, while the third held the +asses. 'I, not resisting them,' is their victim's simple account, +'stood in the fear of the Lord, who preserved me, for they passed +away, and he that took my things forth of my pockets put them up +again, taking nothing from me, nor did me the least harm. But one of +them took me by the hand and led me on my way in a friendly manner, +and so left me.... So I, passing through like dangers through the +great love of God, which caused me to magnify His holy name, came, +though in much weakness of body, to Ramleh.' + +At Ramleh worse dangers even than he had met with on his former visit +were awaiting him. Many more perils and hairbreadth escapes had yet to +be surmounted before he could say that his feet--his tired feet--had +stood 'within thy gates, O Jerusalem.' Throughout these later +hardships his faith must have been strengthened by the memory of his +encounter with the robbers, and the victory won by the everlasting +power of meekness. + +East or West, the Master's command can always be followed: the command +not to fight evil with evil, but to overcome evil with good. + +Leonard Fell was given his opportunity of 'putting in practice the +things he had learned' as he travelled in England. Our later pilgrim +had the honour of being tested in the Holy Land itself: + + 'In those holy fields, + Over whose acres walked those blessed feet, + Which [nineteen] hundred years ago were nailed + For our advantage on the bitter cross.' + + + + +XXVIII. SILVER SLIPPERS: OR A QUAKERESS AMONG THE TURKS + + + + + _'If romance, like laughter, is + the child of sudden glory, the + figure of Mary Fisher is the most + romantic in the early Quaker + annals.'--MABEL BRAILSFORD._ + + + _'Truly Mary Fisher is a precious + heart, and hath been very + serviceable here.'--HENRY FELL to + Margt. Fell. (Barbadoes, 1656.)_ + + + _'My dear Father ... Let me not be + forgotten of thee, but let thy + prayers be for me that I may + continue faithful to the end. If + any of your Friends be free to + come over, they may be + serviceable; here are many + convinced, and many desire to know + the way, so I rest.'--MARY FISHER + to George Fox. (Barbadoes, 1655.)_ + + + _'This English maiden would not be + at rest before she went in purpose + to the great Emperor of the Turks, + and informed him concerning the + errors of his religion and the + truth of hers.'--GERARD CROESE._ + + + _'Henceforth, my daughter, do + manfully and without hesitation + those things which by the ordering + of providence will be put into thy + hands; for being now armed with the + fortitude of the faith, thou wilt + happily overcome all thy + adversaries.'--CATHERINE OF SIENA._ + + + + +XXVIII. SILVER SLIPPERS: OR A QUAKERESS AMONG THE TURKS + +I + + +The Grand Turk had removed his Court from Constantinople. His +beautiful capital city by the Golden Horn was in disgrace, on account +of the growing disaffection of its populace and the frequent mutinies +of its garrison. For the wars of Sultan Mahomet against the Republic +of Venice were increasingly unpopular in his capital, whose treasuries +were being drained to furnish constant relays of fresh troops for +further campaigns. Therefore, before its citizens became even more +bankrupt in their allegiance than they already were in their purses, +the ancient Grand Vizier advised his young master to withdraw, for a +while, the radiance of his imperial countenance from the now sullen +city beside the Golden Horn. Thus it came about that in the late +autumn of 1657, Sultan Mahomet, accompanied by his aged minister, +suddenly departed with his whole Court, and took up his residence +close outside the still loyal city of Adrianople. His state entry into +that town was of surpassing splendour, since both the Sultan and his +Minister were desirous to impress the citizens, in order to persuade +them to open their purse-strings and reveal their hidden hoards. +Moreover, they were ever more wishful to dazzle and overawe the +Venetian Ambassador, Ballerino, who was still kept by them, +unrighteously, a prisoner in the said town. + +A full hour or more was the long cavalcade in passing over the narrow +stone bridge that spans the turbid Maritza outside the walls of +Adrianople. In at the great gate, and down the one, long, meandering +street of the city, the imperial procession wound, moving steadily and +easily along, since, an hour or two previously, hundreds of slaves had +filled up the cavernous holes in the roadway with innumerable barrel +loads of sawdust, in honour of the Sultan's arrival. Surrounded by +multitudes of welcoming citizens, the procession wound its way at +length out on the far side of the city. There, amid a semicircle of +low hills, clothed with chestnut woods, the imperial encampment of +hundreds and thousands of silken tents shone glistening in the +sun.[39] + +In one of the most splendid apartments of the Sultan's own most +magnificent pavilion, the two chief personages who presided over this +marvellous silken city might have been seen, deep in conversation, one +sultry evening in June 1658, a few months after the Court had taken +up its residence outside the walls of Adrianople. They formed a +strange contrast: the boy Sultan and his aged Grand Vizier, Kuprüli +the Albanian. Sultan Mahomet, the 'Grand Seignior' of the whole +Turkish Empire, was no strong, powerful man, but a mere stripling who +had been scarred and branded for life, some say even deformed, by an +attack made upon him in earliest infancy by his own unnatural father, +the Sultan Ibrahim. This cruel maniac (whose only excuse was that he +was not in possession of more than half his wits at the time) had been +seized with a fit of ungovernable rage against the ladies of his +harem, and in his fury had done his best to slay his own son and heir. +Happily he had not succeeded in doing more than maim the child, and, +before long, imprisonment and the bow-string put an end to his +dangerous career. But though the boy Sultan had escaped with his life, +and had now reached the age of sixteen years, he never attained to an +imposing presence. He has been described as 'a monster of a man, +deformed in body and mind, stupid, logger-headed, cruel, fierce as to +his visage,' though this would seem to be an exaggeration, since +another account speaks of him as 'young and active, addicted wholly to +the delight of hunting and to follow the chase of fearful and flying +beasts.' In order to have more leisure for these sports he was wont to +depute all the business of government to his Grand Vizier, the aged +Albanian chieftain Kuprüli, who now, bending low before his young +master, so that the hairs of his white beard almost swept the ground, +was having one of his farewell audiences before departing for the +battlefield. Kuprüli, though over eighty years of age, was about to +face danger for the sake of the boy ruler, who lounged luxuriously on +his cushions, glittering with jewels, scented and effeminate, with +sidelong, cunning glances and cruel lips. Yet even Sultan Mahomet, +touched by his aged Minister's devotion, had been fired with unwonted +generosity: 'Ask what you will and you shall have it, even unto the +half of my kingdom,' he was exclaiming with true Oriental fervour. + +The Grand Vizier again swept the ground with his long white beard, +protesting that he was but a humble dead dog in his master's sight, +and that one beam from the imperial eyes was a far more precious +reward than the gold and jewels of the whole universe. Nevertheless, +the Sultan detected a shade of hesitation in spite of the +magniloquence of this refusal. There was something the Grand Vizier +wished to ask. He must be yet further encouraged. + +'Thou hast a boon at heart; I read it in thy countenance,' the Sultan +continued, 'ask and fear not. Be it my fairest province for thy +revenues, my fleetest Arab for thy stable, my whitest Circassian +beauty for thine own, thou canst demand it at this moment without +fear.' So saying, as if to prove his words, he waved away with one +hand the Court Executioner who stood ever at his side when he gave +audience, ready to avenge the smallest slip in etiquette. + +The Grand Vizier looked on the ground, still hesitating and troubled, +'The Joy of the flourishing tree and the Lord of all Magnificence is +my Lord,' he answered slowly, 'the gift I crave is unworthy of his +bountiful goodness. How shall one small speck of dust be noticed in +the full blaze of the noonday sun? Yet, in truth, I have promised this +mere speck of dust, this white stranger woman, by the mouth of my +interpreter, that I would mention to my lord's sublimity her desire to +bask in the sunshine of his rays and----' + +'A white, stranger woman,' interrupted the Sultan eagerly, 'desiring +to see me? Nay, then, the boon is of thy giving, not of mine. Tell me +more! Yet it matters not. Were she beauteous as the crescent at even, +or ill-favoured as a bird of prey, she shall yet be welcome for thy +sake, O faithful Servant, be she a slave or a queen. Tell me only her +name and whence she comes.' + +Again the Grand Vizier made obeisance. 'Neither foul nor fair, neither +young nor old, neither slave nor queen,' he replied. 'She is in truth +a marvel, like to none other these eyes have seen in all their +fourscore years and more. Tender as the dewdrop is her glance; yet +cold as snow is her behaviour. Weak as water in her outward seeming; +yet firm and strong as ice is she in strength of inward purpose.' + +'Of what nation is this Wonder?' enquired the Sultan. 'She can +scarcely be a follower of the Prophet, on whom be peace, since thou +appearest to have gazed upon her unveiled countenance?' + +'Nay, herein is the greatest marvel,' returned the Minister, 'it is an +Englishwoman, come hither in unheard fashion over untrodden ways, with +a tale to tickle the ears. She tells my interpreter (who alone, as +yet, hath spoken with her) that her home is in the cold grey isle of +Britain. That there she dwelt many years in lowly estate, being indeed +but a serving-maid in a town called Yorkshire; or so my interpreter +understands. She saith that there she heard the voice of Allah +Himself, calling her to be His Minister and Messenger, heard and +straightway obeyed. Sayeth, moreover, that she hath already travelled +in His service beyond the utmost western sea, even to the new land +discovered by that same Cristofero of Genoa, whose fellow citizens are +at this hour dwelling in our city yonder. Sayeth that in that far +western land she hath been beaten and imprisoned. Yet, nevertheless, +she was forbidden to rest at home until she had carried her message +"as far to the East as to the West," or some such words. That having +thus already visited the land where sleeps the setting sun of western +skies, she craveth now an audience with the splendid morning Sun, the +light of the whole East; even the Grand Seignior, who is as the Shade +of God Himself.' + +'For what purpose doth she desire an audience?' enquired the Sultan +moodily. + +'Being a mere woman and therefore without skill, she can use only +simple words,' answered the Grand Vizier. '"Tell the Sultan I have +something to declare unto him from the Most High God," such is her +message; but who heedeth what a woman saith? "Never give ear to the +counsels and advices of woman" is the chiefest word inscribed upon the +heart of a wise king, as I have counselled ever. Yet, this once, +seeing that this maiden is wholly unlike all other women, it might be +well to let her bask in the rays of glory rather than turn her +unsatisfied away----.' The Vizier paused expectantly. The Sultan +remained looking down, toying with the pearl and turquoise sheath of +the dagger stuck in his girdle. 'A strange tale,' he said at last, 'it +interests me not, although I feel an unknown Power that forces me to +listen to thy words. Her name?' he suddenly demanded, lifting his eyes +once more to his Minister's face. + +'She gives it not,' returned the other, 'speaketh of herself as but a +Messenger, repeating ever, "Not I, but His Word." Yet my interpreter, +having caused enquiries to be made, findeth that those with whom she +lodgeth in the city do speak of her as Maree. Also, some peasants who +found her wandering on the mountains when the moon was full, and +brought her hither, speak of her by the name of Miriam. Marvelling at +the whiteness of her skin, they deem she is a witch or Moon Maiden +come hither by enchantment. Yet must she on no account be hurt or +disregarded, they say, since she is wholly guileless of evil spells, +and under the special protection of Issa Ben Miriam, seeing that she +beareth his mother's name.' + +The Sultan was growing impatient. 'A fit tale for ignorant peasants,' +he declared. 'Me it doth not deceive. This is but another English +vagabond sent hither by that old jackal Sir Thomas Bendish, their +Ambassador at Constantinople, to dog my footsteps even here, and +report my doings to him. I will not see her, were she ten times a +witch, since she is of his nation and surely comes at his behest.' + +'Let my lord slay his servant with his own hands rather than with his +distrust,' returned the Grand Vizier. 'Had she come from Sir Thomas +Bendish, or by his orders, straightway to him she should have +returned. She hath never even seen him, nor so much as set eyes on our +sacred city beside the Golden Horn. Had she gazed even from a distance +upon the most holy Mosque of the Sacred Wisdom at Constantinople, she +had surely been less utterly astonished at the sight of even our noble +Sultan Selim in this city.' So saying, the Grand Vizier turned to the +entrance of the pavilion, and gazed towards the town of Adrianople +lying in the plain beneath, beyond the poplar-bordered stream of the +Maritza. High above all other buildings rose the great Mosque of +Sultan Selim, with its majestic dome surrounded by slender +sky-piercing minarets. Its 999 windows shone glorious in the rays of +the setting sun:--Sultan Selim, the glory of Adrianople, the ruin of +the architect who schemed its wondrous beauty; since he, poor wretch, +was executed on the completion of the marvel, for this crime only, +that he had placed 999 windows within its walls, and had missed, +though but by one, the miracle of a full thousand. + +The Vizier continued: 'The woman declares she hath come hither on +foot, alone and unattended. Her tale is that she came by the sea from +the Isles of Britain with several companions (filled all of them with +the same desire to behold the face of the Sublime Magnificence) so far +as Smyrna; where, declaring their wish unto the English Consul there, +he, like a wise-hearted man, advised her and her companions "by all +means to forbear." + +'They not heeding and still urgently beseeching him to bring them +further on their journey, the Consul dissembled and used guile. +Therefore, the while he pretended all friendliness and promised to +help forward their enterprise, he in truth set them instead on board a +ship bound for Venice and no wise for Constantinople, hoping thereby +to thwart their purpose, and to force them to return to their native +land. Some of the company, discovering this after the ship had set +sail, though lamenting, did resign themselves to their fate. Only this +maid, strong in soul, would not be turned from her purpose, but +declared constantly that Allah, who had commanded her to come, would +surely bring her there where He would have her, even to the presence +of the Grand Seignior himself. And lo! even as she spoke, a violent +storm arose, the ship was driven out of her course and cast upon the +Island of Zante with its rugged peaks; and there, speaking to the +ship-master, she persuaded him to put her ashore on the opposite coast +of the mainland, even at the place known as the Black Mountain; and +thence she hath made her way hither on foot, alone, and hath met with +nothing but lovingkindness from young and old, so she saith, as the +Messenger of the Great King.' + +The Sultan's interest was aroused at last: 'Afoot--from the Black +Mountain!--incredible! A woman, and alone! It is a journey of many +hundreds of miles, and through wild, mountainous country. What proof +hast thou that she speaketh truly?' + +'My interpreter hath questioned her closely as to her travels. His +home is in that region, and he is convinced that she has indeed seen +the places she describes. Also, she carries ever in her breast a small +sprig of fadeless sea-lavender that groweth only on the Black Mountain +slopes, and sayeth that the sea captain plucked it as he set her +ashore, telling her that it was even as her courage, seeing that it +would never fade.' + +But the Sultan's patience was exhausted: 'I must see this woman and +judge for myself, not merely hear of her from aged lips,' he +exclaimed. 'Witch or woman--moonbeam or maiden--she shall declare +herself in my presence. Only, since she doth dare to call herself the +messenger of the Most High God, let her be accorded the honours of an +Ambassador, that all men may know that the Sultan duly regardeth the +message of Allah.' + + +II + +On a divan of silken cushions in the guest chamber of a house in the +city of Adrianople, a woman lay, still and straight. Midnight was long +past. Outside, the hot wind could be heard every now and then, +listlessly flapping the carved wooden lattice-work shutters of an +overhanging balcony built out on timber props over the river Maritza, +whose turbid waters surged beneath with steady plash. Inside, the +striped silken curtains were closely drawn. The atmosphere was stuffy +and airless, filled with languorous aromatic spices. + +Mary Fisher could not sleep: she lay motionless as the slow hours +passed; gazing into the darkness with wide, unseeing eyes, while she +thought of all that the coming day would bring. The end of her +incredible journey was at hand. The Grand Vizier's word was pledged. +The Grand Turk himself would grant her an audience before the hour of +noon, to receive her Message from the Great King. + +Her Message. Through all the difficulties and dangers of her journey, +that Message had sustained her. As she had tramped over steep mountain +ranges, or won a perilous footing in the water-courses of dry hillside +torrents, more like staircases than roads, thoughts and words had +often rushed unbidden to her mind and even to her lips. No +difficulties could daunt her with that Message still undelivered. Many +an evening as she lay down beneath the gnarled trees of an olive +grove, or cooled her aching feet in the waters of some clear stream, +far beyond any bodily refreshment the intense peace of the Message she +was sent to deliver had quieted the heart of the weary messenger. Only +now that her goal was almost reached, all power of speech or thought +seemed to be taken from her. But, though a candle may burn low, may +even for a time be extinguished, it still carries securely within it +the possibility of flame. Even so the Messenger of the Great King lay, +hour after hour, in the hot night silence; not sleeping, yet smiling: +physically exhausted, yet spiritually unafraid. + +The heat within the chamber became at length unbearably oppressive to +one accustomed, as Mary Fisher had been for weeks past, to sleeping +under the open sky. Stretching up a thin white arm through the scented +darkness, she managed to unfasten the silken cords and buttons of the +curtain above her, and to let in a rush of warm night air. It was +still too early for the reviving breeze to spring up that would herald +the approach of dawn: too early for even the earliest of the orange +hawks, that haunted the city in the daytime, to be awake. Cuddled +close in cosy nests under the wide eaves, their slumbers were +disturbed for a moment as Mary, half sitting up, shook the pierced +lattice-work of the shutters that formed the sides of her apartment. +Peering through the interstices of fragrant wood, she caught sight of +a wan crescent moon, just appearing behind a group of chestnut-trees +on the opposite hill above the river. + +The crescent moon! Her guide over sea and land! Had she not come half +round the world to proclaim to the followers of that same Crescent, a +people truly sitting in gross darkness, the message of the One true +Light? + +However long the midnight hours, dawn surely must be nigh at hand. +Before long, that waning Crescent must set and disappear, and the Sun +of Righteousness arise with healing in His wings. + +There lay the slumbering flame of her wondrous Message. The right +words wherewith to kindle that flame in the hearts of others would +surely be given when the right hour came, however unworthy the +Messenger. + +'As far as the East is from the West,' the weary woman thought to +herself, while the scenes of her wondrous journey across two +hemispheres rushed back unbidden to her mind--'even so far hath He +removed our transgressions from us.' + +At that moment, the eagerly awaited breeze of dawn passed over her hot +temples, soothing her like a friend. Refreshed and strengthened, she +lay down once more, still and straight; her smooth hair braided round +her head; her hands crossed calmly on her breast; in a repose as quiet +and austere, even upon those yielding Oriental cushions, as when she +lay upon her hard, narrow pallet bed at home. + +Before the first apricot flush of dawn crept up the eastern sky, Mary +Fisher had sunk into a tranquil sleep. + + +III + +It was broad daylight, though still early, when she awoke. Outside, +the garden behind the house was now a rippling sea of rose and scarlet +poppies, above which the orange hawks swooped or dived like copper +anchors, in the crisp morning air. Within doors, a slave girl stood +beside the divan in the guest chamber, clapping her hands gently +together to cause the white stranger to awake. But the chamber seemed +full of moonlight, although it was broad day. Had the waning crescent +retraced her footsteps, or left behind some of her chill beams? Mary +Fisher rubbed her eyes. She must surely be dreaming still! Then, +waking fully, she saw that the moon-like radiance came from a heap of +silvery gauze draperies, reflected in the emerald green tiles of the +floor and in the tall narrow mirrors that separated the lattice-work +shutters. + +A flowing robe of silver tissue was spread out over an ottoman in the +centre of the floor. The slave girl at her side was holding up a long +veil of shimmering silver, drawing it through her henna-stained +finger-tips, with low, gurgling cries of delight; then, stretching out +her arms wide, she spread the veil easily to their fullest extent. A +moment later, drawing a tiny ring from her finger, she had pressed the +veil as easily through the small golden circlet, so fine were the +silken folds. Then with significant gestures she explained that all +these treasures were for the stranger to wear instead of her own +apparel. With scornful glances from her dark almond-shaped eyes she +pointed disdainfully to Mary Fisher's own simple garments, which, at +her entrance, she had tossed contemptuously into a heap on the floor. + +The plain, grey, Quakeress's dress did indeed look simpler than ever +amid all the shining Oriental splendour. Worn too it was, and +travel-stained in places, though newly washed, carefully mended and +all ready for use. + +Mary Fisher had been a woman for many years before she became a +Quakeress. Nay more, she was a woman still. It is possible that, for +about the space of half a minute, she may have looked almost +regretfully at the silver tissue draperies and the gauze veil. + +Half a minute. Not longer! For her, a Messenger of the Great King, to +clothe herself in garments worn by Turkish women, unbelievers, +followers of the False Prophet, was impossible, not to be contemplated +for an instant. With the gentleness of complete decision she dismissed +the slave girl, who departed reluctantly towards the women's +apartments. In spite of the froth of shining, billowy folds with which +her arms were full, she turned round as she parted the striped, silken +hangings of the doorway and drew her dusky orange finger-tips in a +significant gesture across her slender brown throat. It was obvious +that the slave girl considered this refusal a very serious breach of +etiquette indeed! + +Left alone, Mary Fisher clothed herself, proudly and yet humbly, in +her own simple garments. Her body bore even yet the marks where cruel +scourgings in her youth had furrowed deep scars from head to waist. +Years ago thus had English Christians received her, when she and her +companion had been whipped until the blood ran down their backs +beneath the market cross at Cambridge. The two young girls were the +first of any of the Friends to be thus publicly scourged. 'This is but +the beginning of the sufferings of the people of God,' Mary had +exclaimed prophetically, as the first stroke of the lash fell on her +shoulders, while the assembled multitudes listened in amazement as the +two suffering women went on to pray for mercy on their persecutors. + +While here, in Adrianople, under the Crescent, the Infidel Turk, to +whom she had come in the power of the very same Message for which she +had suffered in Christian countries, was receiving her with kindness +and respect, offering to clothe her body in sumptuous apparel, instead +of with bloody scars.... + +Mary Fisher sighed with irrepressible pain at the thought. Looking +down, the marks left by the stocks were also plainly visible under the +sunburn round her ankles, as she stood, bare-footed, on the crimson +rug. She gladly covered up those tell-tale tokens under her white +stockings. But where were her shoes? They seemed to have disappeared. +Although the few strips of worn leather that she had put off the night +before had been scarcely worthy of the name of shoes, their +disappearance might be a grave difficulty. Had they been taken away in +order to force her to appear bare-footed before the Sultan? + +Ah!--here the slave girl was reappearing. Kneeling down, with a +triumphant smile she forced the Englishwoman's small, delicate +feet--hardened, it is true, by many hundreds of miles of rough +travelling, but shapely still--into a little pair of embroidered +silver slippers. Turkish slippers! glistening with silver thread and +crystal beads, turned up at the pointed toes, and finished by two +silver tufted tassels, that peeped out incongruously from under the +straight folds of the simple grey frock. + +This time Mary Fisher yielded submissively and made not the slightest +resistance. It did not matter to her in the least how her feet were +shod, so long as they were shod in some way, and she was saved from +having to pay a mark of homage to the Infidel. As she sat with folded +hands on the divan, awaiting the summons of the Grand Vizier, her deep +eyes showed that her thoughts were far, far away from any Silver +Slippers. + + +IV + +'Mahomet, sone of the Emperour, sone of God, thrice heavenly and +thrice known as the renowned Emperour of the Turks, King of Greece, +Macedonia and Moldavia, King of Samaria and Hungary, King of Greater +and Lesser Egypt, King of all the inhabitants of the Earth and the +Earthly Paradise, Guardian of the Sepulchre of thy God, Lord of the +Tree of Life, Lord of all the Emperours of the World from the East +even to the West, Grand Persecutor of the Christians and of all the +wicked, the Joy of the flourishing Tree' ... and so forth and so on. + +The owner of all these high-sounding titles was hunched up on his +cushions in the State Pavilion. 'On State occasions, among which it is +evident that he included this Quaker audience, he delighted to deck +his unpleasing person in a vest of cloth of gold, lined with sable of +the richest contrasting blackness. Around him were ranged the servants +of the Seraglio--the highest rank of lacqueys standing nearest the +royal person, the "Paicks" in their embroidered coats and caps of +beaten gold, and the "Solacks," adorned with feathers, and armed with +bows and arrows. Behind them were grouped great numbers of eunuchs and +the Court pages, carrying lances. These wore the peculiar coiffure +permitted only to those of the royal chamber, and above their tresses +hung long caps embroidered with gold. + +'Mary Fisher was ushered into this brilliant scene with all the +honours usually accorded to an Ambassador: the Sultan's dragomans +accompanied her and stood waiting to interpret at the interview. She +was at this time about thirty-five years of age, "a maid ... whose +intellectual faculties were greatly adorned by the gravity of her +deportment." ... She must have stood in her simple grey frock, amidst +that riot of gold and scarlet, like a lily in a garden of tulips, her +quiet face shining in that cruel and lustful place with the joy of a +task accomplished, and the sense of the presence of God.'[40] + +Thus she stood, at the goal of her journey at last, in the presence of +the Grand Turk, she the Messenger of the Great King. There was the +Grand Turk, resplendent in his sable and cloth of gold. Opposite to +him stood the gentle Quakeress, in her plain garment of grey Yorkshire +frieze with its spotless deep collar and close-fitting cap of snowy +lawn. Only the Message was wanting now. + +At first no Message came. + +The Sultan, thinking that the woman before him was naturally alarmed +by such unwonted magnificence, spoke to her graciously. 'He asked by +his interpreters (whereof there were three with him) whether it was +true what had been told him that she had something to say to him from +the Lord God. She answered, "Yea." Then he bade her speak on: and she +not being forward, weightily pondering what she might say. "Should he +dismiss his attendants and let her speak with him in the presence of +fewer listeners?" the Grand Turk asked her kindly.' Again came an +uncourtly monosyllabic 'No,' followed by another baffling silence. + +The executioner, a hook-nosed Kurd with eyes like a bird of prey, +stationed, as always, at the Sultan's right hand, began to look at the +slight woman in grey with a professional interest. He felt the edge of +his blade with a skilful thumb and fore-finger, and turned keen eyes +from the slender throat of the Quakeress, rising above the folds of +snowy lawn, to the aged neck of the Grand Vizier half hidden by his +long white beard. There might be a double failure in etiquette to +avenge, should the Sultan's pleasure change and this unprecedented +interview prove a failure! The executioner smacked his cruel lips with +pleasure at the thought, looking, in his azalea-coloured garment, like +an orange hawk himself, all ready to pounce on his victims. + +Still Silence reigned:--a keen silence more piercing than the sharpest +Damascene blade. It was piercing its way into one heart already. Not +into the heart of the aged Grand Vizier. The Grand Vizier was frankly +bored, and was, moreover, beginning to be strangely uneasy at his +_protégée's_ unaccountable behaviour. He turned to his interpreter +with an enquiring frown. The interpreter looked yet more +uncomfortable--even terrified. Approaching his master, he began to +whisper profound apologies into his ear, how that he ought to have +warned him that this might happen; the woman had in truth confessed +that she could not tell when the Message would be sent, nor could she +give it a moment before it came: 'Sayeth indeed that her Teacher in +this strange faith hath been known to keep an assembly of over 1000 +people waiting for a matter of three hours, in order to "famish them +from words," not daring to open his lips without command.' + +'Thou shouldest indeed have mentioned this before! Allah grant that +this maiden keepeth us not here so long,' retorted the Grand Vizier, +with a scowl of natural impatience, seeing that he was to set forth on +his journey to the battle-field that very day, and that moments were +growing precious, even in the timeless East. Then, turning to the +Sultan, he in his turn began to pour out profuse explanations and +apologies. The uncouth, misshapen figure on the central divan, +however, paid scant heed to his Minister. Right into the fierce, +cruel, passionate heart of Sultan Mahomet that strange silence was +piercing: piercing as no words could have done, through the crust +formed by years of self-seeking and sin, piercing, until it found, +until it quickened, 'That of God within.' + +What happened next must be told in the historian Sewel's own words, +since he doubtless heard the tale from the only person who could tell +it, Mary Fisher herself. + +'The Grand Turk then bade her speak the word of the Lord to them and +not to fear, for they had good hearts and could hear it. He also +charged her to speak the word she had to say from the Lord, neither +more nor less, for they were willing to hear it, be it what it would. +_Then she spoke what was upon her mind._' + +She never says what it was. The Message, once delivered, could never +be repeated. + +'The Turks hearkened to her with much attention and gravity until she +had done; and then, the Sultan asking her whether she had anything +more to say? she asked him whether he understood what she had said? +He answered, "Yes, every word," and further said that what she had +spoken was truth. Then he desired her to stay in that country, saying +that they could not but respect such an one, as should take so much +pains to come to them so far as from England with a message from the +Lord God. He also proffered her a guard to bring her into +Constantinople, whither she intended. But she, not accepting this +offer, he told her it was dangerous travelling, especially for such an +one as she: and wondered that she had passed safe so far as she had, +saying also that it was in respect for her, and kindness, that he +proffered it, and that he would not for anything she should come to +the least hurt in his dominions. She having no more to say, the Turks +asked her what she thought of their prophet Mahomet? She answered +warily that she knew him not, but Christ the true prophet, the Son of +God, who was the Light of the World, and enlightened every man coming +into the world, Him she knew. And concerning Mahomet, she said that +they might judge of him to be true or false according to the words and +prophecies he spoke; saying further, "If the word of a prophet shall +come to pass, then shall ye know that the Lord hath sent that prophet: +but if it come not to pass, then shall ye know that the Lord never +sent him." The Turks confessed this to be true, and Mary, having +performed her message, departed from the camp to Constantinople +without a guard, whither she came without the least hurt or scoff....' + + +V + +Thus Mary returned safe to England, where, if not romance, at any rate +solid happiness awaited her in the shape of a certain William Bayly. +He, a Quaker preacher and master mariner, having been himself a great +traveller and having endured repeated imprisonments in distant +countries, could appreciate the courage and success of her +unprecedented journey. At any rate, as the historian quaintly tells +us, he 'thought her worthy to make him a second wife.' + +A few months after her return to England, but while she was still +unmarried, Mary Fisher wrote the following account of her travels to +some of the friends in whose company she had suffered imprisonment in +former days before her great journey. + + 'My dear love salutes you all in one, you have been often in my + remembrance since I departed from you, and being now returned + into England and many trials, such as I was never tried with + before, yet have borne my testimony for the Lord before the King + unto whom I was sent, and he was very noble unto me, and so were + all they that were about him: he and all that were about him + received the word of truth without contradiction. They do dread + the name of God, many of them, and eyes His messengers. There is + a royal seed amongst them which in time God will raise. They are + more near truth than many Nations, there is a love begot in me + towards them which is endless, but this is my hope concerning + them, that He who hath raised me to love them more than many + others will also raise His seed in them unto which my love is. + Nevertheless, though they be called Turks, the seed of them is + near unto God, and their kindness hath in some measure been + shewn towards His servants. After the word of the Lord was + declared unto them, they would willingly have me to stay in the + country, and when they could not prevail with me, they + proffered me a man and a horse to go five days' journey that was + to Constantinople, but I refused and came safe from them. The + English are more bad, most of them, yet hath a good word gone + through them, and some have received it, but they are few: so I + rest with my dear love to you all--Your dear sister, MARY + FISHER.' + + +VI + +Forty years later, in 1697, an aged woman was yet alive at Charlestown +in America, who was still remembered as the heroine of the famous +journey so many years before. Although twice widowed since then, and +now with children and grandchildren around her, she was spoken of to +the end by her maiden name. A shipwrecked visitor from the other side +of the Atlantic describes her in his letters home as 'one whose name +you have heard of, Mary Fisher, she that spoke to the Grand Turk.' + +In the dwelling of that ancient widow, however old she grew, however +many other relics she kept--remembrances of her two husbands, of +children and grandchildren--between the pages of her well-worn Bible +was there not always one pressed sprig of the fadeless sea-lavender +that grows on the rocky shores of the Black Mountain? And, somewhere +or other, in the drawer of an inlaid cabinet or work-table there must +have been also one precious packet, carefully tied up with ribbon and +silver paper, in which some favourite grandchild, allowed for a treat +to open it, would find, to her indescribable delight, a little +tasselled pair of Turkish + + SILVER SLIPPERS. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[39] A certain Englishman, Paul Rycaut by name, has left a description +of this encampment as he saw it on his visit a short time afterwards. +'The tents were raised on a small hill, and about 2000 in number, +ranged at that time without order, only the Grand Signior's seemed to +be in the midst to overtop all the rest, well worthy observation, +costing (as was reported) 180,000 dollars, richly embroidered in the +inside with gold. Within the walls of this tent (as I may so call +them) were all sorts of offices belonging to the Seraglio, apartments +for the pages, chiosks or summer-houses for pleasure, and though I +could not get admittance to view the innermost rooms and chambers, yet +by the outward and more common places of resort I could make a guess +at the richness of the rest, being sumptuous beyond comparison of any +in use among Christian princes. On the right hereof was pitched the +Grand Vizier's tent, exceeding rich and lofty, and had I not seen that +of the Sultan before it, I should have judged it the best that mine +eyes had seen. The ostentation and richness of this empire being +evidenced in nothing more than the richness of their pavilions, +sumptuous beyond the fixed palaces of princes, erected with marble and +mortar.' + +[40] _Quaker Women_, by Mabel R. Brailsford. + + + + +XXIX. FIERCE FEATHERS + + + + + _'We who were once slayers of one + another do not now fight against our + enemies.'--JUSTIN MARTYR. A.D. 140._ + + + _'Victory that is gotten by the + sword is a victory slaves get one + over the other; but victory + contained by love is a victory for + a king.'--GERRARD WINSTANLEY. 1649._ + + + _'Here you will come to love God + above all, and your neighbours as + yourselves. Nothing hurts, nothing + harms, nothing makes afraid on + this holy mountain.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'My friends that are gone or are + going over to plant and make + outward plantations in America, + keep your own plantations in your + hearts with the spirit and power + of God, that your own vines and + lilies be not hurt.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'Take heed of many words, what + reaches to the life settles in the + life. That which cometh from the + life and is received from God, + reaches to the life and settles + others in the life.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'An old Indian named Papunehang + appreciated the spirit and + atmosphere of a Friends' meeting, + even if he did not comprehend the + words, telling the interpreter + afterwards, "I love to feel where + words come from."'--A.M. GUMMERE + (from John Woolman's Journal)._ + + + + +XXIX. FIERCE FEATHERS + + +The sunlight lay in patches on the steep roof of the Meeting-house of +Easton Township, in the County of Saratoga, in the State of New York. +It was a bright summer morning in the year 1775. The children of +Easton Township liked their wooden house, although it was made only of +rough-hewn logs, nailed hastily together in order to provide some sort +of shelter for the worshipping Friends. They would not, if they could, +have exchanged it for one of the more stately Meeting-houses at home +in England, on the other side of the Atlantic. There, the windows were +generally high up in the walls. English children could see nothing +through the panes but a peep of sky, or the topmost branches of a tall +tree. When they grew tired of looking in the branches of the tree for +an invisible nest that was not there, there was nothing more to be +hoped for, out of those windows. The children's eyes came back inside +the room again, as they watched the slow shadows creep along the +white-washed walls, or tried to count the flies upon the ceiling. But +out here in America there was no need for that. The new Meeting-house +of Easton had nearly as many possibilities as the new world outside. +To begin with, its logs did not fit quite close together. If a boy or +girl happened to be sitting in the corner seat, he or she could often +see, through a chink, right out into the woods. For the untamed +wilderness still stretched away on all sides round the newly-cleared +settlement of Easton. + +Moreover, there were no glass windows in the log house as yet, only +open spaces provided with wooden shutters that could be closed, if +necessary, during a summer storm. Another larger, open space at one +end of the building would be closed by a door when the next cold +weather came. At present the summer air met no hindrance as it blew in +softly, laden with the fragrant scents of the flowers and pine-trees, +stirring the children's hair as it lightly passed. Every now and then +a drowsy bee would come blundering in by mistake, and after buzzing +about for some time among the assembled Friends, he would make his +perilous way out again through one of the chinks between the logs. The +children, as they sat in Meeting, always hoped that a butterfly might +also find its way in, some fine day--before the winter came, and +before the window spaces of the new Meeting-house had to be filled +with glass, and a door fastened at the end of the room to keep out the +cold. Especially on a mid-week Meeting like to-day, they often found +it difficult to 'think Meeting thoughts' in the silence, or even to +attend to what was being said, so busy were they, watching for the +entrance of that long desired butterfly. + +For children thought about very much the same kind of things, and had +very much the same kind of difficulties in Meeting, then as now; even +though the place was far away, and it is more than a hundred years +since that sunny morning in Easton Township, when the sunlight lay in +patches on the roof. + +It was not only the children who found silent worship difficult that +still summer morning. There were traces of anxiety on the faces of +many Friends and even on the placid countenances of the Elders in +their raised seats in the gallery. There, at the head of the Meeting, +sat Friend Zebulon Hoxie, the grandfather of most of the children who +were present. Below him sat his two sons. Opposite them, their wives +and families, and a sprinkling of other Friends. The children had +never seen before one of the stranger Friends who sat in the gallery +that day, by their grandfather's side. They had heard that his name +was Robert Nisbet, and that he had just arrived, after having walked +for two days, thirty miles through the wilderness country to sit with +Friends at New Easton at their mid-week Meeting. The children had no +idea why he had come, so they fixed their eyes intently on the +stranger and stirred gently in their seats with relief when at last he +rose to speak. They had liked his kind, open face as soon as they saw +it. They liked still better the sound of the rich, clear voice that +made it easy for even children to listen. But they liked the words of +his text best of all: 'The Belovéd of the Lord shall dwell in safety +by Him. He shall cover them all the day long.' + +Robert Nisbet lingered over the first words of his message as if they +were dear to him. His voice was full and mellow, and the words seemed +as if they were part of the rich tide of summer life that flowed +around. He paused a moment, and then went on, 'And now, how shall the +Belovéd of the Lord be thus in safety covered? Even as saith the +Psalmist, "He shall cover thee with His feathers and under His wings +shalt thou trust."' Then, changing his tones a little and speaking +more lightly, though gravely still, he continued: 'You have done well, +dear Friends, to stay on valiantly in your homes, when all your +neighbours have fled; and therefore are these messages sent to you by +me. These promises of covering and of shelter are truly meant for +you. Make them your own and you shall not be afraid for the terror by +night, nor for the arrow that flieth by day.' + +Here the boys and girls on the low benches under the gallery looked at +one another. Now they knew what had brought the stranger! He had come +because he had heard of the danger that threatened the little clearing +of settlers in the woods. For though New Easton and East Hoosack lay +thirty miles apart they were both links in the long chain of Quaker +Settlements that had been formed to separate the territory belonging +to the Dutch Traders (who dwelt near the Hudson River) from the +English Settlements along the valley of the Connecticut. In former +days disputes between the Dutch and English Colonists had been both +frequent and fierce, until at length the Government had conceived the +brilliant idea of establishing a belt of neutral ground between the +disputants, and peopling it with unwarlike Quakers. The plan worked +well. The Friends, in their settlements strung out over a long, narrow +strip of territory, were on friendly terms with their Dutch and +English neighbours on either side. Raids went out of fashion. Peace +reigned, and for a time the authorities were well content. + +A fiercer contest was now brewing, no longer between two handfuls of +Colonists but between the inhabitants of two great Continents. For it +was just before the outbreak of the Revolutionary War of 1775. The +part of the country in which Easton Township was situated was already +distressed by visits of scouting parties from both British and +American armies, and the American Government, unable to protect the +inhabitants, had issued a proclamation directing them to leave the +country. This was the reason that all the scattered houses in the +neighbourhood were deserted, save only the few tenanted by the handful +of Friends. + +'You did well, Friends,' the speaker continued, 'well to ask to be +permitted to exercise your own judgment without blame to the +authorities, well to say to them in all courtesy and charity, "You are +clear of us in that you have warned us"--and to stay on in your +dwellings and to carry out your accustomed work. The report of this +your courage and faith hath reached us in our abiding place at East +Hoosack, and the Lord hath charged me to come on foot through the +wilderness country these thirty miles, to meet with you to-day, and to +bear to you these two messages from Him, "The Belovéd of the Lord +shall dwell in safety by Him," and "He shall cover thee with His +feathers all the day long."' + +The visitor sat down again in his seat. The furrowed line of anxiety +in old Zebulon Hoxie's high forehead smoothed itself away; the eyes of +one or two of the younger women Friends filled with tears. As the +speaker's voice ceased, little Susannah Hoxie's head, which had been +drooping lower and lower, finally found a resting-place, and was +encircled by her mother's arm. Young Mrs. Hoxie drew off her small +daughter's shady hat, and put it on the seat beside her, while she +very gently stroked back the golden curls from the child's high +forehead. In doing this she caught a rebuking glance from her elder +daughter, Dinah. + +'Naughty, naughty Susie, to go to sleep in Meeting,' Dinah was +thinking; 'it is very hot, and _I_ am sleepy too, but _I_ don't go to +sleep. I do wish a butterfly would come in at the window just for +once--or a bird, a little bird with blue, and red, and pink, and +yellow feathers. I liked what that stranger Friend said about being +'covered with feathers all the day long.' I wish I was all covered +with feathers like a little bird. I wish there were feathers in +Meeting, or anywhere close outside.' She turned in her corner seat and +looked through the slit in the wall--why there were feathers close +outside the wall of the house, red, and yellow, and blue, and pink! +What could they be? Very gently Dinah moved her head, so that her eye +came closer to the slit. But, when she looked again, the feathers had +mysteriously disappeared--nothing was to be seen now but a slight +trembling of the tree branches in the wilderness woods at a little +distance. + +In the mean while her brother, Benjamin Hoxie, on the other low seat +opposite the window, was also thinking of the stranger's sermon. 'He +said it was a valiant thing to do, to stop on here when all the +neighbours have left. I didn't know Friends could do valiant things. I +thought only soldiers were valiant. But if a scouting party really did +come--if those English scouts suddenly appeared, then even a Quaker +boy might have a chance to show that he is not necessarily a coward +because he does not fight.' Benjamin's eyes strayed also out of the +open window. It was very hot and still in the Meeting-house. Yet the +bushes certainly were trembling. How strange that there should be a +breeze there and not here! 'Thou shall not be afraid for the arrow +that flieth by day,' he thought to himself. 'Well, there are no arrows +in this part of the country any longer, now that they say all the +Indians have left. I wonder, if I saw an English gun pointing at me +out of those bushes, should I be afraid?' + +But it was gentle Mrs. Hoxie, with her arm still round her baby +daughter, who kept the stranger's words longest in her heart. 'Shall +dwell in safety by Him,--the Belovéd of the Lord,' she repeated to +herself over and over again, 'yet my husband hath feared for me, and +we have both been very fearful for the children. Truly, we have known +the terror by night these last weeks in these unsettled times, even +though our duty was plainly to stay here. Why were we so fearful? we +of little faith. "The Belovéd of the Lord shall dwell in safety by +Him. He shall cover him with His feathers all the day long."' + +And then, in her turn, Mrs. Hoxie looked up, as her little daughter +had done, and saw the same three tall feathers creeping above the sill +of the open Meeting-house window frame. For just one moment her heart, +that usually beat so calmly under her grey Quaker robe, seemed to +stand absolutely still. She went white to the lips. Then 'shall dwell +in safety by Him,' the words flashed back to her mind. She looked +across to where her husband sat--an urgent look. He met her eyes, read +them, and followed the direction in which she gazed. Then he, too, saw +the feathers--three, five, seven, nine, sticking up in a row. Another +instant, and a dark-skinned face, an evil face, appeared beneath them, +looking over the sill. The moment most to be dreaded in the lives of +all American settlers--more terrible than any visit from civilised +soldiers--had come suddenly upon the little company of Friends alone +here in the wilderness. An Indian Chief was staring in at their +Meeting-house window, showing his teeth in a cruel grin. In his hand +he held a sheaf of arrows, poisoned arrows, only too ready to fly, and +kill, by day. + +All the assembled Friends were aware of his presence by this time, and +were watching the window now, though not one of them moved. Mrs. Hoxie +glanced towards her other little daughter, and saw to her great relief +that Dinah too had fallen asleep, her head against the wooden wall. +Dinah and Susie were the two youngest children in Meeting that +morning. The others were mostly older even than Benjamin, who was +twelve. They were, therefore, far too well-trained in Quaker stillness +to move, for any Indians, until the Friends at the head of the Meeting +should have shaken hands and given the signal to disperse. +Nevertheless, the hearts of even the elder girls were beating very +fast. Benjamin's lips were tightly shut, and with eyes that were +unusually bright he followed every movement of the Indian Chief, who, +as it seemed in one bound and without making the slightest noise, had +moved round to the open doorway. + +There he stood, the naked brown figure, in full war-paint and +feathers, looking with piercing eyes at each man Friend in turn, as if +one of them must have the weapons that he sought. But the Friends were +entirely unarmed. There was not a gun, or a rifle, or a sword to be +found in any of their dwelling-houses, so there could not be any in +their peaceful Meeting. + +A minute later, a dozen other Redskins, equally terrible, stood beside +the Chief, and the bushes in the distance were quite still. The bushes +trembled no longer. It was Benjamin who found it hard not to +tremble now, as he saw thirteen sharp arrows taken from their quivers +by thirteen skinny brown hands, and their notches held taut to +thirteen bow-strings, all ready to shoot. Yet still the Friends sat +on, without stirring, in complete silence. + +[Illustration: FIERCE FEATHERS] + +Only Benjamin, turning his head to look at his grandfather, saw +Zebulon Hoxie, the patriarch of the Meeting, gazing full at the Chief, +who had first approached. The Indian's flashing eyes, under the matted +black eyebrows, gazed back fiercely beneath his narrow red forehead +into the Quaker's calm blue eyes beneath the high white brow and snowy +hair. No word was spoken, but in silence two powers were measured +against one another--the power of hate, and the power of love. For +steady friendliness to his strange visitors was written in every line +of Zebulon Hoxie's face. + +The children never knew how long that steadfast gaze lasted. But at +length, to Benjamin's utter astonishment, for some unknown reason the +Indian's eyes fell. His head, that he had carried high and haughtily, +sank towards his breast. He glanced round the Meeting-house three +times with a scrutiny that nothing could escape. Then, signing to his +followers, the thirteen arrows were noiselessly replaced in thirteen +quivers, the thirteen bows were laid down and rested against the wall; +many footsteps, lighter than falling snow, crossed the floor; the +Indian Chief, unarmed, sat himself down in the nearest seat, with his +followers in all their war-paint, but also unarmed, close round him. + +The Meeting did not stop. The Meeting continued--one of the strangest +Friends' Meetings, surely, that ever was held. The Meeting not only +continued, it increased in solemnity and in power. + +Never, while they lived, did any of those present that day forget that +silent Meeting, or the brooding Presence, that, closer, clearer than +the sunlight, filled the bright room. + +'Cover thee with His feathers all the day long.' + +The Friends sat in their accustomed stillness. But the Indians sat +more still than any of them. They seemed strangely at home in the +silence, these wild men of the woods. Motionless they sat, as a group +of trees on a windless day, or as a tranquil pool unstirred by the +smallest breeze; silent, as if they were themselves a part of Nature's +own silence rather than of the family of her unquiet, human children. + +The slow minutes slipped past. The peace brooded, and grew, and +deepened. 'Am I dreaming?' Mrs. Hoxie thought to herself more than +once, and then, raising her eyes, she saw the Indians still in the +same place, and knew it was no dream. She saw, too, that Benjamin's +eyes were riveted to some objects hanging from the strangers' waists, +that none of the other Friends appeared to see. + +At last, when the accustomed hour of worship was ended, the two +Friends at the head of the Meeting shook hands solemnly. Then, and not +till then, did old Zebulon Hoxie advance to the Indian Chief, and with +signs he invited him and his followers to come to his house close at +hand. With signs they accepted. The strange procession crossed the +sunlit path. Susie and Dinah, wide awake now, but kept silent in +obedience to their mother's whispers, were watching the feathers with +clear, untroubled eyes that knew no fear. Only Benjamin shivered as if +he were cold. + +When the company had arrived at the house, Zebulon put bread and +cheese on the table, and invited his unwonted guests to help +themselves. They did so, thanking him with signs, as they knew little +or no English. Robert Nisbet, the visiting Friend, who could speak and +understand French, had a conversation with one of the Indians in that +language, and this was what he said: 'We surrounded your house, +meaning to destroy every living person within it. But when we saw you +sitting with your door open, and _without weapons of defence_, we had +no wish any longer to hurt you. Now, we would fight for you, and +defend you ourselves from all who wish you ill.' Meanwhile the Chief +who had entered first was speaking in broken English to old Zebulon +Hoxie, gesticulating to make his meaning clear. + +'Indian come White Man House,' he said, pointing with his finger +towards the Settlement, 'Indian want kill white man, one, two, three, +six, all!' and he clutched the tomahawk at his belt with a gruesome +gesture. 'Indian come, see White Man sit in house; no gun, no arrow, +no knife; all quiet, all still, worshipping Great Spirit. Great Spirit +inside Indian too;' he pointed to his breast; 'then Great Spirit say: +"Indian! No kill them!"' With these words, the Chief took a white +feather from one of his arrows, and stuck it firmly over the centre of +the roof in a peculiar way. 'With that white feather above your +house,' the French-speaking Indian said to Robert Nisbet, 'your +settlement is safe. We Indians are your friends henceforward, and you +are ours.' + +A moment later and the strange guests had all disappeared as +noiselessly as they had come. But, when the bushes had ceased to +tremble, Benjamin stole to his mother's side. 'Mother, did you _see_, +did you _see_?' he whispered. 'They were _not_ friendly Indians. They +were the very most savage kind. Did you,' he shuddered, 'did you, and +father, and grandfather, and the others not notice what those things +were, hanging from their waists? They were _scalps_--scalps of men and +women that those Indians had killed,' and again he shuddered. + +His mother stooped and kissed him. 'Yea, my son,' she answered, 'I did +see. In truth we all saw, too well, save only the tender maids, thy +sisters, who know naught of terror or wrong. But thou, my son, when +thou dost remember those human scalps, pray for the slayers and for +the slain. Only for thyself and for us, have no fear. Remember, +rather, the blessing of that other Benjamin, for whom I named thee. +"The Belovéd of the Lord shall dwell in safety by Him. He shall cover +him all the day long."' + + + + +XXX. THE THIEF IN THE TANYARD + + + + + _'In the House of Love men do not + curse nor swear; they do not destroy + nor kill any. They use no outward + swords or spears. They seek to to + destroy no flesh of man; but it is a + fight of the cross and patience to + the subduing of sin.'--HENRY + NICHOLAS (circa 1540)_. + + + _'We have to keep in mind the + thought of Christ. To us it seems + most important to stop the evil + act, hold it down by force, or + push off its consequences on to + someone else: anything, so long as + we get rid of them from ourselves. + Christ's thought was to change the + evil mind, whatever physical + consequences action, directed to + this end, might involve.... This + is the essence of "turning the + other cheek," it is the attitude + most likely to convert the sinner + who injures us, whether it + actually does so or not,--we + cannot force him to be converted.' + ... 'Those who try this method of + love for the sake of the evildoer + must be prepared to go down, if + necessary, as the front ranks + storming a strong position go + down, paying the price of victory + for those who come after them. + This method is not certain to + conquer the evil mind: it is the + most likely way to do it, and it + is that that matters most.'--A. + NEAVE BRAYSHAW._ + + + + +XXX. THE THIEF IN THE TANYARD + + +Knock! knock! knock! + +The tremulous sound, three times repeated, disturbed the stillness of +an empty street of small wooden houses. The night was very dark, but +the square mass of the tanner's house could just be discerned, black +and solid against the sky. The rays of a solitary oil lamp straggled +faintly across the roadway, and showed a man with a large bundle on +his back standing on the doorstep of that house, knocking as if he +were afraid of the noise he made. + +Knock! knock! knock! He tried once more, but with growing timidity and +hesitation. Evidently the inmates of the house were busy, or too far +off to hear the feeble summons. No one answered. The man's small stock +of courage seemed exhausted. Giving his heavy bundle a hitch back on +to his shoulder, he slunk off down the road, to where at a little +distance the small oil lamp high up on the wall beckoned faintly in +the darkness. The all-pervading smell of a tannery close by filled the +air. + +When he came directly under the lamp, the man stopped. The light, +falling directly upon the package he carried, showed it to be a bundle +of hides all ready for tanning. Here he stopped, and drew out a piece +of crumpled newspaper from his pocket. Smoothing out the creases as +carefully as he could, he held it up towards the lamp, and read once +more the strange words that he already knew almost by heart. + +This notice was printed in large letters in the advertisement column: +'WHOEVER stole a lot of hides on the fifth day of the present month +is HEREBY informed that their owner has a sincere wish to be his +friend. If poverty tempted him to this false step the owner will keep +the whole transaction secret, and will gladly put him in the way of +obtaining money by means more likely to bring him peace of mind.' + +'If poverty tempted him to this false step,' the man repeated to +himself half aloud. 'Tanner Savery wraps up his meaning in fine words, +but their sense is plain enough. If it was being poor that drove a man +to become a thief and to steal these hides from the shadow of that +dark archway down by the river last Sunday night,--suppose it was +poverty, well what then? Friend Savery "will gladly put him in the way +of obtaining money by means more likely to bring him peace of mind." +Will he indeed? Can I trust him? Is it a hoax? I would rather do +without the money now, if only I could get rid of these hides, and of +their smell, that sticks to a man's nostrils even as sin does to his +memory. But the tanner promises to give me back peace of mind, does +he? Well, that's a fair offer and worth some risk. I'll knock once +more at his door and see what happens.' + +Stuffing the newspaper into his pocket he walked quickly up the road +again, back to the square house, and up the sanded steps. Again he +lifted the brass knocker, and again 'knock! knock! knock!' rang out on +the night air. But this time the knocking was less tremulous, and as +it happened the inmates of the house were crossing the hall on their +way to bed and heard the sound at once. In less than a minute the door +opened, and a square brass candlestick, held high up, threw its light +out into the street. The candlestick was held by a tall man with +greyish white hair, whom all the town knew as Tanner Savery. Peeping +behind his shoulder appeared his wife's gentle face, surmounted by the +clear muslin of a Quakeress's cap. The man on the doorstep never +lifted up his eyes to the couple. 'I've brought them back, Mr. +Savery,' he mumbled, too much ashamed even to explain what he meant by +'them.' But William Savery needed no explanation. Ever since the hides +had mysteriously disappeared from his tanyard a few days before, he +had felt sure that this quarrelsome neighbour of his must have taken +them. + +What was that neighbour's real name? That, nobody knows, or ever will +know now. We only know that whatever it may have been it certainly was +not John Smith, because when, in after years, Tanner Savery +occasionally told this story he always called the stealer of his hides +'John Smith' in order to disguise his identity; so we will speak of +John Smith too. 'A ne'er-do-well' was the character people gave him. +They spoke of him as a man who was his own worst enemy, sadly too fond +of his glass, and always quarrelling with his neighbours. Only William +Savery refused to believe that any man could be altogether evil, and +he kept a ray of hope in his heart for John Smith, even when his +valuable bundle of hides mysteriously disappeared. It was that ray of +hope that had made him put the advertisement in the paper, though he +knew it would set the town laughing over 'those Quakers and their +queer soft ways.' This evening the ray of hope was shining more +brightly than ever. More brightly even than the candlelight shone in +the darkness of the night, the hope in his heart shone through the +brightness of the Tanner's eyes and smile. Yet he only answered +cheerily, 'All right, friend, wait till I can light a lantern and go +to the barn to take them back with thee.' + +There was no trace of surprise in his voice. Those matter-of-fact +tones sounded as if it were the most natural thing in the world to go +out to the tanyard at 10 o'clock at night instead of going upstairs to +bed. + +'After we have done that,' he continued, 'perhaps thou wilt come in +and tell me how this happened; we will see what can be done for thee.' + +A lantern, hanging on its hook in the hall, was soon lighted. The two +men picked their way down the sanded steps again, then passing under a +high creeper-covered gateway they followed a narrow, flagged path to +the tanyard. + +All this time William Savery had not said one word to his wife--but +the ring of happiness in his voice had made her happy too, and had +told her what he would like her to do during his absence from the +house. Lifting up the bedroom candlestick from the oak chest on which +her husband had set it down, she hastened to the larder, then to the +kitchen, where she poked up the fire into a bright glow, put a kettle +on, and then went back again through the hall to the parlour, to and +fro several times. When the two men returned to the house a quarter of +an hour later, the fragrance of hot coffee greeted them. Solid pies +and meat were spread out on the dark oak table. Mrs. Savery's pies +were famous throughout the town. But besides pies there were cakes, +buns, bread, and fruit,--a meal, indeed, to tempt any hungry man. + +'I thought some hot supper would be good for thee, neighbour Smith,' +said Mrs. Savery in her gentle voice, as she handed him some coffee in +one of her favourite blue willow-pattern cups. But John Smith did not +take the cup from her. Instead, he turned his back abruptly, went over +to the high carved fireplace, and leaning down looking into the +glowing coals, said in a choked voice, 'It is the first time I ever +stole anything, and I can tell you I have felt very bad about it ever +since. I don't know how it is. I am sure I didn't think once that I +should ever come to be a thief. First I took to drinking and then to +quarrelling. Since I began to go downhill everybody gives me a kick; +you are the first people who have offered me a helping hand. My wife +is sickly and my children are starving. You have sent them many a +meal, God bless you! Yet I stole the hides from you, meaning to sell +them the first chance I could get. But I tell you the truth when I +say, drunkard as I am, it is the first time I was ever a thief.' + +'Let it be the last time, my friend,' replied William Savery, 'and the +secret shall remain between ourselves. Thou art still young, and it is +within thy power to make up for lost time. Promise me that thou wilt +not take any strong drink for a year, and I will employ thee myself in +the tanyard at good wages. Perhaps we may find some employment for thy +family also. The little boy can, at least, pick up stones. But eat a +bit now, and drink some hot coffee; perhaps it will keep thee from +craving anything stronger tonight.' + +So saying, William Savery advanced, and taking his guest by the arm, +gently forced him into a chair. Mrs. Savery pushed the cup towards +him, and heaped his plate with her excellent meat-pies. The stranger +took up the cup to drink, but his hand trembled so much that he could +not put it to his lips. He tried to swallow a small mouthful of bread, +but the effort nearly choked him. William Savery, seeing his guest's +excited state, went on talking in his grave kind voice, to give him +time, and help him to grow calm. + +'Doubtless thou wilt find it hard to abstain from drink at first,' he +continued, 'but keep up a brave heart for the sake of thy wife and +children, and it will soon become easy. Whenever thou hast need of +coffee tell my wife, Mary, and she will give it thee.' + +Mary Savery's blue eyes shone as she nodded her head; she did not say +a word, for she saw that her guest was nearly at an end of his +composure. Gently she laid her hand on his rough sleeve as if to try +to calm and reassure him. But even her light touch was more than he +could bear at that moment. Pushing the food and drink away from him +untasted, he laid both his arms on the table, and burying his head, he +wept like a child. + +The husband and wife looked at each other. 'Can I do anything to help +him?' Mary's eyes asked her husband in silence. 'Leave him alone for a +little; he will be better when this fit of tears is over,' his wise +glance answered back. + +William Savery was right. The burst of weeping relieved John Smith's +over-wrought feelings. Besides, he really was almost faint with +hunger. In a few moments, when the coffee was actually held to his +lips, he found he could drink it--right down to the bottom of the cup. +As if by magic, the cup was filled up again, and then, very quickly, +the meatpies too began to disappear. + +At each mouthful the man grew calmer. It was an entirely different +John Smith who took leave of his kind friends an hour later. Again +they followed him to the door. 'Try to do well, John, and thou wilt +always find a friend in me,' William Savery said, as they parted. Mary +Savery added no words--she was never a woman given to much talk. Only +she slipped her fingers into her guest's hand with a touch that said +silently, 'Fare thee well, _friend_.' + +The next day John Smith entered the tanyard, not this time slinking in +as a thief in the darkness, but introduced by the master himself as an +engaged workman. For many years he remained with his employer, a +sober, honest, and faithful servant, respected by others and +respecting himself. The secret of the first visit was kept. William +and Mary Savery never alluded to it, and John Smith certainly did not, +though the memory of it never left him and altered all the rest of his +life. + +Long years after John Smith was dead, William Savery, in telling the +story, always omitted the man's name. That is why he has to be called +John Smith, because no one knows now, no one ever will know, what his +real name may have been. 'But,' as William Savery used to say when he +was prevailed on to tell the story, 'the thing to know and remember is +that it is possible to overcome Evil with Good.' + + + + +XXXI. HOW A FRENCH NOBLE BECAME A FRIEND + + + + + _Sentences from 'No Cross, No Crown,' + by WILLIAM PENN._ + + _'Come, Reader, hearken to me + awhile; I seek thy salvation; that + is my plot; thou wilt forgive me.'_ + + _'Thou, like the inn of old, hast + been full of guests; thy affections + have entertained other lovers; + there has been no room for thy + Saviour in thy soul ... but his + love is after thee still, & his + holy invitation continues to save + thee.'_ + + _'Receive his leaven, & it will + change thee; his medicine and it + will cure thee; he is as infallible + as free; without money and with + certainty.... Yield up the body, + soul & spirit to Him that maketh + all things new: new heavens & new + earth, new love, new joy, new + peace, new works, a new life & + conversation....'_ + + _'The inward, steady righteousness + of Jesus is another thing than all + the contrived devotion of poor + superstitious man.... True worship + is an inward work; the soul must be + touched and raised in its heavenly + desires by the heavenly Spirit.... + So that souls of true worshippers + see God: and this they wait, they + pant, they thirst for.'_ + + _'Worship is the supreme act of + man's life.'_ + + + + +XXXI. HOW A FRENCH NOBLE BECAME A FRIEND + + +Now we come to a Saint who had a life so full of adventures that a +book twice as big as this one would be needed to contain the stories +that might be told about him alone. + +Unlike any of the other 'Quaker Saints' in this book, he was by birth +a Frenchman and came of noble family. His name was Etienne de Grellet. +He was born nearly a century after the death of George Fox; but he +probably did not know that such a person had ever existed, never even +heard Fox's name, until long after he was grown up. If Etienne de +Grellet, the gay young nobleman of the French court, had been told +that his story would ever be written in a book of 'Quaker Saints' he +would, most likely, have raised his dark eyebrows and have looked +extremely surprised. + +'_Quakère? Qu'est-ce que c'est alors, Quakère? Quel drôle de mot! Je +ne suis pas Quakère, moi!_' he might have answered, with a disdainful +shrug of his high, narrow, aristocratic French shoulders. Yet here he +is after all! + + * * * * * + +Etienne de Grellet was born at Limoges in France, in the year 1773. +His childhood was passed in the stormy years when the cloud was +gathering that was to burst a little later in the full fury of the +French Revolution. His father, Gabriel de Grellet, a wealthy merchant +of Limoges, was a great friend and counsellor of Louis XVI. and Marie +Antoinette. As a reward for having introduced into the country the +manufacture of finer porcelain than had ever before been made in +France he was ennobled by the king, whom he often used to attend in +his private chapel. Limoges china is still celebrated all over the +world; and at that time the most celebrated of its china-makers was M. +de Grellet, the king's friend. + +Naturally the sons of this successful merchant and nobleman were +brought up in great luxury. Etienne and his brothers were not sent to +a school, but had expensive tutors to teach them at home. Their +parents wanted their children to be well educated, honourable, +straightforward, generous, and kind; to possess not only +accomplishments but good qualities. Yet Etienne felt, when he looked +back in later days, that something had been left out in their +education that was, perhaps, the most important thing of all. + +When he was quite a little boy he was taken to visit one of his aunts +who was a nun in a convent near Limoges. The rules of this convent +were so strict that the nuns might not even see their relations who +came to visit them. They might only speak to them from the other side +of two iron gratings, between the bars of which a thick curtain was +hung. The little boy thought it very strange to be taken from his +beautiful home, full of costly furniture, pictures, and hangings, and +to be brought into the bare convent cell. Then he looked up and saw an +iron grating, and heard a voice coming through the folds of a thick +curtain that hung behind it. He could hear the voice, but he might +never see the face of the aunt who spoke to him. At night at home, as +he lay in his comfortable bed, he used to think of his aunt and the +other nuns 'rising three times in the night for prayer in the church, +from the hard boards which formed their couch, even the luxury of a +straw pallet being denied them.' 'Which is the real life,' he used to +ask himself, 'the easy comfortable life that goes on round me every +day, or that other, difficult life hidden behind the folds of the +thick curtain?' + +Child though he was, Etienne felt that his aunt loved him, although he +had never seen her. This helped him to feel that, although unseen, God +was loving him too. As he grew older he wondered: 'Perhaps everything +we see here is like the bars of a grating, or a thick curtain. Perhaps +there is some one on the other side who is speaking to us too.' + +Etienne was only about five or six years old when he made the great +discovery that GOD IS THERE, hidden behind the screen of visible +things all round us. After this, he longed to be able to speak to God +and to listen to God's voice, as he was able to listen to his unseen +aunt's voice speaking to him from behind the curtain in the convent. + +No one ever taught him to pray; but presently he discovered that too +for himself. One day, when he was only six years old, his tutor gave +him a Latin lesson to learn that was much too difficult for him. +Etienne took the book up to his bedroom, and there, all alone, he read +it over and over and did his very best to learn it. But the unfamiliar +Latin words would not stay in his memory. At last he closed the book +in despair and went to his bedroom window and looked out. He gazed +over the high roofs of the city, away over the wide plain in which +Limoges lay, to the distant mountain, blue against the sky. +Everything looked fair and peaceful. As he gazed, the thought came to +him, 'God made the plain and the river and the mountains. God made +this whole beautiful world in which I live. If God can create all +these things, surely He can give me memory also.' He knelt down at the +foot of his bed and prayed, for the first time in his life, that his +Unseen Friend would help him to master the difficult lesson. Taking up +the book again, he read the hard Latin words once more, very +attentively. This time the words stayed in his memory and did not fade +away. Often afterwards, he found that if he prayed all his lessons +became easier. He could not, of course, learn them without effort, but +after he had really prayed earnestly, he found he could remember +things better. Then one day he learned the Lord's prayer. Long years +after, when he was an old man, he could still recall the exact spot in +his beautiful home where, as a little boy, he had first learned to +say, 'Our Father.' Etienne and his family belonged to the Roman +Catholic Church. On Sundays they went to the great cathedral of +Limoges; but the service there always seemed strange and far away to +Etienne.[41] The music, the chanting, the Latin words that were said +and sung by bishops and priests in their gorgeous robes, did not seem +to him to have anything to do with the quiet Voice that spoke to the +boy in the silence of his own heart. + +When Etienne and his brothers were old enough they were sent to +several different colleges and schools. Their last place of +instruction was the celebrated College of the Oratorians at Lyons. +Among other things, the students of this College were taught to move +so quietly that fifty or a hundred boys went up or down the stone +steps of the College all together, without their feet making the least +noise. + +Etienne tells us in his diary: 'as we were educated by Roman Catholics +and in their principles we were required to confess once a month,' +that is, to tell a priest whatever they had done that was wrong, and +receive the assurance of God's forgiveness from him. + +The priest to whom Etienne regularly made his confession was 'a pious, +conscientious man,' who treated him with fatherly care. When the boy +told him of his puzzles, and asked how it could be necessary to +confess to any man, since God alone could forgive sins, he received a +kind, helpful answer. 'Yet,' he says, 'my reasoning faculties brought +me to the root of the matter; from created objects to the +Creator--from time to eternity.' After he was confirmed at College he +hoped that his heart would be changed and made different; but he found +that he was still much the same as before. Before leaving the College +he and the other students who were also departing received the +Sacrament of the Lord's Supper at Mass. This was to Etienne a very +solemn time. But, he says, as soon as he was out in the world again, +the remembrance of it faded away. He settled that he had no use for +religion in his life, and determined to live for pleasure and +happiness alone. 'I sought after happiness,' his diary says, 'in the +world's delights. I went in pursuit of it from one party of pleasure +to another; but I did _not_ find it, and I wondered that the name of +pleasure could be given to anything of that kind.' + +In his dissipated life after leaving College, he gave up saying his +prayers, and gradually he lost his belief that GOD WAS THERE. He read +unbelieving books, which said that God did not exist, and that the +Unseen world was only a delusion and a dream. For a time Etienne gave +himself up to doubt and denial as well as to dissipation. He was in +this restless state when the French Revolution broke out and caught +him, like a butterfly in a thunderstorm. New questions surged over +him. 'If there is a God after all, why should He allow these horrors +to happen?' But no answer came. Or perhaps he had forgotten how to +listen. + +'Towards the close of 1791,' he writes, 'I left my dear Father's +house, and bade him, as it proved, a lasting farewell, having never +seen him since.' At this time, Etienne accompanied his brothers and +many other nobles into Germany, to join the French Princes who were +endeavouring to bring about a counter-revolution and restore the king, +Louis XVI. + +On this dangerous journey the young men met with many narrow escapes. +Courage came naturally to Etienne. 'I was not the least moved,' he +writes in his diary, 'when surrounded by people and soldiers, who +lavished their abuses upon us, and threatened to hang me to the +lamp-post. I coolly stood by, my hands in my pockets, being provided +with three pairs of pistols, two of which were double-barrelled. I +concluded to wait to see what they would do, and resolved, after +destroying as many of them as I could, to take my own life with the +last.' + +Happily the necessity for extreme courses did not arise. He was, he +says, 'mercifully preserved,' and no violent hands were laid upon him, +though he and his companions suffered a short detention, after which +they succeeded in safely joining the French Princes and their +adherents at the city of Coblentz on the Rhine. Here Etienne spent the +following winter and spring surrounded, he tells us, by many +temptations. + +'I was fond of solitude,' continues the diary, 'and had many retired +walks through the woods and over the hills. I delighted to visit the +deserted hermitages, which formerly abounded on the Rhine. I envied +the situation of such hermits, retired from the world, and sheltered +from its many temptations; for I thought it impossible for me to live +a life of purity while continuing among my associates. I looked +forward wishfully to the time when I could thus retire; but I saw also +that, unless I could leave behind me my earthly-mindedness, my pride, +vanity, and every carnal propensity, an outward solitude could afford +me no shelter. + +'Our army entered into France the forepart of the summer of 1792, +accompanied by the Austrians and Prussians. I was in the King's Horse +Guards, which consisted mostly of the nobility. We endured great +hardships, for many weeks sleeping on the bare ground, in the open +air, and were sometimes in want of provisions. But that word _honour_ +so inflamed us, that I marvel how contentedly we bore our privations.' + +Towards the approach of winter, owing to various political changes, +the Princes' army was obliged to retire from France, and soon after +was disbanded. 'Etienne had been present at several engagements; he +had seen many falling about him, stricken by the shafts of death; he +had stood in battle array, facing the enemy ready for the conflict; +but, being in a reserve corps, he was preserved from actually shedding +blood, having never fought with the sword, or fired a gun.' + +In after years, he was thankful to remember that although he had been +perfectly willing to take life, he had never actually done so in his +soldier days. After the retreat of the French army, he and his +brothers set out for Amsterdam. On the way, however, they were made +prisoners of war, and condemned to be shot. 'The execution of the +sentence was each moment expected, when some sudden commotion in the +hostile army gave them an opportunity to make their escape.' Their +lives thus having been spared a second time they reached Holland in +safety. + +The young men were puzzled what to do next. They could not bear to +leave their beloved parents at distant Limoges, and yet it was +impossible to reach them or to help them in any way. France was a +dangerous place for people with a 'de' in their names in those days, +and for young men of military age most dangerous of all. Finally, +Etienne and his brother Joseph settled to go to South America. +'Through the kind assistance of a republican General, a friend of the +family, they obtained a passage on board a ship bound for Demerara, +where they arrived in the First month of 1793, after a voyage of about +forty days.' + +Unfortunately this long voyage had not taken them away from scenes of +violence. The Revolution in France was terrible, but the horrors of +slavery in South America were, if possible, even worse. The New World +seemed no less full of tragedy than the Old. Etienne saw there +husbands and wives, parents and children, brothers and sisters torn +apart, most cruelly beaten, often sold like cattle to tyrannical +masters, never to see each other's faces again. + +Amid such scenes Etienne grew more than ever full of despairing +thoughts, more than ever inclined to believe that there could not be a +God ruling a world where these evils were allowed to go unpunished. + +'Such was the impression made upon Etienne by the scenes of cruelty +and anguish he witnessed, that, many years after, the sound of a whip +in the street would chill his blood, in the remembrance of the agony +of the poor slaves; and he felt convinced that there was no excess of +wickedness and malice which a slave-holder, or driver, might not be +guilty of.' + +Etienne and Joseph stayed in Demerara for more than two years. In the +spring of 1795 they left South America and settled in Long Island near +New York. There, they made friends with a certain Colonel Corsa, a man +who had served in the British army, and who had a daughter who spoke +French. As the two brothers at this time knew no English it was a +great cheer to them in their loneliness to be able to visit at this +hospitable house. One day Colonel Corsa happened to speak of William +Penn. Etienne had already heard of the Quaker statesman, George Fox's +friend, and when the young girl said she possessed Penn's writings +Etienne asked to borrow them. He took back to his lodgings with him a +large folio book, intending, with the help of a dictionary, to +translate it in order to improve his English. Great was his +disappointment when he found that the book contained nothing about +politics or statesmanship. It was about religion; and at this time +Etienne thought that religion was all a humbug and delusion. +Therefore he shut up the book and put it away, though he did not +return it to its owner. One evening, about this time, as he was +walking in the fields alone, suddenly the Voice he had heard in his +childhood spoke to him once more, close by and terribly clear: +'ETERNITY, ETERNITY, ETERNITY.' These three words, he says, 'reached +my very soul,--my whole man shook,--it brought me, like Saul, to the +ground.' The sinfulness and carelessness of his last few years passed +before him. He cried out, 'If there is no God, doubtless there is a +hell.' + +His soul was almost in hell already, for hell is despair, and Etienne +was very nearly despairing at that moment. Only one way out remained, +the way of prayer, the little mossy pathway that he used to tread when +he was a child, but that he had not trodden, now, for many years. +Tangled, mossy, and overgrown that path was now, but it still led out +from the dark wood of life where Etienne had almost lost his way and +his hope. + +Etienne took that way. With his whole heart he prayed for mercy and +for deliverance from the sin and horror that oppressed him. When no +answer came at once he did not stop praying, but continued day and +night, praying, praying for mercy. Perhaps he scarcely knew to whom +his prayer was addressed; but it was none the less a real prayer. + +He expected that the answer to it would come in some startling form +that he could recognise the first minute and say: 'There! Now God is +answering my prayer!' + +Instead, the answer came far more simply than he had expected. God +often seems to choose to answer prayers in such a gentle, natural +fashion, that His children need to watch very carefully lest they take +His most radiant messengers, His most wonderful messages, almost as a +matter of course. Only if they recognise God's Love in all that comes, +planning how things shall happen, they can see His hand arranging even +the tiniest details of their lives, fitting them all in, and making +things work out right. Then they understand how truly wonderful His +answers are. + +The answer to Etienne's prayer came through nothing more extraordinary +than that same old folio book which he had borrowed from his friend +Miss Corsa, and had put away, thinking it too dull to translate. He +took it out again, and opened upon a part called 'No Cross, No Crown.' +'I proceeded,' he says, 'to read it with the help of my dictionary, +having to look for the meaning of nearly every word.' + +When he had finished, he read it straight through again. 'I had never +met with anything of the kind before,' and all the time he was reading +the Voice inside his heart kept on saying, 'Yes, Yes, Yes, that is +true!' + +'I now withdrew from company, and spent most of my time in retirement, +and in silent waiting upon God. I began to read the Bible, with the +aid of my dictionary, for I had none then in French. I was much of a +stranger to the inspired records. I had not even seen them before that +I remember; what I had heard of any part of their contents, was only +detached portions in Prayer Books. + +'Whilst the fallow ground of my heart was thus preparing, my brother +and myself, being one day at Colonel Corsa's, heard that a Meeting was +appointed to be held next day in the Friends' Meeting-house, by two +Englishwomen, to which we were invited. The Friends were Deborah Darby +and Rebecca Young. The sight of them brought solemn feelings over me; +but I soon forgot all things around me; for, in an inward silent frame +of mind, seeking for the Divine presence, I was favoured to find _in_ +me, what I had so long, and with so many tears, sought for _without_ +me. My brother, who sat beside me, and to whom the silence, in which +the forepart of the meeting was held, was irksome, repeatedly +whispered to me, "Let us go away." But I felt the Lord's power in such +a manner, that a secret joy filled me, in that I had found Him after +whom my soul had longed. I was as one nailed to my seat. Shortly +after, one or two men Friends in the ministry spoke, but I could +understand very little of what they said. After them Deborah Darby and +Rebecca Young spoke also; but I was so gathered in the temple of my +heart before God, that I was wholly absorbed with what was passing +there. Thus had the Lord opened my heart to seek Him where He is to be +found. + +'My brother and myself were invited to dine in the company of these +Friends, at Colonel Corsa's. There was a religious opportunity after +dinner, in which several communications were made. I could hardly +understand a word of what was said, but, as Deborah Darby began to +address my brother and myself, it seemed as if the Lord opened my +outward ear, and my heart. She seemed like one reading the pages of my +heart, with clearness describing how it had been, and how it was with +me. O what sweetness did I then feel! It was indeed a memorable day. I +was like one introduced into a new world; the creation, and all +things around me, bore a different aspect, my heart glowed with love +to all.... O how can the extent of the Lord's love, mercy, pity, and +tender compassion be fathomed!' + +After the visit of the two Friends had made this change in his life +Etienne decided to give up his French name and title, and to be no +longer Etienne de Grellet, the French nobleman, but plain Stephen +Grellet, the teacher of languages. Later on, he was to become Stephen +Grellet the Quaker preacher; but the time for that had not yet come. +After Deborah Darby's visit he went regularly to the Friends' Meetings +in Long Island, but they were held for the most part in complete +silence, and sad to say not one of the Friends ever spoke to him +afterwards. He missed their friendliness all the more because the +people he was lodging with could not bear his attending Quaker +Meetings, and tried to make him give up going to such unfashionable +assemblies. His brother, Joseph, also could not understand what had +come to him, and both Joseph and the lodging-house people teased poor +Stephen about his Quaker leanings, till he, who had been brave enough +when his life was in danger, was a coward before their mockery. He did +not want to give up going to his dear Meeting, but he hated to be +ridiculed. At first he tried to give up Meeting, but this disobedience +gave him, he says, 'a feeling of misery.' When the next Sunday came he +tried another plan. He went to the Meeting-house by roundabout ways +'through fields and over fences, ashamed to be seen by any one on the +road.' When he reached the Meeting-house by these by-lanes, the door +was closed. No Meeting was to be held there that day. The Friends +happened to have gone to another place. Stephen, therefore, sat down, +'in a retired place and in a very tried state,' to think the whole +question over again, with much humility. He decided that henceforth, +come what might, he would not be a coward; and he kept his resolution. +The next Sunday he went to Meeting 'though it rained hard and I had +about three miles to walk.' Henceforward he attended Meeting +regularly, and at last his brother ceased reproaching him for his +Quakerism, and one Sunday he actually came to Meeting too. This time +Joseph also enjoyed the silence and followed the worship. 'From that +time he attended meetings diligently, and was a great comfort to me. +But, during all that period,' Stephen continues, 'we had no +intercourse with any of the members of the religious Society of +Friends.' These Friends still took no notice of the two strangers. +They seem to have been Friends only in name. + +About this time bad news came from France. 'My dear mother wrote to me +that the granaries we had at our country seat had been secured by the +revolutionary party, as well as every article of food in our town +house. My mother and my younger brother were only allowed the scanty +pittance of a peck of mouldy horse-beans per week. My dear father was +shut up in prison, with an equally scanty allowance. But it was before +I was acquainted with the sufferings of my beloved parents, that the +consideration of the general scarcity prevailing in the country led me +to think how wrong it was for me to wear powder on my head, the ground +of which I knew to be pride.' He gave up powder from this time. It +would not be much of a sacrifice nowadays, but it was a very real one +then, when powder was supposed to be the distinguishing mark of a +gentleman. The two brothers were now obliged to learn to support +themselves. All their estates in France had been seized. 'Our means +began to be low, and yet our feelings for the sufferings in which our +beloved parents might be involved, caused us to forget ourselves, +strangers in a strange country, and to forward them a few hundred +dollars we had yet left.' + +It was no easy matter to find employment. The brothers went on to New +York, and there at last the Friends were kind: Friends in deed and not +in name only. They found a situation for Joseph in New York itself, +and arranged for Stephen to go to Philadelphia, where he was more +likely to find work. + +And at Philadelphia the Friends were, if possible, even kinder to him +than the Friends at New York. They were spiritual fathers and mothers +to him, he says, and seemed to know exactly what he was feeling. 'They +had but little to say in words, but I often felt that my spirit was +refreshed and strengthened in their company.' At Philadelphia, he had +many offers of tempting employment, but he decided to continue as a +teacher of languages in a school. He gave his whole mind to his school +work while he was at it, and out of school hours wandered about +entirely care free. But although he was a teacher of languages and +although the English of his Journals is scrupulously careful, it has +often a slight foreign stiffness and formality. He was often afraid in +his early years of making mistakes and not speaking quite correctly. +There is a story that long afterwards, when he was in England and was +taking his leave of some schoolgirls, he wished to say to them that +he hoped they might be preserved safely. But in the agitation of his +departure he chose the wrong words. His parting injunction, therefore, +never faded from the girls' memory: 'My dear young Friends, may the +Lord _pickle_ you, His dear little _muttons_.' + +If, even as an old man, Stephen was liable to fall into such pitfalls +as this, it is easy to understand that in his earlier years the fear +of making mistakes must have been a real terror to him, especially +when he thought of speaking in Meeting. Very soon after he became a +Friend he felt, with great dread, that the beautiful, comforting +messages that refreshed his own soul were meant to be shared with +others. Months, if not years, of struggle followed, before he could +rise in his place in Meeting and obey this inward prompting. But +directly he did so, his fears of making a mistake, or being laughed +at, vanished utterly away. After agony, came joy. 'The Lord shewed me +how He is mouth, wisdom and utterance to His true and faithful +ministers; that it is from Him alone that they are to communicate to +the people, and also the _when_ and the _how_.' At that first Meeting, +after Stephen had given his message and sat down again, several +Friends, whose blessing he specially valued, also spoke and said how +thankful they were for his words. Among those present that day was +that same William Savery, who, in the last story, had a bundle of +valuable hides stolen from his tanyard, and punished the thief, when +he came to return the hides, by loading him with kindness and giving +him a good situation. + +Certainly William Savery would not tell the story of 'the man who was +not John Smith' to Stephen Grellet on that particular day; for +Stephen was so filled with the thankful wonder that follows obedience, +that he had no thought for outside things. 'For some days after this +act of dedication,' he says, 'my peace flowed as a river.' In the +autumn of this year (1796), Stephen Grellet, the French nobleman, +became a Friend. About two years later, he was acknowledged as a +Minister by the Society. + +'In those days,' he writes, 'my mind dwelt much on the nature of the +hope of redemption through Jesus Christ.... I felt that the best +testimony I could bear was to evince by my life what He had actually +done for me.' + +Henceforth Stephen's life was spent in trying to make known to others +the joy that had overflowed his own soul. He did indeed 'put the +things that he had learned in practice,' as he journeyed over both +Europe and America, time after time, visiting high and low. His life +is one long record of adventures, of perils surmounted, of hairbreadth +escapes, of constant toil and of much plodding, humdrum service too. +His message brought him into the strangest situations, as he gave it +fearlessly. He sought an interview with the Pope at Rome in order to +remonstrate with him about the state of the prisons in the Papal +States. Stephen gave his message with perfect candour, and afterwards +entered into conversation with the Pope. Finally, he says, 'As I felt +the love of Christ flowing in my heart towards him, I particularly +addressed him.... The Pope ... kept his head inclined and appeared +tender, while I thus addressed him; then rising from his seat, in a +kind and respectful manner, he expressed his desire that "the Lord +would bless and protect me wherever I went," on which I left him.' + +Not satisfied with that, though it seems wonderful enough, Stephen +another time induced the Czar of all the Russias, Alexander I., to +attend Westminster Meeting. Both these stories are well worth telling. +But there is one story about Stephen, better worth telling still, and +that is how the Voice that guided him all over the world sent him one +day 'preaching to nobody' in a lonely forest clearing in the far +backwoods of America. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[41] 'From my earliest days,' he writes, 'there was that in me that +would not allow me implicitly to believe the various doctrines I was +taught.' + + + + +XXXII. PREACHING TO NOBODY + + + + + _'All the artillery in the world, + were they all discharged together + at one clap, could not more deaf + the ears of our bodies than the + clamourings of desires in the soul + deaf its ears, so you see a man + must go into silence or else he + cannot hear God speak.'_--JOHN + EVERARD. 1650. + + + _'God forces none, for love cannot + compel, and God's service is + therefore a thing of complete + freedom.... The thing which + hinders and has always hindered is + that our wills are different from + God's will. God never seeks + Himself, in His willing--we do. + There is no other way to + blessedness than to lose one's + self will'_--HANS DENCK. 1526. + + + _'The inward command is never + wanting in the due season to any + duty.'_--R. BARCLAY. 1678. + + + _'I think I can reverently say + that I very much doubt whether, + since the Lord by His grace + brought me into the faith of His + dear Son, I have ever broken bread + or drunk wine, even in the + ordinary course of life, without + the remembrance of, and some + devout feeling regarding the + broken body and the blood-shedding + of my dear Lord and + Saviour.'_--STEPHEN GRELLET. + + + _'One loving spirit sets another + on fire.'_--AUGUSTINE. + + + + +XXXII. PREACHING TO NOBODY + + +Stephen Grellet, after much waiting on the Lord to shew him His will, +was directed by the Spirit to take a long journey into the backwoods +of America, and preach the Gospel to some woodcutters who were felling +forest timber.'[42] + +At first Stephen did not know which was the wood he was meant to +visit, having travelled through hundreds of miles of forests on his +journey. So he waited very quietly, his heart as still as a clear +lake, ready to reflect anything God might show him. + +Suddenly a picture came. He remembered a lonely forest clearing, far +away. Workmen's huts were dotted about here and there, and a big +wooden building rose in the midst of the clearing. All around were +woodcutters, some busy sawing timber, some marking the tall forest +trees, others carting huge logs and piling them at a little distance. +Stephen now remembered the place well. He remembered, too, the +workmen's rough faces, and the wild shouts that filled the air as he +had passed by on horseback. He had noticed a faint film of blue smoke +curling up from the large building, and he had supposed that that must +be the dining-shanty where the workmen's food was prepared and where +they had their meals. He remembered having thought to himself, 'A +lonely life and a wild one!' But the place had not made a deep +impression on his mind, and he had forgotten it as he journeyed, in +the joy of getting nearer home. Now, suddenly, that forest clearing, +with the huts and the dining-shanty and the busy woodmen all round, +came back to him as vividly as a picture in a magic-lantern view, +while a Voice said, distinctly but very gently in his own heart, so +that only he could hear, 'GO BACK THERE AND PREACH TO THOSE LONELY +MEN.' + +Stephen knew quite well Whose Voice it was that was speaking to him, +for he had loved and followed that Voice for many years. Obedience was +easy now. He said at once, 'Yes, I will go;' and saying good-bye to +his wife, he left his home, and set forth again into the forest. As he +journeyed, a flood of happiness came over his soul. The long ride +through the lonely woods, day after day, no longer seemed tedious. He +was absolutely alone, but he never felt the least bit lonely. It was +as if Someone were journeying with him all the way, the invisible +Friend whose Voice he knew and loved and obeyed. + +When at length he drew near the clearing in the forest, he both +trembled and rejoiced, at the thought of soon being able to deliver +his message to the woodmen. Coming yet nearer, however, he no longer +saw any blue smoke curling up in a thin spiral between the straight +stems of the forest trees. Neither did he hear any sound of saws +sawing timber, or the men shouting to their horses. The whole place +was silent and deserted. When he reached the clearing, nobody was +there. Even the huts had gone. He would have thought he had mistaken +the place if the dining-shanty had not been there, by the edge of a +little trickling stream, just as he remembered it. + +Nowhere was there a living soul to be seen. Evidently all the woodmen +had gone away deeper into the forest to find fresh timber, for the +clearing was much larger and many more trees had been cut down than +on Stephen's first visit. The neglected look of the one big wooden hut +that remained showed that the men had not used it for many days. Weeks +might pass before any of the woodcutters returned. + +What was Stephen to do? He had no idea in which direction the woodmen +had departed. It was hopeless to think of tracking them further +through the lonely forest glades. Had the Voice made a mistake? Could +he have misunderstood the command? Was the whole expedition a failure? +Must he return home with his message still undelivered? His heart +burned within him at the thought, and he said, half aloud, 'No, no, +no!' + +There was only one way out of the difficulty, the same way that had +helped him to learn his Latin lesson years ago when he was a little +boy. But it was no tiny mossy track now, it was a broad, well-marked +road travelled daily, hourly, through long years,--this Prayer way +that led his soul to God. Tying up his horse to the nearest tree, +Stephen knelt down on the carpet of red-brown pine-needles, and put up +a wordless prayer for guidance and help. Then he began to listen. + +Through the windless silence of the forest spaces the Voice came again +more clearly than ever, saying: 'GIVE YOUR MESSAGE. IT IS NOT YOURS +BUT MINE.' Stephen hesitated no longer. He went straight into the +dining-shanty. He strode past the bare empty tables, under which the +long grass and flowers were already growing thick and tall. He went +straight up to the end of the room, and there, standing on a form, as +if the place had been filled with one or two hundred eager listeners, +although no single human being was to be seen, he PREACHED, as he had +never yet preached in his life. The Love of God, the 'Love that will +not let us go,' seemed to him the most real thing in the whole world. +All his life he had longed to find an anchor for his soul. Now that he +had found it, he must help others to find it too. Why doesn't everyone +find it? Ah! there he began to speak of sin; how sin builds up a wall +between our hearts and God; how, in Jesus Christ, that wall has been +thrown down once for all, and now there is nothing to keep us apart +except our own blindness and pride; and how if we will only turn round +and open our hearts to Him, He is longing to come in and dwell with +us. + +As Stephen went on, he pleaded yet more earnestly. He thought of the +absent woodcutters. He felt that he loved every single one of those +wild, rough men; and if he loved them, he, a stranger, how much more +dear must they be to their heavenly Father. 'Grant me to win each +single soul for Thee, O Lord,' he pleaded, 'each single soul for +Thee.' + +Where were they all now, these men to whom he had come to speak? He +could not find them. But God could. God was their shepherd. Even if +His messenger failed, the Good Shepherd would seek on until He found +each single wandering soul that He loved. 'And when the shepherd +findeth the lost sheep, after leaving the ninety and nine in the +wilderness, how does he bring it home? Does he whip it? Does he +threaten it? No such thing! he carries it on his shoulder and deals +most tenderly with the poor, weary, wandering one.' + +While he was speaking he thought of the absent woodcutters with an +evergrowing desire to help them. He thought of the hard lives they +were forced to lead, of the temptations they must meet with daily, and +of the lack of all outward help towards a better life. As he repeated +the words again, 'Grant me, O Lord, to win these lost sheep of Thine +back to Thee and to Thy service; help me to win each single soul for +Thee,' he felt as if, somehow, his voice, his prayer, must reach the +men he sought, even though hundreds of miles of desolate forest lay +between. Towards the end of his sermon, the tears ran down his cheeks. +At last, utterly exhausted by the strength of his desire he sat down +once more, and, throwing his arms on the rough board before him, he +hid his face in his hands. + +A long time passed; the silence grew ever more intense. At last +Stephen lifted his head. He felt as tired as if he had gone a long +journey since he entered the wooden building. Yet it was all exactly +the same as when he had come in an hour before,--the rows of empty +forms and the bare tables, with grass and flowers growing up between +them. Stephen's eyes wandered out through the open door. He noticed a +thick mug of earthenware lying beside the path outside, evidently left +behind by the woodcutters as not worth taking with them. A common +earthenware mug it was, of coarse material and ugly shape; and +cracked. As Stephen's eyes fell upon it, he felt as if he hated that +mug more than he had ever before hated anything in his life. It seemed +to have been left behind there, on purpose to mock him. Here he was +with only an earthenware mug in sight, he who might have been +surrounded by the exquisite and delicate porcelain that he remembered +in his father's factory at Limoges. All that beauty and luxury +belonged to him by right; they might still have been his, if only he +had not listened for years to the Voice. And now the Voice had led him +on this fool's errand. Here he was, preaching to nobody, and looking +at a cracked mug. Was his whole life a mistake? a delusion? 'Am I a +fool after all?' he asked himself bitterly. + +He was in the sad, bitter mood that is called 'Reaction.' Strangely +enough, it often seizes people just when they have done some +particularly difficult piece of work for their Master. Perhaps it +comes to keep them from thinking that they can finish anything in +their own strength alone. + +Stephen was in the grip of this mood now. Happily he had wrestled with +the same sort of temptation many times before. He knew it of old; he +knew, too, that the best way to meet it is to face this giant Reaction +boldly, as Christian faced Apollyon, to wrestle with it and so to +overcome. He went straight out of the door to where the mug was lying, +and took up that mug, that cracked mug, in his hands, more reverently +than if it had been a vase of the most precious and fragile porcelain. +He took it up, and accepted it, this thing he hated worst of all. If +life had led him only to a cracked mug, at least he would accept that +mug and use it as best he could. Carrying it in his hands, he walked +to the little stream whose gentle murmur came through the tall grasses +close at hand. There he knelt down, cleansed the mug carefully, filled +it with water, and putting it to his lips, he drank a long refreshing +draught. In his pocket he found a crust of bread. He took it out, +broke it in two pieces, and then drank again. Only a piece of dry +bread! Only a drink of cold water in a cracked cup! No meal could be +simpler. Yet Stephen ate and drank with a kind of awe, enfolded in a +sustaining, life-giving Presence. He knew that he was not alone; he +knew that Another was with him, feeding and refreshing his inmost +soul, as he drank of the clear, cold water and ate the broken bread. + +A wonderful peace and gladness fell upon his spirit as he knelt in the +sunny air. The silence of the great forest was itself a song of +praise. He rode homewards like a man in a dream. Day after day as he +journeyed, the brooding peace grew and deepened. Even the forest +pathways looked different as he travelled through them on his homeward +way. They had been full of trustful obedience before. They were filled +with thankfulness now. But the deepest thankfulness was in Stephen's +own heart. + + * * * * * + +Is that the end of the story? For many years that was the end. Stephen +never forgot his mysterious journey into the backwoods. He often +wondered why the Voice had sent him there. Nevertheless he knew, for +certain and past all doubting, that he had done right to go. Perhaps +gradually the memory faded a little and became dim.... + + * * * * * + +Anyway nothing was further from his thoughts than the lonely backwoods +of America one afternoon, years after, when on one of his journeys in +Europe his business led him across London Bridge. The Bridge was +crowded with traffic. Everyone was bustling to and fro, intent on his +own business or pleasure. Not many people had leisure to notice one +slight figure distinguished by a foreign air of courtliness and grace, +in spite of the stiff, severe lines of its Quaker hat and coat. Not +many people, even if they had noticed the earnest face under the +broad-brimmed hat, would have stopped to gaze a second time upon it +that busy afternoon. Not many people. But one man did. + +As Stephen was hastening across the crowded Bridge, suddenly he felt +himself seized roughly by the shoulders, and he heard a gruff voice +exclaiming: 'There you are! I have found you at last, have I?' + +Deep down inside Stephen Grellet, the Quaker preacher, there still +remained a few traces of the fastidious French noble, Etienne de +Grellet. The traces had been buried deep down by this time, but there +they still were. They leapt suddenly to light, that busy afternoon on +London Bridge. Neither French nobleman nor Quaker preacher liked to be +seized in such unceremonious fashion. 'Friend,' he remonstrated, +drawing himself gently away, 'I think that thou art mistaken.' + +'No, I am not,' rejoined the other, his grip tighter than ever. 'When +you have sought a man over the face of the globe year after year, you +don't make a mistake when you find him at last. Not you! Not me +either! I'm not mistaken, and I don't let you go now I've found you +after all these years, with your same little dapper, black, cut-away +coat, that I thought so queer; and your broad-brimmed hat that I well +remember. Never heard a man preach with his hat on before!' + +'Hast thou heard me preach, Friend? Why then didst thou not speak to +me afterwards if thou wished?' + +'But I didn't wish!' answered the stranger, 'nothing I wished for +less!' + +'Where was it?' enquired Stephen. + +'Why, I heard you preaching to nobody, years and years ago,' the man +returned. 'At least you supposed you were preaching to nobody. Really, +you were preaching to me. Cut me to the heart you did too, I can tell +you.' + +A dawning light of comprehension came into Stephen's face as the other +went on: 'Didn't you preach in a deserted dining-shanty in the +backwoods of America near----' (and he named the place), 'on such a +day and in such a year?' + +He asked these questions in a loud voice, regardless of the astonished +looks of the passers-by, still holding tight to the edge of Stephen's +coat with one hand, and shaking the forefinger of the other in +Stephen's face as he spoke, to emphasize each word. + +By this time all traces of Etienne, the fastidious French nobleman, +had utterly disappeared. Stephen Grellet, the minister of Christ, was +alive now to the tips of his fingers. His whole soul was in his eyes +as he gazed at his questioner. Was that old, old riddle going to find +its answer at last? + +'Wast thou there?' he enquired breathlessly. 'Impossible! I must have +seen thee!' + +'I was there, right enough,' answered the man. 'But you did not see +me, because I took very good care that you should not. At first I +thought you were a lunatic, preaching to a lot of forms and tables +like that, and better left alone. Then, afterwards, I wouldn't let +you see me, for fear you should see also that your words had gone in +deeper than I cared to show. I was the ganger of the woodmen,' he +continued, taking Stephen's arm in his and compelling the little +Quaker to walk beside him as he talked. 'It all happened in this way. +We had moved forth into the forest, and were putting up more shanties +to live in, when I discovered that I had left my lever at the old +settlement. So, after setting my men to work, I came back alone for my +instrument. As I approached the old place, I heard a voice. Trembling +and agitated, I drew near, I saw you through the chinks of the timber +walls of our dining-shanty, I listened to you; and as I listened, your +words went through a chink in my heart too, though its walls were +thicker than those of any dining-shanty. I was determined you should +not see me. I crept away and went back to my men. The arrow stuck +fast. I was miserable for many weeks. I had no Bible, no book of any +kind, not a creature to ask about better things.' + +'Poor sheep! Poor lost sheep!' Stephen murmured gently; 'I knew it; I +knew it! The Good Shepherd knew it too!' + +'We were a rough lot in those days,' continued the other, 'worse than +rough, bad; worse than bad, wicked. There wasn't much about sin that +we didn't know among us, didn't enjoy too, after a fashion. That was +why your sermon made me so miserable. Seemed to know just all about +the lot of us, you did. After it, for weeks I went on getting more and +more wretched. There seemed nothing to do, me not being able to find +you, but to try and get hold of the book that had put you up to it. +None of us had such a thing, of course. It was a long time before I +could lay hands on one. Me and a Bible! How the men laughed! But they +stopped laughing before I had done with them. I read and read till I +found what you had said about the Good Shepherd and the lost +sheep--'and God so loved the world,' and at last--eternal life. And +then I wasn't going to keep that to myself. It's share and share alike +out in the backwoods, I can tell you. I told my men all about it, just +like you. I never let 'em alone, I gave them no peace till they were +one and all brought home to God--every single one! I heard you asking +Him: "Every single soul for Thy service, every single soul for Thee, O +Lord." That was what you asked Him for,--that, and more than that, He +gave. It's always the way! When the Lord begins to answer, He does +answer! Every single one of those men was brought home to Him. But it +didn't stop there. Three of them became missionaries, to go and bring +others back to the fold in their turn. I tell you the solemn truth. +Already one thousand lost sheep, if not more, have been brought home +to the Good Shepherd through that sermon of yours, that day in the +backwoods, when you thought you were + + PREACHING TO NOBODY!' + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[42] _The American Friend_, 28th November 1895. + + + + +COME-TO-GOOD + + + + + _'Flowers are the little faces of + God.'--(A saying of some little + children.)_ + + + _'To the soul that feeds on the + bread of life the outward + conventions of religion are no + longer needful. Hid with Christ in + God there is for him small place + for outward rites, for all + experience is a holy baptism, a + perpetual supper with the Lord, + and all life a sacrifice holy and + acceptable unto God._ + + _'This hidden life, this inward + vision, this immediate and intimate + union between the soul and God, + this, as revealed in Jesus Christ, + is the basis of the Quaker + faith.'_--J.W. ROWNTREE. + + + _'Here the pure mind is known, and + the pure God is waited upon for + wisdom from above; and the peace, + which hath no end, is enjoyed.... + And the Light of God that calls + your minds out of the creatures, + turns them to God, to an endless + being, joy and peace: here is a + seeing God always present.... So + fare you well! And God Almighty + bless, guide and keep you all in + His wisdom.'_--GEORGE FOX. + + + + +COME-TO-GOOD + + +_One more Meeting-house to visit; the last and the smallest of all. A +Meeting-house with no story, except the story in its name. +'"Come-to-Good!"' boys and girls from other counties will exclaim +perhaps, 'whoever heard of such a place? Why did people not call it +"Come-to-Harm," or "Ne'er-do-Weel," while they were about it?'_ + +_Cornish boys and girls know better. They will explain that in their +far Western corner of England there has always been an idea, and a +very good idea it is, that a name should really describe the place to +which it belongs, and should tell the hearer something about its +character. Thus it comes to pass that on one tidal river a certain +creek, covered with salt sea-water at high tide, but showing only an +expanse of muddy flats at low water, is called 'Cockles' Peep Out.' +Another creek, near by, is known as 'Frenchman's Pill,' because some +French prisoners were sent there for safety during the Napoleonic +Wars. Then, too, a busy sea-port was once called 'Penny Come Quick,' +with good reason; and another out-of-the-way place 'Hard to Come By,' +which explains itself. Most romantic of all, the valley where King +Charles's army lost a battle long ago is still known as 'Fine and +Brave.' There, the country people say, headless ghosts of defeated +Cavaliers may still be seen on moonlight nights riding up and down, +carrying their own plumed-hatted heads under their arms. All over the +county these story places are to be found. The more odd a Cornish name +sounds at the first hearing, the more apt it will often prove, when +the reason for it is understood._ + +_Thus it is not strange that a lonely, shut-in valley, folded away +between two steep hills, should be known as 'Come-to-Good,' since, for +more than two centuries, men and women, and little children also, have +'Come to Good' in that remote and hidden place. There, surrounded by +sheltering trees, stands the little old Meeting-house. Its high +thatched roof projects, like a bushy eyebrow, over the low white walls +and thick white buttresses, shading the three narrow casement windows +of pale-green glass with their diamond lattice panes. The windows are +almost hidden by the roof; the roof is almost hidden by the trees; and +the trees are almost hidden by the hills that rise above them. +Therefore the pilgrim always comes upon the Meeting-house with a +certain sense of surprise, so carefully is it concealed;--like a most +secret and precious thought._ + +_The bare Cornish uplands and wide moors have a trick of hiding away +these rich, fertile valleys, that have given rise to the proverb: +'Cornwall is a lady, whose beauty is seen in her wrinkles.' Yet, +hidden away as it is, 'Come-to-Good' has drawn people to it for +centuries. In all the country round, for generations past, one Sunday +in August has been known as 'Come-to-Good Sunday,' because, on that +day, the Friends assemble from three or four distant towns to hold +their meeting there. And not the Friends only. No bell has ever broken +the stillness of that peaceful valley, yet for miles round, on a +'Meeting Sunday,' the lanes are full of small groups of people: +parents and children; farm lads and lasses; thoughtful-faced men, who +admit that 'they never go anywhere else'; shy lovers lingering behind, +or whole families walking together. All are to be seen on their way to +refresh their souls with the hour of quiet worship in the snowy white +Meeting-house under its thatched roof._ + + * * * * * + +_Many years ago, little Lois (whom you read about at the beginning of +this book) was taken to Come-to-Good for the first time on such a +Sunday, by her Grandmother. Even now, whenever she goes there, she +still seems to see that dear Grandmother's tall, erect figure, in its +flowing black silk mantle and Quaker bonnet, walking with stately +steps up the path in front; or stooping for once--she who never +stooped!--to enter the little low door. People who did not know her +well, and even some who did, occasionally felt Lois' 'dear +Grandmamma' rather a formidable old lady. They said she was 'severe' +and 'alarmingly dignified,' and 'she says straight out just exactly +what she thinks.' Certainly, she was not one of the spoiling, +indulgent, eiderdown-silk-cushion kind of Grannies that some children +have now; but Lois loved her with all her heart and was never really +afraid of her. What stories she could tell! What wonderful stockings +full of treasures Santa Claus brought down her chimneys on Christmas +Eve to the happy grandchild staying with her! Lois loved to sit beside +her 'dear Grandmamma,' and to watch her in her corner by the fire, +upright as ever, knitting. Even on the long drive to Come-to-Good, the +feeling of her smooth, calm hand had soothed the restless little +fingers held in it so firmly and gently. The drive over, Lois wondered +what would happen to her in the strange Meeting-house when she might +not sit by that dear Grandmother's side any longer, since she, of +course, would have to be up in the Ministers' gallery, with all the +other 'Weighty Friends.' But, at Come-to-Good, things always turn out +right. Lois found, to her delight, that she and the other boys and +girls were to be allowed to creep, very quietly, up the twisty wooden +stairs at the far end of the Meeting-house, and to make their way up +into the 'loft' where four or five low forms had been specially placed +for them. Lois loved to find herself sitting there. She felt like a +little white pigeon, high up on a perch, able to see over the heads of +all the people below, and able even to look down on the grave faces of +the Ministers opposite. The row of broad-brimmed hats and coal-scuttle +bonnets looked entirely different and much more attractive, seen from +above, than when she looked up at them in Meeting at home. Then, when +some one rose to speak, Lois liked to watch the ripple that passed +over the heads beneath her, as all the faces turned towards the +speaker. Or when everybody, moved by the same impulse, stood up during +a prayer or sat down at its close, it was as fascinating to watch them +gently rise and gently sit down again as it was to watch the wind +sweep over the sea, curling it up into waves or wavelets, or the +breeze rippling over a broad field of blue-green June barley. Lois +never remembered the time when she was too small to enjoy those two +sights. 'I do like watching something I can't see, moving something I +can!' she used to think. To watch a Meeting, from the loft at +Come-to-Good, was rather like that, she felt; though years had to pass +before she found out the reason why._ + +_Out of doors, when the quiet hour of worship was over, other delights +were waiting. The small old white Meeting-house is surrounded by a yet +older, small green burial-ground, where long grasses, and flowers +innumerable, cover the gentle slopes. The soft mounds cluster closely +around the walls; as if those who were laid there had wished that +their bodies might rest as near as possible to the house of peace +where their spirits had rested while on earth._ + +_Further off the mounds are fewer; the grassy spaces between them grow +wider; till it becomes difficult to tell which are graves and which +are just grassy hillocks. Further still, the old burial-ground dips +down, and loses itself entirely, and becomes first a wood, then +frankly an orchard that fills up the bottom of the valley, through +which a clear brown stream goes wandering._ + +_Yet, midway on the hilly slope above, half hidden gravestones can +still be discerned, among the grass and flowers; shining through them, +like a smile that was once a sorrow. Small, grey, perfectly plain +stones they are, all exactly alike, as is the custom in Friends' +graveyards, where to be allowed a headstone at all, was, at one time, +considered 'rather gay'! Each stone bears nothing but a name upon it +and sometimes a date. 'Honor Magor' is the name carved on one of the +oldest stooping stones, and under it a date nearly 100 years old. That +is all. Lois used to wonder who Honor Magor was,--an old woman? a +young one? or possibly even a little girl? Where did she live when she +was alive? how did she come to be buried there? But there are no +answers to any of these questions; and there is no need to know more +than that the tired body of Honor Magor has been resting peacefully +for nearly a century, hidden under the tangle of waving grasses and +ever-changing flowers at Come-to-Good._ + +_Ever-changing flowers? Yes; because the changing of the seasons is +more marked there than at other places. For Come-to-Good lies so many +miles from any town, the tide of life has ebbed away so far from this +quiet pool, that, for a long time past, Meetings have only been held +here four times in the year. Summer, Autumn, Winter, and Spring,--each +season brings its own Sunday. Then, and for a week or two beforehand, +the topmost bar of every wooden gate in the neighbourhood bears a +modest piece of white paper announcing that 'a Friends' Meeting will +be held at Come-to-Good on the following First Day morning, at eleven +o'clock, when the company of any who are inclined to attend will be +acceptable.'_ + +_August Sunday brings deep, red roses tossing themselves up, like a +crimson fountain, against the grey thatched roof. November Sunday has +its own treasures: sweet, late blackberries, crimson and golden +leaves, perhaps even a few late hazel nuts and acorns still hiding +down in the wood. In February, the first gummy stars of the celandine +are to be seen peeping out from under the hedge, while a demure little +procession of white and green snowdrops walks primly up the narrow +path to Meeting. The 'Fair Maids of February' seem to have an especial +love for this quiet spot._ + +_But in May--ah! May is the best Sunday of all. In May not only is the +whole valley knee-deep in grass and ferns and flowers and bluebells. +There is something still better! In May the burial-ground is all +singing and tinkling silently with fairy spires of columbines. Garden +flowers in most other places, they are quite wild here. Purple and +deep-blue and pale-pink columbines are growing up everywhere; each +flower with its own little pairs of twin turtle-doves hidden away +inside. Even white columbine, rarest of all, has been found in that +magic valley. I am afraid Lois thought longingly, all through the +silence on a May Sunday, of the nosegay of columbines she meant to +gather afterwards. Directly Meeting was over, the children pelted down +very fast from the loft. Numbers of little feet flew across the sunlit +grass, while the elder Friends were walking sedately down the path to +the gate._ + + _'O Columbine, open your folded wrapper, + Where two twin turtle-doves dwell,'_ + +_chanted the children as they frolicked about, forgetting that they +had been stiff with sitting so long in Meeting, as they gathered +handfuls of their treasures._ + +_All too soon they would hear the call: 'Come, children! it is time to +be going.' And then they would scamper back, their hands full of their +dear dove flowers. No wonder they felt that in leaving this sunny spot +they were leaving one of the happiest places on earth. If only they +could stay there! If only some one could be enjoying it always! What a +pity that on the forty-eight other Sundays of the year it should all +be deserted, shut up and forsaken! There might be numbers of other +wonderful flowers that nobody ever saw. There the old Meeting-house +stays all by itself the whole year round, except on those four +Sundays, even as a lonely pool of clear water remains high up on the +rocks, showing that the great sea itself did come there once, long +ago, flowing in mightily, filling up all the bare chinks and +crannies._ + +_Will such a high tide ever come back again to Come-to-Good? Is that +tide perhaps beginning to flow in, noiselessly and steadily, even +now?_ + +_Some things look rather as if it might be; for new Friends' +Meeting-houses are being built in crowded cities to-day where even the +high tide of long ago never came. But then, in lonely country places +like Come-to-Good, scattered up and down all over England, there are +many of these deserted Meeting-houses, where hardly anybody comes now +or only comes out of curiosity. Yet the high tide did fill them all +once long ago, full to overflowing, when people met within their +walls constantly, seeking and finding God._ + + * * * * * + +_The stories in this book about our 'Quaker Saints' show at what a +cost these deserted places were won for us by our brave forefathers. +They, with their health and their lives gladly given in those terrible +prisons of long ago, gained for us our liberty to meet together 'in +numbers five or more,' to practise a 'form of worship not authorised +by law'; that is to say, without any prayer-book or set form of +service being used._ + +_Is our simple Quaker way of worship really worth the price they paid +for it? Or is it merely a quaint and interesting relic of a by-gone +age, something like the 'Friend's bonnet' that Lois' Grandmother wore +as a matter of course, which now is never used, but lies in a drawer, +carefully covered with tissue paper and fragrant with lavender?_ + +_Is our Quaker faith like that? Is it something antiquated and +interesting, but of no real use to us or to anybody to-day? Or did +these 'Quaker Saints' of whom we have heard, did they, and many other +brave men and women, whose stories are not written here, really and +truly make a big discovery? Did they, by their living and by their +dying, remind the world of a truth that it had been in danger of +forgetting? a truth that may still be in danger of being forgotten +if quite ordinary, everyday people are not faithful now in their +turn?_ + +[Illustration: A FRIENDS' MEETING] + +_Is it really and truly true, that where two or three humble human +souls are gathered together in His Name, in the simplest possible +fashion, without any priest, or altar, or visible signs to help them, +yet our Lord is there? Can He be indeed among them still to-day? and +will He be forever, as He promised? feeding them Himself with the true +Bread of Life, satisfying their thirst with Living Water, baptizing +their souls with Power and with Peace?--_ + +_Children dear, you must answer these questions for yourselves, +fearlessly and honestly. No one else can answer them for you. The +answers may seem long in coming, but do not be in a hurry. They will +come in time, if you seek steadfastly and humbly. Only remember one +thing, as you think over these questions. Even if this is our way, the +right way for us, this very simple Quaker way that our forefathers won +for us at such a cost, still that does not necessarily make it the +right way for all other people too. God's world and God's plans are +much bigger than that. He brings His children home by numbers of +different paths, but for each child of His, God's straight way for +that child is the very best._ + +_The wise old Persians had a proverb, 'The ways unto God are as the +number of the souls of the children of men.' Let us remember this, if +we ever want to try to force other people to think about things +exactly as we do. Let us remember, too, that rivalry and pride, that +saying, or even thinking, 'My way is the only right way, and a much +better way than your way,' is the only really antiquated kind of +worship. The sooner we all learn to lay that aside, not in lavender +and tissue paper, but to cast it away utterly and forget that it ever +existed,--the better._ + +_It is not a bit of an excuse for us when we are inclined to judge +other people critically, to read in these stories that some of the +early Friends did and said harsh and intolerant things. They lived in +a much harsher, more intolerant age than ours. The seventeenth +century, as we know, has been called 'a dreadfully ill-mannered +century.' Let us do our very best not to give any one an excuse for +saying the same of this twentieth century in which we live. Thus, in +reading of these Quaker Saints, let us try to copy, not their +harshness or their intolerance, but their unflinching courage, their +firm steadfastness, their burning hope for every man; above all, their +unconquerable love._ + +_Remember the old lesson of the daisies. Each flower must open itself +as wide as ever it can, in order to receive all that the Sun wants to +give to it. But, while each daisy receives its own ray of sunshine +thankfully and gladly, it must rejoice that other very different rays, +at very different angles, can reach other flowers. Yet the Sun Heart +from which they all come is One and the Same. All the different ways +of worship are One too, when they meet in the Centre._ + +_Therefore it is not strange that at little secluded Come-to-Good, +where the blue doves of the columbines keep watch over the quiet +graves, I should remember a message that came to me in another, very +different, House of God--a magnificent Cathedral far away in South +Italy. There, high up, above the lights and pictures and flowers and +ornaments of the altar, half hidden at times by the clouds of +ascending incense, I caught the shining of great golden letters. +Gradually, as I watched, they formed themselves into these three words +of old Latin:_ + + DEUS ABSCONDITUS HEIC. + +_And the golden message meant:_ + + '_GOD IS HIDDEN HERE._' + +_That is the secret all these different ways of worship are meant to +teach us, if we will only learn. Let us not judge one another, not +ever dream of judging one another any more. Only, wherever our own way +of worship leads us, let us seek to follow it diligently, dutifully, +humbly, and to the end. Then, not only when we are worshipping with +our brothers and sisters around us, in church, chapel, great +cathedral, or quiet meeting-house, but also (perhaps nearest and +closest of all) in the silence of our own hearts, we shall surely find +in truth and with thankfulness that_ + + GOD IS HIDDEN HERE. + + + + +HISTORICAL NOTES + + + + +HISTORICAL NOTES + +NOTE.--The References throughout are to the Cambridge Edition of +George Fox's Journal, except where otherwise stated. The spelling has +been modernised and the extracts occasionally abridged. + + +'STIFF AS A TREE, PURE AS A BELL.' + +Historical; described as closely as possible from George Fox's own +words in his Journal, vol. ii. pp. 94, 100-104. + + +'PURE FOY, MA JOYE.' + +Historical. See George Fox's Journal (Ellwood Edition), pp. 1-17. See +also Sewel's 'History of the Quakers,' and 'Beginnings of Quakerism,' +by W.C. Braithwaite. See 'George Fox,' by Thomas Hodgkin (Leaders of +Religion Series), for description of Fenny Drayton village, manor +house, church, and neighbourhood. + +See also W. Penn's Preface to George Fox's Journal (Ellwood Edition), +pp. xxiv and xxv, for details of parentage, childhood, and youth. + + +'THE ANGEL OF BEVERLEY.' + +This is a purely imaginary story, written for a ten-year-old listener +who begged for 'more of a story about him when he was young.' The +connection of a member of the Purefoy family with the 'Great Lady of +Beverley' has no foundation in fact. On visiting Fenny Drayton, since +writing the story, I find, however, that there were a brother and +sister Edward and Joyce Purefoy, who lived a few years earlier than +the date of this tale. They may still be seen in marble on a tomb in +the North Aisle with their father, the Colonel Purefoy of that day, +who does wear a ruff as described in the story. It is not impossible +that the Colonel Purefoy of George Fox's Journal may also have had a +son and daughter of the same names as described in my account, but I +have no warrant for supposing this and am anxious that this imaginary +tale should not be supposed to possess the same kind of authenticity +as most of the other stories. Priest Stephens' remark about George +Fox, and the scenes in Beverley Minster and at Justice Hotham's house, +are, however, historical. + + +'TAMING THE TIGER.' + +Historical. See George Fox's Journal (Ellwood Edition), pp. 27, 28, +31-48, 335, for the different incidents. + + +'THE MAN IN LEATHER BREECHES.' + +Expanded, with imaginary incidents and consequences, from a few +paragraphs in George Fox's Journal, i. 20. + + +'THE SHEPHERD OF PENDLE HILL.' + +Expanded from George Fox's Journal, i. 40. + +N.B.--The Shepherd, who is the speaker, is a wholly imaginary person. + + +'THE PEOPLE IN WHITE RAIMENT' and 'A WONDERFUL FORTNIGHT.' + +Historical. Taken from various sources, chiefly George Fox's Journal, +vol. i. pp. 40-44, and two unpublished papers by Ernest E. Taylor, +describing the lives and homes of the Westmorland Seekers: 'A Great +People to be Gathered' and 'Faithful Servants of God.' See also his +'Cameos from the Life of George Fox,' Sewel's 'History of the +Quakers,' and 'Beginnings of Quakerism,' by W.C. Braithwaite. + + +'UNDER THE YEW-TREES.' + +Expanded from George Fox's Journal, i. 47, 48, 52. The conversation +among the girls is of course imaginary, but many details are taken +from 'Margaret Fox of Swarthmoor Hall,' by Helen G. Crosfield, a most +helpful book that has been constantly used in all these stories about +Swarthmoor. + + +'BEWITCHED!' + +Historical. See Sewel's History, i. 106. George Fox's Journal, i. 51. +'Testimony of Margaret Fox' (Ellwood Edition of above, p. xliv). +'Margaret Fox of Swarthmoor Hall,' p. 15. Also 'England under the +Stuarts,' by G.M. Trevelyan (for Witchcraft). + + +'THE JUDGE'S RETURN.' + +Historical. See 'Testimony of Margaret Fox' (Ellwood Edition of G. +Fox's Journal), p. xlv. Sewel's History, i. 106. + + +'STRIKE AGAIN!' + +Historical. See George Fox's Journal, i. 57-59. Sewel's History, i. +111-112. + + +'MAGNANIMITY.' + +Historical. See George Fox's Journal, i. 59-61. Sewel's History, i. +113-114. + + +'MILES HALHEAD AND THE HAUGHTY LADY.' + +Historical. See Sewel's History, i. 129-131, and George Fox's Journal, +i. 53, 56, for George Fox's sermon. + + +'SCATTERING THE SEED.' + +Historical. Details taken from George Fox's Journal, i. 141, 209, 347; +292, 297; 11, 337. See also Chapter viii. 'The Mission to the South,' +in 'Beginnings of Quakerism,' by W.C. Braithwaite. Also 'First +Publishers of Truth,' for accounts of the work in the different +counties mentioned. + + +'WRESTLING FOR GOD.' + +Historical. See 'Beginnings of Quakerism,' Chapter viii. Also 'Letters +from the Early Friends,' by A.R. Barclay. 'Piety Promoted,' i. 35-38. +'Story of Quakerism,' by E.B. Emmott, for description of old London. +See also 'Memorials of the Righteous Revived,' by C. Marshall and +Thomas Camm, and note that I have followed T. Camm's account in this +book of his father's journey south with E. Burrough. W.C. Braithwaite +in 'Beginnings of Quakerism,' following 'First Publishers of Truth,' +thinks it, however, more probable that F. Howgill was E. Burrough's +companion throughout the journey, and that the two Friends reached +London together. + + +'LITTLE JAMES AND HIS JOURNEYS' and 'THE FIRST QUAKER MARTYR.' + +Mainly historical. Details taken largely from 'Life of James Parnell,' +by C. Fell Smith. See also 'James Parnell,' by Thomas Hodgkin, in 'The +Trial of our Faith.' Also 'Beginnings of Quakerism,' Chapter ix. and +Sewel's History. The discourse of the two Baptists on Carlisle Bridge +and James's association with them is imaginary, but they are +themselves historical characters, and the incidents they describe are +narrated in George Fox's Journal, i. 114, 115, 124-126; 153, 186. For +'The First Quaker Martyr,' see 'The Lamb's Defence against Lyes, a +true Testimony concerning the sufferings and death of James Parnell. +1656.' + + +'THE CHILDREN OF READING MEETING.' + +See Emmott's 'Story of Quakerism,' p. 83. Also 'Letters of the Early +Friends.' A very graphic but fictitious account of this incident is +given in 'The Children's Meeting,' by M.E. England, now out of print. +See also 'Lessons from Early Quakerism in Reading,' by W.C. +Braithwaite. My account is founded on history, but I have described +imaginary children. The list of scents used on Sir William Armorer's +wig is borrowed from a genuine one of a slightly later period. + + +'THE SADDEST STORY OF ALL.' + +Historical. See Sewel's History, i. 80, 255-293, 382-397, 408, 438. +Also 'Beginnings of Quakerism,' Chapter xi. 'Nayler's Fall.' Also +James Nayler's collected Books and Papers, published in 1716. + + +'PALE WINDFLOWERS.' + +See account of Dewsbury in 'Beginnings of Quakerism.' Also 'The +faithful Testimony of that Antient Servant of the Lord, and Minister +of the Everlasting Gospel, William Dewsbury.' Also 'Testimony to Mary +Samm,' p. 348, same volume. The details given are as far as possible +historical, but the setting, the walk, and the windflowers are +imaginary. The prison scene is as far as possible historical. The +Testimony to little Mary tells the sequel to her 'happy evening,' and +a few paragraphs from it are given here. + + +TESTIMONY TO MARY SAMM, 1680. + + The first day of the second month, 1680, it pleased the Lord to + afflict her with a violent fever, that brought her very low in a + little time, and great was her exercise of spirit, as to her + condition and state with God, many times weeping when she was + alone.... She said, 'If this distemper do not abate, I must die, + but my soul shall go to Eternal Joy, Eternal, Eternal and + Everlasting Life and Peace with my God for ever: Oh! praises, + praises to Thy Majesty, Oh, my God! who helpeth me to go through + with patience, what I am to endure.' Then after some time she + said. 'Friends, we must all go hence one after another, and they + that live the longest know and endure the greatest sorrow: + therefore, O Lord, if it be Thy will, take me to Thyself, that + my soul may rest in peace with Thee, and not any one to see me + here any more. Oh! praises, praises be unto Thy holy Name for + ever in Thy will being done with me, to take me to Thyself, + where I shall be in heavenly joy, yea, in heavenly joy for ever + and for evermore.'... + + And many times would she be praying to the Lord day and night, + 'O Lord, lay no more upon me, than Thou givest me strength to + bear, and go through with patience, that Thy will may be done, + that Thy will may be done' (many times together). 'Oh! help me, + help me, O my God! that I may praise Thy holy Name for ever.' + + And so continued, very often praising the Name of the Lord with + joyful sounds, and singing high praises to His holy Name for + ever and for evermore; she being much spent with lifting up her + voice in high praises to God, through fervency of spirit, and + her body being weak, her Grandfather went into the room, and + desired her to be as still as possibly she could, and keep her + mind inward, and stayed upon the Lord, and see if she could have + a little rest and sleep: she answered, 'Dear Grandfather, I + shall die, and I cannot but praise the Name of the Lord whilst I + have a being; I do not know what to do to praise His Name enough + whilst I live; but whilst there is life there is hope; but I do + believe it is better for me to die than live.' + + And so continued speaking of the goodness of the Lord from day + to day; which caused many tears to fall from the eyes of them + that heard her. Her Grandfather coming to her, asked her how she + did? She said to him and to her Mother, 'I have had no rest this + night nor to-day; I did not know but I should have died this + night, but very hardly I tugged through it; but I shall die + to-day, and a grave shall be made, and my body put into a hole, + and my soul shall go to heavenly joy, yea, heavenly joy and + everlasting peace for evermore.' + + Then she said, 'Dear Grandfather, I do believe thou wilt not + stay long behind me, when I am gone.' + + He answered, 'Dear Granddaughter, I shall come as fast as the + Lord orders my way.' + + Then she praised the Name of the Lord with high praises and + joyful sounds for a season, and then desired her Mother to let + her be taken up a little time; saying, 'It may be it will give + me some ease.' Then they sent for her Grandfather, who said to + her, 'If this be thy last day, and thereon thou art to die, it + is not safe for thee to be taken forth of thy bed: dear Mary, + thou shalt have all attendance that is convenient, as to set + thee up in thy bed, and to lay thee down again; but "to take + thee up" we are not willing to do it.' + + She answered, 'Well, Grandfather, what thou seest best for me, I + am willing to have it so.' + + Then her Mother and Aunt set her up in her bed; she said it did + refresh her and give her some ease: and as they were ordering + what was to be done about her bed, she said, 'Oh! what a great + deal of do is here in ordering the bed for one that is upon + their death-bed.' + + Her Aunt, Joan Dewsbury, said, 'Mary, dost thou think thou art + upon thy death-bed?' + + She answered, 'Yea, yea, I am upon my death-bed, I shall die + to-day, and I am very willing to die, because I know it is + better for me to die than live.' + + Her Aunt replied, 'I do believe it is better for thee to die + than live.' + + She said, 'Yea, it is well for me to die.'... + + 'And, dear Mother, I would have thee remember my love to my dear + sisters, relations, and friends; and now I have nothing to do, I + have nothing to do.' + + A friend answered, 'Nothing, Mary, but to die.' + + Then she said to her Mother, 'I desire thee to give me a little + clear posset drink, then I will see if I can have a little rest + and sleep before I die.' + + When the posset drink came to her, she took a little.... Then + she said to her Mother, 'I have a swelling behind my ear, but I + would not have anything done to it, nor to my sore throat nor + mouth, for all will be well enough when I am in my grave.' + + Then she asked what time of day it was? it being the latter part + of the day, her Grandfather said, 'The chimes are going four;' + she said, 'I thought it had been more; I will see if I can have + a little rest and sleep before I die.' + + And so she lay still, and had a sweet rest and sleep; and then + she awaked without any complaint, and in a quiet peaceable frame + of spirit laid down her head in peace, when the clock struck the + fifth hour of the 9th day of the 2nd month, 1680. + + We whose names are under-written were eye and ear witnesses of + what is before expressed, as near as could be taken, and does + not much vary from what she declared, as the substance (though + much more sweet and comfortable expressions passed from her, but + for brevity sake are willing this only to publish) who stood by + her when she drew her last breath. + + William Dewsbury, her Grandfather. + Mary Samm, her Mother. + Joan Dewsbury, her Aunt. + Hannah Whitthead, a Friend. + + +'AN UNDISTURBED MEETING.' + +I first heard this story graphically told by Ernest E. Taylor. His +intimate knowledge of the neighbourhood, and minute historical +researches into the lives of the Early Friends in this district, made +the whole scene vivid to his listener. In writing down my own account +from memory, some months later, I find I have unintentionally altered +some of the details, and have in particular allowed too long a time +for the soldiers' carouse, and have substituted a troop of horse for +militia. For these lapses from strict historical accuracy I alone am +responsible; but it has seemed better to leave the story as it was +written and to append the following note from the ancient MS. account +of the sufferings at Sedbergh, to show exactly what did occur: + +'1665. Friends being met at John Blaykling's at Draw-well, Lawrence +Hodgson of Dent, an Ensign to the Militia, came into the meeting with +other Militia men, cursing and swearing that if Friends would not +depart and disperse, he would kill them and slay and what not. Then as +Friends did not disperse they pulled them out of doors and so broke up +the meeting. The Ensign thereupon went off, expecting Friends to have +followed him, but they sat down and stood together at the house end [? +and] on the hill-side. So the Ensign came back and with his drawn +sword struck at several Friends and cut some in the hat and some in +the clothes, and so forced and drove them to Sedbergh town, where +after some chief men of the parish had been spoken with, Friends were +let go home in peace.'--_Sedbergh MSS. Sufferings._ + +It was of course the gathering together 'in numbers more than five' +and 'refusing to disperse' that was at this time illegal and made the +Friends liable to severe punishment. There is still a tradition in the +neighbourhood that the Quakers were to be taken not to Ingmire Hall, +but to the house of another Justice at Thorns. + + +'BUTTERFLIES IN THE FELLS.' + +See 'Bygone Northumberland,' by W. Andrews. 'Piety Promoted,' i. +88-90. W.C. Braithwaite's 'Beginnings of Quakerism,' p. 373. 'The +Society of Friends in Newcastle,' by J.W. Steel. + + +'THE VICTORY OF AMOR STODDART.' + +See George Fox's Journal, i. 185, 190, 261, 431; ii. 167. Sewel's +History, i. 29. 'Beginnings of Quakerism,' p. 365. + + +'THE MARVELLOUS VOYAGE OF THE GOOD SHIP "WOODHOUSE."' + +Taken from Robert Fowler's own account: 'A true Relation of the Voyage +undertaken by me Robert Fowler with my small vessel called the +"Woodhouse" but performed by the Lord like as he did Noah's ark, +wherein he shut up a few righteous persons and landed them safe, even +at the Hill Ararat,' published in the 'History of the Society of +Friends in America.' + +The scenes on Bridlington Quay and in London are not strictly +historical, but may be inferred from the above account. + + +'RICHARD SELLAR AND THE "MERCIFUL MAN."' + +Taken from Richard Sellar's own narrative: 'An account of the +sufferings of Richard Seller of Keinsey, a Fisherman who was prest in +Scarborough Piers, in the time of the two last engagements between the +Dutch and English, in the year 1665,' published in Besse's 'Sufferings +of the Quakers,' vol. ii. pp. 112-120. + + +'TWO ROBBER STORIES--WEST AND EAST.' + +(1) Leonard Fell and the Highwayman, taken from 'The Fells of +Swarthmoor Hall,' by M. Webb, p. 353. + +(2) On the Road to Jerusalem. Taken from George Robinson's own +account, published in 'A Brief History of the Voyage of Katharine +Evans and Sarah Cheevers.' pp. 207 ad fin. + + +'SILVER SLIPPERS.' + +Mainly historical. See Sewel's History, i. 294, 473; ii. 343. See also +'History of the Quakers,' by G. Croese, for some additional +particulars. The best account of Mary Fisher and her adventurous +journey is given in 'Quaker Women,' by Mabel R. Brailsford, Chapters +v. and vi., entitled 'Mary Fisher' and 'An Ambassador to the Grand +Turk.' I am indebted to Miss Brailsford for permission to draw freely +from her most interesting narrative, and also to quote from her +extracts from Paul Rycaut's History. + +The only historical foundation for the 'Silver Slippers' is the +statement by one historian that before Mary Fisher's interview with +the Sultan she was allowed twenty-four hours to rest and to 'arrange +her dress.' H.M. Wallis has kindly supplied me with some local +colouring and information about Adrianople. + + +'FIERCE FEATHERS.' + +A historical incident, with some imaginary actors. The outlines of +this story are given in 'Historical Anecdotes' by Pike. Several +additional particulars and the copy of a painting of the Indians at +Meeting are to be found in the Friends' Reference Library at +Devonshire House. For some helpful notes about the locality I am +indebted to H.P. Morris of Philadelphia, U.S.A. + + +'THE THIEF IN THE TANYARD.' + +Historical. The facts and the words of the speakers are taken almost +verbatim from Pike's 'Historical Anecdotes.' I have only supplied the +setting for the story. + + +'HOW A FRENCH NOBLE BECAME A FRIEND.' + +Entirely historical. All the facts are taken from the Autobiography of +Stephen Grellet. + + +'PREACHING TO NOBODY.' + +This story is not to be found in Stephen Grellet's Autobiography. It +appeared in 'The American Friend,' November 1895, and is now included +in the penny 'Life of Stephen Grellet' in the Friends Ancient and +Modern Series. The actual words of Stephen Grellet's sermon have not +been recorded. Those in the text are expanded from a sentence in +another discourse of his, given here in quotation marks. The incident +of the cracked mug is not historical. + + +THE END + +Printed in Great Britain by R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, Edinburgh. + + + + + + * * * * * + + +--------------------------------------------------------------+ + | Typographical errors corrected in text: | + | | + | Page 22: thinkng replaced with thinking | + | Page 148: twelye replaced with twelve | + | Page 275: thoughout replaced with throughout | + | | + +--------------------------------------------------------------+ + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BOOK OF QUAKER SAINTS*** + + +******* This file should be named 19605-8.txt or 19605-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/9/6/0/19605 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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+ margin-top: 0em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + border: solid black; + height: 5px; } + pre {font-size: small;} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1 class="pg">The Project Gutenberg eBook, A Book of Quaker Saints, by Lucy Violet +Hodgkin, Illustrated by F. Cayley-Robinson</h1> +<pre> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: A Book of Quaker Saints</p> +<p>Author: Lucy Violet Hodgkin</p> +<p>Release Date: October 22, 2006 [eBook #19605]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BOOK OF QUAKER SAINTS***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3 class="pg">E-text prepared by Mark C. Orton, Jeannie Howse,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net/)</h3> +<p> </p> +<div class="tr"> +<p class="cen" style="font-weight: bold;">Transcriber's Note:</p> +<br /> +<p class="noin">Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the +original document have been preserved.</p> +<p class="noin">Three obvious typographical errors were corrected in +this text. For a complete list, please see the +<a href="#TN">end of the book</a>.</p> +</div> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h1>A BOOK<br /> +OF QUAKER SAINTS</h1> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="ad"> + +<h3><i>BY THE SAME AUTHOR.</i></h3> + +<p class="cen" style="margin-bottom: .5em; font-weight: bold;">PILGRIMS IN PALESTINE.</p> +<p class="right2">[<i>Out of print.</i>]</p> +<p class="cen" style="margin-bottom: .5em; font-weight: bold;">THE HAPPY WORLD.</p> +<p class="cen" style="margin-bottom: .5em; font-weight: bold;">CONTRIBUTIONS TO 'THE<br /> + FELLOWSHIP OF SILENCE.'</p> +<p class="cen" style="margin-bottom: .5em; font-weight: bold;">SILENT WORSHIP: THE WAY OF WONDER.</p> +<p class="right2">(<i>Swarthmore Lecture, 1919.</i>)</p> +<br /> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> + + +<div class="img"><a name="frontis" id="frontis"></a> +<a href="images/frontis.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/frontis.jpg" width="45%" alt="LOIS AND HER NURSE" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">LOIS AND HER NURSE<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> + + + +<h2 style="margin-bottom: -1px;">A BOOK OF</h2> +<h1 style="margin-top: -1px;">QUAKER SAINTS</h1> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h4 style="margin-bottom: -1px;">BY</h4> +<h2 style="margin-top: -1px; margin-bottom: -1px;">L. V. HODGKIN</h2> +<h4 style="margin-top: -1px;">(<span class="sc">Mrs</span>. JOHN HOLDSWORTH)</h4> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h4 style="margin-bottom: -1px;">ILLUSTRATED BY</h4> +<h3 style="margin-top: -1px;">F. CAYLEY-ROBINSON, A.R.A.</h3> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h5>MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED<br /> +ST. MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON<br /> +1922</h5> + +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h5>COPYRIGHT<br /> +<i>First Edition 1917</i> <i>Reprinted 1918</i><br /> +<i>Transferred to Macmillan & Co. and reprinted 1922</i></h5> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h5>PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN</h5> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h3>DEDICATED</h3> +<h5>TO THE</h5> +<h3>CHILDREN</h3> +<h5>OF THE</h5> +<h3>SOCIETY OF FRIENDS</h3> +<h5>AND TO THE</h5> +<h3>GRANDCHILDREN</h3> +<h5>OF</h5> +<h3>THOMAS HODGKIN</h3> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>PREFACE</h3> +<br /> + +<p>The following stories are intended for children of various ages. The +introductory chapter, 'A Talk about Saints,' and the stories marked +with an asterisk in the Table of Contents, were written first for an +eager listener of nine years old. But as the book has grown longer the +age of its readers has grown older for two reasons:</p> + +<p><i>First:</i> because it was necessary to take for granted some knowledge +of the course of English History at the period of the Civil Wars. To +have re-told the story of the contest between King and Parliament, +leading up to the execution of Charles the First and the Protectorate +of Oliver Cromwell, would have taken up much of the fresh, undivided +attention that I was anxious to focus upon the lives and doings of +these 'Quaker Saints.' I have therefore presupposed a certain +familiarity with the chief actors and parties, and an understanding of +such names as Cavalier, Roundhead, Presbyterian, Independent, etc.; +but I have tried to explain any obsolete words, or those of which the +meaning has altered in the two and a half centuries that have elapsed +since the great struggle.</p> + +<p><i>Secondly</i>: because the stories of the persecutions of the Early +Friends are too harrowing for younger children. Even a very much +softened and milder version was met with the repeated request: 'Do, +please, skip this part and make it come happy quickly.' I have +preferred, therefore, to write for older boys and girls who will wish +for a true account of suffering bravely borne; though without undue +insistence on the physical side. For to tell the stories of these +lives without the terrible, glorious account of the cruel <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[viii]</a></span>beatings, +imprisonments, and even martyrdom in which they often ended here, is +not truly to tell them at all. The tragic darkness in the picture is +necessary to enhance its high lights.</p> + +<p>My youngest critic observes that 'it does not matter so much what +happens to grown-up people, because I can always skip that bit; but if +anything bad is going to happen to children, you had better leave it +out of your book altogether.' I have therefore obediently omitted the +actual sufferings of children as far as possible, except in one or two +stories where they are an essential part of the narrative.</p> + +<p>It must be remembered that this is not a History of the Early Quaker +Movement, but a book of stories of some Early Quaker Saints. I have +based my account on contemporary authorities; but I have not scrupled +to supply unrecorded details or explanatory speeches in order to make +the scene more vivid to my listeners. In two stories of George Fox's +youth, as authentic records are scanty, I have even ventured to look +through the eyes of imaginary spectators at 'The Shepherd of Pendle +Hill' and 'The Angel of Beverley.' But the deeper I have dug down into +the past, the less need there has been to fill in outlines; and the +more possible it has been to keep closely to the actual words of +George Fox's Journal, and other contemporary documents. The historical +notes at the end of the book will indicate where the original +authorities for each story are to be found, and they will show what +liberties have been taken. The quotations that precede the different +chapters are intended mainly for older readers, and to illustrate +either the central thought or the history of the times.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[ix]</a></span>Many stories of other Quaker Saints that should have been included in +this book have had to be omitted for want of room. The records of +William Penn and his companions and friends on both sides of the +Atlantic will, it is hoped, eventually find a place in a later volume. +The stories in the present book have been selected to show how the +Truth of the Inward Light first dawned gradually on one soul, and then +spread rapidly, in ever-widening circles, through a neighbourhood, a +kingdom, and, finally, all over the world.</p> + +<p>I have to thank many kind friends who have helped me in this +delightful task. <i>The Book of Quaker Saints</i> owes its existence to my +friend Ernest E. Taylor, who first suggested the title and plan, and +then, gently but inexorably, persuaded me to write it. Several of the +stories and many of the descriptions are due to his intimate knowledge +of the lives and homes of the Early Friends; he has, moreover, been my +unfailing adviser and helper at every stage of the work.</p> + +<p>No one can study this period of Quaker history without being +constantly indebted to William Charles Braithwaite, the author of +<i>Beginnings of Quakerism</i>, and to Norman Penney, the Librarian at +Devonshire House, and Editor of the Cambridge Edition of George Fox's +Journal with its invaluable notes. But beyond this I owe a personal +debt of gratitude to these two Friends, for much wise counsel as to +sources, for their kindness in reading my MS. and my proofs, and for +the many errors that their accurate scholarship has helped me to +avoid, or enabled me to detect.</p> + +<p>To Ethel Crawshaw, Assistant at the same Library; <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[x]</a></span>to my sister, Ellen +S. Bosanquet; and to several other friends who have helped me in +various ways, my grateful thanks are also due.</p> + +<p>The stories are intended in the first place for Quaker children, and +are written throughout from a Quaker standpoint, though with the wish +to be as fair as possible not only to our staunch forefathers, but +also to their doughty antagonists. Even when describing the fiercest +encounters between them, I have tried to write nothing that might +perplex or pain other than Quaker listeners; above all, to be ever +mindful of what George Fox himself calls 'the hidden unity in the +Eternal Being.'</p> + +<p class="right">L. V. HODGKIN.</p> +<p><i>29th July 1917.</i></p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="toc" id="toc"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[xi]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> +<br /> + +<div class="centered"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" width="80%" summary="Table of Contents"> + <tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="tdl" width="70%"><a href="#PREFACE">PREFACE</a></td> + <td class="tdr" width="20%"><i>page</i> vii</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;">*</td> + <td class="tdr"> </td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#A_TALK_ABOUT_SAINTS">A TALK ABOUT SAINTS</a></td> + <td class="tdr">1</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;">*</td> + <td class="tdr">I.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#I_STIFF_AS_A_TREE">'STIFF AS A TREE, PURE AS A BELL'</a></td> + <td class="tdr">19</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;">*</td> + <td class="tdr">II.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#II_PURE_FOY_MA_JOYE">'PURE FOY, MA JOYE'</a></td> + <td class="tdr">33</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;">*</td> + <td class="tdr">III.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#III_THE_ANGEL_OF_BEVERLEY">THE ANGEL OF BEVERLEY</a></td> + <td class="tdr">57</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;">*</td> + <td class="tdr">IV.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#IV_TAMING_THE_TIGER">TAMING THE TIGER</a></td> + <td class="tdr">79</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;">*</td> + <td class="tdr">V.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#V_LEATHER_BREECHES">'THE MAN IN LEATHER BREECHES'</a></td> + <td class="tdr">97</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;"> </td> + <td class="tdr">VI.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#VI_THE_SHEPHERD">THE SHEPHERD OF PENDLE HILL</a></td> + <td class="tdr">111</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;"> </td> + <td class="tdr">VII.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#VII_WHITE_RAIMENT">THE PEOPLE IN WHITE RAIMENT</a></td> + <td class="tdr">121</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;"> </td> + <td class="tdr">VIII.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#VIII_A_WONDERFUL_FORTNIGHT">A WONDERFUL FORTNIGHT</a></td> + <td class="tdr">131</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;"> </td> + <td class="tdr">IX.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#IX_UNDER_THE_YEW-TREES">UNDER THE YEW-TREES</a></td> + <td class="tdr">149</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;"> </td> + <td class="tdr">X.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#X_BEWITCHED">'BEWITCHED!'</a></td> + <td class="tdr">163</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;"> </td> + <td class="tdr">XI.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#XI_THE_JUDGES_RETURN">THE JUDGE'S RETURN</a></td> + <td class="tdr">175</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;">*</td> + <td class="tdr">XII.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#XII_STRIKE_AGAIN">'STRIKE AGAIN!'</a></td> + <td class="tdr">185</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;">*</td> + <td class="tdr">XIII.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#XIII_MAGNANIMITY">MAGNANIMITY</a></td> + <td class="tdr">197</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;">*</td> + <td class="tdr">XIV.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#XIV_HAUGHTY_LADY">MILES HALHEAD AND THE HAUGHTY LADY</a></td> + <td class="tdr">209</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;"> </td> + <td class="tdr">XV.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#XV_SCATTERING_THE_SEED">SCATTERING THE SEED</a></td> + <td class="tdr">223</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;"> </td> + <td class="tdr">XVI.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#XVI_WRESTLING_FOR_GOD">WRESTLING FOR GOD</a></td> + <td class="tdr">239</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;"> </td> + <td class="tdr">XVII.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#XVII_LITTLE_JAMES">LITTLE JAMES AND HIS JOURNEYS</a></td> + <td class="tdr">255</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;"> </td> + <td class="tdr"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">[xii]</a></span>XVIII.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#XVIII_THE_FIRST_QUAKER_MARTYR">THE FIRST QUAKER MARTYR</a></td> + <td class="tdr">271</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;">*</td> + <td class="tdr">XIX.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#XIX_THE_CHILDREN_OF_READING_MEETING">THE CHILDREN OF READING MEETING</a></td> + <td class="tdr">285</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;">*</td> + <td class="tdr">XX.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#XX_THE_SADDEST_STORY_OF_ALL">THE SADDEST STORY OF ALL</a></td> + <td class="tdr">301</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;">*</td> + <td class="tdr">XXI.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#XXI_PALE_WIND_FLOWERS">PALE WINDFLOWERS</a></td> + <td class="tdr">321</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;"> </td> + <td class="tdr">XXII.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#XXII_AN_UNDISTURBED_MEETING">AN UNDISTURBED MEETING</a></td> + <td class="tdr">343</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;"> </td> + <td class="tdr">XXIII.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#XXIII_BUTTERFLIES_IN_THE_FELLS">BUTTERFLIES IN THE FELLS</a></td> + <td class="tdr">353</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;">*</td> + <td class="tdr">XXIV.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#XXIV_THE_VICTORY_OF_AMOR_STODDART">THE VICTORY OF AMOR STODDART</a></td> + <td class="tdr">367</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;">*</td> + <td class="tdr">XXV.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#XXV_THE_MARVELLOUS_VOYAGE">THE MARVELLOUS VOYAGE OF THE GOOD SHIP 'WOODHOUSE'</a></td> + <td class="tdr">379</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;">*</td> + <td class="tdr">XXVI.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#XXVI_THE_MERCIFUL_MAN">RICHARD SELLAR AND THE 'MERCIFUL MAN'</a></td> + <td class="tdr">403</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;">*</td> + <td class="tdr">XXVII.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#XXVII_TWO_ROBBER_STORIES">TWO ROBBER STORIES—WEST AND EAST</a></td> + <td class="tdr">427</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;"> </td> + <td class="tdr">XXVIII.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#XXVIII_SILVER_SLIPPERS">SILVER SLIPPERS: OR A QUAKERESS AMONG THE TURKS</a></td> + <td class="tdr">441</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;">*</td> + <td class="tdr">XXIX.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#FIERCE_FEATHERS">FIERCE FEATHERS</a></td> + <td class="tdr">465</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;">*</td> + <td class="tdr">XXX.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#XXX_THE_THIEF_IN_THE_TANYARD">THE THIEF IN THE TANYARD</a></td> + <td class="tdr">479</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;"> </td> + <td class="tdr">XXXI.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#XXXI_FRENCH_NOBLE">HOW A FRENCH NOBLE BECAME A FRIEND</a></td> + <td class="tdr">489</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;"> </td> + <td class="tdr">XXXII.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#XXXII_PREACHING_TO_NOBODY">PREACHING TO NOBODY</a></td> + <td class="tdr">509</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;"> </td> + <td class="tdr"> </td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#COME-TO-GOOD">COME-TO-GOOD</a></td> + <td class="tdr">523</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" style="font-weight: bold; font-size: 110%;"> </td> + <td class="tdr"> </td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#HISTORICAL_NOTES">HISTORICAL NOTES</a></td> + <td class="tdr">539</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc" colspan="4"><i>Note.</i>—An Asterisk denotes stories suitable for younger children.</td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="toi" id="toi"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">[xiii]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h3> + +<p class="cen"><i>reproduced from water-colour drawings by</i><br /> +<span class="sc">F. Cayley-Robinson</span></p> + +<br /> + +<div class="centered"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" width="80%" summary="List of Illustrations"> + <tr> + <td class="tdr" width="10%">I.</td> + <td class="tdl" width="80%"><a href="#frontis">LOIS AND HER NURSE</a></td> + <td class="tdr" width="20%"><i>Frontispiece</i></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">II.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#imagep036">THE BOYHOOD OF GEORGE FOX</a></td> + <td class="tdr"><i>page</i> 36</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">III.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#imagep114">'DREAMING OF THE COT IN THE VALE'</a></td> + <td class="tdr">114</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">IV.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#imagep306">'THE VOICE OF THE SILENCE'</a></td> + <td class="tdr">306</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">V.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#imagep324">PALE WINDFLOWERS</a></td> + <td class="tdr">324</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">VI.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#imagep474">FIERCE FEATHERS</a></td> + <td class="tdr">474</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">VII.</td> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#imagep534">A FRIENDS' MEETING</a></td> + <td class="tdr">534</td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="A_TALK_ABOUT_SAINTS" id="A_TALK_ABOUT_SAINTS"></a><hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>A TALK ABOUT SAINTS<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0a"><i>'What are these that glow from afar,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0a"><i>These that lean over the golden bar,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0a"><i>Strong as the lion, pure as the dove,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0a"><i>With open arms and hearts of love?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0a"><i>They the blessed ones gone before,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0a"><i>They the blessed for evermore.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0a"><i>Out of great tribulation they went</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0a"><i>Home to their home of Heaven-content;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0a"><i>Through flood or blood or furnace-fire,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0a"><i>To the rest that fulfils desire.'</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i>CHRISTINA ROSSETTI.</i></span><br /> +</div></div> + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>St. Patrick's three orders of +Saints: 'a glory on the mountain +tops: a gleam on the sides of the +hills: a few faint lights in the +valleys.'</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'The Lord is King in His Saints, +He guards them, and guides them +with His mighty power, into His +kingdom of glory and eternal rest, +where they find joy, and peace, +and rest eternal.'<span class="fakesc">—GEORGE +FOX.</span></i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>A TALK ABOUT SAINTS</h3> +<br /> + +<p><i>'What is a Saint? How I do wish I knew!'</i></p> + +<p><i>A little girl asked herself this question a great many years ago, as +she sat looking up at a patch of sunset cloud that went sailing past +the bars of her nursery window late one Sunday afternoon; but the +window was small and high up, and the cloud sailed by quickly.</i></p> + +<p><i>As she watched it go, little Lois wished that she was back in her own +nursery at home, where the windows were large and low down, and so +near the floor that even a small girl could see out of them easily. +Moreover, her own windows had wide window-sills that she could sit on, +with toy-cupboards underneath.</i></p> + +<p><i>There were no toy-cupboards in this old-fashioned nursery, where Lois +was visiting, and not many toys either. There was a doll's house, that +her mother used to play with when she was a little girl; but the dolls +in it were all made of wood and looked stiff and stern, and one +hundred years older than the dolls of to-day, or than the children +either, for that matter. Besides, the doll's house might not be opened +on Sundays.</i></p> + +<p><i>So Lois turned again to the window, and looking up at it, she wished, +as she had wished <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span>many times before on this visit, that it was rather +lower down and much larger, and that the window ledge was a little +wider, so that she could lean upon it and see where that rosy cloud +had gone.</i></p> + +<p><i>She ran for a chair, and climbed up, hoping to be able to see out +better. Alas! the window was a long way from the ground outside. She +still could not look out and see what was happening in the garden +below. Even the sun had sunk too far down for her to say good-night to +it before it set. But that did not matter, for the rosy cloud had +apparently gone to fetch innumerable other rosy cloudlets, and they +were all holding hands and dancing across the sky in a wide band, with +pale, clear pools of green and blue behind them.</i></p> + +<p><i>'What lovely rainbow colours!' thought the little girl. And then the +rainbow colours reminded her of the question that had been puzzling +her when she began to watch the rosy cloud. So she repeated, out loud +this time and in rather a weary voice, 'Whatever is a Saint? How I do +wish I knew! And why are there no Saints on the windows in Meeting?'</i></p> + +<p><i>No answer came to her questions. Lois and her nurse were paying a +visit all by themselves. They spent most of their days up in this old +nursery at the top of the big house. Nurse had gone downstairs a long +time ago, saying that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span>she would bring up tea for them both on a +tea-tray, before it was time to light the lamps. For there was no gas +or electric light in children's nurseries in those days.</i></p> + +<p><i>If Lois had been at home she would herself have been having tea +downstairs in the dining-room at this time with her father and mother. +Then she could have asked them what a Saint was, and have found out +all about it at once. Father and mother always seemed to know the +answers to her questions. At least, very nearly always. For Lois was +so fond of asking questions, that sometimes she asked some that had no +answer; but those were silly questions, not like this one. Lois felt +certain that either her father or her mother would have explained to +her quite clearly all about Saints, and would have wanted her to +understand about them. Away here there was nobody to ask. Nurse would +only say, 'If you ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies.' Somehow +whenever she said that, Lois fancied it meant that nurse was not very +sure of the answer herself. She had already asked Aunt Isabel in +church that same morning, when the puzzle began; and Aunt Isabel's +answer about 'a halo' had left the little girl more perplexed than +ever.</i></p> + +<p><i>Lois had heard of people 'going to church' before, but she had never +understood what it <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span>meant until to-day. At home on Sundays she went to +Meeting with father and mother. She liked walking there, in between +them, holding a hand of each, skipping and jumping in order not to +step on the black lines of the pavement. She liked to see the shops +with their eyes all shut tight for Sunday, and to watch for the +naughty shops, here and there, who kept a corner of their blinds up, +just to show a few toys or goodies underneath. Lois always thought +that those shops looked as if they were winking up at her; and she +smiled back at them a rather reproving little smile. She enjoyed the +walk and was sorry when it came to an end. For, to tell the truth, she +did not enjoy the Meeting that followed it at all.</i></p> + +<p><i>Long before the hour was over she used to grow very tired of the +silence and of the quiet room, tired of kicking her blue footstool +(gently of course, but still kicking it) and of counting her boot +buttons up and down, or else watching the hands of the clock move +slowly round its big calm face. 'Church' was a more interesting place +than Meeting, certainly; but then 'Church' had disadvantages of its +own. Everything there was strange to Lois. It had almost frightened +her, this first time. She did not know when she ought to stand up, or +when she ought to kneel, and when she might sit down. Then, when the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span>organ played and everybody stood up and sang a hymn, Lois found to her +surprise that her throat was beginning to feel tight and choky. For +some reason she began to wonder if father and mother were sitting in +Meeting alone, and if they had quite forgotten their little girl. Two +small tears gathered. In another minute they might have slipped out of +the corners of her eyes, and have run down her cheeks. They might even +have fallen upon the page of the hymn-book she was carefully holding +upside down. And that would have been dreadful!</i></p> + +<p><i>Happily, just in time, she looked up and saw something so beautiful +above her that the two tears ran back to wherever it was they came +from, in less time than it takes to tell.</i></p> + +<p><i>For there, above her head, was a tall, pointed, glass window, high up +on the wall. The glass in the window was of wonderful colours, like a +rainbow:—deep purple and blue, shining gold, rich, soft red, and +glowing crimson, with here and there a green that twinkled like young +beech-leaves in the woods in spring. Best of all, there was one bit of +purest white, with sunlight streaming through it, that shone like +dazzling snow. At first Lois only noticed the colours, and the ugly +black lines that separated them. She wondered why the beautiful glass +was divided up into such queer shapes. There are no black lines +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span>between the colours in a real rainbow.</i></p> + +<p><i>Gradually, however, she discovered that all the different colours +meant something, that they were all part of a picture on the window, +that a tall figure was standing there, looking down upon her—upon +her, fidgety little Lois, kicking her scarlet hassock in the pew. But +Lois was not kicking her hassock any longer. She was looking up into +the grave, kind face above her on the window. 'Whoever was it? Who +could it be? Was it a man or a woman? A man,' Lois thought at first, +until she saw that he was wearing a robe that fell into glowing folds +at his feet. 'Men never wear robes, do they? unless they are +dressing-gowns. This certainly was not a dressing-gown. And what was +the flat thing like a plate behind his head?' Lois had never seen +either a man or a woman wear anything like that before. 'If it was a +plate, how could it be fastened on? It would be sure to fall off and +break....'</i></p> + +<p><i>The busy little mind had so much to wonder about, that Lois found it +easy to sit still, until the sermon was over, as she watched the +sunlight pour through the different colours in turn, making each one +more beautiful and full of light as it passed.</i></p> + +<p><i>At length the organ stopped, and the last long '<span class="fakesc">AH-MEN</span>' +had been sung. 'Church sings "<span class="fakesc">AH-MEN</span>" out loud, and Meeting +says "Amen" quite <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span>gently; p'raps that's what makes the difference +between them,' Lois thought to herself wisely. As soon as the last +notes of music had died away, she nestled close to Aunt Isabel's side +and said in an eager voice, 'What is that lovely window up there? Who +is that beautiful person? I do like his face. And is it a He or a +She?'</i></p> + +<p><i>'Hush, darling!' her aunt whispered. 'Speak lower. That is a Saint, +of course.'</i></p> + +<p><i>'But what is a Saint and how do you know it is one?' the little girl +whispered earnestly, pointing upwards to the tall figure through which +the sunshine streamed. Aunt Isabel was busy collecting her books and +she only whispered back, 'Don't you see the halo?' 'I don't know what +a halo can be, but a Saint is a kind of glass window, I suppose,' +thought Lois, as she followed her aunt down the aisle. Afterwards on +her way home, and at dinner, and all the afternoon, there had been so +many other things to see and to think about, that it was not until the +rosy patch of cloud sailed past the nursery window-pane at sunset that +she was reminded of the beautiful colours in church, and of the puzzle +about Saints and haloes that till then she had forgotten.</i></p> + +<p><i>'At least, no, I didn't exactly forget', she said to herself, 'but I +think p'raps I sort of disremembered—till the sunset colours reminded +me. Only I haven't found out what a Saint is yet, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>or a halo. And why +don't we have them on our Sunday windows in Meeting?'</i></p> + +<p><i>Just at that moment the door opened, and nurse, who had been enjoying +a long talk downstairs in the kitchen, came in with the tea-tray. 'How +dark you are up here!' nurse exclaimed in her cheerful voice. 'We +shall have to light the lamp after all, or you will never find the way +to your mouth.'</i></p> + +<p><i>So the lamp was lighted. The curtains were drawn. The sunset sky, +fast fading now, was hidden. And Lois' questions remained unanswered.</i></p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p><i>A few days later, the visit came to an end. The next Sunday, Lois was +at home again, 'chattering like a little magpie,' as her mother said, +about everything she had seen and done. She had so much to think +about, that even Meeting did not seem as long as usual, though she +thought the walls looked plainer than ever, and the glass windows very +empty, till the sight of them reminded her that she could find out +more about Saints now. At home in the afternoon she began. Drawing her +footstool close to the big arm-chair, she put her elbows on her +father's knee and looked up searchingly into his face. 'Father, please +tell me, if you possibly can,' pleaded an earnest little voice, 'for I +do very badly want to find out. Do <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span>you know what a Saint is?' Her +father laughed. 'Know what a Saint is? I should think I did! No man +better!' he answered. Lois wondered why he glanced across to the other +side of the fire where her mother was sitting; and why she glanced +back at him and shook her head, meeting his eyes with a happy smile. +Then her father jumped up, and from the lowest shelf of one of his +book-cases he fetched a fat, square volume, bound in brown leather and +gold. This he put carefully on a table, and drawing Lois on to his +knee and putting his arm round her, he showed her a number of +photographs. Lambs were there, and running fountains, and spangly +stars, and peacocks, and doves. But those pages he turned over +quickly, until he came to others: photographs of men and women dressed +in white, carrying palms and holding crowns in their hands.</i></p> + +<p><i>He told Lois that these people were 'Saints,' that they formed a long +procession on the walls of a big church at Ravenna, far away in Italy; +and that they were made of little pieces of a sort of shining glass +called 'mosaic.' 'Saints have something to do with glass then. But +these photographs are not a bit like my beautiful window,' Lois +thought to herself, rather sadly. 'There are no colours here.' She +turned over the photographs without much interest, until her father, +exclaiming, 'There, that is the one I want!' <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>showed her one portrait +of a little girl standing among all the grown-up people, carrying just +as big a palm and crown as any of the others. He told Lois that these +crowns and palms were to show that the people who carried them had all +been put to death or 'martyred,' because they would not worship +heathen gods. He made Lois spell out the letters '<span class="fakesc">SCA. +EULALIA</span>' written on the halo around the little girl's head, +'That is Saint Eulalia,' her father explained. 'She was offered her +freedom and her life if she would sacrifice to idols just one tiny +grain of corn, to show that she renounced her allegiance to Jesus +Christ; but when the corn was put into her hands she threw it all back +into the Judge's face. After that, there was no escape for her. She +was condemned to die, and she did die, Lois, very bravely, though she +was only a little girl, not much older than you.' Here Lois hid her +face against her father's coat and shivered. 'But after that cruel +death, when her little body was lying unburied, a white dove hovered +over it, until a fall of snowflakes came and hid it from people's +sight. So you see, Lois, though Eulalia was only twelve years old when +she was put to death, she has been called Saint Eulalia ever since, +though it all happened hundreds of years ago. Children can be Saints +as well as grown-up people, if they are brave enough and faithful +enough.'</i></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span><i>'Saints must be brave, and Saints must be faithful,' Lois repeated, +as she shut up the big book and helped to carry it back to its shelf. +'But lots of other children have died since Sancta Eulalia was killed +and her body was covered by the snow. Surely some of those children +must have been brave and faithful too, even though they are not called +Saints? They don't stand on glass windows, or wear those things that +father calls haloes, and that I call plates, round their heads, with +their names written on them. So Saints really are rather puzzling sort +of people still. I do hope I shall find out more about them some +day.'</i></p> + +<p><i>Thus Lois went on wondering, till, gradually, she came to find out +more of the things that make a Saint—not purple robes, or shining +garments, or haloes; not even crowns and palms; but other things, +quite different, and much more difficult to get.</i></p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p><i>'It is enough to vex a Saint!' her kind nurse exclaimed when Lois +spilled her jam at tea, all down her clean white frock. Or, on other +days, 'Oh dear! my patiences is not so good as they once were!' and, +'These rheumatics would try the patience of a Saint!' nurse would say, +with a weary sigh.</i></p> + +<p><i>'Then the reason my Nanny isn't a Saint is because she gets vexed +when I'm naughty, and because she isn't patient when she has a pain,' +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>reasoned Lois. 'What a number of things it does seem to take to make a +Saint! But then it takes eggs and milk and butter and sugar and flour +and currants and raisins too to make a cake. Saints must be brave</i> and +<i>faithful; never get vexed; have patience always. Mother said patience +was the beginning of everything, when I stamped my foot because I +broke my cotton. Do Saints have to begin with patience too? If only I +could see a real live one with my own eyes and find out!'</i></p> + +<p><i>Yet, strange to say, when Lois was told that she was looking at a +'real live Saint' at last, the little girl did not even wish to +believe it. This happened one Saturday afternoon. She was walking with +her governess to a beautiful wooded Dene, through which a clear stream +hurried to join the big black river that flowed past the windows of +Lois' home. On the way to the Dene they passed near a broad marsh with +stepping-stones across it. Close to the river Lois saw, in the +distance, the roofs of some wretched-looking cottages. Evidently on +her way to these cottages, balancing herself on the slippery +stepping-stones, was a little old lady in a hideous black bonnet with +jet ornaments that waggled as she moved, and shiny black gloves +screwed up into tight corkscrews at the finger ends. She carried a +large basket in one hand, and held up her skirts with the other, +showing that she wore boots with <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>elastic sides, which Lois +particularly disliked.</i></p> + +<p><i>'Look there!' her governess said to Lois, 'actually crossing the +marsh to visit that den of fever! Old Miss S ... may not be a beauty, +but she certainly is a perfect Saint!'</i></p> + +<p><i>'Oh no, she's not!' cried Lois with much vehemence. 'At least, I mean +I hope she isn't,' she added the next minute. 'You see,' she went on +apologetically, 'I have a very special reason for being interested in +Saints; I don't at all want any of my Saints to look ugly like that. +And, what is more, I don't believe they do!'</i></p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p><i>Many months passed before the time came, when she was least expecting +it, that Lois saw, she actually did see, a 'real live Saint' for +herself.</i></p> + +<p><i>How did she know it was a Saint? Lois could not tell how she knew; +but from the very first moment that she found herself looking up into +one of the kindest, most loving faces that she had ever seen, she was +perfectly sure that she had found a Saint at last. She saw no halo—at +least no golden halo; but the white hair that tenderly framed the +white face looked almost like a halo of silver, the little girl +thought. It was not a beautiful face; at any rate not what Lois would +have called beautiful beforehand. It had many wrinkles though the skin +was fresh and clear. The eyes looked, somehow, as if they had shed so +many tears <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>long ago, that now there were no tears left to shed; +nothing remained but smiles. Perhaps that was the reason they were +nearly always smiling. As Lois looked up and saw that gentle old face +bending over her, it gave her the same sort of mysterious feeling that +she had when she gazed up into the cloudless blue sky at noonday, or +into a night sky full of stars. She seemed to be looking up, as high +as ever she could, into something infinitely far above her; and yet to +be looking down into something as well, deep down into an endless +depth. Or rather, she felt that she was neither looking up nor down, +but that she was looking</i> through....</p> + +<p><i>'Why, Saints are a sort of window after all,' Lois said to herself, +as she gave a jump of joy,—'real windows! Only not the glass kind! I +have found out at last what makes a Saint, and what real live Saints +look like. It is not being killed only; though I suppose they must +always be ready to be killed. It is not being made of all the +difficult things inside only; though, of course, they must always be +full of them. It certainly isn't wearing ugly clothes or anything +horrid. I know now what really and truly, and most especially, makes a +Saint, and that is</i></p> + +<p class="cen2">LETTING THE SUNLIGHT THROUGH!'</p> + +<p><i>So Lois had found out something for herself <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>at last, had she not? +Those are always the best sort of discoveries; but there are a great +many more things to find out about Saints that Lois never thought of, +in those days long ago. Most interesting things they are! That is one +comfort about Saints—they are always interesting, never dull. Dull is +the one thing that real Saints can never be, or they would stop being +Saints that very minute. Even when Saints are doing the dullest, +dreariest, most difficult tasks, they themselves are always packed +full of sunshine inside that cannot help streaming out over the dull +part and making it interesting.</i></p> + +<p><i>This is one thing to remember about Saints; but there are many other +things to discover. See if you can find out some of them in the +stories that follow.</i></p> + +<p><i>Only a few Saint stories are written here. You will read for +yourself, by and by, many others: stories of older Saints, and perhaps +of brighter Saints, or it may be even of saintlier Saints than these. +But in this book are written the stories of some of the Saints who did +not know that they were Saints at all: they thought that they were +just quite ordinary men and women and little children, and that makes +them rather specially comforting to us, who are just quite ordinary +people too.</i></p> + +<p><i>Moreover, these Quaker Saints never have <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>been, never will be put on +glass windows, or given birthdays or haloes or emblems of their own, +like most of the other Saints. They have never even had their stories +told before in a way that it is easy for children to understand.</i></p> + +<p><i>That is why these particular stories have been written now, in this +particular book</i></p> + +<p class="cen2">FOR YOU.</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="I_STIFF_AS_A_TREE" id="I_STIFF_AS_A_TREE"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>I. 'STIFF AS A TREE, PURE AS A BELL'<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'I am plenteuous in ioie in all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +oure tribulacione.'<span class="fakesc">—ST. +PAUL</span> (Wiclif's +Translation).</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Stand firm like a smitten anvil +under the blows of a hammer; be +strong as an athlete of God, it is +part of a great athlete to receive +blows and to +conquer.'<span class="fakesc">—IGNATIUS</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'He was valiant for the truth, +bold in asserting it, patient in +suffering for it, unwearied in +labouring in it, steady in his +testimony to it, immoveable as a +rock.'<span class="fakesc">—T. ELLWOOD</span> +about <span class="fakesc">G. FOX</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'George Fox never lost his +temper—he left that to his +opponents: and he had the most +exasperating way of getting the +best of an argument. His Journal +... is like a little rusty gate +which opens right into the heart +of the 17th Century, so that when +we go in by it—hey presto! we +find ourselves pilgrims with the +old Quaker in the strangest kind +of England.'<span class="fakesc">—L.M. +MACKAY</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'And there was never any +persecution that came but we saw +it was for good, and we looked +upon it to be good as from +<span class="fakesc">GOD</span>. And there was +never any prisons or sufferings +that I was in, but still it was +for bringing multitudes more out +of prison.'<span class="fakesc">—G. FOX</span>.</i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>I. 'STIFF AS A TREE, PURE AS A BELL'</h3> +<br /> + +<p>When the days are lengthening in the spring, even though the worst of +the winter may be over, there is often a sharp tooth in the March wind +as it sweeps over the angry sea and bites into the north-eastern coast +of England.</p> + +<p>Children, warm and snug in cosy rooms, like to watch the gale and the +damage it does as it hurries past. It amuses them to see the wind at +its tricks, ruffling up the manes of the white horses far out at sea, +blowing the ships away from their moorings in the harbour, and playing +tricks upon the passers-by, when it comes ashore. Off fly stout old +gentlemen's hats, round like windmills go the smart ladies' skirts and +ribbons; even the milkman's fingers turn blue with cold. It is all +very well for children, safe indoors, to laugh at the antics of the +mischievous wind, even on the bleak north-eastern coast nowadays; but +in times long ago, that same wind could be a more cruel playfellow +still. Come back with me for two hundred and fifty years. Let us watch +the tricks the wind is playing on the prisoners in the castle high up +on Scarborough cliff in the year of our Lord 1666.</p> + +<p>Though the keen, cutting blast is the same, a very different +Scarborough lies around us from the Scarborough modern children know. +There is a much smaller town close down by the water's edge, and a +much larger castle covering nearly the whole of the cliff.</p> + +<p>Nowadays, when children go to Scarborough for <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span>their holidays in the +summer, as they run down the steep paths with their spades and buckets +to dig on the beach, they are too busy to pay much attention to the +high cliff that juts out against the sky above the steep red roofs of +the old town. But if they do look up for a moment they notice a pile +of grey stones at the very top of the hill. 'Oh, that is the old +ruined castle,' they say to themselves; and then they forget all about +it and devote themselves to the important task of digging a new castle +of their own that shall not crumble into ruins in its turn, as even +sand castles have an uncomfortable way of doing, if they are +unskilfully made.</p> + +<p>Those children are only modern children. They have not gone back, as +you and I are trying to do, two hundred and fifty long years up the +stream of time. If we are really to find out what Scarborough looked +like then, we must put on our thinking caps and flap our fancy wings, +and, shutting our eyes very tight, not open them again until that +long-ago Scarborough is really clear before us. Then, looking up at +the castle, what shall we see? The same hill of course, but so covered +with stately buildings that we can barely make out its outline. +Instead of one old pile of crumbling stones, roofless, doorless, +windowless, there is a massive fortress towering over us, ringed round +with walls and guarded with battlements and turrets. High above all +stands the frowning Norman Keep, of which only some of the thick outer +stones remain to-day. Scarborough Castle was a grand place, and a +strong place too, in the seventeenth century.</p> + +<p>In order to reach it, then as now, it was necessary <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>to climb the long +flights of stone steps that stretch up from the lower town near the +water's edge to the high, arched gateway upon the Castle Hill. We will +climb those steps, only of course the stones were newer and cleaner +then, and less worn by generations of climbing feet. Up them we mount +till we reach the gateway with its threatening portcullis, where the +soldiers of King Charles the Second, in their jackboots, are walking +up and down on guard, determined to keep out all intruders. Intruders +we certainly are, seeing that we belong to another generation and +another century. There is no entrance at that gateway for us. Yet +except through that gateway there is no way into the castle, and all +the windows on this side are high up in the walls, and barred and +filled with strong thick glass.</p> + +<p>Now let us go round to the far side of the cliff where the castle +overlooks the sea. Here the fortress still frowns above us; but lower +down, nearer our level, we can see some holes and caves scooped out of +the solid rock, through which the wind blows and shrieks eerily. As +these caves can only be reached by going through the castle, some of +the prisoners are kept here for safety. The windows have no glass. +They are merely holes in the rock, open to fog and snow and bitter +wind. Another hole in the cliff does duty for a chimney after a +fashion, but even if the prisoners are allowed to light a fire they +are scarcely any warmer, for the whole cave becomes filled with smoke. +And now we must flap our fancy wings still more vigorously, until +somehow we stand outside one of those prison holes, scooped out of the +cliff, and can look down and see what is to be seen inside it.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>There is only one man in this particular prison cave, and what is he +doing? Is he moving about to keep himself warm? At first he seems to +be, for he walks from side to side without a moment's rest. Every now +and then he stretches his arm out of the window, apparently throwing +something away. He is certainly ill. His body and legs are badly +swollen, and there are great lumps in the places where his joints and +knuckles ought to be. Well then, if he is ill, why does he not lie +still in bed and rest and get well? For even in this wretched +cave-room there is something that looks like a bed in one corner. It +has no white sheets or soft blankets, but still it has four legs and a +sort of coverlet, and at least the prisoner could rest upon it, which +would be better for him than dancing about. Look again! The bed stands +under a gaping hole in the roof, and a stream of water is dripping +steadily down upon it. The coarse coverings must be soaked through +already, and the hard mattress too. It is really less like a bed than +a damp and nasty little pond. No wonder the prisoner does not choose +to lie there. But then, why not move the bed somewhere else? And what +is that round thing like a platter in his hand, and what is he doing +with it? Is he playing 'Turn the Trencher' to keep himself warm?</p> + +<p>Look again! How could he move the bed? He is in a tiny cave, and all +its walls are leaky. The bed must stand in that particular corner +because there is nowhere else that it could be placed. Now look down +at the floor. Notice how uneven it is, and the big pools of water +standing on it, and then you will understand what the prisoner is +doing. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>Indeed he is not playing 'Turn the Trencher'; he is trying to +scoop up some of the water in that shallow platter, because he has +nothing else in the room that will hold it. If he can do this fast +enough, and can manage to pour enough of the water away out of one of +the holes in the walls, he may be able to keep himself from being +flooded out, and thus he may preserve one little dry patch of floor, +dry enough for his swollen feet to stand on, till the storm is over. +But it is like trying to bale water out of a very leaky boat; for +always faster than he can scoop it up and pour it away, more rain +comes pouring in steadily, dripping and drenching. The wind shrieks +and whistles and the prisoner is numb with cold.</p> + +<p>What a wicked man he must be, to be punished by being put in this +dreadful place! Certainly, if he has committed some dreadful crime, he +has found a terrible punishment. But does he look wicked? See, at last +he is too stiff and weary to move about any longer. In spite of the +rain and the wind he sinks down exhausted upon a rickety chair and +draws it to the spot where there is the best chance of a little +shelter. There he sits in silence for some time. He is soaked to the +skin, as well as tired and stiff and hungry. There is a small mug by +the door, but it is empty and there is not a sign of food. Some bitter +water to drink and a small piece of bread are all the food he has had +to-day, and that is all gone now, for it was so very little. In this +place a small threepenny loaf of bread has sometimes to last for three +weeks. This poor man must be utterly miserable and wretched. But is +he? Let us watch him.</p> + +<p>Do you think he can be a wicked man after all? <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>Is not the prisoner +being punished through some dreadful mistake? He looks kind and good, +and, stranger still, he looks happy, even through all his sufferings +in this horrible prison. His face has a sort of brightness in it, like +the mysterious light there is sometimes to be seen in a dark sky, +behind a thunderstorm. A radiance is about him too as if, in spite of +all he is enduring, he has some big joy that shines through everything +and makes it seem worth while.</p> + +<p>He is actually 'letting the sunlight through,' even in this dismal +place. Any one who can do that must be a very real and a very big +saint indeed. We must just find out all that we can about him. Let us +take a good look at him now, while we have the chance. Then we shall +know him another time, when we meet him again, having all sorts of +adventures in all sorts of places. It is impossible to see his eyes, +as he sits by the bed, for they are downcast, but we can see that he +has a long, nearly straight nose, and lips tightly pressed together. +His hair is parted and hangs down on each side of his head, stiff and +lank now, owing to the wet, but in happier days it must have hung in +little curls round his neck, just below his ears. He is a tall man, +with a big strong-looking body. In spite of the coarse clothes he +wears, there is a strange dignity about him. You feel something +drawing you to him, making you want to know more about him.</p> + +<p>You feel somehow as if you were in the presence of some one who is +very big, and that you yourself are very small, smaller perhaps than +you ever felt in your life. Yet you feel ready to do anything for him, +and, at the same time, you believe that, if only <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>you could make him +know that you are there, he would be ready to do anything for you. +Even in this wretched den he carries himself with an air of authority, +as if he were accustomed to command. Now, at last he is looking up; +and we can see his eyes. Most wonderful eyes they are! Eyes that look +as if they could pierce through all sorts of disguises, and read the +deepest secrets of a man's heart. They are kind eyes too; and look as +if they could be extraordinarily tender at times. They are something +like a shepherd's eyes, as if they were accustomed to gazing out far +and wide in search of strayed sheep and lost lambs. Yet they are also +like the eyes of a Judge; thoroughly well able to distinguish right +from wrong. It would be terrible to meet those eyes after doing +anything the least bit crooked or shabby or untrue. They look as if +they would know at the first glance just how much excuses were worth; +and what was the truth. No wonder that once, when those eyes fell on a +man who was arguing on the wrong side, he felt ashamed all of a sudden +and cried out in terror: 'Do not pierce me so with thine eyes! Keep +thine eyes off me!' Another time when this same prisoner was reasoning +with a crowd of people, who did not agree with him, they all cried out +with one accord: 'Look at his eyes, look at his eyes!' And yet another +time when he was riding through an angry mob, in a city where men were +ready to take his life, they dared not touch him. 'Oh, oh,' they +cried, 'see, he shines! he glisters!'</p> + +<p>Then what happened next? We do not want to look at the prisoner in +fancy any longer. We want really to know about him: to hear the +beginnings <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>and endings of those stories and of many others. And that +is exactly what we are going to do. The prisoner is going to tell us +his own true story in his own real words. There is no need for our +fancy wings any longer. They may shrivel up and drop off unheeded. For +that prisoner is <span class="fakesc">GEORGE FOX</span>, and he belongs to English +history. He has left the whole story of his life and adventures +written in two large folio volumes that may still be seen in London. +The pages are so old and the edges have worn so thin in the two +hundred and fifty years since they were written, that each page has +had to be most carefully framed in strong paper to keep it from +getting torn. The ink is faded and brown, and the writing is often +crabbed and difficult to read. But it can be read, and it is full of +stories. In olden times, probably, the book was bound in a brown +leather cover, but now, because it is very old and valuable, it has +been clothed with beautiful red leather, on which is stamped in gold +letters, the title:</p> + +<p class="cen2">GEORGE FOX'S JOURNAL.</p> + +<p>Now let us open it at the right place, and, before any of the other +stories, let us hear what the writer says about that dismal prison in +Scarborough Castle: how long he stayed there, and how he was at last +set free.</p> + +<p>'One day the governor of Scarborough castle, Sir Jordan Crosland, came +to see me. I desired the governor to go into my room and see what a +place I had. I had got a little fire made in it, and it was so filled +with smoke that when they were in it they could hardly find their way +out again.... I told him <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>I was forced to lay out about fifty +shillings to stop out the rain, and keep the room from smoking so +much. When I had been at that charge and had made it somewhat +tolerable, they removed me into a worse room, where I had neither +chimney nor fire hearth.'</p> + +<p>(This last is the room in the castle cliff that is still called +'George Fox's prison,' where we have been standing in imagination and +looking in upon him. We will listen while he describes it again, so as +to get accustomed to his rather old-fashioned English.)</p> + +<p>'This being to the sea-side and lying much open, the wind drove in the +rain forcibly, so that the water came over my bed, and ran about the +room, that I was fain to skim it up with a platter. And when my +clothes were wet, I had no fire to dry them; so that my body was +benumbed with cold, and my fingers swelled, that one was grown as big +as two. Though I was at some charge in this room also, yet I could not +keep out the wind and rain.... Afterwards I hired a soldier to fetch +me water and bread, and something to make a fire of, when I was in a +room where a fire could be made. Commonly a threepenny loaf served me +three weeks, and sometimes longer, and most of my drink was water, +with wormwood steeped or bruised in it.... As to friends I was as a +man buried alive, for though many came far to see me, yet few were +suffered to come to me.... The officers often threatened that I should +be hanged over the wall. Nay, the deputy governor told me once, that +the King, knowing that I had a great interest in the people, had sent +me thither, that if there should be any stirring in the nation, they +should hang me over the wall to keep the people down. A while after +they talked <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>much of hanging me. But I told them that if that was what +they desired and it was permitted them, I was ready; for I never +feared death nor sufferings in my life, but I was known to be an +innocent, peaceable man, free from all stirrings and plottings, and +one that sought the good of all men. Afterwards, the Governor growing +kinder, I spoke to him when he was going to London, and desired him to +speak to Esquire Marsh, Sir Francis Cobb, and some others, and let +them know how long I had lain in prison, and for what, and he did so. +When he came down again, he told me that Esquire Marsh said he would +go a hundred miles barefoot for my liberty, he knew me so well; and +several others, he said, spoke well of me. From which time the +Governor was very loving to me.</p> + +<p>'There were among the prisoners two very bad men, who often sat +drinking with the officers and soldiers; and because I would not sit +and drink with them, it made them the worse against me. One time when +these two prisoners were drunk, one of them (whose name was William +Wilkinson, who had been a captain), came in and challenged me to fight +with him. I seeing what condition he was in, got out of his way; and +next morning, when he was more sober, showed him how unmanly a thing +it was in him to challenge a man to fight, whose principle he knew it +was not to strike; but if he was stricken on one ear to turn the +other. I told him that if he had a mind to fight, he should have +challenged some of the soldiers, that could have answered him in his +own way. But, however, seeing he had challenged me, I was now come to +answer him, with my hands in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>my pockets: and, reaching my head +towards him, "Here," said I, "here is my hair, here are my cheeks, +here is my back." With that, he skipped away from me and went into +another room, at which the soldiers fell a-laughing; and one of the +officers said, "You are a happy man that can bear such things." Thus +he was conquered without a blow.</p> + +<p>'... After I had lain a prisoner above a year in Scarborough Castle, I +sent a letter to the King, in which I gave him an account of my +imprisonment, and the bad usage I had received in prison; and also I +was informed no man could deliver me but he. After this, John +Whitehead being at London, and being acquainted with Esquire Marsh, +went to visit him, and spoke to him about me; and he undertook, if +John Whitehead would get the state of my case drawn up, to deliver it +to the master of requests, Sir John Birkenhead, and endeavour to get a +release for me. So John Whitehead ... drew up an account of my +imprisonment and sufferings and carried it to Marsh; and he went with +it to the master of requests, who procured an order from the King for +my release. The substance of this order was that the King, being +certainly informed, that I was a man principled against plotting and +fighting, and had been ready at all times to discover plots, rather +than to make any, therefore his royal pleasure was, that I should be +discharged from my imprisonment. As soon as this order was obtained, +John Whitehead came to Scarborough with it and delivered it to the +Governor; who, upon receipt thereof, gathered the officers together, +... and being satisfied that I was a man of peaceable life, he +discharged me freely, and gave me <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>the following passport:—</p> + +<p>'"Permit the bearer hereof, <span class="fakesc">GEORGE FOX</span>, 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.<span class="fakesc">—JORDAN CROSLAND</span>, +Governor of Scarborough Castle."</p> + +<p>'After I was released, I would have made the Governor a present for +his civility and kindness he had of late showed me; but he would not +receive anything; saying "Whatever good he could for me and my +friends, he would do it, and never do them any hurt." ... He continued +loving unto me unto his dying day. The officers also and the soldiers +were mightily changed, and became very respectful to me; when they had +occasion to speak of me they would say, "<span class="fakesc">HE IS AS STIFF AS A +TREE, AND AS PURE AS A BELL; FOR WE COULD NEVER BOW HIM</span>."'</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="II_PURE_FOY_MA_JOYE" id="II_PURE_FOY_MA_JOYE"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>II. 'PURE FOY, MA JOYE'<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Outwardly there was little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +resemblance between George Fox and +Francis of Assisi, between the +young Leicestershire Shepherd of +the <span class="fakesc">XVII</span>th Century and +the young Italian merchant of the +<span class="fakesc">XIII</span>th, but they both +felt the power of <span class="fakesc">GOD</span> +and yielded themselves wholly to +it: both left father and mother +and home: both defied the opinions +of their time: both won their way +through bitter opposition to solid +success: both cast themselves +"upon the infinite love of +<span class="fakesc">GOD</span>": both were most +truly surrendered souls; but +Francis submitted himself to +established authority, Fox only to +the spirit of <span class="fakesc">GOD</span> +speaking in the single soul.'</i></p> + +<p class="noin"><i>'In solitude and silence Fox found +<span class="fakesc">GOD</span> and heard Him. He proclaimed +that the Kingdom of <span class="fakesc">GOD</span> +is the Kingdom of a living Spirit +Who holds converse with His +people.'<span class="fakesc">—BISHOP +WESTCOTT</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Some place their religion in +books, some in images, some in the +pomp and splendour of external +worship, but some with illuminated +understandings hear what the Holy +Spirit speaketh in their +hearts'<span class="fakesc">—THOMAS À +KEMPIS</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Lord, when I look upon mine own +life it seems Thou hast led me so +carefully, so tenderly, Thou canst +have attended to none else; but +when I see how wonderfully Thou +hast led the world and art leading +it, I am amazed that Thou hast had +time to attend to such as +I.'<span class="fakesc">—AUGUSTINE</span>.</i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>II. 'PURE FOY, MA JOYE'</h3> +<br /> + +<p>'He is stiff as a tree and pure as a bell, and we could never bow +him.' So spoke the rough soldiers of Scarborough Castle of their +prisoner, George Fox, after he had been set at liberty. A splendid +thing it was for soldiers to say of a prisoner whom they had held +absolutely in their power. But a tree does not grow stiff all at once. +It takes many years for a tiny seedling to grow into a sturdy oak. A +bell has to undergo many processes before it gains its perfect form +and pure ringing note. And a whole lifetime of joys and sorrows had +been needed to develop the 'stiffness' (or steadfastness, as we should +call it now) and purity of character that astonished the soldiers in +their prisoner. There will not be much story in this history of George +Fox's early days, but it is the foundation-stone on which most of the +later stories will be built.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p>It was in July 1624, the last year in which James the First, King of +England, ruled in his palace at Whitehall, that far away in a quiet +Leicestershire village their first baby was born to a weaver and his +wife. They lived in a small cottage with a thatched roof and wooden +shutters, in a village then known as 'Drayton-in-the-Clay,' because of +the desolate waters of the marshlands that lay in winter time close +round the walls of the little hamlet. Even though the fens and marshes +have now long ago been drained and turned into fertile country, the +village is still called 'Fenny Drayton.' The weaver's name was +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>Christopher Fox. His wife's maiden name had been Mary Lago; and the +name they gave to their first little son was George.</p> + +<p>Mary Lago came 'of the stock of the martyrs': that is to say, either +her parents or her grand-parents had been put to death for their +faith. They had been burnt at the stake, probably, in one of the +persecutions in the reign of Queen Mary. From her 'martyr stock' Mary +Lago must have learned, when she was quite a little girl, to worship +God in purity of faith. Later on, after she had become the mother of +little George, it was no wonder that her baby son sitting on her knee, +looking up into her face, or listening to her stories, learned from +the very beginning to try to be 'Pure as a Bell.'</p> + +<p>Mary Lago's husband, Christopher Fox, did not come 'of the stock of +the martyrs,' but evidently he had inherited from his ancestors plenty +of tough courage and sturdy sense. Almost the only story remembered +about him is that one day he stuck his cane into the ground after +listening to a long dispute and exclaimed: 'Now I see that if a man +will but stick to the truth it will bear him out.'</p> + +<p>When little George grew old enough to scramble down from his mother's +knee and to walk with unsteady steps across the stone-flagged floor of +the cottage, there was his weaver father sitting at his loom, making a +pleasant rhythmic sound that filled the small house with music. As the +boy watched the skilful hands sending the flying shuttle in and out +among the threads, he learned from his father, not only the right way +to weave good reliable stuff, but also how to weave the many coloured +threads of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>everyday life into a strong character. The village +people called his father 'Righteous Christer,' which shows that he too +must have been 'stiff as a tree' in following what he knew to be +right; for a name like that is not very easily earned where village +eyes are sharp and village tongues are shrewd.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep036" id="imagep036"></a> +<a href="images/imagep036.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep036.jpg" width="50%" alt="THE BOYHOOD OF GEORGE FOX" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">THE BOYHOOD OF GEORGE FOX<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>Less than a mile from the weaver's cottage stood the Church and the +Manor House side by side. The churchyard had a wall of solid red +bricks, overshadowed by a border of solemn old yew-trees. The Manor +House was encircled by a moat on which graceful white swans swam to +and fro. For centuries the Purefoy family had been Squires of Drayton +village. They had inhabited the Manor House while they were alive, and +had been buried in the churchyard close by after they were dead. The +present Squire was a certain <span class="fakesc">COLONEL GEORGE PUREFOY</span>. It may +have been after him that 'Righteous Christer' called his eldest son +George, or it may have been after that other George, 'Saint George for +Merrie England,' whose image killing the Dragon was to be seen +engraved on each rare golden 'noble' that found its way to the +weaver's home. Christopher and Mary Fox were both of them possessed of +more education than was usual among country people at that time, when +reading and writing were still rare accomplishments. 'Righteous +Christer' was an important man in the small village. Besides being a +weaver, he was also a churchwarden, and was able to sign his own name +in bold characters, as may still be seen to-day in the parish +registers, where his fellow-churchwarden, being unable to read or +write, was only able to sign his name with a cross. Unfortunately this +same <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>register, which ought to record the exact day of July 1624 on +which little George was baptized here in the old church, no longer +mentions him, since, more than a hundred years after his time, the +wife of the Sexton of Fenny Drayton, running short of paper to cover +her jam-pots, must needs lay hands on the valuable Church records and +tear out a few priceless pages just here. So, although several other +brothers and sisters followed George and came to live in the weaver's +cottage during the next few years, we know none of their ages or +birthdays, until we come to the record of the baptism of the youngest +sister Sarah. Happily her page came last of all, after the Sexton's +jam was finished, and thus Sarah's name escaped being made into the +lid of a jam-pot. But we will hope that the weaver and his wife +remembered and kept all their children's birthdays on the right days, +even though they are forgotten now. However that may have been, +George's parents 'endeavoured to train him up, as they did their other +children, in the common way of worship—his mother especially being +eminent for piety: but even from a child he was seen to be of another +frame of mind from his brethren, for he was more religious, retired, +still and solid, and was also observing beyond his age. His mother, +seeing this extraordinary temper and godliness, which so early did +shine through him, so that he would not meddle with childish games, +carried herself indulgent towards him.... Meanwhile he learned to read +pretty well, and to write as much as would serve to signify his +meaning to others.'</p> + +<p>When he saw older people behaving in a rowdy, frivolous way, it +distressed him, and the little boy <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span>used to say to himself: 'If ever I +come to be a man, surely I will not be so wanton.'</p> + +<p>'When I came to eleven years of age,' he says himself in his Journal, +'I knew pureness and righteousness; for while I was a child I was +taught how to walk so as to be kept pure, and to be faithful in two +ways, both inwardly to God, and outwardly to man, and to keep to Yea +and Nay in all things.'</p> + +<p>At that time there was a law obliging everybody to attend Church on +Sundays, and as the services lasted for several hours at a time, the +weaver's children doubtless had time to look about them, and learned +to know the stones of the old church well. When the Squire and his +family were at home they sat in the Purefoy Chapel in the North Aisle. +From this Chapel a door in the wall opened on to a path that led +straight over the drawbridge across the moat to the Manor House. It +must have been interesting for all the village children to watch for +the opening and shutting of that door. But up in the chancel there +was, and still is, something even more interesting: the big tomb that +a certain Mistress Jocosa or Joyce Purefoy had put up to the memory of +her husband, who had died in the days of good Queen Bess.</p> + +<p>'PURE FOY, MA JOYE,' the black letters of the family motto, can still +be read on a marble scroll. If George in his boyhood ever asked his +mother what the French words meant, Mary Fox, who was, we are told, +'accomplished above her degree in the place where she lived,' may have +been able to tell him that they mean, in English, 'Pure faith is my +Joy'; or that, keeping the rhyme, they might be <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>translated as +follows:—</p> + +<p class="cen"><span class="fakesc">'MY FAITH PURE, MY JOY SURE.'</span></p> + +<p class="noin">Then remembering what had happened in her own family, surely she would +add, 'And I, who come of martyr stock, know that that is true. Even if +you have to suffer for it, my son, even if you have to die for it, +keep your Faith pure, and your Joy will be sure in the end.'</p> + +<p>Then Righteous Christer would take the little lad up on his shoulder +and show him the broken spear above the tomb, the crest of the +Purefoys, and tell him its story. Hundreds of years before, one of the +Squires of this family had defended his liege lord on the battle-field +at the risk of his own life, and even after his weapon, a spear, had +been broken in his hand. His lord, out of gratitude for this, had +given his faithful follower, not only the right to wear the broken +spear in token of his valour ever after as a crest, but also by his +name and by his motto to proclaim to all men the <span class="fakesc">PURE FAITH</span> +(<span class="fakesc">PUREFOY</span>) that had given him this sure and lasting joy. +Ever since, for hundreds of years, the Purefoy family had handed down, +by their name, by their motto, and by the broken spear on their crest, +this noble tradition of loyalty and allegiance—enshrined like a +shining jewel in the centre of the muddy village of +Drayton-in-the-Clay.</p> + +<p>This was not the only battle story the boy must have known well. A few +miles from Fenny Drayton is 'the rising ground of Market Bosworth,' +better known as Bosworth Field. As he grew older George loved to +wander over the fields that surrounded his birthplace. He 'must have +often passed the site <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>of Henry's camp, perhaps may have drunk +sometimes at the well at which Richard is said to have quenched his +thirst.' But although his home was near this old battlefield, the boy +grew up in a peaceful England. Probably no one in Fenny Drayton +imagined that in a very few years the smiling English meadows would +once more be drenched in blood. George Fox in his country home was +brought up to follow country pursuits, and was especially skilful in +the management of sheep. He says in his Journal: 'As I grew up, my +relations thought to have made me a priest, but others persuaded to +the contrary. Whereupon I was put to a man who was a shoemaker by +trade, and dealt in wool. He also used grazing and sold cattle; and a +great deal went through my hands. While I was with him he was blest, +but after I left him, he broke and came to nothing. I never wronged +man or woman in all that time.... While I was in that service, I used +in my dealings the word "Verily," and it was a common saying among +those that knew me, "if George says Verily, there is no altering him." +When boys and rude persons would laugh at me, I let them alone, but +people generally had a love to me for my innocence and honesty.</p> + +<p>'When I came towards 19 years of age, being upon business at a Fair, +one of my cousins, whose name was Bradford, a professor, having +another professor with him, asked me to drink part of a jug of beer +with them. I, being thirsty, went with them, for I loved any that had +a sense of good. When we had drunk a glass apiece, they began to drink +healths and called for more drink, agreeing together that he that +would not drink should pay for all. I was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>grieved that they should do +so, and putting my hand into my pocket took out a groat and laid it on +the table before them, saying, "If it be so, I will leave you." So I +went away, and when I had done my business I returned home, but did +not go to bed that night, nor could I sleep, but sometimes walked up +and down and prayed and cried unto the Lord, who said to me: "Thou +must forsake all, young and old, keep out of all and be a stranger to +all."</p> + +<p>'Then at the command of God, the 9th of the 7th month,<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> 1643, I left +my relations, and broke off all familiarity or fellowship with young +or old.'</p> + +<p>The old-fashioned English of the 'Journal' makes this story rather +puzzling at the first reading, because several words have changed in +meaning since it was written. The name 'professors,' did not then mean +learned men who teach or lecture in a University, but any men who +'professed' to be particularly religious and good. These +'professionally religious people' are generally known as 'the +Puritans,' and it was meeting with these bad specimens among them who +'professed' a religion they did not attempt to practise, that so +dismayed George Fox. Here at any rate 'Pure Faith' was not being kept +either to God or men. He must find a more solid foundation on which to +rest his own soul's loyalty and allegiance. Over the porch of the +Church at Fenny Drayton is painted now, not the Purefoy motto, but the +words: 'I will go forth in the strength of the Lord God.' It was from +this place that George Fox set forth on the long search for a 'Pure +Faith' that, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>when he found it, was to bring both to him and to many +thousands of his countrymen a 'Sure Joy.'</p> + +<p>Why Righteous Christer and his wife did not help George more at this +time remains a puzzle. They may have been afraid lest he was making a +terrible mistake in leaving the worship they knew and followed, or +they may have guessed that God was really calling him to do some work +for Him bigger than they could understand, and may have felt that they +could help their boy best by leaving him free to follow the Voice that +spoke to him in the depths of his own heart, even if he had to fight +his own battles unaided. Or possibly their thoughts were too full of +all the actual battles that were filling the air just then to think +any other troubles important. For our Quaker Saints are not legendary +people; they are a real part of English History.</p> + +<p>All through the years of George's boyhood the struggle between King +Charles the First and his Parliament had been getting more tense and +embittered. The abolition of the Star Chamber (May 1640), the +attempted arrest of the five Members (October 1642), the trial and +death, first of Strafford (May 1641) and then of Laud (January +1645)—all these events had been convulsing the great heart of the +English nation during the long years while young George had been +quietly keeping his master's sheep and cattle in his secluded +Leicestershire village.</p> + +<p>A year before he left home the long-dreaded Civil War had at last +broken out. But the Civil War that broke out in the soul of the young +shepherd lad, the struggle between good and evil when he saw his +Puritan cousin tempting other people to drink <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>and carouse, was to him +a more momentous event than all the outward battles that were raging. +His Journal hardly mentions the rival armies of King and Parliament +that were marching through the land. Yet in reading of his early +struggles in his own spirit, we must always keep in the background of +our minds the thought of the great national struggle that was raging +at the same time. It was not in the orderly, peaceful, settled England +of his earliest years that the boy grew to manhood, but in an England +that was being torn asunder by the rival faiths and passions of her +sons. Men's minds were filled with the perplexities of great national +problems of Church and State, of tyranny and freedom. No wonder that +at such a time everyone was too busy to spare much sympathy or many +thoughts for the spiritual perplexities of one obscure country lad.</p> + +<p>Right into the very middle, then, of this troubled, seething England, +George Fox plunged when he left his home at Fenny Drayton. The battle +of Marston Moor was fought the following year, July 1644, and Naseby +the summer after that. But George was not heeding outward battles. Up +and down the country he walked, seeking for help in his spiritual +difficulties from all the different kinds of people he came across; +and there were a great many different kinds. The England of that day +was not only torn by Civil War, it was also split up into innumerable +different sects, now that the attempt to force everyone to worship +according to one prescribed fashion was at length being abandoned. In +one small Yorkshire town it is recorded that there were no less than +forty of these sects worshipping in different ways about this <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>time, +while new sects were continually arising.</p> + +<p>Perhaps it was a generous wish to give the professors another chance +and not to judge the whole party from the bad specimens he had met, +that made George go back to the Puritans for help. At first they made +much of the young enquirer; but, alas! they all had the same defect as +those he had met already. Their spoken profession sounded very fine, +but they did not carry it out in their lives.</p> + +<p>'They sought to be acquainted with me, but I was afraid of them, for I +was sensible they did not possess what they professed.' In other +words, their faith did not ring true. The professors were certainly +not 'Pure as a Bell.'</p> + +<p>George Fox's test was always the same, both for his own religion and +other people's: 'Is this faith real? Is it true? Can you actually live +out what you profess to believe? And do you? Is your faith pure? Is +your joy sure?'</p> + +<p>Finding that, in the case of the professors, a sorrowful 'No' was the +only answer that their lives gave to these questions, George says: 'A +strong temptation to despair came over me. I then saw how Christ was +tempted, and mighty troubles I was in. Sometimes I kept myself retired +in my chamber, and often walked solitary in the Chace to wait upon the +Lord.'</p> + +<p>It must not be forgotten that part of the Puritan worship consisted in +making enormously long prayers in spoken words, and preaching sermons +that lasted several hours at a time. George Fox became more and more +sure that this was not the worship God wanted from him, as he thought +over these <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>matters in solitude under the trees of Barnet Chace.</p> + +<p>After a time he went back to his relations in Leicestershire. They saw +the youth was unhappy, and very naturally thought it would be far +better for him to settle down and have a happy home of his own than to +go wandering about the country in distress about the state of his +soul.</p> + +<p>'Being returned into Leicestershire, my relations would have had me +married; but I told them I was but a lad and must get wisdom.' Other +people said: 'No, don't marry him yet. Put him into the auxiliary band +among the soldiery. Once he gets fighting, that will soon knock the +notions out of his head.'</p> + +<p>Young George would not consent to this plan either. He had his own +battle to fight, his own victory to win, unaided and alone. He did not +yet know that it was useless for him to seek for outward help. Being +still only a lad of nineteen he thought that surely there must be +someone among his elders who could help him, if only he could find out +the right person. Having failed with the professors, he determined +next to consult the priests and see if they could advise him in his +perplexities. 'Priests' is another word that has changed its meaning +almost as much as 'professors' has done. By 'priests' George Fox does +not mean Anglican or Roman Catholic clergy, but simply men of any +denomination who were paid for preaching. At this particular time the +English Rectories and Vicarages were mostly occupied by Presbyterians +and Independents. It was they who preached and who were paid for +preaching in the village churches, which is what he means by <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>calling +them 'priests' in his Journal.</p> + +<p>In these stories there is no need to think of George Fox as arguing or +fighting against real Christianity in any of the churches. He was +fighting, rather, against sham religion, formality and hypocrisy +wherever he found them. In that great fight all who truly love Truth +and God are on the same side, even though they are called by different +names. So remember that these old labels that he uses for his +opponents have changed their meaning very considerably in the three +hundred years that have passed since his birth. Remember too that the +world had had at that time nearly three hundred years less in which to +learn good manners than it has now. The manners and customs of the day +were much rougher than those of modern times. However much we may +disagree with people, there is no need for us to tell them so in the +same sort of harsh language that was too often used by George Fox and +his contemporaries.</p> + +<p>To these Presbyterian priests, therefore, George went next to ask for +counsel and help. The first he tried was the Reverend Nathaniel +Stephens, the priest of his own village of Fenny Drayton. At first +Priest Stephens and young George seemed to get on very well together. +Another priest was often with Stephens, and the two learned men would +often talk and argue with the boy, and be astonished at the wise +answers he gave. 'It is a very good, full answer,' Stephens once said +to George, 'and such an one as I have not heard.' He applauded the boy +and spoke highly of him, and even used the answers he gave in his own +sermons on Sundays. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>This was a compliment, but it cost him George's +friendship and respect, because he felt it was a deceitful practice. +The Journal says: 'What I said in discourse to him on week-days, he +would preach of on first days, which gave me a dislike to him. This +priest afterwards became my great persecutor.'</p> + +<p>Priest Stephens' wife was also very much opposed to Fox, and it is +said that on one occasion she 'very unseemly plucked and haled him up +and down, and scoffed and laughed.' Fox always felt that this priest +and his wife were his bitter foes; but other people described Priest +Stephens as 'a good scholar and a useful preacher, in his younger days +a very hard student, in his old age pleasant and cheerful.' So, as +generally happens, there may have been a friendly side to this couple +for those who took them the right way.</p> + +<p>After this, Fox continues, 'I went to another ancient priest at +Mancetter in Warwickshire, and reasoned with him about the ground of +despair and temptations; but he was ignorant of my condition; he bade +me take tobacco and sing psalms. Tobacco was a thing I did not love, +and psalms I was not in a state to sing; I could not sing. Then he bid +me come again and he would tell me many things; but when I came he was +angry and pettish; for my former words had displeased him. He told my +troubles, sorrows and griefs to his servants so that it got among the +milk-lasses. It grieved me that I should have opened my mind to such a +one. I saw they were all miserable comforters, and this brought my +troubles more upon me. Then I heard of a priest living about Tamworth, +which was accounted <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span>an experienced man, and I went seven miles to +him; but I found him like an empty hollow cask. I heard also of one +called Dr. Craddock of Coventry, and went to him. I asked him the +ground of temptations and despair, and how troubles came to be wrought +in man? He asked me, "Who was Christ's Father and Mother?" I told him +Mary was His Mother, and that He was supposed to be the son of Joseph, +but He was the Son of God. Now, as we were walking together in his +garden, the alley being narrow, I chanced, in turning, to set my foot +on the side of a bed, at which the man was in a rage, as if his house +had been on fire. Thus all our discourse was lost, and I went away in +sorrow, worse than I was when I came. I thought them miserable +comforters, and saw they were all as nothing to me; for they could not +reach my condition. After this I went to another, one Macham, a priest +in high account. He would needs give me some physic, and I was to have +been let blood; but they could not get one drop of blood from me, +either in arms or head (though they endeavoured to do so), my body +being, as it were, dried up with sorrows, grief and troubles, which +were so great upon me that I could have wished I had never been born, +or that I had been born blind, that I might never have seen wickedness +or vanity; and deaf, that I might never have heard vain and wicked +words, or the Lord's name blasphemed. When the time called Christmas +came, while others were feasting and sporting themselves, I looked out +poor widows from house to house, and gave them some money. When I was +invited to marriages (as I sometimes was) I went to none at <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>all, but +the next day, or soon after, I would go to visit them; and if they +were poor, I gave them some money; for I had wherewith both to keep +myself from being chargeable to others, and to administer something to +the necessities of those who were in need.'</p> + +<p>Three years passed in this way, and then at last the first streaks of +light began to dawn in the darkness. They came, not in any sudden or +startling way, but little by little his soul was filled with the hope +of dawn:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0a">Silently as the morning<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Comes on when night is done,<br /></span> +<span class="i0a">Or the crimson streak, on ocean's cheek,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Grows into the great sun.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>He says, 'About the beginning of the year 1646, as I was going into +Coventry, a consideration arose in me how it was said, "All Christians +are believers, both Protestants and Papists," and the Lord opened to +me, that if all were believers, then they were all born of God, and +were passed from death unto life, and that none were true believers +but such, and though others said they were believers, yet they were +not.'</p> + +<p>Possibly George Fox was looking up at the 'Three Tall Spires' of +Coventry when this thought came to him, and remembering in how many +different ways Christians had worshipped under their shadow: first the +Latin Mass, then the order of Common Prayer, and now the Puritan +service. 'At another time,' he says, 'as I was walking in a field on a +first day morning, the Lord opened to me "That being bred at Oxford or +Cambridge was not enough to fit <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>and qualify men to be ministers of +Christ:" and I wondered at it because it was the common belief of +people. But I saw it clearly as the Lord had opened it to me, and was +satisfied and admired the goodness of the Lord, who had opened the +thing to me this morning.... So that which opened in me struck I saw +at the priests' ministry. But my relations were much troubled that I +would not go with them to hear the priest; for I would go into the +orchard or the fields with my Bible by myself.... I saw that to be a +true believer was another thing than they looked upon it to be ... so +neither them nor any of the dissenting people could I join with.</p> + +<p>'At another time it was opened in me, "That God who made the world did +not dwell in temples made with hands." This at the first seemed +strange, because both priests and people used to call their temples or +churches dreadful places, holy ground and the temples of God. But the +Lord showed me clearly that He did not dwell in these temples which +men had made, but in people's hearts.'</p> + +<p>In this way George Fox had found out for himself three of the +foundation truths of a pure faith:—</p> + +<div class="block3"><p class="hang">1st. That all Christians are believers, Protestants and Papists +alike.</p> + +<p class="hang">2nd. That Christ was come to teach His people Himself.</p> + +<p class="hang">3rd. That the Temple in which God wishes to dwell is in the +hearts of His children.</p></div> + +<p>Now that George Fox was sure of these three things, it troubled him +less if he was with people whose beliefs he could not share.</p> + +<p>The first set of people he came among believed <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>that women had no +souls, 'no more than a goose has a soul' added one of them in a light, +jesting tone. George Fox reproved them and told them it was a wrong +thing to say, and added that Mary in her song said, 'My soul doth +magnify the Lord, My spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour,' so she +must have had a soul. George by this time had learned to know his +Bible so well in the long quiet hours out of doors, when it had been +his only companion, that it was easy to him to find the exact +quotation he wanted in an argument. It was said of him, later on, by +wise and learned men, that if the Bible itself were ever to be lost it +might almost be found again in the mouth of George Fox, so well did he +know it.</p> + +<p>The next set of people he came to were great dreamers. They guided +their lives in the daytime according to the dreams they had happened +to dream during the night. And I should think a fine mess they must +have made of things! George helped these dreamers to know more of +realities, till, later on, many of them came out of their dream-world +and became Friends.</p> + +<p>After this at last he came upon a set of people who really did seem to +understand him and to care for the same things that he did. They were +called 'Shattered Baptists,' because they had broken off from the +other Baptists in the neighbourhood who 'did the Lord's work +negligently' and did not act up to what they professed. This was the +very same fault that had driven George forth from among the professors +at the beginning of his long quest. It is easy to imagine that he and +these people were happy <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>together. 'With these,' he says, 'I had some +meetings and discourses, but my troubles continued and I was often +under great temptations. I fasted much, walked abroad in solitary +places many days, and often took my Bible and sat in hollow trees and +lonesome places till night came on, and frequently in the night walked +about by myself.... O the everlasting love of God to my soul, when I +was in great distress! when my troubles and torments were great, then +was His love exceeding great.... When all my hopes in all men were +gone so that I had nothing outwardly to help me, nor could I tell what +to do, then, O then, I heard a Voice which said, "There is one, even +Christ Jesus, that can speak to thy condition." When I heard it, my +heart did leap for joy.'</p> + +<p>This message was like the rising of the sun to George Fox. The long +night of darkness was over now, the sun had risen, and though there +might be clouds and storms ahead of him still he had come out into the +full clear light of day.</p> + +<p>'My desires after the Lord grew stronger,' he writes, 'and zeal in the +pure knowledge of God and of Christ alone, without the help of any +man, book, or writing.... Then the Lord gently led me along and let me +see His love which was endless and eternal, surpassing all the +knowledge that men have in the natural state or can get by history and +books. That love let me see myself as I was without him.... At another +time I saw the great love of God, and was filled with admiration at +the infiniteness of it.'</p> + +<p>The truths that George Fox is trying to express are difficult to put +into words. It is the more difficult for us to understand what he +means because <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>his language is not quite the same as ours. Other words +besides 'priest' and 'professor' have altered their meanings. When he +speaks of having had things 'opened' to him, we should be more likely +to say he had had them revealed to him, or had had a revelation. +Perhaps these 'openings' and 'seeings' that he describes, though they +meant much to him, do not sound to us now like very great discoveries. +They are only what we have been accustomed to hear all our lives. But +then, whom have we to thank for that? In large measure George Fox +himself.</p> + +<p>In the immense bush forests that cover an unexplored country or +continent the first man who attempts to make a track through them has +the hardest task. He has to guess the right direction, to cut down the +first trees, to 'blaze a trail,' to help every one who follows him to +find the way a little more easily. That man is called a Pioneer. +George Fox was a pioneer in the spiritual world. He discovered a true +path for himself, a path leading right through the thick forest of +human selfishness and sin and out into the bright sunshine beyond. In +his lonely Quest through those years of struggle he was indeed +'blazing a trail' for us. If the track we tread nowadays is smooth and +easy to tread, that is because of the pioneers who have gone before +us. Our ease has been gained through their labours and sufferings and +steadfastness.</p> + +<p>The track was not fully clear even yet to George Fox. He had more to +learn before he could make the right path plain to others; more to +learn, but chiefly more to suffer. To strengthen him <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>beforehand for +those sufferings, he was given an assurance that never afterwards +entirely left him. 'I saw the Infinite Love of God. I saw also that +there was an ocean of darkness and death; but an infinite ocean of +light and love which flowed over the ocean of darkness. In that also I +saw the infinite love of God, and I had great openings.' The Quest was +ended. Faith was pure, and Joy was sure at last.</p> + +<p>'Now was I come up in spirit, through the flaming sword, into the +Paradise of God. All things were made new, and all the creation gave +another smell to me beyond what words can utter. I knew nothing but +pureness, innocency, and righteousness, being renewed up to the image +of God by Christ Jesus.... Great things did the Lord lead me into, and +wonderful depths were opened to me, beyond what can by words be +declared; but as people come into subjection by the Spirit of God, and +grow up in the Image and Power of the Almighty they may receive the +word of wisdom that opens all things, and come to know the hidden +unity in the Eternal Being.'</p> + +<p>'Thus travelled I in the Lord's service, as He led me.'</p> + +<br /> +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<br /> + +<h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> The 7th month would be September, because the years then +began with March.</p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span><br /> +<a name="III_THE_ANGEL_OF_BEVERLEY" id="III_THE_ANGEL_OF_BEVERLEY"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>III. THE ANGEL OF BEVERLEY<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'To instruct young lasses and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +maidens in whatever things was +useful in the creation.'<span class="fakesc">—R. +ABRAHAM.</span></i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'It was the age of long +discourses and ecstatic +exercises.'<span class="fakesc">—MORLEY'S +CROMWELL.</span></i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'George Fox's preaching, in those +early years, chiefly consisted of +some few, but powerful and +piercing words, to those whose +hearts were already in some +measure prepared to be capable of +receiving this +doctrine.'<span class="fakesc">—SEWEL'S +HISTORY.</span></i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'But at the first convincement +when friends could not put off +their hats to people, nor say you +to a particular but thee and thou; +and could not bowe nor use the +world's fashions nor customs ... +people would not trade with them +nor trust them ... but afterwards +people came to see friends honesty +and truthfulness.'<span class="fakesc">—G. +FOX.</span></i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'The light which shows us our +sins is that which heals +us.'<span class="fakesc">—G. FOX.</span></i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'<span class="fakesc">GOD</span> works +slowly.'<span class="fakesc">—BISHOP +WESTCOTT.</span></i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>III. THE ANGEL OF BEVERLEY</h3> +<br /> + +<p>Among all the children of Drayton village who watched eagerly for the +door to open into the Purefoy Chapel on Sundays, when the Squire's +family were at home, none watched for it more intently than blue-eyed +Cecily, the old huntsman's granddaughter. Cecily's parents were both +dead, and she lived with her grandfather in one of the twin lodges +that guarded the Manor gates. Old Thomas had fought at the Squire's +side abroad in years gone by. Now, aged and bent, he, too, watched for +that door to open, as he sat in his accustomed place in the church +with Cecily by his side. Old Thomas's eyes followed his master +lovingly, when Colonel Purefoy entered, heading the little +procession,—a tall, erect, soldierly-looking man, though his hair was +decidedly grey, and grey too was the pointed beard that he still wore +over a small ruff, in the fashion of the preceding reign.</p> + +<p>Close behind him came his wife. The village people spoke of her as +'Madam,' since, although English born, and, indeed, possessed of +considerable property in her own native county of Yorkshire, she was +attached to the Court of Queen Henrietta Maria, and had caught +something of the foreign grace of her French mistress.</p> + +<p>But it was the two children for whose coming Cecily waited most +eagerly, as they followed their parents. Edward Purefoy, the heir, a +tall, handsome boy, came in first, leading by the hand his dainty +little sister <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>Jocosa, who seemed too fairy-like to support the +stately family name, and who was generally known by its shorter form +of Joyce.</p> + +<p>Last of all came a portly waiting-maid, carrying a silky-haired +spaniel on a cushion under each arm. These petted darlings, King +Charles' own special favourites, were all the rage at Court at this +time, and accompanied their masters and mistresses everywhere, even to +church, where—fortunate beings—they were allowed to slumber +peacefully on cushions at their owners' feet throughout the long +services, when mere human creatures were obliged at any rate to +endeavour to keep awake.</p> + +<p>Cecily had no eyes to spare, even for the pet-dogs, on the eventful +Sunday when the Squire and his family first appeared again at church +after an unusually long absence. For there was little Mistress Jocosa, +all clad in white satin, like a princess in a fairy tale, and as +pretty as a picture. And so the great Court painter, Sir Anthony +Vandyck, must have thought, seeing he had chosen to paint her portrait +and make a picture of her himself in this same costume, with its +stiff, straight, shining skirt, tight bodice, pointed lace collar, and +close-fitting transparent cap that covered, but could not hide, the +waves of dark crisp hair. When Cecily discovered that a string of +pearls was clasped round the other little girl's neck, she gave a long +gasp of delight, a gasp that ended in an irrepressible sigh. For, a +moment later, this dazzling vision, with its dancing eyes, delicate +features, and glowing cheeks, was lost to sight. All through the +remainder of the service it stayed hidden in the depths of the high +old family pew, whence nothing could be seen save <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>the top of the +Squire's silver head, rising occasionally, like an erratic half moon, +over the edge of the dark oak wood.</p> + +<p>Not another glimpse was to be had of the white satin princess; there +was no one to look at but the ordinary village folk whom Cecily could +see every day of her life: young George Fox, for instance, the +Weaver's son, who was staring straight before him as usual, paying not +the smallest heed to the entrance of all these marvellous beings. +Fancy staring at the marble tomb erected by a long dead Lady Jocosa, +and never even noticing her living namesake of to-day, with all her +sparkles and flushes! Truly the Weaver's son was a strange lad, as the +whole village knew.</p> + +<p>A strange boy indeed, Joyce Purefoy thought in her turn, as, passing +close by him on her way out of church, she happened to look up and to +meet the steady gaze of the young eyes that were at the same time so +piercing and yet so far away. She could not see his features clearly, +since the sun, pouring in through a tall lancet window behind him, +dazzled her eyes. Yet, even through the blurr of light, she felt the +clear look that went straight through and found the real Joyce lying +deep down somewhere, though hidden beneath all the finery with which +she had hoped to dazzle the village children.</p> + +<p>Late that same evening it was no fairy princess but a contrite little +girl who approached her mother's side at bed-time.</p> + +<p>'Forgive me, mother mine, I did pick just a few cherries from the tree +above the moat,' she whispered hesitatingly 'I was hot and they were +juicy. Then, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>when you and my father crossed the bridge on our way to +church and asked me had I taken any, I,—no—I did not exactly forget, +but I suppose I disremembered, and I said I had not had one.'</p> + +<p>'Jocosa!' exclaimed her mother sternly: 'What! You a Purefoy and my +daughter, yet not to be trusted to tell the truth! For the cherries, +they are a small matter, I gave you plenty myself later, but to lie +about even a trifle, it is that, that I mind.'</p> + +<p>The little girl hung her head still lower. 'I know,' she said, 'it was +shameful. Yet, in truth, I did confess at length.'</p> + +<p>'True,' answered her mother, 'and therefore thou art forgiven, and +without a punishment; only remember thy name and take better heed of +thy Pure Faith another time. What made thee come and tell me even +now?'</p> + +<p>'The sight of the broken spear in church,' stammered the little girl. +'That began it, and then I partly remembered....'</p> + +<p>She got no further. Even to her indulgent mother (and Madam Purefoy +was accounted an unwontedly tender parent in those days), Joyce could +not explain how it was, that, as the glance from those grave boyish +eyes fell upon her, out of the sunlit window, her 'disremembering' +became suddenly a weight too heavy to be borne.</p> + +<p>Jocosa Purefoy never forgot that Sunday, or her childish fault.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p>The visits of the Squire and his family to the old Manor House were +few and far between. The estates in Yorkshire that Madam Purefoy had +brought to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span>her husband on her marriage were the children's real home. +It was several years after this before Cecily saw her fairy princess +again. The next glimpse was even more fleeting than their appearance +in church, just a mere flash at the lodge gates as Jocosa and her +brother cantered past on their way out for a day's hunting. Old +Thomas, sitting in his arm-chair in the sun, looked critically and +enviously at the man-servant who accompanied them. 'Too young—too +young,' he muttered. His own hunting days were long past, but he could +not bear, even crippled with rheumatism as he was, that any one but +he, who had taught their father to sit a horse, should ride to hounds +with his children.</p> + +<p>Cecily had some envious thoughts too. 'I should like very well to wear +a scarlet riding-dress and fur tippet, and a long red feather in my +hat, and go a-hunting on old Snowball, instead of having to stop at +home and take care of grandfather and mind the house.'</p> + +<p>After she had closed the heavy iron gates with a clang, she pressed +her nose between the bars and looked wistfully along the straight +road, carried on its high causeway above the fens, down which the gay +riders were swiftly disappearing.</p> + +<p>But, in spite of envious looks, the gaiety of the day was short-lived. +During the very first run, Snowball put her foot into a rabbit-hole, +and almost came down. 'Lamed herself, sure enough,' said the +man-servant grimly. No more hunting for Snowball that day. The best +that could be hoped was that she might be able to carry her little +mistress's light weight safely home, at a walking pace, over the few +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>miles that separated them from Drayton. Joyce could not return alone, +and Edward would not desert his sister, though he could not repress a +few gloomy remarks on the homeward way.</p> + +<p>'To lose such a splendid dry day at this season! Once the weather +breaks and the floods are out, there will be no leaving the Manor +House again for weeks, save by the causeway over the fens!'</p> + +<p>Thus it was a rather melancholy trio that returned slowly by the same +road over which the ponies' feet had scampered gaily an hour or two +before.</p> + +<p>When the chimneys of Drayton were coming in sight, a loud 'Halloo' +made the riders look round. A second fox must have led the hunt back +in their direction after all. Sure enough, a speck of ruddy brown was +to be seen slinking along beneath a haystack in the distance. Already +the hounds were scrambling across the road after him, while, except +for the huntsman, not a solitary rider was as yet to be seen anywhere.</p> + +<p>The temptation was too strong for Edward. The brush might still be +his, if he were quick.</p> + +<p>'We are close at home. You will come to no harm now, sister,' he +called. Then, raising his whip, he was off at a gallop, beckoning +peremptorily to the groom to follow him. Not without a shade of +remorse for deserting his little mistress, the man-servant obediently +gave Snowball's bridle to Joyce, and set spurs to his horse. Then, as +he galloped away, he salved his conscience with the reflection that +'after all, young Master's neck is in more danger than young Missie's, +now home is in sight.'</p> + +<p>Joyce, left alone, dismounted, in order to lead Snowball herself on +the uneven road across the fens. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>It was difficult to do this +satisfactorily, owing to the pony's lameness, and her long, clinging +skirt, over which she was perpetually tripping. Therefore, looking +down over the hedgeless country for someone to help her, it was with +real relief that she caught sight of a tall youth close at hand, in a +pasture where sheep and cattle were grazing. All her life Joyce was +accustomed to treat the people she met with the airs of a queen. +Therefore, 'Hey! boy,' she called imperiously, 'come and help me! +quick!'</p> + +<p>She had to call more than once before the youth looked up, and when he +did, at first he made no motion in response. Then, seeing that the +pony really was limping badly, and that the little lady was obviously +in difficulty, and was, moreover, a very little lady still, in spite +of her peremptory tones, he changed his mind. Striding slowly towards +her, he rather reluctantly closed the book he had been reading, and +placed it in his pocket. Then, without saying a single word, he put +out his hand and taking Snowball's bridle from Joyce he proceeded to +lead the pony carefully and cleverly over the stones.</p> + +<p>The silence remained unbroken for a few minutes: the lad buried in his +own thoughts, grave, earnest and preoccupied; the dainty damsel, her +skirt held up now, satisfactorily, on both sides, skipping along, with +glancing footsteps, as she tried to keep up with her companion's +longer paces, and at the same time to remember why this tall, silent +boy seemed to her vaguely familiar. She could not see his face, for it +was turned towards Snowball, and Joyce herself scarcely came up to her +companion's elbow.</p> + +<p>They passed a cottage, set back at some distance <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span>from the road and +half hidden by a cherry-tree with a few late leaves upon it, crimsoned +by the first touch of November frost. A cherry-tree! The old memory +flashed back in a moment.</p> + +<p>'I know who you are,' exclaimed Joyce, 'even though you don't speak a +word. And I know your name. You are Righteous Christer the Weaver's +son, and you are called George, like my father. You have grown so big +and tall I did not know you at first, but now I do. Where do you +live?'</p> + +<p>The boy pointed in the direction of the cottage under the cherry-tree. +The gentle whirr of the loom stole through the window as they +approached.</p> + +<p>'And I have seen you before,' Joyce went on, 'a long time ago, the +last time we were here, on Sunday. It was in church,' she concluded +triumphantly.</p> + +<p>'Aye, in yon steeple-house,' answered her companion moodily, and with +no show of interest. 'Very like.' His eyes wandered from the thatched +roof of the cottage to where, high above the tall old yew-trees, a +slender spire pointed heavenward.</p> + +<p>Joyce laughed at the unfamiliar word. 'That is a church, not a +steeple-house,' she corrected. 'Of course it has a steeple, but +wherefore give it such a clumsy name?'</p> + +<p>Her companion made no reply. He seemed absorbed in a world of his own, +though still leading the pony carefully.</p> + +<p>Joyce, piqued at having her presence ignored even by a village lad, +determined to arouse him. 'Moreover, I have heard Priest Stephens +speak of you to my father,' she went on, with a little pin-prick of +emphasis on each word, though addressing her <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>remarks apparently to no +one in particular, and with her dainty head tilted in the air.</p> + +<p>Her companion turned to her at once. 'What said the Priest?' he +enquired quickly.</p> + +<p>'The Priest said, "Never was such a plant bred in England before!" +What his words meant I know not—unless he was thinking of the proverb +of certain plants that grow apace,' she added maliciously, looking up +with a gleam of fun at the tall figure beside her. 'And my father said....'</p> + +<p>Colonel Purefoy's remark was not destined to be revealed, for they had +reached the tall gateway by this time. Old Thomas, seeing his little +mistress approaching, accompanied only by the Weaver's son, and with +Snowball obviously damaged, had hobbled to meet them in spite of his +rheumatics. Close at hand was Cecily, brimful of excitement at the +sight of her fairy princess actually stopping at their own cottage +door. The tall youth handed the pony's bridle to the old man, and was +departing with evident relief, when a clear, imperious voice stopped +him—</p> + +<p>'Good-bye and good-day to you, Weaver's son, and thanks for your aid,' +said Jocosa, like a queen dismissing a subject.</p> + +<p>The tall figure looked down upon the patronizing little lady, as if +from a remote height. 'Mayest thou verily fare well,' he said, almost +with solemnity, and then, without removing his hat or making any +gesture of respect, he turned abruptly and was gone.</p> + +<p>'A strange boy,' Joyce said to herself a few minutes later as she +stood on the stone bridge that crossed the moat in front of the Manor +House. 'I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>did not like him; in fact I rather disliked him—but I +should like to see him again and find out what he meant by his +"steeple-house" and "verily."'</p> + +<p>Cecily, left behind at the Lodge, very happy because her fairy +princess had actually thrown her a smile as she passed, was still +following the distant figure on the bridge with wistful eyes, as Joyce +busily searched her pockets for a few stray crumbs with which to feed +the swans in the moat. The scarlet riding-dress, glossy tippet, and +scarlet feather in the big brown hat were all faithfully reflected in +the clear water below, except where the swans interrupted the vivid +picture with dazzling snowy curves and orange webbed feet.</p> + +<p>More critical eyes than Cecily's were also watching Joyce. High up on +the terrace, where a few late roses and asters were still in bloom, +two figures were leaning over the stone parapet, looking down over the +moat. 'A fair maiden, indeed,' a voice was saying, in low, polished +tones. The next moment the sound of her own name made the girl look +up. There, coming towards her, at the very top of the flight of +shallow stone steps that led from the terrace to the low stone bridge, +she saw her father, and with him a stranger, dressed, not like Colonel +Purefoy, in a slightly archaic costume, but in the very latest fashion +of King Charles's Court at Whitehall.</p> + +<p>'My father come home already! and a stranger with him! What an unlucky +chance after the misadventure of the morning!'</p> + +<p>Throwing her remaining crumbs over the swans in a swift shower, Joyce +made haste up the stone steps, to greet the two gentlemen with the +reverence <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>always paid by children to their elders in those days.</p> + +<p>Somewhat to her surprise, her father bent down and kissed her cheek. +Then, taking her hand, he led her towards the stranger, and presented +her very gravely. 'My daughter, Jocosa: my good friend, Sir Everard +Danvers.' 'Exactly as if I had been a grown-up lady at Court,' thought +Joyce, delighted, with the delight of thirteen, at her own unexpected +importance. Her father had never paid her so much attention before. +Well, at least he should see that she was worthy of it now. And Joyce +dropped her lowest, most formal, curtsey, as the stranger bowed low +over her hand. To curtsey at the edge of a flight of steps, and in a +clinging riding skirt, was an accomplishment of which anyone might be +proud. Was the stranger properly impressed? He appeared grave enough, +anyhow, and a very splendid figure in his suit of sky-blue satin, +short shoulder cape, and pointed lace collar. He was a strikingly +handsome man, of a dark-olive complexion, with good features, and +jet-black hair; but strangely enough, the sight of him made Joyce turn +back to her father, feeling as if she had never understood before the +comfort of his quiet, familiar face. Even the old-fashioned ruff gave +her a sense of home and security. She would tell him about the +morning's disasters now after all. But Colonel Purefoy's questions +came first. 'How now, Jocosa, and wherefore alone? My daughter rides +with her brother in my absence,' he added, turning to his companion.</p> + +<p>'Father,—Snowball,...' began Joyce bravely, her colour rising as she +spoke.</p> + +<p>'Talk not of snowballs,' interrupted Sir Everard <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>gallantly, 'it may +be November by the calendar, but here it is high summer yet, with +roses all abloom.' He pointed to her crimsoning cheeks.</p> + +<p>They quickly flushed a deeper crimson, evidently to the stranger's +amusement. 'Why here comes Maiden's Blush, Queen of all the Roses' he +went on, in a teasing voice. Then, turning to Colonel Purefoy, 'By my +faith, Purefoy,' he said, 'my scamp of a nephew is a lucky dog.'</p> + +<p>Joyce's bewilderment increased. What did it all mean? Was he +play-acting? Why did they both treat her so? The stranger's +punctilious politeness had flattered her at first, but, since the +mocking tone stole into his voice she felt that she hated him, and +looked round hoping to escape. Sir Everard was too quick for her. In +that instant he had managed to possess himself of her hand, and now he +was kissing it with exaggerated homage and deference, yet still with +that mocking smile that seemed to say—'Like it, or like it not, +little I care.'</p> + +<p>Joyce had often seen people kiss her mother's hand, and had thought, +as she watched the delightful process, how much she should enjoy it, +when her own turn came. She knew better now: it was not a delightful +process at all, it was simply hateful. A new Joyce suddenly woke up +within her, a frightened, angry Joyce, who wanted to run away and +hide. All her new-born dignity vanished in a moment. Scarcely waiting +for her father's amused permission: 'There then, maiden, haste to thy +mother: she has news for thee'—she flew along the terrace and in at +the hall door. As she fled up the oak staircase that led to her +mother's withdrawing-room, she vainly tried to shut <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>her ears to the +sounds of laughter that floated after her from the terrace below.</p> + +<p>Madam Purefoy was seated, half hidden behind her big, upright +embroidery frame, in one of the recesses formed by the high, deeply +mullioned windows. Thin rays of autumn sunshine filled the tapestried +room with pale, clear light. There was no possibility of mistaking the +colours of the silks that lay in their varied hues close under her +hand. Why, then, had this skilful embroideress deliberately threaded +her needle with a shade of brilliant blue silk? Why was she carefully +using it to fill in a lady's cheek without noticing, apparently, that +anything was wrong? Yet, at the first sound of Joyce's light footfall +on the stairs she laid down her needle and listened, and held out her +arms, directly her daughter appeared, flushed and agitated, in the +doorway, waiting for permission to enter.</p> + +<p>Mothers were mothers, it seems, even in the seventeenth century. In +another minute Joyce was in her arms, pouring out the whole history of +the morning. By this time Snowball's lameness had faded behind the +remembrance of the encounter on the terrace.</p> + +<p>'Who is that man, mother? A courtier, I know, since he wears such +beautiful clothes. But wherefore comes he here? I thought I liked him, +until he kissed my hand and laughed at me, and then I detested him. I +hope I shall never see him again.' And she hid her face.</p> + +<p>Before speaking, Mistress Purefoy left her seat and carefully closed +the casement, in order that their voices might not reach the ears of +anyone on the terrace below. Then, taking Joyce on her knee as <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>if she +had been still a child, she explained to her that the stranger, Sir +Everard Danvers, was a well-known and favourite attendant of the +Queen's. 'And it is by her wish that he comes hither for thee, +Mignonne.'</p> + +<p>'For me?' Joyce grew rosier than ever; 'I am too young yet to be a +Maid of Honour as thou wert in thy girlhood. What does her Majesty +know about me?' she questioned.</p> + +<p>'Only that thou art my daughter, and that she is my very good friend. +Her Majesty knows also that, in time, thou wilt inherit some of my +Yorkshire estates; and therefore she hath sent Sir Everard to demand +thy hand in marriage for his nephew and ward, the young Viscount +Danvers, whose property marches with ours. Moreover, seeing that the +times are unsettled, her Majesty hath signified her pleasure that not +a mere betrothal, but the marriage ceremony itself, shall take place +as soon as possible in the Chapel Royal at St. James's, since the +young Viscount, thy husband to be, is attached to her suite as a +page.'</p> + +<p>'But I am not fourteen yet,' faltered Joyce, ''tis full soon to be +wed.' A vista of endless court curtseys and endless mocking strangers +swam before her eyes, and prevented her being elated with the prospect +that would otherwise have appeared so dazzling.</p> + +<p>Her mother stifled a sigh. 'Aye truly,' she replied, 'thy father and I +have both urged that. But her Majesty hath never forgotten the French +fashion of youthful marriages, and is bent on the scheme. She says, +with truth, that thou must needs have a year or two's education after +thy marriage for the position thou wilt have in future to fill at +Court, and 'tis better to have the contract settled first.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>Education! To be married at thirteen might be a glorious thing, but to +be sent back, a bride, for a year or two of education thereafter was a +dismal prospect.</p> + +<p>That night there were tears of excitement and dismay on the pillow of +the Viscountess-to-be as she thought of the alarming future. Yet she +woke up, laughing, in the morning sunlight, for she had dreamt that +she was fastening a coronet over her brown hair.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p>The wedding festivities a few weeks later left nothing to be desired. +Day after day Joyce found herself the caressed centre of a brilliant +throng that held but one disappointing figure—her boy bridegroom. 'He +has eyes like a weasel, and a nose like a ferret,' was the bride's +secret criticism, when the introduction took place. But, after all, +the bridegroom was one of the least important parts of the wedding: +far less important than the Prince of Wales, who led her out to dance, +and whom she much preferred: far less important also than the +bridegroom's cousin, Abigail, a bold, black-eyed girl who took +country-bred Joyce under her protection at once, and saved her from +many a mistake. Abigail was already at the school to which Joyce was +to be sent. She herself was betrothed, though not as yet married, to +my Lord Darcy, and was therefore able to instruct Joyce herself in +many of the needful accomplishments of her new position.</p> + +<p>The school days that followed were not unhappy ones, since, far better +than their books, both girls loved their embroidery work and other +'curious and ingenious manufactures,' especially the new and +fashionable employment of making samplers, which <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>had just been +introduced. But when, in a short time, the Civil Wars broke out, their +peaceful world collapsed like a house of cards. The 'position' of the +young Viscountess and her husband vanished into thin air. One winter +at Court the young couple spent together, it is true, when the King +and Queen were in Oxford, keeping state that was like a faint echo of +Whitehall.</p> + +<p>All too soon the fighting began again. In one of the earliest battles +young Lord Danvers was severely wounded and sent home maimed for life. +His days at Court and camp were over. Summoning his wife to nurse him, +he returned to his estate near Beverley in Yorkshire, where the next +few years of Joyce's life were spent, to her ill-concealed +displeasure.</p> + +<p>Her husband's days were evidently numbered, and as he grew weaker, he +grew more exacting. Patience had never been one of Joyce's strong +points, and, though she did her best, time often dragged, and she +mourned the cruel fate that had cast her lot in such an unquiet age. +Instead of wearing her coronet at Court, here she was moping and mewed +up in a stiff, puritanical countryside.</p> + +<p>After the triumph of the Parliamentarians, things grew worse. It would +have gone hard with the young couple had not a neighbour of theirs, of +much influence with the Protector, one Justice Hotham, made +representations as to the young lord's dying state and so ensured +their being left unmolested.</p> + +<p>Justice Hotham was a fatherly old man with a genius for understanding +his neighbours, especially young people. He was a good friend to +Joyce, and perpetually urged her to cherish her husband while <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>he +remained with her. Judge then of the good Justice's distress, when, +one fine day, a note was brought to him from his wilful neighbour to +say that she could bear her lot no longer, that her dear friend +Abigail, Lady Darcy, was now on her way to join the Queen in France, +and had persuaded Joyce to leave her husband and accompany her +thither.</p> + +<p>The Justice looked up in dismay: a dismay reflected on the face of the +waiting-woman to whom Joyce had entrusted her confidential letter. +This was a certain blue-eyed Cecily, now a tall and comely maiden, who +had followed her mistress from her old home at Drayton-in-the-Clay.</p> + +<p>'She must be stopped,' said the good Judge. 'Spending the night with +Lady Darcy at the Inn at Beverley is she, sayest thou? And thou art to +join her there? Hie thee after her then, and delay her at all costs. +Plague on this gouty foot that ties me here! Maiden, I trust in thee +to bring her home.'</p> + +<p>Cecily needed no second bidding. 'She will not heed me. No mortal man +or woman can hinder my lady, once her mind is made up. Still I will do +my best,' was her only answer to the Judge; while 'It would take an +angel to stop her! May Heaven find one to do the work and send her +home, or ever my lord finds out that she has forsaken him,' she prayed +in the depths of her faithful heart.</p> + +<p>Was it in answer to her prayer that the rain came down in such +torrents that for two days the roads were impassable? Cecily was +inclined to think so. Anyhow, Joyce and Abigail, growing tired of the +stuffy inn parlour while the torrents descended, and having nothing to +do, seeing that the day was the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>Sabbath, and therefore scrupulously +observed without doors in Puritan Beverley, strolled through the +Minster, meaning to make sport of the congregation and its ways +thereafter. The sermon was long and tedious, but it was nearing its +end as they entered. At the close a stranger rose to speak in the body +of the Church, a tall stranger, who stood in the rays of the sun that +streamed through a lancet window behind him. His first words arrested +careless Joyce, though she paid small heed to preaching as a rule.</p> + +<p>More than the words, something vaguely familiar in the tones of the +voice and the piercing gaze that fell upon her out of the flood of +sunlight, awoke in her the memory of that long ago Sunday of her +childhood, of her theft of the cherries, of her 'disremembering,' and +then of her mother's words, 'You, a Purefoy, to forget to be worthy of +your name.'</p> + +<p>Alas! where was her Pure Faith now? The preacher seemed to be speaking +to her, to her alone: yet, strangely enough, to almost every heart in +that vast congregation the message went home. Did the building itself +rock and shake as if filled with power? The real Joyce was reached +again: the real Joyce, though hidden now under the weight of years of +self-pleasing, a heavier burden than any childish finery. Certainly +reached she was, though Lady Darcy preserved through it all her +cynical smile, and made sport of her friend's earnestness. +Nevertheless Lady Darcy went to France alone. Lady Danvers returned to +her husband—too much accustomed to be left alone, poor man, to have +been seriously disquieted by her absence. For the remainder of his +short life his wife did her best to tend him dutifully. But <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span>she did +leave him for an hour or two the day after her return, in order to go +and throw herself on her knees beside kind old Justice Hotham, and +confess to him how nearly she had deserted her post.</p> + +<p>'And then what saved you?' enquired the wise old man, smoothing back +the wavy hair from the wilful, lovely face that looked up to him, +pleading for forgiveness.</p> + +<p>'I think it was an angel,' said Joyce simply—'an angel or a spirit. +It rose up in Beverley Minster: it preached to us of the wonderful +things of God: words that burned. The whole building shook. Afterwards +it passed away.'</p> + +<p>Little she guessed that George Fox, the Weaver's son, the Judge's +guest, seated in a deep recess of the long, panelled library, was +obliged to listen to every word she spoke. Joyce never knew that the +angel who had again enabled her to keep her 'Faith pure' was no +stranger to her. Neither did it occur to him, whose thoughts were ever +full of weightier matters than wilful woman's ways, that he had met +this 'great woman of Beverley,' as he calls her, long before.</p> + +<p>Only waiting-maid Cecily, who had prayed for an angel; Cecily, who had +recognised the Weaver's son the first moment she saw him at the inn +door; Cecily who had found in him, also, the messenger sent by God in +answer to her prayer—wise Cecily kept silence until the day of her +death.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p>George Fox says in his Journal:</p> + +<p>'I was moved of the Lord to go to Beverley steeple-house, which was a +place of high profession. Being very wet with rain, I went first to an +inn. As soon <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>as I came to the door, a young woman of the house said, +"What, is it you? Come in," as if she had known me before, for the +Lord's power bowed their hearts. So I refreshed myself and went to +bed. In the morning, my clothes being still wet, I got ready, and, +having paid for what I had, went up to the steeple-house where was a +man preaching. When he had done, I was moved to speak to him and to +the people in the mighty power of God, and turned them to their +teacher, Christ Jesus. The power of the Lord was so strong that it +struck a mighty dread among the people. The Mayor came and spoke a few +words to me, but none had power to meddle with me, so I passed out of +the town, and the next day went to Justice Hotham's. He was a pretty +tender man and had some experience of God's workings in his heart. +After some discourse with him of the things of God he took me into his +closet, where, sitting together, he told me he had known that +principle these ten years, and was glad that the Lord did now send his +servants to publish it abroad among the people. While I was there a +great woman of Beverley came to Justice Hotham about some business. In +discourse she told him that "The last Sabbath day," as she called it, +"an Angel or Spirit came into the church at Beverley and spoke the +wonderful things of God, to the astonishment of all that were there: +and when it had done, it passed away, and they did not know whence it +came or whither it went; but it astonished all, priests, professors +and magistrates." This relation Justice Hotham gave me afterwards, and +then I gave him an account that I had been that day at Beverley +steeple-house and had declared truth to the priest and people there.'</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="IV_TAMING_THE_TIGER" id="IV_TAMING_THE_TIGER"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>IV. TAMING THE TIGER<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'The state of the English law in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +the 17th century with regard to +prisons was worthy of Looking +Glass Land. The magistrates' +responsibility was defined by ... +the justice. "They were to commit +them to prison but not to provide +prisons for them." This duty +devolved upon the gaoler, who was +an autocrat and responsible to no +authority. It frequently happened +that he was a convicted & branded +felon, chosen for the position by +reason of his strength & +brutality. Prisoners were ... +required to pay for this enforced +hospitality, & their first act +must be to make the most +favourable terms possible with +their gaoler landlord or his wife, +for food & lodging.'<span class="fakesc">—M.R. +BRAILSFORD</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'You are bidden to fight with +your own selves, with your own +desires, with your own affections, +with your own reason, and with +your own will; and therefore if +you will find your enemies, never +look without.... You must expect +to fight a great +battle.'<span class="fakesc">—JOHN EVERARD.</span> +1650.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'The real essential battlefield +is always in the heart itself. It +is the victory over ourselves, +over the evil within, which alone +enables us to gain any real +victory over the evil +without.'<span class="fakesc">—E.R. +CHARLES</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'They who defend war, must defend +the dispositions that lead to war, +and these are clean against the +gospel.'<span class="fakesc">—ERASMUS</span>.</i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>IV. TAMING THE TIGER</h3> +<br /> + +<p>Perhaps some boys and girls have said many times since the War began: +'I wish Friends did not think it wrong to fight for their King and +Country. Why did George Fox forbid Quakers to fight for the Right like +other brave men? Is it not right to fight for our own dear England?'</p> + +<p>But did George Fox ever forbid other people to fight? He was not in +the habit of laying down rules for other people, even his own +followers. Let us see what he himself did when, as a young man, he was +faced with this very same difficulty, or an even more perplexing one, +since it was our own dear England itself in those days that was tossed +and torn with Civil War.</p> + +<p>First of all, listen to the story of a man who tamed a Tiger:—</p> + +<p>Far away in India, a savage, hungry Tiger, with stealthy steps and a +yellow, striped skin, came padding into a defenceless native village, +to seek for prey. In the early morning he had slunk out of the Jungle, +with soft, cushioned paws that showed no signs of the fierce nails +they concealed. All through the long, hot day he had lain hidden in +the thick reeds by the riverside; but at sunset he grew hungry, and +sprang, with a great bound, up from his hiding-place. Right into the +village itself he came, trampling down the patches of young, green +corn that the villagers had sown, and that were just beginning to +spring up, fresh and green, around the mud walls of their homes. All +the villagers fled away in terror at <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>the first glimpse of the yellow, +striped skin. The fathers and mothers snatched up their brown babies, +the older children ran in front screaming, 'Tiger! Tiger!' Young and +old they all fled away, as fast as ever they could, into the safest +hiding-places near at hand.</p> + +<p>One man alone, a Stranger, did not fly. He remained standing right in +the middle of the Tiger's path, and fearlessly faced the savage beast. +With a howl of rage, the Tiger prepared for a spring. The man showed +no sign of fear. He never moved a muscle. Not an eyelash quivered. +Such unusual behaviour puzzled the Tiger. What could this strange +thing be, that stood quite still in the middle of the path? It could +hardly be a man. Men were always terrified of tigers, and fled +screaming when they approached. The Tiger actually stopped short in +its spring, to gaze upon this perplexing, motionless Being who knew no +fear. There he stood, perfectly silent, perfectly calm, gazing back at +the Tiger with the look of a conqueror. Several long, heavy minutes +passed. At length the villagers, peeping out from their hiding-places, +looking between the broad plantain leaves or through the chinks of +their wooden huts, beheld a miracle. They saw, to their amazement, the +Tiger slink off, sullen and baffled, to the jungle, while the Stranger +remained alone and unharmed in possession of the path. At first they +scarcely dared to believe their eyes. It was only gradually, as they +saw that the Tiger had really departed not to return, that they +ventured to creep back, by twos and threes first of all, and then in +little timid groups, to where the Stranger stood. Then <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>they fell at +his feet and embraced his knees and worshipped him, almost as if he +had been a god. 'Tell us your Magic, Sahib,' they cried, 'this mighty +magic, whereby you have managed to overcome the Monarch of the Jungle +and tame him to your will.'</p> + +<p>'I know no magic,' answered the Stranger, 'I used no spells. I was +able to overcome this savage Tiger only because I have already learned +how to overcome and tame <span class="fakesc">THE TIGER IN MY OWN HEART</span>.'</p> + +<p>That was his secret. That is the story. And now let us return to +George Fox.</p> + +<p>Think of the England he lived in when he was a young man, the +distracted England of the Civil Wars. Think of all the tiger spirits +of hatred that had been unloosed and that were trampling the land. The +whole country lay torn and bleeding. Some bad men there were on both +sides certainly; but the real misery was that many good men on each +side were trying to kill and maim one another, in order that the cause +they believed to be 'the Right' might triumph.</p> + +<p>'Have at you for the King!' cried the Cavaliers, and rushed into the +fiercest battle with a smile.</p> + +<p>'God with us!' shouted back the deep-voiced Puritans. 'For God and the +Liberties of England!' and they too laid down their lives gladly.</p> + +<p>Far away from all the hurly-burly, though in the very middle of the +clash of arms, George Fox, the unknown Leicestershire shepherd lad, +went on his way, unheeded and unheeding. He, too, had to fight; but +his was a lonely battle, in the silence of his own heart. It was there +that he fought and conquered first of all, there that he tamed his own +Tiger <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>at last—more than that, he learned to find God.</p> + +<p>'One day,' he says in his Journal, 'when I had been walking solitarily +abroad and was come home, I was taken up into the love of God, and it +was opened to me by the eternal light and power, and I therein clearly +saw that all was to be done in and by Christ, and how He conquers and +destroys the Devil and all his works and is atop of him.' He means +that he saw that all the outward fighting was really part of one great +battle, and that to be on the right side in that fight is the thing +that matters eternally to every man.</p> + +<p>Another time he writes: 'I saw into that which was without end, things +which cannot be uttered and of the greatness and infiniteness of the +love of God, which cannot be expressed by words, for I had been +brought through the very ocean of darkness and death, and through and +over the power of Satan by the eternal glorious power of Christ; even +through that darkness was I brought which covered over all the world +and shut up all in the death.... And I saw the harvest white and the +seed of God lying thick in the ground, as ever did wheat that was sown +outwardly, and I mourned that there was none to gather it.'</p> + +<p>When George Fox speaks of the 'seed,' he means the tender spot that +there must always be in the hearts of all men, however wicked, since +they are made in the likeness of God. A tiny, tiny something, the +first stirring of life, that God's Spirit can find and work on, +however deeply it may be buried (like a seed under heavy clods of +earth), if men will only yield to It. In another place he calls this +seed <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>'<span class="fakesc">THAT OF GOD WITHIN YOU</span>.' And it is this tender +growing 'seed' that gets trampled down when fierce angry passions are +unloosed in people's hearts, just as the tender springing corn in the +Indian village was trampled down by the hungry Tiger. George Fox +believed that that seed lay hidden in the hearts of all men, because +he had found it in his own. Everywhere he longed to set that seed free +to grow, and to tame the Tiger spirits that would trample it down and +destroy it. Let us watch and see how he did this.</p> + +<p>One day when he was about twenty-five years old, he heard that some +people had been put in prison at Coventry for the sake of their +religion. He thought that there must be a good crop of seed in the +hearts of those people, since they were willing to suffer for their +faith, so he determined to go and see them. As he was on his way to +the gaol a message came to him from God. He seemed to hear God's own +Voice saying to him, '<span class="fakesc">MY LOVE WAS ALWAYS TO THEE, AND THOU ART IN +MY LOVE</span>.' 'Always to thee.' Then that love had always been round +him, even in his loneliest struggles, and now that he knew that he was +in it, nothing could really hurt him. No wonder that he walked on +towards the gaol with a feeling of new joy and strength. But when he +came to the dark, frowning prison where numbers of men and women were +lying in sin and misery, this joyfulness left him. He says, 'A great +power of darkness struck at me.' The prisoners were not the sort of +people he had hoped to find them. They were a set of what were then +called 'Ranters.' They began to swear and to say wicked things against +God. George Fox sat silent among <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>them, still fastening his mind on +the thought of God's conquering love; but as they went on to say yet +wilder and more wicked things, at last that very love forced him to +reprove them. They paid no attention, and at length Fox was obliged to +leave them. He says he was 'greatly grieved, yet I admired the +goodness of the Lord in appearing so to me, before I went among them.'</p> + +<p>For the time it did seem as if the Tiger spirits had won, and were +able to trample down the living seed. But wait! A little while after, +one of these same prisoners, named Joseph Salmon, wrote a paper +confessing that he was sorry for what he had said and done, whereupon +they were all set at liberty.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, George Fox went on his way, and travelled through 'markets, +fairs, and divers places, and saw death and darkness everywhere, where +the Lord had not shaken them.' In one place he heard that a great man +lay dying and that his recovery was despaired of by all the doctors. +Some of his friends in the town desired George Fox to visit the +sufferer. 'I went up to him in his chamber,' says Fox in his Journal, +'and spake the word of life to him, and was moved to pray by him, and +the Lord was entreated and restored him to health. When I was come +down the stairs into a lower room and was speaking to the servants, a +serving-man of his came raving out of another room, with a naked +rapier in his hand, and set it just to my side. I looked steadfastly +on him and said "Alack for thee, poor creature! what wilt thou do with +thy carnal weapon, it is no more to me than a straw." The standers-by +were much troubled, and he went away in a rage; <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>but when news came of +it to his master, he turned him out of his service.'</p> + +<p>Although that particular man's Tiger spirit had been foiled in its +spring, the man himself had not been really tamed. Perhaps George Fox +needed to learn more, and to suffer more himself, before he could +really change other men's hearts. If so, he had not long to wait.</p> + +<p>Shortly after this, it was his own turn to be imprisoned. He was shut +up in Derby Gaol, and given into the charge of a very cruel Gaoler. +This man was a strict Puritan, and he hated Fox, and spoke wickedly +against him. He even refused him permission to go and preach to the +people of the town, which, strangely enough, the prisoners in those +days were allowed to do.</p> + +<p>One morning, however, Fox was walking up and down in his cell, when he +heard a doleful noise. He stopped his walk to listen. Through the wall +he could hear the voice of the Gaoler speaking to his wife—'Wife,' he +said, 'I have had a dream. I saw the Day of Judgment, and I saw George +there!' How the listener must have wondered what was coming! 'I saw +George there,' the Gaoler continued, 'and I was afraid of him, because +I had done him so much wrong, and spoken so much against him to the +ministers and professors, and to the Justices and in taverns and +alehouses.' But there the voice stopped, and the prisoner heard no +more. When evening came, however, the Gaoler visited the cell, no +longer raging and storming at his prisoner, but humbled and still. 'I +have been as a lion against you,' he said to Fox, 'but now I come like +a lamb, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>or like the Gaoler that came to Paul and Silas, trembling.' +He came to ask as a favour that he might spend the night in the same +prison chamber where Fox lay. Fox answered that he was in the Gaoler's +power: the keeper of the prison of course could sleep in any place he +chose. 'No,' answered the Gaoler, 'I wish to have your permission. I +should like to have you always with me, but not as my prisoner.' So +the two strange companions spent that night together lying side by +side. In the quiet hours of darkness the Gaoler told Fox all that was +in his heart. 'I have found that what you said of the true faith and +hope is really true, and I want you to know that even before I had +that terrible vision, whenever I refused to let you go and preach, I +was sorry afterwards when I had treated you roughly, and I had great +trouble of mind.'</p> + +<p>There had been a little seed of kindness even in this rough Gaoler's +heart. Deeply buried though it was, it had been growing in the +darkness all the time, though no one guessed it—the Gaoler himself +perhaps least of all until his dream showed him the truth about +himself. When the night was over and morning light had come, the +Gaoler was determined to do all he could to help his new friend. He +went straight to the Justices and told them that he and all his +household had been plagued because of what they had done to George Fox +the prisoner.</p> + +<p>'Well, we have been plagued too for having him put in prison,' +answered one of the Justices, whose name was Justice Bennett. And here +we must wait a minute, for it is interesting to know that it was this +same Justice Bennett who first gave the name of Quakers <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span>to George Fox +and his followers as a nickname, to make fun of them. Fox declared in +his preaching that 'all men should tremble at the word of the Lord,' +whereupon the Justice laughingly said that 'Quakers and Tremblers was +the name for such people.' The Justice might have been much surprised +if he could have known that centuries after, thousands of people all +over the world would still be proud to call themselves by the name he +had given in a moment of mockery.</p> + +<p>Neither Justice Bennett nor his prisoner could guess this, however; +and therefore, although his Gaoler's heart had been changed, George +Fox still lay in Derby Prison. There was more work waiting for him to +do there.</p> + +<p>One day he heard that a soldier wanted to see him, and in there came a +rough trooper, with a story that he was very anxious to tell. 'I was +sitting in Church,' he began. 'Thou meanest in the steeple-house,' +corrected Fox, who was always very sure that a 'Church' meant a +'Company of Christ's faithful people,' and that the mere outward +building where they were gathered should only be called a +steeple-house if it had a steeple, or a meeting-house if it had none. +'Sitting in Church, listening to the Priest,' continued the trooper, +paying no attention to the interruption, 'I was in an exceeding great +trouble, thinking over my sins and wondering what I should do, when a +Voice came to me—I believe it was God's own Voice and it said—"Dost +thou not know that my servant is in prison? Go thou to him for +direction." So I obeyed the Voice,' the man continued, 'and here I +have come to you, and now I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>want you to tell me what I must do to get +rid of the burden of these sins of mine.' He was like Christian in +<i>Pilgrim's Progress</i>, with a load of sins on his back, was he not? And +just as Christian's burden rolled away when he came to the Cross, so +the trooper's distress vanished when Fox spoke to him, and told him +that the same power that had shown him his sins and troubled him for +them, would also show him his salvation, for 'That which shows a man +his sin is the Same that takes it away!'</p> + +<p>Fox did not speak in vain. The trooper 'began to have great +understanding of the Lord's truth and mercyes.' He became a bold man +too, and took his new-found happiness straight back to the other +soldiers in his quarters, and told them of the truths he had learnt in +the prison. He even said that their Colonel—Colonel Barton—was 'as +blind as Nebuchadnezzar, to cast such a true servant of God as Fox +was, into Gaol.'</p> + +<p>Before long this saying came to Colonel Barton's ears, and then there +was a fine to do. Naturally he did not like being compared with +Nebuchadnezzar. Who would? But it would have been undignified for a +Colonel to take any notice then of the soldiers' tittle-tattle; so he +said nothing, only bided his time and waited until he could pay back +his grudge against the sergeant. A whole year he waited—then his +chance came. It was at the Battle of Worcester, when the two armies +were lying close together, but before the actual fighting had begun, +that two soldiers of the King's Army came out and challenged any two +soldiers of the Parliamentary Army to single combat, whereupon Colonel +Barton ordered the soldier who <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>had likened him to Nebuchadnezzar to +go with one other companion on this dangerous errand. They went; they +fought with the two Royalists, and one of the two Parliamentarians was +killed; but it was the other one, not Fox's friend. He, left alone, +with his comrade lying dead by his side, suddenly found that not even +to save his own life could he kill his enemies. So he drove them both +before him back to the town, but he did not fire off his pistol at +them. Then, as soon as Worcester fight was over, he himself returned +and told the whole tale to Fox. He told him 'how the Lord had +miraculously preserved him,' and said also that now he had 'seen the +deceit and hypocrisy of the officers he had seen also to the end of +Fighting.' Whereupon he straightway laid down his arms.</p> + +<p>The trooper left the army. Meanwhile his friend and teacher had +suffered for refusing to join it. We must go back a little to the +time, some months before the Battle of Worcester, when the original +term of Fox's imprisonment in the House of Correction in Derby was +drawing to a close.</p> + +<p>At this time many new soldiers were being raised for the Parliamentary +Army, and among them the authorities were anxious to include their +stalwart prisoner, George Fox. Accordingly the Gaoler was asked to +bring his charge out to the market-place, and there, before the +assembled Commissioners and soldiers, Fox was offered a good position +in the army if he would take up arms for the Commonwealth against +Charles Stuart. The officers could not understand why George Fox +should refuse to regain his liberty on what seemed to them to be such +easy terms. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>'Surely,' they said, 'a strong, big-boned man like you +will be not only willing but eager to take up arms against the +oppressor and abuser of the liberties of the people of England!'</p> + +<p>Fox persisted in his refusal. 'I told them,' he writes in his Journal, +'that I knew whence all wars arose, even from men's lusts ... and that +I lived in the virtue of that life and power that took away the +occasion of all wars. Yet they courted me to accept their offer, and +thought I did but compliment them. But I told them I was come into +that covenant of peace which was before wars and strifes were. They +said they offered it in love and kindness to me, because for my +virtue, and such like flattering words they used. But I told them if +that was their love and kindness, I trampled it under my feet. Then +their rage got up, and they said, "Take him away, Gaoler, and put him +into the prison among the rogues and thieves."'</p> + +<p>This prison was a much worse place than the House of Correction where +Fox had been confined hitherto. In it he was obliged to remain for a +weary half-year longer, knowing all the time that he might have been +at liberty, could he have consented to become an officer in the army. +His relations, distressed at his imprisonment, had already offered +£100 for his release, but Fox would not accept the pardon this sum +might have obtained for him as he said he had done nothing wrong. He +was occasionally allowed to leave the horrible, dirty gaol, with its +loathsome insects and wicked companions, and walk for a short time in +the garden by himself, because his keepers knew that when he had given +his word <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>he would not try to escape from their custody.</p> + +<p>As time went on, many dismal people (looking on the gloomy side of +things, as dismal people always do) began to shake their heads and +say, 'Poor young man, he will spend all his life in gaol. You will see +he will never be set free or get his liberty again.' But Fox refused +to be cast down. Narrow though his prison was, Hope shared it with +him. 'I had faith in God,' his Journal says, 'that I should be +delivered from that place in the Lord's time, but not yet, being set +there for a work He had for me to do!' Work there was for him in +prison truly. A young woman prisoner who had robbed her master was +sentenced to be hanged, according to the barbarous law then in force. +This shocked Fox so much that he wrote letters to her judges and to +the men who were to have been her executioners, expressing his horror +at what was going to happen in such strong language that he actually +softened their hearts. Although the girl had actually reached the foot +of the gallows, and her grave had already been dug, she was reprieved. +Then, when she was brought back into prison again after this wonderful +escape Fox was able to pour light and life into her soul, which was an +even greater thing than saving her body from death. Many other +prisoners did Fox help and comfort in Derby Gaol;<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> but though he +could soften the sufferings of others he could not shorten his own. +Once again Justice Bennett sent his men to the prison, this time with +orders to take the Quaker by <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>force and compel him to join the army, +since he would not fight of his own free will.</p> + +<p>'But I told him,' said Fox, '"that I was brought off from outward +wars." They came again to give me press money, but I would take none. +Afterwards the Constables brought me a second time before the +Commissioners, who said I should go for a soldier, but I said I was +dead to it. They said I was alive. I told them where envy and hatred +is, there is confusion. They offered me money twice, but I refused it. +Being disappointed, they were angry, and committed me a close +prisoner, till at length they were made to turn me out of Gaol about +the beginning of winter 1651, after I had been a prisoner in Derby +almost a year; six months in the House of Correction, and six months +in the common gaol.'</p> + +<p>Thus at length Derby prison was left behind; but the seeds that the +prisoner had planted in that dark place sprang up and flourished and +bore fruit long after he had left.</p> + +<p>Eleven years later, the very same Gaoler, who had been cruel to Fox at +the first, and had then had the vision and repented, wrote this letter +to his former prisoner. It is a real Gaoler's love-letter, and quite +fresh to-day, though it was written nearly 300 years ago.</p> + +<div class="block2"><p>'<span class="fakesc">DEAR FRIEND</span>,' the letter begins,</p> + +<p style="text-indent: 2em;">'Having such a convenient messenger I could do no less than give +thee an account of my present condition; remembering that to the +first awakening of me to a sense of life, God was pleased to +make use of thee as an instrument. So that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>sometimes I am taken +with admiration that it should come by such means as it did; +that is to say that Providence should order thee to be my +prisoner to give me my first sight of the truth. It makes me +think of the gaoler's conversion by the apostles. Oh! happy +George Fox! that first breathed the breath of life within the +walls of my habitation! Notwithstanding that my outward losses +are since that time such that I am become nothing in the world, +yet I hope I shall find that these light afflictions, which are +but for a moment, will work for me a far more exceeding and +eternal weight of glory. They have taken all from me; and now +instead of keeping a prison, I am waiting rather when I shall +become a prisoner myself. Pray for me that my faith fail not, +and that I may hold out to the death, that I may receive a crown +of life. I earnestly desire to hear from thee and of thy +condition, which would very much rejoice me. Not having else at +present, but my kind love to thee and all friends, in haste, I +rest thine in Christ Jesus.</p> + +<p class="right">'<span class="fakesc">THOMAS SHARMAN.</span></p> + +<p>'Derby, the 22nd of the fourth month, 1662.'</p> +</div> + + +<p>This Gaoler was one of the first people whose Tiger spirits were tamed +by George Fox. But he certainly was not the last. Fox himself had told +the soldiers in Derby market-place that he could not fight, because he +'lived in the virtue of that life and power that took away the +occasion of all wars.' As a friend of his wrote, after his death many +years later: 'George Fox was a discerner of other men's spirits, +<span class="fakesc">AND VERY MUCH A MASTER OF HIS OWN</span>.'</p> + +<br /> +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<br /> + +<h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Two men who were executed for small offences he could not +save, but 'a little time after they had suffered their spirits +appeared to me as I was walking, and I saw the men was well.'</p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span><br /> +<a name="V_LEATHER_BREECHES" id="V_LEATHER_BREECHES"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>V. 'THE MAN IN LEATHER BREECHES'<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + + + + + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'As I was walking I heard old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> +people and work people to say: "he +is such a man as never was, he +knows people's thoughts" for I +turned them to the divine light of +Christ and His spirit let them see +... that there was the first step +to peace to stand still in the +light that showed them their sin +and transgression.'<span class="fakesc">—G. +FOX</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Do not look at but keep over all +unnaturalness, if any such thing +should appear, but keep in that +which was and is and will +be.'<span class="fakesc">—G. FOX</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Wait patiently upon the Lord; +let every man that loves God, +endeavour by the spirit of wisdom, +meekness, and love to dry up +Euphrates, even this spirit of +bitterness that like a great river +hath overflowed the earth of +mankind.'<span class="fakesc">—GERRARD +WINSTANLEY</span>. 1648.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Blessed is he who loves Thee, +and his friend in Thee, and his +enemy for Thy +sake.'<span class="fakesc">—AUGUSTINE</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Eternity is just the real world +for which we were made, and which +we enter through the door of +love.'<span class="fakesc">—RUFUS M. +JONES</span>.</i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>V. 'THE MAN IN LEATHER BREECHES'</h3> +<br /> + +<p>22nd Dec. 1651.</p> + +<p>'Rough Moll, the worst-tempered woman in all Yorkshire.' It was thus +her neighbours were wont to speak behind her back of Mistress Moll, +the keeper of the 'George and Dragon' Inn at Hutton Cranswick near +Driffield in the East Riding. Never a good word or a kind deed had she +for anyone, since her husband had been called away to serve in King +Charles's army. In former days, when mine host was at home, the +neighbours had been encouraged to come early and stay late at night +gossipping over the home-brewed ale he fetched for them so cheerily; +for Moll's husband was an open-hearted, pleasant-mannered man, the +very opposite of his shrewish wife. But now, since his departure for +the wars, the neighbours got to the bottom of their mugs with as +little delay as possible, vowing to themselves in whispers that they +would seek refuge elsewhere another night, since Moll's sour looks +went near to give a flavour of vinegar even to the ale she brewed. +Thus, as speedily as might be, they escaped from the reach of their +hostess's sharp tongue.</p> + +<p>But the lasses of the inn, who were kept to do the rough work of the +house, found it harder to escape from the harsh rule of their +mistress. And for little Jan, Moll's four-year-old son, there was +still less possibility of escape from the tyrant whom he called by the +name of Mother.</p> + +<p>Nothing of true mother-love had ever yet been <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span>kindled in Rough Moll's +heart. From the very beginning she had fiercely resented being +burdened with what she called 'the plague of a brat.' Still, so long +as his father remained at home, the child's life had not been an +unhappy one. As soon as ever he could stand alone he drew himself up +by his father's trousers, with an outstretched hand to be grasped in +the big fist. As soon as he could toddle, he spent his days wandering +round the Inn after his daddy, knowing that directly he grew tired +daddy would be ready to stop whatever he might be doing, in order to +lift the small boy up in his arms or to give him a ride on his knee.</p> + +<p>'Wasting your time over the brat and leaving the Tavern to go to rack +and ruin'—Moll would say, with a sneer, as she passed them. But she +never interfered; for the husband who had courted her when she was a +young girl was the only person for whom she still kept a soft spot in +the heart that of late years seemed to have grown so hard.</p> + +<p>Truth to tell, tavern-keeping was no easy business in those unsettled +times, and Moll had ever been a famous body for worrying over trifles.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0a">'"The worry cow<br /></span> +<span class="i0a">Would have lived till now,<br /></span> +<span class="i0a">If she had not lost her breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0a">But she thought her hay<br /></span> +<span class="i0a">Would not last the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0a">So she mooed herself to death."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="noin">'And all the time she had three sacks full! Remember that, Moll, my +lass!' Jan's father would say to his wife, when she began to pour out +to him her dismal forebodings about the future.</p> + +<p>But since this easy-going, jolly daddy had left <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span>the Inn and had gone +away with the other men and lads of the village to fight with My Lord +for the King, little Jan's lot was a hard one, and seemed likely to +grow harder day by day.</p> + +<p>Rough Moll's own life was not too easy either, at this time, though +few folks troubled themselves to speculate upon the reason for her +added gruffness. So she concealed her anxieties under an extra +harshness of tongue and did her best to make life a burden to everyone +she came across. For, naturally, now that the Inn was no longer a +pleasant place in mine host's absence, it was no longer a profitable +place either. Custom was falling off and quarter day was fast +approaching. Moll was at her wits' end to know where she should find +money to pay her rent, when, one day, to her unspeakable relief, My +Lady in her coach stopped at the door of the Inn. Now Moll had been +dairymaid up at the Hall years ago, before her marriage, and My Lady +knew of old that Moll's butter was as sweet as her looks were sour. +Perhaps she guessed, also, at some of the other woman's anxieties; for +was not her own husband, My Lord, away at the wars too? Anyway, when +the fine yellow coach stopped at the door of the Inn, it was My Lady's +own head with the golden ringlets that leaned out of the window, and +My Lady's own soft voice that asked if her old dairymaid could +possibly oblige her with no less than thirty pounds of butter for her +Yuletide feast to the villagers the following week.</p> + +<p>The Moll who came out, smiling and flattered, to the Inn door and +stood there curtseying very low to her Ladyship, was a different being +from the Rough Moll of every day. She promised, with her very +smoothest <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span>tongue, she would not fail. She knew where to get the milk, +and her Ladyship should have the butter, full weight and the very +best, by the following evening, which would leave two full days before +Christmas.</p> + +<p>'That is settled then, for I have never known you to fail me,' said My +Lady, as the coach drove away, leaving Moll curtseying behind her, and +vowing again that 'let come what would come,' she would not fail.</p> + +<p>It was small wonder, therefore, after this unaccustomed graciousness, +that she was shorter-tempered than ever with her unfortunate guests +that evening. Was not their presence hindering her from getting on +with her task? At length she left the lasses to serve the ale, which, +truth to tell, they were nothing loath to do, while Moll herself, in +her wooden shoes and with her skirts tucked up all round her, +clattered in and out of the dairy where already a goodly row of large +basins stood full to the brim with rich yellow milk on which, even +now, the cream was fast rising.</p> + +<p>Thirty pounds of butter could never all be made in one day; she must +begin her task overnight. True, little Jan was whining to go to bed as +he tried vainly to keep awake on his small hard stool by the fire. The +brat must wait; she could not attend to him now. He could sleep well +enough leaning against the bricks of the chimney-corner. Or, no! the +butter-making would take a long time, and Moll was never a methodical +woman. Jan should lie down, just as he was, and have a nap in the +kitchen until she was ready to attend to him. Roughly, but not +unkindly, she pulled him off the stool and laid him down on a rug in a +dark corner of the kitchen and told him to be off to sleep as fast as +he could, stooping to cover him with an old coat <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span>of her husband's +that was hanging on the door, as she spoke. Nothing loath, Jan shut +his sleepy eyes, and, burying his little nose in the folds of the old +coat, he went happily off into dreamland, soothed by the +well-remembered out-door smell that always clung around his father's +belongings.</p> + +<p>It did not take Moll long to fill the churn and to set it in its +place. Just as she was busy shutting down the lid, there came a knock +at the door. 'Plague take you, Stranger,' she grumbled, as she opened +it, and a gust of snow and wind blew in upon her and the assembled +guests in the tavern kitchen. 'You bring in more of the storm than you +are likely to pay for your ale.'</p> + +<p>'My desire is not for ale,' said the Stranger, speaking slowly, and +looking at the woman keenly from underneath his shaggy eyebrows. 'I +came but to ask thee for shelter from the storm; and for a little +meat, if thou hast any to set before me.'</p> + +<p>'To ask <i>thee</i> for shelter.' 'If <i>thou</i> hast any meat.' The unusual +form of address caught Moll's ear. She looked more closely at her +visitor. Yes, his lower limbs were not covered with homely Yorkshire +frieze; they were encased in odd garments that must surely be made of +leather, since the snowflakes lay upon them in crisp wreaths and +wrinkles before they melted. She had heard of the strange being who +was visiting those parts and she had no desire to make his +acquaintance. 'Hey, lasses!' she called to her maids at the far end of +the tavern parlour, 'here is the man in leather breeches himself, come +to pay us a visit this wild night!'</p> + +<p>A shout of laughter went up from the men at their <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span>tankards. 'The man +in leather breeches!' 'Send him out again into the storm! We'll have +none of his company here, the spoil sport!'</p> + +<p>Moll nodded assent, and returning to her unwelcome guest, said +shortly, 'Meat there is none for you here,' and moved towards the +door, where the Stranger still stood, as if to close it upon him.</p> + +<p>But the man was not to be so easily dismissed.</p> + +<p>'Hast thou then milk?' he asked.</p> + +<p>Moll laughed aloud. A man who did not want ale should not have milk; +no money to be made out of that; especially this night of all nights, +when every drop would be wanted for her Ladyship's butter.</p> + +<p>Lies were part of Moll's regular stock-in-trade. She lied now, with +the ease of long habit.</p> + +<p>'You will get no shelter here,' she said roughly, 'and as for milk, +there is not a drop in the house.'</p> + +<p>The Stranger looked at her. He spoke no words for a full minute, but +as his eyes pierced her through and through, she knew that he knew +that she had lied. The knowledge made her angry. She repeated her +words with an oath. The Stranger made as if to turn away; then, almost +reluctantly but very tenderly, as if he were being drawn back in spite +of himself: 'Hast thou then cream?' he asked. Yet, though his tone was +persuasive, his brows were knitted as he stood looking down upon the +angry woman.</p> + +<p>'Not as if he cared about the cream, but as if he cared about me,' +Moll said herself, long after. But at the time: 'No, nor cream either. +On my soul, there is not a drop in the house,' she repeated, more +fiercely than before.</p> + +<p>But, even as she spoke, she saw that the Stranger's <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>eyes were +fastened on the churn that stood behind her, the churn evidently full +and drawn out for use, with drops of rich yellow cream still standing +upon the lid and trickling down the sides.</p> + +<p>Moll turned her square shoulders upon the churn as if to shut out its +witness to her falsehood. Her lies came thick and fast; 'I tell you +there is not a single drop of cream in the house.'</p> + +<p>The next moment, a loud crash made her look round. She had forgotten +Jan! The loud angry voice and the cold blast from the open door had +awakened him before he had had time to get sound asleep. Hearing his +mother vow that she had not a drop of cream in the house, he left his +rug and began playing about again. Then, being ever a restless little +mortal, he had crept round to the churn to see if it had really become +empty in such a short time. He had tried to pull himself up by one of +the legs in order to stand on the rim and see if there was really no +cream inside; and in attempting this feat, naturally, he had pulled +the whole churn over upon him. And not only the churn,—its contents +too! Eighteen quarts of Moll's richest yellow cream were streaming all +over the kitchen floor. Pools, lakes, rivers, seas of cream were +running over the flagstones and dripping through the crevices into the +ground.</p> + +<p>With a cry of rage Moll turned, and, seeing the damage, she sprang +upon little Jan and beat him soundly; and a beating from Moll's heavy +hand was no small matter: then with a curse she flung the child away +from her towards the hearth.</p> + +<p>'Woman!' The Stranger's voice recalled her. 'Woman! Beware! Thou art +full of lies and fury <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span>and deceit, yet in the name of the Lord I warn +thee. Ere three days have gone by, thou shalt know what is in thine +heart; and thou shalt learn the power of that which was, and is, and +will be!'</p> + +<p>So saying, the unwelcome guest opened the outer door and walked away +into the raging storm and darkness,—a less bitter storm it seemed to +him now than that created by the violent woman within doors. Some way +further on he espied a haystack, under which he lay down, as he had +done on many another night before this, and there he slept in the wind +and the snow until morning.</p> + +<p>Moll, meanwhile, enraged beyond words at the loss of her cream, +stalked off for a pail and cloth, and set herself to wash the floor, +muttering curses as she did so. Never a glance did she cast at the +corner by the fire where little Jan still lay by the hearth-stone, +motionless and strangely quiet; he, the restless imp, who was usually +so full of life. Never a glance, until, the centre of the floor being +at last clean again, Moll, on her knees, came with her pail of +soap-suds to the white river that surrounded the corner of the kitchen +where Jan lay. A white river? Nay, there was a crimson river that +mingled with it; a stream of crimson drops that flowed from the stone +under the child's head.</p> + +<p>Moll leapt to her feet on the instant. What ailed the boy? She had +beaten him, it is true, but then she had beaten him often before this +in his father's absence. A beating was nothing new to little Jan. Why +had he fallen? What made him lie so still? She turned him over. Ah! it +was easy to see the reason. As she flung him from her in her rage, +the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>child in his fall had struck his head against the sharp edge of +the hearth-stone, and there he lay now, with the life-blood steadily +flowing from his temple.</p> + +<p>A feeling that Rough Moll had never been conscious of before gripped +her heart at the sight. Was her boy dead? Had she killed him? What +would his father say? What would her husband call her? A murderer? Was +she that? Was that what the Stranger had meant when he had looked at +her with those piercing eyes? He might have called her a liar, at the +sight of the churn full of cream, but he had not done so; and little +she would have cared if he had. But a murderer! Was murder in her +heart?</p> + +<p>Lifting Jan as carefully as she could, she carried him upstairs to the +small bedroom under the roof, where he usually lay on a tiny pallet by +her side. But this night the child's small figure lay in the wide bed, +and big Moll, with all her clothes on, hung over him; or if she lay +down for a moment or two, it was only on the hard little pallet by his +side.</p> + +<p>All that night Moll watched. But all that night Jan never moved. All +the next day he lay unconscious, while Moll did her clumsy utmost to +staunch the wound in his forehead. Long before it was light, she tried +to send one of her maids for the doctor; but the storm was now so +violent that none could leave or enter the house.</p> + +<p>Her Ladyship's order went unheeded. The thirty pounds of butter were +never made. But My Lady, who was a mother herself, not only forgave +Moll for spoiling her Yuletide festivities, but even told her, when +she heard of the disaster, that she need not trouble <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>about the rent +until her boy was better.</p> + +<p>Until he was better! But would Jan ever be better? Moll had no thought +now for either the butter or the rent. The yellow cream might turn +sour in every single one of her pans for all she cared, if only she +could get rid of this new unbearable pain.</p> + +<p>At length, on the evening of the second day, faint with the want of +sleep, she fell into an uneasy doze: and still Jan had neither moved +nor stirred. Presently a faint sound woke her. Was he calling? No; it +was but the Christmas bells ringing across the snow. What were those +bells saying? '<span class="fakesc">MUR-DER-ER</span>' '<span class="fakesc">MUR-DERER</span>'—was that +it? Over and over again. Did even the bells know what she had done and +what she had in her heart? For a moment black despair seized her.</p> + +<p>The next moment there followed the shuffling sound of many feet +padding through the snow. The storm had ceased by this time, and all +the world was wrapped in a white silence, broken only by the sound of +the distant bells. And now the Christmas waits had followed the bells' +music, and were singing carols outside the ale-house door. Fiercely, +Moll stuck her fingers in her ears. She would not listen, lest even +the waits should sing of her sin, and shew her the blackness of her +heart. But the song stole up into the room, and, in spite of herself, +something forced Moll to attend to the words:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0a">'Babe Jesus lay in Mary's lap,<br /></span> +<span class="i0a">The sun shone on his hair—<br /></span> +<span class="i0a">And that was how she saw, mayhap,<br /></span> +<span class="i0a">The crown already there.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>That was how good mothers sang to their children. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>They saw crowns +upon their hair. What sort of a crown had Moll given to her child? She +looked across and saw the chaplet of white bandages lying on the white +pillow. No; she, Moll, had never been a good mother, would never be +one now, unless her boy came back to life again. She was a murderer, +and her husband when he returned from the wars would tell her so, and +little Jan would never know that his mother had a heart after all.</p> + +<p>At that moment the carol died away, and the waits' feet, heavy with +clinging snow, shuffled off into the darkness; but looking down again +at the head with its crown of white bandages upon the white pillow, +Moll saw that this time Jan's eyes were open and shining up at her.</p> + +<p>'Mother,' he said, in his little weak voice, as he opened his arms and +smiled. Moll had seen him smile like that at his father; she had never +known before that she wanted to share that smile. She knew it now.</p> + +<p>Only three short days had passed since she turned the Stranger from +her doors, but little Jan and his mother entered a new world of love +and tenderness together that Christmas morning. As Rough Moll gathered +her little son up into her arms and held him closely to her breast, +she knew for the first time the power of 'that which was, and is, and +will be.'</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span><br /> +<a name="VI_THE_SHEPHERD" id="VI_THE_SHEPHERD"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>VI. THE SHEPHERD OF PENDLE HILL<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'On Pendle G.F. saw people as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +thick as motes in the sun, that +should in time be brought home to +the Lord, that there might be but +one Shepherd and one Sheepfold in +all the earth. There his eye was +directed Northward beholding a +great people that should receive +him and his message in those +parts.'<span class="fakesc">—W. PENN'S</span> +Testimony to George Fox.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'In Adam, in the fall are all the +inward foul weather, storms, +tempests, winds, strifes, the +whole family of it is in +confusion, being all gone from the +spirit and witness of God in +themselves, and the power and the +light, in which power and light +and spirit, is the fellowship with +God and with one another, through +which they come ... into the +quickener, who awakens (them) and +brings (them) up unto Himself, the +way, Christ; and out of and off +from the teachers and priests, and +shepherds that change and fall, to +the <span class="fakesc">PRIEST</span>, +<span class="fakesc">SHEPHERD</span> and +<span class="fakesc">PROPHET</span>, that never +fell or changed, nor ever will +fail or change, nor leave the +flock in the cold weather nor in +the winter, nor in storms or +tempests; nor doth the voice of +the wolf frighten him from his +flock. For the Light, the Power, +the Truth, the Righteousness, did +it ever leave you in any weather, +or in any storms or tempests? And +so his sheep know his voice and +follow Him, who gives them life +eternal abundantly.'<span class="fakesc">—GEORGE +FOX</span>.</i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>VI. THE SHEPHERD OF PENDLE HILL</h3> +<br /> + +<p>'Ingleborough, Pendle and Pen-y-Ghent Are the highest hills 'twixt +Scotland and Trent.' So sing I, the Shepherd of Pendle, to myself, and +so have I sung, on summer days, these many years, lying out atop of +old Pendle Hill, keeping watch over my flock.</p> + +<p>In good sooth, a shepherd's life is a hard one, on our Lancashire +fells, for nine months out of the twelve. The nights begin to be sharp +with frost towards the back-end of the year, for all the days are +sunny and warm at times. Bitter cold it is in winter and worse in +spring, albeit the daylight is longer.</p> + +<p>'As the day lengthens, so the cold strengthens,' runs the rhyme, and +well do men know the truth of it in these parts. Many a time a man +must be ready to give his own life for his sheep, aye and do it too, +to save them in a snow-drift or from the biting frost. It is an +anxious season for the shepherd, until he sees the lambs safely at +play and able to stand upon their weak legs and run after their +mothers. But it is not until the dams are clipped that a shepherd has +an easy mind and can let his thoughts dwell on other things. Then, at +last, in the summer, his time runs gently for a while; and I, for one, +was always ready to enjoy myself, when once the bitter weather was +over.</p> + +<p>So there I was, one day many years ago, nigh upon Midsummer, lying out +on the grassy slopes atop of old Pendle Hill, and singing to myself—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0a">'Ingleborough, Pendle and Pen-y-Ghent<br /></span> +<span class="i0a">Are the highest hills 'twixt Scotland and Trent.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span>But for all I sang of the hills, my thoughts were in the valleys. I +lay there, watching till the sun should catch the steep roof of a +certain cot I know. It stands by the side of a stream, so hidden among +the bushes that even my eye cannot find it, unless the sunlight finds +it first, and flashes back at me from roof and window-pane. That was +the cot I had never lived in then, but I hoped to live in it before +the summer was over, and to bring the bonniest lass in all yon broad +Yorkshire there with me as my bride. That was to be if things went +well with me and with the sheep; for my master had promised to give me +a full wage (seeing I had now reached man's estate), if so be I came +through the spring and early summer without losing a single lamb. +Thinking of these things, and dreaming dreams as a lad will, the hours +trod swiftly over Pendle Hill that day; for all the sun was going down +the sky but slowly, seeing it was Midsummer-tide.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep114" id="imagep114"></a> +<a href="images/imagep114.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep114.jpg" width="90%" alt="DREAMING OF THE COT IN THE VALE" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">'DREAMING OF THE COT IN THE VALE'<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>Suddenly, as I lay there looking down over the slope, I saw a strange +sight, for travellers are scarce on Pendle Hill even at Midsummer. But +it was a traveller surely, or was it a shepherd? At first I could not +be sure; for he carried a lamb in his arms and trod warily with it, in +the way that shepherds do. Yet I never met a shepherd clad in clothes +like his; nor with a face like his either, as I saw it, when he came +nearer. Weary he looked, and with a pale countenance, as if he had +much ado to come up the hill, and in good sooth 'tis full steep just +there; or else, may be, he was fasting and faint for lack of food. But +all this I only thought of later. At the time, I looked not much at +him, but only at the lamb he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>carried in his arms. How came such a +man to be carrying a lamb, and carrying it full gently and carefully +too, supporting one leg with both hands, although he was encumbered +with a staff? Then, when he had come yet nearer, I saw that it was not +only a lamb—it was one of my master's lambs, my own lambs that I was +set to watch; for there on its wool was the brand carried by our +flocks and by none others on all those fells. One of my lambs, lying +in a stranger's arms! A careless shepherd I! I must have been asleep +or dreaming ... dreaming foolish dreams about that cottage, on which +the sun might shine unheeded now, I cared not for it, being full of +other thoughts. No sooner did I espy the brand on the lamb than I rose +to my feet, and, even as I ran nimbly down the slope towards the +stranger, my eyes roamed over the hillside to discover which of my +lambs had strayed:—Rosamond, Cowslip, Eglantine and Gillyflower—I +could see them all safe with their dams, and many more besides. All +the lambs that springtime I had named after the flowers that I hoped +to plant another year in the garden of that cot beside the stream. And +all the flowers I could see and name were safe beside their dams, as I +leapt down the hillside. Nay, Periwinkle was missing! Periwinkle was +ever a strayer, and Periwinkle's dam was bleating at the edge of the +steep cliff up which the stranger toiled. It was Periwinkle and none +other that he was carrying in his arms! Seeing it was Periwinkle, I +halloed to him to halt. Hearing my cry, he stopped, and waited till I +reached him, all the time holding the lamb carefully, tending it and +speaking to it in the tone a shepherd is wont to use.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>'Thanks to you, Good Stranger,' I said, as I came nearer, 'Periwinkle +is ever a strayer. Did you see her fall?'</p> + +<p>'Nay,' said the Stranger, giving the lamb tenderly into my arms, and +halting upon his staff; speaking warily and weightily as I never heard +a man speak before or since. 'Nay; the lambkin must have fallen before +I came by. But I heard the mother bleat, and I knew, by the sound, +that she was in distress. Therefore I turned towards the crag upon +which she stood, and, looking down, I perceived the lamb fallen among +the brambles beneath a high ledge.'</p> + +<p>'And went down over for her yourself and brought her up again! 'Twas +bravely done, Good Stranger,' I answered, and then, thinking to +encourage him, I said, 'Better you could not have done it, had you +been a shepherd yourself, for I see your hands are torn.'</p> + +<p>'It is nothing,' he answered. 'A shepherd expects that.'</p> + +<p>'Then are you a shepherd too, Master Stranger?' I asked, but he gave +no answer; only fastened his eyes upon me as we climbed together up +the hill. Wonderful eyes he had, not like to other men's; with a depth +and yet a light in them, as when the June sun shines back reflected +from the blackness of a mountain tarn. I saw them then, and still I +seem to see them, for when he looked at me, although he said no word, +it was as if he knew me apart from everyone else in the world, even as +I know every one of my master's sheep. I felt that he knew too how I +had been looking at that cot in the vale and dreaming idly, forgetful +of my lambs. Therefore, though he said no word <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>of rebuke to me, I +felt my cheeks grow hot, and I hung my head and spake not. Only, when +we reached the top of the hill, he turned and answered me at last. +'Thou judgest right, friend,' he said, 'I was indeed a shepherd in my +young years. I am a shepherd even now, though as yet with full few +sheep. But, hereafter, it may be....'</p> + +<p>I did not wait for the end of his sentence. Now that we were come to +level ground I was fain to show that I was not a careless, idle +shepherd in truth. My mind was set on Periwinkle's leg; broken, I +feared, for it hung down limply. I took her,—laid her on the grass +beside her dam while I fashioned a rough splint, shepherd-fashion, to +keep the leg steady till we reached the fold. Then, seeing the sun was +low by this time and nigh to setting over beyond the sea towards +Morecambe, I called my sheep and gathered them from all the fells, +near and far; and a fairer flock of sheep ye shall never see 'twixt +Scotland and Trent, as the song says, though I trow ye may, an ye look +carefully, find steeper hills than old Pendle.</p> + +<p>When my work was done, I took up Periwinkle in my arms once more, +anxious to descend with her ere night fell. Already I was climbing +carefully down the slope, when, bless me, I remembered the Stranger, +and that I had left him without a word, he having gone clean out of my +mind, and I not having given him so much as a 'thank ye' at parting, +for all he had saved Periwinkle. But I think I must have gone clean +out of his mind too.</p> + +<p>When I came back to him once more, there he was, still standing on the +very top of the hill, where I had left him. But now his head was +raised, the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span>breeze lifted his hair. A kind of glory was on him. It +was light from the sunset sky, I thought at first; but it was brighter +far than that; for the sunset sky looked dull and dim beside it. His +eyes were roaming far and wide over the valleys and hills, even as my +eyes had wandered, when I was gathering my sheep. But his eyes +wandered further, and further far, till they reached the utmost line +of the Irish Sea to westward and covered all the country that lay +between. Then he turned himself around to the east again. A strong man +he was and a tall, and the glory was still on his face, though now he +had the sunset sky at his back. And he opened his mouth and spake. +Strange were his words:</p> + +<p>'If but one man,' said he, 'but one man or woman, were raised by the +Lord's Power to stand and live in the same Spirit that the Apostles +and Prophets were in, he or she should shake all this country for +miles round.' Shake all the country! He had uttered a fearsome thing. +'Nay, Master Stranger, bethink ye,' I said, going up to him, 'how may +that be? What would happen to me and the sheep were these fells to +shake? Even now, though they stand steady, you have seen that wayward +lambs like Periwinkle will fall over and do themselves a mischief.' So +I spake, being but a witless lad. But my words might have been the +wind passing by him, so little he heeded them. I doubt if he even +heard or knew that I was there although I stood close at his side. For +again his eyes were resting on the Irish Sea, and on the country that +lay shining in the sun towards Furness, and on the wide, glistening +sands round Morecambe Bay. And then he turned himself round to the +north <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span>where lie the high mountains that can at times be seen, or +guessed, in the glow of the setting sun. Thus, as he gazed on all that +fair land, the Stranger spoke. Again he uttered strange words.</p> + +<p>At first his voice was low and what he said reached me not, save only +the words: 'A great people, a great people to be gathered.'</p> + +<p>Whereat I, being, as I say, but a lad then, full of my own notions and +mighty sure of myself as young lads are, plucked at his sleeve, having +heard but the last words, and supposing that he had watched me +gathering my flock for the fold.</p> + +<p>'Not people, Master Stranger,' I interrupted. ''Tis my business to +gather sheep. Sheep and silly, heedless lambs like Periwinkle, 'tis +them I must gather for my master's fold.'</p> + +<p>He saw and heard me then, full surely.</p> + +<p>'Aye,' he said, and his voice, though deep, had music in it, while his +eyes pierced me yet again, but more gently this time, so that I made +sure he had seen me tending Periwinkle and knew that I had done the +best I could. 'Aye, verily thou dost well. Shepherd of Pendle, to +gather lambs and silly sheep for their master's fold. I, too....' But +there again he broke off and fell once more into silence.</p> + +<p>Thus I left him, still standing atop of the hill; but as I turned to +go I heard his voice yet again, and though I looked not round, the +sound of it was as if a man were speaking to his friend, for all I +knew that he stood there, atop of the hill, alone:</p> + +<p>'I thank thee, Lord, that Thou hast let me see this day in what places +Thou hast a great people, a great people to be gathered.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>Thereat I partly understood, yet turned not back again, nor sought to +enquire further of his meaning; for the daylight was fast fading and I +had need of all my skill in getting home my sheep.</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="VII_WHITE_RAIMENT" id="VII_WHITE_RAIMENT"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>VII. THE PEOPLE IN WHITE RAIMENT<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'After a while he (G.F.)<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> +travelled up further towards the +dales in Yorkshire, as Wensdale, +and Sedburgh, and amongst the +hills, dales, and mountains he +came on and convinced many of the +eternal Truth.'<span class="fakesc">—M. +FOX'S</span> Testimony to <span class="fakesc">G. +FOX</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'In the mighty power of God, go +on, preaching the Gospel to every +creature, and discipling them in +the name of the Father, Son, and +Holy Spirit. In the name of Christ +preach the mighty day of the Lord +to all the consciences of them who +have long lain in darkness.... In +the name of the Lord Jesus Christ +go on, that that of God in all +consciences may witness that ye +are sent of God and are of God and +so according to that speak. Sound, +sound the trumpet abroad, ye +valiant soldiers of Christ's +Kingdom, of which there is no +end.... Be famous in his Light and +bold in his strength.'<span class="fakesc">—G. +FOX</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Let us in our message offer that +which is beyond all creeds,—the +evidence in our lives of communion +with the Spirit of God.'<span class="fakesc">—J. +W. ROWNTREE</span>.</i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>VII. THE PEOPLE IN WHITE RAIMENT</h3> +<br /> + +<p>The summer twilight was fading into night. The moon, hidden at her +rising by a bank of clouds, had now climbed high above them, and shone +down, a golden lamp from the clear evening sky. It was already dusk +when the Shepherd of Pendle disappeared with his flock into the dewy +valley. It was already light again, with the pallid light of the moon, +when at length George Fox descended old Pendle Hill. Heavily he trod +and slowly. Wrapped in thought was he, as a man who has seen things +greater and more mysterious than he can express or comprehend. Only as +he descended the slope of the hill did he remember that he was bodily +weary, having eaten and drunk little for several days. A short +distance from the summit, his ear caught the tinkle of falling water; +and guided by its gentle music he came to where a tiny spring gushed +out of the hillside, and went leaping on its way, gleaming like a +thread of silver. Fox knelt down upon the soft turf, and dipping his +hand, cup-wise, into the water, he carried with difficulty a few +shining drops to his parched lips. The cool freshness of even this +scanty draught revived him. He looked round, his glance roaming over +the wide landscape that lay, mist-filled and moon-filled, beneath him, +but as yet scarce seeing what he saw. Then, rising and quickening his +steps, he hastened down the hill to the place where, hours before, his +companion, Richard Farnsworth, had promised to await his return.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span>Even faithful Richard had grown weary, as time passed and the night +drew on apace. He had been minded to chide his friend for his +forgetfulness and long delay, but as the two men met, something +stopped him, or ever he began to speak. Maybe it was the moonlight +that fell full upon George Fox's countenance, or maybe there was in +truth visible there some faint reflection of the radiance that +transfigured the face of Moses, when he too, coming down from a far +mightier revelation on a far loftier mountain, 'wist not that the skin +of his face shone.'</p> + +<p>At any rate Richard, loyal soul, checked the impatient words of +remonstrance that had risen to his lips. Silently putting his hand +through his friend's arm, he led him a mile or two further along the +road, until they came to the small wayside inn where they intended to +spend the night.</p> + +<p>No sooner were they within doors than Richard was startled afresh by +the pallor of his companion's countenance. The glory had departed now. +Nothing but utter weariness remained. In all haste Richard called for +food and drink, and placing them before Fox he almost forced him to +partake. Fox swallowed a few mouthfuls of bread, and drank a little +clear red wine in a glass. Then as he set the glass down, he noticed +the inn-keeper who was standing by, watching his guest's every +movement with curious eyes.</p> + +<p>A rough, plain countryman, he seemed, mine host of the ale-house, to +most of those who had dealings with him. But Fox, in spite of his own +bodily hunger and physical weariness, discerned that the spirit of the +man before him knew the cravings of a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>yet keener need: was fainting +under the weight of a yet heavier load. Instantly he recognised the +seeking soul within, even as the Shepherd of Pendle a few hours +previously, out on the hillside, had recognised his master's mark on +the straying sheep. Forgetting his own weariness, even for the time +putting aside the remembrance of the visions he had seen, he set +himself to win and satisfy this humble soul at his side.</p> + +<p>'I declared Truth to the man of the house,' so runs his Journal, 'and +wrote a paper to the priests and professors declaring "the day of the +Lord and that Christ was come to teach His people Himself, by His +power and spirit in their hearts, and to bring people off from all the +world's ways and teaching, to His own free teaching who had bought +them, and was the Saviour of all them that believed in Him." And the +man of the house did spread the paper up and down and was mightily +affected with Truth!'</p> + +<p>The inn-keeper went out full of gladness to 'publish Truth' in his +turn. Henceforth he was a new man in the power of the new message that +had been entrusted to him. A new life lay before him.</p> + +<p>But when the two friends were once more alone together, and the +immediate task was done, Richard Farnsworth perceived the strange look +that had silenced him at the foot of the mountain returning to his +companion's face. Only now the weariness was fading, it was the glory +that returned.</p> + +<p>Pushing away the table, George Fox rose to his feet, and stretched +both his arms out wide. He and Farnsworth were alone in the narrow inn +parlour, lighted only by one flickering rushlight. So small <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>was the +room that the whitewashed walls pressed close on every side. So low +was the ceiling that when Fox arose and drew himself up to his full +height the black oak beams were scarce a hand's breadth above his +head.</p> + +<p>Yet Richard, as he looked up, awed and silent, from his stool by the +table, felt as if his friend were still standing far above him on the +summit of a high hill, with nothing but the heights of sky beyond his +head and with the hills and valleys of the whole world stretching away +below his feet.</p> + +<p>'I see,' said Fox, and, as he spoke, to Richard too the narrow walls +seemed to open and melt away into infinite space on every side: 'I see +a people in white raiment, by a riverside—a great people—in white +raiment, coming to the Lord.'</p> + +<p>The flickering rushlight spluttered and went out. Through the low +casement window the white mists could be seen, still rising from every +bend and fold of the widespread valleys that lay around them, rising +up, up, like an innumerable company of spirit-filled souls, while the +moon shone down serenely over all.</p> + + +<h4>II</h4> + +<p>It was a few days later, and Whitsun Eve. The same traveller who had +climbed to the top of old Pendle Hill 'with much ado, it was so +steep,' was coming down now on the far side of the Yorkshire dales.</p> + +<p>'A lusty strong man of body' but 'of a grave look or countenance,' he +'travelled much on foot through rough and untrodden paths.' 'As he +passed through Wensleydale he advised the people as he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>met or passed +through them' 'to fear God,' 'which ... did much alarm the people, it +being a time that many people were filled with zeal.'<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></p> + +<p>At sunset he passed through a village of flax-weavers whose +settlements lay in the low flatts that bordered the rushing river +Rawthey a mile or two outside of Sedbergh Town.</p> + +<p>'I came through the Dales,' says George Fox in his Journal, 'and as I +was passing along the way, I asked a man which was Richard Robinson's, +and he asked me from whence I came, and I told him "From the Lord."'</p> + +<p>This must have been a rather unexpected answer from a traveller on the +high road. Can you not see the countryman's surprised face as he turns +round and stares at the speaker, and wonders whatever he means?</p> + +<p>'So when I came to Richard Robinson's I declared the Everlasting Truth +to him, and yet a dark jealousy rose up in him after I had gone to +bed, that I might be somebody that was come to rob his house, and he +locked all his doors fast. And the next day I went to a separate +meeting at Justice Benson's where the people generally was convinced, +and this was the place that I had seen a people coming forth in white +raiment; and a mighty meeting there was and is to this day near +Sedbarr which I gathered in the name of Jesus.'</p> + +<p>These flax-weavers of Brigflatts were a company of 'Seekers,' +unsatisfied souls who had strayed away like lost sheep from all the +sects and Churches, and were longing for a spiritual Shepherd to come +and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span>find them again and bring them home to the fold.</p> + +<p>George Fox was a weaver's son himself. Directly he heard it, the whirr +of the looms beside the rushing Rawthey must have been a homelike +sound in his ears. But more than that, his spirit was immediately at +home among the little colony of weavers of snowy linen; for he +recognised at once that these were the riverside people 'in white +raiment,' whom he had seen in his vision, and to whom he had been +sent.</p> + +<p>Not only the flax-weavers, but also some of the 'considerable people' +of the neighbourhood accepted the message of the wandering preacher, +who came to them over the dales that memorable Whitsuntide. The master +of the house where the meeting was held, Colonel Gervase Benson +himself, and his good wife Dorothy also, were 'convinced of Truth,' +and faithfully did they adhere thereafter to their new faith, through +fair weather and foul. In later years, men noted that this same +Colonel Benson, following his teacher's love of simplicity, and hatred +of high-sounding titles, generally styled himself merely a +'husbandman,' notwithstanding 'the height and glory of the world that +he had a great share of,'<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> seeing that 'he had been a Colonel, a +Justice of the Peace, Mayor of Kendal, and Commissary in the +Archdeaconry of Richmond before the late domestic wars. Yet, as an +humble servant of Christ, he downed those things.'<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> His wife, +Mistress Dorothy, also, was to prove herself a faithful friend to her +teacher in after years, when his turn, and her turn too, came to +suffer for 'Truth's sake.'</p> + +<p>But in these opening summer days of 1652, no <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span>shadows fell on the +sunrise of enthusiasm and of hope, as, in the good Justice's house +beside the rushing Rawthey, the gathering of the 'great people' began.</p> + +<p>The day was Whitsunday, the anniversary of that other gathering in the +upper room at Jerusalem, when the Apostles being all 'in one place, +with one accord, of one mind,' the rushing mighty Wind came and shook +all the place where they were sitting, followed by the cloven tongues +'like as of fire, that sat upon each of them.'</p> + +<p>The gift given at Pentecost has never been recalled. Throughout the +ages the Spirit waits to take possession of human hearts, ready to +fill even the humblest lives with Its Own Power of breath and flame.</p> + +<p>This was the Truth that had grown dusty and neglected in England in +this seventeenth century. The 'still, small Voice' had been drowned in +the clash of arms and in the almost worse clamour of a thousand +different sects. Now that, after his own long search in loneliness and +darkness, George Fox had at length found the Voice speaking to him +unmistakably in the depths of his own heart, the whole object of his +life was to persuade others to listen also to 'the true Teacher that +is within,' and to convince them that He was always waiting to speak +not only in their hearts, but also through their lives. 'My message +unto them from the Lord was,' he says, 'that they should all come +together again and wait to feel the Lord's power and spirit in +themselves, to gather them together to Christ, that they might be +taught of Him who says "Learn of Me."'</p> + +<p>This was the Truth—an actual, living Truth—that not only the +flax-weavers of Brigflatts, but many <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span>other companies of 'Seekers' +scattered through the dales of Yorkshire and Westmorland, as well as +in many other places, had been longing to hear proclaimed. 'Thirsty +Souls that hunger' was one of the names by which they called +themselves. It was to these thirsty, hungering Souls that George Fox +had been led at the very moment when he was burning to share with +others the vision of the 'wide horizons of the future' that had been +unfolded to him on the top of old Pendle Hill.</p> + +<p>No wonder that the Seekers welcomed him and flocked round him, +drinking in his words as if their thirsty souls could never have +enough. No wonder that he welcomed them with equal gladness, rejoicing +not only in their joy, but yet more in that he saw his vision's +fulfilment beginning. Here in these secluded villages he had been led +unmistakably to the 'Great People,' whom he had seen afar off, waiting +to be gathered.</p> + +<p>Within a fortnight from that assembly on Whit-Sunday at Justice +Benson's house George Fox was no longer a solitary, wandering teacher, +trying to convince scattered people here and there of the Truths he +had discovered. Within a fortnight—a wonderful fortnight truly—he +had become the leader of a mighty movement that gathered adherents and +grew of itself, spreading with an irresistible impulse until, only a +few years later, one Englishman out of every ninety was a member of +the <span class="fakesc">SOCIETY OF FRIENDS</span>.</p> + +<br /> +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<br /> + +<h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> First Publishers of Truth.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> First Publishers of Truth.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> First Publishers of Truth.</p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="VIII_A_WONDERFUL_FORTNIGHT" id="VIII_A_WONDERFUL_FORTNIGHT"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>VIII. A WONDERFUL FORTNIGHT<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'I look upon Cumberland and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> +Westmorland as the Galilee of +Quakerism.'<span class="fakesc">—T. +HODGKIN</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'They may have failed in their +intellectual formulation, but at +least they succeeded in finding a +living God, warm and tender and +near at hand, the Life of their +lives, the Day Star in their +hearts; and their travail of Soul, +their brave endurance, and their +loyal obedience to vision have +helped to make our modern +world.'<span class="fakesc">—RUFUS M. +JONES</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'We ceased from the teachings of +all men, and their words and their +worships, and their temples and +all their baptisms and churches, +and we ceased from our own words +and professions and practices in +religion.... We met together +often, and waited upon the Lord in +pure silence from our own words, +and hearkened to the voice of the +Lord and felt His word in our +hearts.'<span class="fakesc">—E. BURROUGH</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'John Camm, he was my father +according to the flesh, so was he +also a spiritual father and +instructor of me in the way of +Truth and Righteousness ... for +his tender care was great for the +education of me and the rest of +his children and family in the +Nurture and Fear of the +Lord.'<span class="fakesc">—THOMAS CAMM</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Death cannot separate us, for in +the never-failing love of God +there is union for +evermore.'<span class="fakesc">—J. CAMM</span>.</i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>VIII. A WONDERFUL FORTNIGHT</h3> +<br /> + +<h4>I</h4> + + +<p>The annual Fair on Whitsun Wednesday is the gayest time of the whole +year at Sedbergh. For a few hours the solid grey town under the green +fells gives itself up to gaiety and merriment.</p> + +<p>The gentry of the neighbourhood as well as the country folk for miles +around come flocking to the annual hiring of farm lads and lasses, +which is the main business of the Fair. Thoughts of profit and the +chance of making a good bargain fill the heads of the older +generation. But the youths and maidens come, eager-eyed, looking for +romance. At the Fair they seek to guess what Fate may hold in store +for them during the long months of labour that will follow hard on +their few hours of jollification.</p> + +<p>'All manner of finery was to be had' at the Fair; 'there were morris +and rapier dances, wrestling and love-making going on,' and plenty of +hard drinking too. 'The Fair at Sedbergh' was the emphatic destination +of many a prosperous farmer and labourer on a Whitsun Wednesday +morning; but it was 'Sebba Fair' he cursed thickly under his breath as +he reeled home at night.</p> + +<p>In truth seventeenth-century Sedbergh was a busy place, not only in +Fair week, but at other times too, with its stately old church and its +grammar school; to say nothing of the fact that, in these days of +Oliver's Protectorate, it boasted no less than forty-eight different +religious sects among its few hundred inhabitants. Only the sad-eyed +Seekers, coming down in little groups from their scattered hamlets, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>exchanged sorrowful greetings as they met one another amid all the +riot and hubbub of the Fair; for they had tried the forty-eight sects +in turn for the nourishment their souls needed, and had tried them all +in vain.</p> + +<p>Until this miraculous Whitsuntide of June 1652, when, suddenly, in a +moment, everything was changed.</p> + +<p>The little groups of Seekers stood still and looked at one another in +astonishment as they came out from the shadow of the narrow street of +grey stone houses into the open square in the centre of the town. For +there, opposite the market cross and under the spreading boughs of a +gigantic yew-tree, they saw a young man standing on a bench, and +preaching as they had never heard anyone preach before. Behind him +rose the massive square tower, and the long row of clerestory windows +that were, then as now, the glory of Sedbergh Church. The tall green +grass of the churchyard was already trampled down by the feet of +hundreds of spell-bound listeners.</p> + +<p>Who was this unexpected Stranger who dared to interrupt even the noisy +business of the Fair with the earnestness and insistence of his +appeal? He was a young and handsome man, with regular features and +hair that hung in short curls under his hat-brim, contrary to the +Puritan fashion; big-boned in body, and of a commanding presence. The +boys of the grammar school, determined to make the most of their +holiday, thought it good sport at first to mock at the Stranger's +garb. As he stood there, lifted up above them on the rough bench, they +could see every detail of the queer leather breeches that he wore +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>underneath his long coat. His girdle with its alchemy buttons showed +off grandly too, while the fine linen bands he wore at his neck +gleamed out with dazzling whiteness against the dark branches of +Sedbergh's majestic old yew-tree.</p> + +<p>The preacher's words and tones and his piercing eyes quickly overawed +his audience, and made them forget his outlandish appearance. Even the +boys could understand what he was saying, for he seemed to be speaking +to each one of them, as much as to any of the grown-up people. And +what was this he was telling them? With outstretched hand he pointed +upwards, insisting that that church, the beautiful building, the pride +of Sedbergh, was not a church at all. It was only a steeple-house; +they themselves were the true church, their own souls and bodies were +the temples chosen by the Spirit of God for His habitation. No wonder +the schoolboys, and many older people too, became awed and silent at +the bare idea of such a Guest. None of the eight-and-forty sects of +Sedbergh town had ever heard doctrine like this before. Possibly there +might not have been eight-and-forty of them if they had.</p> + +<p>Once during the discourse a Captain got up and interrupted the +Stranger: 'Why do you preach out here under the yew-tree? Why do you +not go inside the church and preach there?'</p> + +<p>'But,' says George Fox, 'I said unto him that I denied their church.</p> + +<p>'Then stood up Francis Howgill, a separate preacher, that had not seen +me before, and so he began to dispute with the Captain, but he held +his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>peace. Then said Francis Howgill, "This man speaks with +authority, and not as the Scribes."</p> + +<p>'And so,' continues George Fox, 'I opened to the people that that +ground and house was no holier than another place, and that house was +not the Church, but the people which Christ is head of. And so, after +a while that I had made a stand among the people, the priests came up +to me and I warned them to repent. And one of them said I was mad, and +so they turned away. But many people were glad at the hearing of the +Truth declared unto them that day, which they received gladly.</p> + +<p>'And there came one Edward Ward, and he said my very eyes pierced +through him, and he was convinced of God's everlasting truth and lived +and died in it, and many more was convinced there at that time.'</p> + +<p>Convinced they were indeed, as they had never been convinced in all +their former lives; and now that they had found the teacher they +wanted, the hungry, thirsty Seekers were not going to let him go +again. Almost overturning the booths of the Fair, these solemn, +sad-eyed men jostled each other like children in their endeavours to +reach their new friend.</p> + +<p>There at the back of the crowd solid John Camm, the prosperous +'statesman' farmer of Cammsgill, near Preston Patrick, could be seen +waving his staff like a schoolboy to attract the preacher's attention +as soon as the sermon stopped. 'Come home, young Sir! Come home with +me,' John Camm called out lustily.</p> + +<p>But ruddy-cheeked John Audland, the linen-draper of Crosslands, had +been quicker than the elderly farmer. He was a happy bridegroom that +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span>summer, and bringing his wife with him for the first time to Sedbergh +Fair. She—a Seeker like himself—had been known in her maiden days as +gentle Anne Newby of Kendal town: yet the ways of the dalesmen and of +the country people were in a measure strange to her, seeing all her +girlhood had been spent at her aunt's house in London town, where she +had received her education. Possibly she had looked forward not +without dread to the rough merry-making of the Fair; but she too had +kindled at the Stranger's message. Her shyness fled from her as, with +her hand locked fast in her husband's, the two pressed forward. The +crowd seemed to melt away at sight of their radiant faces, and almost +before the sermon was ended the young couple found themselves face to +face with the preacher. The same longing was in both their hearts: the +same words rose unbidden to their lips: 'Come back with us to +Crosslands, Sir! Come back and be the first guest to bless our home.'</p> + +<p>George Fox smiled as he met the eager gaze of the young folk, and +stretched out a friendly hand. But an old slow man with a long white +beard had forestalled even the impetuous rush of the youthful bride +and bridegroom.</p> + +<p>'Nay; now, good friends,' said Farmer Thomas Blaykling of Drawwell, +'my home is nigh at hand. For the next three days the Stranger is +mine. He must stay with me and I will bring him to Firbank Chapel on +Sunday. Come ye also thither and hear him again, and bring every +seeking man and woman and child in all these dales to hear him too; +and thereafter ye shall have him in your turn and entertain him where +ye will.'</p> + + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> +<h4>II</h4> + +<p>The first three peaceful days after the Fair were spent by the young +preacher at Drawwell Farm, knitting up a friendship with its inmates +that neither time nor suffering was able thereafter to unravel.</p> + +<p>'The house inhabited by the Blayklings may still be seen. Its thick +walls, small windows and rooms, with the clear well behind, must be +almost in the same condition as in the week we are remembering.'<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a></p> + +<p>In later days many a 'mighty Meeting' was to be held in the big barn +that adjoins the small whitewashed house with its grey flagged roof. +Drawwell is situated about two miles away from Sedbergh, on the sunny +slope of a hill overlooking the River Lune, that here forms the +boundary between the two counties of Westmorland and Yorkshire.</p> + +<p>There, under the shadow of the great fells, George Fox had time for +many a quiet talk with his hosts, in the days that followed the +Whitsuntide Fair. John Blaykling, the farmer's son, was a man of +strong character. He was afterwards to become himself a powerful +preacher of the Truth and to suffer for it when persecution came. +Moreover, 'he was a great supporter of them that were in low +circumstances in the world, often assisting them in difficult cases to +the exposing of himself to great hazards of loss.'</p> + +<p>He had also an especial care for the feelings of others. On the Sunday +after the Fair he was anxious to take his guest to Firbank Chapel, +where the Seekers' service was to be held, high up on the hill +opposite Drawwell. Yet he seems to have had some misgivings that his +guest might be too full of his own <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span>powerful message to remember to +behave courteously to others, who, although in a humbler way, were +still trying to declare the Truth as far as they had a knowledge of +it. Fox writes in his Journal:</p> + +<div class="block2"><p>'And the next First day I came to Firbank Chapel, where Francis +Howgill and John Audland were preaching in the morning, and John +Blaykling and others came to me and desired me not to reprove +them publicly, for they was not parish teachers but pretty sober +men, but I would not tell them whether I would or no, though I +had little in me to declare publicly against them, but told them +they must leave me to the Lord's movings. The chapel was full of +people and many could not get in. Francis Howgill (who was +preaching) said he thought I looked into the Chapel, but I did +not. And he said that I might have killed him with a crab-apple, +the Lord's power had so surprised him.</p> + +<p>'So they had quickly done with their preaching to the people at +that time, and they and the people went to their dinners, but +abundance stayed till they came again. And I went to a brook and +got me a little water, and so I came and sat me down atop of a +rock, (for the word of the Lord came to me that I must go and +sit upon the rock in the mountain, even as Christ had done +before).</p> + +<p>'And in the afternoon the people gathered about me with several +separate teachers, where it was judged there was above a +thousand people. And all those several separate teachers were +convinced of God's everlasting truth that day, amongst whom I +declared freely and largely God's everlasting truth and word of +life about three hours. And there was many old <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span>people went into +the chapel and looked out of the windows and thought it a +strange thing to see a man to preach on a hill or mountain, and +not in their church as they called it. So I was made to open to +the people that the steeple-house and the ground whereon it +stood was no more holier than that mountain ... but Christ was +come who ended the temple and the priests and the tithes, and +Christ said, "Learn of me," and God said, "This is my beloved +Son, hear ye Him."</p> + +<p>'For the Lord had sent me with His everlasting gospel to preach, +and His word of life so that they all might come to know Christ +their Teacher, their Counsellor, their Shepherd to feed them, +and their Bishop to oversee them, and their Prophet to open to +them, and to know their bodies to be temples of God and Christ +for them to dwell in.... And so, turning the people to the +Spirit of God, and from the darkness to the light, that they +might believe in it and become children of light.'</p></div> + + +<h4>III</h4> + +<p>'Now, it is our turn,' insisted ruddy-faced John Audland, 'George Fox +must come home with me. My house at Crosslands will be the most +convenient resting-place for him, seeing it lies mid-way between here +and Preston Patrick; and to Preston Patrick and the General Meeting of +our Seeking People he must certainly come, since it is to be held in +three days' time. There are many folk, still seeking, on the other +side of the dales, who have not yet heard the good news, but who will +rejoice mightily when they find him there. Besides, he has promised my +wife that he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span>will be the first guest to come and bless our home.'</p> + +<p>'Yes in truth, he shall return with thee,' echoed Audland's friend, +John Camm of Cammsgill, 'since Preston Patrick is too far a step for +him to-day. He shall lodge with thee and thy good wife Anne, and bless +your home. But on Wednesday, betimes, thou must bring him to me at +Cammsgill right early in the day—and I will take him as my guest to +Preston Patrick and our Seekers' Meeting.'</p> + +<p>John Audland readily assented to this proposal. He and his wife would +have the wonderful Stranger all to themselves until Wednesday. As the +two men wandered back over the hills in a satisfied silence, his mind +was full of all the questions he meant to ask. For had not he himself, +though only a youth of twenty-two, been one of the appointed preachers +at Firbank Chapel? Truly he had done his best there, as at other +times, to feed the people; yet in spite of his words they had seemed +ever hungry, until the Stranger came among them, breaking the True +Bread of Life for all to share.</p> + +<p>John Audland was 'a young man of a comely countenance, and very lovely +qualities.'<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> Never a thought of jealousy or envy crossed his mind; +only he was filled with a longing to know more, to learn, to be fed +himself, that he, in his turn, might feed others. Still, being but +human, it was with slight irritation that he heard himself hailed with +a loud 'halloo!' from behind. Looking round, he beheld a long-legged +figure ambling after them along the dusty road, and recognised a +certain tactless youth, John Story by name, famous throughout the +district for <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>his knack of thrusting himself in where he was least +wanted. Without so much as a 'by your leave' John Story caught up the +other two men and began a lively conversation as they walked along.</p> + +<p>Self-invited, he followed them into John Audland's home; where the +young bride, Anne, was too well bred to betray her disappointment at +this unexpected visitor. Elbowing his way rudely past the master of +the house and the invited guest, John Story stalked ahead into the +bridal parlour and sat himself down deliberately in the best chair. +'I'm your first guest now, Mistress Anne,' he said with a chuckle. +Then lighting his pipe he threw his head back and made himself +comfortable—evidently intending to stay the evening. But his chief +care and intention was to patronise George Fox. He had been at Firbank +also, and he had remembered enough of the sermon there to repeat some +of the preacher's words jestingly to his face. He handed his lighted +pipe to George Fox, saying, 'Come, will you take a pipe of +tobacco?'—and added, mockingly, seeing his hesitation, 'Come, all is +ours!'</p> + +<p>'But,' says George Fox, 'I looked upon him to be a forward bold lad; +and tobacco I did not take. But it came into my mind that the lad +might think I had not unity with the creation: for I saw he had a +flashy, empty notion of religion. So I took his pipe and put it to my +mouth, and gave it to him again to stop him lest his rude tongue +should say I had not unity with the creation.'</p> + +<p>And soon after this, let us hope, John Story, with his tobacco and his +rude tongue, saw fit to take his leave, and remove his unwelcome +presence.</p> + + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> +<h4>IV</h4> + +<p>Two more days of the 'wonderful fortnight' were passed in the +linen-draper's home at Crosslands before, on the Wednesday forenoon, +John Audland and his guest descended the dales of Westmorland and +climbed the steep, wooded glen that leads to Cammsgill Farm. There, at +the door, with hands outstretched in welcome, stood good John Camm and +his loving wife Mabel. Peeping behind them curiously at the Stranger +was their twelve-year-old son, Tom. At the windows of the farm were to +be seen the faces of the men-servants and maid-servants, for great was +the curiosity to see the Stranger of whom such great tidings had been +told. Among the serving-maids were two sisters, Jane and Dorothy +Waugh. Little did the eager girls imagine that the Stranger whom they +eyed so keenly was to alter the whole course of their lives by his +words that day; that, for both of them, the pleasant, easy, farm life +at Cammsgill was over, and that they were hereafter to go forth to +preach in their turn, to suffer beatings and cruel imprisonments, and +even to cross the seas, in order to publish the same Truth that he had +come to proclaim.</p> + +<p>Tom Camm also, boy as he was, was never to forget that eventful +morning. Long years afterwards he remembered every detail of it.</p> + +<p>'On the 4th day morning,' he writes, 'John Audland came with George +Fox to the house of John Camm at Cammsgill in Preston Patrick, who +with his wife and familie gladly received G.F.'</p> + +<p>And now, while they are 'gladly receiving' their guest and waiting +till it is time to go down the steep <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>hill to Preston Patrick, let us +look back at the farm-house of Cammsgill where they are sitting, and +learn something of its history and that of its owners.</p> + +<p>It was to Cammsgill that Farmer John Camm had brought home his bride +on a late day of summer, thirteen years before the eventful year 1652 +of which these stories tell. A wise, prosperous man was good John +Camm, one of the most successful 'statesmen' in all the fertile dales +round about. So busy had he been developing his farm, and attending to +the numerous flocks and herds, that were ever increasing under his +skilful management, that time for love-making seemed to have been left +out of his life. But at last, when he was well over forty, he found +the one woman he had been unconsciously needing through all his +prosperous years to make his life round and complete. It was a mellow +day of Indian summer when John and Mabel Camm walked up the winding +road to Cammsgill for the first time as man and wife. But the golden +sunshine that lay on all the burnished riches of the well-filled +farm-yard was dim compared with the inward sunshine that gladdened the +farmer's heart.</p> + +<p>Farmer John had made a wise choice, and he knew it. In his eyes +nothing was good enough for his wife, not even the home where he had +been born, and where his ancestors for generations had lived and died; +so Cammsgill had been entirely rebuilt before that golden September +day when John and Mabel Camm came home to begin their new life +together. The re-building had been done in such solid fashion that +part of the farm-house still stands, well-proportioned and +serviceable, after nearly three <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span>centuries have passed to test it, +showing that he who builds for love builds truly and well.</p> + +<p>Mabel Camm was a proud woman as she stood at the door of her hillside +home and watched the autumn sunlight lighting up her husband's face as +he walked across his fields in the valley, or strode, almost with the +energetic step of a young man, up the crab-apple bordered track to the +farm.</p> + +<p>Close at his heels followed his collie, looking up into his master's +face with adoring affection. Not only every animal on the farm loved +the master, the men-servants and maid-servants also would do anything +to please him, for was he not ever mindful of their interests as if +they had been his own? In those days each labourer had three or four +acres of land as of right. This fostered an independent spirit and +made their affection a tribute worth the winning.<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> Later on that +same year, when winter came, earlier than its wont, the fells were +knee-deep in snow and all the beasts were brought for shelter round +the farm to protect them from the snow-drifts and bitter weather on +the upland pastures.</p> + +<p>Then it was that at nights in the snug farm-house kitchen, after the +day's work was done, John Camm and his young wife together carved +their initials on the 'brideswain,' a tall oak chest that held the +goodly stock of homespun linen and flax brought by Mabel Camm to her +new home. John Camm was something of an artist. His was the design of +the interlaced initials. All his life he had been a skilful carver +with his tools on the winter evenings, and now he took pleasure in +showing his bride the right <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>way to use them and how to fashion her +strokes aright. Night after night the two heads bent over their task, +but to this day it may still be seen at Cammsgill that one of the two +artists was less skilful than the other, for Mabel's curves are more +angular and without the careless ease of her husband's. What, however, +did unskilful fingers matter when the firelight shone upon two happy +faces bending over the work close together, aglow with the inner +radiance of two thankful hearts?</p> + +<p>There were other uses for the brideswain the following summer. The +fair white sheets and pillow-cases were moved to an under-shelf. The +upper half of the chest was filled to overflowing with tiny garments +fashioned by Mabel's own fingers, skilful indeed at this dainty work. +No more woodcarving now, but endless rows of stitchery, tiny tucks and +delicate dotting, all ready to welcome the little son who arrived +before the summer's close, and completed his parents' joy.</p> + +<p>Since that day, a dozen years had slipped away. Now young Thomas Camm +was leaving childhood, as he had long left babyhood, behind him. He +was a big boy, quick, strong for his age, and bidding fair to be as +good a farmer as his father some day.</p> + +<p>'Cammsgill was a favourite house with both men and women servants, for +Mistress Camm took care that all had their fill of bread, butter, +milk, eggs or bacon, and each their three meals. Of the maid-servants, +Jane and Dorothy Waugh especially looked on their master as a father, +he was so kind and thoughtful of their needs. Indeed no one could walk +up the winding gill without meeting with a warm welcome from the +owners of the farm-house, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span>and on winter evenings there was many a +large "sitting," by aid of the rushlights, in which the neighbours +joined, all hands being busy the while with the knitting of caps and +jerseys for the Kendal trade.... He and his wife greatly loved to +entertain visitors from a distance, especially those who were +like-minded with themselves, also looking for "the coming of the day +of the Lord,"'<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> for all the household at Cammsgill were of the +company of the "Seekers" who met every month at the Chapel of Preston +Patrick in the valley below.</p> + +<p>Now at last it is time for the Meeting.</p> + +<p>Thomas Camm's account continues: 'And it having been then a common +practice among the said seeking and religiously inclined people to +raise a General Meeting at Preston Patrick Chapel once a month, upon +the fourth day of the week, thither George Fox went, being accompanied +with John Audland and John Camm. John Audland would have had George +Fox go into the place or pew where usually he and the preacher did +sit, but he refused and took a back seat near the door, and John Camm +sat down by him, where he sat silent, waiting upon God for about half +an hour, in which time of silence Francis Howgill seemed uneasy, and +pulled out his Bible and opened it, and stood up several times, +sitting down again and closing his book, and dread and fear being on +him that he durst not begin to preach. After the said silence and +waiting George Fox stood up in the mighty power of God, and in the +demonstration thereof was his mouth opened to preach Christ Jesus, the +Light of Life, and the way to God, and Saviour of all <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span>that believe +and obey Him, which was delivered in that power and that authority +that most of the auditory, which were several hundreds, were +effectually reached to the heart, and convinced of the truth that very +day, for it was the day of God's power. A notable day indeed, never to +be forgotten by me Thomas Camm.... I, being then present at that +Meeting, a school-boy but about twelve years of age, yet, I bless the +Lord for His mercy, then religiously inclined, do still remember that +blessed and glorious day, in which my soul, by that living testimony +then borne in the demonstration of God's power, was effectually +opened, reached and convinced, with many more who are seals of that +powerful ministry that attended this faithful minister of the Lord +Jesus Christ, and by which we were convinced, and turned from darkness +to light and from Satan's power to the power of God. After which +Meeting at Preston Chapel, G.F. came to the house of John Camm at +Cammsgill. Next day travelled to Kendal where he had a meeting, where +many were convinced and received his testimony with joy.'</p> + +<p>The 'wonderful fortnight' was drawing to a close. The vision on Pendle +Hill, when George Fox beheld a people 'as thick as motes in the sun +that should in time be brought home to the Lord,' had already begun to +form around it a Society of Friends who were pledged to carry it out.</p> + +<p>Remember always, it was not the Society that beheld the vision; it was +the vision that created and creates the Society.</p> + +<p>The vision is the important thing; for it is still unfulfilled.</p> + +<br /> +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<br /> + +<h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> Ernest E. Taylor, <i>A Great People to be gathered.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> Sewel's <i>History of the Quakers.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> E.E. Taylor, <i>Faithful Servants of God.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> E.E. Taylor, <i>Faithful Servants of God.</i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="IX_UNDER_THE_YEW-TREES" id="IX_UNDER_THE_YEW-TREES"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>IX. UNDER THE YEW-TREES<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'George Fox was a born leader of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +souls. The flame of religious +ardour which burned in him, and +the intense conviction and +spiritual power with which he +spoke, would in any age have made +him great. He was born in a +generation of revolutions and +upheavals, both political and +spiritual. Confusion and unrest, +war and reformations, give to +great spirits a power which, when +life is calmer, they might not +attain. Fox drew to himself a +multitude of noble souls, +attracted to him by that which +they shared with him, the sense of +spiritual realities, and the +consciousness of the guiding +Spirit. The age of George Fox +thirsted for spiritual reality. He +had found it. Men on all sides +were ready to find it as he had. +The dales of Yorkshire, and the +hills of lakeland, not less than +the towns of the Midlands, had men +in them ready to rejoice in the +touch of the spiritual, ready to +respond to the movement of the +Spirit. See him then arriving at +some farm-yard in the hills, or +may be at a country squire's +hall....'<span class="fakesc" style="white-space: nowrap;">—CYRIL +HEPHER</span>, 'Fellowship of +Silence.'</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'The house was no doubt full of +music, as were indeed many others, +in that most musical of English +centuries.'<span class="fakesc">—J. BAILEY</span>, +'Milton.'</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>Motto on Seal of a letter to M. +Fell:</i></p> + +<p class="cen"> +1660<br /> +'<i><span class="fakesc">GOD ABOVE<br /> +KEEP US IN HIS LIGHT<br /> +AND LOVE.</span></i>'<br /> +</p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>IX. UNDER THE YEW-TREES</h3> +<br /> + +<p>Six gay girls sat together, laughing and talking, under the shadow of +the ancient yew-trees that guard the eastern corner of Swarthmoor +Hall. The interlaced boughs of the gloomy old trees made a cool canopy +of shadow above the merry maidens. It was a breathless day of late +June, 1652, at the very end of the 'wonderful fortnight.'</p> + +<p>There they were, Judge Fell's six fair daughters: Margaret, Bridget, +Isabel, Sarah, Mary and little Susanna, who was but three years old, +on that hot summer afternoon.</p> + +<p>''Tis a pity that there are only six of us,' Sarah was saying with +mock melancholy. 'Now, suppose my brother George instead of being a +boy had been a girl, then there would have been seven. The Seven +Sisters of Swarthmoor Hall! In truth it has a gallant sound like unto +a play. Seven Young Sisters and Seven Ancient Yew Trees! Each of us +might have a yew-tree then for her very own.' So saying, Sarah leant +back against the huge gnarled trunk behind her, her golden curls +rippling like sunshine over the wrinkled wood, while her blue eyes +peered into the dark-green depths overhead.</p> + +<p>'Moreover, in that case,' continued Isabel, with a touch of sarcasm in +her voice, 'and supposing the Seventh Sister, who doth not exist, were +to have seven more daughters in her turn,—then it might be expected +that the Seventh Daughter of that Seventh Daughter would have keener +than mortal hearing, and sharper than mortal sight. She would be able +to hear the grass growing, and know when the fairies were making +their <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span>rings, and be able to catch the Brownies at their tasks, so the +country people say. Heigh ho! I wish she were here! Or I would that I +myself were the Seventh Daughter of a Seventh Daughter, or still +better the Seventh Son of a Seventh Son, for they have real true +second sight, and can look in magic crystals and foresee things to +come.'</p> + +<p>'Now it is my turn,' chimed in Bridget, 'I am the eldest but one, and +it is time I talked a little. Then when the Seventh Daughter of the +Seventh Daughter walks hand in hand with the Seventh Son of a Seventh +Son (neither of whom, allow me to remind you in passing, ever have +existed, or, it is to be hoped, ever will exist in a well-connected +family like ours), when they walk hand in hand under the shade of the +Seven Ancient Yew-trees which, we all know, have guarded Swarthmoor +for centuries ... the Seven Ancient Trees will be sure to overhear +them whispering honeyed nothings to each other. Then the oldest and +wisest of all the Trees (by the bye, it is that one behind you, +Isabel!) will say, "Dearly beloved Children, although the words you +say are incredibly foolish, yet to me they sound almost wise compared +with the still more incredibly foolish conversation carried on beneath +my old boughs in the Year of our Lord one thousand six hundred and +fifty-two by your ever venerable Great Aunt Isabel and your still more +venerable Great Aunt Sarah!"'</p> + +<p>'O <i>Bridget</i>,' came in aggrieved tones from the two younger girls as +they flung themselves upon her and put laughing hands over her mouth, +'that is too bad, that is unkind.'</p> + +<p>The eldest sister, Margaret, looked up from <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span>the low bench where she +was sitting with Mary and Susanna, the two youngest children beside +her. Seeing the struggling heap of muslin and ribbons on the grass she +resolutely turned the talk into less personal channels. 'I do not at +all agree with Sarah,' she said calmly, 'besides it is much too hot to +argue. For my part, <i>I</i> think Six Sisters are fully enough for any +household. If I had more than five younger ones to look after, I don't +know what I should do. Even for the yew-trees it is better. There is +one now for each of us to sit under, and one to spare for my mother +when at last she comes home. I wonder what makes her so late? When +will she be here?'</p> + +<p>A ripple of expectation stirred the maidens. Moved by the same +impulse, they all looked out under the dark yew branches and over the +sunlit orchard, beyond which lay the high road leading up the hill +from Ulverston. Nothing as yet was to be seen and no faintest rumble +of approaching wheels reached any of the listeners.</p> + +<p>Everywhere the hot air quivered in the sunshine. Even the stately +Elizabethan Hall with its high stone chimneys and mullioned bay +windows looked drowsy and half asleep. A pale wisp of smoke was +ascending listlessly in a straight line above the gabled roofs high up +into the far still air. Scarcely a sound came from the outbuildings +that lay beyond the Hall. Even the pigeons on the roof were too hot to +coo. In the herb garden beneath, the flowers drooped in the scorching +light. Glare everywhere. Only under the yew-trees was there to be +found a pool of grateful shadow. And even that pool had a sunshine of +its own radiating from the group of merry maidens, with their bright +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>faces and gay voices raised in perpetual talk, or laughter, or song. +For a little while they seemed to be busy practising a madrigal. Then +the irrepressible chatter burst out afresh. Cool and fragrant all the +maidens looked, in their dresses of clear sprigged muslin, each tied +at waist, wrists, and throat with ribbons of a different colour: +lilac, lavender, primrose, cherry, emerald, and blue. The garden roses +might droop in the hot garden outside, but the roses on the girls' +cheeks, instead of fading, flushed and deepened with growing +excitement. They all seemed full of suppressed eagerness, evidently +waiting for something much desired to happen.</p> + +<p>At length tall Bridget, exclaiming, 'It must be time now!' sprang to +her feet, and, stooping under the clinging boughs of the yew-tree +temple, drew herself up to her full height outside its shade. Her gaze +roamed over the long grass of the orchard and down the broad path, to +the high stone arch of the entrance gate through which she could just +catch sight of a glimpse of dusty road.</p> + +<p>'Nothing yet!' she reported, 'not even a sign of the black horses' +ears or heads above the hedge and not a sound upon the road.'</p> + +<p>Margaret raised her head to listen. She inherited her mother's placid, +Madonna-like beauty, and was at this time the fairest of the whole +sisterhood. Sarah, who was hereafter to be considered not only the wit +but also the beauty of the family, was at this time a child of ten, +and not yet grown into her full inheritance of comeliness. In after +years it was said of Sarah that she was 'not only beautiful and lovely +to a high degree, but was wonderfully happy in ingeny and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>memory.' +But even at her loveliest it was never said of her, as it was of +Margaret, that she was 'glorious, comely, and beautiful in that which +never fades away,' 'lovely in the truth, an example of holiness and +wisdom.'</p> + +<p>This comely Margaret, seeing and hearing nothing of what she sought, +bent her fair face down once more to the little sisters seated on each +side of her. To beguile the waiting time she was making for them a +chain of the daisies they had gathered as they flitted about, like gay +white butterflies, over the grass. Mary was eight years old, and +therefore able to pick daisies with discretion; but the stalks of the +flowers gathered by little Susanna were all sadly too short and the +flowers themselves suffered in her tight hot hand. At this moment +Isabel ran to join Bridget and, standing on tiptoe beside her, tried +hard to see as much as her taller sister.</p> + +<p>'Nothing yet,' she reported, 'not a sign of the black horses nor even +the top of the coach.' Sarah, not to be outdone, swung herself up, +with a laugh, on to one of the lower boughs of the oldest yew-tree, +and standing on it thrust her golden head through the thick canopy +overhead. She peered out in her turn looking across the orchard and +over the hedge to the road, then, bending down with a laughing face to +Margaret and the little ones, 'I'm tallest now,' she exclaimed, 'and I +shall be the first to spy the coach when it reaches the top of the +hill!'</p> + +<p>But agile Isabel, ever ready to follow a sister's lead, had already +left Bridget's side and swung herself up, past Sarah, on to a yet +higher bough.</p> + +<p>'Methinks not, Mistress Sarah,' she called over her head, slowly and +demurely, 'for now I can see yet <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span>farther, and there are the horses' +ears and heads; yea and the chariot also, and now, at last! our +mother's face!'</p> + +<p>But the group below had not waited for her tidings. They had heard the +rumble of the wheels and the horses' feet on the road. With cries of +joy, off they all sped down the path and across the orchard; to see +who should be first at the gate to welcome their mother. Only Margaret +stayed behind on her bench among the scattered daisies, with a +slightly pensive expression on her lovely face.</p> + +<p>'All of them flying to greet her!' Margaret thought to herself. 'See, +Bridget has caught up even Susanna in her arms, that she shall not be +left too far behind; while I, the eldest, whom my mother doth ever +call her right hand, am forced to stay here. But my mother knows that +my knee prevents me. She will not forget her Margaret. Already she +sees me, and is beckoning the others to come this way.'</p> + +<p>In truth Mistress Fell had already alighted and was now passing +swiftly under the high stone arch of the gateway. Never did she come +through that gate without a flash of remembrance of the first time she +entered there, leaning on her husband's arm, a bride of seventeen +summers, younger than her own fair Margaret now. She entered, this +time, leaning on the arm of tall Bridget, walking as if she were a +trifle weary, yet stooping to pick up little Susanna and to cover her +with kisses as she moved up the path surrounded by her cloud of girls.</p> + +<p>'Not the house, maids,' she cried, 'the yew-trees first! I see my +Margaret waiting there. Your news, how marvellous soever, must wait +until I have greeted <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span>my right-hand daughter and learned how she +fares.'</p> + +<p>'How art thou, dear Heart?' she enquired, as she stooped down and +kissed her eldest daughter, and sat down beside her. 'Hath thy knee +pained thee a little less this afternoon?'</p> + +<p>'Much less,' answered Margaret gaily, 'in fact I had almost forgotten +it, and was about to rise and welcome you with the rest, when a sudden +ache reminded me that I must not run yet awhile.'</p> + +<p>Mistress Fell shook her head. 'I fear that I shall have to take thee +to London and to Wapping for the waters some day. I cannot have my +bird unable to fly like the rest of the brood, and obliged to wait +behind with a clipped wing.'</p> + +<p>'Young Margrett,' as she was called, to distinguish her from her +mother, laughed aloud. 'Nay now, sweet mother, 'tis nothing,' she +replied. 'Let us think of more cheerful things. In truth we have much +to tell you, for we have had an afternoon of visitors and many +happenings in thy absence.'</p> + +<p>'Visitors?' A slight furrow showed itself in the elder Margaret's +smooth forehead. 'Well, that is not strange, since the door of +Swarthmoor stands ever open to welcome guests, as all the country +knows. Still I would that I had been at home, or thy father. Who were +the visitors, daughter?'</p> + +<p>It was Bridget who answered.</p> + +<p>'My father hath often said that there has been scarce a day without a +visitor at Swarthmoor since he first brought you here as its +mistress,' she began primly, 'but in all these years, mother, I doubt +you have never set eyes on such an one as our guest of to-day. Priest +Lampitt said the same.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span>'Priest Lampitt? Hath he been here? And I not at home. Truly, it +grieves me, children, to have missed our good neighbour. Did he then +bring a stranger with him?'</p> + +<p>'No, No, No,' a chorus of dissent broke from the girls, all now seated +round their mother on the grass, each eager to be the first to tell +the tale, yet at a loss for words. Bridget, as usual, stepped into the +gap. She explained that 'the Priest had been amazed to find the +Stranger here. They had had much discourse. Till at last, Priest +Lampitt, waxing hot and fiery ere he departed, strode down the flagged +path slashing all the flowers with his cane and never seemed to know +what he was doing, though you know, mother, that he loves our garden.'</p> + +<p>A shade of real annoyance crossed Mistress Fell's face. 'The good +Priest angered in my house,' she said, with real concern in her voice, +'and I not there, but only a pack of giddy maids, who had not wit +enough between them to keep a discourteous stranger in his place and +prevent his being rude to an old friend! Nay, now, maidens, speak not +all together. Ye are too young and do but babble. Let Bridget +continue, or my Margaret. Either of them I can trust.' But 'young +Margrett' was bending her head still lower, seemingly over her daisy +chain.</p> + +<p>'Truly, mother,' she said in a low voice close to her mother's ear, +'there are no words for him. He is so—different; I knew not that +earth held a man like him. And he will be coming back shortly to the +house—maybe he is already awaiting you!'</p> + +<p>Mistress Fell looked up now in undisguised alarm. Who was this +nameless Stranger who had invaded her <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span>house during her absence, and +had apparently stolen the heart of her discreet and dignified +Margaret, in one interview, by the mere sight of his charms? Young, +handsome, quarrelsome; who could he be? What had brought him to +Swarthmoor to destroy its peace?</p> + +<p>She turned to capable Bridget for information. Bridget, never at a +loss, understood her mother's fears, or some of them, and immediately +answered reassuringly, 'Be not disquieted, sweet mother. Nothing +really untoward has happened. It is true the Stranger disputed hotly +with Lampitt, but it was the Priest's blame as much as the Stranger's +at first, though afterwards, when Lampitt held out his hand and wished +to be friendly, the Stranger turned from him and shook him off. Yet, +though his actions were harsh there was gentleness in his face and +bearing. He is a man of goodly presence, this Stranger, but quite, +quite old, thirty or thereabouts by my guessing.'</p> + +<p>The elder Margaret smiled. Bridget continued hastily: 'Or may be more. +Any way he seemed older from his gravity, and from his outlandish +dress. Under his coat could be seen a leather doublet and breeches, +and on his head he wore a large, soft, white hat.'</p> + +<p>At these words the concern in Mistress Fell's face disappeared in a +moment. A quick look of welcome sprang into her eyes.</p> + +<p>'A man in a white hat!' she exclaimed. 'Perhaps, then, his coming +forbodes good to us after all. It was only the other night that, as I +lay a-dreaming, I saw a man in a large white hat coming towards me. I +had been seeking for guidance on my knees, for often I fear we are not +wholly in the right way, with all our seeking and religious exercises. +In answer to my <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span>prayer there came towards me, in my dream, a man, and +I knew that he was to be the messenger of God to me and to all my +household. Tell me more, maidens, of this Stranger, how he came and +whence, and why he left and when he will return.'</p> + +<p>This time it was 'young Margrett' who answered. Seeing the sympathy in +her Mother's eyes, she found her voice at last, and rejoined quickly:</p> + +<p>'He resembleth a Priest somewhat, yet not altogether. He speaketh with +more authority than anyone I ever heard. Grave he is too. Grave as my +father when he is executing justice. Yet, for all his gravity, as +Bridget says, he is wondrous gentle. None of us were affrighted at +him, and the little maids ran to him as they do to my father. +Moreover, he showed them a curious seal he carried in his pocket with +letters intertwined among roses, a "G" I saw, and an "F." Afterwards +he took them on his knees and blessed them and they were wholly at +ease. Priest Lampitt, who had been watching through a window, his +countenance strangely altered by his rage, now took his departure. +Seeing him go, the Stranger put down the children gently, setting +Susanna with both her feet squarely on the polished floor, as I have +seen a shepherd set down a lamb, as if afeared that it might slip. +Then he turned in sorrow and spoke a few words to his companion. This +was the man who brought him hither, one of the Seekers from +Wensleydale or thereabouts, I should judge from his language; but +truly none of us paid much heed to him. The two of them left the Hall +together, and passed down through the herb-garden, and over the +stream. Once I noticed the Stranger turn and gaze back at the house, +searching <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span>each window, as if looking for something he found not +there. Also he smiled at sight of the yew-trees, with a greeting as if +they were old friends. Bridget declares that she heard the Stranger, +our Stranger, say that he would return hither shortly, when he had set +his companion a short distance on his homeward way. But that is now +more than two hours agone, and as yet he hath not reappeared.'</p> + +<p>'Well then, maids,' replied Mistress Fell briskly, 'let us not linger +here. It is high time we went back to the house to welcome our guest, +on his return.' So saying, she rose to her feet, and aiding 'young +Margrett' with one hand, she drew aside with the other the thick +screen of the branches. A ray of sunshine fell upon Margaret Fell, +standing there, in the velvety gloom of the old yew-trees, with her +six young daughters round her. Sunshine was in her heart too, as she +looked down fondly at them for a moment.</p> + +<p>Then, lifting up her eyes, she recognised the unknown man she had seen +in her dream. In the full blaze of sunlight, coming straight up the +flagged path towards her was a Stranger, wearing a white hat. And thus +did Mistress Margaret Fell behold for the first time <span class="fakesc">GEORGE +FOX</span>.</p> + +<div class="img"> +<a href="images/imagep161.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep161.jpg" alt="GF" /></a><br /> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span><br /> +<a name="X_BEWITCHED" id="X_BEWITCHED"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>X. 'BEWITCHED!'<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'When ye do judge of matters, or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> +when ye do judge of words, or when +ye do judge of persons, all these +are distinct things. A wise man +will not give both his ears to one +party but reserve one for the +other party, and will hear both, +and then judge.'<span class="fakesc">—G. +FOX.</span></i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'And after I came to one Captain +Sands, which he and his wife if +they could have had the world and +truth they would have received it. +But they was hypocrites and he a +very light chaffy man, and the way +was too strait for him.'<span class="fakesc">—G. +FOX.</span></i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'James the First was crazed +beyond his English subjects with +the witch mania of Scotland and +the Continent. No sooner had his +first parliament enacted new death +laws than the judges and the +magistrates, the constable and the +mob began to hunt up the oldest +and ugliest spinster who lived +with her geese on the common, or +tottered about the village street. +Many pleaded guilty, and described +the covenants they had formed with +black dogs and "goblins called +Tibb"; others were beaten or +terrified into fictitious +confessions, or perished, denying +their guilt to the last. The black +business culminated during the +Civil Wars when scores of women +were put to death.'<span class="fakesc">—G.M. +TREVELYAN.</span></i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>X. 'BEWITCHED!'</h3> +<br /> + +<p>Saint Swithin's feast was passed. It was a sultry, thundery afternoon +of mid July, when three horsemen were to be seen carefully picking +their way across the wide wet estuary of the River Leven that goes by +the name of 'the Sands.' The foremost rider was evidently the most +important person of the three. He was an oldish man with a careworn +face, and deepset eyes occasionally lighted by a smile, as he urged +his weary horse across the sand. This was no less a person than Judge +Fell himself, the master of Swarthmoor Hall, attended by his clerk and +his groom, and returning to his home after a lengthy absence on +circuit. A man of wide learning, of sound knowledge of affairs, and +gifted with an excellent judgment was Thomas Fell. He was as popular +now, in the autumn of his days among his country neighbours, as he had +been in former times in Parliament, and among the Puritan leaders. +Thrice had he represented his native county in the House of Commons, +and had been a trusted friend of Oliver Cromwell himself. It was only +latterly, men said, since Oliver showed a disposition to grasp more +and ever more power for himself that the good Judge, unable to prevent +that of which he disapproved, had retired from the intricate problems +and difficulties of the Capital. He now filled the office of Judge on +the Welsh Circuit and later on that of Vice-Chancellor of the Duchy of +Lancaster. But whether he dwelt in the country or in London town it +was all one. Wherever he came, men thought highly of him.<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> The +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span>good thirsted for his approval. The bad trembled to meet his eye. Yet, +it was noted, that even when he was obliged to sentence some poor +wretch, he seemed to commiserate him, and he ever sought to throw the +weight of his influence on the side of mercy, although no man could be +sterner at times, especially when he dealt with a case of treachery or +cold-blooded cruelty.</p> + +<p>The lines of his countenance were rugged, yet underneath there was +always an expression of goodwill, and a kindly light in his eyes that +seemed to come from some still quiet fount of happiness within. It was +said of the Judge, and truly, that he had the happiest home, the +fairest and wisest wife, and the goodliest young family, of any man in +the county. That had been a joyful day, indeed, for him, twenty years +before, when he brought the golden-haired Margaret Askew, the heiress +of Marsh Grange, as his bride to the old grey Hall of Swarthmoor. +Sixteen full years younger than her husband was she, yet a wondrous +wise-hearted woman, and his companion in all things.</p> + +<p>Now that a son and six fair daughters filled the old Hall with music +and gay laughter all day long, the Judge might well be no less proud +of his 'great family' than even of having been Oliver Cromwell's +friend.</p> + +<p>He was ever loath to leave that cherished home for his long absences +on the Chester and North Welsh Circuit, and ever joyful when the day +came that he might return thither. Even the heavy sand that clogged +his horse's feet could hardly make him check his pace. The sands of +Morecambe Bay are perilous at times, especially to strangers, for the +tide flows in with such swiftness that even a galloping horse may not +escape <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span>it. But the Judge and his companions knew the dangers well +enough to avoid them. Their trained eyes instinctively marked the +slight depressions in the sand and the line of brogs, or half-hidden +trees, that guide travellers across by what is really the safest +route, although it may seem to take unnecessary loops and curves.<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> +At a little distance lay the lonely Chapel Island, surrounded by the +sea even at low tide, where in olden days lived a community of monks, +who tolled a bell to guide pilgrims across the shifting sands, or said +masses for the souls of those who perished.</p> + +<p>As his horse picked its way carefully, the Judge raised his eyes often +towards the high plateau on the horizon to which he was steadily +drawing nearer with every tedious step. Beloved Swarthmoor! The house +itself was hidden, but he could plainly discern the belt of trees in +which it stood. He thought of each of the inmates of that hidden home. +George, his only son, how straight and tall he was growing, how +gallant a rider, and how skilful a sportsman even now, though hasty in +temper and over apt to take offence. His gay maidens, were they at +this moment singing over some new madrigal prepared to greet him on +his return? In an hour or two he should see them all running down the +garden path to welcome him, from stately 'young Margrett' to little +toddling Susanna. His wife, his own Margaret, well he knew where she +would be! watching for him from the lattice of their chamber, where +she was ever the first to catch sight <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span>of him on his return, as she +had been the last to bid him farewell on his departure.</p> + +<p>At this point the good Judge's meditations were suddenly interrupted +by his groom, who, spurring his horse on a level with his Master's, +pointed respectfully, with upraised whip, towards several moving +specks that were hastening across the estuary.</p> + +<p>The softest bit of sand was over now, the travellers were reaching +firmer ground, where it was possible to go at a quicker pace. Setting +spurs to his horse the Judge hastened forward, his face flushing with +an anxiety he took no pains to conceal.</p> + +<p>In those days, when posts were rare and letters difficult to get or to +send, an absence of many weeks always meant the possibility of finding +bad news at home on the return from a journey.</p> + +<p>'Heaven send they bring me no ill tidings!' Judge Fell said to himself +as he cantered anxiously forward. Before long, it was possible to make +out that the moving specks were a little company of horsemen galloping +towards them over the sands. A few minutes later the Judge was +surrounded by a group of breathless riders and panting horses, with +bits and bridles flecked with foam.</p> + +<p>The Judge's fears increased as he recognised all his most important +neighbours. Their excited faces also struck him with dread. 'You bring +me bad news?' he had called out, as soon as the cavalcade came within +earshot. At the answering shout, 'Aye, the worst,' his heart had sunk +like lead. And now here he was actually in their midst, and not one of +them could speak. 'Out with it, friends,' he commanded, 'let me know +the worst. To whom hath evil happened? <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>To my wife? My son? My +daughters?'</p> + +<p>But even he was hardly prepared for the answer, low-breathed and +muttering like a roll of thunder: 'To all.'</p> + +<p>'To all!' cried the agonised father. 'Impossible! They cannot all be +dead!' Again came the ominous rejoinder, 'Worse, far worse,' and then, +in a shout from half-a-dozen throats at once, 'Far, far worse. They +are all bewitched!' Bewitched! that was indeed a word of ill-omen in +those days, a word at which no man, be his position ever so exalted, +could afford to smile. Ever since the days of the first Parliament of +the first Stuart king, the penalties for the sin of witchcraft had +been made increasingly severe. Although the country was now settling +down into an uneasy peace, after the turmoil of the Civil Wars, still +its witch hunts were even yet too recent a memory for a devoted +husband and father to hear the fatal accusation breathed against his +family without dismay. Not all a woman's youth and beauty might always +save her, if the hunt were keen. The Judge's lips were tightly pressed +together, but his unmoved countenance showed little of his inward +alarm as he gazed on the faces round him. His courteous neighbours, +who had ridden in such haste with the 'ill news' that 'travels fast,' +which of them all should enlighten him? His neighbour Captain Sands? a +jovial good-humoured man truly;—no, not he, he could not enter into a +husband and father's deep anxiety, seeing that he was ever of a +mocking disposition inwardly for all that he looked sober and scared +enough now. His brother Justice, John Sawrey? Instinctively Judge Fell +recoiled from the thought. Sawrey's <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span>countenance might be sober enough +in good sooth, seeing he was a leader among professing Puritans, but +somehow Judge Fell had always mistrusted the pompous little man. Even +bad news would be worsened if he had to hear it from those lips. +Therefore it was with considerable relief that the good Judge caught +sight of a well-known figure riding up more slowly than the others, +and now hovering on the outskirts of the group. 'The very man! My +honoured neighbour Priest Lampitt! You, the Priest of Ulverston, will +surely tell me what has befallen the members of my household, who are +likewise members of your flock?'</p> + +<p>But the Priest's face was even gloomier than that of the other +gentlemen. In the fewest possible words, but with stinging emphasis, +he told the Judge that the news was indeed too true; his wife and +young family, yea, and even the household servants had, one and all, +been bewitched.</p> + +<p>At this the Judge thought his wisest course was to laugh. 'Nay, nay, +good friends,' he said, 'that is too much! I know my wife. I trust her +good sense utterly. Still it is possible for even the wisest of women +to lose her judgment at times. But as for my trusty steward Thomas +Salthouse, the steadiest man I have ever had in my employ, if even old +Nick himself has managed to bewitch him, he must be a cleverer devil +than I thought.'</p> + +<p>Then drawing himself up proudly he added, 'So now, Gentlemen, I will +thank you to submit to me your evidence for these incredible and +baseless allegations.' Priest Lampitt hastened to explain. He spoke +with due respect of Mistress Fell, his 'honoured neighbour,' as he +called her. ''Tis her well-known kindness of heart that hath led her +astray. She hath <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>warmed a snake in her bosom, a wandering Quaker +Preacher, who hath beguiled and corrupted both herself and her +household.'</p> + +<p>'A wandering, Ranting Quaker entertained in my house, during my +absence!' Judge Fell had an even temper, but the rising flush on his +forehead betokened the effort with which he kept his anger under +control. 'I thank ye, gentles, for your news. My wife and I have ever +right gladly given food and lodging to all true servants of the Lord, +but I will not have any Quakers or Ranters creeping into my house +during my absence and nesting there, to set abroad such tales as ye +have hastened to spread before me this day. Even the wisest woman is +but a woman still, and the sooner I reach home the better.' So saying +he raised his hat, and set spurs to his horse. But little Mr. Justice +Sawrey, edging out of the group officiously, set spurs to his own +horse and trotted after him. Laying a restraining hand on his fellow +Justice's bridle, 'One moment more!' he entreated. ''Tis best you +should know all ere you return. Not only at Swarthmoor, at Ulverston +church also, hath this pestilential fellow caused a disturbance. It +was on the Saturday that he arrived at Swarthmoor Hall, and violently +brawled with our good Friend Lampitt during Mistress Fell's absence +from home.'</p> + +<p>A shade of relief crossed the Judge's face, 'My wife absent! I might +have sworn to it. The maidens are too young to have sober judgment.' +'Nay, but listen,' continued Sawrey, 'the day after he came to the +Hall was not only the Sabbath but also a day of public humiliation. +Our good Priest Lampitt, seeing Mistress Fell surrounded by her family +in the pew at church, trusted, as did we all, that she had sent the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span>fellow packing speedily about his business. Alack! no such thing, he +was but prowling outside. No sooner did the congregation sing a hymn +than in he came, and boldly standing on a form, asked leave to speak. +Our worthy Priest, the soul of courtesy, consented. Then, oh! the +tedious discourse that fell on our ears, how that the hymn we had sung +was entirely unsuited to our condition, with much talk of Moses and of +John, and I know not what besides, ending up in no less a place than +the Paradise of God! Naturally, none of us, gentles, paid much +attention. I crossed my legs and tried to sleep until the wearisome +business should be ended. When, to my dismay, I was aroused by our +honoured neighbour Mistress Fell standing upright on the seat of her +pew, shrieking with a loud voice: "We are all thieves, we are all +thieves!" This was after the Ranter had finished. While he was yet +speaking, she continued to gaze on him, so says my wife, as if she +were drinking in every word. But afterwards, having loosed this +exclamation about thieves (and she a Justice's wife, forsooth!) she +sat down in her pew once more and began to weep bitterly.'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' interrupted Lampitt, who had also come alongside by this time, +'and he continued to pour forth foul speeches, how that God was come +to teach His people by His own spirit, and to bring them off from all +their old ways and religions and churches and worships, for that they +were all out of the life and spirit, that they was in that gave them +forth.... And so on, until our good friend here,' indicating Sawrey, +'being a Justice of the Peace, called out to the churchwardens, "Take +him away, take the fellow away." Whereat Mistress Fell must needs rise +up again and say to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span>the officers, "Why may he not speak as well as +any other? Let him alone!" And I, willing to humour her——'</p> + +<p>'Yes, more fool you,' interrupted Sawrey rudely, 'you must needs echo +her, and cry, "Let him alone!" else had I safely and securely clapped +him into the stocks.'</p> + +<p>Judge Fell, who had listened with obviously growing impatience, now +broke away from his vociferous companions. Crying once more, 'I thank +you, Sirs, for your well-meant courtesy, but now I pray you to excuse +me and allow me to hasten to my home,' he broke away from the +restraining hands laid upon his bridle and galloped over the sands. +His attendants, who had been waiting at a little distance just out of +earshot, eagerly joined him, and the three figures gradually grew +smaller and then disappeared into the distance.</p> + +<p>The other group of riders departed on their different ways homewards, +well satisfied with their day's work. Not without a parting shot from +fat Captain Sands as they separated. Raising his whip he said +mockingly as he pointed at the Judge's figure riding away in urgent +haste: 'Let us hope he may not find the Fox too Foxy when he expels +him from his earth!'</p> + +<br /> +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<br /> + +<h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> 'Being beloved,' the historian says, 'for his justice, +wisdom, moderation, and mercy.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> 'The sands are left uncovered at low water to a great +extent; and travellers between Lancaster and Furness had formerly to +cross from Hest Bank to Ulverston by the route <i>brogged</i> out by the +guides; the brogs being branches of trees stuck in the sand to mark +where the treacherous way was safest; a dreary distance of about 14 +miles.'—Richardson, <i>Furness</i>, i. 14.</p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span><br /> +<a name="XI_THE_JUDGES_RETURN" id="XI_THE_JUDGES_RETURN"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>XI. THE JUDGE'S RETURN<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'The Cross being minded it makes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> +a separation from all other +lovers, and brings to +God.'<span class="fakesc">—G. FOX.</span></i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Give up to be crossed;</i> that <i>is +the way to please the Lord and to +follow Him in His own will and +way, whose way is the +best.'<span class="fakesc">—M. FELL</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Now here was a time of waiting, +here is a time of receiving, here +is a time of speaking; the Holy +Ghost fell upon them, that they +spoke the wonderful things of +God.'<span class="fakesc">—G. FOX.</span></i></p></div> + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Mind and consider well the +spirit of Christ in you, that's he +that's lowly in you, that's just +and lowly in you: mind this Spirit +in you, and then whither will you +run, and forsake the Lord of Life? +Will you leave Christ the fountain +which should spring in you and +hunt for yourselves? Should you +not abide within, and drink of +that which springs freely, and +feed on that which is pure, meek +and lowly in spirit, that so you +might grow spiritual men into the +same Spirit, to be as He is, the +sheep of His Pasture? For as is +your pasture, so are you +filled.... And you shall say no +more, I am weak and can do +nothing, but all things through +him who gives you +strength.'<span class="fakesc">—JAMES +NAYLER</span>.</i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>XI. THE JUDGE'S RETURN</h3> +<br /> + +<p>Not one of the six maidens ever remembered a home-coming over-clouded +as was Judge Fell's on that thundery afternoon of late July. Sadder, +darker days lay before them in the years to follow, but none more +filled with unacknowledged dread. Was this sad, stern-looking man, who +dismounted wearily from his horse at the high arched gate, really +their indulgent father? He scarcely noticed or spoke to them, as he +tramped heavily towards the house. 'He did not even raise an eye +towards the window where my mother sits, as she hath ever sat, to +welcome him,' young Margrett noticed. The thunder rumbled ominously +overhead. The first big drops fell from the gloomy clouds that had +been gathering for hours; while upstairs, in her panelled chamber, a +big tear splashed on the delicate cambric needlework that lay between +the elder Margaret's fingers, before she laid it aside and descended +the shallow, oaken stairs to greet her husband.</p> + +<p>Margaret Fell looked older and sadder than on the afternoon under the +yew-trees, only three weeks before. There was a new shade of care on +her smooth forehead: yet there was a soft radiance about her that was +also new. Even her voice had gentler tones. She looked as if she had +reached a haven, like a stately ship that, after long tossing in the +waves, now feels itself safely anchored and at rest.</p> + +<p>Happily she has left an account of the Judge's return in her own +words, words as fresh and vivid as if they had been written but +yesterday, instead of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span>more than two hundred and fifty years ago. We +will take up her narrative at the point in Ulverston church at which +Judge Fell broke away from Mr. Justice Sawrey when he was telling him +the same tale from his point of view, on the glistening sands of the +estuary of the Leven.</p> + +<p>'And there was one John Sawrey,' writes Mistress Fell, 'a Justice of +Peace and professor, that bid the church warden take him [George Fox] +away, and he laid hands on him several times, and took them off again, +and let him alone; and then after awhile he gave over and he [G.F.] +came to our house again that night. He spoke in the family amongst the +servants, and they were all generally convinced; as William Caton, +Thomas Salthouse, Mary Askew, Anne Clayton, and several other +servants. And I was struck into such a sadness, I knew not what to do, +my husband being from home. I saw it was the truth, and I could not +deny it; and I did as the Apostle saith, "I received truth in the love +of it;" and it was opened to me so clear, that I had never a tittle in +my heart against it; but I desired the Lord that I might be kept in +it, and then I desired no greater portion.'</p> + +<p>'He went on to Dalton, Aldingham, Dendron and Ramside chapels and +steeple-houses, and several places up and down, and the people +followed him mightily; and abundance were convinced and saw that that +which he spoke was the truth, but the priests were in a rage. And +about two weeks after James Nayler and Richard Farnsworth followed him +and enquired him out, till they came to Swarthmoor, and there stayed +awhile with me at our house, and did me much good; for I was under +great heaviness and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span>judgment. But the power of the Lord entered upon +me within about two weeks that he came, and about three weeks end my +husband came home; and many were in a mighty rage, and a deal of the +captains and great ones of the country went to meet my then husband as +he was coming home, and informed him "that a great disaster was +befallen amongst his family, and that they were witches; and that they +had taken us away out of our religion; and that he must either set +them away, or all the country would be undone."'</p> + +<p>'So my husband came home, greatly offended; and any may think what a +condition I was like to be in, that either I must displease my husband +or offend God; for he was very much troubled with us all in the house +and family, they had so prepossessed him against us. But James Nayler +and Richard Farnsworth were both then at our house, and I desired them +both to come and speak to him, and so they did very moderately and +wisely; but he was at first displeased with them until they told him +"they came in love and goodwill to his house." And after that he had +heard them speak awhile, he was better satisfied, and they offered as +if they would go away; but I desired them to stay and not go away yet, +for George Fox will come this evening. And I would have had my husband +to have heard them all, and satisfied himself further about them, +because they [<i>i.e.</i> the neighbours] had so prepossessed him against +them of such dangerous fearful things in his first coming home. And +then he was pretty moderate and quiet, and his dinner being ready he +went to it, and I went in, and sate me down by him. And whilst I was +sitting, the power of the Lord seized upon me, and he was struck <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span>with +amazement, and knew not what to think; but was quiet and still. And +the children were all quiet and still, and grown sober, and could not +play on their musick that they were learning; and all these things +made him quiet and still.'</p> + +<p>'At night George Fox came: and after supper my husband was sitting in +the parlour, and I asked him, "if George Fox might come in?" And he +said, "Yes." So George came in without any compliment, and walked into +the room, and began to speak presently; and the family, and James +Nayler, and Richard Farnsworth came all in; and he spoke very +excellently as ever I heard him, and opened Christ's and the apostles' +practices, which they were in, in their day. And he opened the night +of apostacy since the apostles' days, and laid open the priests and +their practices in the apostacy that if all England had been there, I +thought they could not have denied the truth of these things. And so +my husband came to see clearly the truth of what he spoke, and was +very quiet that night, said no more and went to bed. The next morning +came Lampitt, priest of Ulverston, and got my husband in the garden, +and spoke much to him there, but my husband had seen so much the night +before, that the priest got little entrance upon him.... After awhile +the priest went away; this was on the sixth day of the week, about the +fifth month (July) 1652. And at our house divers Friends were speaking +to one another, how there were several convinced hereaways and we +could not tell where to get a meeting: my husband being also present, +he overheard and said of his own accord, "You may meet here, if you +will:" and that was the first meeting that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>we had that he offered of +his own accord. And then notice was given that day and the next to +Friends, and there was a good large meeting the first day, which was +the first meeting that was at Swarthmoor, and so continued there a +meeting from 1652 till 1690 [when the present Meeting-house, given by +George Fox, was built]. And my husband went that day to the +steeple-house, and none with him but his clerk and his groom that rid +with him; and the priest and the people were all fearfully troubled; +but praised be the Lord, they never got their wills upon us to this +day.'</p> + +<p>George Fox in his Journal also records his first eventful interview +with Judge Fell as follows:</p> + +<div class="block2"><p>'I found that the priests and professors and Justice Sawrey had much +incensed Judge Fell against the truth with their lies; but when I came +to speak with him I answered all his objections, and so thoroughly +satisfied him by the scriptures that he was convinced in his judgment. +He asked me "if I was that George Fox whom Justice Robinson spoke so +much in commendation of among many of the parliament men?" I told him +I had been with Justice Robinson and Justice Hotham, in Yorkshire, who +were very civil and loving to me. After we had discoursed a pretty +while together, Judge Fell himself was satisfied also, and came to +see, by the openings of the spirit of God in his heart, over all the +priests and teachers of the world, and did not go to hear them for +some years before he died. He sometimes wished I was awhile with Judge +Bradshaw to discourse with him.'</p> +</div> + +<p>This was Judge Bradshaw the regicide, and, coming as it did from such +a friend of Cromwell's as Judge Fell, the remark was probably a high +compliment.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span>The following year, 1653, George Fox came again to Swarthmoor, where +he says he had 'great openings from the Lord, not only of divine and +spiritual matters, but also of outward things relating to the civil +government. Being one day in Swarthmoor Hall when Judge Fell and +Justice Benson were talking of the news in the newsbook, and of the +Parliament then sitting, (called the long Parliament) I was moved to +tell them, "before that day two weeks the Parliament should be broken +up, and the speaker plucked out of his chair"; and that day two weeks +Justice Benson told Judge Fell that now he saw that George was a true +prophet, for Oliver had broken up the parliament.' Although Judge Fell +never actually joined Friends he was their constant protector and +helper, and, in the words of Fox, 'A wall to the believers.' If he did +not himself attend the meetings in the great Hall at Swarthmoor, he +was wont to leave the door open as he sat in his Justice's chair in +his little oak-panelled study close at hand, and thus hear all that +was said, himself unseen. How entirely his wife had regained his +confidence, and how entirely Lampitt and Sawrey had failed to poison +his mind against her or her new teacher, is shown by the following +letter written about this time, when the Judge was away on one of his +frequent absences. It is the only letter to Judge Fell from his wife +that has been preserved, but it is ample assurance that no shadow had +dimmed the unclouded love of this devoted husband and wife.</p> + +<div class="block2"><p>'Dear Husband,' Margaret writes, 'My dear love and tender +desires to the Lord run forth for thee. I have received a letter +this day from you, and am very glad that the Lord carried you on +your journey so <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>prosperously.... Dear Heart, mind the Lord +above all, with whom is no variableness nor shadow of turning, +and who will overturn all powers that stand before Him.... We +sent to my dear brother James Nayler and he is kept very close +and cannot be suffered to have any fire. He is not free to eat +of the jailor's meat, so they eat very little but bread and +water. He writ to us that they are plotting again to get more +false witnesses to swear against him things that he never spoke. +I sent him 2 lb., but he took but 5 [shillings?]. They are +mighty violent in Westmorland and all parts everywhere towards +us. They bid 5 lb. to any man that will take George anywhere +that they can find him within Westmorland.... The children are +all in health, praised be the Lord. George is not with us now, +but he remembered his dear love to thee....</p> + +<p style="margin-left: 5%;">'Thy dutiful wife till death,</p> + +<p class="right">MARGARET FELL.'</p> + +<p>'Swarthmoor, Feb. 18, 1653.'</p> +</div> + +<p>But whether Margaret Fell ever entirely forgave Justice Sawrey for the +part he had played in trying to alienate her husband from her, is, to +say the least, doubtful. Anyhow, later on she wrote of him as 'a +catterpillar which shall be swept out of the way.' And 'swept out of +the way' he eventually was, some years later, when it is recorded that +'he was drowned in a puddle upon the road coming from York.' But he +was to have time and opportunity to do much harm to Friends, and +especially to George Fox, before that happened, as the next two +stories will show.</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span><br /> +<a name="XII_STRIKE_AGAIN" id="XII_STRIKE_AGAIN"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>XII. 'STRIKE AGAIN!'<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Ulverston consisted of thatched<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> +one storied houses, many old +shops, gabled buildings standing +out towards the street on pillars +beneath which neighbours sheltered +and gossipped. On market days +these projections were filled with +goods to tempt gentry and yeomanry +to open their +purse-strings.'—From 'Home Life +in North Lonsdale.'</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'By the year 1654 "the man with +the leather breeches" as he was +called, had become a celebrity +throughout England, with scattered +converts and adherents everywhere, +but voted a pest and a terror by +the public authorities, the +regular steeple-house clergy, +whether Presbyterian or +Independent, and the appointed +preachers of all the old +sects.'<span class="fakesc">—D. MASSON</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'For in those days the high and +proud professors and persecutors +were generally bitterly set +against the people called Quakers, +when Presbytery and Independency +swimmed and floated in possession, +and with their long Lectures +against us cried out, "These are +the Antichrists come in the last +times"'<span class="fakesc">—G. WHITEHEAD</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'For in all things he acquitted +himself like a man, yea, a strong +man, a new and heavenly-minded +man.'<span class="fakesc">—W. PENN</span> of +George Fox.</i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>XII. 'STRIKE AGAIN!'</h3> + +<div class="block"><p class="noin">'Love, Wisdom, and Patience will overcome all that is not of +God.'<span class="fakesc">—G. FOX</span>.</p></div> +<br /> + +<p>By the side of even a low mountain the tallest tower looks small. The +fells that shelter the old market town of Ulverston from northerly +winds are not lofty compared with the range of giants that lies behind +them in the distance, Coniston Old Man, Sca Fell, Skiddaw, Helvellyn, +and their brethren. But the fells are high enough to make the tall old +Church tower of Ulverston look small and toy-like as it rises under +their shadow above the thatched roofs of the old town.</p> + +<p>Swarthmoor Hall stands on a level plateau on the other side of +Ulverston; and it was from Swarthmoor Hall, through a wooded glen by +the side of the stream, that George Fox came down to Ulverston Church, +one 'Lecture Day' at the end of September 1652.</p> + +<p>On a 'Lecture Day' a sermon lasting for several hours was delivered by +an appointed teacher; and when that was finished, anyone who had +listened to it was free to rise and deliver a message in his turn if +he wished to do so. In those days, as there were no clocks or watches +in churches, the length of the sermon was measured by turning an +hour-glass, until all the sand had run out, a certain number of times. +Children, and perhaps grown-up people too, must often have watched the +sand with longing eyes when a sermon of several hours' length was in +process. On this particular day, Priest Lampitt was the appointed +preacher. Lampitt had never forgiven Fox <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>for having persuaded so many +of his hearers, and especially the important ladies of Swarthmoor, to +forsake their Parish Church, and assemble for their own service at +home. His feelings may be imagined, therefore, when, his own sermon +ended, he saw George Fox get up and begin to preach in his turn.</p> + +<p>George Fox says, 'On a Lecture Day I was moved to go to Ulverston +steeple-house, where there was an abundance of professors and +priests,<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> and people. And I went up near to Lampitt who was +blustering on in his preaching, and the Lord opened my mouth to +speak.'</p> + +<p>Now among the 'abundance of people' who were present in the Church was +that same Mr. Justice Sawrey, 'the Catterpillar,' of whom the last two +stories tell. As soon as George Fox opened his mouth and began to +preach, up bustled the Justice to him, with a patronising air, and +said, 'Now, my good fellow, you may have my permission to speak in +this Church, so long as you speak according to the Scriptures.'</p> + +<p>Like lightning, George Fox turned round on the high step where he was +standing near to Priest Lampitt, and saw at his elbow the little +pompous Justice, his face flushed, full of fussiness about his own +dignity and anxious to arrange everything according to his own ideas.</p> + +<p>George Fox, who felt he had a message from God to deliver, had no +intention of being interrupted by any man in this way.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>'I stranged at him,' says Fox, 'for speaking so to me!'</p> + +<p>'Stranged' is an unfamiliar word, no longer used in modern English. It +sounds as if it meant something very fierce, and calls up a picture of +George Fox glaring at his antagonist or trying to shout him down. In +reality it only means that Fox was astonished at his strange +behaviour.</p> + +<p>'I stranged at him and told him that I would speak according to the +Scriptures, and bring the Scriptures to prove what I had to say, for I +had something to say to Lampitt and to them.' 'You shall do nothing of +the kind,' said Mr. Justice Sawrey, contradicting his own words of the +moment before, that Fox might speak so long as he spoke according to +the Scriptures.</p> + +<p>Fox paid no attention to this injunction, but went on calmly with his +sermon. At first the congregation listened quietly. But Fox had made a +new enemy and a powerful one. The little Justice would not be ignored +in this way. He whispered to one and another in the congregation, +'Don't listen to this fellow. Why should he air his notions in our +fine Church? Beat him! Stop his mouth! Duck him in the pond! Teach him +that the men of Ulverston are sensible fellows, and not to be led +astray by a ranting Quaker!'</p> + +<p>These suggestions had their effect. Possibly the congregation agreed +with the speaker. Possibly also, they knew that the little Justice, +though short of stature, was of long memory and an ill man to offend. +Moreover, a magistrate's favour is a useful thing to have at all +times. Perhaps if they hunted Mr. Justice Sawrey's quarry for him in +the daytime, he would be <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>more likely to turn a blind eye the next +moonlight night that they were minded to go out snaring other game, +with fur and feathers, in the Justice's own park! Anyhow, faces began +to grow threatening as the Quaker's discourse proceeded. Presently +loud voices were raised. Still the calm tones flowed on unheeding. At +length, clenched fists were raised; and, at the sight, the smile on +the Justice's face visibly broadened. Nodding his head emphatically, +he seemed to be saying, 'On, men, on!' till at length, like sparks +fanned by a bellows, the congregation's ill-humour suddenly burst into +a flame of rage. When at length rough hands fell upon the Quaker's +shoulders and set all his alchemy buttons a-jingling, Mr. Justice +Sawrey leaned against the back of his high wooden pew, crossed his +legs complacently, and laughed long and loud at the joke. The crowd +took this as a sign that they might do as they chose. They fell upon +Fox, knocked him down, and finally trampled upon him, under the +Justice's own eyes. The uproar became so great that the quieter +members of the congregation were terrified, 'and the people fell over +their seats for fear.'</p> + +<p>At length the Justice bethought himself that such behaviour as this in +a church was quite illegal, since a man had been sentenced, before +now, to lose his hand as a punishment for even striking his neighbour +within consecrated walls. He began to feel uneasily that even the +excellent sport of Quaker-baiting might be carried too far inside the +Church. He came forward, therefore, and without difficulty rescued +George Fox from the hands of his tormentors. But he had not finished +with the Quaker yet. Leading him outside <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span>the Church, he there +formally handed him over to the constables, saying, 'Take the fellow. +Thrash him soundly and turn him out of the town,' adding, perhaps, +under his breath, 'and teach him to behave with greater respect +hereafter to a Justice of the Peace!'</p> + +<p>George Fox describes in his own words what happened next. 'They led +me,' says the Journal, 'about a quarter of a mile, some taking hold of +my collar, and some by the arms and shoulders, and shook and dragged +me, and some got hedge-stakes and holme bushes and other staffs. And +many friendly people that was come to the market, and had come into +the steeple-house to hear me, many of them they knocked down and broke +their heads also, and the blood ran down several people so as I never +saw the like in my life, as I looked at them when they were dragging +me along. And Judge Fell's son, running after me to see what they +would do to me, they threw him into a ditch of water and cried, "Knock +the teeth out of his head!"'</p> + +<p>Once well away from the town, apparently, the constables were content +to let their prisoner go, knowing that they might trust their +fellow-townsmen to finish the job with right good will. The mob yelled +with joy to find their prey in their hands at last. With one accord +they fell upon Fox, and endeavoured to pull him down, much as, at the +huntsman's signal, a pack of hounds sets upon his four-footed namesake +with a bushy tail. The constables and officers, too, continued to +assist. Giving him some final blows with willow-rods they thrust Fox +'amid the rude multitude, and they then fell upon me as aforesaid with +their stakes and clubs and beat me on the head and arms <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span>and +shoulders, until at last,' their victim says, 'they mazed me, and I +fell down upon the wet common.'</p> + +<p>The crowd had won! George Fox was down at last! He lay, bruised and +fainting, on the wet moss of the common on the far side of the town. +Yes, there he lay for a few moments, stunned, bruised, bleeding, +beaten nigh to death. Only for a few moments, no longer. Very soon his +consciousness returned. Finding himself helpless on the watery common +with the savage mob glowering over him, he says, 'I lay a little still +without attempting to rise. Then suddenly the power of the Lord sprang +through me, and the eternal refreshings revived me, so that I stood up +again in the eternal power of God, and stretched out my arms among +them all and said with a loud voice: "Strike again! Here are my arms, +my head, my cheeks!"'</p> + +<p>Whatever would he do next? What sort of a man was this? The rough +fellows in the circle around him insensibly drew back a little, and +looked in each other's faces with surprise, as they tried to read the +riddle of this disconcerting behaviour. The Quaker would not show +fight! He was actually giving them leave to set upon him and beat him +again! All in a minute, what had hitherto seemed like rare sport began +to be rather poor fun.</p> + +<p>'There's no sense in thrashing a man who doesn't strike back! Better +leave the fellow alone!' some of the more decent-minded whispered to +each other in undertones, and then slunk away ashamed. Only one man, a +mason, well known as the bully of the town, knew no shame.</p> + +<p>'Strike again, sayest thou, Quaker?' he thundered. 'Hast had none but +soft blows hitherto? Faith then, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span>I will strike in good earnest this +time.' So saying, the mason brought a thick wooden rule that he was +carrying down on the outstretched hand before him, with a savage blow +that might have felled an ox. After the first shock of agonising pain +George Fox lost all feeling from his finger-tips right up to his +shoulder. When he tried to draw the wounded hand back to his side he +could not do it. The paralysed nerves refused to carry the message of +the brain.</p> + +<p>'The mason hath made a good job of it this time,' jeered a mocking +voice from the crowd. 'The Quaker hath lost the use of his right hand +for ever.' For ever! Terrible words. George Fox was but a young man +still. Was he indeed to go through life maimed, without the use of his +right hand? The bravest man might have shrunk from such a prospect; +but George Fox did not shrink, because he did not happen to be +thinking of himself at all. His hand was not his own. Not it alone but +his whole body also had been given, long ago, to the service of his +Master. They belonged to Him. Therefore if that Master should need the +right hand of His servant to be used in His service, His Power could +be trusted to make it whole.</p> + +<p>Thus Fox trusted, and not in vain; since all the while, no thoughts of +vengeance or hatred to those who had injured him were able to find +even a moment's lodging in his heart.</p> + +<p>'So as the people cried out, "he hath spoiled his hand for ever having +any use of it more," <span class="fakesc">I LOOKED AT IT IN THE LOVE OF GOD AND I WAS +IN THE LOVE OF GOD TO ALL THEM THAT HAD PERSECUTED ME. AND AFTER A +WHILE THE LORD'S POWER SPRANG THROUGH MY HAND AND ARM AND THROUGH ME, +THAT IN A</span> <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span><span class="fakesc">MINUTE I RECOVERED MY HAND AND ARM AND STRENGTH IN THE FACE +AND SIGHT OF THEM ALL</span>.'</p> + +<p>This miracle, as it seemed to them, overawed the rough mob for a +moment. But some of the greedier spirits saw a chance of making a good +thing out of the afternoon's work for themselves. They came to Fox and +said if he would give them some money they would defend him from the +others, and he should go free. But Fox would not hear of such a thing. +He 'was moved of the Lord to declare unto them the word of life, and +how they were more like Jews and heathens and not like Christians.'</p> + +<p>Thus, instead of thankfully slinking away and disappearing up the hill +by a by-path to the friendly shelter of Swarthmoor, Fox strode boldly +back into the centre of the town of Ulverston with his persecutors, +like a crowd of whipped dogs, following him at his heels. Yet still +they snarled and showed their teeth at times, as if to say, they would +have him yet if they dared. Right into Ulverston market-place he came, +and a stranger sight the old grey town, with its thatched roofs and +timbered houses, had surely never seen. In the middle of the +market-place the one other courageous man in the town came up to him. +This was a soldier, carrying a sword.</p> + +<p>'Sir,' said this gallant gentleman, as he met the bruised and bleeding +Quaker, 'I am ashamed that you, a stranger, should have been thus +ill-treated and abused, <span class="fakesc">FOR YOU ARE A MAN, SIR</span>,' said he. +Fox nodded, and a smile like wintry sunshine stole over his worn face. +Silently he held out his hand. The soldier grasped it. 'In truth, I am +grieved,' he repeated, 'grieved and ashamed that you should have <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span>been +treated like this at Ulverston. Gladly will I assist you myself as far +as I can against these cowards, who are not ashamed to set upon an +unarmed man, forty to one, and drag him down.'</p> + +<p>'No matter for that, Friend,' said Fox, 'they have no power to harm +me, for the Lord's power is over all.' With these words he turned and +crossed the crowded market-place again, on his way to leave the town, +and not one of the people dared to touch him.</p> + +<p>But, as everyone prefers both to be defended himself and to defend +others with those weapons in which he himself puts most trust, the +soldier very naturally followed Fox, in case 'the Lord's power' might +also need the assistance of his trusty sword.</p> + +<p>The mob, seeing Fox well protected, turned, like the cowards they +were, and fell upon the other 'friendly people' who were standing +defenceless in the market-place and beat them instead. Their meanness +enraged the soldier. Leaving Fox, he turned and ran upon the mob in +his turn, his naked rapier shining in his hand.</p> + +<p>'My trusty sword shall teach these cravens a lesson at last,' he +thought. Quick as he was, Fox was quicker. He, too, had turned at the +noise, and seeing his defender running at the crowd, and the sunshine +dancing down the steel blade as it gleamed in the air, he also ran, +and dashed up the soldier's weapon before it had time to descend. Then +taking firm hold of the man's right hand, sword and all, 'Thou must +put up thy sword, Friend,' he commanded, 'if thou wilt come along with +me.' Half sulkily, and wholly disappointed, the soldier, in spite of +himself, obeyed. But he insisted on accompanying Fox to the outskirts +of the town. 'You will be safe now, Sir,' he said, and sweeping his +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span>plumed hat respectfully on the ground, as he bowed low to his new +friend, the two parted.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, not many days thereafter this very gallant gentleman +paid for his chivalrous conduct. No less than seven men fell upon him +at once, and beat him cruelly 'for daring to take the Quaker's part.' +'For it was the custom of this country to run twenty or forty people +upon one man,' adds the Journal, with quiet scorn. 'And they fell so +upon Friends in many places, that they could hardly pass the high +ways, stoning and beating and breaking their heads.'</p> + +<p>But of the punishment in store for his defender, Fox was happily +ignorant that hot afternoon of the riot, as he followed the peaceful +brook through its sheltered glen, and so came up again at last, after +his rough handling, to friendly Swarthmoor, where young George Fell, +escaped from his persecutors and the miry ditch, had arrived before +him. 'And there they were, dressing the heads and hands of Friends and +friendly people that were broken that day by the professors and +hearers of Priest Lampitt,' writes Fox.</p> + +<p>'And my body and arms were yellow, black and blue with the blows and +bruises I received among them that day.'</p> + +<br /> +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<br /> + +<h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> Remember always that by 'priest' George Fox only means a +man of any form of religion who was paid for preaching. Lampitt was +probably an Independent. 'Professors,' as we have already seen, are +the people usually called 'Puritans, who 'professed' or made a great +show of being very religious.'</p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="XIII_MAGNANIMITY" id="XIII_MAGNANIMITY"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>XIII. MAGNANIMITY<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Magnanimity ... includes all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> +that belongs to a great soul. A +high and mighty Courage, an +invincible Patience, an immovable +Grandeur; which is above the reach +of Injuries; a high and lofty +Spirit allayed with the sweetness +of Courtesy and Respect: a deep +and stable Resolution founded on +Humilitie without any Baseness ... +a generous confidence, and a great +inclination to Heroical deeds; all +these conspire to compleat it, +with a severe and mighty +expectation of Bliss +incomprehensible....</i></p> + +<p><i>'A magnanimous soul is always +awake. The whole globe of the Earth +is but a nutshell in comparison +with its enjoyments. The Sun is its +Lamp, the Sea its Fishpond, the +Stars its Jewels, Men, Angels, its +attendance, and God alone its +sovereign delight and supreme +complacency.... Nothing is great if +compared with a Magnanimous soul +but the Sovereign Lord of all the +Worlds.'<span class="fakesc">—REV. THOMAS +TRAHERNE</span> (A Contemporary of +G. Fox).</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'They threw stones upon me that +were so great, that I did admire +they did not kill us; but so +mighty was the power of the Lord, +that they were as a nut or a bean +to my thinking.'<span class="fakesc">—THOMAS +BRIGGS</span>, 1685.</i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>XIII. MAGNANIMITY</h3> +<br /> + +<p>Beloved Swarthmoor! Dear home, where kind hearts abode, where gentle +faces and tender hands were ever ready to welcome and bind up the +wounds, both visible and invisible, of any persecuted guest in those +troubled times. Surely, after his terrible experiences on the day of +the riot at Ulverston, George Fox would yield to the entreaties of his +entertainers, and allow himself to be persuaded to rest in peace under +the shadow of the Swarthmoor yew-trees, until the bloodthirsty fury +against all who bore the name of Quaker, and against himself in +particular, should have somewhat lessened in the neighbourhood? Far +from it. To 'Flee from Storms' was never this strong man's way.<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> +Gentle reeds and delicate grasses may bow as the storm-wind rushes +over them. The sturdy oak-tree, with its tough roots grappling firmly +underground, stubbornly faces the blast. George Fox, 'ever Stiff as a +Tree,' by the admission even of his enemies, barely waited for his +'yellow, black and blue' bruises to disappear before he came forth +again to encounter his foes. Certain priests had however taken +advantage of this short enforced absence to 'put about a prophecy' +that he had disappeared for good, and 'that within a year all these +Quakers would be utterly put down.' Great, therefore, must have been +their chagrin to hear, only a short fortnight after the Lecture Day at +Ulverston, that the hated 'Man in Leather Breeches' was off once more +on his dangerous career.</p> + +<p>Fox's companion on this journey was that same <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span>James Nayler who had +followed him on his first visit to Swarthmoor, a few weeks previously. +Nayler was one of the most brilliantly gifted of all those early +comrades of George Fox, who were hereafter to earn the name of 'the +Valiant Sixty.' Clouds and sorrows were to separate the two friends in +years to come, but at this time they were united in heart and soul, +both alike given up to the joyful service of 'Publishing Truth.' The +object of their journey was to visit another recent convert, James +Lancaster by name, in his home on the Island of Walney that lies off +the Furness coast.</p> + +<p>On the way thither the travellers spent one night at a small town on +the mainland called Cockan. Here, as usual, they held a meeting with +the inhabitants of the place, in order to proclaim the message that +possessed them. Their words had already convinced one of their +hearers, and more converts to the Truth might have followed, when +suddenly, at a low window of the hall where they were assembled, a +man's figure appeared, threatening the audience with a loaded pistol +which he carried in his hand. As this pistol was pointed, first at one +and then at another of George Fox's listeners, all the terrified +people sprang to their feet and rushed through the doors of the hall +as fast as their legs could carry them. Their alarm was natural; +probably most, if not all of them, had seen fire-arms used in grim +earnest before this, for the period of the Civil Wars was too recent +to have faded from anyone's memory.</p> + +<p>'I am not after you, ye timid sheep,' shouted the man with the pistol +as the scared people fled past him. 'It is that Deceiver who is +leading you all astray that I have to do with. Come out and meet me, +George <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span>Fox,' he shouted, 'if you call yourself a Man.'</p> + +<p>There was no need to ask twice. 'Here I am, Friend,' answered a quiet +voice, as the well-known figure, in its wide white hat, long coat, +leather breeches and doublet, and girdle with alchemy buttons, +appeared standing in the doorway. Then, passing calmly through it, +George Fox drew up scarce three paces from his assailant—his body +making a large target at close range that it would be impossible to +miss. The frightened people paused in their flight to watch. Were they +going to see the Quaker slain? The stranger raised his pistol; he +aimed carefully. Not a muscle of Fox's countenance quivered. Not an +eyelash moved. The trigger snapped....</p> + +<p>Nothing happened! The pistol did not go off. As if by a miracle the +Quaker was saved.</p> + +<p>Seeing this wonderful escape of their leader, some of the other men's +courage returned. They rushed back to assist him. They threw +themselves upon his assailant and wrenched the pistol from his hand, +vowing he should do no further mischief. Fox, seeing in his adversary, +not an enemy who had just sought his life, but a fellow-man with a +'Seed of God' hidden somewhere within him and therefore a possible +soul to be won, was 'moved in the Lord's power to speak to him; and he +was struck with the Lord's power' (small wonder!) 'so that he went and +hid himself in a cellar and trembled for fear.</p> + +<p>'And so the Lord's power came over them all, though there was a great +rage in the country.'</p> + +<p>The Journal continues (but it was written many years later, remember, +when the account of what had happened could not bring anyone into +trouble): 'And <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span>ye next morning I went over in a boat to James +Lancaster's, and as soon as I came to land there rushed out about +forty men, with staffs, clubs, and fishing-poles, and fell upon me +with them, beating, punching, and thrust me backwards into the sea. +And when they had thrust me almost into the sea, I stood up and went +into the middle of them again, but they all laid on me again and +knocked me down and mazed me. And when I was down and came to myself, +I looked up and saw James Lancaster's wife throwing stones at my face, +and her husband lying over me, to keep the stones and blows off me. +For the people had persuaded James's wife that I had bewitched her +husband, and had promised her that if she would let them know when I +came hither they would be my death.</p> + +<p>'So at last I got up in the power of God over them all, and they beat +me down into the boat. And so James Lancaster came into the boat to me +and so he set me over the water.</p> + +<p>'And James Nayler we saw afterwards that they were beating of him. For +while they were beating of me, he walked up into a field, and they +never minded him till I was gone, and then they fell upon him, and all +their cry was "Kill him!" "Kill him!" When I was come over to the town +again, on the other side of the water, the townsmen rose up with +pitchforks, flails, and staves to keep me out of the town, crying, +"Kill him! knock him on the head! bring the cart and carry him to the +churchyard." And so they abused me and guarded me with all those +weapons a pretty way out of the town, and there at last, the Lord's +power being over them all, they left me. Then James Lancaster went +back again to look for James Nayler. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span>So I was alone and came to a +ditch of water and washed me, for they had all dirted me, and wet and +mired my clothes, my hands and my face.</p> + +<p>'I walked a matter of three miles to Thomas Hutton's, where Thomas +Lawson the priest lodged, who was convinced. And I could hardly speak +to them when I came in I was so bruised. And so I told them where I +had left James Nayler, and they went and took each of them a horse, +and brought him thither that night. And I went to bed, but I was so +weak with bruises that I was not able to turn me. And the next day, +they hearing of it at Swarthmoor, they sent a horse for me. And as I +was riding the horse knocked his foot against a stone and stumbled, so +that it shook me so and pained me, as it seemed worse to me than all +the blows, my body was so tortured. So I came to Swarthmoor, and my +body was exceedingly bruised.'</p> + +<p>Even within the sheltering walls of Swarthmoor, this time persecution +followed. Justice Sawrey had not yet forgiven the Quaker for his +behaviour on the day of the riot. He must have further punishment. So +right up to Swarthmoor itself came constables with a warrant signed by +two Justices (Sawrey of course being one of them), that a certain man +named George Fox was to be apprehended as a disturber of the peace. +And clapped into gaol George Fox would have been, wounded and bruised +as he was, in spite of all that his gentle hostesses could do to +prevent it, had it not happened that, just as the constables arrived +to execute this order, the master of the house, good Judge Fell +himself, must needs return once more, in the very nick of time, home +to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span>Swarthmoor. His mere presence was a defence.</p> + +<p>He had been away again on circuit all this time that George Fox had +been so cruelly treated in the neighbourhood, and had therefore known +nothing of the rioting during his absence. Now that he was back at +home again, straightway everything went well. The roof seemed to grow +all at once more sheltering, the walls of the old hall to become +thicker and more able to protect its inmates, when once the master of +the house was safely at home once more.</p> + +<p>The six girls ran up and down stairs more lightly, smiling with relief +whenever they met each other in the rooms and passages. Long +afterwards, in the troubled years that were to follow, when there was +no indulgent father to protect them and their mother and their friends +from the bitter blast of persecution, many a time did the maidens of +Swarthmoor recall that day. They remembered how, weeping, they had run +down to the high arched gate of the orchard to meet their father, and +to tell him what was a-doing up at the Hall. Thus they drew near the +house, the Judge's dark figure half hidden among his muslined maidens, +even as the dark old yews are hidden in spring by the snowy-blossomed +apple-trees. When they saw the Judge himself coming towards them, the +constables drawn up in the courtyard began to look mighty foolish. +They approached with gestures of respect, giving a short account of +what had happened at Walney, and holding out the warrant, signed by +two justices, as an apology for their presence at Judge Fell's own +Hall during his absence.</p> + +<p>All their excuses availed them little. Judge Fell could look stern +enough when he chose, and now his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>eyes flashed at this invasion of +his home.</p> + +<p>'What brings you here, men? A warrant for the apprehension of George +Fox, <i><span class="fakesc">MY GUEST</span></i>? Are my brother Justices not aware then +that I am a Justice too, and Vice-Chancellor of the county to boot? +Under this roof a man is safe, were he fifty times a Quaker. But, +since ye are here' (this with a nod and a wink, as the constables +followed the Judge up the flagged path and by a side door into his +oak-panelled study), 'since ye are here, men, I will give you other +warrants a-plenty to execute instead. Those riotous folk at Walney +Island are well known to me of old. It is high time they were +punished. Take this, and see that the ringleaders who assaulted my +guest are themselves clapped into Lancaster Gaol forthwith.'</p> + +<p>Well pleased to get off with nothing but a reprimand, the constables +departed, and carried out their new mission with right good will. The +rioters were apprehended, and some of them were forced to flee from +the country. In time James Lancaster's wife came to understand better +the nature of the 'witchcraft' that George Fox had used upon her +husband. She too was 'convinced of Truth.' Later on, after she had +herself become a Friend, she must often have looked back with remorse +to the sad day when her husband had been forced to defend his loved +and revered teacher with his own body from her blows and stones.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile at Swarthmoor there had been great rejoicing over the +discomfiture of the constables. No sooner had they departed down the +flagged path than back flitted the bevy of girls again into the study, +until the small room was full to overflowing. It was like seeing a +company of fat bumble-bees, their portly <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span>bodies resplendent in black +and gold, buzz heavily out of a room, and a gay flight of pale-blue +and lemon butterflies flit back in their places. All the daughters +fell upon their father, Margaret, Bridget, Isabel, Sarah, Mary, and +Susanna; there they all were! tugging off his heavy riding-boots and +gaiters, putting away the whip on the whip-rack, while little Mary +perched herself proudly on his knee and put up her face for a kiss; +and, all the time, such a talk went on as never was about Friend +George Fox and the sufferings he had undergone, each girl telling the +story over and over again.</p> + +<p>'Now, now, maids!' said the kind father at last, 'I have heard enough +of your chatter. It is time for you to depart and send Mr. Fox hither +to me himself. 'Tis a stirring tale, even told by maidens' lips; I +would fain hear it at greater length from the man himself. He shall +tell me, in his own words, all that he hath suffered, and the vile +usage he hath met with at the hands of his enemies.'</p> + +<p>A few minutes later, a steady step was heard crossing the hall and +ascending the two shallow stairs that led to the Justice's private +sanctum. As George Fox entered the room Judge Fell rose from his seat +at the writing-table to receive his guest, and clasped his hand with a +hearty greeting.</p> + +<p>The study at Swarthmoor is only a small room; but when those two +strong men were both in it together, facing each other with level +brows and glances of unclouded trust, the small room seemed suddenly +to grow larger and more spacious. It was swept through by the wide +free airs of heaven, where full-grown spirits can meet and recognise +one another unhindered. They <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span>disagreed often, these two determined, +powerful men. They owned different loyalties and held different +opinions; but from the day they first met to the day they parted they +respected and trusted one another wholly, and for this each man in his +heart gave thanks to God.</p> + +<p>George Fox began by asking his host how his affairs had prospered; but +when, these enquiries answered, the Judge in his turn questioned his +guest of the rough usage he had met with both at Ulverston and in the +Island of Walney, to his surprise no details were forthcoming. Had the +Judge not had full particulars from his daughters as well as from the +constables, he would have thought that nothing of much moment had +occurred. George Fox apparently took no interest in the subject; the +most he would say, in answer to his host's repeated enquiries, was +that 'the people could do no other, in the spirit in which they were. +They did but show the fruits of their priest's ministry and their +profession and religion to be wrong.'</p> + +<p>'I' faith, Margaret, thy friend is a right generous man,' the good +Judge remarked to his wife, that same night, a few hours later, when +they were at length alone together in their chamber. The festoons of +interlaced roses and lilies, carved in high relief on the high black +oak fireplace, shone out clearly in the glow of two tall candles above +their heads.</p> + +<p>'In truth, dear Heart,' he continued, taking his wife's hand in his, +and drawing her fondly to him, 'in truth, though I said not so to him, +the Quaker doth manifest the fruits of his religion to be right, by +his behaviour to his foes. All stiff and bruised though he was, he +made nothing of his injuries. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span>When I would have enquired after his +hurts, he would only say the Power of the Lord had surely healed him. +<span class="fakesc">FOR THE REST, HE MADE NOTHING OF IT, AND SPOKE AS A MAN WHO HAD +NOT BEEN CONCERNED</span>.'</p> + +<br /> +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<br /> + +<h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> 'Flee from Storms' is a motto in the note-book of +Leonardo da Vinci.</p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="XIV_HAUGHTY_LADY" id="XIV_HAUGHTY_LADY"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>XIV. MILES HALHEAD AND THE HAUGHTY LADY<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Many a notable occurrence Miles<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> +Halhead had in his life.... But +his going thus often from home was +a great cross to his wife, who in +the first year of his change, not +being of his persuasion, was often +much troubled in her mind, and +would often say from discontent, +"Would to God I had married a +drunkard, then I might have found +him at the alehouse; but now I +cannot tell where to find my +husband."'<span class="fakesc">—SEWEL</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>To Friends—To take care of such +as suffer for owning the Truth.</i></p> + +<p class="noin"><i>'And that if any friends be +oppressed any manner of way, others +may take care to help them: and +that all may be as one family, +building up one another and helping +one another.'</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'And, friends, go not into the +aggravating part to strive with +it, lest you do hurt to your +souls, and run into the same +nature; for <span class="fakesc">PATIENCE MUST GET +THE VICTORY</span>, and it answers +to that of God in everyone and +will bring everyone from the +contrary. So let your temperance +and moderation and patience be +known to all.'<span class="fakesc">—GEORGE +FOX</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin" style="margin-bottom: .25em;"><i>'Non tristabit justum quidquid si +accederit.'</i><br /> + +<i>'Whatever happens to the righteous +man it shall not heavy +him.'<span class="fakesc">—RICHARD ROLLE</span>. +1349.</i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>XIV. MILES HALHEAD AND THE HAUGHTY LADY</h3> +<br /> + +<p>A Plain, simple man was Miles Halhead, the husbandman of Mountjoy. Ten +years older than Fox was he, and wise withal, so that men wondered to +see him forsake his home and leave wife and child at the call of the +Quaker's preaching, and go forth instead to become a preacher of the +Gospel.</p> + +<p>Yet, truth to tell, the change was natural and easily explained. All +his life Miles had had to do with seeds buried in the ground. +Therefore when he heard George Fox preach at his home near Underbarrow +in Westmorland, telling all men to consider 'that as the fallow ground +in their fields must be ploughed up before it would bear seed to them, +so must the fallow ground of their hearts be ploughed up before they +could bear seed to God,' Miles' own past experience as a husbandman +bore witness to the truth of this doctrine. His whole nature sprang +forward to receive it; and thus, in a short while, he was mightily +convinced.</p> + +<p>Now at that time there were, as we know, many companies of Seekers +scattered up and down the pleasant Westmorland dales. Miles himself +had been one of such a group, but now, having found that which he had +aforetime been a-seeking, nought was of any value to him, but that his +old companions should likewise cease to be Seekers, and become also in +their turn Finders. Yet Miles wondered often how such an one as he +should be able to convince them. For he was neither skilful nor ready +of tongue, nor of a commanding presence like Friend George Fox, but +only <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span>a simple husbandman. Still he was wary in his discourse, from +his long watching of the faces of Earth and Sky—full also he was of a +most convincing silence; and, though as yet he had proved it not, +staunch to suffer for his faith. It was said of him that 'his +Testimony was plaine and powerful, he being a plain simple man.'</p> + +<p>Thus Miles Halhead began to preach the Gospel, at first only in the +hamlets and valleys round his home at Underbarrow near to Kendal. But +one day when the daffodils were all abloom, and blowing their golden +trumpets silently beside the sheltered streams, it came to him that he +must take a further journey, and must follow the golden paths of the +daffodils over hill and vale, until at the end of this street of gold +he should come to Swarthmoor Hall; that there he might assist his +friends at their Meeting, and with them be strengthened and have his +soul refreshed.</p> + +<p>A walk of seventeen miles or so lay before him, and an easy journey it +should prove in this gay springtime, though in winter, when the snow +lay drifted on the uplands, it would have been another matter. He +could have travelled by the sheltered road that runs through the +valley. It being springtime, however, and a sunny day when Miles set +out from his home, he chose for pure pleasure to go by the fells. +First, he travelled across the Westmorland country till he came to the +lower end of Lake Winandermere, where the hills lie gently round like +giants' children, being not yet full grown into giants themselves with +brows that touch the sky, as they are at the upper end of that same +shining lake. Then, leaving Winandermere, across the Furness fells he +came, keeping ever on <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span>his right hand the Old Man of Coniston, who, +with his head for the most part wrapped in clouds, standeth yet, as he +hath stood for ages, the Guardian of all that region.</p> + +<p>Thus at length, as Miles journeyed, he came within sight of the +promontory of Furness, that lies encircled by the sea, even as a +babe's head lies in the crook of a woman's elbow. Seeing this, Miles' +heart rejoiced, for he knew that his journey's end was in sight, and +he tramped along blithely and without fear.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, on the path at some distance ahead of him, he saw a patch of +brilliant green and purple coming towards him—a gay figure more +likely to be met with in the streets of London than on those lonely +fells. Miles thought to himself as it drew nearer, ''Tis a woman!' +then, 'Nay, it is surely a great Thistle coming towards me; no woman +would wear garments such as those in this lonely place.' As he shaded +his eyes the better to see what might be approaching, his mind ran +back to the first sermon he had ever heard George Fox preach, on his +first visit to Underbarrow, when he said, 'That all people in the Fall +were gone from the image of God, righteousness and holiness, and were +degenerated into the nature of beasts, of serpents, of tall cedars, of +oaks, of bulls and of heifers.' ... 'Some were in the nature of dogs +and swine, biting and rending; some in the nature of briars, thistles +and thorns; some like the owls and dragons in the night; some like the +wild asses and horses snuffing up the wind; and some like the +mountains and rocks, and crooked and rough ways.' 'I was not certain +of his meaning when I first heard him utter these words,' simple Miles +thought to himself, 'but now that I see <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span>this fine Thistle coming +towards me, I begin to understand him. Haply it is but a Thistle in +outer seeming, and carries within the nature of a Lily or a Rose.'</p> + +<p>Even as he thought of this, the Thistle came yet nearer, and when he +could see it more plainly he feared that neither Lily nor Rose was +there, but a Thistle full of prickles in very truth. It was indeed a +woman, but clad in more gorgeous raiment than Miles had ever seen. +Green satin was her robe, slashed with pale yellow silk, marvellous to +behold. But it was the hat that drew Miles' gaze, for though newly +come to be a Quaker preacher, he had been a husbandman long enough to +be swift to notice the garb of all growing, living things, whether +they were flowers or dames. Truly the hat was marvellous, of a bright +purple satin, and crowned with such a tuft of tall feathers that the +wearer's face could scarcely be seen beneath its shade. Dressed all in +gaudy style was this fine Madam; and, as she passed Miles, she tilted +up her head and drew her skirts disdainfully together, lest they +should be soiled by his approach. Although the lady appeared to see +him not, but to be gazing at the sky, she was in truth well aware of +his presence, and awaited even hungrily a lowly obeisance from him, +that should assure her in her own sight of her own importance. For of +no high-born lineage was this flaunting dame, no earl's or duke's +daughter, else perhaps she had been too well aware of her own dignity +and worth to insist upon others acknowledging it. She was but the +young wife of the old Justice, Thomas Preston, and a plain Mistress, +like Miles' own simple wife at home, in spite of her gay garments and +flaunting airs. But the fact that she had newly come to live at Holker +Hall, the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span>finest mansion in all that country-side, had uplifted her +in her own sight, and puffed her out with pride, sending her forth at +all hours into unseasonable places to show off her fine new London +clothes.</p> + +<p>Therefore she paused a little as she passed Miles, waiting for him to +doff his hat and bend his knee, and declare himself in all lowliness +her servant. But Miles had never a thought of doing this. Though he +was but newly turned Quaker, right well he remembered hearing George +Fox say—</p> + +<p>'Moreover, when the Lord sent me forth into the world, He forbade me +to put off my hat to any—high or low—and I was required to "thee" +and "thou" all men and women, without any respect to rich or poor, +great or small. And as I travelled up and down, I was not to bid +people "Good-morrow," or "Good-evening," neither might I bow or scrape +with the leg to anyone, and this made the sects and the professors to +rage.'</p> + +<p>Miles, too, having learnt this lesson and made it his own, passed by +the lady in all soberness and quietness, taking no more notice of her +than if she had been one of those dames painted on canvas by the late +King's painter, Sir Anthony Van Dyck, which, truth to tell, she +mightily resembled. The haughty fair one seeing this, as soon as he +had fully passed and she could no longer delude herself with the hope +that the longed-for salute was coming, was vastly and mightily +incensed. It was not her hat alone that was thistle colour then: her +face, her forehead, her neck all blazed and burned in one purple flush +of rage. Only her cheeks stayed a changeless crimson, and that for a +very excellent reason, easy to guess. Violently she <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span>turned herself to +a serving-man who was following in her train, following so humbly, and +being so much hidden by Madam's fallals and furbelows, that until that +moment Miles had not even seen that he was there.</p> + +<p>'Back, sirrah!' she said in a loud, angry voice, speaking to the man +as if he had been a dog or a horse, 'back with thy staff and beat that +unmannerly knave till thou hast taught him 'twere well he should learn +to salute his betters.'</p> + +<p>The servant was tired of following his lady like a lap-dog, and +attending to all her whims and whimsies. Scenting sport more nearly to +his liking, he obeyed, nothing loath. He fell upon Miles and beat him +lustily and stoutly, expecting every moment that he would resist or +beg for mercy.</p> + +<p>Mistress Preston meanwhile, having turned full round, watched the +thwacking blows, and counted each one as it fell, with a smile of +pleasure. But her smile speedily became an angry frown, for Miles, +well knowing to whom his chastisement was due, paid no heed to the +serving-man, let him lay on never so soundly, but turned himself round +under the blows, and cried out in a loud voice to her: 'Oh, thou +Jezebel, thou proud Jezebel, canst thou not permit and suffer the +servant of the Lord to pass by thee quietly?'</p> + +<p>Now at that word 'Jezebel,' Mistress Preston's anger was yet more +mightily inflamed against Miles, for she knew that he had discovered +the reason why her cheeks had remained pink, and flushed not thistle +purple like the rest of her countenance. Even the serving-man smiled +to himself, a mocking smile, and hummed in a low voice, as he +continued to lay the blows thickly on Miles, a ditty having this +refrain—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0a">'Jezebel, the proud Queen,<br /></span><span class='pn'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> +<span class="i2">Painted her face,'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>He did not suppose that his mistress would recognise the tune; but +recognise it she did, and it increased her anger yet more, if that +were possible. She flung out both hands in a fury, as if she would +herself have struck at Miles, then, thinking him not fit for her +touch, she changed her mind, and spat full in his face. Oh, what a +savage Thistle was that woman, and worse far than any Thistle in her +behaviour! Loudly, too, she exclaimed, 'I scorn to fall down at thy +words!' Her meaning in saying this is not fully clear, but it may be, +as Miles had called her Jezebel, she meant that no one should ever +cast her down from her high estate, as Jezebel was cast down from the +window in the Palace, whence she mocked at Jehu. This made Miles +testify yet once more—'Thou proud Jezebel,' said he, 'thou that +hardenest thine heart and brazenest thy face against the Lord and His +servant, the Lord will plead with thee in His own time and set in +order before thee the things thou hast this day done to His servant.'</p> + +<p>By this time the lady's lackey had at length stopped his beating, not +out of mercy to Miles, but simply because his arm was weary. Yet he +still kept humming under his breath another verse of the same ditty, +ending—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0a">'Jezebel, the proud Queen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Tired her hair!'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Miles, therefore, being loosed from his hands, parted from both +mistress and man, and left them standing without more words and +himself passed on, bruised and buffeted, to continue his journey in +sore <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span>discomfort of body until he came to Swarthmoor.</p> + +<p>Arrived at that gracious home, his friends comforted him and bound up +his aching limbs, as indeed they were well accustomed to do in those +days, when the guests who arrived at Swarthmoor had too often been +sorely mishandled. Even to this day, in all the lanes around, may be +seen the walls composed of sharp, grey, jagged stones, over which is +creeping a covering of soft golden moss. So in those old days of which +I write, men, aye and women too, often came to Swarthmoor torn and +bleeding, perhaps sometimes with anger in their hearts (though Miles +Halhead was not of these), and all alike found their inward and +outward wounds staunched and assuaged by the never-failing sympathy of +kindly hearts, and hands more soft than the softest golden moss.</p> + +<p>Thus Miles Halhead was comforted of his friends at Swarthmoor, and +inwardly refreshed. Yet the matter of his encounter with the haughty +lady, and of her prickly thistle nature, rested on his mind, and he +could not be content without giving her yet one more chance to doff +her prickles and become a sweet and fragrant flower in the garden of +the Lord. Therefore, three months later, being continually urged +thereunto by 'the true Teacher which is within,' he determined to take +yet another journey and come himself to Holker Hall, and ask to speak +with its mistress and endeavour to bring her to a better mind. Thither +then in due course he came. Now a mansion surpassing grand is Holker +Hall, the goodliest in all that country-side. And a plain man and a +simple, as has been said, was Miles Halhead the husbandman of +Mountjoy, even among the Quakers—who were none of them gay <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span>gallants. +Nevertheless, being full of a great courage though small in stature, +all weary and travel-stained as he was, to Holker Hall Miles Halhead +came. He would not go to any back door or side door, seeing that his +errand was to the mistress of the stately building. He walked +therefore right up the broad avenue till he came to the front +entrance, with its grand portico, where a king had been welcomed +before now.</p> + +<p>As luck would have it, the door stood open as the Quaker approached, +and the mistress of Holker Hall herself happened to be passing through +the hall behind. She paused a moment to look through the open door, +intending most likely to mock at the odd figure she saw approaching. +But on that instant she recognised Miles as the man who had called her +Jezebel. Now Miles at first sight did not recognise her, and was +doubtful if this could be the haughty Thistle lady he sought, or if it +were not a Lily in very truth. For Mistress Preston was clad this hot +day in a lily-like frock of white clear muslin, all open at the neck +and short enough to show her ankles and little feet, and tied with a +blue ribbon round the waist, a garb most innocent to look upon, and +more suited to a girl in her teens than to the Justice's wife, the +buxom mistress of Holker Hall.</p> + +<p>Therefore Miles, not recognising her, did ask her if she were in truth +the woman of the house. To which she, seeing his uncertainty, answered +lyingly: 'No, that I am not, but if you would speak with Mistress +Preston, I will entreat her to come to you.'</p> + +<p>Even as the words left her lips, Miles was sensible that she was +speaking falsely, seeing how, even under the paint, her cheeks took on +a deeper hue. And <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span>she, ever mindful that it was that same man who had +called her Jezebel, went into the house and returning presently with +another woman, declared that here was Mistress Preston, and demanded +what was his will with her. No sooner had she spoken a second time +than it was manifested to Miles with perfect clearness that she +herself and none other was the woman he sought. Wherefore, in spite of +her different dress and girlish mien, he said to her, 'Woman, how +darest thou lie before the Lord and His servant?'</p> + +<p>And she, being silent, not speaking a word, he proceeded, 'Woman, hear +thou what the Lord's servant hath to say unto thee,—O woman, harden +not thy heart against the Lord, for if thou dost, He will cut thee off +in His sore displeasure; therefore take warning in time, and fear the +Lord God of Heaven and Earth, that thou mayest end thy days in peace.' +Having thus spoken he went his way; she, how proud soever, not seeking +to stay him nor doing him any harm, but standing there silent and dumb +under the tall pillars of the door, being withheld and stilled by +something, she knew not what.</p> + +<p>Yet her thistle nature was not changed, though, for that time, her +prickles were blunted. It chanced that several years later, when +George Fox was a prisoner at Lancaster, this same gay madam came to +him and 'belched out many railing words,' saying among the rest that +'his tongue should be cut off, and he be hanged.' Instead of which, it +was she herself that was cut off and died not long after in a +miserable condition.</p> + +<p>Thus did Mistress Preston of Holker Hall refuse to bow her haughty +spirit, yet the matter betwixt her and Miles ended not altogether +there. For it <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span>happened that another April day, some three springs +after Miles Halhead had encountered her the first time, as he was +again riding from Swarthmoor towards his home near Underbarrow, and +again being come near to Holker Hall, he met a man unknown to him by +sight. This person, as Miles was crossing a meadow full of daffodils +that grew beside a stream, would not let him pass, as he intended, but +stopped and accosted him. 'Friend,' said he to Miles, 'I have +something to say to you which hath lain upon me this long time. I am +the man that about three years ago, at the command of my mistress, did +beat you very sore; for which I have been very troubled, more than for +anything which ever I did in all my life: for truly night and day it +hath been in my heart that I did not well in beating an innocent man +that never did me any hurt or harm. I pray you forgive me and desire +the Lord to forgive me, that I may be at peace and rest in my mind.'</p> + +<p>To whom Miles answered, 'Truly, friend, from that time to this day I +have never had anything in my heart towards either thee or thy +mistress but love. May God forgive you both. As for me, I desire that +it may not be laid to your charge, for you knew not what you did.' +Here Miles stopped and gave the man his hand and forthwith went on his +way; and the serving-man went on his way; both of them with a glow of +brotherhood and fellowship within their hearts. While the daffodils +beside the stream looked up with sunlit faces to the sun, as they blew +on their golden trumpets a blast of silent music, for joy that ancient +injury was ended, and that in its stead goodwill had come.</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span><br /> +<a name="XV_SCATTERING_THE_SEED" id="XV_SCATTERING_THE_SEED"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>XV. SCATTERING THE SEED<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'As early as 1654 sixty-three<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> +ministers, with their headquarters +at Swarthmoor, and undoubtedly +under central control, were +travelling the country upon +"Truth's ponies"'<span class="fakesc">—JOHN +WILHELM ROWNTREE</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'It is interesting to note and +profitable to remember, how large +a part these sturdy shepherds and +husbandmen, from under the shade +of the great mountains, had in +preaching the doctrines of the +Inward Light and of God's +revelation of Himself to every +seeking soul, in the softer and +more settled countries of the +South.'<span class="fakesc">—THOMAS +HODGKIN</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Some speak to the conscience; +some plough and break the clods; +some weed out, and some sow; some +wait that fowls devour not the +seed. But wait all for the +gathering of the simple-hearted +ones.' ... 1651.</i></p> + +<p class="noin"><i>'Friends, spread yourselves +abroad, that you may be serviceable +for the Lord and His Truth.' 1654.</i></p> + +<p class="noin"><i>'Love the Truth more than all, and +go on in the mighty power of God, +as good soldiers of Christ, +well-fixed in His glorious gospel, +and in His word and power; that you +may know Him, the life and +salvation and bring up others into +it.'<span class="fakesc">—G. FOX</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Go! Set the whole world on fire +and in flames!'<span class="fakesc">—IGNATIUS +LOYOLA</span>. (To one whom he sent +on a distant mission.)</i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>XV. SCATTERING THE SEED</h3> +<br /> + +<p>In Springtime the South of England is a Primrose Country. Gay carpets +of primroses are spread in the woods; shy primroses peep out like +stars in sheltered hedgerows; vain primroses are stooping down to look +at their own faces in pools and streams, there are primroses, +primroses everywhere. But in the North of England their 'paly gold' +used to be a much rarer treasure. True, there were always a few +primroses to be found in fortunate spots, if you knew exactly where to +look for them; but they were not scattered broadcast over the country +as they are further South.</p> + +<p>Therefore, North Country children never took primroses as a matter of +course, they did not tear them up roughly, just for the fun of +gathering them, drop them heedlessly the next minute and leave them on +the road to die. North Country children used their precious holiday +time to seek out their favourite flowers in their rare hiding-places.</p> + +<p>'I've found one!' 'So have I!' 'There they are; two, three, +four,—lots!' 'I see them!' The air would be full of delighted +exclamations as the children scampered off, short legs racing, rosy +cheeks flushing, bright eyes glowing with eagerness, to see who could +take home the largest bunch.</p> + +<p>The further north a traveller went, the rarer did primroses become, +till in Northumberland, the most northerly county of all, primroses +used to be very scarce indeed. Until, only a few years ago, a +wonderful thing happened. There were days and weeks and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span>months of +warm sunny weather all through the spring and summer in that +particular year. Old people smiled and nodded to one another as they +said: 'None of us ever remembers a spring like this before!'</p> + +<p>The tender leaves and buds and flowers undid their wrappings in a +hurry to be first to catch sight of the sun, whose warm fingers had +awakened them, long before their usual time, from their winter sleep. +All over England the spring flowers had a splendid time of it that +year.</p> + +<p>Even the few scattered primroses living in what Southerners call 'the +cold grey North' were obviously enjoying themselves. Their smooth, +pale-yellow faces opened wider, and grew larger and more golden, day +by day: while new, soft, pointed buds came poking up through their +downy green blankets in unexpected places. Moreover, the warm weather +lasted right through the summer. Not only did far more primroses +flower than usual, but also, after they had faded, there was plenty of +warmth to ripen the precious seed packet that each one had carried at +its heart. No wonder the children clapped their hands, that joyous +spring, when their treasures were so plentiful; but they feared that +they would never have such good luck again, even if they lived to be +as old as the old people who had 'never seen such a spring before.'</p> + +<p>It was not until a year later that the delighted children discovered +that the long spell of sunshine and the Enchanter Wind had worked a +lasting magic. The ripened seed had been scattered far and wide. The +primroses had come to the North to stay; and new Paradises were +springing up everywhere.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span>Now this is a primrose parable of many things, and worth remembering. +Among other things it is an illustration of the change that was +wrought all over England by the preaching of George Fox.</p> + +<p>Think once again of the long bleak years of his youth, when he was +struggling in a dark world into which it seemed as if no ray of light +could pierce; when he and everyone else seemed to be frozen up in a +wintry religion, without life or warmth. Then think how at length he +felt the sap rising in his own soul, turning his whole being to the +Light, as he found 'there is one, even Christ Jesus, that can speak to +thy condition.' This discovery taught him that in all other men's +hearts too, if they only knew, there was 'that of God.' Henceforward, +to proclaim that Light to others and the seed within their own hearts +that responds to the beams of the Sun of Righteousness, was the +service to which George Fox devoted his whole life. As his own being +blossomed in the spiritual sunshine of his great discovery, he was +able to persuade hundreds and thousands of other frozen hearts to +yield themselves and turn to the Light, and open and blossom also in +that same sunshine. A greater wonder followed. Those other lives, as +they yielded themselves, began to ripen too, in different ways, but +silently and surely, until they in their turn were ready to scatter +the new seed, or, in the language of their day, to 'Publish Truth' up +and down all over the country, until the whole face of England was +changed.</p> + +<p>By the time of George Fox's death, more than one out of every hundred +among all the people of England was a Friend. But the Friends never +regarded <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span>themselves as a Sect, although Sects were flourishing at +that time. In 1640 it is said that twenty new kinds of Sects blossomed +out in the course of one week. George Fox and his followers believed +that the discovery they had made was meant for everybody, as much as +sunshine is. Other people nicknamed them 'Quakers,' but they always +spoke of themselves by names that the whole world was welcome to +share: 'Children of the Light,' 'Friends of the Truth,' or simply +'Friends.' There was nothing exclusive about such names as these. +There was no such thing as membership in a society then or for more +than fifty years afterwards. Anyone who was convinced by what he had +heard, and lived in the spirit of what he professed, became 'Truth's +Friend' in his turn.</p> + +<p>Neither was there anything exclusive in George Fox's message. 'Keep +yourselves in an universal spirit' was what he both preached and +practised. It was in 'an universal spirit' that he and his followers +scattered all over the country. No wonder they earned the name of 'the +Valiant Sixty,' that little band of comrades who in 1654 started out +from the North Country on their mission of convincing all England of +'the Truth.'</p> + +<p>They were nearly all young men, their leader Fox himself still only +thirty at this time. Francis Howgill and John Camm were two of the +very few elders in the company. They usually travelled in couples, +dear friends naturally going together; for is not the best work always +done with the right companion? George Fox, who was leader, not by any +outward signs of authority but by fervour of inward power and zeal, +occasionally travelled alone. More often he took <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span>with him a comrade, +such as Richard Farnsworth (of whom we have heard at Pendle), or James +Nayler, or Leonard Fell, or many another, of whom there are other +stories yet to tell.</p> + +<p>Never was George Fox happier than when he was sowing the seed in a new +place. All over England there are memories of him, even as far away as +the Land's End.</p> + +<p>When, in 1656, he reached the rocky peninsula of granite at the +extreme south-west of England, he wrote in his journal: 'At Land's End +we had a precious meeting. Here was a fisherman, Nicholas Jose, +convinced, that became a faithful minister. He spoke in meetings and +declared truth to the people, so that I told Friends he was "like +Peter." I was glad the Lord raised up His standard in those dark parts +of the nation, where since there is a fine meeting of honest-hearted +Friends, and a great people the Lord will have in that country.'</p> + +<p>Unluckily, some of the other Cornish fisherfolk were not at all 'like +Peter.' They were wreckers, and used to entice ships on to the rocks +by means of false lights in order to enrich themselves with the spoils +washed up on their coasts. This is why George Fox spoke of them as a +'dark people,' and was moved to put forth a paper 'warning them +against such wicked practices.'</p> + +<p>There are memories of him also in the town which was then called +Smethwick, and is now called Falmouth, as well as at grim old +Pendennis Castle: one of the twin castles that had been built by King +Henry the Eighth to guard the mouth of Falmouth harbour. Here George +Fox was confined. From hence he was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span>carried to Launceston, where he +lay for many weeks in prison in the awful den of Doomsdale, under +conditions so dreadful that it is impossible to describe them here. +When, at length, he was set at liberty he found a refuge at the +hospitable farmhouse of Tregangeeves near St. Austell—the Swarthmoor +of the West of England—with its warm-hearted mistress, Loveday +Hambley. At Exeter he stayed at an inn, at the foot of the bridge, +named 'the Seven Stars.' In our own day some of his followers have +found another 'Inn of Shining Stars' at Exeter also, when their turn +has come to be lodged within the grim walls of the Gaol for conscience +sake.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p>Now let us borrow the Giant's Seven-Leagued boots, and fancy ourselves +in the far North of England, in 1657, just leaving Cumberland and +crossing the Scottish border. Again the same square-set figure in the +plain, soft, wide hat is riding ahead. But on this journey George Fox +has several others with him: one is our old acquaintance, James +Lancaster: Alexander Parker is the name of another of his companions: +the third, Robert Widders, Fox himself described as 'a thundering +man.' With them rides a certain Colonel William Osborne, 'one of the +earliest Quaker preachers north of the Tweed, who came into Cumberland +at this time on purpose to guide the party.'<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> Colonel Osborne, who +had been present with the other travellers at a meeting at Pardshaw +Crag shortly before, 'said that he never saw such a glorious meeting +in his life.'</p> + +<p>'Fox says that as soon as his horse set foot across the Border, the +infinite sparks of life sparkled about <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span>him, and as he rode along he +saw that the seed of the seedsman Christ was sown, but abundance of +clods of foul and filthy earth was above it.'<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a></p> + +<p>A high-born Scottish lady, named Lady Margaret Hamilton, was convinced +on this journey. She afterwards went in her turn to warn Oliver +Cromwell of the Day of the Lord that was coming upon him. Various +other distinguished people seem also to have been convinced at this +time. The names of Fox's new disciples sound unusually imposing: +'Judge Swinton of Swinton; Sir Gideon Scott of Highchester; Walter +Scott of Raeburn, Sir Gideon's brother; Charles Ormiston, merchant, +Kelso; Anthony Haig of Bemersyde and William his brother'; but +Quakerism never took firm root in the Northern Kingdom, as it did +among the dalesmen and townsfolk farther South.</p> + +<p>Fox journeyed on, right into the Highlands, but he got no welcome +there. 'We went among the clans,' he says, 'and they were devilish, +and like to have spoiled us and our horses, and run with pitchforks at +us, but through the Lord's power we escaped them.' At Perth, the +Baptists were very bitter, and persuaded the Governor to drive the +party from the town, whereupon 'James Lancaster was moved to sound and +sing in the power of God, and I was moved to sound the Day of the +Lord, the glorious everlasting Gospel; and all the streets were up and +filled with people: and the soldiers were so ashamed that they cried, +and said they had rather have gone to Jamaica<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> than to guard us so, +and then they set <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span>us in a boat and set us over the water.'</p> + +<p>At Leith many officers of the army and their wives came to see Fox. +Among these latter was a certain Mrs. Billing, who lived alone, having +quarrelled with her husband. She brought a handful of coral ornaments +with her, and threw them on the table ostentatiously, in order to see +if Fox would preach a sermon against such gewgaws, since the Quakers +were well known to disapprove of jewellery and other vanities.</p> + +<p>'I took no notice of it,' says Fox, 'but declared Truth to her, and +she was reached.' What a picture it makes! The fine lady, with her +chains and brooches and rings of smooth, rose-coloured coral heaped up +on the table before her, her eyes cast down as she pretended to let +the pretty trifles slip idly through her fingers, yet glancing up now +and then, under her eyelashes, to see if she had managed to attract +the great preacher's attention; and Fox, noticing the baubles well +enough, but paying no attention to them. Fixing his piercing eyes not +on the coral but on its owner, he spoke to Mrs. Billing with such +power that her whole life was changed. Once more Fox had found 'that +of God' within this seemingly frivolous woman.</p> + +<p>Before he left Scotland he had the happiness of persuading Mrs. +Billing to send for her husband, and of helping to make up the quarrel +between them. They agreed eventually to live in unity together once +more as man and wife.</p> + +<p>Fox journeyed on, in this way, year after year, always sowing the seed +wherever he went, and sometimes having the joy of seeing it spring up +above the clods and bring forth fruit an hundredfold. Even during the +long weary intervals of captivity this service <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span>still continued. +'Indeed, Fox and his fellow-sufferers never looked upon prison as an +interruption in their life service, but used the new surroundings in a +fresh campaign.'<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> Thus, the historian tells us: 'Though George Fox +found good entertainment, yet he did not settle there but kept in a +continual motion, going from one place to another, to beget souls unto +God.'<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a></p> + +<p>The rest of the 'Valiant Sixty,' meanwhile, were likewise busy, going +up and down the country, working in different places and with +different methods, but all intent on the one enterprise of 'Publishing +Truth.' 'And so when the churches were settled in the North,' says the +Journal, 'and the Lord had raised up many and sent forth many into His +Vineyard to preach His everlasting Gospel, as Francis Howgill and +Edward Burrough to London, John Camm and John Audland to Bristol +through the countries, Richard Hubberthorne and George Whitehead +towards Norwich, and Thomas Holme unto Wales, that a matter of sixty +ministers did the Lord raise up and send abroad out of the North +Countries.'</p> + +<p>There were far fewer big towns in England in those days than there are +now. Probably at least two-thirds of the people lived in the country, +and only the remaining third were townsfolk: nowadays the proportions +are more than reversed. There was then no thickly populated 'Black +Country'; there were then no humming mills in the woollen districts of +Yorkshire, no iron and steel works soiling the pure rivers of Tees and +Wear and Tyne. Most of the chief towns <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span>and industries at that time +were in the South.</p> + +<p>'London had a population of half a million. Bristol, the principal +seaport, had about thirty thousand; Norwich, with a similar number of +inhabitants, was still the largest manufacturing city. The publishers +of Truth would now make these three places their chief fields of +service, showing something of the same concentration of effort at +strategic centres which marked the extension of Christianity through +the Roman Empire, under the leadership of Paul.'<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a></p> + +<p>A certain impetuous lad named James Parnell, already a noted Minister +though still in his teens, was hard at work in the counties of East +Anglia. In the next story we shall hear how Howgill and Burrough fared +in their mission 'to conquer London.'</p> + +<p>Splendid tidings came from the two Johns, John Audland and John Camm, +of their progress in Bristol and the West: 'The mighty power of God is +that way; that is a precious city and a gallant people: their net is +like to break with fishes, they have caught so much there and all the +coast thereabout.' The memory of the enthusiasm of those early days +lingered long in the West, in the memory of those who had shared in +them. 'Ah! those great meetings in the Orchard at Bristol I may not +forget,' wrote John Audland many years later, 'I would so gladly have +spread my net over all and have gathered all, that I forgot myself, +never considering the inability of my body,—but it's well, my reward +is with me, and I am content to give up and be with the Lord, for that +my soul values above all things.'</p> + +<p>Women also were among the first Publishers of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span>Truth and helped to +spread the message. Even before Burrough and Howgill reached London, +two women had been there, gently scattering the new seed. It is +recorded that one of them, named Isabella Buttery, 'sometimes spoke a +few words in this small meeting.'</p> + +<p>Two Quaker girls from Kendal, Elizabeth Leavens and 'little Elizabeth +Fletcher,' were the first to preach in Oxford, and a terrible time +they had of it. 'Little Elizabeth Fletcher' was then only seventeen, +'a modest, grave, young woman.' Jane Waugh, one of the 'convinced' +serving-maids at Cammsgill, was a friend of hers; but Jane Waugh's +turn for suffering had not yet come. She was still in the North when +the two Elizabeths reached Oxford. This is the account of what befell +them there: 'The 20th day of the 4th month [June] 1654 came to this +city two maids, who went through the streets and into the Colleges, +steeple and tower houses, preaching repentance and declaring the word +of the Lord to the people.... On the 25th day of the same month they +were moved to go to Martin's Mass House (<i>alias</i>) Carefox, where one +of those maids, after the priest had done, spake something in answer +to what the priest had before spoken in exhortation to the people, and +presently were by two Justices sent to prison.' The Mayor of Oxford +seems to have been pleased with the behaviour of the two girls and +caused them to be set at liberty again. But the Vice-Chancellor and +the Justices would not agree to this, and 'earnestly enquired from +whence they came, and their business to Oxford. They answered, "they +were commanded of the Lord to come"; and it being demanded "what to +do," they <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span>answered, to "declare against Sin and Ungodliness, which +they lived in." And at this answer the Vice-Chancellor and the +Justices ordered their punishment, to be whipped out of town, and +demanding of the Mayor to agree to the same, and for refusing, said +they would do it of themselves, and signing a paper, the contents +whereof was this: To be severely whipped, and sent out of Town as +Vagrants. And forthwith, because of the tumult, they were put into the +Cage, a place common for the worst of people; and accordingly the next +morning, they were whipped, and sent away, and on the backside of the +City, meeting some scholars, they were moved to speak to them, who +fell on them very violently, and drew them into John's College, where +they tied them back to back and pumped water on them, until they were +almost stifled; and they being met at another time as they passed +through a Graveyard, where a corpse was to be buried, Elizabeth Holme +spake something to the Priest and people, and one Ann Andrews thrust +her over a grave stone, which hurt she felt near to her dying day.'</p> + +<p>Two other women, Elizabeth Williams and a certain Mary Fisher (who was +hereafter to go on a Mission to no less a person than the Grand Turk), +were also cruelly flogged at Cambridge for daring to 'publish Truth' +there. 'The Mayor ... issued his warrant to the Constable to whip them +at the Market Cross till the blood ran down their bodies; and ordered +three of his sergeants to see that sentence, equally cruel and +lawless, severely executed. The poor women kneeling down, in Christian +meekness besought the Lord to forgive him, for that he knew not what +he did: so <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span>they were led to the Market Cross, calling upon God to +strengthen their Faith. The Executioner commanded them to put off +their clothes, which they refused. Then he stripped them naked to the +waist, put their arms into the whipping-post, and executed the Mayor's +warrant far more cruelly than is usually done to the worst of +malefactors, so that their flesh was miserably cut and torn. The +constancy and patience which they expressed under this barbarous usage +was astonishing to the beholders, for they endured the cruel torture +without the least change of countenance or appearance of uneasiness, +and in the midst of their punishment sang and rejoiced, saying, "The +Lord be blessed, the Lord be praised, who hath thus honoured us and +strengthened us to suffer for his Name's sake." ... As they were led +back into the town they exhorted the people to fear God, not man, +telling them "this was but the beginning of the sufferings of the +people of God."'<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a></p> + +<p>These two women were the first Friends to be publicly whipped in +England. But their prophecy that 'this was but the beginning' was only +too literally fulfilled.</p> + +<p>Not only had bodily sufferings to be undergone by these brave 'First +Publishers.' Malicious reports were also spread against them, which +must have been almost harder to bear.</p> + +<p>William Prynne, the same William Prynne who had had his own ears +cropped in earlier days by order of the Star Chamber, but who had not, +apparently, learned charity to others through his own sufferings, +published a pamphlet that was spread abroad <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span>throughout England. It +was called 'The Quakers unmasked, and clearly detected to be but the +Spawn of Romish Frogs, Jesuits and Franciscan Friars, sent from Rome +to seduce the intoxicated giddy-headed English Nation.' George Fox +called the pamphlet in which he answered this charge by an almost +equally uncharitable title: 'The Unmasking and Discovery of +Antichrist, with all the false Prophets, by the true Light which comes +from Christ Jesus.'</p> + +<p>The seventeenth century has truly been called 'a very ill-mannered +century.' Certainly these were not pretty names for pamphlets that +were so widely read that, to quote the graphic expression of an +earlier writer, 'they walked up and down England at deer rates.'</p> + +<p>Yet, still, in spite of bodily ill-usage and imprisonment, through +good report and through evil report, through fair weather and foul, +the work of scattering the seed continued steadily, day after day, +month after month, year after year. The messengers went on, undaunted; +the Message spread and took root throughout the land; the trials of +the work were swallowed up in the triumphant joy of service and of +'Publishing Truth.'</p> + +<br /> +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<br /> + +<h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> W.C. Braithwaite, <i>Beginnings of Quakerism</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> W.C. Braithwaite, <i>Beginnings of Quakerism</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> Jamaica, with its deadly climate, had lately been taken +by England from Spain, and was at this time proving the grave of +hundreds of English soldiers.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> <i>Cameos from the Life of George Fox</i>, by E.E. Taylor.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> Sewel's <i>History of the Quakers</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> W.C. Braithwaite, <i>Beginnings of Quakerism</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> Besse, <i>Sufferings of the Quakers</i>.</p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="XVI_WRESTLING_FOR_GOD" id="XVI_WRESTLING_FOR_GOD"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>XVI. WRESTLING FOR GOD<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Being but a boy, Edward Burrough<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> +had the spirit of a man. Reviling, +slandering, buffetting and caning +were oft his lot. Nothing could +make this hero +shrink.'<span class="fakesc">—SEWEL</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'His natural disposition was bold +and manly, what he took in hand he +did with his might; loving, +courteous, merciful and easy to be +entreated; he delighted in +conference and reading of the holy +scriptures.'—'Piety Promoted.'</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Dear Brother, mind the Lord and +stand in His will and counsel. And +dwell in the pure measure of God +in thee, and there thou wilt see +the Lord God present with thee. +For the bringing forth many out of +prison art thou there set; behold +the word of the Lord cannot be +bound. The Lord God of Power give +thee wisdom, courage, manhood, and +boldness, to thresh down all +deceit. Dear Heart, be valiant, +and mind the pure Spirit of God in +thee, to guide thee up into God, +to thunder down all deceit within +and without. So farewell, and God +Almighty keep you.'<span class="fakesc">—GEORGE +FOX</span>, to a friend in the +ministry.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'So, all dear and tender hearts, +abide in the counsel of God, and +let not the world overcome your +minds but wait for a daily victory +over it.'<span class="fakesc">—E. +BURROUGH</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Give me the strength to +surrender my strength to Thee in +Love.'<span class="fakesc">—RABINDRANATH +TAGORE</span>.</i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>XVI. WRESTLING FOR GOD</h3> +<br /> + +<p>'A brisk young man with a ready tongue' was the verdict passed upon +Edward Burrough, the hero of this story, by a certain Mr. Thomas +Ellwood when he met him first in the year 1659.</p> + +<p>Ellwood himself, who thus described his new acquaintance, was a young +man too at that time, of good education and scholarly tastes. He +became later the friend of a certain Mr. John Milton, who thought +sufficiently well of his judgment to allow him to read his poetry +before it was published, and to ask him what he thought of it; even, +occasionally, to act upon his suggestions. Ellwood, therefore, was +clearly the possessor of a sober judgment, and not a likely person to +be carried away by the glib words of a wandering preacher. Yet that +'brisk young man,' Edward Burrough, did not only 'reach him' with his +'ready tongue,' he also completely 'convinced' him, and altered his +whole life: Ellwood returned to his family ready to suffer hardship if +need be on behalf of his newly-found faith.</p> + +<p>Ellwood's own adventures, however, do not concern us here, but those +of the young man who convinced him.</p> + +<p>Edward Burrough was one of the best loved and most valiant of all +those 'Valiant Sixty' ministers who went forth throughout the length +and breadth of England, in 1654, on their new, wonderful enterprise of +'Publishing Truth.' If Edward Burrough was still 'young and brisk' +when Ellwood first came across <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span>him, he must have been yet younger and +brisker on that summer's day, five years earlier, when he left his +home in Westmorland in order to 'conquer London.' This was an +ambitious undertaking truly for any man, however brisk and ready of +tongue.</p> + +<p>It is true that the London of those long-ago days of the Commonwealth, +before the Great Fire, was a much more compact city than the gigantic, +overgrown London of to-day. Instead of 'sprawling over five or six +counties,'<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> and containing six or seven million inhabitants, London +was then a comparatively small place, its population, though rapidly +increasing, did not yet number one million.</p> + +<p>'An old map of the year 1610 shows us that London and Westminster were +then two neighbouring cities surrounded by meadows. "Totten Court" was +an outlying country village. Oxford Street is marked on this map as +"The way to Uxbridge," and runs between meadows and pastures. The +Tower, Westminster Abbey, St. Paul's Church, ... and some other +landmarks are indeed there, but it is curious to read the accounts +given by the chronicles of the day of its narrow and dirty streets, in +which carts and coaches jostled one another, and foot passengers found +it difficult to get along at all.... When the King went to Parliament, +faggots were thrown into the ruts in the streets through which he +passed, to make it easier for his state coach to drive over the uneven +roads!'<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a></p> + +<p>Nevertheless this gay little countrified town of timbered houses, +surrounded by meadows and orchards, and overlooked by the green +heights of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span>'Hamsted' and Primrose Hill, was then as now the Capital +City of England. And England under Oliver Cromwell was one of the most +powerful of the States of Europe.</p> + +<p>Therefore if a young man barely out of his teens were to succeed in +'conquering London,' and bending it to his will, he would certainly +need all his briskness and readiness of tongue.</p> + +<p>Edward Burrough probably entered London alone and on foot, after a +journey extending over several weeks. He had left his native +Westmorland in company with good John Camm, the 'statesman' farmer of +Cammsgill. The first stages of their journey were made on horseback. +Many a quiet talk the two men must have had together as they rode +through the green lanes of England,—that long-ago England of the +Commonwealth, its clear skies unstained by any tall chimneys or +factory smoke. There were but few hedgerows then, 'a single hedge is a +marked feature in the contemporary maps.'<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> The cornfields stretched +away in a broad, unbroken expanse as they do to-day on the Continent +of Europe and in the lands of the New World.</p> + +<p>As they rode, Camm would tell Burrough, doubtless, of his first sight +of George Fox, preaching in Sedbergh Churchyard, under the ancient +yew-tree opposite the market cross, on that never-to-be-forgotten day +of the Whitsuntide Fair. The story of the 'Wonderful Fortnight' would +be sure to follow; of the 'Mighty Meeting' on the Fell outside Firbank +Chapel; of the gathering of the Seekers at Preston Patrick; and of yet +another open-air meeting, when hundreds <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span>of people assembled one +memorable First Day near his own hillside farm at Cammsgill.</p> + +<p>Then it would be the younger man's turn to tell his tale.</p> + +<p>'He was born in the barony of Kendal ... of parents who for their +honest and virtuous life were in good repute; he was well educated, +and trained up in such learning as that country did afford.... By his +parents he was trained up in the episcopal worship,'<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a> but for a +long time, he says that the only religion that he practised was 'going +to church one day in seven to hear a man preach, to read, and sing, +and rabble over a prayer.' (It is easy to smile at the old-fashioned +word; but let us try to remember it when we ourselves are tempted to +get up too late in the morning and 'rabble over' our own prayers.)</p> + +<p>Gradually the unseen world grew more real. A beautiful and comforting +message was given to him in his heart, 'Whom God once loves, he loves +for ever.' Now he grew weary of hearing any of the priests, for he saw +they did not possess what they spoke of to others, and sometimes he +began to question his own experiences.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless he felt it a grievous trial to give up all his prospects +of earthly advancement and become a Quaker. Yet from the day he +listened to George Fox preaching at Underbarrow there was no other +course open to him; though his own parents were much incensed with him +for daring to join this despised people. They even refused to +acknowledge him any longer as a member of their family. Being rejected +as a son, therefore, he begged to be allowed to stay <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span>on in his home +and work as a servant, but this, too, was refused. Thus being, as he +says, 'separated from all the glory of the world, and from all his +acquaintance and kindred,' he betook himself to the company of 'a +poor, despised people called Quakers.'</p> + +<p>It must have been a comfort to him, after being cast off by his own +family, to find himself adopted by a still larger family of friends, +and to become one of the 'Valiant Sixty' entrusted with the great +adventure of Publishing Truth.</p> + +<p>Riding along with good John Camm, with talk to beguile the way, was +pleasant travelling; but this happy companionship was not to last very +long. For as they journeyed and came near the 'Middle Kingdom,' or +Midlands, they fell in with another of 'Truth's Publishers.'</p> + +<p>This was none other than their Westmorland neighbour, John Audland, +'the ruddy-faced linen-draper of Crosslands,' John Camm's own especial +comrade and pair among the 'Sixty.'</p> + +<p>It may have been a prearranged plan that they should meet here; anyway +Camm turned aside with Audland and went on with him to Bristol, where +he had already begun to scatter the seed in the west of England, while +Edward Burrough pursued his journey in solitude towards London.<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a> +But his days of loneliness were not to last for long. Either just +before or just after his arrival in the great city, two other +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span>Publishers also reached the metropolis, one of whom, Francis Howgill, +was to be his own especial comrade and pair in the task of 'conquering +London.' This was that same Francis Howgill, a considerably older man +than Burrough, and formerly a leader among the Seekers, who had been +preaching that memorable day at Firbank when he thought George Fox +looked into the Chapel and was so much struck that 'you could have +killed him with a crab-apple.' Now that they had come together, +however, it would have taken more than many crab-apples to deter him +and Burrough from their Mission. Together the two friends laid their +plans for the capture of London, and together they proceeded to carry +them out. The success they met with was astonishing. 'By the arm of +the Lord,' writes Howgill, 'all falls before us, according to the word +of the Lord before I came to this City, that all should be as a +plain.'</p> + +<p>Amidst their engrossing labours in the capital the two London +'Publishers' did not forget to send news of their work to Friends in +the North. Many letters written at this time remain. Those to Margaret +Fell, especially, give a vivid picture of their progress. These +letters are signed sometimes by Howgill, sometimes by Burrough, +sometimes by both together. But, whatever the signature, the pronouns +'I' and 'we' are used indiscriminately, as if to show that the writers +were not only united in the service of Truth but were also one in +heart.</p> + +<p>'We two,' they say in one letter, 'are constrained to stay in this +city; but we are not alone, for the power of our Father is with us, +and it is daily made manifest through weakness, even to the stopping +of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span>mouths of lions and to the confounding of the serpent's +wisdom; eternal praises to Him for evermore. In this city, iniquity is +grown to the height. We have three meetings or more every week, very +large, more than any place will contain, and which we can conveniently +meet in. Many of all sorts come to us and many of all sorts are +convinced, yea, hundreds do believe....'</p> + +<p>Again: 'We get Friends together on the First Days to meet together out +of the rude multitude; and we two go to the great meeting place which +we have, which will hold a thousand people, which is always nearly +filled, there to thresh among the world; and we stay till twelve or +one o'clock and then pass away, the one to the one place and the other +to another place where Friends are met in private; and stay till four +or five o'clock.'</p> + +<p>Only a month later yet another 'great place' had to be taken for a +'threshing-floor,' or hall where public meetings could be held. To +these meetings anyone might come and listen to the preachers' message, +which 'threshed them like grain, and sifted the wheat from the "light +chaffy minds" among the hearers.'</p> + +<p>How 'chaffy' and frivolous this gay world of London appeared to these +first Publishers, consumed with the burning eagerness of their +mission, the following description shows. It occurs in a letter from +George Fox himself when he, too, came to the metropolis, a few months +later.</p> + +<p>'What a world this is,' he writes ... 'altogether carried with +fooleries and vanities both men and women ... putting on gold, gay +apparel, plaiting the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span>hair, men and women they are powdering it, +making their backs as if they were bags of meal, and they look so +strange that they cannot look at one another. Pride hath puffed up +every one, they are out of the fear of God, men and women, young and +old, one puffs up another, they are not in the fashion of the world +else, they are not in esteem else, they shall not be respected else, +if they have not gold and silver upon their backs, or his hair be not +powdered. If he have a company of ribbons hung about his waist, red or +white, or black or yellow, and about his knees, and gets a Company in +his hat, and powders his hair, then he is a brave man, then he is +accepted, then he is no Quaker.... Likewise the women having their +gold, their spots on their faces, noses, cheeks, foreheads, having +their rings on their fingers, wearing gold, having their cuffs doubled +under and about like a butcher with white sleeves' (how pretty they +must have been!), 'having their ribbons tied about their hands, and +three or four gold laces about their clothes, "this is no Quaker," say +they.... Now are not all these that have got these ribbons hung about +their arms, backs, waists, knees, hats, hands, like unto fiddlers' +boys, and shew that you are gotten into the basest contemptible life +as be in the fashion of the fiddlers' boys and stage-players, and +quite out of the paths and steeps of solid men.... And further to get +a pair of breeches like a coat and hang them about with points up +almost to the middle, and a pair of double cuffs upon his hands, and a +feather in his cap, and to say, "Here's a gentleman, bow before him, +put off your hats, bow, get a company of fiddlers, a set of music and +women to dance, this is a brave fellow, up in the chamber <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span>without and +up in the chamber within," are these your fine Christians? "Yea," say +they. "Yea but," say the serious people, "they are not of Christ's +life." And to see such a company as are in the fashions of the world +... get a couple of bowls in their hands or tables [dice] or +shovel-board, or a horse with a Company of ribbons on his head as he +hath on his own, and a ring in his ear; and so go to horse-racing to +spoil the creature. Oh these are gentlemen, these are bred up +gentlemen! these are brave fellows and they must have their +recreation, and pleasures are lawful. These are bad Christians and +shew that they are gluttoned with the creature and then the flesh +rejoiceth!'</p> + +<p>No wonder that Edward Burrough wrote to Margaret Fell that 'in this +city iniquity is grown to the height,' and again, in a later letter: +'There are hundreds convinced, but not many great or noble do receive +our testimony ... we are much refreshed, we receive letters from all +quarters, the work goes on fast everywhere.... Richard Hubberthorne is +yet in prison and James Parnell at Cambridge.... Our dear brethren +John Audland and John Camm we hear from, and we write to one another +twice in the week. They are near us, they are precious and the work of +the Lord is great in Bristol.'</p> + +<p>Margaret Fell writes back in answer, like a true mother in Israel, +'You are all dear unto me, and all are present with me, and are all +met together in my heart.'</p> + +<p>And now, having heard what the 'Valiant Sixty' thought of London, what +did London think of the 'Valiant Sixty'? Many years later a certain +William Spurry wrote of these early days: 'I being in London <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span>at the +time of the first Publication of Truth, there was a report spread in +the City that there was a sort of people come there that went by the +name of plain North Country plow men, who did differ in judgment to +all other people in that City, who I was very desirous to see and +converse with. And upon strict enquiry I was informed that they did +meet at one Widow Matthews in White Cross Street, in her garden, where +I repaired, where was our dear friends Edward Burrough and Francis +Howgill, who declared the Lord's everlasting Truth in the +demonstration of the Spirit of Life, where myself and many more were +convinced. A little time after there was a silent meeting appointed +and kept at Sarah Sawyer's in Rainbow Alley.'</p> + +<p>Very rural and unlike London these places sound: but meetings were not +only held in secluded spots, such as the garden in White Cross Street, +and the house in Rainbow Alley, they were also held in the tumultuous +centres of Vanity Fair.</p> + +<p>'Edward Burrough,' says Sewel the historian, 'though he was a very +young man when he first came forth, yet grew in wisdom and valour so +that he feared not the face of man.' 'At London there is a custom in +summer time, when the evening approaches and tradesmen leave off +working, that many lusty fellows meet in the fields, to try their +skill and strength at wrestling, where generally a multitude of people +stand gazing in a round. Now it so fell out, that Edward Burrough +passed by the place where they were wrestling, and standing still +among the spectators, saw how a strong and dexterous fellow had +already thrown three others, and was now waiting for a fourth +champion, if any durst venture to enter the lists. At length <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span>none +being bold enough to try, E. Burrough stepped into the ring (commonly +made up of all sorts of people), and having looked upon the wrestler +with a serious countenance, the man was not a little surprised, +instead of an airy antagonist, to meet with a grave and awful young +man; and all stood amazed at this sight, eagerly expecting what would +be the issue of this combat. But it was quite another fight Edward +Burrough aimed at. For having already fought against spiritual +wickedness, that had once prevailed in him and having overcome it in +measure, by the grace of God, he now endeavoured also to fight against +it in others, and to turn them from the evil of their ways. With this +intention he began very seriously to speak to the standers by, and +that with such a heart-piercing power, that he was heard by this mixed +multitude with no less attention than admiration; for his speech +tended to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of +Satan to God.</p> + +<p>'Thus he preached zealously; and though many might look upon this as a +novelty, yet it was of such effect that many were convinced of the +truth.... And indeed he was one of those valiants, whose bow never +turned back ... nay he was such an excellent instrument in the hand of +God that even some mighty and eminent men were touched to the heart by +the power of the word of life which he preached' ... 'using few words +but preaching after a new fashion so that he was called a "son of +thunder and also of consolation."'</p> + +<p>'Now I come also to the glorious exit of E. Burrough, that valiant +hero. For several years he had been very much in London, and had there +preached the gospel with piercing and powerful declarations. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span>And that +city was so near to him, that oftentimes, when persecution grew hot, +he said to Francis Howgill, his bosom friend, "I can go freely to the +city of London, and lay down my life for a testimony of that truth, +which I have declared through the power and spirit of God." Being in +this year [1662] at Bristol, and thereabouts, and moved to return to +London, he said to many of his friends, when he took leave of them, +that he did not know he should see their faces any more; and therefore +he exhorted them to faithfulness and steadfastness, in that wherein +they had found rest for their souls. And to some he said, "I am now +going up to the city of London again, to lay down my life for the +gospel, and suffer among friends in that place."'<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a></p> + +<p>Thus it befell that Edward Burrough was called to a more deadly +wrestling match than any in the pleasant London fields. He was thrown +into prison, and there he had to face a mortal foe in the gaol-fever +that was then raging in that noisome den. This was to wrestle in grim +earnest, with Death himself for an adversary; and in this wrestling +match Death was the conqueror.</p> + +<p>Charles the Second was now on the throne. He knew and respected Edward +Burrough, and did his best to rescue him. Knowing the pestilential and +overcrowded state of Newgate at that time, the Merry Monarch, to his +lasting credit, sent a royal warrant for the release of Edward +Burrough and some of the other prisoners, when he heard of the danger +they were in from the foul state of the prison. But this order a +certain cruel and persecuting Alderman, named Richard Brown, and some +magistrates of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span>City of London contrived to thwart. The prisoners +remained in the gaol. Edward Burrough caught the fever, and grew +rapidly worse. On his death-bed he said, 'Lord, forgive Richard Brown, +who imprisoned me, if he may be forgiven.' Later on he said, 'I have +served my God in my generation, and that Spirit, which has lived and +ruled in me shall yet break forth in thousands.' 'The morning before +he departed his life ... he said, "Now my soul and spirit is centred +into its own being with God; and this form of person must return from +whence it was taken...."' A few moments later, in crowded Newgate, he +peacefully fell asleep. 'This was the exit of E. Burrough, who in his +flourishing youth, about the age of eight and twenty, in an unmarried +state, changed this mortal life for an incorruptible, and whose +youthful summer flower was cut down in the winter season, after he had +very zealously preached the gospel about ten years.'<a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a></p> + +<p>Francis Howgill, now left desolate and alone, poured forth a touching +lament for his vanished 'yoke-fellow.'</p> + +<p>'It was my lot,' he writes, 'to be his companion and fellow-labourer +in the work of the gospel where-unto we were called, for many years +together. And oh! when I consider, my heart is broken; how sweetly we +walked together for many months and years in which we had perfect +knowledge of one another's hearts and perfect unity of spirit. Not so +much as one cross word or one hard thought of discontent ever rose (I +believe) in either of our hearts for ten years together.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span>George Fox, no mean fighter himself, adds this comment: 'Edward +Burrough never turned his back on the Truth, nor his back from any out +of the Truth. A valiant warrior, more than a conqueror, who hath got +the crown through death and sufferings; who is dead, but yet liveth +amongst us, and amongst us is alive.'</p> + +<p>But it is from Francis Howgill, who knew him best and loved him most +of all, that we learn the inmost secret of the life of this mighty +wrestler, when he says:</p> + +<p class="cen">'<span class="fakesc">HIS VERY STRENGTH WAS BENDED AFTER GOD</span>.'</p> + +<div class="img"> +<a href="images/imagep254.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep254.jpg" alt="EB" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;"><span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<br /> +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<br /> + +<h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> <i>Story of Quakerism</i>, E.B. Emmott.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> <i>Story of Quakerism</i>, E.B. Emmott.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> <i>England under the Stuarts</i>, G.M. Trevelyan.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> Sewel's <i>History of the Quakers</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> I have followed Thomas Camm's account of his father's +journey with Edward Burrough, and of their meeting with John Audland +in the Midlands, as given in his book, <i>The Memory of the Righteous +Revived</i>. W.C. Braithwaite, however, in his <i>Beginnings of Quakerism</i>, +thinks it more probable that Francis Howgill was E. Burrough's +companion from the North, and that the two friends reached London +together.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> Sewel's <i>History of the Quakers</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> Sewel's <i>History of the Quakers</i>.</p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="XVII_LITTLE_JAMES" id="XVII_LITTLE_JAMES"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>XVII. LITTLE JAMES AND HIS JOURNEYS<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>O, how beautiful is the spring in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> +a barren field, where barrenness +and deadness fly away. As the +spring comes on, the winter casts +her coat and the summer is nigh. +O, wait to see and read these +things within. You that have been +as barren and dead and dry without +sap; unto you the Sun of +Righteousness is risen with +healing in his wings and begins to +shine in your coasts.... O, mind +the secret sprigs and tender +plants. Now you are called to +dress the garden. Let not the +weeds and wild plants remain. +Peevishness is a weed; anger is a +weed; self-love and self-will are +weeds; pride is a wild plant; +covetousness is a wild plant; +lightness and vanity are wild +plants, and lust is the root of +all. And these things have had a +room in your gardens, and have +been tall and strong; and truth, +innocence, and equity have been +left out, and could not be found, +until the Sun of Righteousness +arose and searched out that which +was lost. Therefore, stand not +idle, but come into the vineyard +and work. Your work shall be to +watch and keep out the fowls, +unclean beasts, wild bears and +subtle foxes. And he that is the +Husbandman will pluck up the wild +plants and weeds, and make defence +about the vines. He will tell you +what to do. He who is Father of +the vineyard will be nigh you. And +what is not clear to you, wait for +the fulfilling.<span class="fakesc">—JAMES +PARNELL</span>. (Epistle to Friends +from prison.)</i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>XVII. LITTLE JAMES AND HIS JOURNEYS</h3> + +<div class="block"><p class="noin">'Be willing that Self shall suffer for the Truth, and not the +Truth for Self.'</p> + +<p class="right"><span class="fakesc">JAMES PARNELL</span>.</p></div> +<br /> + +<p>Tramping! Tramping! Tramping! An endless journey along the white, +dusty highroad it seemed to little James. Indeed the one hundred and +fifty miles that separate Retford in Nottinghamshire from Carlisle in +far-off Cumberland would have been a long distance even for a +full-grown man to travel on foot in those far-off, railroad-less days +of 1652. Whereas little James, who had undertaken this journey right +across England, was but a boy of sixteen, delicate and small for his +age.</p> + +<p>'Ye will never get there, James,' the neighbours cried when he +unfolded his plans. 'To go afoot to Carlisle! Did any one ever hear +the like? It would be a wild-goose chase, even if a man hoped to come +to speak with a King in his palace at the end of it; but for <i>thee</i> to +go such a journey in order to speak but for a few moments with a man +thou dost not know, and in prison, it is nothing but a daft notion! +What ails thee, boy?'</p> + +<p>The only answer James gave was to knit his brows more firmly together, +and to mutter resolutely to himself, as he gathered his few belongings +into a bundle, 'I must and I will see George Fox!'</p> + +<p>George Fox! The secret was out. That was the explanation of this +fantastic journey. George Fox, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span>after gathering a 'great people' up in +the North, was now himself kept a close prisoner in Carlisle Gaol: yet +he was the magnet attracting this lad, frail of body but determined of +will, to travel right across England for the hope of speaking with him +in his prison cell.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p class="noin">Let us look back a little and see how this befell.</p> + +<p>In the stately old church of Saint Swithin at East Retford a record +shows that 'James, son of Thomas Parnell and Sarah his wife, was +baptized there on the sixth day of September 1636.' James' parents +were pious church people. It must have been a proud and thankful day +for them when they took their baby son to be christened in the +beautiful old font in that church, where their elder daughter, Sarah, +had received her name a few years before. On the font may still be +seen the figure of Saint Swithin himself, the patron Saint of the +church. This gentle saint, whose dying wish had been that he might be +buried in no stately building of stone but 'where his grave might be +trod by human feet and watered with the raindrops of heaven,' was the +guardian the parents chose for their little lad. All through his short +life the boy seems to have shared this love of Nature and of the open +air.</p> + +<p>James' parents were well-to-do people, and wisely determined to give +their only son a good education. They sent him, therefore, as soon as +he was old enough, to the Retford Grammar School, to be 'trained up in +the Schools of Literature.' James tells us that he was 'as wild as +others during the time he was at school, and that he was perfect in +sin and iniquity as any in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span>the town where he lived, yea and exceeded +many in the wickedness of his life,' until something or other happened +to sober the wild boy. He does not say what it was. Perhaps it may +have been the news that reached Retford during his school days, that +the King of England had been executed at Whitehall, one cold January +morning. Or it may have been something quite different. Anyhow, before +he left school, he was already anxious and troubled about his soul.</p> + +<p>School days finished, he sought for help in his difficulties from +'priests and professors.' But, like George Fox, a few years earlier, +James Parnell got small help from them. Some of the priests told him +that he was deluded. Others, whose words sounded better, did not +practise what they preached. He says, they 'preached down with their +tongues what they upheld in their lives.' Therefore he decided, out of +his scanty experience, that they all were 'hollow Professors,' and +could be of no use to him. A very hasty judgment! But little James was +tremendously sure of himself at this time, quite certain that he knew +more than most of the people he met, feeling entirely able to set his +neighbours to rights, and yet with a real wish to learn, if only he +could find a true teacher.</p> + +<p>He says, 'I was the first in all that town of Retford which the Lord +was pleased to make known His power in, and turn my heart towards Him +and truly to seek Him, so that I became a wonder to the world and an +astonishment to the heathen round about.'</p> + +<p>He adds that, at this time or a little later, even 'his own relations +became his enemies.' This is not surprising. A young man of fifteen +who described his neighbours and friends as 'the heathen round <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span>about' +must have been a distinctly trying companion to the aforesaid +'heathen.'</p> + +<p>Possibly there was more than one sigh of relief heaved in East Retford +when the first of little James's journeys began. It was to be only a +short one, to 'a people with whom I found union a few miles out of the +town where I lived. The Lord was a-gathering them out of the dark +world to sit down together and to wait upon His name.'</p> + +<p>These people were either a little group of Friends already gathered at +Balby, or they may have been 'Seekers' meeting together here in +Nottinghamshire, as they did in the North, at Sedbergh and Preston +Patrick and many another place, 'not celebrating Baptism or the Holy +Communion,' but 'waiting together in silence to be instruments in the +hand of the Lord.' Truly helpful 'instruments' they proved to little +James, for they sent him straight on to Nottingham, where a company of +'Children of Light' was already gathered, to worship God. 'Children of +Light' is the first, and the most beautiful, name given to the Society +of Friends in England.</p> + +<p>When these Nottingham Friends saw the vehement, impulsive boy, his +thin frame trembling, his eyes glowing, as he poured forth his +difficulties, naturally their thoughts went back to the other lad who +had also passed through severe soul struggles in this same +neighbourhood, some ten or twelve years earlier.</p> + +<p>They all said to him, one after the other, 'James Parnell, thou must +see George Fox.'</p> + +<p>'George Fox!' cried little James eagerly, 'I have never even heard his +name. Who is he? Where is he? I will go and find him this very moment, +if <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span>he can help me.'</p> + +<p>At these words, all the Nottingham Friends shook their heads very +solemnly and sadly and said, 'That is impossible, James, for our +Friend languisheth in Carlisle Gaol. But we can tell thee of him.'</p> + +<p>Then one after another they recounted the well-known story of George +Fox's boyhood, of his difficulties, of his seeking, of his finding, +and lastly of his preaching, when the Power of God shone through him +as he spoke, and melted men's hearts till they became as wax.</p> + +<p>James, drinking in every word, exclaimed breathlessly as soon as the +story was finished, 'That is the man for me. I will set out for +Carlisle this very minute to find him!'</p> + +<p>Of course all the Friends were aghast at the effect of their words. +They declared that he really couldn't and really shouldn't, that it +was out of the question, and that he must do nothing of the kind! They +did their very best to stop him. But little James (who, as we know, +was not in the habit of paying over-much attention to other people's +opinions at any time) treated all these remonstrances as if they had +been thistledown. He swung his small bundle at the end of a short +stick over his shoulder, tightened his belt, tore himself from their +restraining hands, and exclaiming, 'Farewell, Friends, I go to find +George Fox,' off he set on the long, long journey to Carlisle.</p> + +<p>His spirit was aflame with desire to meet his unknown friend. The +miles seemed few and short that separated him from his goal. But +doubtless some of the women among the 'Children of Light' wiped their +eyes as they watched the fiery little figure <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span>disappear along the +dusty road, and said, 'Truly that lad hath a valiant heart!'</p> + +<p>Thus, in a burning fury of desire, the journey began. After many weary +days of travel the flame still burned unquenchably, although the boy's +figure looked yet leaner and more under-sized than when he left his +home.</p> + +<p>Tramp, tramp, tramp, on and ever on, till at last the long-desired day +came, when, over the crest of a low hill, he made out for the first +time the distant spire and towers of the fair Border city. The river +Eden in the meadows below lay gleaming in the sunshine like a silver +bow.</p> + +<p>Threadbare and very dusty were his clothes, his feet swollen and sore, +but his chin was pressed well forward, and the light in his eyes was +that of a conqueror, when at last, tramp, tramp, tramp, his tired feet +came pattering up the stones of the steep old bridge that spans the +Eden and leads to Carlisle Town.</p> + +<p>'Which is the prison?' James asked himself, as his eyes scanned a +bewildering maze of towers and roofs. The tall leaden spire of the +Cathedral was unmistakable, 'no prisoners there.' Next he made out the +big square fortress of sandstone, red as Red William the Norman who +built it long ago, on its central mound frowning over the town.</p> + +<p>His unknown friend might very possibly be within those walls. James +quickened his tired steps at the thought, and then stopped short, for +the gates of the bridge were shut. Droves of sheep and oxen on their +way to market filled the entry, and all foot passengers must wait. +James threw himself down, full length, on one of the broad stone +parapets of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span>bridge to rest his tired limbs until the way should +be clear again. Two men were seated in a stone recess below him, also +waiting to pass. At first James noticed only the dress they wore; +their tall hats and sombre clothes marked them out as Baptists; the +younger man a deacon probably, and the elder a pastor.</p> + +<p>Presently James began to listen to their conversation.</p> + +<p>'It is well he is safe in the Castle,' said the younger man, 'most +pernicious Quaker doctrine did he deliver that Sabbath day in answer +to our questions in the Abbey.'</p> + +<p>'Pernicious Quaker doctrine!' James pricked up his ears at the words. +He settled himself comfortably to listen, without any scruples, seeing +that the speakers were in a public place, and besides, the entrance to +the bridge was by this time so packed with people that he could hardly +have moved off the parapet had he wished.</p> + +<p>The older man shook his head. 'I thought I had hewed him in pieces +before the Lord,' he said in a low voice, 'for no sooner was he silent +than I asked him if he knew what he spake, and what it was should be +damned at the last day. Whereat he did but fix his eyes upon me and +said that "it was that which spoke in me which should be damned." Even +as he spoke my old notions of religion glittered and fell off me, for +I knew that through him whom I despised as a wandering Quaker I was +listening to the Voice of God. He went on to upbraid me as a flashy +notionist and yet, even so, I was constrained to listen to him in +silence.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span>The pastor's voice had sunk very low: James could hardly catch the +last words.</p> + +<p>'Aye, no wonder,' rejoined the younger man, 'with those eyes he +seemeth to pierce the fleshly veil and to read the secrets of a man's +inmost heart. I, too, experienced this, the following market day, he +being then come to the market cross "a-publishing of truth" as he and +his followers term it, in their quaking jargon. The magistrates, godly +men, had sent the sergeants commanding them to stop his mouth. +Moreover, they had sent their wives as well, and even the sergeants +were less bitter against him than the women. For they declared that if +the Quaker dared to defile the noble market cross of Carlisle city by +preaching there, they themselves would pluck off the hair from his +head, while the sergeants should clap him into gaol. Nevertheless the +Quaker would not be stopped. Preach he did, standing forth boldly on +the high step of the cross.'</p> + +<p>'And what said he?' enquired the older man.</p> + +<p>'Right forcibly he declared judgment on all the market folk for their +deceitful ways. He spoke to the merchants as if he were a merchant +himself, beseeching them to lay aside their false weights and measures +and deceitful merchandize, with all cozening and cheating, and to +speak truth only to one another. Ever as he spoke, the people flocked +closer around him, hanging on his words as if he were reading their +secret hearts, so that the sergeants could not come nigh him for the +press to lead him away. Thus only when he had finished he stepped down +from the cross and would have passed gently away, but I and some of +the brethren, thinking that now our turn had come, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span>followed after +him. The contention between us was sharp. Yet his words struck into me +like knives, and scarce knowing what I did, I cried out aloud, for a +strange power was over me. Thereat he fixed his eyes upon me and spake +sharply to me, as if he knew that I was resisting the Spirit of the +Lord. I know not why, but I was forced to cry out again, "Do not +pierce me so with thine eyes. Keep thine eyes off me."'</p> + +<p>'Well,' questioned the elder man, 'and what followed? Did his eyes +leave thee?'</p> + +<p>'They have never left me,' replied the other. 'Wherever I go those +eyes burn me yet, although the man himself lies fast in gaol among the +thieves and murderers, in the worst and most loathsome of the +dungeons. Thither I go every day to assure myself that he is fast +caged behind thick walls, and to rejoice my eyes with the sight of the +gibbet nailed high over-head upon the castle wall. Men say he shall +swing there soon, but of that I know not. Wilt thou come with me now, +for see, the bridge is free?'</p> + +<p>'Not I,' returned the pastor, moodily, as he shuffled away, like a man +ill at ease with himself.</p> + +<p>Little James, from his perch on the parapet, had drunk in greedily +every word of this conversation. Directly the bridge was clear he +crept down and followed the deacon like a shadow. They passed over the +silver Eden and up the main street of the city, paved with rough, +uneven stones, and with an open sewer flowing through the centre of +it. Right across the busy market-place they passed, before the deacon +halted beneath the castle walls.</p> + +<p>Full of noise and hubbub was Carlisle city that day; yet, as the two +entered the courtyard of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span>castle, James was aware of another +sound, rising clear above the tumult of the town—strains of music, +surely, that came from a fiddle. As they stepped under the inner +gateway and approached the Norman Keep, the fiddler himself came in +sight playing with might and main, under a barred window about six +feet from the ground. By the fiddler's side, urging him on, was a +huge, burly man with a red face. Whenever the fiddler showed signs of +weariness the man beside him raising a large tankard of ale to his +lips would force him to drink of it, saying, 'Play up, man! Play up!'</p> + +<p>The thin, clear strains of the fiddle rose up steadily towards the +barred window, but, above them, James caught another sound that +floated yet more steadily out through the bars: the firm, full tones +of a deep bass voice within, singing loud and strong.</p> + +<p>Though he could not see the singer, something in the song thrilled +James through and through. Forgetting his weariness he knew that he +was near his journey's end at last. As he listened, he noticed a +handful of people, listening also, under the barred window.</p> + +<p>Loud jeers arose: 'Play up, Fiddler!' 'Sing on, Quaker!' or even, 'Ply +him with more ale, Gaoler: the prisoner is the better musician!'</p> + +<p>At these cries the fat man's countenance grew ever more enraged. He +looked savage and huge, 'like a bear-ward,' a man more accustomed to +deal with bears than with human beings. Finally, in his wrath, he +turned the now empty tankard upon the crowd and bespattered them with +the last drops of the ale, and then called lustily for more, with +which he plied the fiddler anew. So the contest continued, but at +last, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span>the ale perhaps taking effect, the fiddler's head dropped, his +bow swept the strings more wearily, while the strong notes inside the +dungeon grew ever more firm and loud. The gaoler seeing, or rather +hearing, himself worsted, caught the bow from the fiddler's hand and +cracked it over his skull. The fiddler, seizing this chance to escape, +leapt to his feet and dashed across the courtyard, followed by the +gaoler and the populace in full chase. Even the sombre Baptist deacon +gathered up the skirts of his long coat and bestirred his lean legs. +The singing ceased. A face appeared at the window: only for an +instant: but one glance was enough for James.</p> + +<p>Timidly he approached the window, but he had only taken two steps +towards it when he found himself firmly elbowed off the pavement and +pushed into the gutter. Someone else also had been watching for the +crowd to disperse, in order to have a chance of speaking with the +prisoner. The new-comer was a portly lady in a satin gown, a much +grander person than James had expected to find in the near +neighbourhood of a dungeon. She carried a large, covered basket, and, +as soon as the way was clear, she set it down on the pavement and +began to take out the contents carefully: bread and salt, beef and +elecampane ale. Without looking up from her work she called to the +unseen figure at the window above her head: 'So thou hast stopped +their vain sounds at length with thy singing?'</p> + +<p>'Aye,' answered the deep voice from within. 'Thou mayest safely +approach the window now, for the gaoler hath departed. After he had +beaten thee and the other Friends with his great cudgel, next he was +moved to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span>beat me also, through the window, did I but come near to it +to get my meat. And as he struck me I was moved to sing in the Lord's +power, and that made him rage the more, whereat he fetched the +fiddler, saying he would soon drown my noise if I would not cease.'</p> + +<p>'Eat now, Dear Heart,' the woman interrupted, 'whilst thou hast the +chance.' So saying, she handed some of the dishes up to the prisoner, +standing herself on tiptoe beneath the prison window in order to reach +his hand stretched out through the bars.</p> + +<p>Here James saw his chance.</p> + +<p>'Madam,' he cried, 'let me hand the meat up to you.'</p> + +<p>The lady looked down and saw the worn, thin face. Perhaps she thought +the boy looked hungry enough to need the food himself, but something +in his eager glance touched her, and when he added, 'For I have come +one hundred and fifty miles to see <span class="fakesc">GEORGE FOX</span>,' her kind +heart was won.</p> + +<p>'Nay, then, thou hast a better right to help him even than I,' she +said, 'though I am his very good friend and Colonel Benson's wife. +Thou shall hand up the dishes to me, and when our friend is satisfied, +thou and I will finish what remains, for in the Lord's power I am +moved to eat no meat at my own house, but to share all my sustenance +with His faithful servant who lies within this noisome gaol.'</p> + +<p>'Madam,' said the boy, speaking with the concentrated intensity of +weeks of suppressed longing, 'for the food, it is no matter, though I +am much beholden to you. I hunger after but one thing. Bring me within +the gaol where I may speak with him face to face. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span>There is that, that +I have come afoot a hundred miles to ask him.</p> + +<p>'Bring me to him, speedily I pray you, for, though even unseen I love +him,</p> + +<p class="cen fakesc">'I MUST SEE GEORGE FOX.'</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span><br /> +<a name="XVIII_THE_FIRST_QUAKER_MARTYR" id="XVIII_THE_FIRST_QUAKER_MARTYR"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>XVIII. THE FIRST QUAKER MARTYR</h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="block"><p class="cen">(<i>From another point of view.</i>)</p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> + +<p class="noin"><i>Extracts from the Diary of the +Rev. Ralph Josselin, Vicar of Earls +Colne, Essex.</i></p> + +<p class="noin"><i>1655.—'Preacht at Gaines Coln, +the Quakers' nest, but no +disturbance. God hath raised up my +heart not to fear but willing to +bear and to make opposition to +their ways, in defence of truth.'</i></p> + +<p class="noin"><i>Ap. 11, 1656.—'Heard this morning +that James Parnell, the father of +the Quakers in these parts, having +undertaken to fast forty days and +forty nights was in the morning +found dead. He was by jury found +guilty of his own death and buried +in the Castle yard.'</i></p> + +<p class="noin"><i>'Heard and true that Turner's +daughter was distract in the +Quaking business.'</i></p> + +<p class="noin"><i>'Sad are the fits at Coxall, like +the pow-wowing among the Indians.'</i></p> + +<p class="noin"><i>1660.—'The Quakers, after a stop +and a silence, seem to be swarming +and increased, and why, Lord thou +only knowest!'</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'So there is no obtaining of Life +but through Death, nor no +obtaining the Crown but through +the Cross.'<span class="fakesc">—JAMES +PARNELL</span>.</i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>XVIII. THE FIRST QUAKER MARTYR</h3> +<br /> + +<p>How Mrs. Benson managed it, there is no record. Perhaps she hardly +knew herself! But she was not a woman to be easily turned aside from +her purpose, and her husband, Colonel Gervase Benson, had been one of +the 'considerable people' in the County before he had turned Quaker +and 'downed those things.' Even after the change, it may be that +prison doors were more easily unlocked by certain little golden and +silver keys in those days, than they are in our own.</p> + +<p>Anyway, somehow or other, the interview was arranged. 'Little James' +found his desire fulfilled at last. When he passed into the stifling, +crowded prison den, where human beings were herded together like +beasts, he never heeded the horrible stench or the crawling vermin +that abounded everywhere. Rather, he felt as if he were entering the +palace of a king. He paid no attention to the crowd of savage figures +all around him. He saw nothing, knew nothing, felt nothing, until at +last he found that his hand was lying in the grasp of a stronger, +firmer hand, that held it, and would not let it go. Then, indeed, for +the first time he looked up, and knew that his long journey was ended, +as he met the penetrating gaze of George Fox.</p> + +<p>'Keep thine eyes off me, they pierce me,' the Baptist Deacon had +cried, a few weeks before, in that same city. As James looked up, he +too felt for the first time the piercing power of those eyes, but to +him it brought no terror, only joy, as he yielded <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span>himself wholly to +his teacher's scrutiny. In silence the two stood, reading each the +other's soul. James felt, instinctively, that his new friend knew and +understood everything that had happened to him, all his life long; +that there was no need to tell him anything, or to explain anything.</p> + +<p>Of an older friendship between two men it was written, 'Thy love to me +was wonderful, passing the love of women.' Thus it proved once more in +that crowded dungeon. No details remain of the interview; no record of +what James said, or what George said. No one else could have reported +what passed between them, and, though each of them has left a mention +of their first meeting, the silence remains unbroken.</p> + +<p>The Journal says merely: 'While I was in ye dungeon at Carlisle, a +little boy, one James Parnell, about fifteen years old, came to me, +and he was convinced and came to be a very fine minister and turned +many to Christ.'</p> + +<p>The boy's own account is shorter still. He does not even mention +George Fox by name. 'I was called for,' he says, 'to visit some +friends in the North part of England, with whom I had union before I +saw their faces, and afterwards I returned to my outward +dwelling-place.'</p> + +<p>His 'outward dwelling-place': the lad's frail body might tramp back +along the weary miles to Retford; his spirit remained in the North, +freely imprisoned with his friend.</p> + +<p>'George' and 'James' were brothers in heart, ever after that short +interview in Carlisle Gaol: united in one inseparable purpose. While +George was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span>confined, James, the free brother, must carry forward +George's work. Triumphantly he did it. By the following year he had +earned his place right well among the 'Valiant Sixty' who were then +sent forth, 'East and West and South and North,' to 'Publish Truth.'</p> + +<p>The Eastern Counties, hitherto almost unbroken ground, fell to James's +share. Assisted by two other 'Valiants,' Richard Hubberthorne and +George Whitehead, the seed was scattered throughout the length and +breadth of East Anglia. Within three short years 'gallant Meetings' +were already gathered and settled everywhere.</p> + +<p>James Parnell was the first Quaker preacher to enter the city of +Colchester, which was soon to rank third among the strongholds of +Quakerism. This boy of eighteen, still so small and delicate in +appearance that his enemies taunted him with the name of 'little +Quaking lad,' has left an account of one of his first crowded days of +work in that city. In the morning, he says, he received any of the +townspeople who were minded to come and ask him questions at his +lodgings. He was a guest, at the time, of a weaver named Thomas +Shortland, who, with his wife Ann, had been convinced shortly before, +by their guest's ministry. In adversity also they were soon to prove +themselves tried and faithful friends.</p> + +<p>Later, that same Sunday morning (4th July 1655), James went down the +High Street to Saint Nicholas' Church, and, when the sermon was ended, +preached to the people in his turn.</p> + +<p>In the afternoon 'he addressed a very great meeting of about a +thousand people, in John Furly's yard, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span>he being mounted above the +crowd and speaking out of a hay-chamber window.' Still later, that +same day, he not only carried on a discussion with 'the town-lecturer +and another priest,' he, the boy of eighteen, but also 'appeared in +the evening at a previously advertised meeting held in the schoolroom +for the children of the French and Flemish weaver refugees in +Colchester, who were being at this time hospitably entertained in John +Furly's house.'<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a></p> + +<p>George Fox says, 'many hundreds of people were convinced by the words +and labours of this young minister.' But, far better than preaching to +other people, he had by this time learned to rule his own spirit. +Once, as he was coming out of the 'Steeple-house of Colchester, called +Nicholas,' one person in particular struck him with a great staff and +said to him, 'Take that for Jesus Christ's sake,' to whom James +Parnell meekly replied, 'Friend, I do receive it for Jesus Christ's +sake.'</p> + +<p>The journey his soul had travelled from the time, only three short +years before, when he had described his neighbours as 'the heathen +round about,' until the day that he could give such an answer was +perhaps a longer one really than all the weary miles he had traversed +between Retford and far Carlisle.</p> + +<p>The two friends, George and James, had one short happy time of service +together, both of them free. After that they parted. Then, all too +soon it was George's turn to visit James, now himself in prison at +Colchester Castle, an even more terrible prison than Carlisle, where +only death could open the doors and set the weary prisoner free. +George's record of his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span>visit to his friend is short and grim. 'As I +went through Colchester,' he says, 'I went to visit James Parnell in +prison, but the cruel gaoler would hardly let us come in or stay with +him, and there the gaoler's wife threatened to have his blood, and +there they did destroy him.'</p> + +<p>An account, written by his Colchester friends, expands the terrible, +glorious tale of his sufferings.</p> + +<p>'The first Messenger of the Lord that appeared in this town to sound +the everlasting Gospel was that eminent Minister and Labourer, James +Parnell, whose first coming to ye town was in ye fourth month (June) +in the year 1655.... Great were the sufferings which this faithful +minister of the Lord underwent, being beat and abused by many.</p> + +<p>'As touching the cause of his sufferings in this his last imprisonment +unto death, which was the fruits of a fast kept at Great Coggeshall +against error (as they said), the 12th day of the fifth month 1655, +where he spoke some words when the priests had done speaking; and when +he was gone out of the high place one followed him, called Justice +Wakering, and clapt him on the back and said he arrested him. And so, +by the means of divers Independent priests and others, he was +committed to this prison at Colchester. And in that prison he was kept +close up, and his friends and acquaintance denied to come at him. Then +at the Assizes he was carried to Chelmsford, about eighteen miles +through the country, as a sport or gazing-stock, locked on a chain +with five accused for felony and murder, and he with three others +remained on the chain day and night. But when he appeared at the Bar, +he was taken off the chain, only had irons on his hands, where he +appeared before Judge Hill ... the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span>first time. But seeing some cried +out against this cruelty, and what shame it would be to let the irons +be seen on him, the next day they took them off, and he appeared +without, where the priests and justices were the accusers. And the +judge gathered what he could out of what they said, to make what he +could against the prisoner to the jury, and urged them to find him +guilty, lest it fall upon their own heads.... And when he would have +spoken truth for himself to inform the jury, the judge would not +permit him thereto. So the judge fined him about twice twenty marks, +or forty pounds, and said the Lord Protector had charged him to see to +punish such persons as should contemn either Magistracy or Ministry. +So he committed him close prisoner till payment, and gave the jailor +charge to let no giddy-headed people come at him; for his friends and +those that would have done him good were called "giddy-headed people," +and so kept out; and such as would abuse him by scorning or beating, +those they let in and set them on. And the jailor's wife would set her +man to beat him, who threatened to knock him down and make him shake +his heels, yea, the jailor's wife did beat him divers times, and swore +she would have his blood, or he should have hers. To which he +answered, "Woman, I would not have thine."'<a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a></p> + +<p>One of James' own letters remains written about this time: 'The day I +came in from the Assize,' he says, 'there was a friend or two with me +in the jaylor's house, and the jaylor's wife sent her man to call me +from them and to put me into a yard, and would not suffer my friends +to come at me. And one friend <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span>brought me water, and they would not +suffer her to come to me, but made her carry it back again.'</p> + +<p>The name of this woman Friend is not given in this letter, but I +daresay we shall not be far wrong if we fill it in for ourselves here, +and think of her as the same Anne Langley, who would not be kept out +of the prison later on. Other people mention her by name. It is only +in little James' own account that her name does not appear. Perhaps +the tie that bound them was something more than friendship, and he did +not wish her to suffer for her love and faith.</p> + +<p>James' letter continues: 'At night they locked me up into a hole with +a condemned man ... and the same day a friend desired the jaylor's +wife that she would let her come and speak with me, and the jaylor's +wife answered her and the other friends who were with her, calling +them "Rogues, witches ... and the devil's dish washers" ... and other +names, and saying "that they had skipped out of hell when the devil +was asleep!" and much more of the same unchristian-like speeches which +is too tedious to relate.... And thus they make a prey upon the +innocent; and when they do let any come to me they would not let them +stay but very little,' (Poor James! the visits were all too short, and +the lonely hours alone all too long for the prisoner) 'and the +jaylor's wife would threaten to pull them down the stairs.... And +swore that she would have my blood several times, and told my friends +so, and that she would mark my face, calling me witch and rogue, shake +hell ... and the like; and because I did reprove her for her +wickedness, the jaylor hath given order that none shall come to me at +any occasion, but only one or two that brings my food.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span>Even this small mercy was not to be allowed much longer. The account +of the Colchester Friend continues: 'And sometimes they would stop any +from bringing him victuals, and set the prisoners to take his victuals +from him; and when he would have had a trundle bed to have kept him +off the stones, they would not suffer friends to bring him one, but +forced him to lie on the stones, which sometimes would run down with +water in a wet season. And when he was in a room for which he paid 4d. +a night, he was threatened, if he did but walk to and fro in it, by +the jaylor's wife. Then they put him in a hole in the wall, very high, +where the ladder was too short by about six foot, and when friends +would have given him a cord and basket to have taken up his victuals, +he was denied thereof and could not be suffered to have it, though it +was much desired, but he must either come up and down by that rope, or +else famish in the hole, which he did a long time, before God suffered +them to see their desires in which time much means was used about it, +but their wills were unalterably set in cruelty towards him. But after +long suffering in this hole, where there was nought but misery as to +the outward man, being no hole either for air or for smoke, being much +benumbed in the naturals, as he was climbing up the ladder with his +victuals in one hand, and coming to the top of the ladder, catching at +the rope with the other hand, missed the rope, and fell a very great +height upon stones, by which fall he was exceedingly wounded in the +head and arms, and his body much bruised, and taken up for dead, but +did recover again that time.</p> + +<p>'Then they put him in a low hole called the oven, and much like an +oven, and some have said who have <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span>been in it that they have seen a +baker's oven much bigger, except for the height of the roof, without +the least airhole or window for smoke and air, nor would they suffer +him to have a little charcoal brought in by friends to prevent the +noisome smoke. Nor would they suffer him, after he was a little +recovered, to take a little air upon the castle wall, which was but +once desired by the prisoner, feeling himself spent for want of +breath. All which he bore with much patience and still kept his +suffering much from friends there, seeing they was much sorrowful to +see it. Yea, others who were no friends were wounded at the sight of +his usage in many other particulars, which we forbear here to mention.</p> + +<p>'And divers came to see him, who heard of his usage from far, not +being friends, had liberty to see him, who was astonished at his +usage, and some of them would say "<span class="fakesc">IF THIS BE THE USAGE OF THE +PROTECTOR'S PRISONERS IT WERE BETTER TO BE ANYBODY'S PRISONERS THAN +HIS</span>," as Justice Barrington's daughter said, who saw their +cruelty to him. And many who came to see him were moved with pity to +the creature, for his sufferings were great.'</p> + +<p>'And although some did offer of their bond of forty pounds [to pay the +fine and so set him at liberty] and one to lie body for body, that he +might come to their house till he was a little recovered, yet they +would not permit it, and it being desired that he might but walk in +the yard, it was answered he should not walk so much as to the castle +door. And the door being once opened, he did but take the freedom to +walk forth in a close, stinking yard before the door, and the gaoler +came in a rage and locked up the hole where he lay, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span>and shut him out +in the yard all night in the coldest time of the winter. So, finding +that nothing but his blood would satisfy them, great application was +made to them in a superior authority but to no purpose. Thus he having +endured about ten months' imprisonment, and having passed through many +trials and exercises, which the Lord enabled him to bear with courage +and faithfulness, he laid down his head in peace and died a prisoner +and faithful Martyr for the sake of the Truth, under the hands of a +persecuting generation in the year 1656.'<a name="FNanchor_30_30" id="FNanchor_30_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a></p> + +<p>It was his former host, Thomas Shortland the weaver, who had offered +to lie 'body for body' in prison, if only James might be allowed to +return to his house and be nursed back to health again there. After +the boy's death this kind man wrote as follows:</p> + +<p>'Dear Friend—In answer to thine, is this, James Parnell being dead, +the Coroner sent an officer for me, and one Anne Langley, a friend, +who both of us watched with him that night that he departed. And +coming to him [the Coroner] he said, "that it was usual when any died +in prison, to have a jury got on them," and James being dead, and he +hearing we two watched with him, he sent for us to hear what we could +say concerning his death, whether he died on his fair death [<i>i.e.</i> a +natural death] or whether he were guilty of his own death.... He asked +whether he had his senses and how he behaved himself late-ward toward +his departure. I answered that he had his senses and that he spake +sensibly, and to as good understanding as he used to do. He then +enquired what words he spoke. To which Anne Langley <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span>answered that she +heard him say, "<span class="fakesc">HERE I DIE INNOCENTLY</span>," and she said that +she had been at the departing of many, but never was where was such +sweet departing; and at his departing his last words were, "<span class="fakesc">NOW I +MUST GO</span>," and turned his head to me and said, "<span class="fakesc">THOMAS, THIS +DEATH I MUST DIE</span>," and further said, "<span class="fakesc">O THOMAS, I HAVE SEEN +GREAT THINGS</span>," and bade me that I should not hold him, but let +him go, and said it over again, "<span class="fakesc">WILL YOU NOT HOLD ME?</span>" And +then said Anne, "Dear Heart, we will not hold thee." And he said, +"<span class="fakesc">NOW I GO</span>," and stretched out himself, and fell into a +sweet sleep and slept about an hour (as he often said, that one hour's +sleep would cure him of all), and so drew breath no more.'</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p>Little James was free at last. He had left his frail, weary body +behind and had departed on the longest, shortest journey of all. A +journey this, ending in no noisome den in Carlisle Castle, as when he +first saw the earthly teacher he had loved so long, but leading +straight and swift to the heavenly abiding-places: to the welcome of +his unseen yet Everlasting Friend.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0a">'How know I that it looms lovely, that land I have never seen,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With morning-glory and heartsease, and unexampled green?<br /></span> +<span class="i0a">All souls singing, seeing, rejoicing everywhere,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yea, much more than this I know, for I know that Christ is there.'<a name="FNanchor_31_31" id="FNanchor_31_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_31_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<br /> +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<br /> + +<h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> <i>James Parnell</i>, by C. Fell Smith.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> 'Lamb's Defence against Lyes.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_30_30" id="Footnote_30_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> <i>First Publishers of Truth</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_31_31" id="Footnote_31_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> Christina Rossetti.</p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span><br /> +<a name="XIX_THE_CHILDREN_OF_READING_MEETING" id="XIX_THE_CHILDREN_OF_READING_MEETING"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>XIX. THE CHILDREN OF READING MEETING<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'And all must be meeke, sober and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> +jentell and quiet and loving, and +not give one another bad word noe +time in the skouell, nor out of it +... all is to mind their lessons +and be digelent in their +rightings, and to lay up their +boukes when they go from the +skouell and ther pens and +inkonerns and to keep them sow, +else they must be louk'd upon as +carles and slovenes; and soe you +must keep all things clean, suet +and neat and hanson.'<span class="fakesc">—G. +FOX</span>. Advice to +Schoolmasters.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Dear and tender little Babes, as +well as strong men, ... let not +anything straiten you, when God +moves: And thou, faithful Babe, +though thou stutter and stammer +forth a few words in the dread of +the Lord, they are accepted, and +all that are strong, serve the +weak in strengthening them and +wait in wisdom to give place to +the motion of the Spirit in them, +that it may have time to bring +forth what God hath given ... that +... you maybe a well spring of +Life to one another in the power +of the endless love of +God.'<span class="fakesc">—W. DEWSBURY</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'When the Justices threatened +Friend John Boult and told him +that he and other Reading Friends +should be sent to prison, he +replied: "That's the weakest thing +thou canst do. If thou canst +convince me of anything that is +evil, I will hear thee and let the +prisons alone."'<span class="fakesc">—W.C. +BRAITHWAITE</span>.</i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>XIX. THE CHILDREN OF READING MEETING</h3> +<br /> + +<p>It was a most uncomfortable First Day morning. The children looked at +each other and wondered what would happen next, as they stood in the +small bedroom under the thatched roof. Dorcas, the eldest, already +half dressed, held Baby Stephen in her arms; but the twins, Tryphena +and Tryphosa, were running about the floor with bare feet and only +their petticoats on, strings and tapes all flying loose. Baby was +crying, whilst the Twins shouted with mischievous glee. Something must +be done. So Dorcas seated herself in a big chair and tried to dress +Baby. But Baby was hungry. He wanted his breakfast and he did not at +all want to be dressed! Oh, if only Mother was here! Where was Mother +all this long time? Had she and Father really been taken to prison? +Dorcas felt heart-sick at the thought. Happily the Twins and Baby were +too little to understand. She herself was nearly ten and therefore +almost grown up. She understood now all about it quite well. This was +what Mother had meant when she bent down to kiss her little girl in +bed last night, saying that she was going out to a Meeting at Friend +Curtis' house, hoping to be back in an hour or two. 'But if not'—here +Dorcas remembered that Mother's eyes had filled with tears. She had +left the sentence unfinished, adding only: 'Anyway, I know I can trust +thee, Dorcas, to be a little mother to the little ones while I am +away.' 'But if not....' Dorcas had been too sleepy last night to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span>think what the words meant, or to keep awake until Mother's return. It +seemed as if she had only just closed her eyes for a minute or two; +and yet, when she opened them again, the bright morning sunlight was +filling the room.</p> + +<p>'But if not....' After all, there had been no need for Mother to +finish the sentence. Now that Dorcas was wide awake she could complete +it for herself only too well. For Dorcas knew that at any moment a +Meeting of five or more persons who met to practise a form of worship +not authorized by law might be rudely interrupted by the constables, +and all the Friends who were sitting in silence together dragged off +to prison for disobeying the Quaker Act. Since that Act had been +passed in this same month of May 1662, Quaker children understood that +this might happen at any moment, but of course each child hoped that +it would not happen just yet, or at least not to his own Father and +Mother. But now apparently it had happened here in peaceful Reading +beside the broad Thames.</p> + +<p>Last night's Meeting had been fixed at an unusually late hour. For, as +the late Spring evenings were lengthening, the Reading Quakers had +wished to take advantage of the long May twilight to gather together +and meet with a Friend, one of the Valiant Sixty, who had come in for +a few hours unexpectedly on his way to London. So the children had +fallen asleep as usual, fully expecting to find their parents beside +them when they woke. But now the empty places and the unslept-in beds +told their own tale.</p> + +<p>'Be a mother to the little ones, Dorcas,' Mother had said. Well, +Dorcas was trying her very best, but <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span>it was not easy. Baby had many +strings to tie and many buttons to fasten, and just as she was getting +the very last button safely into its button-hole the Twins came +running up to say that they had got into each other's clothes by +mistake and could not get out of them again. This was serious; for +though Phenie's frock was only a little too big for Phosie, Phosie's +frock was much too small for Phenie.</p> + +<p>Dorcas was obliged to put Baby down to attend to them; but this +reminded Baby that he had still not been provided with his +much-desired breakfast, whereupon he began to howl, till Dorcas took +him up in her arms again, and dandled him as Mother did. This made him +crow for happiness, just as he did when Mother took him, so for a few +minutes Dorcas was happy too, till she saw that the Twins were now +beginning to squabble again, and to tear out each other's hair with +the comb. At that unlucky moment up came brother Peter's big voice +calling from below, 'Dorcas, Dorcas, what are you all doing up there? +Why is not breakfast ready? I have milked the cow for you. You must +come down this very minute; I am starving!'</p> + +<p>It was an uncomfortable morning; and the worst of it was that it was +First Day morning too. Dorcas had not known before that a First Day +morning could be uncomfortable. Usually First Day was the happiest day +in the whole week. Mother's hands were so gentle that, though the +children had been taught to help themselves as soon as they were old +enough, still Mother always seemed to know just when there was an +unruly button that needed a little coaxing to help it to find its +hole, or a string that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span>wanted to get into a knot that ought to be +persuaded to tie itself into a bow.</p> + +<p>Then breakfast was always a pleasant meal, with the big blue bowls +full of milk, warm from the cow, set out on the wooden table, and +Father sitting at one end raising his hand as he said a silent Grace. +Father never said any words at these times. But he bent his head as if +he were thanking Someone he loved very much, Someone close beside him, +for giving him the milk and bread to give to the children and for +making him very happy. So the children felt happy too. Dorcas thought +that the brown bread always tasted especially good on First Day +morning, because Father was at the head of the table to cut it and +hand it to them himself. On other, week-day, mornings he had to go off +much earlier, ploughing, or reaping, or gathering in the ripe corn +from the harvest-fields behind the farm. Also, Peter never teased the +little ones when Father was there. But to-day if there were no +breakfast, (and where was breakfast to come from?) Peter would be +dreadfully cross. Yet how could Dorcas go and get breakfast for Peter +when the three little ones were all wanting her help at once?</p> + +<p>'I'm coming, Peter, as fast as ever I can,' she called back, in answer +to a second yet more peremptory summons. But, oh! how glad she was to +hear a gentle knock at the door of the thatched cottage a minute or +two later.</p> + +<p>'Come in! come in!' she heard Peter saying joyfully as he opened the +door, and then came the sound of light footsteps on the wooden stairs. +Another minute, and the bedroom door opened gently, and a sunshiny +face looked into the children's untidy room.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span>'Why, it is thee, Hester!' Dorcas exclaimed, with a cry of joy. 'Oh, I +am glad to see thee! And how glad Mother would be to know thou wert +here.'</p> + +<p>The girl who entered was both taller and older than Dorcas. She was a +well-loved playfellow evidently, for Tryphena and Tryphosa toddled +towards her across the room at once, to be caught up in her arms and +kissed.</p> + +<p>'Of course, it is I, Dorcas,' she answered promptly. 'Who else should +it be? Prudence and I determined that we would come over and try to +help thee as soon as we could. We brought a basket of provisions too, +in case you were short. Prudence is helping Peter to set out breakfast +in the kitchen now, so we must hasten.'</p> + +<p>Life often becomes easy when you are two, however difficult it may +have been when you were only one! With Hester to help, the dressing +was finished at lightning speed. Yet, when the children came down to +the kitchen, Prudence and Peter already had the fire blazing away +merrily; the warm milk was foaming in the bowls. The hungry children +thought, as they drank it up, that never before had breakfast tasted +so good.</p> + +<p>'Hester, what made thee think of coming?' Dorcas asked a little later, +when, Baby's imperious needs being satisfied, she was able to begin +her own breakfast, while he drummed an accompaniment on the back of +her hand with a wooden spoon. 'How did the news reach thee? Or have +they taken thy Father and Mother away too? Have all the Friends gone +to gaol this time?'</p> + +<p>Hester nodded. Her bright face clouded for a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span>moment or two. Then she +resolutely brushed the cloud away.</p> + +<p>'Yea, in truth, Dorcas,' she answered. 'I fear much that only we +children are left. Anyhow, thy parents and mine are taken, and the +others as well most like. My Father had warning from a trusty source +that he and other Friends had best not meet in Thomas Curtis' house +last night. But he is never one to be turned aside from his purpose, +thou knows. So he took me between his knees and said, "Hester, dear +maid, thy mother and I must go. 'Tis none of our choosing. If we are +taken, fear not for us, nor for thyself and Prue. Only seek to nourish +and care for the tender babes in the other houses, whence Friends are +likely to be taken also." Therefore I hastened hither to help thee, +Dorcas, bringing Prudence with me, partly because I love thee, and +thou art mine own dear friend, but also because it was my Father's +command. If I can be of service to thee, perhaps he will pat my head +when he returns out of gaol and say, as he doth sometimes, "I knew I +could trust thee, my Hester."'</p> + +<p>'Will they be long in prison, dost thou think?' asked Dorcas, with a +tremor in her voice. She was always an anxious-minded little girl, and +inclined to look on the gloomy side of things, whereas Hester was +sunshine itself.</p> + +<p>'Who can say?' answered Hester, and again even her bright face +clouded. 'The Justices are sure to tender to them the oath, but since +they follow Him who commanded, "Swear not at all," how can they take +it?'</p> + +<p>'Then, if they refuse, they will be said to be out <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span>of the King's +protection, and the Justices and the gaolers may do with them as they +will,' added Peter doggedly.</p> + +<p>At these words Hester, seeing that Dorcas looked very sorrowful and +almost ready to cry, checked Peter suddenly, and said, 'At any rate, +we can but hope for the best. And now we must hasten, or we shall be +late for Meeting.'</p> + +<p>'Meeting?' Dorcas looked up in surprise. 'I thought thou saidst that +all the Friends had been taken.'</p> + +<p>'All the men and women, yes,' answered Hester; 'but we children are +left. We know what our Fathers and Mothers would have us do.'</p> + +<p>Here Peter broke in, 'Yes, of course, Dorcas, we must go to show them +that Friends are not cowards, and that we will keep up our Meetings +come what may. Dost thou not mind what friend Thomas Curtis' wife, +Mistress Nan, has often told us of her father, the Sheriff of Bristol? +How he was hung before his own door, because men said he was +endeavouring to betray the city to Prince Rupert, and thus serve his +king in banishment. Shall we be less loyal than he?'</p> + +<p>'Loyal to our King, Dorcas,' added Hester gently.</p> + +<p>Dorcas hesitated no longer.</p> + +<p>'Thou art right, Hester,' she answered, 'and Peter, thou art right +too. We will go all together. I had forgotten. Of course children as +well as grown-up people can wait upon God.'</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p>The children arrived at the Friends' usual meeting place, only to find +it locked and strongly guarded. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span>They went on, undismayed, to Friend +Lamboll's orchard, but, there also, two heavy padlocks, sealed with +the King's seal, were upon the green gate. An old goody from a cottage +hard by waved them away. 'Be off, children! Here is no place for you,' +she said; adding not unkindly, 'your parents were taken near here +yester eve, and the officers of the law are still prowling round. This +orchard is sure to be one of the first places they will visit.'</p> + +<p>Then seeing the tired look on Dorcas' face, as she turned to go, with +heavy Stephen in her arms: 'Here, give the babe to me,' she said, +'I'll care for him this forenoon. Thy mother managed to get a word +with me last night as the officers dragged her away, and I promised +her I would do what I could to help you, though you be Quakers and I +hold to the Church. See, he'll be safe in this cradle while you go and +play, though it is forty years and more since it held a babe of my +own.'</p> + +<p>Very thankfully Dorcas laid Stephen, now sleeping peacefully, down in +the oaken cradle in the old woman's flagged kitchen. Then she ran off +to join the others assembled at a little distance from the orchard +gate. By this time a few more children had joined them: two or three +girls, and four or five older boys.</p> + +<p>Where were they to meet? The sight of the closed house, and the sealed +gate, even the mention of the officers of the law, far from +frightening the children, had only made them more than ever clear +that, somewhere or other, the Meeting must be held.</p> + +<p>At length one of the elder boys suggested 'My father's granary?' The +very place!—they all agreed: so thither the little flock of children +trooped. The <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span>granary was a large building of grey stone lighted only +by two mullioned windows high up in the walls. In Queen Elizabeth's +days these windows had lighted the small rooms of an upper storey, but +now the dividing floor had been removed to make more room for the +grain which lay piled up as high as the roof over more than half the +building. But, at one end, there was an empty space on the floor, and +here the children seated themselves on scattered bundles of hay.</p> + +<p>Quietly Meeting began. At first some of the children peeped up at one +another anxiously under their eyelids. It felt very strange somehow to +be gathering together in silence alone without any grown-up people. +Were they really doing right? Dorcas' heart began to beat rather +nervously, and a hot flush dyed her cheek, until she looked across at +Hester sitting opposite, and was calmed by the peaceful expression of +the elder girl's face. Hester's hood had fallen back upon her +shoulders. Her fair hair, slightly ruffled, shone like a halo of pale +gold against the grey stone wall of the granary. Her blue eyes were +looking up, up at the blue sky, far away beyond the high window.</p> + +<p>'Hester looks happy, almost as if she were listening to something,' +Dorcas said to herself, 'something that comforts her although we are +all sad.' Then, settling herself cosily down into the hay, 'Now I will +try to listen for comfort too.'</p> + +<p>A few moments later the silence was broken by a half-whispered prayer +from a dark corner of the granary, 'Our dear, dear parents! help them +to be brave and faithful, and make us all brave and faithful too.'</p> + +<p>None of the boys and girls looked round to see <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span>who had spoken, for +the words seemed to come from the deepest place in their own hearts.</p> + +<p>Swiftly and speedily the children's prayer was answered. Help was +given to them, but they needed every scrap of their courage and faith +during the next half-hour. Almost before the last words of the prayer +died away, a loud noise was heard and the tramp of heavy feet coming +round the granary wall. The officers of the law were upon them: 'What, +yet another conventicle of these pestilential heretics to be broken +up?' shouted a wrathful voice. The next moment the door was roughly +burst open, and in the doorway appeared a much dreaded figure, no less +a person than Sir William Armorer himself, Justice of the Peace and +Equerry to the King. None of the children had any very clear idea as +to the meaning of that word 'equerry'; therefore it always filled them +with a vague terror of unknown possibilities. In after years, whenever +they heard it they saw again an angry man with a florid face, dressed +in a suit of apple-green satin slashed with gold, standing in a +doorway and wrathfully shaking a loaded cane over their heads.</p> + +<p>'Yet more of ye itching to be laid by the ears in gaol!' shouted this +apparition as he entered and slammed the heavy wooden door behind him. +But an expression of amazement followed when he was once inside the +room.</p> + +<p>'Brats! By my life! Quaker brats! and none beside them!' he exclaimed +astonished, as he looked round the band of children. 'Quaker brats +holding a conventicle of their own, as if they were grown men and +women! Having stopped the earth and gaoled the fox, must we now deal +with the litter? Look you <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span>here, do you want a closer acquaintance +with this?'</p> + +<p>With these words, he pointed his loaded stick at each of the children +in turn and drew out a sharp iron point concealed in one end of it, +and began to slash the air. Then, changing his mind again, he went +back to the door and called out to his followers in the passage +outside, 'Here, men, we will let the maidens go, but you must teach +these lads what it is to disobey the law, or I'm no Justice of His +Majesty's Peace.'</p> + +<p>Even in that moment of terror the children wondered not only at the +loud angry voice but at the unfamiliar scent that filled the room. The +air, which had been pure and fragrant with the smell of hay, was now +heavy and loaded with essences and perfumes. Well it might be, for +though the children knew it not, the flowing lovelocks of the curly +wig that descended to the Justice's shoulders had been scented that +very morning with odours of ambergris, musk, and violet, orris root, +orange flowers, and jessamine, as well as others besides. The stronger +scents of kennel and stable, and even of ale and beer, that filled the +room as the constables trooped into it were almost a relief to the +children, because they at least were familiar, and unlike the other +strange, sickly fragrance.</p> + +<p>The constables seized the boys, turned them out into the road, and +there punched and beat them with their own staffs and the Justice's +loaded stick until they were black in the face. The girls were driven +in a frightened bunch down the lane. Only Hester sat on in her place, +still and unmoved, sheltering the Twins in her bosom and holding her +hands over their eyes. Up to her came the angry Justice in a fine +rage, until <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span>it seemed as if the perfumed wig must almost touch her +smooth plaits of hair. Then, at last, Hester moved, but not in time to +prevent the Justice seizing her by the shoulder and flinging her down +the road after the others. Her frightened charges, torn from her arms, +still clung to her skirts, while the full-grown men strode along after +them, threatening to duck them all in the pond if they made the +slightest resistance, and did not at once disperse to their homes.</p> + +<p>It certainly was neither a comfortable thing nor a pleasant thing to +be a Quaker child in those stormy days.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, pleasant or unpleasant, comfortable or uncomfortable, +made no difference. It was thanks to the courage of this handful of +boys and girls that, in spite of the worst that Mr. Justice Armorer +could do, in spite of the dread of him and his constables, in spite of +his angry face, of his scented wig and loaded cane, in spite of all +these things,—still, Sunday after Sunday, through many a long anxious +month, God was worshipped in freedom and simplicity in the town by +silver Thames. Reading Meeting was held.</p> + +<p>Meantime, throughout these same long months, within the prison walls +the fathers and mothers prayed for their absent children. Although +apart from one another, the two companies were not really separated; +for both were listening to the same Shepherd's voice. Until, at last, +the happy day came when the gaol-doors were opened and the prisoners +released. Then, oh the kissing and the hugging! the crying and the +blessing! as the parents heard of all the children had undergone in +order to keep faithful and true! That was indeed the most joyful +meeting of all!</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span>Thankfulness and joy last freshly through the centuries, as an old +letter, written at that time by one of the fathers to George Fox still +proves to us to-day: 'Our little children kept the meetings up, when +we were all in prison, notwithstanding that wicked Justice when he +came and found them there, with a staff that had a spear in it would +pull them out of the Meeting, and punch them in the back till some of +them were black in the face ... his fellow is not, I believe, to be +found in all England a Justice of the Peace.'</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p>'For they might as well think to hinder the Sun from shining, or the +tide from flowing, as to think to hinder the Lord's people from +meeting to wait upon Him.'</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span><br /> +<a name="XX_THE_SADDEST_STORY_OF_ALL" id="XX_THE_SADDEST_STORY_OF_ALL"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>XX. THE SADDEST STORY OF ALL</h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Take heed of forward minds, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span> +of running out before your guide, +for that leads out into looseness; +and such plead for liberty, and +run out in their wills and bring +dishonour to the Lord.'...</i></p> + +<p class="noin"><i>'And take heed if under a pretence +of Liberty you do not ... set up +that both in yourselves and on +others that will be hard to get +down again.'<span class="fakesc">—G. FOX</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'The Truth in this city spreads +and flourisheth; many large +meetings we have, and great ones +of the world come to them, and are +much tendered. James is fitted for +this great place, and a great love +is begotten towards him'<span class="fakesc">—A. +Parker</span> to M. Fell, 1655 +(from London, before Nayler's +fall).</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'His forebearing in due time to +testify against the folly of those +his followers (who magnified him) +was his great weakness and loss of +judgment, and brought the greatest +suffering upon him, Poor Man! +Though when he was delivered out +of the snare, he did condemn all +their wild and mad actions towards +him and judged himself also. +Howbeit our adversaries and +persecutors unjustly took occasion +thereupon, to triumph and insult, +and to reproach and roar against +Quakers, though as a People (they +were) wholly unconcerned and clear +from those offences.'<span class="fakesc">—G. +Whitehead</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'And so His will is my +peace.'<span class="fakesc">—JAMES NAYLER</span>.</i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>XX. THE SADDEST STORY OF ALL</h3> +<br /> + +<h4>BUT IT HAS A HAPPY END</h4> + + +<p>Children—come close. Let us hold hands and gather round the fire. +This story must be told in the twilight, while the room is all dark +except for the dim glow of the coals. Then, if a few tears do run down +our cheeks—no one will see them. And presently the lamp will come in, +the darkness will vanish, and the story will end happily—as most +stories do if we could only carry them on far enough. What makes the +sadness to us, often, is that we only see such a little bit of the +way.</p> + +<p>This is the story of a man who made terrible mistakes, and suffered a +terrible punishment. But, through his sufferings, and perhaps even +through the great mistakes he made, he learned some lessons that he +might never have learned in any other way. His name was James Nayler. +He was born in 1616, and was the son of a well-to-do farmer in +Yorkshire. He was 'educated in good English,' and learned to write and +speak well. His early life seems to have been uneventful. At the age +of 22 he married, and settled near Wakefield with his young wife, +Anne. After a few years of happy married life, the long dispute +between King Charles and his Parliament finally broke out into Civil +War. The old peaceful life of the countryside was at an end. +Everywhere men were called upon to take sides and to arm. James Nayler +was one of the first to answer that call. He enlisted in the +Parliamentary Army under Lord Fairfax, and spent <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span>the next nine or ten +years as a soldier. Under General Lambert he rose to be quartermaster, +and the prospect of attaining still higher military rank was before +him when his health broke down and he was obliged to return home.</p> + +<p>A little later he made a friend. One eventful Sunday in 1652 'the Man +in Leather Breeches' visited Wakefield, and came to the +'Steeple-house' where Nayler had been accustomed to worship with his +family. Directly the sermon was finished, all the people in the church +pointed at the Stranger, and called him to come up to the priest. Fox +rose, as his custom was, and began to 'declare the word of life.' He +went on to say that he thought the priest who had been preaching had +been deceiving his hearers in some parts of his sermon. Naturally the +priest who had spoken did not like this, and although some of the +congregation agreed with Fox, and felt that 'they could have listened +to him for ever,' most of the people hated the Stranger for his words. +They rushed at Fox, punching and beating him; then, crying, 'Let us +have him in the stocks!' they thrust him out of the door of the +church. Once in the cool fresh air, however, the crowd became less +violent. Their mood changed. Instead of hustling their unresisting +visitor through the town and clapping him into the stocks, they loosed +their hold of him and suffered him to go quietly away.</p> + +<p>As he departed, George Fox came upon another group of people assembled +at a little distance. These were the men and women who had listened to +him gladly in church, who now wished to hear more of the new truths he +had been declaring. Among them was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span>James Nayler, a man older than +Fox, who had been convinced by him a year earlier. This second visit, +however, clinched Nayler's allegiance to his new friend. Possibly, +having been a soldier himself, he began by admiring Fox's courage. +Here was a man who refused to strike a single blow in self-defence. He +was apparently quite ready to let the angry mob do what they would, +and yet in the end he managed to quell their rage by the force of his +own spiritual power. The Journal simply says that a great many people +were convinced that day of the truth of the Quaker preaching, and that +'they were directed to the Lord's teaching <i>in themselves</i>.'</p> + +<p>Hereupon the priest of the church became very angry. He spread abroad +many untrue stories about Fox, saying that he 'carried bottles with +him, and made people drink of them and so made them follow him and +become Quakers.'</p> + +<p>At Wakefield, also, in those days, as well as farther North, +'enchantment' was the first and simplest explanation of anything +unusual. This same priest also said that Fox rode upon a great black +horse, and was seen riding upon it in one county at a certain time, +and was also seen on the same horse and at the very same time in +another county sixty miles away.</p> + +<p>'With these lies,' says Fox, 'he fed his people, to make them think +evil of the truth which I had declared amongst them. But by those lies +he preached many of his hearers away from him, for I was travelling on +foot and had no horse; which the people generally knew.'</p> + +<p>James Nayler at any rate decided to become one of Fox's followers, and +let the priest do his worst. It <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span>may have been at his house that +George Fox lodged that night, thankful for its shelter, having slept +under a hedge the night before. When Fox left, Nayler did not go with +him, but remained quietly at home. Having been a farmer's son before +he became a soldier, he quietly returned to his farming when he left +the army. One day in early spring, a few months after Fox's visit, as +James Nayler was driving the plough and thinking of the things of God, +he heard a Voice calling to him through the silence, telling him to +leave his home and his relations, for God would be with him. At first +James Nayler rejoiced exceedingly because he had heard the Voice of +God, but when he considered how much he would have to give up if he +left home, he tried to put the command aside. Nothing that he +undertook prospered with him after this; he fell ill and nearly died, +till at last he was made willing to surrender his own will utterly and +go out, ready to do God's will, day by day and hour by hour, as it +should be revealed to him. 'And so he continued, not knowing one day +what he was to do the next; and the promise of God that He would be +with him, he found made good to him every day.' These are his own +words. His inward guidance led him into the west of England, and there +he found George Fox.</p> + +<p>After this Nayler and Fox were often together. Sometimes Nayler would +take a long journey to see Fox when he was staying with his dear +friends at Swarthmoor. Sometimes they wrote beautiful letters to each +other. Here is one from Nayler to Fox that might have been written to +us to-day:</p> + +<p>'Dear hearts, you make your own troubles by <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span>being unwilling and +disobedient to that which would lead you safe. There is no way but to +go hand in hand with Him in all things, running after Him without fear +or considering, leaving the whole work only to Him. If He seem to +smile, follow Him in fear and love, and if He seem to frown, follow +Him and fall into His will, and you shall see He is yours still,—for +He will prove His own.'</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep306" id="imagep306"></a> +<a href="images/imagep306.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep306.jpg" width="90%" alt="THE VOICE OF THE SILENCE" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">'THE VOICE OF THE SILENCE'<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>Nayler's adventurous journey with Fox to Walney Island must have drawn +their friendship closer than ever. In spite of hardships these were +happy days as they went about the country together on God's errands. +But these days came to an end.</p> + +<p>You see, Nayler had not found his faith after a long struggle as +George Fox had done. Perhaps he had accepted it a little too easily, +and too confidently, in his own strength. He was a splendid, brilliant +preacher, and he loved arguing for his new belief in public. Once, in +Derbyshire, in an argument with some ministers, he got so much the +best of it that the crowd was delighted and cried out, 'A Nailer, a +Nailer hath confuted them all.'</p> + +<p>Another time, when he was attending a meeting at a Friend's house, he +says that 'hundreds of vain people continued all the while throwing +great stones in at the window, but we were kept in great peace +within.' It would be rather difficult to sit quite still and 'think +meeting thoughts' with large stones flying through the windows, would +it not?</p> + +<p>Once, when I was at a service on board ship, a few years ago, a +tremendous wave broke through the port-hole and splashed the kneeling +men and women on that side of the saloon. They were so startled that +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span>nearly all of them jumped, and one called out quite loudly, 'Oh, +what's that?' But the clergyman went on quietly reading the service, +and very soon everything became still and quiet again.</p> + +<p>James Nayler also continued to give his message of stillness and calm, +and the gathered people, listening to him intently, forgot to think +about the stones. He must have had a great deal of that strange +quality that we call magnetism. Just as a magnet attracts bits of iron +to it, so some people have the power of attracting others to listen to +them and love them. Fox was the most powerful magnet of all the Quaker +preachers. He attracted people in thousands all over the country. But +Nayler seems to have had a great deal of magnetism too, though it was +of a different kind. For one thing he was handsomer to look at than +Fox. He is described as 'of ruddy complexion and medium height, with +long, low hanging brown hair, oval face, and nose that rose a little +in the middle: he wore a small band close to his collar, but no band +strings, and a hat that hung over his brows.'</p> + +<p>But it would have been happier for him if he had not been so +good-looking, as you will see presently. He must have had much charm +of manner, too. A court lady, Abigail, Lady Darcy, invited him to her +house to preach, and there, beside all the people who had assembled to +hear him, many other much grander listeners were also present although +unseen, 'lords, ladies, officers, and ministers.'</p> + +<p>These great people, not wishing it to be known that they came to +listen to the Quaker preacher, were hidden away behind a ceiling. +Nayler himself must <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span>have known of their presence, since he mentions +it in a letter, though he does not explain how a ceiling could be a +hiding-place. He spoke to them afterwards of the Voice that had called +him as he was ploughing in the fields at home. These fine lords and +ladies could not understand what he meant. 'A Voice, a Voice?' they +asked him, 'but did you really hear it?' 'Aye, verily, I did hear it,' +he replied in such solemn tones that they wondered more than ever what +he meant; and perhaps they began to listen too for the Inner Voice.</p> + +<p>The discovery that he, a humble Quaker preacher, could attract all +this attention did James Nayler harm. Instead of remembering only the +thankfulness and joy of being entrusted with his Master's message, he +allowed small, lower feelings to creep into his heart: 'What a good +messenger I am! Don't I preach well? Far grander people throng to hear +me than to any other Quaker minister's sermons!'</p> + +<p>Another temptation came to him through his good looks. He was +evidently getting to think altogether too much about himself. It was +James Nayler this and James Nayler that, far too much about James +Nayler. Also, some of his friends were foolish, and did not help him. +The interesting thing about James Nayler is that his chief temptations +always came to him through his good qualities. If he had been a little +duller, or a little uglier, or a little stupider, if he had even made +fewer friends, he might have walked safely all his life. As it was, +instead of listening only to the Voice of God, he allowed himself to +listen to one of the most dangerous suggestions of the Tempter. Nayler +began to think that he might imitate Jesus Christ not only in inner +ways, not only by trying to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span>be meek and loving and gentle and +self-sacrificing, as He was to all the people around Him. That is the +way we may all try to be like Him. Nayler also tried to imitate Him in +outer ways. He found a portrait of the Saviour and noticed how He was +supposed to have worn His hair and beard; and then he arranged his own +hair and beard in the same way. He even attempted to work miracles +like those in the Gospel story. He tried to fast as Christ had done, +'He ate no bread but one little bit for a whole month, and there was +about a fortnight ... he took no manner of food, but some days a pint +of white wine, and some days a gill mingled with water.' This was when +he was imprisoned in Exeter Gaol with many other Quakers. One woman +among them fainted and became unconscious, and she believed she had +been brought back to life by Nayler's laying his hand on her head and +saying, 'Dorcas, arise.'</p> + +<p>Some of his friends and the other women in the prison were foolish and +silly. Instead of helping Nayler to serve God in lowliness and +humility, they flattered his vanity, and encouraged him to become yet +more vain and presumptuous. They even knelt before him in the prison, +bowing and singing, 'Holy, holy, holy.' Some one wrote him a wicked +letter saying, 'Thy name shall be no more James Nayler, but Jesus'!</p> + +<p>Nayler confessed afterwards that 'a fear struck him' when he received +that letter. He put it in his pocket, meaning that no one should see +it. But though Nayler did not himself encourage his friends in their +wicked folly, still he did not check them as he should have done. He +thought that he was meant to be a 'sign of Christ' for the world. He +was weak in health at <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span>the time, and had suffered much from +imprisonment and long fasting; so it can be said in excuse that his +mind may have been clouded, and that perhaps he did not altogether +understand what was being done.</p> + +<p>The real sadness of this story is that we cannot excuse him +altogether. Some of the blame for the silly and foolish and wicked +things that were done around him does, and must, belong to him too. He +ought to have known and to have forbidden it all from the beginning. +George Fox and the other steady Friends of course did not approve of +these wild doings of James Nayler and his friends. George Fox came to +see James Nayler in prison at Exeter, and reproved him for his errors. +James Nayler was proud and would not listen to rebukes, though he +offered to kiss George Fox at parting. But Fox, who was 'stiff as a +tree and pure as a bell,' would not kiss any man, however much he +loved him, who persisted in such wrong notions. The two friends parted +very sorrowfully, and with a sad heart Fox returned to the inn on +Exeter Bridge. Not all the 'Seven Stars' on its signboard could shine +through this cloud.</p> + +<p>After this, things grew worse. Nayler persisted in his idea that he +was meant, in his own life, and in his own body, to imitate Jesus +Christ outwardly, and the women persisted in their wild acting round +him. When Nayler and his admirers came to Bristol, in October 1656, +they arranged a sort of play scene, to make it like the entry of Jesus +into Jerusalem. One man, bareheaded, led Nayler's horse, and the women +spread scarves and handkerchiefs in the way before him, as they had no +palms. They even shouted 'Hosanna!' and other songs and hymns that +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span>they had no business to sing except in the worship of God.</p> + +<p>They meant it to be all very brilliant and triumphant. But it was +really a miserable sort of affair, for the rain came down heavily, and +the roads were muddy and dirty, which made the whole company wet and +draggled. Still it was not the rain that mattered,—what mattered most +was that none of them can have had the sunshine of peace in their +hearts, for they must have known that they were doing wrong.</p> + +<p>Anyhow the magistrates of the city of Bristol had no manner of doubt +about that. As soon as the foolish, dishevelled, excited company +reached the city they were all clapped into gaol, which was perhaps +the best place to sober their excited spirits. The officers of the law +were thoroughly well pleased. They had said from the first that George +Fox was a most dangerous man, and that the Quakers were a misguided +people to follow him. Now the folly and wickedness of Nayler and his +company gave them just the excuse they were wanting to prove that they +had been right all along.</p> + +<p>James Nayler was taken to London, tried, found guilty, and sentenced +to savage punishments. He was examined at length by a Committee of +Parliament. Just before his sentence was pronounced he said that he +'did not know his offence,' which looks as if his mind really had been +clouded over when some of the things he was accused of were done. But +this was not allowed to be any excuse. 'You shall know your offence by +your punishment' was the only answer he received. The members of +Oliver Cromwell's second Parliament who dealt with Nayler's case were +not <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span>likely to be lenient to any man, who, like Nayler, had done wrong +and allowed himself to be led astray. His Commonwealth judges showed +him no mercy indeed. When Nayler heard his terrible sentence, he +listened calmly, and said, 'God has given me a body: God will, I hope, +give me a spirit to endure it. I pray God He may not lay it to your +charge.' This shows that he had learned really to share his Master's +Spirit, which is the only true way of imitating Him.</p> + +<p>The punishments were cruel and vindictive. They lasted through many +weeks. Half way through, many 'persons of note' signed a petition to +ask that he might be allowed to miss the rest of the penalties, owing +to his enfeebled condition. In spite of this, the whole barbarous +sentence was carried out. James Nayler bore it unflinchingly. I am +only going to tell you one or two of the cruel things that were done +to him—and those not the worst. He was sentenced to have the letter +'B' burned on his forehead with a hot iron. 'B' stands for +'Blasphemer,' and it was to show everybody who saw him, wherever he +came, that he had been found guilty of saying wicked things about God. +The worst part of this punishment must have been knowing in his heart +that the accusation was, more or less, true.</p> + +<p>There he stood before the Old Exchange in London, on a bitter December +day, in the presence of thousands of spectators. He bore not only the +branding with a red-hot iron on the forehead until smoke arose from +the burning flesh, but also other worse tortures with 'a wonderful +patience.' The crowd, who always assembled on such occasions, were +touched by his demeanour. Instead of jeering and mocking, as <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span>they +were accustomed to do to criminals, all these thousands of people +lifted their hats in token of respect, and remained standing +bareheaded as they watched him in his agony. It is said that 'he +shrinked a little when the iron came upon his forehead,' yet on being +unbound he embraced his executioner. One faithful friend, Robert Rich, +who had done his utmost to save Nayler from this terrible punishment, +stood with him on the pillory and held his hand all through the +burning, and afterwards licked the wounds with his tongue to allay the +pain. 'I am the dog that licked Lazarus' sores,' Robert Rich used to +say, alluding to that terrible day. Long years after, when he was an +old man with a long white beard, he used to walk up and down in +Meeting in a long velvet gown, still repeating the story of his +friend's sufferings and of his patience.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p>After this punishment Nayler was sent down to Bristol to undergo the +rest of his sentence there. He was made to enter the city again in +deepest humiliation, no longer with excited followers shouting +'Hosanna!' before him, but seated on a horse <i>facing to the tail</i>, +with the big 'B' burned on his forehead for all men to see—and then +he was publicly whipped.</p> + +<p>Yet in spite of all the pain and shame he must have been happier in +one way during that sorrowful return to Bristol than at his former +entrance to the city, for he must have had more true peace in his +heart.</p> + +<p>Now, at last, comes the happy end of this sad story. There is no need +to sit over the fire in the darkness any longer. We can dry our eyes +and light the lamps—for it is not sorrowful really. James Nayler's +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span>mistakes and sufferings had not been wasted. They had made him more +really like his Master, and his worst troubles were now over.</p> + +<p>He still lay in prison for two years more, but he was allowed ink and +paper, and he wrote many beautiful letters acknowledging that he had +done wrong, confessing his sin, and praising God even for the +sufferings which had shown him his error. He says in one place, 'the +provocation of that time of temptation was exceeding great against the +pure love of God; yet He left me not; for after I had given myself +under that power, and darkness was above, my adversary so prevailed, +that all things were turned and so perverted against my right seeing, +hearing, or understanding; only a secret hope and faith I had in my +God whom I had served, that He would bring me through it, and to the +end of it, and that I should again see the day of my redemption from +under it all; and this quieted my soul in my greatest tribulation.'</p> + +<p>And again, 'Dear brethren—My heart is broken this day for the offence +that I have occasioned to God's truth and people....</p> + +<p>'And concerning you, the tender plants of my Father, who have suffered +through me, or with me, in what the Lord hath suffered to be done with +me, in this time of great trial and temptation; the Almighty God of +love, Who hath numbered every sigh, and put every tear in His bottle, +reward it a thousandfold into your bosoms, in the day of your need, +when you shall come to be tried and tempted; and in the meantime +fulfil your joy with His love, which you seek after. The Lord knows, +it was never in my heart to cause you to mourn, whose suffering is my +greatest <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span>sorrow that ever yet came upon me, for you are innocent +herein.' After this, at last he was set free. The first thing he did +was to try to return home to his wife and children. It is said that +'he was a man of great self-denial, and very jealous of himself ever +after his fall and recovery. At last, departing from the city of +London, about the latter end of October 1660, towards the north, +intending to go home to his wife and children at Wakefield in +Yorkshire, he was seen by a Friend of Hertford (sitting by the wayside +in a very awful, weighty frame of mind), who invited him to his house, +but he refused, signifying his mind to pass forward, and so went on +foot as far as Huntingdon, and was observed by a Friend as he passed +through the town, in such an awful frame, as if he had been redeemed +from the earth, and a stranger on it, seeking a better country and +inheritance. But going some miles beyond Huntingdon, he was taken ill +(being as 'tis said) robbed by the way, and left bound: whether he +received any personal injury is not certainly known, but being found +in a field by a countryman toward evening, was had, or went to a +Friend's house at Holm, not far from King's Ripton, where Thomas +Parnell, a doctor of physic, dwelt, who came to visit him; and being +asked, if any Friends at London should be sent for to come and see +him; he said, "Nay," expressing his care and love to them. Being +shifted, he said, "You have refreshed my body, the Lord refresh your +souls"; and not long after departed this life in peace with the Lord, +about the ninth month, 1660, and the forty-fourth year of his age, and +was buried in Thomas Parnell's burying-ground at King's Ripton +aforesaid.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span>'I don't call that a happy ending. I call it a very sad ending indeed! +What could be worse? To sit all alone by the roadside, and then +perhaps to be robbed and bound, or if not that, at any rate to be +taken ill and carried to a stranger's house to die. That is only a +sorrowful ending to a most sorrowful life.'</p> + +<p>Is this what anyone is thinking?</p> + +<p>Ah, but listen! That is not the real end. It is said that 'about two +hours before his death he spoke in the presence of several witnesses' +these words:</p> + +<p>'There is a spirit which I feel, that delights to do no evil, nor to +revenge any wrong, but delights to endure all things, in hope to enjoy +its own in the end: its hope is to outlive all wrath and contention, +and to weary out all exaltation and cruelty, or whatever is of a +nature contrary to itself. It sees to the end of all temptations: as +it bears no evil in itself, so it conceives none in thoughts to any +other: if it be betrayed it bears it, for its ground and spring is the +mercies and forgiveness of God: its crown is meekness, its life is +everlasting love unfeigned, and takes its kingdom with entreaty, and +not with contention, and keeps it by lowliness of mind: in God alone +it can rejoice, though none else regard it, or can own its life: it is +conceived in sorrow, and brought forth without any to pity it; nor +doth it murmur at grief and oppression: it can never rejoice but +through sufferings; for with the world's joy it is murdered: I found +it alone, being forsaken; I have fellowship therein with them who +lived in dens, and desolate places in the earth, who through death +obtained this resurrection and eternal holy life.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span>That is why this story has a happy ending. A made-up story might have +left James Nayler at home with his wife and children. But, after all +he had suffered, he may have been too tired to bear much joy on earth. +Besides, how could he have borne for those dear ones to see the +condemning 'B' burned on his forehead? and the other scars and signs +of his terrible punishments, how could they have borne to see them?</p> + +<p>Was it not better that the end came as it did by the roadside near +Huntingdon?</p> + +<p>Only remember always, that what we call the end is itself only the +beginning.</p> + +<p>Think how thankful James Nayler must have been to lay down the tired, +scarred body in which he had sinned and suffered, while his spirit, +strengthened, purified, and cleansed by all he had endured, was set +free to serve in the larger, fuller life beyond. James Nayler's +difficult school-days were over at last on this little earth, where we +are set to learn our lessons. Like the other prodigal son he had gone +to receive his own welcome from the Father's heart in the Father's +Home.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p>Why have I told you this story—'the saddest story of all'? A parable +will explain it best. Imagine that ever since the beginning of Time +there has been a great big looking-glass with the sun shining down +upon it. Then imagine that that looking-glass has been broken up into +innumerable fragments, and that one bit is given to each human soul, +when it is born on earth, to keep and to hold at the right angle, so +that it can still reflect the sun's beams. That is something like the +truth that George Fox discovered for himself <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span>and preached all over +England. He called it the doctrine of 'The Inner Light.' To all the +hungering, thirsting, sinful, ignorant men and women in England he +gave the same message: 'There is that of God within you, that can +reflect Him. You can hear His Voice speaking in your hearts'; or, to +continue the parable, 'If you hold your own little bit of +looking-glass in the sunlight it will, it must, reflect the Sun.'</p> + +<p>James Nayler listened to this message, accepted it, and rejoiced in +it. He did truly turn to the Light. But he forgot one thing that must +never be forgotten. He looked too much at his own tiny bit of +looking-glass and too little at the Sun. In this way the mirror of his +soul grew soiled and stained and dim. It could no longer reflect the +Light faithfully. Then, it had to be cleansed by suffering. But all +this time, and always, the Sun of God's unchanging love was steadily +shining, waiting for him to turn to it again. Let us too look up +towards that Sun of Love. Let us open our hearts wide to receive its +light. Then we shall find that we have not only a mirror in our hearts +but also something alive and growing; what George Fox would call the +'Seed.' Sometimes he calls it the 'Seed,' and sometimes the 'Light,' +because it is too wonderful for any picture or parable to express it +wholly. But we each have 'that of God within' that can reflect and +respond to Him, if we will only let it. Let us try then to open our +hearts wide, wide, to receive, and not to think of ourselves. If we do +this, sooner or later we shall learn to live and grow in the sunshine +of God's love, as easily and naturally as the daisies do, when they +spread their white and golden hearts <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span>wide open in the earthly +sunshine on a summer's day.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p>James Nayler did learn that lesson at last, and therefore even this, +'the saddest story of all,' really and truly has a happy end.</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="XXI_PALE_WIND_FLOWERS" id="XXI_PALE_WIND_FLOWERS"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>XXI. PALE WIND FLOWERS: <br />OR THE LITTLE PRISON MAID<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Let not anything straiten you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span> +when God moves.'<span class="fakesc">—W. +DEWSBURY</span>, Epistle from York +Tower, 1660.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'All friends and brethren +everywhere, that are imprisoned +for the Truth, give yourselves up +in it, and it will make you free, +and the power of the Lord will +carry you over all the +persecutors. Be faithful in the +life and power of the Lord God and +be valiant for the Truth on the +earth; and look not at your +sufferings, but at the power of +God; and that will bring some good +out of all your sufferings; and +your imprisonments will reach to +the prisoned that the persecutor +prisons in himself.... So be +faithful in that which overcomes +and gives victory.'<span class="fakesc">—G. +FOX.</span></i></p></div> + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Bread and Wine were the Supper +of the Lord in the dispensation of +Time, ... a figure of His death, +which were fulfilled when He had +suffered and rose again, and now +He is known to stand at the door +and knock, "If any man hear my +Voice and open the door, I will +come in and sup with him and he +with me," saith Christ. And we +being many are one Bread and one +Body and know the Wine renewed in +our Father's Kingdom. Christ the +Substance we now witness; Shadows +and Figures done away; he that can +receive it, let him.'<span class="fakesc">—W. +DEWSBURY</span>.</i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>XXI. PALE WIND FLOWERS: <br />OR THE LITTLE PRISON MAID</h3> +<br /> + +<h4>I</h4> + +<p>'Dear grandfather will be wearying for me! We must not linger.' There +was a wistful ring in the child's voice as she spoke. Little Mary Samm +looked longingly towards a clump of wood anemones dancing in the +sunshine, as she followed her aunt, Joan Dewsbury, through a coppice +of beech-trees on the outskirts of the city of Warwick. It was a +bright windy day of early spring in the year 1680. Mary was twelve +years old, but so small and slight that she looked and seemed much +younger. And now she wanted badly to gather some wood anemones. But +would Aunt Joan approve? Would it be selfish to leave 'dear +grandfather' longer alone?</p> + +<p>Happily the older woman, who preceded little Mary on the narrow +woodland pathway, possessed a kind heart underneath her severe, grey, +Quaker bodice and stiff manner. She caught the wistful tone in the +little girl's voice, and, turning round, noticed the wood anemones. +Indeed, the wood anemones insisted on being noticed. Joan Dewsbury +walked on a few steps further in silence; then, setting the heavy +basket down on the trunk of a felled tree, 'No, Mary,' she said, 'in +truth we must not linger; but we may rest a few moments. Also thou +knowest thy grandfather's love of a posy in his prison. If I see +aright, there are some pale windflowers blowing yonder, beside that +old tree, though it is full early for them still. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span>Here, give me thy +basket, and hie thee to gather them. I will sit down and wait for thy +return; and, if we hasten our steps hereafter, we shall not be much +delayed.'</p> + +<p>Little Mary Samm glanced up with a joyful smile. She had espied the +few, first, faint windflowers as soon as she entered the wood; but, +without her aunt's permission, it would never have entered her head to +suggest that she might gather them. For Mary was a carefully trained +(not to say primly brought up) little maiden of the seventeenth +century, when children followed their elders' injunctions in all +things, without daring to dwell on their own wishes. If Joan Dewsbury +had been an artist she would have enjoyed watching the child's slim +little upright figure stepping daintily over the rustling brown beech +leaves, between the rounded trunks of the grey trees. The air was full +of the promise of early spring. A cold blue sky showed through the +lattice work of twigs and branches; but, as yet, no fluttering leaf +had crept out of its sheath to soften, with a hint of tender green, +the virginal stiffness and straightness of the stems. Grey among the +grey tree-trunks little Mary flitted about, gathering her precious +windflowers. She was clad in the demure Puritan dress worn by young +and old alike in the early days of the Society of Friends. A frock of +grey duffel hung in straight lines around her slight figure; a cape of +the same material was drawn closely round her shoulders, while a grey +bonnet framed the pensive face. A strange unchildlike face it was, +small and pinched, with a high, narrow forehead and sharply pointed +chin. There were no childish roses in the pale cheeks. A very faint +flush of pink, caused by fresh air and unwonted exercise, could not +disguise the curious yellow tinge of the skin, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span>like old parchment +that has been kept too long from the light of day. Only the tips of a +few locks of light brown hair, cut very short and straight round the +ears, were visible under the close, tightly-fitting bonnet.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep324" id="imagep324"></a> +<a href="images/imagep324.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep324.jpg" width="52%" alt="PALE WINDFLOWERS" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">PALE WINDFLOWERS<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>'An ugly little girl, in perfectly hideous clothes,' modern children +might have said if they had seen Mary Samm for the first time, looking +down at her windflowers, though even then there was a hint of beauty +in the long, curved, black eyelashes that lay quietly on the pale +cheeks, and a very sweet expression hovered round the corners of the +firm, delicate, little mouth. But no one who could have seen little +Mary running back to her aunt with her precious flowers in her hand +would have called her 'ugly' or even 'plain' any longer. The radiant +light in her eyes transfigured the small, pinched face of the demure +little being in its old-fashioned garments. Even critical modern +children would have forgotten everything else, and would have +exclaimed, 'She has the most beautiful eyes!'</p> + +<p>What colour were her eyes? They were not blue, or black, or grey, or +brown, or hazel, or green, or yellow. Perhaps they were in truth more +yellow than anything else. They were full not only of sparkling lights +but also of deep velvety shadows that made it difficult to tell their +exact colour. Who can say the colour of a mountain stream that runs +over a pebbled bed? Every stone can be seen through the clear, +transparent water, but there are mysterious, shadowy darknesses in it +also, reflected from the overhanging banks. Little Mary Samm's eyes +were both clear and mysterious as such a mountain stream; while her +voice,—but hush! she is speaking again, her rather shrill, high tones +breaking the crisp silence of the March afternoon.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span>'Here is the posy, Aunt; will not dear grandfather love his pale +windflowers, come like stars to visit him in his prison? Only these +flower stars will not pass away quickly out of sight as do the real +stars we watch together through the bars every evening.'</p> + +<p>Joan Dewsbury took the bunch of anemones from her niece's cold +fingers, laid it down carefully in Mary's rush basket and covered it +with a corner of the cloth. Had she been a 'nowadays aunt' she might +have thought that Mary was not unlike a windflower herself. The girl's +small white face was flushed faintly, like the ethereal white sepals; +there was a delicate, fragile fragrance about her as if a breath might +blow her away, yet there was an unconquerable air of determination +also in her every movement and gesture. But Joan Dewsbury was not a +'nowadays aunt'; she was a 'thenadays aunt,' and that was an entirely +different kind. She never thought of comparing a little girl, who had +come to take care of her grandfather in his prison, with the white, +starry flowers that came out in the wood so early, holding on tight to +the roots of the old tree, and blooming gallantly through all the +gales of spring. Joan Dewsbury's thoughts were full of different and, +to her, far more important matters than her niece's appearance. She +rose, and, after handing Mary her small rush basket and settling her +own larger one comfortably on her arm, the two started off once more +with quickened steps through the wood. Neither the older woman nor the +girl was much of a talker, and the winding woodland pathways were too +narrow for two people to walk abreast. But when they came out on the +broad grassy way that wandered across the meadows by the side of the +smooth Avon towards the city walls, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span>they did seem to have a few +things to say to one another. They spoke of the farm they had visited, +of the milk, eggs, and cheese they carried in their baskets. But most +often they mentioned 'the prison.' Little Mary still seemed to be in a +great hurry to get back to be with 'dear grandfather,' while her +companion was apparently anxious to detain her long enough to learn +something more of her life in the gaol.</p> + +<p>'I could envy thee, Mary, were it not a sin,' she said once. 'Thou art +a real comfort to my dear father. Since my mother died, gladly would I +have been his companion, and have sought to ease his captivity, but +the Governor of the gaol would not allow it.'</p> + +<p>'Ay, I know,' replied Mary, in her clear, high-pitched voice. 'My +mother told me that day at my home in Bedfordshire, that no one but a +child like me could be allowed to serve him, and to live in the prison +as his little maid.'</p> + +<p>'Didst thou want to come, Mary?' her aunt enquired.</p> + +<p>Mary's face clouded for a moment. Then she looked full at her aunt. +The candid eyes that had nothing to hide, reflected shadows as well as +light at that moment.</p> + +<p>'No, Aunt,' she said, firmly and clearly, 'at the first I did not want +to come. There was my home, thou seest; I love Hutton Conquest, and my +mother, and the maids, my sisters. Also I had many friends in our +village with whom I was wont to have rare frolics and games. When +first my mother told me of the Governor's permission, I did not want +to leave the pleasant Bedfordshire meadows that lie around our dear +farm, and go to live cooped up behind bolts and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span>bars. Besides, I had +heard that Warwick Gaol was a fearsome place. I was affrighted at the +thought of being shut up among the thieves and murderers. And—' She +hesitated.</p> + +<p>'Poor maid,' said her aunt, 'still thou didst come in the end?'</p> + +<p>'In the end it was made clear to me that my place was with dear +grandfather,' said the child in her crisp, old-fashioned way. 'My +mother said she could not force me; for she feared the gaol fever for +me. I feared it too. And it is worse even than I feared. At nights I +hear the prisoners screaming with it often. Nearly every day some of +them die. They say it is worse for the young, and I know my +grandfather dreads that I may take it. He looks at me often very +sadly, or he did when I first came. Always then at nightfall he grew +sad. But, latterly, we have been so comfortable together that I think +he hath forgot his fears. When the evenings darken, and he can no +longer read or write, we sit and watch the stars. Then if I can +persuade him to tell me stories of what he hath undergone, that doth +turn his thoughts, and afterwards he will fall asleep, and sleep well +the whole night through.'</p> + +<p>'Thou art a comfort to him, sure enough,' her aunt answered. 'It is +wonderful how much brighter he hath been since he had thee, though he +hath never smiled since my mother's death. But thou thyself must +surely grow tired of the prison and its bare stone walls? Thou must +long to be back at play with thy sisters in the Bedfordshire meadows?'</p> + +<p>'That do I no longer,' little Mary Samm made answer firmly. 'I love my +sisters dearly, dearly,' she <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span>raised her voice unconsciously as she +spoke, and a chaffinch on a branch overhead filled in the pause with +an answering chirp, 'I love my mother too. Didst thou really say thou +wert expecting her to visit thee right soon? My dear, dear mother! But +I love my dear grandfather best of all, for he hath nobody but me to +care for him. At least, of course, he hath thee, Aunt Joan,' she added +hastily, noticing a slight shade pass over her aunt's face. 'And what +should we do without thee to bake bread for us, and go to the farm to +fetch him fresh eggs, and butter, and cheese, and sweet, new milk? He +would soon starve on the filthy prison fare. See, I have the milk +bottle safe hidden under my flowers.'</p> + +<p>'Aye, thou wast ever a careful maid,' answered her aunt; 'but, tell +me, hath the Governor indeed grown gentler of late, and hath he given +my father more liberty, and a better room?'</p> + +<p>'That he hath indeed. He patted my head this very morn, and said I +might have permission to come out and walk with thee for the first +time,' Mary answered. 'He saith, too, that the gaol is no place for a +child like me, and that thou shalt come and see us in a se'nnight from +now; then haply thou wilt bring my mother with thee! The room my +grandfather hath now is small in truth, but he can lie down at length, +and I have a little cupboard within the wall where I can also lie and +hear if he needs me. Doth he but stir or call "Mary" at nights, ever +so gently, in a moment I am by his side.'</p> + +<p>'And canst thou ease him?' her aunt enquired.</p> + +<p>'That I can,' answered Mary proudly. 'Often I can ease him, or warm +his poor cold hands, or soothe <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span>him till he sleeps again, for he grows +weaker after this long imprisonment.'</p> + +<p>'Small wonder,' replied her aunt. 'If thou hadst seen the dungeon +where they set him first—foul, beneath the floor, with no window, +only a grating overhead to give him air. There were a dozen or more +felons and murderers packed in it too, along with him, so that he had +not enough room even to lie down. But there—it is not fit for a child +like thee to know the half of all he hath undergone in the cause of +Truth.'</p> + +<p>'Dear, dear grandfather,' said Mary wistfully, 'yet he never +complains. He says always that he "doth esteem the locks and bolts as +jewels," since he doth endure them for his Master's sake.'</p> + +<p>'Ay, and what was his crime for which he suffered at first in that +foul place? Nothing but his giving of thanks one night after supper at +an inn. His accusers must needs affirm this to be "preaching at a +conventicle." Hist! we had better be silent now we have reached the +town. I must leave thee at the gate of the gaol, and go on my way, +while thou goest thine. Be sure and say to my dear father that I and +thy mother will visit him as soon as ever the Governor shall permit.'</p> + +<p>A few minutes later they stopped; Joan Dewsbury took the basket from +her arm and gave it to her niece. 'Farewell, dear child,' she said +cheerily, as the porter opened the tall portal of the prison; but her +eyes grew dim as she watched the small figure disappear behind the +heavy bolts and bars.</p> + +<p>'She is a good maid, and a brave one,' she said to herself as she +passed down the street between the timbered houses to her home. 'Yet +she is not as other children are. For all the comfort she is to my +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span>dear father, I would fain think of her safe once more at home with her +sisters. Right glad I am that her mother hath sent me word by a sure +hand to say she cometh speedily to see of her condition for herself. +The Governor is right, the gaol is no place for a child, nor is it the +life for her either. She liveth too much in her own thoughts. This +morn on our walk to the farm when I asked her wherefore she seemed +sorrowful, she replied that she was "troubled in her conscience, that +she thought she would not live long and wanted satisfaction from the +Lord as to whither her soul would go if she were to die." Yet she +sprang after those flowers as gaily as her sisters, and she saith +always that she is well. If only she may keep as she is until her +mother shall come.'</p> + +<p>Shaking her head, and full of anxious thoughts, the kind woman pursued +her homeward way. Over the cobble-stones and between the timbered +houses with their steep gables and high-thatched roofs, she passed +through the city until she came to her own small dwelling, William +Dewsbury's home, where his daughter lived alone, and awaited his +return.</p> + + +<h4>II</h4> + +<p>Have you ever seen a ray of golden sunshine steal in through the thick +blinds, heavy shutters and close curtains that try to shut it out? +People may pull down the blinds and shut the shutters and draw the +curtains, and do their very best to keep the sunshine away. Yet, +sooner or later, a ray always manages to get in somehow. It dances +through a chink here or a hole there, or steals along the floor, till +at last it arrives, a radiant messenger, in the darkened room <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span>to say +that a whole world of light is waiting outside.</p> + +<p>In spite of her sombre garments, Mary Samm was like such a ray of +sunshine as she stole into Warwick prison. No doors, bolts or bars +could keep her out; and the gaoler seemed to know it, as he preceded +her down the damp, dark, stone passages: the walls and floor oozing +moisture, and the ceiling blackened by the smoke of many candles. The +prisons of England were all foul, ill-smelling, fever-haunted places +at that time; and hardly any of them was worse than Warwick gaol.</p> + +<p>William Dewsbury had earned the esteem of his keepers during his +successive imprisonments which lasted altogether for nearly nineteen +years. He was privileged now to lie away from the other criminals, who +were herded together in the main building. He had been given a small +apartment that looked towards the river on the far side of a +courtyard, called the sergeants' ward. There was even a pump in the +centre of this courtyard from whence his granddaughter might fetch him +water daily, and the old man and the child were now privileged to take +exercise together in the fresh air;—a great solace in the weary +monotony of prison life. The gaoler unlocked the door of this +sergeants' ward, and then, putting into Mary's hand the key of her +grandfather's apartment, he retraced his steps to the outer gate. Mary +sped across the cobble-stones of the courtyard with joyful haste, +unlocked the door, set down her baskets carefully, the big one first, +the little one after it, and then, 'Grandfather, dear Grandfather,' +she exclaimed, 'tell me, am I late? Hast thou missed thy little prison +maid?'</p> + +<p>The white-haired man, who was writing at a rough oak table, lifted his +head as she entered. His face <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span>was worn and haggard; his eyes were +sunken, but the smile that overspread his countenance, as he saw who +had entered, was as bright as little Mary's own. Laying down his pen +and pushing the papers from him, he held out his arms, and in another +minute his granddaughter was clasped in his embrace.</p> + +<p>It would be hard to say which of the two was the happier as she placed +the precious windflowers in his thin, blue-veined hand and told him +all she had seen and done. Joan's messages were given; and then, 'But +what hast thou been doing, dear Grandfather?' Mary asked in her turn. +'Hast thou been writing yet another Epistle to Friends to encourage +them to stand firm? I see thy name very clear and bold at the foot: +"William Dewsbury." I love thy name, Grandfather! It reminds me of our +summer flowers and berries at home in Bedfordshire and of the heavy +dews that fall on them. Thy name is as good as a garden, Grandfather, +in itself.'</p> + +<p>'It is thou who shouldst be in a garden thyself, my little Mary,' +William Dewsbury answered sorrowfully. 'It is sad to bring thee back +within these gloomy walls, a maid like thee.'</p> + +<p>'Nay, Grandfather, it is not sad! Thou promised me that thou wouldst +never say that again! My work was shewn me plainly; that I was to come +and care for thee, and fetch thee thy provisions. It is full early yet +for supper, although the light is fading; canst thou not tell me a +little tale while I sit on thy knee? Afterwards we will eat our meal, +and then thou wilt tell me more stories yet, more and more, to shorten +the dark hours till the stars are shining brightly and it is time to +go to rest.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span>'Thou hast heard most of my tales so often, dear Granddaughter, as we +sit here these dark evenings, that thou dost almost know them better +than I myself,' the old man replied.</p> + +<p>'Yea, truly, I know them well,' answered Mary. 'Yet I am never weary +of hearing of thy own life long ago. Tell me once more how thou wast +brought off from being a soldier, and established in the path of +peace.'</p> + +<p>'Thou must have that tale well nigh by heart already, dear lamb,' the +old man answered. 'Many a time I have told thee of my early days among +the flocks, how I was a shepherd lad until I came to thine own age of +twelve years. Thereafter, when I was thirteen years old, I was bound +an apprentice to a clothmaker in a town called Holdbeck, near Leeds. +He was a godly man and strict, but sharp of tongue. I might have +continued in that town to this day. But when I was fully come to man's +estate the Civil War between King and Parliament broke out all over +the land. Loath was I to take up arms, having been ever of a peaceable +disposition, but when wise men, whom I revered, called upon me to +fight for the civil and religious freedom of my native land, it seemed +to me, in my dark ignorance of soul, that no other course remained +honourably open to me. I feared if I did not join the Army of the +Parliament that had sworn to curb the tyranny of Charles Stuart, then +upon my head would rest the curse of Meroz, "who went not to the help +of the Lord against the mighty." Thus I became a soldier, thinking +that by so doing I was fighting for the Gospel—and forgetting that my +Master was One who was called the Prince of Peace.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span>'Small peace, in truth, did I find in the ranks of the army of the +Parliament—or indeed in any other place, until in the fulness of time +it was made clear to me that I was but seeking the living amongst the +dead, and looking without for that which was only to be found within.</p> + +<p>'Then my mind was turned within, by the power of the Lord, to wait on +His counsel, the Light in my own conscience, to hear what the Lord +would say: and the word of the Lord came unto me, and said, "Put up +thy sword into thy scabbard.... Knowest thou not that if I need I +could have twelve legions of Angels from my Father": which Word +enlightened my heart, and discovered the mystery of iniquity, and that +the Kingdom of Christ was within, and was spiritual, and my weapons +against them must be spiritual, the Power of God.</p> + +<p>'It was on this wise that I came to join the Army of the Lamb, and of +His peaceful servants who follow Him whithersoever He goeth.'</p> + +<p>'But, Grandfather, explain to me, how couldst thou leave the +Parliamentary army thou wert pledged to serve?'</p> + +<p>'A hard struggle I had truly to get free. Yet I did leave it, for I +was yet more deeply pledged to Him Who had said, "My kingdom is not of +this world: if my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants +fight." At length my way was made more plain before me. I left the +army and resumed my weaving. Thus I passed through deep baptizings of +the Holy Ghost and of fire,—baptisms too deep for a child like thee +to understand how they affected my soul.'</p> + +<p>Mary nodded her head gently and said to herself, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</a></span>'Perhaps I can +understand already, better than my grandfather thinks. Have I not +twice already in my young years been brought nigh to death? Even now +death seemeth to me often not far away.'</p> + +<p>'Wouldst thou then fear to die, Grandfather?' she added aloud.</p> + +<p>'No more than a bird would fear to leave its cage and fly, were once +the door but open,' the old man answered. 'But the door is still +securely fastened for me, it seems; and since I had thee, my little +bird, to share my captivity I am no longer anxious to leave my cage. I +was younger by four years than thou art now, my child, when I lost my +fear of the grave. It was on this wise. I was but a little lad of +eight years old, mourning and weeping for the loss of my dear father, +who had been taken from us. As the tears streamed down my cheeks, +methought I heard a Voice saying: "Weep for thyself; thy father is +well." Never since that day, Mary child, have I doubted for one moment +that for those who go hence in peace, it is well indeed.'</p> + +<p>'Dear Grandfather, there is a sad sound in thy voice,' said little +Mary. 'It is too dark by this time to see thy face, but I cannot let +thee be sad. How shall I cheer thee? Ah! I know! how could I have +forgotten? My aunt charged me to say she hath news by a sure hand that +my dear mother may be coming hither to visit thee and me before many +days are over.'</p> + +<p>'My daughter Mary is ever welcome,' said the old man dreamily, 'and in +the darkness thy voice is so like to hers, I could almost deem she +herself was sitting by my side. Already the young moon has disappeared +behind the battlements of the castle. Yet <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[337]</a></span>I need not her silver light +to tell me that thy hair is softer and straighter than thy mother's, +and without the golden lights and twining curls that hers had when she +was thy age.'</p> + +<p>'The moon truly has left us, Grandfather,' Mary interrupted, springing +from his knee. 'Yet what matters the darkness while we are close +together? I can still see to get thy supper ready for thee. Thou must +eat first, and then we will talk further, until it is time to go to +rest.'</p> + +<p>Deftly the little prison maid moved about the bare cell, drawing her +grandfather's chair to the rough oak table. On this she arranged the +loaf of bread and bottle of milk from her basket, setting them and the +earthenware mugs and platters out on the white cloth, to look as +home-like as possible. The anemones in the centre still glimmered +faintly as if shining by their own light. The simple meal was a very +happy one. When it was finished and the remains had been cleared away +and carefully replaced in the basket for to-morrow's needs, the stars +were looking in through the prison bars.</p> + +<p>'Now, one more story, Grandfather,' said Mary firmly, 'just one, +before we go to rest.'</p> + +<p>'I love to see thy small white face shining up at me through the +gloom,' the old man answered. 'I will tell thee of my first meeting +with George Fox. Hast thou ever heard that story?'</p> + +<p>The little prison maid was far too wary to reply directly.</p> + +<p>'Tell it to me now, Grandfather,' she replied evasively, and then, to +turn the old man's thoughts in the right direction, 'thou hadst +already left the army <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[338]</a></span>by that time?' she hazarded.</p> + +<p>'Ay, that I had,' answered Dewsbury. 'I had left it for several years, +and a measure of Truth I had found for myself. Greatly I longed to +proclaim it and to share my new-found happiness with others. But the +inward Voice spoke to me clearly and said: "Keep thee silent for six +full years, until the year 1652 shall have come. Then shalt thou find +more hungering and thirsting among the people than at the present +time." So "I kept silence even from good words, though it was pain and +grief to me." Thou knowest, Mary, even while I was yet in the army, +many and deep exercisings had I had in my spirit, and such were still +my portion at times. About this time, by the providence of God, I +chanced to hear of a young woman living in the city of York, who was +going through a like season of sorrow and anguish regarding her +immortal soul. After due deliberation, I found it in my heart to pay +her a visit. I did this and went on foot to York. When I came into her +presence, at once we were made aware of each other's conditions. No +sooner did we begin to converse than we found ourselves joined +together in deep unity of spirit. Her spiritual exercises answered +unto mine own, as in water face answereth to face. Dost thou +understand, child, of what I am speaking?'</p> + +<p>'I follow not thy language always with entire comprehension, dear +Grandfather,' answered Mary with her usual precise honesty of speech, +'but it appears to me thy meaning is clear. I think that this young +woman must likely have been my grandmother?'</p> + +<p>William Dewsbury smiled. 'Thou art right,' he said, 'it was to be even +so, in the fulness of time; that, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[339]</a></span>however, was long after. Almost at +once we became man and wife. There seemed no need to settle that +between us. It had been settled for us by Him who brought us together. +We knew it from the first moment that we saw each the other's face. +Thy grandmother had in a measure joined herself unto the Anabaptists, +therefore 'twas at one of their meetings that we were wed. The power +of the Spirit was an astonishment unto them, and I have heard it said +that never hath the Divine Presence been more felt in any assembly +than it was that day. Thy grandmother resembled thee, my Mary, as thou +wilt be when thou art a woman grown—when thou shalt be taller and +rounder, and less slim and spare. Her eyes were darker than thine, and +she had the same soft brown hair as thine, but with thy mother's +golden threads in it, my Ann! Before she became my wife, she had been +blessed with a plenty of this world's goods, but no sooner were we wed +than her brother unjustly deprived her of her property. For myself, I +cared not. Now that she was safely mine own, he was welcome to the +land that should have been hers by right. Yet for her sake I strove to +get it back, but in vain. Then did the enemy of souls reproach me for +having brought her, whom I tenderly loved, into a state of poverty. In +humiliation and lowliness of mind before the Lord, without yielding to +the tempter, I desired Him to make me content to be what He would have +me to be; and, in a moment, I was so filled with the presence of the +Lord, that I was not able to bear the weight of the glory that was +upon me. I desired the Lord, if He had any service for me to do, to +withdraw, for I could not live; then I heard as it were a Voice say to +me, "Thou <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[340]</a></span>art Mine, all in heaven and earth is Mine, and it is thine +in Me; what I see good I will give unto thee, and unto thy wife and +children."'</p> + +<p>'Poor Grandfather, that was a hard pass for thee,' murmured Mary, +smoothing the old man's coat sleeve. 'But did not a great joy follow +close upon thy trouble?' she prompted, 'a great joy on a moonshine +night, not a dark one like this?'</p> + +<p>William Dewsbury's countenance kindled with fresh life and vigour. +'Yea, my child,' he answered, 'light did indeed illuminate us on that +same moonshine night of which thou speakest, when we went, my Ann and +I, to Lieutenant Roper's house to hear the Stranger preach. All our +lives we had both been seeking, but now by the Power of the Lord, the +time was come for us to find. We went to hear a Stranger. But no +stranger was George Fox. Rather did we recognise him, from the first +moment of that meeting, as the own brother of our souls. Up and down +the length and breadth of the land I had journeyed, seeking for +deliverance and for truth. Now, in my own county of Yorkshire, my +deliverer was found. It was not alone the words he spake, though they +were forcible and convincing, much more it was the irresistible Power +of the Lord breathing through him that brought us to our knees. All +men could see as they looked upon his goodly form, not then marred by +cruel imprisonments and sufferings, that he was a man among ten +thousand. But to me he was also a chosen vessel of the Lord; for power +spoke through him, yea, to my very heart. I have told thee, Mary, of +my long searchings after truth, and of those of my dear wife. There +was no need to mention one <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[341]</a></span>of them to George. With the first words he +spake it was clear to me that he knew them all, he could read our +necessities like an open book. Well hath it been said of him that "he +was a man of God endued with a clear and wonderful depth; a discerner +of other men's spirits, and very much a master of his own." Our hearts +clave unto him at once. We could scarcely restrain ourselves until the +meeting should be at an end, to disclose our inmost souls unto him. +Then at last, when all the multitude had departed, we watched Friend +George set out on his homeward way. We followed him in all haste, my +Ann and I, until we came up with him in a lonely field. The moon shone +full on his face and on our seeking faces, revealing us to each other. +At first he gazed on us as if we were strangers. For all we had longed +ardently to tell him, we found no words. Only a long time we stood +together silently, we three, with the dumb kine slumbering around us +in the dewy meadows; we three, revealed to one another in the full +light. Then at last we confessed to the Truth before him, and from him +we received Truth again. There is no Scripture to warrant the +sprinkling of a few drops of water on the face of a child and calling +that Baptism; but there is a Scripture for being baptized with the +Holy Ghost and with fire. That true essential Baptism did our spirits +receive in very deed that night from God's own minister of His +Everlasting Gospel.</p> + +<p>'Thus, then and there, were we three knit together in soul; and the +Lord's Power was over all.'</p> + +<p>The old man's voice died away into silence. His thoughts were far off +in the past. The loneliness of the prison was forgotten, little Mary +knew that her <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[342]</a></span>evening's task was done. Very gently she flitted from +his side, arranged his bed for the night, and then slipped, +noiselessly as a shadow, into her little inner cell, scarcely larger +than a cupboard. Here she undressed in the darkness and laid herself +down on her little straw pallet on the floor. But she had brought the +precious windflowers with her. 'They are so white, they will be like +company through the dark night hours,' she said to herself, placing +the glass close to her bed. Presently, through a tiny slit of window +high up in the prison wall, one sentinel star looked down into the +narrow cell. It peeped in upon a small white figure straight and slim +amid the surrounding blackness of the cell, with 'dear, long, lean, +little arms lying out on the counterpane'; but Mary's eyes were wide +open, her ears were listening intently for her grandfather's softest +call.</p> + +<p>Gradually the ray of starlight crept up the prison wall and +disappeared; soon other stars one by one looked in at the narrow +window and passed upwards also on their high steep pathways; gradually +the eyelids closed, and the long dark lashes lay upon the white +cheeks. Drowsily little Mary thought to herself, 'I am glad my mother +will soon be here, but it hath been a very happy evening. Truly I am +glad I came to help dear grandfather, and to be his little prison +maid.'</p> + +<p>Only one starry white windflower, clasped tight in her fingers through +the long night hours, gradually drooped and died.</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="XXII_AN_UNDISTURBED_MEETING" id="XXII_AN_UNDISTURBED_MEETING"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[343]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>XXII. AN UNDISTURBED MEETING<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'It was impossible to ignore the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[344]</a></span> +Quaker because he would not be +ignored. If you close his +meeting-house he holds it in the +street; if you stone him out of +the city in the evening, he is +there in the morning with his +bleeding wounds still upon him.... +You may break the earthen vessel, +but the spirit is invincible and +that you cannot kill.'<span class="fakesc">—JOHN WILHELM ROWNTREE.</span></i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Interior calmness means interior +and exterior strength.'<span class="fakesc">—J. RENDEL HARRIS.</span></i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Be nothing terrified at their +threats of banishment, for they +cannot banish you from the coasts +and sanctuary of the Living God.'<span class="fakesc">—MARGARET FOX</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Grant us grace to rest from all +sinful deeds and thoughts, to +surrender ourselves wholly unto +Thee, to keep our souls still +before Thee like a still lake; +that so the beams of Thy love may +be mirrored therein, and may +kindle in our hearts the beams of +faith, and love, and prayer. May +we, through such stillness and +hope, find strength and gladness +in Thee O God, now, and for +evermore.'<span class="fakesc">—JOACHIM EMBDEN</span>, 1595.</i></p></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>'For the soul that is close to</i></span> <span class="fakesc" style="padding-left: 0em;"><i>GOD</i></span><br /> +<span class="i1"><i>In the folded wings of prayer,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0a"><i>Passion no more can vex,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>Infinite peace is there.'</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10 fakesc"><i>EDWIN HATCH.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[345]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>XXII. AN UNDISTURBED MEETING</h3> +<br /> + +<p>Quiet and lonely now stands the small old farmhouse of Drawwell, +on the sunny slope of a hill, under the shadow of the great +fells. To this day the old draw-well behind the house, which +gives its name to the homestead, continues to yield its +refreshing draught of pure cold water. 'It is generally full, +even in times of drought, and never overflows.'<a name="FNanchor_32_32" id="FNanchor_32_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_32_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> To this day, +also, the 'living water,' drawn in many a 'mighty Meeting' held +around that well in the early years of Quakerism, continues to +refresh thirsty souls.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p>It was to Drawwell Farm that George Fox came with his hosts Thomas and +John Blaykling, on Whitsun Wednesday evening in June 1652, at the end +of Sedbergh Fair. From Drawwell he accompanied them to Firbank Chapel, +the following Sunday forenoon. There, high up on the opposite fell, he +was moved, as he says in his Journal, to 'sit down upon the rock on +the mountain' and 'discourse to over a thousand people, amongst whom I +declared God's everlasting Truth and word of life freely and largely, +for about the space of three hours, whereby many were convinced.'</p> + +<p>More than once in after days, George Fox returned again thankfully to +Drawwell, seeking and finding rest and refreshment for soul and body +under its hospitable, low, stone roof, as he went up and down on +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[346]</a></span>those endless journeys of his, throughout the length and breadth of +England, whereby he 'kept himself in a perpetual motion, begetting +souls unto God.'</p> + +<p>Many hallowed memories cling about Drawwell Farm,—as closely as the +silvery mist clings to every nook and cranny of its walls in damp +weather,—but none more vivid than that of the Undisturbed Meeting of +1665.</p> + +<p>George Fox was not present that day. His open-air wanderings, and his +visits to the home under the great fells were alike at an end for a +time, while in the narrow prison cells of Lancaster and Scarborough he +was bearing witness, after a different fashion, to the freedom of the +Spirit of the Lord. George Fox was not among the guests at Drawwell. +No 'mighty Meeting,' as often at other times, was gathered there that +day. There was only a company of humble men and women seated on forms +and chairs under the black oak rafters of the big barn that adjoins +the house, since the living-room was not spacious enough to hold them +all with ease, although their numbers were not much above a score.</p> + +<p>The Master and Mistress of Drawwell were present of course. Good +Farmer Blaykling, with his ever ready courtesy and kindness, looked +older now than on the day, thirteen years before, when he and his +father had brought the young preacher back with them from the Fair. He +himself had known latterly what it was to suffer 'for Truth's sake,' +as some extra furrows on his brow had testified plainly since the day +when 'Priest John Burton of Sedbergh beat John Blaykling and pulled +him by the hair off his seat in his high place.' Happily that outbreak +had passed over, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[347]</a></span>all seemed quiet this Sunday morning, as he took +his place in the big barn. His wife sat by his side; around them were +their children (none of them young), the farm lads and lasses, and +several families of neighbouring Friends. But it chanced that the +youngest person present, one of the farm lasses, was well into her +teens.</p> + +<p>'Surely it was the loving-kindness of the Lord' (motherly Mistress +Blaykling was wont to testify in after years) 'that brought the ordeal +only upon us, grown men and women, and not upon any tender babes.' The +Meeting began, much like any other Meeting in that peaceful country, +where Friends ever loved to gather under the shadow of the hills and +the yet mightier overshadowing of the Spirit of God. The Dove of Peace +brooded over the company. Even as the unseen water bubbled in the dark +depths of the old draw-well close by, so, in the deep stillness, +already some hearts were becoming conscious of—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0a">'The bubbling of the hidden springs,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That feed the world.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="noin">Soon, out of the living Silence would have been born the fresh gift of +living speech....</p> + +<p>When suddenly, into all this peace, there came the clattering of +horses' hoofs along the stony road that leads to the farm, followed by +loud voices and a pistol shot, as a body of troopers trotted right up +to the homestead. Finding that deserted and receiving no answers to +their shouts, they proceeded to the barn itself in search of the +assembled Friends. The officer in charge was a young Ensign, Lawrence +Hodgson, a very gay gentleman indeed, a gentleman of the Restoration, +when not only courtiers but soldiers <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[348]</a></span>too, knew well what it was to be +courtly.</p> + +<p>He came from Dent, 'with other officers of the militia and soldiers.' +Now Dent was a place of importance, in those days, and looked down on +even Sedbergh as a mere village. Wherefore to be sent off to a small +farm in the outskirts of Sedbergh in search of a nest of Quakers was a +paltry job at best for these fine gentlemen from Dent. Naturally, they +set about it, cursing and swearing with a will, to shew what brave +fellows they were. For here were all these Quakers whom they had been +sent to harry, brazening out their crime in the full light of day. By +Act of Parliament it had been declared, not so long ago either, that +any Quakers who 'assembled to the number of five or more persons at +any one time, and in any one place, under pretence of joining in a +religious worship not authorised by law, were, on conviction, to +suffer merely fines or imprisonment for their first and second +offences, but for the third, they were to be liable to be transported +to any of His Majesty's plantations beyond seas.' A serious penalty +this, in those days second only to death itself, and a terror to the +most hardened of the soldiery; but here was a handful of humble +farmfolk, deliberately daring such a punishment unafraid.</p> + +<p>'Stiff-necked Quakers—you shall answer for this,' shouted Ensign +Hodgson as he entered 'cursing and swearing' (so says the old account) +'and threatening that if Friends would not depart and disperse he +would kill them and slay and what not.' 'You look like hardened +offenders, all of you, and I doubt this is not a first offence.' So +saying, the Ensign set spurs to his horse and rode up and down the +barn, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[349]</a></span>overturning forms and chairs, slashing at the women Friends +with the flat of his sword, while some of the roughest of his +followers poked the sharp points of their blades through the coats of +the men, 'just to remind you, Quaker dogs, of what we could do, an' we +chose.'</p> + +<p>Amid all this noise and hurly-burly, the men and women Friends sat on +in stillness as long as possible. Only when their seats were actually +overturned, they rose to their feet and stood upright in their places. +They were ready to be beaten or trampled upon, if necessary; but they +would not, of their own will, quit their ground. Strangely enough, the +wives did not rush to their husbands or cling to them; the men did not +seek to protect the women-folk. They all remained, even the lads and +lasses, self-poised as it were, one company still; resting, as long as +they could, quietly, in the inward citadel of peace. In spite of all +the hubbub, the true spirit of worship was not disturbed.</p> + +<p>At last the soldiers, determined not to be baffled, came to yet closer +quarters and drove their unresisting victims, willy nilly, before them +from under the sheltering rafters of the barn. The Friends were +roughly hustled down the steep hillside and driven hither and thither, +but still the meeting was not interrupted, for their hearts could not +be driven out from the overshadowing presence of God.</p> + +<p>So the great fells looked down upon a strange scene a few minutes +later,—a strange scene, yet one all too common in those days. A +cavalcade of glittering horsemen with their flowing perukes, ruffles, +gay coats, plumed hats, and all the extravagances of the costume of +even the fighting man of 'good King <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[350]</a></span>Charles's golden days.' In the +centre of this gay throng, a little company of Friends in their plain +garments of homespun and duffel, moving along, with sober faces and +downcast eyes, speaking never a word as their captors prepared to +force them to their destination—the Justice's house at Ingmire Hall +near Sedbergh.</p> + +<p>Now from Drawwell Farm to Ingmire is some little distance. The way is +hilly, and the roads are narrow and rough. Bad going it is on those +roads even to-day, and far worse in the times of which I write. +Therefore the troopers quickly grew weary of their task, weary of +trying to rein in their mettlesome horses to keep pace with the slow +steps of their prisoners, weary, too, of even the sport of pricking at +these last with their swords, to try to make them go faster.</p> + +<p>They had barely reached the bottom of the slope when Ensign Hodgson, +ever a restless youth, lost patience. As soon as he found his horse on +a bit of level road, he called to his men, 'Halloo! here's our chance +for a canter!—We'll leave the Lambs to follow us to the +slaughter-house at their own sweet will.' Then, seeing mingled relief +and consternation on the men's faces, he slapped his thighs with a +loud laugh and said: 'Ye silly fellows, have no fear! No Quaker ever +yet tried to escape from gaol, nor ever will. We can trust them to +follow us in our absence as well as if we were here to drive them. +Quakers haven't the wit to seek after their own safety.'</p> + +<p>The audacity of the plan tickled the troopers. Following Hodgson's +example, they, one and all, raised their plumed hats and, rising high +in their stirrups, bowed with mock courtesy, as they took leave of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[351]</a></span>their prisoners.</p> + +<p>'Farewell, sweet Lambkins,' called out the Ensign, 'hasten your Quaker +pace and meet us at the slaughter-house at Ingmire Hall as fast as you +can, <span class="fakesc">OR</span>' ... he cocked his pistol at them, and then, +dashing it up, fired a shot into the air. With wild shouting and +laughter the whole troop disappeared round a turn of the road. 'To +Sedbergh,' they cried, 'to Sedbergh first! Plenty of time for a +carouse, and yet to arrive at Ingmire Hall as soon as the Lambs!'</p> + +<p>Arriving in Sedbergh at a canter they slackened rein at a tavern and +refreshed themselves with a draught of ale and an hour's carouse, +before setting off to meet their prisoners at the Justice's house.</p> + +<p>When they arrived at Ingmire Hall, to their dismay, not a Quaker was +in sight. Sending his men off to scour the roads, Ensign Hodgson +himself dismounted with an oath on Justice Otway's doorstep, and went +within to inquire if the Quakers from Drawwell had yet arrived.</p> + +<p>'The Quakers, <span class="fakesc">WHOM YOU WERE SENT TO FETCH</span> from Drawwell and +for whose non-appearance you are yourself wholly responsible, +<span class="fakesc">HAVE NOT ARRIVED</span>,' answered the Justice tartly, raising his +eyebrows as if to emphasise his words. All men knew that good Sir John +Otway was no friend to persecution; and gay Lawrence Hodgson was no +favourite of his.</p> + +<p>With a louder oath than that with which he had entered the house, the +Ensign flung out of it again, and rode off at the head of his men—all +of them discomfited by their vain search, for not a Quaker was to be +seen in the neighbourhood. The 'Lambs' were less docile than had been +supposed. After all, they had <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[352]</a></span>successfully managed to avoid the +'slaughter-house'; they must have retreated to Drawwell, if they had +not even seized the opportunity to escape.</p> + +<p>Back again along the road to Drawwell, therefore, the whole sulky +company of horsemen were obliged to return, much out of humour. +Cursing their leader's carelessness, as he doubtless cursed his own +folly, they trotted along, gloomily enough, till they came to the bend +of the road where the homestead comes in sight, and where they had +taken leave of their prisoners. There, as they turned the corner, +suddenly they all stopped, thunderstruck, pulling their horses back on +to their haunches in their amazement.</p> + +<p>The Lambs had not escaped! Though they had not followed meekly to the +slaughter-house, at least they had made no endeavours to flee, or even +to return to the sheepfold on the hillside above them. All the time +that the soldiers had been carousing in the alehouse, or searching the +lanes, the little company of Friends had remained in the very same +spot where the soldiers had left them nearly two hours before.</p> + +<p>And there they were still, every one of them;—sitting on the green, +grassy bank by the wayside. There they were, quietly going on with +their uninterrupted worship. Yes; out there, under the shadow of the +everlasting hills, untroubled by the shadow of even a passing cloud of +fear, the Friends calmly continued to wait upon God.</p> + +<br /> +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<br /> + +<h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_32_32" id="Footnote_32_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> This paragraph is taken from E.E. Taylor's description +of Drawwell.</p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="XXIII_BUTTERFLIES_IN_THE_FELLS" id="XXIII_BUTTERFLIES_IN_THE_FELLS"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[353]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>XXIII. BUTTERFLIES IN THE FELLS<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'My concern for God and His holy,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[354]</a></span> +eternal truth was then in the +North, where God had placed and +set me.'<span class="fakesc">—MARGARET +FOX</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'I should be glad if thou would +incline to come home, that thou +might get a little Rest, methinks +its the most comfortable when one +has a home to be there, but the +Lord give us patience to bear all +things'<span class="fakesc">—M. FOX</span> to G. +Fox, 1681.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'I did not stir much abroad +during the time I now stayed in +the North; but when Friends were +not with me spent pretty much time +in writing books and papers for +Truth's service.'<span class="fakesc">—G. +FOX</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'All dear Friends press forward +in the straight way.'<span class="fakesc">—JOHN AUDLAND</span>.</i></p></div> + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Is not liberty of conscience in +religion a fundamental?... Liberty +of conscience is a natural right, +and he that would have it, ought +to give it, having liberty to +settle what he likes for the +public.... This I say is +fundamental: it ought to be so. It +is for us and the generations to +come.'<span class="fakesc">—OLIVER +CROMWELL</span>.</i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[355]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>XXIII. BUTTERFLIES IN THE FELLS</h3> +<br /> + +<p>Above all other Saints in the Calendar, the good people of +Newcastle-upon-Tyne do hold in highest honour Saint Nicholas, since to +him is dedicated the stately Church that is the pride and glory of +their town. Everyone who dwells in the bonnie North Countrie knows +well that shrine of Saint Nicholas, set on high on the steep northern +bank of the River Tyne. Beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole +North, is St. Nicholas. Therefore, in olden times, one Roger Thornton, +a wealthy merchant of the town, saw fit to embellish it yet further +with a window at the Eastern end, of glass stained with colours +marvellous to behold. Men said indeed that Merchant Roger clearly owed +that window to the Saint, seeing that when he first entered the town +scarce a dozen years before, he came but as a poor pedlar, possessed +of naught but 'a hap, a halfpenny, and a lambskin,' whereas these few +years spent under the shadow of the Saint's protection had made him +already a man of great estate.</p> + +<p>Roger Thornton it was who gave the Eastern window to the Church, but +none know now, for certain, who first embellished the shrine with its +crowning gift, the tall steeple that gathers to itself not only the +affection of all those who dwell beneath its shadow, but also their +glory and their pride. Some believe it was built by King David of +Scotland: others by one Robert de Rede, since his name may still be +seen carven upon the stone by him who has skill to look. But in truth +the architect hath carried both his name <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[356]</a></span>and his secret with him, and +the craftsmen of many another larger and more famous city have sought +in vain to build such another tower. By London Bridge and again at +Edinburgh, in the capitals of two fair kingdoms, may indeed be seen a +steeple built in like fashion, but far less fair. One man alone, he +whose very name hath been forgotten, hath known how to swing with +perfect grace a pinnacled Crown, formed of stone yet delicate as +lacework, aloft in highest air. Therefore to this day doth the Lantern +Tower of St. Nicholas remain without a peer.</p> + +<p>A Lantern Tower the learned call it, and indeed the semblance of an +open lantern doth rise, supported by pinnacles, in the centre of the +Tower; but to most men it resembles less a lantern than an Imperial +crown swung high in air, under a canopy of dazzling blue. It is a +golden crown in the daytime, as it shines on high above the hum of the +city streets in the clear mid-day light. It becomes a fiery crown when +the sun sets, for then the golden fleurs-de-lys on each of the eight +golden vanes atop of the pinnacles gleam and glow like sparks of +flame, climbing higher and ever higher into the steep and burnished +air. But it is a jewelled crown that shines by night over the +slumbering town beneath; for then the turrets and pinnacles are gemmed +with glittering stars.</p> + +<p>That Tower, to those who have been born under it, is one of the +dearest things upon this earth. Judge then of the dismay that was +caused to every man, woman, and child, when Newcastle was being +besieged by the Scottish army during the Civil Wars, at the message +that came from the general of the beleaguering army, that were the +town not surrendered <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[357]</a></span>to him without delay, he would train his guns on +the Tower of St. Nicholas itself, and lay that first in ruins. Happily +Sir John Marley, the English Commander, who was likewise Mayor of the +Town, was more than a match for the canny Scot. And this was the +answer that the gallant Sir John sent back from the beleaguered town: +that General Leslie might train his guns on the Tower and welcome, if +such were his pleasure, but if he did so, before he brought down one +single stone of it, he would be obliged to take the lives of his own +Scottish prisoners, whom the guns would find as their first target +there.</p> + +<p>Sir John was as good as his word. The Scottish prisoners were strung +out in companies along the Tower ledges, and kept there day after day, +till the Scottish Army had retreated, baffled for that time, and St. +Nicholas was saved. Therefore, thanks to Sir John Marley and his +nimble wit, the pinnacled Crown still soars up aloft into the sky, +keeping guard over the city of Newcastle to-day, as it hath done +throughout the centuries.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p>Little did the Friends, who came to Newcastle a few years after the +Scotsmen had departed, regard the beauty of St. Nicholas or its Tower. +They came also desiring to besiege the town, though with only +spiritual weapons. The Church to them was but a 'steeple-house,' and +the Tower akin to an idol. Thus slowly do men learn that 'the ways +unto God are as the number of the souls of the children of men,' and +that wherever a man truly seeketh God in whatsoever fashion, so he do +but seek honestly and with his whole heart, God will consent to be +found of him.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[358]</a></span>Yet though the Friends who came to Newcastle came truly to besiege the +town for love's sake, not with love did the town receive them. +'Ruddy-faced John Audland' was the first to come, he who had been one +of the preachers that memorable Sunday at Firbank Chapel, and who, +having yielded place to George Fox, had been in his turn mightily +convinced of Truth. 'A man beloved of God, and of all good men,' was +John Audland, 'of an exceedingly sweet disposition, unspeakably loving +and tenderly affectionate, always ready to lend a helping hand to the +weak and needy, open-hearted, free and near to his friends, deep in +the understanding of the heavenly mysteries.' Yet little all this +availed him. In Newcastle as elsewhere he preached the Truth, 'full of +dread and shining brightness on his countenance.' Certain of the +townsfolk gathered themselves unto him and became Friends, but the +authorities would have none of the new doctrine, and straightway +clapped him into gaol. There he lay for a time, till at last he was +set free and went his way.</p> + +<p>After him came George Fox, when some thirteen years had gone by since +Sir John Marley saved the Tower, and General Leslie had returned +discomfited to Edinburgh. From Edinburgh, too, George Fox had come on +his homeward way after that eventful journey to the Northern Kingdom, +when 'the infinite sparks of life sparkled about him as soon as his +horse set foot across the Border.' Weary he was of riding when he +reached the gates of Newcastle-upon-Tyne. Yet 'gladded' in his heart +was he, for as he had passed by Berwick-upon-Tweed, the Governor there +had 'shewn himself loving towards Friends,' and, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[359]</a></span>though only a little +Meeting had been gathered, 'the Lord's power had been over all.' As +Fox and his companion rode through the woods and beside the yellow +brown streams and over the heathery moors of Northumberland, they +found and visited many scattered Friends whose welcome had made George +Fox's heart rejoice. But no sooner had he entered the town than all +his gladness left him, at the grievous tale the faithful Friends of +Newcastle had to tell. Ever since John Audland's preaching had stirred +the souls of the townsfolk, the priests and professors had done their +best to prevent 'this pernicious poison from spreading.' Five +Newcastle priests had written a book, entitled 'the Perfect Pharisee +under Monkish Holiness,' in which they blamed Friends for many things, +but above all for their custom of preaching in the streets and open +places. 'It is a pestilent heresy at best,' they said (though they +used not these very words), 'yet did they keep it to themselves 'twere +no great harm, but we find no place hears so much of Friends' religion +as streets and market-places.'</p> + +<p>Yet even so their witness agreed not together. For while the priests +accused Friends of too much preaching in public, a certain Alderman of +the city, Thomas Ledger by name, put forth three other books against +them. And his main charge was this—'<span class="fakesc">THAT THE QUAKERS WOULD NOT +COME INTO ANY GREAT TOWNS, BUT LIVED IN THE FELLS LIKE +BUTTERFLIES</span>.'</p> + +<p>George Fox, hearing these things from the Friends assembled to greet +him at the entrance to the town, was tried in his spirit, and +determined that the matter should be dealt with, without more ado. The +Journal <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[360]</a></span>saith: 'The Newcastle priests wrote many books against us, +and one Ledger, an Alderman of the town, was very envious of truth and +friends. He and the priests had said, "the Quakers would not come into +great towns, but lived in the fells like butterflies." I took Anthony +Pearson with me and went to this Ledger, and several others of the +Aldermen, desiring to have a meeting among them, seeing they had +written so many things against us: for we were now come, I told them, +into their great town. But they would not yield we should have a +meeting, neither would they be spoke with, save only this Ledger and +one other. I queried: "Had they not called Friends Butterflies, and +said we would not come into any great towns? And now they would not +come at us, though they had printed books against us; <span class="fakesc">WHO ARE THE +BUTTERFLIES NOW</span>?"</p> + +<p>'As we could not have a public meeting amongst them we got a little +meeting amongst friends and friendly people at the Gate-side. As I was +passing by the market-side, the power of the Lord rose in me, to warn +them of the day of the Lord that was coming upon them. And not long +after all the priests were turned out of their profession, when the +King came in.'</p> + +<p>Thus did those same envious priests, who had accused Friends of living +like butterflies in the fells, become themselves as butterflies, being +chased out of the great town, and forced to flit to and fro in the +open country. The Friends, meanwhile, increased on both sides of the +river Tyne. In 1657 George Whitehead visited Newcastle, and was kindly +received in the house of one John Dove, who had been a Lieutenant in +the army before he became a Friend.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[361]</a></span>Whitehead, himself one of the 'Valiant Sixty,' writes:—'The Mayor of +the town (influenced by the priests), would not suffer us to keep any +meeting within the Liberty of the Town, though in Gate-side (being out +of the Mayor's Liberty), our Friends had settled a meeting at our +beloved Friend Richard Ubank's house.... The first meeting we then +endeavoured to have within the town of Newcastle was in a large room +taken on purpose by some Friends.... The meeting was not fully +gathered when the Mayor of the Town and his Officers came, and by +force turned us out of the meeting; and not only so, but out of the +Town also; for the Mayor and his Company commanded us and went along +with us as far as the Bridge over the river Tine that parts Newcastle +and Gates-head, upon which Bridge there is a Blew Stone to which the +Mayor's Liberty extends; when we came to the stone, the Mayor gave his +charge to each of us in these words: "I charge and command you in the +name of His Highness the Lord Protector. That you come no more into +Newcastle to have any more meetings there at your peril.'"</p> + +<p>The Friends, therefore, continued to meet at the place that is called +Gateside (though some say that Goat's head was the name of it at +first), and there they remained till, after divers persecutions, they +were at length suffered to assemble within the walls of Newcastle +itself, upon the north side of the 'Blew Stone' above the River Tyne. +Here, in 1698, they bought a plot of ground, within a stone's-throw of +St. Nicholas, facing towards the street that the townsmen call Pilgrim +Street, since thither in olden days did many weary pilgrims wend their +way, seeking to come unto <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[362]</a></span>the Mound of Jesu on the outskirts of the +town. And that same Mound of Jesu is now called by men, Jesu Mond, or +shorter, Jesmond, and no longer is it the resort of pilgrims, but +rather of merchants and pleasure seekers. Yet still beside the Pilgrim +Street stands the Meeting-House built by those other pilgrim souls, +those Quakers, whom the men of the town in scorn called 'butterflies.' +And there, so far from flitting over the fells, they have continued to +hold their Meetings and worship God after their own fashion within +those walls for more than two hundred years.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p>Before ever this had come to pass, and while the Quakers of Newcastle +were still without an assembling place on their own side of the river, +it happened that a certain man among them, named Robert Jeckel, being +nigh unto death (though as yet he knew it not), was seized with a +vehement desire to behold George Fox yet once more in the flesh, since +full sixteen years had gone by since his visit to the town.</p> + +<p>Wherefore this same Robert Jeckel, hearing that his beloved friend was +now again to be found at Swarthmoor, dwelling there in much seclusion, +seeking to regain the strength that had been sorely wasted in long and +terrible imprisonments,—this man, Robert Jeckel, would no longer be +persuaded or gainsaid, but set out at once with several others, who +were like-minded and desirous to come as speedily as might be to +Swarthmoor.</p> + +<p>In good heart they set forth, but that same day, and before they had +come even as far as unto Hexham, Robert Jeckel was seized with a sore +sickness, whereat his friends entreated him to return the way he came +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[363]</a></span>to his own home and tender wife. But he refused to be dissuaded and +would still press forward. At many other places by the way he was ill +and suffering, yet he would not be satisfied to turn back or to stop +until he should arrive at Swarthmoor. And thither after many days of +sore travel he came.</p> + +<p>The Mistress of Swarthmoor was now no longer Margaret Fell but +Margaret Fox. Eight full years after the death of her honoured +husband, Judge Fell, and after long waiting to be sure that the thing +was from the Lord, she had been united in marriage with her beloved +friend, George Fox, unto whom she was ever a most loving and dutiful +wife. Therefore, when Robert Jeckel arrived with his friends before +the high arched stone gateway that led into the avenue that +approacheth Swarthmoor Hall, it was Mistress Fox, who, with her +husband, came to meet their guests. Close behind followed her youngest +daughter, Rachel Fell, the Seventh Sister of Swarthmoor Hall. She, the +Judge's pet and plaything in her childhood, was now a woman grown. +Seeing by Robert Jeckel's countenance that he was sorely stricken, +Mistress Fox led him straight to the fair guest chamber of Swarthmoor, +where she and her daughter nursed him with their wonted tenderness and +skill, hoping thus, if it might be, to restore him to his home in +peace. But it had been otherwise ordained, for Robert Jeckel, arriving +at Swarthmoor on the second day of the fifth month that men call July, +lay sick there but for nine days and then he died.</p> + +<p>During his illness many and good words did he say, among others these: +'Though I was persuaded to stay by the way (being indisposed), before +I came <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[364]</a></span>to this place, yet this was the place where I would have been, +and the place where I should be, whether I live or die.'</p> + +<p>George Fox, being himself, as I say, weakened by his long suffering in +Worcester Gaol, was yet able to visit Robert Jeckel as he lay a-dying, +and exhorted him to offer up his soul and spirit to the Lord, who +gives life and breath to all and takes it again. Whereupon Robert +Jeckel lifted up his hands and said, 'The Lord is worthy of it, and I +have done it.' George Fox then asked him if he could say, 'Thy will, +oh God, be done on earth as it is in heaven,' and he, lifting up his +hands again, and looking upwards with his eyes, answered cheerfully, +'he did it.'</p> + +<p>Then, he in his turn, exhorting those about him, said: 'Dear Friends, +dwell in love and unity together, and keep out of jars, strife, and +contentions, and be sure to continue faithful to the end.' And +speaking of his wife, he said, 'As to my wife, I give her up freely to +the Lord; for she loveth the Lord and He will love her. I have often +told my dear wife, as to what we have of outward things, it was the +Lord's first before it was ours; and in that I desire she may serve +the truth to the end of her days.'</p> + +<p>'In much patience the Lord did keep him, and he was in perfect sense +and memory all the time of his weakness, often saying, "Dear Friends, +give me up and weep not for me, for I am content with the Lord's +doings." And often said that he had no pain, but gradually declined, +often lifting up his hands while he had strength, praising the Lord, +and made a comfortable end on the 11th day of the fifth month, 1676.'</p> + +<p>Thus did the joyful spirit of this dear friend at last <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[365]</a></span>take flight +for the Heavenly Country, when, as he said himself in his sickness, +'Soul separated from body, the Spirit returning to God that gave it, +and the body to the earth from whence it came.'</p> + +<p>Yea, verily; his soul took flight for the Heavenly Country, happier in +its escape from the worn chrysalis of his weak and weary body than any +glad-winged butterfly that flitteth over the fells of his own beloved +Northumberland.</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[366]</a></span><br /> +<a name="XXIV_THE_VICTORY_OF_AMOR_STODDART" id="XXIV_THE_VICTORY_OF_AMOR_STODDART"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[367]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>XXIV. THE VICTORY OF AMOR STODDART</h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'From the heart of the Puritan<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[368]</a></span> +sects sprang the religion of the +Quakers, in which many a war-worn +soldier of the Commonwealth closed +his visionary eyes.'<span class="fakesc">—G.M. +TREVELYAN</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'To be a man of war means to live +no longer than the life of the +world, which is perishing; but to +be a man of the Holy Spirit, a man +born of God, a man that wars not +after the flesh, a man of the +Kingdom of God, as well as of +England—that means to live beyond +time and age and men and the +world, to be gathered into that +life which is Eternal.'<span class="fakesc">—JOHN SALTMARSH</span>, 1647.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Keep out of all jangling, for +all that are in the transgression +are out from the law of love; but +all that are in the law of love +come to the Lamb's +power.'<span class="fakesc">—G. FOX</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'He changed his weapons, warfare, +and Captain ... when he 'listed +himself under the banner of +Christ.'<span class="fakesc">—W. PENN</span>, +about J. Whitehead.</i></p></div> + +<div class="block"><p class="cen" style="margin-bottom: .1em;"><i>A prayer for the soldier spirit.</i></p> +<p class="noin" style="margin-top: .1em;"><i>'Teach us, good Lord, to serve +Thee as Thou deservest: to give +and not to count the cost; to +fight and not to heed the wounds; +to toil and not to seek for rest; +to labour and not to ask for any +reward, save that of knowing that +we do Thy will: through Jesus +Christ our Lord.'<span class="fakesc">—IGNATIUS LOYOLA</span>.</i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[369]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>XXIV. THE VICTORY OF AMOR STODDART</h3> + +<div class="block"><p class="noin" style="margin-bottom: .1em;">'Christ disarmed Peter, and in so doing He unbuckled the sword +of every soldier.'</p> + +<p class="right fakesc" style="margin-top: .1em;">TERTULLIAN.</p></div> + +<br /> + +<p>A dauntless fighter in his day was Captain Amor Stoddart, seeing he +had served in the Parliamentary Army throughout the Civil Wars. In +truth, it was no child's play to command a body of men as tough as +Oliver's famous Ironsides. Therefore Captain Stoddart had doubtless +come through many a bloody struggle, and fought in many a hardly +fought contest during those long wars, before the final victory was +won.</p> + +<p>But now, not a single memory remains of his small individual share in +those</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0a">'Old unhappy, far-off things,<br /></span> +<span class="i0a">And battles long ago.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>His story has come down to us as a staunch comrade and a valiant +fighter, in a different kind of warfare. His victory was won in a +struggle in which all the visible weapons were on the other side; +when, through long years, he had only the armour of meekness and of +love wherewith to oppose hardship and violence and wrong.</p> + +<p>Wherefore, of this fight and of this victory, his own name remains as +a symbol and a sign. Not in vain was he called at his birth 'Amor,' +which, in the Latin tongue signifies 'Love,' as all men know.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[370]</a></span>The first meeting between Captain Amor Stoddart and him who was to be +thereafter his spirit's earthly captain in the new strange warfare +that lay before him, happened on this wise.</p> + +<p>In the year 1648, when the long Civil Wars were at last nearing their +close, George Fox visited Mansfield in Nottinghamshire and held a +meeting with the professors (that is to say the Puritans) there. It +was in that same year of 1648, when every day the shadow was drawing +nearer of the fatal scaffold that should be erected within the Palace +at Whitehall the following January. But although that shadow crept +daily nearer, men, for the most part, as yet perceived it not. Fox +himself was at this time still young, as years are counted, being only +twenty-four years of age. Four other summers were yet to pass before +that memorable day when he should climb to the summit of old Pendle +Hill, and, after seeing there the vision of a 'great people to be +gathered,' should begin himself to gather them at Firbank and +Swarthmoor and many another place.</p> + +<p>George, though still young in years, was already possessed not only of +a strange and wonderful presence, but also of a gift to perceive and +to draw the souls of other men, and to knit them to his own.</p> + +<p>'I went again to Mansfield,' he says in his Journal, 'where was a +Great Meeting of professors and people, where I was moved to pray; and +the Lord's power was so great that the house seemed to be shaken. When +I had done, one of the professors said, "It was now as in the days of +the Apostles, when the house was shaken where they were."'</p> + +<p>After Fox had finished praying, with this <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[371]</a></span>vehemence that seemed to +shake the house, one of the professors began to pray in his turn, but +in such a dead and formal way that even the other professors were +grieved thereat and rebuked him. Whereupon this praying professor came +in all humility to Fox, beseeching him that he would pray again. +'But,' says Fox, 'I could not pray in any man's will.' Still, though +he could not make a prayer to order, he agreed to meet with these same +professors another day.</p> + +<p>This second meeting was another 'Great Meeting.' From far and wide the +professors and people gathered to see the man who had learnt to pray. +But the professors did not truly seem to care to learn the secret. +They went on talking and arguing together. They were 'jangling,' as +Fox calls it (that is to say, using endless strings of words to talk +about sacred things, without really feeling the truth of them in their +hearts), jangling all together, when suddenly the door opened and a +grave young officer walked in. ''Tis Captain Amor Stoddart, of Noll's +Army,' the professors said one to another, as, hardly stopping for a +moment at the stranger's entrance, they continued to 'jangle' among +themselves. They went on, speaking of the most holy things, talking +even about the blood of Christ, without any feeling of solemnity, till +Fox could bear it no longer.</p> + +<p>'As they were discoursing of it,' he says, 'I saw through the +immediate opening of the invisible Spirit, the blood of Christ; and +cried out among them saying, "Do you not see the blood of Christ? See +it in your hearts, to sprinkle your hearts and consciences from dead +works to serve the living God?" For I saw the b<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[372]</a></span>lood of the New +Covenant how it came into the heart. This startled the professors who +would have the blood only without them, and not in them. But Captain +Stoddart was reached, and said, "Let the youth speak, hear the youth +speak," when he saw that they endeavoured to bear me down with many +words.'</p> + +<p>'Captain Stoddart was reached.' He, the soldier, accustomed to the +terrible realities of a battlefield, knew the sight of blood for +himself only too well. George Fox's words may seem perhaps mysterious +to us now, but they came home to Amor and made him able to see +something of the same vision that Fox saw. We may not be able to see +that vision ourselves, but at least we can feel the difference between +having the Blood of Christ, that is the Life of Christ, within our +hearts, and only talking and 'jangling' about it, as the professors +were doing. 'Captain Stoddart was reached.' Having been 'reached,' +having seen, if only for one moment, something of what the Cross had +meant to Christ, and having felt His Life within, Amor became a +different man. To take the lives of his fellowmen, to shed their blood +for whom that Blood had been shed, was henceforth for him impossible. +He unbuckled his sword, and resigning his captaincy in Oliver's +conquering army, just when victory was at hand after the stern +struggle, he followed his despised Quaker teacher into obscurity.</p> + +<p>For seven long years we hear nothing more of him. Then he appears +again at George Fox's side, no longer Captain Stoddart the Officer, +but plain Amor Stoddart, a comrade and helper of the first Publishers +of Truth.</p> + +<p>In the year 1655, Fox's Journal records: 'On the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[373]</a></span>sixth day I had a +large meeting near Colchester<a name="FNanchor_33_33" id="FNanchor_33_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_33_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a> to which many professors and the +Independent teachers came. After I had done speaking and was stepped +down from the place on which I stood, one of the Independent teachers +began to make a "jangling" [it seems they still went on jangling, even +after seven long years!], which Amor Stoddart perceiving said, "Stand +up again, George!" for I was going away and did not at the first hear +them.'</p> + +<p>If Amor Stoddart had unbuckled his sword, evidently he had not lost +the power of grappling with difficulties, of swiftly seeing the right +thing to do, and of giving his orders with soldier-like precision.</p> + +<p>'Stand up again, George!'—a quick, military command, in the fewest +possible words. George Fox was more in the habit of commanding other +people than of being commanded himself; but he knew his comrade and +obeyed without a word.</p> + +<p>'I stood up again,' he says, 'when I heard the Independent [the man +who had been jangling], and after a while the Lord's power came over +him and all his company, who were confounded, and the Lord's truth was +over all. A great flock of sheep hath the Lord in that country that +feed in His pastures of life.'</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, without Amor Stoddart the sheep would have gone away +hungry, and would not have been fed at that meeting.</p> + +<p>Again we hear of Amor a little later in the same year, still at George +Fox's side, but this time not as a passive spectator, nor even merely +as a resourceful comrade. He was now himself to be a sufferer for the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[374]</a></span>Truth. He still lives for us through his share in a strange but +wonderful scene of George Fox's life. A few months after the meeting +at Colchester, the two friends visited Cambridge, and 'there,' says +Fox in his Journal, 'the scholars, hearing of me, were up and were +exceeding rude. I kept on my horse's back and rode through them in the +Lord's power. "Oh," said they, "<span class="fakesc">HE SHINES, HE GLISTERS</span>," +but they unhorsed Amor Stoddart before we could get to the inn. When +we were in the inn they were so rude in the courts and the streets, so +that the miners, colliers, and carters could never be ruder. And the +people of the inn asked us 'what we would have for supper' as is the +way of inns. "Supper," said I, "were it not that the Lord's power is +over them, these rude scholars look as if they would pluck us in +pieces and make a supper of us!"'</p> + +<p>After this treatment, the two friends might have been expected to keep +away from Cambridge in the future; but that was not their way. Where +the fight was hottest, there these two faithful soldiers of the Cross +were sure to be found. The very next year saw Fox back in +Cambridgeshire once more; and again Amor Stoddart was with him, +standing by his side and sharing all dangers like a valiant and +faithful friend.</p> + +<p>'I passed into Cambridgeshire,' the Journal continues, 'and into the +fen country, where I had many meetings, and the Lord's truth spread. +Robert Craven, who had been Sheriff of Lincoln, was with me [it would +be interesting to know more about Robert Craven, and where and how he +was "reached"], and Amor Stoddart and Alexander Parker. We went to +Crowland, a very rude place; for the townspeople were <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[375]</a></span>got together at +the inn we went to, and were half drunk, both priest and people. I +reproved them for their drunkenness and warned them of the day of the +Lord that was coming upon all the wicked; exhorting them to leave +their wickedness and to turn to the Lord in time. While I was thus +speaking to them the priest and the clerk broke out into a rage, and +got up the tongs and fire-shovel at us, so that had not the Lord's +power preserved us we might have been murdered amongst them. Yet, for +all their rudeness and violence, some received the truth then, and +have stood in it ever since.'</p> + +<p>George Fox was not the only man to find a faithful and staunch +supporter in Amor Stoddart. There is another glimpse of him, again +standing at a comrade's side in time of danger, but the comrade in +this case is not Fox but 'dear William Dewsbury,' one of the best +loved of all the early Friends.</p> + +<p>Amor Stoddart was Dewsbury's companion that sore day at Bristol when +the tidings came from New England overseas, that the first two Quaker +Martyrs, William Robinson and Marmaduke Stevenson, had been hanged for +their faith on Boston Common. Heavy at heart were the Bristol Friends +at the news, and not they only, for assembled with them were some New +England Friends who had been banished from their families and from +their homes, under pain of the same death that the martyrs had +suffered.</p> + +<p>'We were bowed down unto our God,' Dewsbury writes, 'and prayer was +made unto Him when there came a knocking at the door. It came upon my +spirit that it was the rude people, and the life of God did mightily +arise, and they had no power to come in until <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[376]</a></span>we were clear before +our God. Then they came in, setting the house about with muskets and +lighted matches. So after a season of this they came into the room, +where I was and Amor Stoddart with me. I looked upon them when they +came into the room, and they cried as fast as they could well speak, +"We will be civil! We will be civil!"</p> + +<p>'I spoke these words, "See that you be so." They ran forth out of the +room and came no more into it, but ran up and down in the house with +their weapons in their hands, and the Lord God caused their hearts to +fail and they passed away, and not any harm done to any of us.'</p> + +<p>Eleven years after this pass in almost complete silence, as far as +Amor is concerned. Occasionally we hear the bare mention of his name +among the London Friends. One short entry in Fox's Journal speaks of +him as having 'buried his wife.' Then the veil lifts again and shows +one more glimpse of him. It is the last.</p> + +<p>In 1670, twenty-two years after that first meeting at Mansfield, when +Captain Stoddart came into the room, and said, 'Let the youth speak,' +George Fox, now a man worn with his sufferings and service, came into +another room to bid farewell to his old comrade as he lay a-dying. Fox +himself had been brought near to death not long before, but he knew +that his work was not yet wholly finished, he was not yet 'fully +clear' in his Master's sight.</p> + +<p>'Under great sufferings, sorrows, and oppressions I lay several +weeks,' he writes in his Journal, 'whereby I was brought so low that +few thought I could live. When those about me had given me up to die, +I spoke <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[377]</a></span>to them to get me a coach to carry me to Gerard Roberts, +about twelve miles off, for I found it was my place to go thither. So +I went down a pair of stairs to the coach, and when I came to the +coach I was like to have fallen down, I was so weak and feeble, but I +got up into the coach, and some friends with me. When I came to +Gerard's, after I had stayed about three weeks there, it was with me +to go to Enfield. Friends were afraid of my removing, but I told them +that I might safely go. When I had taken my leave of Gerard and had +come to Enfield, I went first to visit Amor Stoddart, who lay very +weak and almost speechless. I was moved to tell him "that he had been +faithful as a man and faithful to God, and the immortal Seed of Life +was his crown." Many more words I was moved to speak to him, though I +was then so weak, I could scarcely stand, and within a few days after, +Amor died.'</p> + +<p>That is all. Very simply he passes out of sight, having heard his +comrade's 'well done':—this valiant soldier who renounced his sword.</p> + +<p>His name, AMOR, still holds the secret of his power, his silent +patience, and of his victory, for</p> + +<p class="cen fakesc">'OMNIA VINCIT AMOR.'</p> + +<br /> +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<br /> + +<h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_33_33" id="Footnote_33_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> It was on this visit to Colchester that George Fox had +his farewell interview with James Parnell, imprisoned in the +Castle.</p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[378]</a></span><br /> +<a name="XXV_THE_MARVELLOUS_VOYAGE" id="XXV_THE_MARVELLOUS_VOYAGE"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[379]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>XXV. THE MARVELLOUS VOYAGE <br />OF THE GOOD SHIP 'WOODHOUSE'<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'In the 17th Century England was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[380]</a></span> +peculiarly rich, if not in great +mystics, at any rate in mystically +minded men. Mysticism, it seems, +was in the air; broke out under +many disguises and affected many +forms of life.'<span class="fakesc">—E. +UNDERHILL</span>, 'Mysticism.'</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'He who says "Yes," responds, +obeys, co-operates, and allows +this resident seed of God, or +Christ Light, to have full sway in +him, becomes transformed thereby +and recreated into likeness to +Christ by whom the inner seed was +planted, and of whose nature it +is.'<span class="fakesc">—RUFUS M. JONES.</span></i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Through winds and tides, one +compass guides.'<span class="fakesc">—A.H. +CLOUGH.</span></i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Have mercy upon me, O God, for +Thine ocean is so great, and my +little bark is so small.'—Breton +Fisherman's Prayer.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Be faithful and still, till the +winds cease and the storm be +over.' ... 'Friends' fellowship +must be in the Spirit, and all +Friends must know one another in +the Spirit and power of +God.'<span class="fakesc">—G. FOX.</span></i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Christopher Holder and I are +going ... in obedience to the will +of our God, whose will is our +joy.'—<span class="fakesc">JOHN COPELAND.</span> +1657.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'The log of the little +"Woodhouse" has become a sacred +classic.'<span class="fakesc">—WILLIAM +LITTLEBOY</span>, Swarthmoor +Lecture, 1917.</i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[381]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>XXV. THE MARVELLOUS VOYAGE <br />OF THE GOOD SHIP 'WOODHOUSE'</h3> +<br /> + +<p>Master Robert Fowler of Burlington was a well-known figure in all the +fishing towns and villages along the Yorkshire coast in the year of +grace 1657. A man of substance was he, a master mariner, well skilled +in his craft; building his own ships and sailing them withal, and +never to be turned back from an adventurous voyage. Many fine vessels +he had, sailing over the broad waters, taking the Yorkshire cargoes of +wool and hides to distant lands, and bringing back foreign goods in +exchange, to be sold again at a profit on his return to old England's +shores. Thus up and down the Yorkshire coast men spoke and thought +highly of Master Robert Fowler's judgment in all matters pertaining to +the sea. On land, too, he seemed prudent and skilful, though some +folks looked at him askance of late years, since he had joined himself +to that strange and perverse people known as the Quakers.</p> + +<p>Yet, in spite of what his neighbours considered his new-fangled +religion, Master Robert Fowler was prospering in all his worldly +affairs. Even now on the sunny day when our story opens, he was hard +at work putting the last touches to a new boat of graceful proportions +and gallant curves, that bade fair to be a yet more notable seafarer +than any of her distant sisters.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[382]</a></span>Why then did Master Robert Fowler pause more than once in his work to +heave a deep sigh, and throw down his tools almost pettishly? Why did +he suddenly put his fingers in his ears as if to shut out an unwelcome +sound, resuming his work thereafter with double speed? No one was +speaking to him. The mid-day air was very still. The haze that often +broods over the north-east coast veiled the horizon. Sea and sky +melted into one another till it was impossible to say where earth +ended and heaven began. An unwonted silence reigned even on Burlington +Quay. No sound was to be heard save for the tap, tap, tap of Master +Robert Fowler's hammer.</p> + +<p>Again he dropped his tools. Again he looked up to the sky, as if he +were listening to an unseen voice.</p> + +<p>Someone was truly speaking to him, though no faintest sound vibrated +on the air. His inward ear heard clearly these words—</p> + +<p class="cen2 fakesc">'THOU HAST HER NOT FOR NOTHING.'</p> + +<p>His eyes travelled proudly over the nearly completed vessel. Every one +of her swelling curves he knew by heart; had learned to know and love +through long months of toil. How still she lay, the beauty, still as a +bird, poising on the sea. Ah! but the day was coming when she would +spread her wings and skim over the ocean, buoyant and dainty as one of +the terns, those sea-swallows that with their sharp white wings even +now were hovering round her. Built for use she was too, not merely to +take the eye. Although small of size more bales of goods could be +stowed away under her shapely decks than in many another larger +clumsier vessel. Who should know this better than Robert, her maker, +who had planned it all?</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[383]</a></span>For what had he planned her?</p> + +<p>Was it for the voyage to the Eastern Mediterranean that had been the +desire of his heart for many years? How well he knew it, that voyage +he had never made! Down the Channel he would go, past Ushant and +safely across the Bay. Then, when Finisterre had dropped to leeward, +it would be but a few days' sail along the pleasant coasts of Portugal +till Gibraltar was reached. And then, heigh ho! for a fair voyage in +the summer season, week after week over a calm blue sea to the +land-locked harbour where flat-roofed, white-walled houses, stately +palm-trees, rosy domes and minarets, mirrored in the still water, +gazed down at their own reflections.</p> + +<p>Was the <i>Woodhouse</i> for this?</p> + +<p>He had planned her for this dream voyage.</p> + +<p>Why then came that other Voice in his heart directly he began to +build: '<span class="fakesc">FASHION THEE A SHIP FOR THE SERVICE OF TRUTH</span>!' And +now that she was nearly completed, why did the Voice grow daily more +insistent, giving ever clearer directions?</p> + +<p>What a bird she was! His own bird of the sea, his beautiful +<i>Woodhouse</i>! So thought Master Robert Fowler. But then again came the +insistent Voice within, speaking yet more clearly and distinctly than +ever before: '<span class="fakesc">THOU HAST HER NOT FOR NOTHING</span>.'</p> + +<p>The vision of his sea-swallow, her white wings gleaming in the sun as +she dropped anchor in that still harbour; the vision of the white and +rose-coloured city stretched like an encircling arm around the +turquoise waters, these dreams faded relentlessly from his sight. +Instead he saw the <i>Woodhouse</i> beating up wearily against a bleak and +rugged shore <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[384]</a></span>on which grey waves were breaking. Angry, white teeth +those giant breakers showed; teeth that would grind a dainty boat to +pieces with no more compunction than a dog who snaps at a fly. Must he +take her there? A vision of that inhospitable shore was constantly +with him as he worked. 'New England was presented before him.' Day +after day he drove the thought from him. Night after night it +returned.</p> + +<p>'Thou hast her not for nothing. She is needed for the service of +Truth.' Master Robert Fowler grew lean and wan with inward struggle, +but yield his will he could not, yet disobey the Voice he did not +dare. When his wife and children asked what ailed him he answered not, +or gave a surly reply. Truth to tell, he avoided their company all he +could,—and yet a look was in his eyes when they did not notice as if +he had never before felt them half so dear. At length the +long-expected day arrived when the completed vessel sailed graciously +out to sea. But there was no gaiety on board, as there had been when +her sister ships had departed. No cargo had she. No farewells were +said. Master Robert Fowler stole aboard when all beside were sleeping. +The <i>Woodhouse</i> slipped from the grey harbour into the grey sea, +noiselessly as a bird. None of the crew knew what ailed the master, +nor why his door was locked for long hours thereafter, until the +Yorkshire coast first drew dim, and then faded from the horizon. He +would not even tell them whither the vessel was bound. 'Keep a +straight course; come back at four bells, and then I will direct you,' +was all his answer, when the mate knocked at his door for orders.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[385]</a></span>But within the cabin a man was wrestling with himself upon his knees; +till at last in agony he cried: 'E'en take the boat, Lord, an so Thou +wilt, for I have no power to give her Thee. Yet truly she is Thine.'</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p>At that same hour in London an anxious little company was gathered in +a house at the back side of Thomas Apostles Church, over the door of +which swung the well-known sign of the Fleur-de-luce.</p> + +<p>The master of the house, Friend Gerard Roberts, a merchant of Watling +Street, sat at the top of the table in a small upper room. The anxiety +on his countenance was reflected in the faces round his board. Seven +men and four women were there, all soberly clad as befitted +ministering Friends. They were not eating or drinking, but solemnly +seeking for guidance.</p> + +<p>'Can no ship then be found to carry us to the other side? For truly +the Lord's word is as a fire and hammer in me, though in the outward +appearance there is no likelihood of getting passage,' one Friend was +saying.</p> + +<p>'Ships in plenty there are bound for New England, but ne'er a one that +is willing to carry even one Quaker, let alone eleven,' Friend Roberts +answered. 'The colonists' new laws are strict, and their punishments +are savage. I know, Friends, ye are all ready, aye and willing, to +suffer in the service of Truth. It is not merely the threatened +cropping of the ears of every Quaker who sets foot ashore that is the +difficulty. It is the one hundred pounds fine for every Quaker landed, +not levied on the Friends themselves, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[386]</a></span>mind you—that were simple—but +on the owner of the boat in which they shall have voyaged. This it is +that hinders your departure. It were not fair to ask a man to run such +risk. It is not fair. Yet already I have asked many in vain. Way doth +not open. We must needs leave it, and see if the concern abides.'</p> + +<p>Clear as a bell rose the silvery tones of a young woman Friend, one +who had been formerly a serving-maid at Cammsgill Farm: 'Commit thy +way unto the Lord, trust also in Him, and He shall bring it to pass. +Shall not He who setteth a bound to the sea that it shall not pass +over, and taketh up the isles as a very little thing—shall not He be +trusted to find a ship for His servants who trust in Him, to enable +them to perform His will?' As the clear bell-like tones died away the +little company, impelled by a united instinct, sank into a silence in +which time passed unnoticed. Suddenly, at the same moment, a weight +seemed to be removed from the hearts of all. They clasped hands and +separated. And at that very moment, although they knew it not, far +away on the broad seas, a man, wrestling on his knees in the cabin of +his vessel, was saying with bitter tears, 'E'en take, Lord, an so Thou +wilt, though I have no power to give her to Thee. Yet truly she is +Thine.' When four bells were sounded on the good ship <i>Woodhouse</i>, and +a knock came to the door of the cabin as the mate asked for +directions, it was in a steady voice that Master Robert Fowler replied +from within, 'Mark a straight course for London; and +after—whithersoever the Lord may direct.'</p> + +<p>Blithely and gaily henceforward the <i>Woodhouse</i> skimmed her way to the +mouth of the Thames and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[387]</a></span>dropped anchor at the port of London. But as +yet Master Robert Fowler knew nothing of the anxious group of Friends +waiting to be taken to New England on the service of Truth (five of +them having already been deported thence for the offence of being +Quakers, yet anxious to return and take six others with them). Neither +did these Friends know anything of Master Robert Fowler, nor of his +good ship <i>Woodhouse</i>.</p> + +<p>Yet, though unknown to each other, he and they alike were well known +to One Heart, were guided by One Hand, were listening to the +directions of One Voice. Therefore, though it may seem a strange +chance, it was not wonderful really that within a few hours of the +arrival of the <i>Woodhouse</i> in the Thames Master Robert Fowler and +Friend Gerard Roberts met each other face to face in London City. Nor +was it strange that the ship's captain should be moved to tell the +merchant of the exercise of his spirit about his ship. In truth all +Friends who visited London in those days were wont to unburden +themselves of their perplexities to the master of that hospitable +house over whose doorway swung the sign of the Fleur-de-luce. Lightly +he told it—almost as a jest—the folly of the notion that a vessel of +such small tonnage could be needed to face the terrors of the terrible +Atlantic. Surely a prudent merchant like Friend Roberts would tell him +to pay no heed to visions and inner voices, and such like idle +notions? But Gerard Roberts did not scoff. He listened silently. A +look almost of awe stole over his face. The first words he uttered +were, 'It is the Lord's doing and it is marvellous in our eyes.' And +at these words Master Robert Fowler's <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[388]</a></span>heart sank down, down like +lead.</p> + +<p>Long afterwards, describing the scene, he says: 'Also when (the +vessel) was finished and freighted, and made to sea, contrary to my +will, was brought to London, where, speaking touching this matter to +Gerard Roberts and others, they confirmed the matter in behalf of the +Lord, that it must be so.'</p> + +<p>'It must be so.' This is the secret of Guidance from that day to this. +The Inner Voice alone is not always enough for action; the outer need +or claim of service alone is not necessarily a call. But when the +Inner Voice and the outer need come together, then truly the will of +the Lord is plain, and 'It must be so.'</p> + +<p>Master Robert Fowler was not yet willing or ready to sacrifice his own +wishes. A decisive victory is not to be won in one battle, however +severe, but only throughout the stress of a long campaign. The +struggle in his cabin, when he allowed the ship's head to be turned +towards London, must needs be fought out again. The unreasonableness +of such a voyage in such a vessel, the risk, the thought of the +dangers and misery it would bring, took possession of his mind once +more, as he himself confesses: 'Yet entering into reasoning and +letting in temptation and hardships, and the loss of my life, wife, +and children, with the enjoyment of all earthly things, it brought me +as low as the grave, and laid me as one dead to the things of God.'</p> + +<p>'Let the sacrifice be made, if it must be made,' he said to himself, +'but it is too much to expect any man to make it willingly.' For days +he went about, in his own words, 'as one dead.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[389]</a></span>The eagerness of the Friends to depart, their plans for the voyage, +their happy cares, only loaded his spirit the more. It was a dark, +sad, miserable time; and a dark, sad, miserable man was the owner of +the <i>Woodhouse</i>.</p> + +<p>Till on a certain day, the Friends coming as usual to visit his ship +brought another with them, a Stranger; taller, stronger, sturdier than +them all; a man with a long drooping nose and piercing eyes—yes, and +leather breeches! It was, it could be no other than George Fox!</p> + +<p>What did he say to Robert Fowler? What words did he use? Did he argue +or command? That was unnecessary. The mere presence of the strong +faithful servant of the Lord drew out a like faithfulness in the other +more timid soul.</p> + +<p>Robert Fowler's narrative continues:</p> + +<p>'But by His instrument, George Fox, was I refreshed and raised up +again, which before was much contrary to myself that I could have as +willingly have died as gone; but by the strength of God I was now made +willing to do His will; yea even the customs and fashions of the +customs house could not stop me.'</p> + +<p>'Made willing to do His will.' There is the secret of this 'wonderful +voyage.' For it was absurdly dangerous to think of sailing across the +Atlantic in such a vessel as the <i>Woodhouse</i>: or it would have been, +had it been a mere human plan. But if the all-powerful, almighty Will +of God really commanded them to go, then it was no longer dangerous +but the only safe thing they could do.</p> + +<p>'Our trembling hands held in Thy strong and loving grasp, what shall +even the weakest of us fear?'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[390]</a></span>Perhaps Master Robert expected when once he was ready to obey +cheerfully, that all his difficulties would vanish. Instead, fresh +difficulties arose; and the next difficulty was truly a great one. The +press-gang came by, and took Robert Fowler's servants off by force to +help to man the British fleet that was being fitted out to fight in +the Baltic; took them, whether they would or no, as Richard Sellar was +to be captured in the same way, seven years later.</p> + +<p>So now the long voyage to America must be undertaken not only in too +small a boat, but with too few sailors to work her. Besides Robert +Fowler, only two men and three boys were left on board to sail the +ship on this long, difficult voyage.</p> + +<p>Presently the Friends began to come on board; and if the captain's +heart sank anew as he saw the long string of passengers making for his +tiny boat—who shall wonder or blame him? It was a very solemn +procession of weighty Friends.</p> + +<p>In front came the five, who had been in America before, and who were +going back to face persecution, knowing what it meant. Their names +were: first that 'ancient and venerable man' William Brend; then young +Christopher Holder of Winterbourne in Gloucestershire, a well-educated +man of good estate; John Copeland of Holderness in Yorkshire; Mary +Weatherhead of Bristol; and Dorothy<a name="FNanchor_34_34" id="FNanchor_34_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_34_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a> Waugh, the serving-maid of +Preston Patrick, who had been 'convinced and called to the ministry' +as she went about her daily work in the family of Friend John Camm, at +Cammsgill.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[391]</a></span>After them followed the other five who had not crossed the Atlantic +before, but who were no less eager to face unknown difficulties and +dangers. Their names were: William Robinson the London merchant; +Robert Hodgson; Humphrey Norton (remember Humphrey Norton, he will be +heard of again); Richard Doudney, 'an innocent man who served the Lord +in sincerity'; and Mary Clark, the wife of John Clark, a London +Friend, who, like most of the others, had already undergone much +suffering for her faith. On board the <i>Woodhouse</i> they all came, +stepping on deck one after the other solemnly and sedately, while the +anxious captain watched them and wondered how many more were to come, +and where they were all to be lodged. Once they were on board, +however, things changed and felt quite different. It was as if an +Unseen Passenger had come with them.</p> + +<p>This is Robert Fowler's own account: 'Upon the 1st day of Fourth Month +called June received I the Lord's servants aboard, Who came with a +mighty hand and an outstretched arm with them; so that with courage we +set sail and came to the Downs the second day, where our dearly +beloved William Dewsbury with Michael Thompson came aboard, and in +them we were much refreshed; and, recommending us to the grace of God, +we launched forth.'</p> + +<p>After this his narrative has a different ring: Master Fowler was no +longer going about his ship with eyes cast down and hanging head and a +heart full of fear. He had straightened his back and was a stalwart +mariner again. Perhaps this was partly owing to the great pleasure +that came to him before they actually set sail, when, as he tells, +William Dewsbury <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[392]</a></span>came on board to visit the travellers. 'Dear William +Dewsbury' was the one Friend of all others Robert Fowler must have +wished to see once more before leaving England, for it was William +Dewsbury's preaching that had 'convinced' Robert Fowler and made him +become a Friend a few years before. It was William Dewsbury's teaching +about the blessedness of following the inner Voice, the inner +guidance, that had led him to offer himself and the <i>Woodhouse</i> for +the service of Truth.</p> + +<p>Perhaps he said, half in joke, half in earnest, 'O William Dewsbury! O +William Dewsbury! thou hast much to answer for! If I had never met +thee I should never have undertaken this voyage in my little boat!' If +he said this, I think a very tender, thankful light came into William +Dewsbury's face, as he answered, 'Let us give thanks then together, +brother, that the message did reach thee through me; since without +this voyage thou could'st not fully have known the power and the +wonder of the Lord.'</p> + +<p>Quakers do not have priests to baptize them, or bishops to confirm or +ordain them, as Church people do. Yet God's actual presence in the +heart is often revealed first through the message of one of His +messengers. Therefore there is a special bond of tender fellowship and +friendship between those who are truly fathers and children in God, +even in a Society where all are friends. In this relation William +Dewsbury stood to Robert Fowler.</p> + +<p>Reason and fear raised their heads once again, even after William +Dewsbury's visit. Robert Fowler thought of going to the Admiral in the +Downs to complain of the loss of his servants, and to ask that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[393]</a></span>a +convoy might be sent with them. But he did not go, because, as he +says, 'From which thing I was withholden by that Hand which was my +Helper.'</p> + +<p>The south wind began to blow, and they were obliged to put in at +Portsmouth, and there there were plenty of men waiting to be engaged, +but when they heard that this tiny vessel was actually venturing to +cross the Atlantic, not one would sail in her, and this happened again +at South Yarmouth, where they put in a few days later.</p> + +<p>At Portsmouth, however, the Friends were not idle. They went ashore +and held a meeting, or, as Robert Fowler puts it, 'They went forth and +gathered sticks and kindled a fire, and left it burning.' Not real +sticks for a real fire, of course, but a fire of love and service in +people's hearts, that would help to keep the cold world warm in after +days.</p> + +<p>This was their last task in England. A few hours later they had +quitted her shores. The coast-line that followed them faithfully at +first, dropped behind gradually, growing fainter and paler, then +resting like a thought upon the sea, till it finally disappeared. Only +a vast expanse of heaving waters surrounded the travellers.</p> + +<p>At first it seemed as if their courage was not to be too severely +tested. 'Three pretty large ships which were for the Newfoundland' +appeared, and bore the <i>Woodhouse</i> company for some fifty leagues. In +their vicinity the smaller vessel might have made the voyage, perilous +at best, with a certain amount of confidence. But the Dutch warships +were known to be not far distant, and in order to escape them the +three 'pretty large ships made off to the northward, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[394]</a></span>left us +without hope or help as to the outward.'</p> + +<p>The manner of the departure of the ships was on this wise. Early in +the morning it was shown to Humphrey Norton—who seems to have been +especially sensitive to messages from the invisible world—'that those +were nigh unto us who sought our lives.' He called Robert Fowler, and +gave him this warning, and added, 'Thus saith the Lord, ye shall be +carried away as in a mist.' 'Presently,' says Robert Fowler, 'we +espied a great ship making up to us, and the three great ships were +much afraid, and tacked about with what speed they could; in the very +interim the Lord fulfilled His promise, and struck our enemies in the +face with a contrary wind, wonderfully to our refreshment. Then upon +our parting from these three ships we were brought to ask counsel of +the Lord, and the word was from Him, "Cut through and steer your +straight course and mind nothing but Me."'</p> + +<p>'Cut through and steer your straight course, and mind nothing but Me!' +Alone upon the broad Atlantic in this cockle-shell of a boat! Only a +cockle-shell truly, yet it held a bit of heaven within it—the heaven +of obedience. Every day the little company of Friends met in that +ship's hold together, and 'He Himself met with us and manifested +himself largely unto us,' words that have been proved true by many +another company of the Master's servants afloat upon the broad waters +from that day to this. There they sat on the wooden benches, with +spray breaking over them, the faithful men and women who were daring +all for the Truth. Only three times in the whole voyage was the +weather so bad that storms <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[395]</a></span>prevented their assembling together. Much +of the actual navigation of the vessel seems to have been left to the +strange passengers to determine. The Captain's narrative continues: +'Thus it was all the voyage with the faithful, who were carried far +above storms and tempests, that when the ship went either to the right +hand or to the left, their hands joined all as one, and did direct her +way; so that we have seen and said, "We see the Lord leading our +vessel even as it were a man leading a horse by the head; we regarding +neither latitude nor longitude, but kept to our line, which was and is +our Leader, Guide, and Rule."'</p> + +<p>Besides the guidance vouchsafed to the Friends as a group, some of +them had special intimations given to them.</p> + +<p>'The sea was my figure,' says Robert Fowler, 'for if anything got up +within, the sea without rose up against me, and then the floods +clapped their hands, of which in time I took notice and told Humphrey +Norton.'<a name="FNanchor_35_35" id="FNanchor_35_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_35_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a></p> + +<p>In this account Humphrey Norton always seems to hear voices directing +their course, while Robert Fowler generally 'sees figures'—sights +that teach him what to do. Guidance may come in different ways to +different people, but it does come surely to those who seek for it.</p> + +<p>The inward Voice spoke to Robert Fowler also when they were in mid +Atlantic after they had been at sea some two weeks:</p> + +<p>'We saw another great ship making up to us which <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[396]</a></span>did appear far off +to be a frigate, and made her sign for us to come to them, which was +to me a great cross, we being to windward of them; and it was said +"<span class="fakesc">GO SPEAK TO HIM, THE CROSS IS SURE; DID I EVER FAIL THEE +THEREIN</span>?" And unto others there appeared no danger in it, so +that we did, and it proved a tradesman of London, by whom we writ +back.'</p> + +<p>The hardest test of their faith came some three weeks later, when +after five weeks at sea they had still accomplished only 300 leagues, +scarcely a third part of their voyage, and their destination still +seemed hopelessly distant. The strong faith of Humphrey Norton carried +them all over this trial. 'He (Humphrey Norton) falling into communion +with God, told me that he had received a comfortable answer, and also +that about such a day we should land in America, which was even so +fulfilled. Upon the last day of the fifth month (July) 1657, we made +land.'</p> + +<p>This land turned out to be the very part to which the Friends had most +desired to come. The pilot<a name="FNanchor_36_36" id="FNanchor_36_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_36_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a> had expected to reach quite a different +point, but the invisible guidance of his strange passengers was clear +and unwavering. 'Our drawing had been all the passage to keep to the +southward, until the evening before we made land, and then the word +was, "There is a lion in the way"; unto which we gave obedience, and +said, "Let them steer northwards until the day following."'<a name="FNanchor_37_37" id="FNanchor_37_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_37_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[397]</a></span>That must have been an anxious day on board the <i>Woodhouse</i>. Think of +the two different clues that were being followed within that one small +boat: the Friends with their clasped hands, seeking and finding +guidance; up on deck the pilot, with his nautical knowledge, scoffing +very likely at any other method of progress than the reckoning to +which he was accustomed. As the slow hours passed, and no land +appeared to break the changeless circle of the sea, the Friends felt a +'drawing' to meet together long before their usual time. 'And it was +said that we may look abroad in the evening; and as we sat waiting +upon the Lord, we discovered the land, and our mouths were opened in +prayer and thanksgiving.'</p> + +<p>The words are simple as any words could be. But in spite of the 260 +years that separate that day from this, its gladness is still fresh. +All voyagers know the thrill caused by the first sight of land, even +in these days of steamships, when all arrangements can be made and +carried out with almost clock-like precision. But in the old time of +sailing ships, when a contrary wind or a sudden calm might upset the +reckoning for days together, and when there was the added danger that +food or water might give out, to see the longed-for land in sight at +last must have been even more of an event.</p> + +<p>To all the Friends on board the <i>Woodhouse</i> this first sight of +America meant a yet deeper blessedness. It was the outer assurance +that the invisible guidance they were following was reliable. The +Friends rejoiced and were wholly at rest and thankful. But the pilot, +instead of being, as might have been expected, convinced at last that +there was a wisdom wiser than <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[398]</a></span>his own, still resisted. Where some +people see life with a thread of guidance running through it +unmistakably, others are always to be found who will say these things +are nothing but chance and what is called 'coincidence.'</p> + +<p>Such an one was the pilot of the <i>Woodhouse</i>. As the land drew nearer, +a creek was seen to open out in it. The Friends were sure that their +vessel was meant to enter there, but again the pilot resisted. By this +time the Friends had learned to expect objections from him, and had +learned, too, that it was best not to argue with him, but to leave him +to find out for himself that their guidance was right. So they told +him to do as he chose, that 'both sides were safe, but going that way +would be more trouble to him.' When morning dawned 'he saw, after he +had laid by all the night, the thing fulfilled.'</p> + +<p>Into the creek, therefore, in the bright morning sunlight the +<i>Woodhouse</i> came gaily sailing; not knowing where she was, nor whither +the creek would lead. 'Now to lay before you the largeness of the +wisdom, will, and power of God, this creek led us in between the Dutch +Plantation and Long Island:'—the very place that some of the Friends +had felt that they ought to visit, but which it would have been most +difficult to reach had they landed in any other spot. Thus 'the Lord +God that moved them brought them to the place appointed, and led us +into our way according to the word which came unto Christopher Holder: +"You are in the road to Rhode Island." In that creek came a shallop to +guide us, taking us to be strangers, we making our way with our boat, +and they spoke English, and informed us, and guided us <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[399]</a></span>along. The +power of the Lord fell much upon us, and an irresistible word came +unto us, that the seed in America shall be as the sand of the sea; it +was published in the ears of the brethren, which caused tears to break +forth with fulness of joy; so that presently for these places some +prepared themselves, who were Robert Hodgson, Richard Doudney, Sarah +Gibbons, Mary Weatherhead, and Dorothy Waugh, who the next day were +put safely ashore into the Dutch plantation, called New Amsterdam.'</p> + +<p>'New Amsterdam, on an unnamed creek in the Dutch Plantation,' sounds +an unfamiliar place to modern ears. Yet when that same Dutch +Plantation changed hands and became English territory its new masters +altered the name of its chief town. New Amsterdam was re-christened in +honour of the king's brother, James, Duke of York, and became known as +New York, the largest city of the future United States of America.</p> + +<p>As to the unnamed 'creek' into which the <i>Woodhouse</i> was led, that was +probably the estuary of the mighty river Hudson. 'Here,' continues +Robert Fowler, 'we came, and it being the First Day of the week +several came aboard to us and we began our work. I was caused to go to +the Governor, and Robert Hodgson with me—he (the Governor) was +moderate both in words and actions.'</p> + +<p>This moderation on the Governor's part must have been no small comfort +to the new arrivals. Also the laws of the New Netherland Colonies, +where they had unexpectedly landed, were much more tolerant than those +of New England, whither they were bound. Even yet the perils of the +gallant <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[400]</a></span><i>Woodhouse</i> were not over. The remaining Friends had now to +be taken on to hospitable Rhode Island, the home of religious liberty, +from whence they could pursue their mission to the persecuting +Colonists on the mainland.</p> + +<p>A few days before their arrival at New Amsterdam, the two Roberts +(Robert Hodgson and Robert Fowler) had both had a vision in which they +had seen the <i>Woodhouse</i> in great danger. The day following their +interview with the Governor, when they were once more on the sea, 'it +was fulfilled, there being a passage between the two lands which is +called by the name of Hell-Gate; we lay very conveniently for a pilot, +and into that place we came, and into it were forced, and over it were +carried, which I never heard of any before that were; there were rocks +many on both sides of us, so that I believe one yard's length would +have endangered both vessel and goods.'</p> + +<p>Here for the last time the little group of Friends gathered to give +thanks for their safe arrival after their most wonderful voyage. If +any of them were tempted to think they owed any of their protection +and guidance to their own merits and faithfulness, a last vision that +came to Robert Fowler must have chased this thought out of their minds +once for all.</p> + +<p>'There was a shoal of fish,' he says, 'which pursued our vessel and +followed her strangely, and along close by our rudder.' The master +mariner's eye had evidently been following the movements of the fish +throughout the day, as he asked himself: 'What are those fish? I never +saw fish act in that way before. Why do they follow the vessel so +steadily?' Then, in the time of silent waiting upon God, light +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[401]</a></span>streamed upon this puzzle in his mind.</p> + +<p>'In our meeting it was shewn to me, these fish are to thee a figure. +"Thus doth the prayers of the churches proceed to the Lord for thee +and the rest."' That was the explanation of the wonderful voyage. The +<i>Woodhouse</i> and her little company had not been solitary and +unprotected, even when the three 'pretty great ships' drew off for +fear of the Dutch men of war and left them alone.</p> + +<p>The prayers of their friends in England were following them across the +vast Atlantic, though unseen by human eyes, even as those hosts of +shining fish, which surrounded the vessel as she drove her prow +through the clear water, would be unseen to a spectator above its +surface. George Fox was praying for the travellers. William Dewsbury +was sure to be praying for them. Friend Gerard Roberts would be also +much in prayer, since the responsibility of the voyage was largely on +his shoulders. Besides these, there were the husbands, wives, and +little children of some of the Friends, the brothers and sisters of +others, all longing for them to arrive safely and do their Master's +work. Now here came the fish to assure Robert Fowler that the faith he +believed was true. Real as the things we can see or touch or feel seem +to us to be, the unseen things are more real still. Ever after, to +those who had crossed the Atlantic in the good ship <i>Woodhouse</i>, the +assurance of God's clear guidance and the answered prayers of His +people must have been the most real of all.</p> + +<p>Robert Fowler's story of the marvellous voyage ends with these words: +'Surely in our meeting did the thing run through me as oil and bid me +much rejoice.'</p> + +<br /> +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<br /> + +<h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_34_34" id="Footnote_34_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> She sometimes spelled her name Dorithy, which is not the +way to spell Dorothy now, but spelling was much less fixed in those +days.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_35_35" id="Footnote_35_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> The meaning seems to be that whenever fear or misgiving +came to Fowler's heart, the sea also became stormy; while his spirit +remained trustful, the sea was likewise calm.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_36_36" id="Footnote_36_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36_36"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> As the navigating officer of the ship was then called.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_37_37" id="Footnote_37_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37_37"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> It is not quite easy at this distance of time to +understand why 'a lion in the way' should mean 'go north,' unless it +was because the 'drawing' had been strongly south hitherto, and now +that path was blocked.</p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[402]</a></span><br /> +<a name="XXVI_THE_MERCIFUL_MAN" id="XXVI_THE_MERCIFUL_MAN"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[403]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>XXVI. RICHARD SELLAR AND THE 'MERCIFUL MAN'<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'To resort to force is to lose<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[404]</a></span> +faith in the inner light. War only +results from men taking counsel +with their passions instead of +waiting upon God. If one believes, +as Fox did, that the most powerful +element in human nature is that +something of God which speaks in +the conscience, then to coerce men +is clearly wrong. The only true +line of approach is by patience to +reach down to that divine seed, to +appeal to what is best, because it +is what is strongest in man. The +Quaker testimony against war is no +isolated outwork of their +position: it forms part of their +citadel.'—<span class="fakesc">H.G. WOOD.</span></i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'The following narrative we have +thought proper to insert in the +very words of the sufferer, as +taken from his own mouth. The +candid Reader will easily excuse +the simplicity of its style, and +the Plainness of its Expressions. +It is the more like the man, and +carries the greater evidence of +the Honesty and Integrity of the +Relator, viz. "An Account of the +Sufferings of Richard Seller of +Keinsey, a Fisherman, who was +prest in Scarborough-Piers, in the +time of the two last engagements +between the Dutch and English, in +the year 1665." These are (says +the writer) the very words that +proceeded from him, who sat before +me weeping.'<span class="fakesc">—BESSE</span>, +'Sufferings of the Quakers.'</i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[405]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>XXVI. RICHARD SELLAR AND THE 'MERCIFUL MAN'</h3> +<br /> + +<p>Away to the Yorkshire coast we must go, and once more find ourselves +looking up at the bold headland of Scarborough Cliff, as it juts out +into the North Sea. Away again in time, too, to the year 1665, when +George Fox still lay in prison up at the Castle, with his room full of +smoke on stormy days when the wind 'drove in the rain forcibly,' while +'the water came all over his bed and ran about the room till he was +forced to skim it up with a platter.'</p> + +<p>Happily there is no storm raging this time. Our story begins on a +still, warm afternoon late in the summer, when even the prisoner up at +the Castle can hardly help taking some pleasure in the cloudless blue +sky and shining sea spread out above and around him.</p> + +<p>But it is not to the Castle we are bound to-day. We need not climb +again the steep, worn steps that lead to the top of the hill. Instead, +we must descend an equally narrow flight that leads down, down, down +with queer twists and turns, till we find ourselves close to the +water's edge. Even in the fiercest gales there is shelter here for the +red-roofed fishing village that surrounds the harbour, while on a warm +afternoon the air is almost oppressively hot. The brown sails of the +fishing smacks and the red roofs of the houses are faithfully +reflected in the clear water beneath them as in a looking-glass.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[406]</a></span>Outside the door of one of the houses a rough fisherman is seated on a +bench, his back against the house wall, mending his nets. At first +sight he looks almost like an old man, for his hair is grey, though +his body is still strong and active. His hands are twisted and bear +the marks of cruel scars upon them, but his face is peaceful, though +worn and rugged. He handles the nets lovingly, as if he were glad to +feel them slipping through his fingers again. Evidently the nets have +not been used for some time, for there are many holes in them, and the +mending is a slow business. As he works the fisherman sings in a low +voice, not loud enough for the neighbours to hear but just humming to +himself.</p> + +<p>Every now and then the door of the house half opens, and a little girl +looks out and asks, 'Thou art really there, Father? truly safe back +again?' The man looks up, smiling, as he calls back, 'Ay, ay, my maid. +Get on with thy work, Margery, and I'll get on with mine.'</p> + +<p>'Art thou sure thou art safe, Father?'</p> + +<p>He does not answer this question in words, but he raises his voice and +sings the next verse of his song a little more loudly and clearly—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Because on Me his love is set,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Deliver him I will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And safely bring him higher yet<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon My holy hil.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Later on, when the nets are mended and the sun is sinking above the +Castle Cliff in a fiery glow, Margery comes out and sits on her +father's knee; the lads, home from school, gather round and say, 'Now +then, Master Sellar, tell us once more the story <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[407]</a></span>of thy absence from +us, and about how thou wast pressed and taken on board the <i>Royal +Prince</i>. Tell us about the capstan and the lashings; about how they +beat thee; what the carpenter and the boatswain's mate did, and how +the gunner went down three times on his bare knees on the deck to beg +thy life. Let us hear it all again.' 'Yes, please do, Father dear,' +chimes in Margery, 'only leave out some of the beatings and the +dreadful part, and hurry on very quickly to the end of the story about +all the sailors throwing up their caps and huzzaing for Sir Edward, +the merciful man.'</p> + +<p>The fisherman smiles and nods. He puts his arm more tenderly than ever +round his small daughter as he says, 'Ay, ay, dear heart, never thou +fear.' Then, drawing Margery closer to him, he begins his tale. It is +a long story. The sun has set; the crescent moon has disappeared; and +the stars are stealing out, one by one, before he has finished. I wish +you and I could listen to that story, don't you? Well, we can! Someone +who heard it from the fisherman's own lips has written it all down for +us. He is telling it to us in his own words to-day, as he told it to +those children in Scarborough village long ago.</p> + +<p>Now and then we must interrupt him to explain some of the words he +uses, or even alter the form of the sentences slightly, in order fully +to understand what it is he is talking about.</p> + +<p>But he is telling his own story.</p> + +<p>'My name,' begins the fisherman, 'is Richard Sellar. It was during the +war between the Dutch and English that I was pressed at Scarborough in +1665.'</p> + +<p>'Pressed' means that he was forced to go and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">[408]</a></span>fight against his will. +When the country is in danger men are obliged to leave their peaceful +employments and learn to be soldiers and sailors, in order, as they +think, to defend their own nation by trying to kill their enemies. It +is something like what people now call 'conscription' that Richard +Sellar is talking of when he speaks of 'being pressed.' He means that +a number of men, called a 'press-crew,' forced him to go with them to +fight in the king's navy, for, as the proverb said, 'A king's ship and +the gallows refuse nobody.'</p> + +<p>'I was pressed,' Richard continues, 'within Scarborough Piers, and +refusing to go on board the ketch [or boat] they beat me very sore, +and I still refusing, they hoisted me in with a tackle on board, and +they bunched me with their feet, that I fell backward into a tub, and +was so maimed that they were forced to swaddle me up with clothes.'</p> + +<p>Richard Sellar could not help himself. Bound, bruised, and beaten he +was carried off in the boat to be taken to a big fighting ship called +the <i>Royal Prince</i>, that was waiting for them off the mouth of the +Thames and needing more sailors to man her for the war.</p> + +<p>The press-crew however had not captured enough men at Scarborough, so +they put in at another Yorkshire port, spelled Burlington then but +Bridlington now. It was that same Burlington or Bridlington from which +Master Robert Fowler had sailed years before. Was he at home again +now, I wonder, working in his shipyard and remembering the wonderful +experiences of the good ship <i>Woodhouse</i>? Surely he must have been +away on a voyage at this time or <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409">[409]</a></span>he would if possible have visited +Richard Sellar in his confinement on the ketch. Happily at Bridlington +there also lived two kind women, who, hearing that the ketch had a +'pressed Quaker' on board, sent Richard Sellar a present of +food—green stuff and eatables that would keep well on a voyage: these +provisions saved his life later on. After this stay in port the ketch +sailed on again to the Nore, a big sand-bank lying near the mouth of +the Thames.</p> + +<p>'And there,' Richard goes on to say, 'they haled me in at a gunport, +on board of the ship called the <i>Royal Prince</i>. The first day of the +third month, they commanded me to go to work at the capstan. I +refused; then they commanded me to call of the steward for my +victuals; which I refused, and told them that as I was not free to do +the king's work, I would not live at his charge for victuals. Then the +boatswain's mate beat me sore, and thrust me about with the capstan +until he was weary; then the Captain sent for me on the quarter-deck, +and asked me why I refused to fight for the king, and why I refused to +eat of his victuals? I told him I was afraid to offend God, for my +warfare was spiritual, and therefore I durst not fight with carnal +weapons. Then the Captain fell upon me, and beat me first with his +small cane, then called for his great cane, and beat me sore, and +felled me down to the deck three or four times, and beat me as long as +his strength continued. Then came one, Thomas Horner (which was +brought up at Easington), and said, "I pray you, noble Captain, be +merciful, for I know him to be an honest and a good man." Then said +the captain, "He is a Quaker; I will beat his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">[410]</a></span>brains out." Then +falling on me again, he beat me until he was weary, and then called +some to help him; "for" said he, "I am not able to beat him enough to +make him willing to do the king's service."'</p> + +<p>There Richard lay, bruised and beaten, on the deck. Neither the +sailors nor the Captain knew what to do with him. Presently up came +the Commander's jester or clown, a man whose business it was to make +the officers laugh. 'What,' said he, 'can't you make that Quaker work? +Do you want him to draw ropes for you and he won't? Why you are going +the wrong way to work, you fool!'</p> + +<p>No one else in the whole ship would have dared to call the Captain +'You fool!' No one else could have done so without being put in +chains. But the jester might do as he liked. His business was to make +the Captain laugh; and at these words he did laugh. 'Show me the right +way to make him work, then,' said he. 'That I will gladly,' answered +the jester, 'we will have a bet. I will give you one golden guinea if +I cannot make him draw ropes, if you will give me another if I do +compel him to do so.'</p> + +<p>'Marry that I will,' answered the Captain, and forthwith the two +guineas were thrown down on the deck, rattling gaily, while all the +ship's company stood around to watch what should befall.</p> + +<p>'Then the jester called for two seamen and made them make two ropes +fast to the wrists of my arms, and reeved the ropes through two blocks +in the mizen shrouds on the starboard side, and hoisted me up aloft, +and made the ropes fast to the gunwale of the ship, and I hung some +time. Then the jester called the ship's company to behold, and bear +him witness, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">[411]</a></span>that he made the Quaker hale the king's ropes; so +veering the ropes they lowered me half-way down, then made me fast +again. "Now," said the jester, "noble Captain, you and the company see +that the Quaker haleth the king's ropes"; and with that he commanded +them to let fly the ropes loose, when I fell on the deck. "Now," said +the jester, "noble Captain, the wager is won. He haled the ropes to +the deck, and you can hale them no further, nor any man else."'</p> + +<p>Not a very good joke, was it? It seems to have pleased the rough +sailors since it set them a-laughing. But it was no laughing matter +for Richard Sellar to be set swinging in the air strung up by the +wrists, and then to be bumped down upon deck again, fast bound and +unable to move. The Captain did not laugh either. The thought of his +lost money made him feel savage. In a loud, angry voice he called to +the boatswain's mate and bade him, 'Take the quakerly dog away, and +put him to the capstan and make him work.'</p> + +<p>Only the jester laughed, and chuckled to himself, as he gathered up +the golden guineas from the deck, and slapped his thighs for pleasure +as he slipped them into his pockets.</p> + +<p>Meantime the boatswain's mate was having fine sport with the 'Quaker +dog,' as he carried out the Captain's orders. Calling the roughest +members of the crew to help him, they beat poor Richard cruelly, and +abused him as they dragged him down into the darkness below deck.</p> + +<p>'Then he went,' says Richard, 'and sat him down upon a chest lid, and +I went and sat down upon another <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">[412]</a></span>beside him; then he fell upon me and +beat me again; then called his boy to bring him two lashings and he +lashed my arms to the capstan's bars and caused the men to heave the +capstan about; and in three or four times passing about the lashings +were loosed, no man knew how, nor when, nor could they ever be found, +although they sought them with lighted candles.'</p> + +<p>The sailors had tied their prisoner with ropes to the heavy iron wheel +in the stern of the boat called a capstan; so that as he moved he +would be obliged to drag it round and thus help to work the ship. They +had made their prisoner as fast as ever they could. Yet, somehow, here +he was free again, and his bonds had disappeared! The boatswain's mate +couldn't understand it, but he was determined to solve the mystery. He +sent for a Bible and made the sailors swear upon it in turn, in that +dark, ill-smelling den, that not one of them had loosed Richard. They +all swore willingly, but even that did not content the mate. He +thought they were lying, and would not let them go till he had turned +out all their pockets, and found that not one of them contained the +missing lashings that had mysteriously disappeared. Then, at last, +even the rough mate felt afraid. Richard seemed to be in his power and +defenceless: was he really protected by Something or Someone stronger +than any cruel men, the mate wondered?</p> + +<p>So he called the sailors round him again, and spoke to them as +follows: 'Hear what I shall say unto you; you see this is a wonderful +thing, which is done by an invisible hand, which loosed him, for none +of you could see his hands loosed, that were so near him. I suppose +this man' (said he) 'is called a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">[413]</a></span>Quaker, and for conscience' sake +refuseth to act, therefore I am afflicted, and do promise before God +and man that I will never beat, nor cause to be beaten, either Quaker +or any other man that doth refuse, for conscience' sake, to fight for +the king. And if I do, I wish I may lose my right hand.' That was the +promise of the boatswain's mate.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p>Three days later the Admiral of the whole fleet, Sir Edward Spragg, +came on board the <i>Royal Prince</i>. He was a very fine gentleman indeed. +At once every one began to tell him the same story: how they had +pressed a Quaker up at Scarborough in the North; how the Quaker had +refused to work, and had been given over to the boatswain's mate to be +flogged; how the boatswain's mate had fallen upon him and had beaten +him furiously, but now refused to lay a finger upon him, saying that +he would no longer beat a Quaker or any other man for conscience' +sake.</p> + +<p>'Send that boatswain's mate to me that he may answer for himself,' +said the Admiral. 'Why would you not beat the Quaker?' he demanded in +a terrible voice, when the boatswain's mate was brought before him. 'I +have beat him very sore,' the mate answered, 'I seized his arms to the +capstan bars, and forced them to heave him about, and beat him, and +then sat down; and in three or four times of the capstan's going +about, the lashings were loosed, and he came and sat down by me; then +I called the men from the capstan, and took them sworn, but they all +denied that they had loosed him, or knew how he was loosed; neither +could the lashings ever be found; therefore I did and do believe that +it was an invisible power <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414">[414]</a></span>which set him at liberty, and I did promise +before God and the company, that I would never beat a Quaker again, +nor any man else for conscience' sake.' The Admiral told the mate that +he must lose both his cane of office and his place. He willingly +yielded them both. He was also threatened with the loss of his right +hand. He held it out and said, 'Take it from me if you please.' His +cane was taken from him and he was displaced; but mercifully his right +hand was not cut off: that was only a threat.</p> + +<p>The Commander had now to find some one else to beat Richard Sellar. So +he gave orders to seven strong sailors (called yeomen) to beat Richard +whenever they met him, and to make him work. Beat him they did, till +they were tired; but they could not make him work or go against his +conscience, which forbade him in any way to help in fighting. Then an +eighth yeoman was called, the strongest of all. The same order was +given to him: 'Beat that Quaker as much as you like whenever you meet +him, only see that you make him work.' The eighth yeoman promised +gladly in his turn, and said, 'I'll make him!' He too beat Richard for +a whole day and a night, till he too grew weary and asked to be +excused. Then another wonderful thing happened, stranger even than the +disappearance of the lashings. After all these cruel beatings the +Commander ordered Richard's clothes to be taken off that he might see +the marks of the blows on his body. 'He caused my clothes to be stript +off,' Richard says, 'shirt and all, from my head to my waist downward; +then he took a view of my body to see what wounds and bruises I had, +but he could find none,—no, not so much <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415">[415]</a></span>as a blue spot on my skin. +Then the Commander was angry with them, for not beating me enough. +Then the Captain answered him and said, "I have beat him myself as +much as would kill an ox." The jester said he had hung me a great +while by the arms aloft in the shrouds. The men said they also had +beaten me very sore, but they might as well have beaten the main mast. +Then said the Commander, "I will cause irons to be laid upon him +during the king's pleasure and mine."'</p> + +<p>A marvellous story! After all these beatings, not a bruise or a mark +to be seen! Probably it is not possible now to explain how it +happened. Of course we might believe that Richard was telling lies all +the time, and that either the sailors did not beat him or that the +bruises did show. But why invent anything so unlikely? It is easier to +believe that he was trying to tell the truth as far as he could, even +though we cannot understand it. Perhaps his heart was so happy at +being allowed to suffer for what he thought right, that his body +really did not feel the cruel beatings, as it would have done if he +had been doing wrong and had deserved them. Or perhaps there are +wonderful ways, unknown to us until we experience them for ourselves, +in which God will, and can, and does protect His own true servants who +are trying to obey Him. That is the most comforting explanation. If +ever some one much bigger and stronger than we are tries to bully us +into doing wrong, let us remember that God does not save us <i>from</i> +pain and suffering always; but He can save us <i>through</i> the very worst +pain, if only we are true to Him.</p> + +<p>Anyhow, though Richard's beatings were over <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_416" id="Page_416">[416]</a></span>for the time, other +troubles began. He was 'put in irons,' heavily loaded with chains, a +punishment usually kept for the worst criminals, such as thieves and +murderers. All the crew were forbidden to bring him food and drink +even though he was beginning to be ill with a fever—the result of all +the sufferings he had undergone. Happily there was one kind, brave man +among the crew, the carpenter's mate. Although Sir Edward Spragg had +said that any one giving food to Richard would have to share his +punishment, this good man was not afraid, and did give the prisoner +both food and drink. All this time, Richard had been living on the +provisions that the two kind Friends, Thomasin Smales and Mary +Stringer, had sent him at Bridlington, having refused to eat the +king's food, as he could not do the king's work.</p> + +<p>Thankful indeed he must have felt when this kind carpenter's mate came +and squeezed up against him among a crowd of sailors, and managed to +pass some meat and drink out of his own pocket and into Richard's. His +new friend did this so cleverly that nobody noticed. Pleased with his +success, he whispered to Richard, 'I'll bring you some more every day +while you need food. You needn't mind taking things from me, for they +are all bought out of my own money, not the king's.'</p> + +<p>'What makes thee so good to me?' whispered back Richard. He was +weakened by fever and all unused to kindness on board the <i>Royal +Prince</i>. Very likely the tears came into his eyes and his voice +trembled as he spoke, though he had borne all his beatings unmoved.</p> + +<p>The carpenter's mate told him in reply that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">[417]</a></span>before he came on board, +both his wife and his mother had made him promise that if any Quakers +should be on the ship he would be kind to them. Also, that quite +lately he had had a letter from them asking him 'to remember his +promise, and be kind to Quakers, if any were on board.' How much we +should like to know what put it into the two women's hearts to think +of such a thing! Were they Quakers themselves, or had they Quaker +friends? Once more there is no answer but: 'God will, and can, and +does protect His own.'</p> + +<p>Unfortunately this kind man was sent away from the ship to do work +elsewhere, and for three days and nights Richard lay in his heavy +irons, with nothing either to eat or drink. Some sailors who had been +quarrelling in a drunken brawl on deck were thrown into prison and +chained up beside Richard. They were sorry for him and did their best +to help him. They even gave him something to drink when they were +alone, though for his sake they had to pretend that they were trying +to hurt and kill him when any of the officers were present. These +rough sailors pretended so well that one lieutenant, who had been +specially cruel to Richard before, now grew alarmed, and thought the +other prisoners really would kill the Quaker.</p> + +<p>He went up to Sir Edward's cabin and knocked at the door. 'Who is +there?' asked the cabin-boy.</p> + +<p>'I,' said the lieutenant, 'I want to speak to Sir Edward.' When he was +admitted he said, 'If it please your highness to remember that there +is a poor Quaker in irons yet, that was laid in two weeks since, and +the other prisoners will kill him for us.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">[418]</a></span>'We will have a Court Martial,' thought Sir Edward, 'and settle this +Quaker's job once for all.'</p> + +<p>He told the lieutenant to go for the keys and let Richard out, and to +put a flag at the mizen-mast's head, and call a council of war, and +make all the captains come from all the other ships to try the Quaker.</p> + +<p>It was not yet eight o'clock on a Sunday morning. At the signal, all +the captains of all the other ships came hurrying on board the <i>Royal +Prince</i>, the Admiral's flag-ship. Richard was fetched up from his +prison and brought before this council of war—or Court Martial as it +would be called now. The Admiral sat in the middle, very grand indeed; +beside him sat the judge of the Court Martial, 'who,' says Richard, +'was a papist, being Governor of Dover Castle, who went to sea on +pleasure.' He probably looked grander still. Around these two sat the +other naval captains from the other ships. Opposite all these great +people was Quaker Richard, so weakened by fever and lame from his +heavy fetters that he could not stand, and had to be allowed to sit. +The Commander, to give Richard one more chance, asked him if he would +go aboard another ship, a tender with six guns. Richard's conscience +was still clear that he could have nothing to do with guns or +fighting. He said he would rather stay where he was and abide his +punishment.</p> + +<p>What punishment do you think the judge thought would be suitable for a +man who had committed only the crime of refusing to fight, or to work +to help those who were fighting?</p> + +<p>'The judge said I should be put into a barrel or cask <i>driven full of +nails with their points inward and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">[419]</a></span>so rolled to death</i>; but the +council of war taking it into consideration, thought it too terrible a +death and too much unchristianlike; so they agreed to hang me.'</p> + +<p>'Too much unchristianlike' indeed! The mere thought of such a +punishment makes us shiver. The Governor of Dover Castle, who +suggested it, was himself a Roman Catholic. History tells how fiercely +the Roman Catholics persecuted the Protestants in Queen Mary's reign, +when Cranmer, Ridley, Latimer, Hooper, and many others were burnt at +the stake for their religion. Since then times had changed, and when +the Protestants were in power they too had often persecuted the Roman +Catholics in their turn. Perhaps someone whom this 'papist' judge had +loved very much had been cruelly put to death, and perhaps that was +the reason he suggested this savage punishment for Quaker Richard. We +do not know how that may be. But we do know that cruelty makes +cruelty, on and on without end. The only real way to stop it, is to +turn right round and follow the other law, the blessed law, whereby +love makes love.</p> + +<p>Richard Sellar was only a rough, ignorant fisherman, but he had begun +to learn this lesson out of Christ's lesson book: and how difficult a +lesson it is, nobody knows who has not tried to carry it out.</p> + +<p>Richard heard his sentence pronounced, that he was to be hanged. When +he heard that he was being wrongfully accused of various crimes that +he had not committed, he longed to rise and justify himself, but he +could only sit or kneel because he was too weak to stand. In vain he +tried to rise, and tried to speak. He could neither move nor say a +word. He could not even say: 'I am innocent.' He could <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420">[420]</a></span>not even pray +to God to help him in his difficulty. Again he tried to rise, and then +suddenly in his utter weakness he felt God's power holding him, and a +Voice said quite distinctly, three times over, in his heart: <span class="fakesc">'BE +STILL—BE STILL—BE STILL</span>.'</p> + +<p>'Which Voice,' says Richard, 'I obeyed and was comforted. Then I +believed God would arise. And when they had done speaking, then God +did arise, and I was filled with the power of God; and my spirit +lifted up above all earthly things; and wonderful strength was given +me to my limbs, and my heart was full of the power and wisdom of God; +and with glad tidings my mouth was opened, to declare to the people +the things God had made manifest to me. With sweat running down, and +tears trickling from my eyes, I told them, "The hearts of kings were +in the hand of the Lord; and so are both yours and mine; and I do not +value what you can do to this body, for I am at peace with God and all +men, and with you my adversaries. For if I might live an hundred and +thirty years longer, I can never die in a better condition: for the +Lord hath satisfied me, that He hath forgiven me all things in this +world; and I am glad through His mercy, that He hath made me willing +to suffer for His name's sake, and not only so, but I am heartily +glad, and do really rejoice, and with a seal in my heart to the same." +Then there came a man and laid his hand upon my shoulder, and said, +"Where are all thy accusers?" Then my eyes were opened, and I looked +about me, and they were all gone.'</p> + +<p>The Court Martial was over. Every one of the captains had disappeared. +His accusers were gone; but Richard's sentence remained, and was still +to be <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421">[421]</a></span>carried out on the following morning. One officer, the same +lieutenant who had been cruel to him before, was still unkind to him +and called him 'a hypocrite Quaker,' but many others on board ship did +their best to save him.</p> + +<p>First of all there came up an ancient soldier to the Admiral on the +quarter-deck. He 'loosed down his knee-strings, and put down his +stockings, and put his cap under his knees, and begged Sir Edward's +pardon three times' (this seems to have been the correct behaviour +when addressing the Admiral), and the ancient soldier said, 'Noble Sir +Edward, you know that I have served His Majesty under you many years, +both in this nation and other nations, by the sea, and you were always +a merciful man; therefore I do entreat you, in all kindness, to be +merciful to this poor man, who is condemned to die to-morrow; and only +for denying your order for fear of offending God, and for conscience' +sake; and we have but one man on board, out of nine hundred and +fifty—only one which doth refuse for conscience' sake; and shall we +take his life away? Nay, God forbid! For he hath already declared +that, if we take his life away there shall a judgment appear upon some +on board, within eight and forty hours; and to me it hath appeared; +therefore I am forced to come upon quarter-deck before you; and my +spirit is one with his; therefore I desire you, in all kindness, to +give me the liberty, when you take his life away, to go off on board, +for I shall not be willing to serve His Majesty any longer on board of +ship; so I do entreat you once more to be merciful to this poor +man—so God bless you, Sir Edward. I have no more to say to you.'</p> + +<p>Next came up the chief gunner—a more <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422">[422]</a></span>important man, for he had been +himself a captain—but he too 'loosed down his knee-strings, and did +beg the Admiral's pardon three times, being on his bare knees before +Sir Edward.'</p> + +<p>Then Sir Edward said, 'Arise up, gunner, and speak.'</p> + +<p>Whereupon the chief gunner answered, 'If it please your worship, Sir +Edward, we know you are a merciful man, and therefore I entreat you, +in all kindness, to be merciful to this poor man, in whom there +remains something more than flesh and blood; therefore I entreat you, +let us not destroy that which is alive; neither endeavour to do it; +and so God bless you, Sir Edward. I have no more to say to you.' Then +he too went away.</p> + +<p>It was all of no use. Richard had been sentenced by the Court Martial +to be hanged next morning, and hanged he must be.</p> + +<p>Only Sir Edward—pleased perhaps at being told so often that he was a +merciful man, and willing to show that he had some small idea of what +mercy meant—'gave orders that any that had a mind to give me victuals +might; and that I might eat and drink with whom I pleased; and that +none should molest me that day. Then came the lieutenant and sat down +by me, whilst they were at their worship; and he would have given me +brandy, but I refused. Then the dinner came up to be served, and +several gave me victuals to eat, and I did eat freely, and was kindly +entertained that day. Night being come, a man kindly proffered me his +hammock to lie in that night, because I had lain long in irons; and I +accepted of his kindness, and laid me down, and I slept well <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423">[423]</a></span>that +night.'</p> + +<p>'The next morning being come, it being the second day of the week, on +which I was to be executed, about eight o'clock in the morning, the +rope being reeved on the mizen-yard's arm; and the boy ready to turn +me off; and boats being come on board with captains from other ships, +that were of the council of war, who came on purpose to see me +executed; I was therefore called to come to be executed. Then, I +coming to the execution place, the Commander asked the council how +their judgment did stand now? So most of them did consent; and some +were silent. Then he desired me freely to speak my mind, if I had +anything to say, before I was executed. I told him I had little at +present to speak. So there came a man, and bid me to go forward to be +executed. So I stepped upon the gunwale, to go towards the rope. The +Commander bid me stop there, if I had anything to say. Then spake the +judge and said, "Sir Edward is a merciful man, that puts that heretic +to no worse death than hanging."'</p> + +<p>The judge, the Governor of Dover Castle, was, as we have heard, a +Roman Catholic. To him Sir Edward and Richard Sellar were both alike +heretics, one not much worse than the other, since both were outside +what he believed to be the only true Church.<a name="FNanchor_38_38" id="FNanchor_38_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_38_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a> Sir Edward knew this. +Therefore on hearing the word 'heretic' he turned sharp round to the +judge, 'What sayest thou?' Apparently the judge felt that he had <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_424" id="Page_424">[424]</a></span>been +unwise to speak his candid thoughts, for he repeated the sentence, +leaving out the irritating word 'heretic': 'I say you are a merciful +man that puts him to no worse death than hanging.' Sir Edward knew +that he had not been mistaken in the word his sharp ears had caught. +'But,' said he, 'what is the other word that thou saidst?' 'That +heretic,' repeated the judge. 'I say,' said the Commander, 'he is more +like a Christian than thyself; for I do believe thou wouldst hang me +if it were in thy power.'</p> + +<p>'Then said the Commander to me,' continues Richard, '"Come down again, +for I will not hurt an hair of thy head; for I cannot make one hair +grow." Then he cried, "Silence all men," and proclaimed it three times +over, that if any man or men on board of the ship would come and give +evidence that I had done anything that I deserved death for, I should +have it, provided they were credible persons. But no man came, neither +a mouth opened against me then. So he cried again, "Silence all men, +and hear me speak." Then he proclaimed that the Quaker was as free a +man as any on board of the ship was. So the men heaved up their hats, +and with a loud voice cried, "God bless Sir Edward, he is a merciful +man!" The shrouds and tops and decks being full of men, several of +their hats flew overboard and were lost.'</p> + +<p>We will say good-bye to Richard there, with all the sailors huzzaing +round him, throwing up their caps, and Sir Edward standing by with a +pleased smile, more pleased than ever now, since it was impossible for +any one to deny that he was a merciful, a most merciful man. The +change for Richard himself, from being a condemned criminal loaded +with <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_425" id="Page_425">[425]</a></span>chains to being a universal favourite, must have been startling +indeed, though his troubles were not over yet. Difficulties surrounded +him again when the actual battles with the Dutch began. But, though he +could not fight, and was therefore in perpetual danger, he could and +did help and heal.</p> + +<p>His story tells us how he was able to save the whole ship's company +from destruction more than once, and had more marvellous adventures +than there is time here to relate. He tells also how the persecuting +lieutenant became his fast friend, and eventually helped him to get +his freedom.</p> + +<p>For he did regain his liberty in the end, and was given a written +permission to go home and earn his living as a fisherman. With this +writing in his hand no press-crew would dare to kidnap him again. So +back he came to Scarborough, to the red-roofed cottage by the water's +edge, to his unmended nets, and to the little daughter with whom we +saw him first. Most likely at this time George Fox was still a +prisoner in the Castle. If so, one of the very first things Richard +did, we may be sure, was to climb the many stone steps up to the +Castle and seek his friend in his cheerless prison. The fire smoke and +the rain would be forgotten by both men as they talked together, and +George Fox's face would light up as he heard the story of the lashings +that disappeared and the beatings that left no bruise. He was not a +man who laughed easily, but doubtless he laughed once, at any rate, as +he listened to Richard's story, when he heard of the huzzaing sailors +whose hats fell off into the water because they were so energetically +sure that 'Sir Edward was a very merciful man.'</p> + +<br /> +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<br /> + +<h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_38_38" id="Footnote_38_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38_38"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> The Roman Catholic gentry used sometimes to alarm their +Protestant neighbours with blood-curdling announcements that the good +times of Queen Mary were coming back, and 'faggotts should be deere +yet' (G.M. Trevelyan, <i>England under the Stuarts</i>, p. 87).</p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_426" id="Page_426">[426]</a></span><br /> +<a name="XXVII_TWO_ROBBER_STORIES" id="XXVII_TWO_ROBBER_STORIES"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_427" id="Page_427">[427]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>XXVII. TWO ROBBER STORIES. <br />WEST AND EAST<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'They were changed men<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_428" id="Page_428">[428]</a></span> +themselves, before they went out +to change others'<span class="fakesc">—W. +PENN</span>, Testimony to George +Fox.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'But when He comes to reign, +whose right it is, then peace and +goodwill is unto all men, and no +hurt in all the holy mountain of +the Lord is seen.'<span class="fakesc">—G. +FOX</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0a"><i>'Wouldst thou love one who never died for thee,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0a"><i>Or ever die for one who had not died for thee?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0a"><i>And if God dieth not for Man and giveth not Himself</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0a"><i>Eternally for Man, Man could not exist, for Man is Love</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0a"><i>As God is Love. Every kindness to another is a little death</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0a"><i>In the Divine Image, nor can man exist but by brotherhood.'</i><br /></span> +<span class="i10"><i><span class="fakesc">W. BLAKE</span>, 'Jerusalem.'</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'England is as a family of +prophets which must spread over +all nations, as a garden of +plants, and the place where the +pearl is found which must enrich +all nations with the heavenly +treasure, out of which shall the +waters of life flow, and water all +the thirsty ground, and out of +which nation and dominion must go +the spiritually weaponed and armed +men, to fight and conquer all +nations and bring them to the +nation of God.'—Epistle of +Skipton General Meeting, 1660.</i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_429" id="Page_429">[429]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>XXVII. TWO ROBBER STORIES. <br />WEST AND EAST</h3> +<br /> + +<h4>I</h4> + +<h4>LEONARD FELL AND THE HIGHWAYMAN</h4> + + +<p>In that same memorable summer of 1652 when George Fox first visited +Swarthmoor Hall and 'bewitched' the household there, he also met and +'bewitched' another member of the Fell family. This was one Leonard +Fell, a connection of the Judge, whose home was at Baycliff in the +same county of Lancashire. Thither George Fox came on his travels +shortly after his first visit to Swarthmoor, when only Margaret Fell +and her children were at home, and before his later visit after Judge +Fell's return.</p> + +<p>'I went to Becliff,' says the Journal, 'where Leonard Fell was +convinced, and became a minister of the everlasting Gospel. Several +others were convinced there and came into obedience to truth. Here the +people said they could not dispute, and would fain have put some +others to hold talk with me, but I bid them, "Fear the Lord and not in +a light way hold a talk of the Lord's words, but put the things in +practice."'</p> + +<p>Leonard Fell did indeed put his new faith 'in practice.' He left his +home and followed his teacher, sharing with him many of the perils and +dangers of his journeys in the Service of Truth. Up and down and +across the length and breadth of England the two men travelled side by +side along the hedgeless <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_430" id="Page_430">[430]</a></span>English roads. At first as they went along, +Leonard Fell watched George Fox with sharp eyes, in his dealings with +the different people they met on their journeys, in order to discover +how his teacher would 'put into practice' the central truth he +proclaimed: that in every man, however degraded, there remains some +hidden spark of the Divine. But put it in practice George Fox did, +till at length Leonard Fell, too, learned to look for 'that of God +within' every one he met, learned to depend upon finding it, and to be +able to draw it out in his turn.</p> + +<p>One day, Leonard was travelling in the 'Service of Truth,' not in +George Fox's company but alone, when, as he crossed a desolate moor on +horseback, he heard the thunderous sound of horses' hoofs coming after +him down the road. Looking round, he beheld a masked and bearded +highwayman, his figure enveloped in a long flowing cloak, rapidly +approaching on a far swifter horse than his own 'Truth's pony.' A +moment later, a pistol was drawn from the newcomer's belt and pointed +full at Leonard's head.</p> + +<p>'Another step and you are a dead man! Your money or your life, and be +quick about it!' said the highwayman, as he suddenly pulled the curb +and checked his foam-covered horse. At this challenge, Leonard +obediently pulled up his own steed with his left hand, while, with his +right, he drew out his purse and handed it over to the robber without +a word.</p> + +<p>The pistol still remained at full cock, pointed straight at his head. +'Your horse next,' demanded the stranger. 'It is a good beast. Though +not as swift as mine I can find a use for it in my profession. +Dismount; or I fire.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_431" id="Page_431">[431]</a></span>In perfect silence Leonard dismounted, making no objection, and gave +his horse's bridle into the highwayman's outstretched hand. Then at +last, the threatened pistol was lowered, and replaced in the robber's +belt. Throwing the folds of his long cloak over one shoulder, and +carefully adjusting his mask, that not a glimpse of either face or +figure should betray his identity, he prepared to depart, leaving his +victim penniless and afoot on the wide, desolate moor. But, though the +highwayman had now finished with the Quaker, the Quaker had by no +means finished with the highwayman.</p> + +<p>It was now Leonard's turn to be aggressive. Standing there on the +bleak road, alone and unarmed, Leonard Fell raised a warning hand, and +solemnly rebuked his assailant for his evil deeds. At the same time he +admonished him that it was not yet too late for him to repent and lead +a righteous life, before his hour for repentance should be forever +passed.</p> + +<p>This was a most surprising turn of events for the highwayman. At first +he listened silently, too much astonished to speak. Leonard however +did not mince matters, and before he had finished his exhortation the +other man was in a furious rage. Never before had any of his victims +treated him in this fashion. Curses, tears, despair, those were all to +be expected in his 'profession'; but this extraordinary man was +neither beseeching him for money nor swearing at him in anger. His +victim was merely giving a solemn, yet almost friendly warning to the +robber of his horse and of his gold.</p> + +<p>'You, you cowardly dog!' blustered Leonard's assailant. 'You let me +rob you of your purse and of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_432" id="Page_432">[432]</a></span>your steed like a craven! You could not +even pluck up courage to defend yourself. Yet now, you actually dare +to stand and preach at <span class="fakesc">ME</span>, in the middle of the King's +highway?'</p> + +<p>The pistol was out again with a flourish. This time Leonard faced it +calmly, making no movement to defend himself.</p> + +<p>'I would not risk my life to defend either my money or my horse,' he +answered, looking up straight at the muzzle with a steady eye, 'but I +will lay it down gladly, if by so doing I can save thy soul.'</p> + +<p>This unexpected answer was altogether too much for the highwayman. +Though his finger was already on the trigger of the pistol, that +trigger was never pulled. He sat motionless on his horse, staring +through the holes in his mask, down into the eyes of his intended +victim, as if he would read his inmost soul.</p> + +<p>This astonishing man, whom he had taken for a coward, was calmly ready +and was apparently quite willing to give his life—his life!—in order +to save his enemy's soul. The robber had almost forgotten that he had +a soul. His manhood was black and stained now by numberless deeds of +violence, by crimes, too many remembered and far more forgotten. Yet +he had once known what it was to feel tender and white and innocent. +He had certainly possessed a soul long ago. Did it still exist? +Apparently the stranger was convinced that it must, since he was +actually prepared to stake his own life upon its eternal welfare. +Surprising man! He really cared what became of a robber's soul. It was +impossible to wish to murder or even to steal from such an one. There +could not be another like him, the wide world over. He had best <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_433" id="Page_433">[433]</a></span>be +allowed to continue on his unique adventure of discovering souls, a +much more dangerous career it seemed to be than any mere everyday +highwayman's 'profession.'</p> + +<p>As these thoughts passed through the robber's mind, his hand sought +the folds of his cloak, and then drawing Leonard's purse forth from a +deep convenient pocket, he returned it to its owner, stooping over +him, as he did so, with a low and courtly bow. Next, putting the +horse's bridle also back into Leonard's hand, 'If you are such a man +as that,' the highwayman said, 'I will take neither your money nor +your horse!'</p> + +<p>A moment later, as if already ashamed of his impulsive generosity, he +set spurs to his horse and disappeared as swiftly as he had come.</p> + +<p>Leonard, meanwhile, remounting, pursued his way in safety, with both +his horse and his money once more restored to him. But more precious, +by far, than either, was the knowledge that his friend's teaching had +again been proved to be true. In his own experience he had discovered +that there really and truly is an Inward Light that does shine still, +even in the hearts of wicked men. Thus was Leonard Fell in his turn +enabled to 'put these things in practice.'</p> + + +<h4>II</h4> + +<h4>ON THE ROAD TO JERUSALEM</h4> + +<p>A few years later, on another desolate road, crossing another lonely +plain, another traveller met with a very similar adventure thousands +of miles away from England. Only this traveller's experiences were +much <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_434" id="Page_434">[434]</a></span>worse than Leonard Fell's. He was not only attacked by three +robbers instead of one alone, but this happened amid many other far +worse dangers and narrower escapes. Possibly he even looked back, in +after days, to his encounter with the robbers as one of the pleasanter +parts of his journey!</p> + +<p>This traveller's name was George Robinson, and he was an English +Quaker and a London youth. He has left the record of his experiences +in a few closely printed pages at the end of a very small book.</p> + +<p>'In the year 1657,' he writes, 'about the beginning of the seventh +month [September], as I was waiting upon the Lord in singleness of +heart, His blessed presence filled me and by the power of His Spirit +did command me to go unto Jerusalem, and further said to me, "Thy +sufferings shall be great, but I will bear thee over them all."'</p> + +<p>This was no easy journey for anyone in those days, least of all for a +poor man such as George Robinson. However, he set out obediently, and +went by ship to Leghorn in Italy. There he waited a fortnight until he +could get a passage in another ship bound for St. Jean d'Acre, on the +coast of Palestine, where centuries before Richard C[oe]ur de Lion had +disembarked with his Crusaders. Innumerable other pilgrims had landed +there, since Richard's time, on their way to see the Holy Places at +Jerusalem. George Robinson refused to call himself a pilgrim, but he +had a true pilgrim's heart that no difficulties could turn back or +dismay.</p> + +<p>After staying for eight days in the house of a French merchant at +Acre, he set sail in yet a third ship that was bound for Joppa (or +Jaffa, as it is called now). 'But the wind rising against us,' +Robinson says in his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_435" id="Page_435">[435]</a></span>narrative, 'we came to an anchor and the next +morning divers Turks came aboard, and demanded tribute of those called +Christians in the vessel, which they paid for fear of sufferings but +very unwillingly, their demands being very unreasonable, and in like +manner demanded of me, but I refusing to pay as according to their +demands, they threatened to beat the soles of my feet with a stick, +and one of them would have put his hand into my pocket, but the +chiefest of them rebuked him. Soon after they began to take me out of +the vessel to effect their work, but one of the Turks belonging to the +vessel speaking to them as they were taking me ashore, they let me +alone, wherein I saw the good Hand of God preserving me.... After +this, about three or four days we came to Joppa.'</p> + +<p>And there at Joppa (or Jaffa), where Jonah long ago had embarked for +Tarshish, and where Peter on the house-top had had his vision of the +great white sheet, our traveller landed. He proceeded straightway on +what he hoped would have been the last stage of his long journey to +Jerusalem.</p> + +<p>Alas! he was mistaken. A few pleasant hours of travel he had, as he +passed through the palm-groves that encircle the city of Jaffa, and +over the first few miles of dusty road that cross the famous Plain of +Sharon. Ever as he journeyed he could see the tall tower of Ramleh, +built by the Crusaders hundreds of years before, growing taller as he +approached, rising in the sunset like a rosy finger to beckon him +across the Plains. When he reached it, in the shadow of the tall Tower +enemies were lurking. Certain friars up at Jerusalem, in the hilly +country that borders the plain, had heard from their brethren at Acre +that a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_436" id="Page_436">[436]</a></span>heretic stranger from England was coming on foot to visit the +Holy City. Now these friars, although they called themselves +Franciscans, were no true followers of St. Francis, the 'little poor +man of God,' that gentlest saint and truest lover of holy poverty and +holy peace. These Jerusalem friars had forgotten his teaching, and +lived on the gains they made off pilgrims; therefore, hearing that the +heretic stranger from heretic England was travelling independently and +not on a pilgrimage, they feared that he might spoil their business at +the Holy Shrines. Accordingly they sent word to their brethren, the +friars of Ramleh in the plain, to waylay him and turn him back as soon +as he had reached the first stage of his journey from Jaffa on the +coast.</p> + +<p>'The friars of Jerusalem,' says Robinson, 'hearing of my coming, gave +orders unto some there [at Ramleh] to stay me, which accordingly was +done; for I was taken and locked up in a room for one night and part +of the day following, and then had liberty to go into the yard, but as +a prisoner; in which time the Turks showed friendship unto me, one +ancient man especially, of great repute, who desired that I might come +to his house, which thing being granted, he courteously entertained +me.'</p> + +<p>Four or five days later there came down an Irish friar from Jerusalem +to see the prisoner. At first he spoke kindly to him, and greeted him +as a fellow-countryman, seeing that they both came from the distant +Isles of Britain, set in their silver seas. Presently it appeared, +however, that he had not come out of friendship, but as a messenger +from the friars at Jerusalem, to insist that the Englishman must make +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_437" id="Page_437">[437]</a></span>five solemn promises before he could be allowed to proceed on his +journey. He must promise:</p> + +<div class="block2"><p>'1. That he would visit the Holy Places [so the friar called them] as +other pilgrims did.</p> + +<p>2. And give such sums of money as is the usual manner of pilgrims.</p> + +<p>3. Wear such a sort of habit as is the manner of pilgrims.</p> + +<p>4. Speak nothing against the Turks' laws.</p> + +<p>5. And when he came to Jerusalem not to speak anything about +religion.'</p></div> + +<p>George Robinson had no intention of promising any one of these +things—much less all five. 'I stand in the will of God, and shall do +as He bids me,' was the only answer he would make, which did not +satisfy the Irish friar. Determined that his journey should not have +been in vain, and persuasion having proved useless, he sought to +accomplish his object by force. Taking his prisoner, therefore, he set +him on horseback, and surrounding him with a number of armed guards, +both horsemen and footmen, whom he had brought down from Jerusalem for +the purpose, he himself escorted George Robinson back for the second +time to Jaffa. There, that very day, he put him aboard a vessel on the +point of sailing for Acre. Then, clattering back with his guards +across the plain of Sharon, the Irish friar probably assured the +Ramleh friars that they had nothing more to fear from that heretic.</p> + +<p>Nothing could turn George Robinson from his purpose. He was still +quite sure that his Master had work for His servant to do in His Own +City of Jerusalem; and, therefore, to Jerusalem that servant must go. +He was obliged to stay for three weeks at <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_438" id="Page_438">[438]</a></span>Acre before he could find a +ship to carry him southwards again. He lodged at this time at the +house of a kind French merchant called by the curious name of Surrubi.</p> + +<p>'A man,' Robinson says, 'that I had never seen before (that I knew +of), who friendly took me into his house as I was passing along, where +I remained about twenty days.'</p> + +<p>Surrubi was a most courteous host to his Quaker visitor. He used to +say that he was sure God had sent him to his house as an honoured +guest. 'For,' he continued, 'when my own countrymen come to me, they +are little to me, but thee I can willingly receive.' 'The old man +would admire the Lord's doing in this thing, and he did love me +exceedingly much,' his visitor records gratefully. 'But the friars had +so far prevailed with the Consul that in twenty days I could not be +received into a vessel for to go to Jerusalem, so that I knew not but +to have gone by land; yet it was several days' journey, and I knew not +the way, not so much as out of the city, besides the great difficulty +there is in going through the country beyond my expression; yet I, not +looking at the hardships but at the heavenly will of our Lord, I was +made to cry in my heart, "Lord, Thy will be done and not mine." And so +being prepared to go, and taking leave of the tender old man, he +cried, "I should be destroyed if I went by land," and would not let me +go.'</p> + +<p>The friars had told the Consul that Robinson had refused to accept +their conditions, 'He will turn Turk,' they said, 'and be a devil.' +But, thanks to Surrubi's kindness and help, after much trouble +Robinson was at length set aboard another ship bound <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_439" id="Page_439">[439]</a></span>for the south. +And thus after bidding a grateful farewell to his host, he made a +quick passage and came for the second time to Jaffa. Again he set +forth on his last perilous journey. Only a few miles of fertile plain +to cross, only a few hours of climbing up the dim blue hills that were +already in view on the horizon, and then at last he should reach his +goal, the Holy City.</p> + +<p>Even yet it was not to be! This time his troubles began before ever he +came within sight of the tall Tower of Ramleh, under whose shadow his +enemies, the friars, were still lying in wait for him. He says that +having 'left the ship and paid his passage, and having met with many +people on the way, they peacefully passed him by until he had gone +about six miles out of Jaffa.' But on the long straight road that runs +like a dusty white ribbon across the wide parched Plain of Sharon, he +beheld three other figures coming towards him. Two of them rode on the +stately white asses used by travellers of the East. The third, a +person of less consequence, followed on foot. As they came nearer, our +traveller noticed that they all carried guns as well as fierce-looking +daggers stuck in their swathed girdles. However, arms are no unusual +accompaniments for a journey in that country, so Robinson still hoped +to be allowed to pass with a peaceable salutation. Instead of bowing +themselves in return, according to the beautiful Oriental custom, with +the threefold gesture that signifies 'My head, my lips, and my heart +are all at your service,' and the spoken wish that his day might be +blessed, the three men rushed at the English wayfarer and threw +themselves upon him, demanding money. One <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_440" id="Page_440">[440]</a></span>man held a gun with its +muzzle touching Robinson's breast, another searched his pockets and +took out everything that he could find, while the third held the +asses. 'I, not resisting them,' is their victim's simple account, +'stood in the fear of the Lord, who preserved me, for they passed +away, and he that took my things forth of my pockets put them up +again, taking nothing from me, nor did me the least harm. But one of +them took me by the hand and led me on my way in a friendly manner, +and so left me.... So I, passing through like dangers through the +great love of God, which caused me to magnify His holy name, came, +though in much weakness of body, to Ramleh.'</p> + +<p>At Ramleh worse dangers even than he had met with on his former visit +were awaiting him. Many more perils and hairbreadth escapes had yet to +be surmounted before he could say that his feet—his tired feet—had +stood 'within thy gates, O Jerusalem.' Throughout these later +hardships his faith must have been strengthened by the memory of his +encounter with the robbers, and the victory won by the everlasting +power of meekness.</p> + +<p>East or West, the Master's command can always be followed: the command +not to fight evil with evil, but to overcome evil with good.</p> + +<p>Leonard Fell was given his opportunity of 'putting in practice the +things he had learned' as he travelled in England. Our later pilgrim +had the honour of being tested in the Holy Land itself:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">'In those holy fields,<br /></span> +<span class="i0a">Over whose acres walked those blessed feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0a">Which [nineteen] hundred years ago were nailed<br /></span> +<span class="i0a">For our advantage on the bitter cross.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="XXVIII_SILVER_SLIPPERS" id="XXVIII_SILVER_SLIPPERS"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_441" id="Page_441">[441]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h3>XXVIII. SILVER SLIPPERS: <br />OR A QUAKERESS AMONG THE TURKS</h3> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'If romance, like laughter, is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_442" id="Page_442">[442]</a></span> +the child of sudden glory, the +figure of Mary Fisher is the most +romantic in the early Quaker +annals.'<span class="fakesc">—MABEL +BRAILSFORD</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Truly Mary Fisher is a precious +heart, and hath been very +serviceable here.'<span class="fakesc">—HENRY +FELL</span> to Margt. Fell. +(Barbadoes, 1656.)</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'My dear Father ... Let me not be +forgotten of thee, but let thy +prayers be for me that I may +continue faithful to the end. If +any of your Friends be free to +come over, they may be +serviceable; here are many +convinced, and many desire to know +the way, so I rest.'<span class="fakesc">—MARY +FISHER</span> to George Fox. +(Barbadoes, 1655.)</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'This English maiden would not be +at rest before she went in purpose +to the great Emperor of the Turks, +and informed him concerning the +errors of his religion and the +truth of hers.'<span class="fakesc">—GERARD +CROESE</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Henceforth, my daughter, do +manfully and without hesitation +those things which by the ordering +of providence will be put into thy +hands; for being now armed with +the fortitude of the faith, thou +wilt happily overcome all thy +adversaries.'<span class="fakesc">—CATHERINE OF +SIENA</span>.</i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_443" id="Page_443">[443]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>XXVIII. SILVER SLIPPERS: <br />OR A QUAKERESS AMONG THE TURKS</h3> +<br /> + +<h4>I</h4> + + +<p>The Grand Turk had removed his Court from Constantinople. His +beautiful capital city by the Golden Horn was in disgrace, on account +of the growing disaffection of its populace and the frequent mutinies +of its garrison. For the wars of Sultan Mahomet against the Republic +of Venice were increasingly unpopular in his capital, whose treasuries +were being drained to furnish constant relays of fresh troops for +further campaigns. Therefore, before its citizens became even more +bankrupt in their allegiance than they already were in their purses, +the ancient Grand Vizier advised his young master to withdraw, for a +while, the radiance of his imperial countenance from the now sullen +city beside the Golden Horn. Thus it came about that in the late +autumn of 1657, Sultan Mahomet, accompanied by his aged minister, +suddenly departed with his whole Court, and took up his residence +close outside the still loyal city of Adrianople. His state entry into +that town was of surpassing splendour, since both the Sultan and his +Minister were desirous to impress the citizens, in order to persuade +them to open their purse-strings and reveal their hidden hoards. +Moreover, they were ever more wishful to dazzle and overawe the +Venetian Ambassador, Ballerino, who was still kept by them, +unrighteously, a prisoner in the said town.</p> + +<p>A full hour or more was the long cavalcade in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_444" id="Page_444">[444]</a></span>passing over the narrow +stone bridge that spans the turbid Maritza outside the walls of +Adrianople. In at the great gate, and down the one, long, meandering +street of the city, the imperial procession wound, moving steadily and +easily along, since, an hour or two previously, hundreds of slaves had +filled up the cavernous holes in the roadway with innumerable barrel +loads of sawdust, in honour of the Sultan's arrival. Surrounded by +multitudes of welcoming citizens, the procession wound its way at +length out on the far side of the city. There, amid a semicircle of +low hills, clothed with chestnut woods, the imperial encampment of +hundreds and thousands of silken tents shone glistening in the +sun.<a name="FNanchor_39_39" id="FNanchor_39_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_39_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a></p> + +<p>In one of the most splendid apartments of the Sultan's own most +magnificent pavilion, the two chief personages who presided over this +marvellous silken city might have been seen, deep in conversation, one +sultry evening in June 1658, a few months after the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_445" id="Page_445">[445]</a></span>Court had taken +up its residence outside the walls of Adrianople. They formed a +strange contrast: the boy Sultan and his aged Grand Vizier, Kuprüli +the Albanian. Sultan Mahomet, the 'Grand Seignior' of the whole +Turkish Empire, was no strong, powerful man, but a mere stripling who +had been scarred and branded for life, some say even deformed, by an +attack made upon him in earliest infancy by his own unnatural father, +the Sultan Ibrahim. This cruel maniac (whose only excuse was that he +was not in possession of more than half his wits at the time) had been +seized with a fit of ungovernable rage against the ladies of his +harem, and in his fury had done his best to slay his own son and heir. +Happily he had not succeeded in doing more than maim the child, and, +before long, imprisonment and the bow-string put an end to his +dangerous career. But though the boy Sultan had escaped with his life, +and had now reached the age of sixteen years, he never attained to an +imposing presence. He has been described as 'a monster of a man, +deformed in body and mind, stupid, logger-headed, cruel, fierce as to +his visage,' though this would seem to be an exaggeration, since +another account speaks of him as 'young and active, addicted wholly to +the delight of hunting and to follow the chase of fearful and flying +beasts.' In order to have more leisure for these sports he was wont to +depute all the business of government to his Grand Vizier, the aged +Albanian chieftain Kuprüli, who now, bending low before his young +master, so that the hairs of his white beard almost swept the ground, +was having one of his farewell audiences before departing for the +battlefield. Kuprüli, though over eighty years of age, was about <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_446" id="Page_446">[446]</a></span>to +face danger for the sake of the boy ruler, who lounged luxuriously on +his cushions, glittering with jewels, scented and effeminate, with +sidelong, cunning glances and cruel lips. Yet even Sultan Mahomet, +touched by his aged Minister's devotion, had been fired with unwonted +generosity: 'Ask what you will and you shall have it, even unto the +half of my kingdom,' he was exclaiming with true Oriental fervour.</p> + +<p>The Grand Vizier again swept the ground with his long white beard, +protesting that he was but a humble dead dog in his master's sight, +and that one beam from the imperial eyes was a far more precious +reward than the gold and jewels of the whole universe. Nevertheless, +the Sultan detected a shade of hesitation in spite of the +magniloquence of this refusal. There was something the Grand Vizier +wished to ask. He must be yet further encouraged.</p> + +<p>'Thou hast a boon at heart; I read it in thy countenance,' the Sultan +continued, 'ask and fear not. Be it my fairest province for thy +revenues, my fleetest Arab for thy stable, my whitest Circassian +beauty for thine own, thou canst demand it at this moment without +fear.' So saying, as if to prove his words, he waved away with one +hand the Court Executioner who stood ever at his side when he gave +audience, ready to avenge the smallest slip in etiquette.</p> + +<p>The Grand Vizier looked on the ground, still hesitating and troubled, +'The Joy of the flourishing tree and the Lord of all Magnificence is +my Lord,' he answered slowly, 'the gift I crave is unworthy of his +bountiful goodness. How shall one small speck of dust be noticed in +the full blaze of the noonday sun? Yet, in truth, I have promised this +mere speck of dust, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_447" id="Page_447">[447]</a></span>this white stranger woman, by the mouth of my +interpreter, that I would mention to my lord's sublimity her desire to +bask in the sunshine of his rays and——'</p> + +<p>'A white, stranger woman,' interrupted the Sultan eagerly, 'desiring +to see me? Nay, then, the boon is of thy giving, not of mine. Tell me +more! Yet it matters not. Were she beauteous as the crescent at even, +or ill-favoured as a bird of prey, she shall yet be welcome for thy +sake, O faithful Servant, be she a slave or a queen. Tell me only her +name and whence she comes.'</p> + +<p>Again the Grand Vizier made obeisance. 'Neither foul nor fair, neither +young nor old, neither slave nor queen,' he replied. 'She is in truth +a marvel, like to none other these eyes have seen in all their +fourscore years and more. Tender as the dewdrop is her glance; yet +cold as snow is her behaviour. Weak as water in her outward seeming; +yet firm and strong as ice is she in strength of inward purpose.'</p> + +<p>'Of what nation is this Wonder?' enquired the Sultan. 'She can +scarcely be a follower of the Prophet, on whom be peace, since thou +appearest to have gazed upon her unveiled countenance?'</p> + +<p>'Nay, herein is the greatest marvel,' returned the Minister, 'it is an +Englishwoman, come hither in unheard fashion over untrodden ways, with +a tale to tickle the ears. She tells my interpreter (who alone, as +yet, hath spoken with her) that her home is in the cold grey isle of +Britain. That there she dwelt many years in lowly estate, being indeed +but a serving-maid in a town called Yorkshire; or so my interpreter +understands. She saith that there she heard the voice of Allah +Himself, calling her to be His Minister and Messenger, heard and +straightway obeyed. Sayeth, moreover, that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_448" id="Page_448">[448]</a></span>she hath already travelled +in His service beyond the utmost western sea, even to the new land +discovered by that same Cristofero of Genoa, whose fellow citizens are +at this hour dwelling in our city yonder. Sayeth that in that far +western land she hath been beaten and imprisoned. Yet, nevertheless, +she was forbidden to rest at home until she had carried her message +"as far to the East as to the West," or some such words. That having +thus already visited the land where sleeps the setting sun of western +skies, she craveth now an audience with the splendid morning Sun, the +light of the whole East; even the Grand Seignior, who is as the Shade +of God Himself.'</p> + +<p>'For what purpose doth she desire an audience?' enquired the Sultan +moodily.</p> + +<p>'Being a mere woman and therefore without skill, she can use only +simple words,' answered the Grand Vizier. '"Tell the Sultan I have +something to declare unto him from the Most High God," such is her +message; but who heedeth what a woman saith? "Never give ear to the +counsels and advices of woman" is the chiefest word inscribed upon the +heart of a wise king, as I have counselled ever. Yet, this once, +seeing that this maiden is wholly unlike all other women, it might be +well to let her bask in the rays of glory rather than turn her +unsatisfied away——.' The Vizier paused expectantly. The Sultan +remained looking down, toying with the pearl and turquoise sheath of +the dagger stuck in his girdle. 'A strange tale,' he said at last, 'it +interests me not, although I feel an unknown Power that forces me to +listen to thy words. Her name?' he suddenly demanded, lifting his eyes +once more to his Minister's face.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_449" id="Page_449">[449]</a></span>'She gives it not,' returned the other, 'speaketh of herself as but a +Messenger, repeating ever, "Not I, but His Word." Yet my interpreter, +having caused enquiries to be made, findeth that those with whom she +lodgeth in the city do speak of her as Maree. Also, some peasants who +found her wandering on the mountains when the moon was full, and +brought her hither, speak of her by the name of Miriam. Marvelling at +the whiteness of her skin, they deem she is a witch or Moon Maiden +come hither by enchantment. Yet must she on no account be hurt or +disregarded, they say, since she is wholly guileless of evil spells, +and under the special protection of Issa Ben Miriam, seeing that she +beareth his mother's name.'</p> + +<p>The Sultan was growing impatient. 'A fit tale for ignorant peasants,' +he declared. 'Me it doth not deceive. This is but another English +vagabond sent hither by that old jackal Sir Thomas Bendish, their +Ambassador at Constantinople, to dog my footsteps even here, and +report my doings to him. I will not see her, were she ten times a +witch, since she is of his nation and surely comes at his behest.'</p> + +<p>'Let my lord slay his servant with his own hands rather than with his +distrust,' returned the Grand Vizier. 'Had she come from Sir Thomas +Bendish, or by his orders, straightway to him she should have +returned. She hath never even seen him, nor so much as set eyes on our +sacred city beside the Golden Horn. Had she gazed even from a distance +upon the most holy Mosque of the Sacred Wisdom at Constantinople, she +had surely been less utterly astonished at the sight of even our noble +Sultan Selim in this city.' So saying, the Grand Vizier turned to the +entrance of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_450" id="Page_450">[450]</a></span>the pavilion, and gazed towards the town of Adrianople +lying in the plain beneath, beyond the poplar-bordered stream of the +Maritza. High above all other buildings rose the great Mosque of +Sultan Selim, with its majestic dome surrounded by slender +sky-piercing minarets. Its 999 windows shone glorious in the rays of +the setting sun:—Sultan Selim, the glory of Adrianople, the ruin of +the architect who schemed its wondrous beauty; since he, poor wretch, +was executed on the completion of the marvel, for this crime only, +that he had placed 999 windows within its walls, and had missed, +though but by one, the miracle of a full thousand.</p> + +<p>The Vizier continued: 'The woman declares she hath come hither on +foot, alone and unattended. Her tale is that she came by the sea from +the Isles of Britain with several companions (filled all of them with +the same desire to behold the face of the Sublime Magnificence) so far +as Smyrna; where, declaring their wish unto the English Consul there, +he, like a wise-hearted man, advised her and her companions "by all +means to forbear."</p> + +<p>'They not heeding and still urgently beseeching him to bring them +further on their journey, the Consul dissembled and used guile. +Therefore, the while he pretended all friendliness and promised to +help forward their enterprise, he in truth set them instead on board a +ship bound for Venice and no wise for Constantinople, hoping thereby +to thwart their purpose, and to force them to return to their native +land. Some of the company, discovering this after the ship had set +sail, though lamenting, did resign themselves to their fate. Only this +maid, strong <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_451" id="Page_451">[451]</a></span>in soul, would not be turned from her purpose, but +declared constantly that Allah, who had commanded her to come, would +surely bring her there where He would have her, even to the presence +of the Grand Seignior himself. And lo! even as she spoke, a violent +storm arose, the ship was driven out of her course and cast upon the +Island of Zante with its rugged peaks; and there, speaking to the +ship-master, she persuaded him to put her ashore on the opposite coast +of the mainland, even at the place known as the Black Mountain; and +thence she hath made her way hither on foot, alone, and hath met with +nothing but lovingkindness from young and old, so she saith, as the +Messenger of the Great King.'</p> + +<p>The Sultan's interest was aroused at last: 'Afoot—from the Black +Mountain!—incredible! A woman, and alone! It is a journey of many +hundreds of miles, and through wild, mountainous country. What proof +hast thou that she speaketh truly?'</p> + +<p>'My interpreter hath questioned her closely as to her travels. His +home is in that region, and he is convinced that she has indeed seen +the places she describes. Also, she carries ever in her breast a small +sprig of fadeless sea-lavender that groweth only on the Black Mountain +slopes, and sayeth that the sea captain plucked it as he set her +ashore, telling her that it was even as her courage, seeing that it +would never fade.'</p> + +<p>But the Sultan's patience was exhausted: 'I must see this woman and +judge for myself, not merely hear of her from aged lips,' he +exclaimed. 'Witch or woman—moonbeam or maiden—she shall declare +herself in my presence. Only, since she doth dare to call <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_452" id="Page_452">[452]</a></span>herself the +messenger of the Most High God, let her be accorded the honours of an +Ambassador, that all men may know that the Sultan duly regardeth the +message of Allah.'</p> + + +<h4>II</h4> + +<p>On a divan of silken cushions in the guest chamber of a house in the +city of Adrianople, a woman lay, still and straight. Midnight was long +past. Outside, the hot wind could be heard every now and then, +listlessly flapping the carved wooden lattice-work shutters of an +overhanging balcony built out on timber props over the river Maritza, +whose turbid waters surged beneath with steady plash. Inside, the +striped silken curtains were closely drawn. The atmosphere was stuffy +and airless, filled with languorous aromatic spices.</p> + +<p>Mary Fisher could not sleep: she lay motionless as the slow hours +passed; gazing into the darkness with wide, unseeing eyes, while she +thought of all that the coming day would bring. The end of her +incredible journey was at hand. The Grand Vizier's word was pledged. +The Grand Turk himself would grant her an audience before the hour of +noon, to receive her Message from the Great King.</p> + +<p>Her Message. Through all the difficulties and dangers of her journey, +that Message had sustained her. As she had tramped over steep mountain +ranges, or won a perilous footing in the water-courses of dry hillside +torrents, more like staircases than roads, thoughts and words had +often rushed unbidden to her mind and even to her lips. No +difficulties could daunt her with that Message still undelivered. Many +an evening as she lay down beneath the gnarled trees of an olive +grove, or cooled her aching feet in the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_453" id="Page_453">[453]</a></span>waters of some clear stream, +far beyond any bodily refreshment the intense peace of the Message she +was sent to deliver had quieted the heart of the weary messenger. Only +now that her goal was almost reached, all power of speech or thought +seemed to be taken from her. But, though a candle may burn low, may +even for a time be extinguished, it still carries securely within it +the possibility of flame. Even so the Messenger of the Great King lay, +hour after hour, in the hot night silence; not sleeping, yet smiling: +physically exhausted, yet spiritually unafraid.</p> + +<p>The heat within the chamber became at length unbearably oppressive to +one accustomed, as Mary Fisher had been for weeks past, to sleeping +under the open sky. Stretching up a thin white arm through the scented +darkness, she managed to unfasten the silken cords and buttons of the +curtain above her, and to let in a rush of warm night air. It was +still too early for the reviving breeze to spring up that would herald +the approach of dawn: too early for even the earliest of the orange +hawks, that haunted the city in the daytime, to be awake. Cuddled +close in cosy nests under the wide eaves, their slumbers were +disturbed for a moment as Mary, half sitting up, shook the pierced +lattice-work of the shutters that formed the sides of her apartment. +Peering through the interstices of fragrant wood, she caught sight of +a wan crescent moon, just appearing behind a group of chestnut-trees +on the opposite hill above the river.</p> + +<p>The crescent moon! Her guide over sea and land! Had she not come half +round the world to proclaim to the followers of that same Crescent, a +people truly sitting in gross darkness, the message of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_454" id="Page_454">[454]</a></span>One true +Light?</p> + +<p>However long the midnight hours, dawn surely must be nigh at hand. +Before long, that waning Crescent must set and disappear, and the Sun +of Righteousness arise with healing in His wings.</p> + +<p>There lay the slumbering flame of her wondrous Message. The right +words wherewith to kindle that flame in the hearts of others would +surely be given when the right hour came, however unworthy the +Messenger.</p> + +<p>'As far as the East is from the West,' the weary woman thought to +herself, while the scenes of her wondrous journey across two +hemispheres rushed back unbidden to her mind—'even so far hath He +removed our transgressions from us.'</p> + +<p>At that moment, the eagerly awaited breeze of dawn passed over her hot +temples, soothing her like a friend. Refreshed and strengthened, she +lay down once more, still and straight; her smooth hair braided round +her head; her hands crossed calmly on her breast; in a repose as quiet +and austere, even upon those yielding Oriental cushions, as when she +lay upon her hard, narrow pallet bed at home.</p> + +<p>Before the first apricot flush of dawn crept up the eastern sky, Mary +Fisher had sunk into a tranquil sleep.</p> + + +<h4>III</h4> + +<p>It was broad daylight, though still early, when she awoke. Outside, +the garden behind the house was now a rippling sea of rose and scarlet +poppies, above which the orange hawks swooped or dived like copper +anchors, in the crisp morning air. Within doors, a slave girl stood +beside the divan in the guest chamber, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_455" id="Page_455">[455]</a></span>clapping her hands gently +together to cause the white stranger to awake. But the chamber seemed +full of moonlight, although it was broad day. Had the waning crescent +retraced her footsteps, or left behind some of her chill beams? Mary +Fisher rubbed her eyes. She must surely be dreaming still! Then, +waking fully, she saw that the moon-like radiance came from a heap of +silvery gauze draperies, reflected in the emerald green tiles of the +floor and in the tall narrow mirrors that separated the lattice-work +shutters.</p> + +<p>A flowing robe of silver tissue was spread out over an ottoman in the +centre of the floor. The slave girl at her side was holding up a long +veil of shimmering silver, drawing it through her henna-stained +finger-tips, with low, gurgling cries of delight; then, stretching out +her arms wide, she spread the veil easily to their fullest extent. A +moment later, drawing a tiny ring from her finger, she had pressed the +veil as easily through the small golden circlet, so fine were the +silken folds. Then with significant gestures she explained that all +these treasures were for the stranger to wear instead of her own +apparel. With scornful glances from her dark almond-shaped eyes she +pointed disdainfully to Mary Fisher's own simple garments, which, at +her entrance, she had tossed contemptuously into a heap on the floor.</p> + +<p>The plain, grey, Quakeress's dress did indeed look simpler than ever +amid all the shining Oriental splendour. Worn too it was, and +travel-stained in places, though newly washed, carefully mended and +all ready for use.</p> + +<p>Mary Fisher had been a woman for many years before she became a +Quakeress. Nay more, she was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_456" id="Page_456">[456]</a></span>a woman still. It is possible that, for +about the space of half a minute, she may have looked almost +regretfully at the silver tissue draperies and the gauze veil.</p> + +<p>Half a minute. Not longer! For her, a Messenger of the Great King, to +clothe herself in garments worn by Turkish women, unbelievers, +followers of the False Prophet, was impossible, not to be contemplated +for an instant. With the gentleness of complete decision she dismissed +the slave girl, who departed reluctantly towards the women's +apartments. In spite of the froth of shining, billowy folds with which +her arms were full, she turned round as she parted the striped, silken +hangings of the doorway and drew her dusky orange finger-tips in a +significant gesture across her slender brown throat. It was obvious +that the slave girl considered this refusal a very serious breach of +etiquette indeed!</p> + +<p>Left alone, Mary Fisher clothed herself, proudly and yet humbly, in +her own simple garments. Her body bore even yet the marks where cruel +scourgings in her youth had furrowed deep scars from head to waist. +Years ago thus had English Christians received her, when she and her +companion had been whipped until the blood ran down their backs +beneath the market cross at Cambridge. The two young girls were the +first of any of the Friends to be thus publicly scourged. 'This is but +the beginning of the sufferings of the people of God,' Mary had +exclaimed prophetically, as the first stroke of the lash fell on her +shoulders, while the assembled multitudes listened in amazement as the +two suffering women went on to pray for mercy on their persecutors.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_457" id="Page_457">[457]</a></span>While here, in Adrianople, under the Crescent, the Infidel Turk, to +whom she had come in the power of the very same Message for which she +had suffered in Christian countries, was receiving her with kindness +and respect, offering to clothe her body in sumptuous apparel, instead +of with bloody scars....</p> + +<p>Mary Fisher sighed with irrepressible pain at the thought. Looking +down, the marks left by the stocks were also plainly visible under the +sunburn round her ankles, as she stood, bare-footed, on the crimson +rug. She gladly covered up those tell-tale tokens under her white +stockings. But where were her shoes? They seemed to have disappeared. +Although the few strips of worn leather that she had put off the night +before had been scarcely worthy of the name of shoes, their +disappearance might be a grave difficulty. Had they been taken away in +order to force her to appear bare-footed before the Sultan?</p> + +<p>Ah!—here the slave girl was reappearing. Kneeling down, with a +triumphant smile she forced the Englishwoman's small, delicate +feet—hardened, it is true, by many hundreds of miles of rough +travelling, but shapely still—into a little pair of embroidered +silver slippers. Turkish slippers! glistening with silver thread and +crystal beads, turned up at the pointed toes, and finished by two +silver tufted tassels, that peeped out incongruously from under the +straight folds of the simple grey frock.</p> + +<p>This time Mary Fisher yielded submissively and made not the slightest +resistance. It did not matter to her in the least how her feet were +shod, so long as they were shod in some way, and she was saved from +having to pay a mark of homage to the Infidel. As she <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_458" id="Page_458">[458]</a></span>sat with folded +hands on the divan, awaiting the summons of the Grand Vizier, her deep +eyes showed that her thoughts were far, far away from any Silver +Slippers.</p> + + +<h4>IV</h4> + +<p>'Mahomet, sone of the Emperour, sone of God, thrice heavenly and +thrice known as the renowned Emperour of the Turks, King of Greece, +Macedonia and Moldavia, King of Samaria and Hungary, King of Greater +and Lesser Egypt, King of all the inhabitants of the Earth and the +Earthly Paradise, Guardian of the Sepulchre of thy God, Lord of the +Tree of Life, Lord of all the Emperours of the World from the East +even to the West, Grand Persecutor of the Christians and of all the +wicked, the Joy of the flourishing Tree' ... and so forth and so on.</p> + +<p>The owner of all these high-sounding titles was hunched up on his +cushions in the State Pavilion. 'On State occasions, among which it is +evident that he included this Quaker audience, he delighted to deck +his unpleasing person in a vest of cloth of gold, lined with sable of +the richest contrasting blackness. Around him were ranged the servants +of the Seraglio—the highest rank of lacqueys standing nearest the +royal person, the "Paicks" in their embroidered coats and caps of +beaten gold, and the "Solacks," adorned with feathers, and armed with +bows and arrows. Behind them were grouped great numbers of eunuchs and +the Court pages, carrying lances. These wore the peculiar coiffure +permitted only to those of the royal chamber, and above their tresses +hung long caps embroidered with gold.</p> + +<p>'Mary Fisher was ushered into this brilliant scene <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_459" id="Page_459">[459]</a></span>with all the +honours usually accorded to an Ambassador: the Sultan's dragomans +accompanied her and stood waiting to interpret at the interview. She +was at this time about thirty-five years of age, "a maid ... whose +intellectual faculties were greatly adorned by the gravity of her +deportment." ... She must have stood in her simple grey frock, amidst +that riot of gold and scarlet, like a lily in a garden of tulips, her +quiet face shining in that cruel and lustful place with the joy of a +task accomplished, and the sense of the presence of God.'<a name="FNanchor_40_40" id="FNanchor_40_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_40_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a></p> + +<p>Thus she stood, at the goal of her journey at last, in the presence of +the Grand Turk, she the Messenger of the Great King. There was the +Grand Turk, resplendent in his sable and cloth of gold. Opposite to +him stood the gentle Quakeress, in her plain garment of grey Yorkshire +frieze with its spotless deep collar and close-fitting cap of snowy +lawn. Only the Message was wanting now.</p> + +<p>At first no Message came.</p> + +<p>The Sultan, thinking that the woman before him was naturally alarmed +by such unwonted magnificence, spoke to her graciously. 'He asked by +his interpreters (whereof there were three with him) whether it was +true what had been told him that she had something to say to him from +the Lord God. She answered, "Yea." Then he bade her speak on: and she +not being forward, weightily pondering what she might say. "Should he +dismiss his attendants and let her speak with him in the presence of +fewer listeners?" the Grand Turk asked her kindly.' Again came an +uncourtly monosyllabic 'No,' followed by <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_460" id="Page_460">[460]</a></span>another baffling silence.</p> + +<p>The executioner, a hook-nosed Kurd with eyes like a bird of prey, +stationed, as always, at the Sultan's right hand, began to look at the +slight woman in grey with a professional interest. He felt the edge of +his blade with a skilful thumb and fore-finger, and turned keen eyes +from the slender throat of the Quakeress, rising above the folds of +snowy lawn, to the aged neck of the Grand Vizier half hidden by his +long white beard. There might be a double failure in etiquette to +avenge, should the Sultan's pleasure change and this unprecedented +interview prove a failure! The executioner smacked his cruel lips with +pleasure at the thought, looking, in his azalea-coloured garment, like +an orange hawk himself, all ready to pounce on his victims.</p> + +<p>Still Silence reigned:—a keen silence more piercing than the sharpest +Damascene blade. It was piercing its way into one heart already. Not +into the heart of the aged Grand Vizier. The Grand Vizier was frankly +bored, and was, moreover, beginning to be strangely uneasy at his +<i>protégée's</i> unaccountable behaviour. He turned to his interpreter +with an enquiring frown. The interpreter looked yet more +uncomfortable—even terrified. Approaching his master, he began to +whisper profound apologies into his ear, how that he ought to have +warned him that this might happen; the woman had in truth confessed +that she could not tell when the Message would be sent, nor could she +give it a moment before it came: 'Sayeth indeed that her Teacher in +this strange faith hath been known to keep an assembly of over 1000 +people waiting for a matter of three hours, in order <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_461" id="Page_461">[461]</a></span>to "famish them +from words," not daring to open his lips without command.'</p> + +<p>'Thou shouldest indeed have mentioned this before! Allah grant that +this maiden keepeth us not here so long,' retorted the Grand Vizier, +with a scowl of natural impatience, seeing that he was to set forth on +his journey to the battle-field that very day, and that moments were +growing precious, even in the timeless East. Then, turning to the +Sultan, he in his turn began to pour out profuse explanations and +apologies. The uncouth, misshapen figure on the central divan, +however, paid scant heed to his Minister. Right into the fierce, +cruel, passionate heart of Sultan Mahomet that strange silence was +piercing: piercing as no words could have done, through the crust +formed by years of self-seeking and sin, piercing, until it found, +until it quickened, 'That of God within.'</p> + +<p>What happened next must be told in the historian Sewel's own words, +since he doubtless heard the tale from the only person who could tell +it, Mary Fisher herself.</p> + +<p>'The Grand Turk then bade her speak the word of the Lord to them and +not to fear, for they had good hearts and could hear it. He also +charged her to speak the word she had to say from the Lord, neither +more nor less, for they were willing to hear it, be it what it would. +<i>Then she spoke what was upon her mind.</i>'</p> + +<p>She never says what it was. The Message, once delivered, could never +be repeated.</p> + +<p>'The Turks hearkened to her with much attention and gravity until she +had done; and then, the Sultan asking her whether she had anything +more to say? she asked him whether he understood what she <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_462" id="Page_462">[462]</a></span>had said? +He answered, "Yes, every word," and further said that what she had +spoken was truth. Then he desired her to stay in that country, saying +that they could not but respect such an one, as should take so much +pains to come to them so far as from England with a message from the +Lord God. He also proffered her a guard to bring her into +Constantinople, whither she intended. But she, not accepting this +offer, he told her it was dangerous travelling, especially for such an +one as she: and wondered that she had passed safe so far as she had, +saying also that it was in respect for her, and kindness, that he +proffered it, and that he would not for anything she should come to +the least hurt in his dominions. She having no more to say, the Turks +asked her what she thought of their prophet Mahomet? She answered +warily that she knew him not, but Christ the true prophet, the Son of +God, who was the Light of the World, and enlightened every man coming +into the world, Him she knew. And concerning Mahomet, she said that +they might judge of him to be true or false according to the words and +prophecies he spoke; saying further, "If the word of a prophet shall +come to pass, then shall ye know that the Lord hath sent that prophet: +but if it come not to pass, then shall ye know that the Lord never +sent him." The Turks confessed this to be true, and Mary, having +performed her message, departed from the camp to Constantinople +without a guard, whither she came without the least hurt or scoff....'</p> + + +<h4>V</h4> + +<p>Thus Mary returned safe to England, where, if not romance, at any rate +solid happiness awaited <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_463" id="Page_463">[463]</a></span>her in the shape of a certain William Bayly. +He, a Quaker preacher and master mariner, having been himself a great +traveller and having endured repeated imprisonments in distant +countries, could appreciate the courage and success of her +unprecedented journey. At any rate, as the historian quaintly tells +us, he 'thought her worthy to make him a second wife.'</p> + +<p>A few months after her return to England, but while she was still +unmarried, Mary Fisher wrote the following account of her travels to +some of the friends in whose company she had suffered imprisonment in +former days before her great journey.</p> + +<div class="block2"><p class="noin">'My dear love salutes you all in one, you have been often in my +remembrance since I departed from you, and being now returned +into England and many trials, such as I was never tried with +before, yet have borne my testimony for the Lord before the King +unto whom I was sent, and he was very noble unto me, and so were +all they that were about him: he and all that were about him +received the word of truth without contradiction. They do dread +the name of God, many of them, and eyes His messengers. There is +a royal seed amongst them which in time God will raise. They are +more near truth than many Nations, there is a love begot in me +towards them which is endless, but this is my hope concerning +them, that He who hath raised me to love them more than many +others will also raise His seed in them unto which my love is. +Nevertheless, though they be called Turks, the seed of them is +near unto God, and their kindness hath in some measure been +shewn towards His servants. After the word of the Lord was +declared unto them, they would willingly have me to stay in the +country, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_464" id="Page_464">[464]</a></span>when they could not prevail with me, they +proffered me a man and a horse to go five days' journey that was +to Constantinople, but I refused and came safe from them. The +English are more bad, most of them, yet hath a good word gone +through them, and some have received it, but they are few: so I +rest with my dear love to you all—Your dear sister, <span class="fakesc">MARY +FISHER</span>.'</p></div> + + +<h4>VI</h4> + +<p>Forty years later, in 1697, an aged woman was yet alive at Charlestown +in America, who was still remembered as the heroine of the famous +journey so many years before. Although twice widowed since then, and +now with children and grandchildren around her, she was spoken of to +the end by her maiden name. A shipwrecked visitor from the other side +of the Atlantic describes her in his letters home as 'one whose name +you have heard of, Mary Fisher, she that spoke to the Grand Turk.'</p> + +<p>In the dwelling of that ancient widow, however old she grew, however +many other relics she kept—remembrances of her two husbands, of +children and grandchildren—between the pages of her well-worn Bible +was there not always one pressed sprig of the fadeless sea-lavender +that grows on the rocky shores of the Black Mountain? And, somewhere +or other, in the drawer of an inlaid cabinet or work-table there must +have been also one precious packet, carefully tied up with ribbon and +silver paper, in which some favourite grandchild, allowed for a treat +to open it, would find, to her indescribable delight, a little +tasselled pair of Turkish</p> + +<p class="cen">SILVER SLIPPERS.</p> + +<br /> +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<br /> + +<h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_39_39" id="Footnote_39_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39_39"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> A certain Englishman, Paul Rycaut by name, has left a +description of this encampment as he saw it on his visit a short time +afterwards. 'The tents were raised on a small hill, and about 2000 in +number, ranged at that time without order, only the Grand Signior's +seemed to be in the midst to overtop all the rest, well worthy +observation, costing (as was reported) 180,000 dollars, richly +embroidered in the inside with gold. Within the walls of this tent (as +I may so call them) were all sorts of offices belonging to the +Seraglio, apartments for the pages, chiosks or summer-houses for +pleasure, and though I could not get admittance to view the innermost +rooms and chambers, yet by the outward and more common places of +resort I could make a guess at the richness of the rest, being +sumptuous beyond comparison of any in use among Christian princes. On +the right hereof was pitched the Grand Vizier's tent, exceeding rich +and lofty, and had I not seen that of the Sultan before it, I should +have judged it the best that mine eyes had seen. The ostentation and +richness of this empire being evidenced in nothing more than the +richness of their pavilions, sumptuous beyond the fixed palaces of +princes, erected with marble and mortar.'</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_40_40" id="Footnote_40_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_40_40"><span class="label">[40]</span></a> <i>Quaker Women</i>, by Mabel R. Brailsford.</p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="FIERCE_FEATHERS" id="FIERCE_FEATHERS"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_465" id="Page_465">[465]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>XXIX. FIERCE FEATHERS<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'We who were once slayers of one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_466" id="Page_466">[466]</a></span> +another do not now fight against +our enemies.'<span class="fakesc">—JUSTIN +MARTYR</span>. <span class="fakesc">A.D.</span> +140.</i></p></div> + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Victory that is gotten by the +sword is a victory slaves get one +over the other; but victory +contained by love is a victory for +a king.'<span class="fakesc">—GERRARD +WINSTANLEY</span>. 1649.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Here you will come to love God +above all, and your neighbours as +yourselves. Nothing hurts, nothing +harms, nothing makes afraid on +this holy mountain.'<span class="fakesc">—G. +FOX</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'My friends that are gone or are +going over to plant and make +outward plantations in America, +keep your own plantations in your +hearts with the spirit and power +of God, that your own vines and +lilies be not hurt.'<span class="fakesc">—G. +FOX</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Take heed of many words, what +reaches to the life settles in the +life. That which cometh from the +life and is received from God, +reaches to the life and settles +others in the life.'<span class="fakesc">—G. +FOX</span>.</i></p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'An old Indian named Papunehang +appreciated the spirit and +atmosphere of a Friends' meeting, +even if he did not comprehend the +words, telling the interpreter +afterwards, "I love to feel where +words come from."'<span class="fakesc">—A.M. +GUMMERE</span> (from John Woolman's +Journal).</i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_467" id="Page_467">[467]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>XXIX. FIERCE FEATHERS</h3> +<br /> + +<p>The sunlight lay in patches on the steep roof of the Meeting-house of +Easton Township, in the County of Saratoga, in the State of New York. +It was a bright summer morning in the year 1775. The children of +Easton Township liked their wooden house, although it was made only of +rough-hewn logs, nailed hastily together in order to provide some sort +of shelter for the worshipping Friends. They would not, if they could, +have exchanged it for one of the more stately Meeting-houses at home +in England, on the other side of the Atlantic. There, the windows were +generally high up in the walls. English children could see nothing +through the panes but a peep of sky, or the topmost branches of a tall +tree. When they grew tired of looking in the branches of the tree for +an invisible nest that was not there, there was nothing more to be +hoped for, out of those windows. The children's eyes came back inside +the room again, as they watched the slow shadows creep along the +white-washed walls, or tried to count the flies upon the ceiling. But +out here in America there was no need for that. The new Meeting-house +of Easton had nearly as many possibilities as the new world outside. +To begin with, its logs did not fit quite close together. If a boy or +girl happened to be sitting in the corner seat, he or she could often +see, through a chink, right out into the woods. For the untamed +wilderness still stretched away on all sides round the newly-cleared +settlement of Easton.</p> + +<p>Moreover, there were no glass windows in the log <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_468" id="Page_468">[468]</a></span>house as yet, only +open spaces provided with wooden shutters that could be closed, if +necessary, during a summer storm. Another larger, open space at one +end of the building would be closed by a door when the next cold +weather came. At present the summer air met no hindrance as it blew in +softly, laden with the fragrant scents of the flowers and pine-trees, +stirring the children's hair as it lightly passed. Every now and then +a drowsy bee would come blundering in by mistake, and after buzzing +about for some time among the assembled Friends, he would make his +perilous way out again through one of the chinks between the logs. The +children, as they sat in Meeting, always hoped that a butterfly might +also find its way in, some fine day—before the winter came, and +before the window spaces of the new Meeting-house had to be filled +with glass, and a door fastened at the end of the room to keep out the +cold. Especially on a mid-week Meeting like to-day, they often found +it difficult to 'think Meeting thoughts' in the silence, or even to +attend to what was being said, so busy were they, watching for the +entrance of that long desired butterfly.</p> + +<p>For children thought about very much the same kind of things, and had +very much the same kind of difficulties in Meeting, then as now; even +though the place was far away, and it is more than a hundred years +since that sunny morning in Easton Township, when the sunlight lay in +patches on the roof.</p> + +<p>It was not only the children who found silent worship difficult that +still summer morning. There were traces of anxiety on the faces of +many Friends and even on the placid countenances of the Elders in +their raised seats in the gallery. There, at the head of the Meeting, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_469" id="Page_469">[469]</a></span>sat Friend Zebulon Hoxie, the grandfather of most of the children who +were present. Below him sat his two sons. Opposite them, their wives +and families, and a sprinkling of other Friends. The children had +never seen before one of the stranger Friends who sat in the gallery +that day, by their grandfather's side. They had heard that his name +was Robert Nisbet, and that he had just arrived, after having walked +for two days, thirty miles through the wilderness country to sit with +Friends at New Easton at their mid-week Meeting. The children had no +idea why he had come, so they fixed their eyes intently on the +stranger and stirred gently in their seats with relief when at last he +rose to speak. They had liked his kind, open face as soon as they saw +it. They liked still better the sound of the rich, clear voice that +made it easy for even children to listen. But they liked the words of +his text best of all: 'The Belovéd of the Lord shall dwell in safety +by Him. He shall cover them all the day long.'</p> + +<p>Robert Nisbet lingered over the first words of his message as if they +were dear to him. His voice was full and mellow, and the words seemed +as if they were part of the rich tide of summer life that flowed +around. He paused a moment, and then went on, 'And now, how shall the +Belovéd of the Lord be thus in safety covered? Even as saith the +Psalmist, "He shall cover thee with His feathers and under His wings +shalt thou trust."' Then, changing his tones a little and speaking +more lightly, though gravely still, he continued: 'You have done well, +dear Friends, to stay on valiantly in your homes, when all your +neighbours have fled; and therefore are these messages sent to you by +me. These promises of covering and of shelter are <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_470" id="Page_470">[470]</a></span>truly meant for +you. Make them your own and you shall not be afraid for the terror by +night, nor for the arrow that flieth by day.'</p> + +<p>Here the boys and girls on the low benches under the gallery looked at +one another. Now they knew what had brought the stranger! He had come +because he had heard of the danger that threatened the little clearing +of settlers in the woods. For though New Easton and East Hoosack lay +thirty miles apart they were both links in the long chain of Quaker +Settlements that had been formed to separate the territory belonging +to the Dutch Traders (who dwelt near the Hudson River) from the +English Settlements along the valley of the Connecticut. In former +days disputes between the Dutch and English Colonists had been both +frequent and fierce, until at length the Government had conceived the +brilliant idea of establishing a belt of neutral ground between the +disputants, and peopling it with unwarlike Quakers. The plan worked +well. The Friends, in their settlements strung out over a long, narrow +strip of territory, were on friendly terms with their Dutch and +English neighbours on either side. Raids went out of fashion. Peace +reigned, and for a time the authorities were well content.</p> + +<p>A fiercer contest was now brewing, no longer between two handfuls of +Colonists but between the inhabitants of two great Continents. For it +was just before the outbreak of the Revolutionary War of 1775. The +part of the country in which Easton Township was situated was already +distressed by visits of scouting parties from both British and +American armies, and the American Government, unable to protect the +inhabitants, had issued a proclamation <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_471" id="Page_471">[471]</a></span>directing them to leave the +country. This was the reason that all the scattered houses in the +neighbourhood were deserted, save only the few tenanted by the handful +of Friends.</p> + +<p>'You did well, Friends,' the speaker continued, 'well to ask to be +permitted to exercise your own judgment without blame to the +authorities, well to say to them in all courtesy and charity, "You are +clear of us in that you have warned us"—and to stay on in your +dwellings and to carry out your accustomed work. The report of this +your courage and faith hath reached us in our abiding place at East +Hoosack, and the Lord hath charged me to come on foot through the +wilderness country these thirty miles, to meet with you to-day, and to +bear to you these two messages from Him, "The Belovéd of the Lord +shall dwell in safety by Him," and "He shall cover thee with His +feathers all the day long."'</p> + +<p>The visitor sat down again in his seat. The furrowed line of anxiety +in old Zebulon Hoxie's high forehead smoothed itself away; the eyes of +one or two of the younger women Friends filled with tears. As the +speaker's voice ceased, little Susannah Hoxie's head, which had been +drooping lower and lower, finally found a resting-place, and was +encircled by her mother's arm. Young Mrs. Hoxie drew off her small +daughter's shady hat, and put it on the seat beside her, while she +very gently stroked back the golden curls from the child's high +forehead. In doing this she caught a rebuking glance from her elder +daughter, Dinah.</p> + +<p>'Naughty, naughty Susie, to go to sleep in Meeting,' Dinah was +thinking; 'it is very hot, and <i>I</i> am sleepy <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_472" id="Page_472">[472]</a></span>too, but <i>I</i> don't go to +sleep. I do wish a butterfly would come in at the window just for +once—or a bird, a little bird with blue, and red, and pink, and +yellow feathers. I liked what that stranger Friend said about being +'covered with feathers all the day long.' I wish I was all covered +with feathers like a little bird. I wish there were feathers in +Meeting, or anywhere close outside.' She turned in her corner seat and +looked through the slit in the wall—why there were feathers close +outside the wall of the house, red, and yellow, and blue, and pink! +What could they be? Very gently Dinah moved her head, so that her eye +came closer to the slit. But, when she looked again, the feathers had +mysteriously disappeared—nothing was to be seen now but a slight +trembling of the tree branches in the wilderness woods at a little +distance.</p> + +<p>In the mean while her brother, Benjamin Hoxie, on the other low seat +opposite the window, was also thinking of the stranger's sermon. 'He +said it was a valiant thing to do, to stop on here when all the +neighbours have left. I didn't know Friends could do valiant things. I +thought only soldiers were valiant. But if a scouting party really did +come—if those English scouts suddenly appeared, then even a Quaker +boy might have a chance to show that he is not necessarily a coward +because he does not fight.' Benjamin's eyes strayed also out of the +open window. It was very hot and still in the Meeting-house. Yet the +bushes certainly were trembling. How strange that there should be a +breeze there and not here! 'Thou shall not be afraid for the arrow +that flieth by day,' he thought to himself. 'Well, there are no arrows +in this part of the country any longer, now that they <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_473" id="Page_473">[473]</a></span>say all the +Indians have left. I wonder, if I saw an English gun pointing at me +out of those bushes, should I be afraid?'</p> + +<p>But it was gentle Mrs. Hoxie, with her arm still round her baby +daughter, who kept the stranger's words longest in her heart. 'Shall +dwell in safety by Him,—the Belovéd of the Lord,' she repeated to +herself over and over again, 'yet my husband hath feared for me, and +we have both been very fearful for the children. Truly, we have known +the terror by night these last weeks in these unsettled times, even +though our duty was plainly to stay here. Why were we so fearful? we +of little faith. "The Belovéd of the Lord shall dwell in safety by +Him. He shall cover him with His feathers all the day long."'</p> + +<p>And then, in her turn, Mrs. Hoxie looked up, as her little daughter +had done, and saw the same three tall feathers creeping above the sill +of the open Meeting-house window frame. For just one moment her heart, +that usually beat so calmly under her grey Quaker robe, seemed to +stand absolutely still. She went white to the lips. Then 'shall dwell +in safety by Him,' the words flashed back to her mind. She looked +across to where her husband sat—an urgent look. He met her eyes, read +them, and followed the direction in which she gazed. Then he, too, saw +the feathers—three, five, seven, nine, sticking up in a row. Another +instant, and a dark-skinned face, an evil face, appeared beneath them, +looking over the sill. The moment most to be dreaded in the lives of +all American settlers—more terrible than any visit from civilised +soldiers—had come suddenly upon the little company of Friends alone +here in the wilderness. An <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_474" id="Page_474">[474]</a></span>Indian Chief was staring in at their +Meeting-house window, showing his teeth in a cruel grin. In his hand +he held a sheaf of arrows, poisoned arrows, only too ready to fly, and +kill, by day.</p> + +<p>All the assembled Friends were aware of his presence by this time, and +were watching the window now, though not one of them moved. Mrs. Hoxie +glanced towards her other little daughter, and saw to her great relief +that Dinah too had fallen asleep, her head against the wooden wall. +Dinah and Susie were the two youngest children in Meeting that +morning. The others were mostly older even than Benjamin, who was +twelve. They were, therefore, far too well-trained in Quaker stillness +to move, for any Indians, until the Friends at the head of the Meeting +should have shaken hands and given the signal to disperse. +Nevertheless, the hearts of even the elder girls were beating very +fast. Benjamin's lips were tightly shut, and with eyes that were +unusually bright he followed every movement of the Indian Chief, who, +as it seemed in one bound and without making the slightest noise, had +moved round to the open doorway.</p> + +<p>There he stood, the naked brown figure, in full war-paint and +feathers, looking with piercing eyes at each man Friend in turn, as if +one of them must have the weapons that he sought. But the Friends were +entirely unarmed. There was not a gun, or a rifle, or a sword to be +found in any of their dwelling-houses, so there could not be any in +their peaceful Meeting.</p> + +<p>A minute later, a dozen other Redskins, equally terrible, stood beside +the Chief, and the bushes in the distance were quite still. The bushes +trembled <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_475" id="Page_475">[475]</a></span>no longer. It was Benjamin who found it hard not to +tremble now, as he saw thirteen sharp arrows taken from their quivers +by thirteen skinny brown hands, and their notches held taut to +thirteen bow-strings, all ready to shoot. Yet still the Friends sat +on, without stirring, in complete silence.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep474" id="imagep474"></a> +<a href="images/imagep474.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep474.jpg" width="52%" alt="FIERCE FEATHERS" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">FIERCE FEATHERS<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>Only Benjamin, turning his head to look at his grandfather, saw +Zebulon Hoxie, the patriarch of the Meeting, gazing full at the Chief, +who had first approached. The Indian's flashing eyes, under the matted +black eyebrows, gazed back fiercely beneath his narrow red forehead +into the Quaker's calm blue eyes beneath the high white brow and snowy +hair. No word was spoken, but in silence two powers were measured +against one another—the power of hate, and the power of love. For +steady friendliness to his strange visitors was written in every line +of Zebulon Hoxie's face.</p> + +<p>The children never knew how long that steadfast gaze lasted. But at +length, to Benjamin's utter astonishment, for some unknown reason the +Indian's eyes fell. His head, that he had carried high and haughtily, +sank towards his breast. He glanced round the Meeting-house three +times with a scrutiny that nothing could escape. Then, signing to his +followers, the thirteen arrows were noiselessly replaced in thirteen +quivers, the thirteen bows were laid down and rested against the wall; +many footsteps, lighter than falling snow, crossed the floor; the +Indian Chief, unarmed, sat himself down in the nearest seat, with his +followers in all their war-paint, but also unarmed, close round him.</p> + +<p>The Meeting did not stop. The Meeting <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_476" id="Page_476">[476]</a></span>continued—one of the strangest +Friends' Meetings, surely, that ever was held. The Meeting not only +continued, it increased in solemnity and in power.</p> + +<p>Never, while they lived, did any of those present that day forget that +silent Meeting, or the brooding Presence, that, closer, clearer than +the sunlight, filled the bright room.</p> + +<p>'Cover thee with His feathers all the day long.'</p> + +<p>The Friends sat in their accustomed stillness. But the Indians sat +more still than any of them. They seemed strangely at home in the +silence, these wild men of the woods. Motionless they sat, as a group +of trees on a windless day, or as a tranquil pool unstirred by the +smallest breeze; silent, as if they were themselves a part of Nature's +own silence rather than of the family of her unquiet, human children.</p> + +<p>The slow minutes slipped past. The peace brooded, and grew, and +deepened. 'Am I dreaming?' Mrs. Hoxie thought to herself more than +once, and then, raising her eyes, she saw the Indians still in the +same place, and knew it was no dream. She saw, too, that Benjamin's +eyes were riveted to some objects hanging from the strangers' waists, +that none of the other Friends appeared to see.</p> + +<p>At last, when the accustomed hour of worship was ended, the two +Friends at the head of the Meeting shook hands solemnly. Then, and not +till then, did old Zebulon Hoxie advance to the Indian Chief, and with +signs he invited him and his followers to come to his house close at +hand. With signs they accepted. The strange procession crossed the +sunlit path. Susie and Dinah, wide awake now, but kept silent in +obedience to their mother's whispers, were watching the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_477" id="Page_477">[477]</a></span>feathers with +clear, untroubled eyes that knew no fear. Only Benjamin shivered as if +he were cold.</p> + +<p>When the company had arrived at the house, Zebulon put bread and +cheese on the table, and invited his unwonted guests to help +themselves. They did so, thanking him with signs, as they knew little +or no English. Robert Nisbet, the visiting Friend, who could speak and +understand French, had a conversation with one of the Indians in that +language, and this was what he said: 'We surrounded your house, +meaning to destroy every living person within it. But when we saw you +sitting with your door open, and <i>without weapons of defence</i>, we had +no wish any longer to hurt you. Now, we would fight for you, and +defend you ourselves from all who wish you ill.' Meanwhile the Chief +who had entered first was speaking in broken English to old Zebulon +Hoxie, gesticulating to make his meaning clear.</p> + +<p>'Indian come White Man House,' he said, pointing with his finger +towards the Settlement, 'Indian want kill white man, one, two, three, +six, all!' and he clutched the tomahawk at his belt with a gruesome +gesture. 'Indian come, see White Man sit in house; no gun, no arrow, +no knife; all quiet, all still, worshipping Great Spirit. Great Spirit +inside Indian too;' he pointed to his breast; 'then Great Spirit say: +"Indian! No kill them!"' With these words, the Chief took a white +feather from one of his arrows, and stuck it firmly over the centre of +the roof in a peculiar way. 'With that white feather above your +house,' the French-speaking Indian said to Robert Nisbet, 'your +settlement is safe. We Indians are your friends henceforward, and you +are ours.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_478" id="Page_478">[478]</a></span>A moment later and the strange guests had all disappeared as +noiselessly as they had come. But, when the bushes had ceased to +tremble, Benjamin stole to his mother's side. 'Mother, did you <i>see</i>, +did you <i>see</i>?' he whispered. 'They were <i>not</i> friendly Indians. They +were the very most savage kind. Did you,' he shuddered, 'did you, and +father, and grandfather, and the others not notice what those things +were, hanging from their waists? They were <i>scalps</i>—scalps of men and +women that those Indians had killed,' and again he shuddered.</p> + +<p>His mother stooped and kissed him. 'Yea, my son,' she answered, 'I did +see. In truth we all saw, too well, save only the tender maids, thy +sisters, who know naught of terror or wrong. But thou, my son, when +thou dost remember those human scalps, pray for the slayers and for +the slain. Only for thyself and for us, have no fear. Remember, +rather, the blessing of that other Benjamin, for whom I named thee. +"The Belovéd of the Lord shall dwell in safety by Him. He shall cover +him all the day long."'</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="XXX_THE_THIEF_IN_THE_TANYARD" id="XXX_THE_THIEF_IN_THE_TANYARD"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_479" id="Page_479">[479]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>XXX. THE THIEF IN THE TANYARD<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'In the House of Love men do not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_480" id="Page_480">[480]</a></span> +curse nor swear; they do not +destroy nor kill any. They use no +outward swords or spears. They +seek to destroy no flesh of man; +but it is a fight of the cross and +patience to the subduing of +sin.'<span class="fakesc">—HENRY NICHOLAS</span> +(circa 1540</i>).</p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'We have to keep in mind the +thought of Christ. To us it seems +most important to stop the evil +act, hold it down by force, or +push off its consequences on to +someone else: anything, so long as +we get rid of them from ourselves. +Christ's thought was to change the +evil mind, whatever physical +consequences action, directed to +this end, might involve.... This +is the essence of "turning the +other cheek," it is the attitude +most likely to convert the sinner +who injures us, whether it +actually does so or not,—we +cannot force him to be converted.' +... 'Those who try this method of +love for the sake of the evildoer +must be prepared to go down, if +necessary, as the front ranks +storming a strong position go +down, paying the price of victory +for those who come after them. +This method is not certain to +conquer the evil mind: it is the +most likely way to do it, and it +is that that matters +most.'<span class="fakesc">—A. NEAVE +BRAYSHAW</span>.</i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_481" id="Page_481">[481]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>XXX. THE THIEF IN THE TANYARD</h3> +<br /> + +<p>Knock! knock! knock!</p> + +<p>The tremulous sound, three times repeated, disturbed the stillness of +an empty street of small wooden houses. The night was very dark, but +the square mass of the tanner's house could just be discerned, black +and solid against the sky. The rays of a solitary oil lamp straggled +faintly across the roadway, and showed a man with a large bundle on +his back standing on the doorstep of that house, knocking as if he +were afraid of the noise he made.</p> + +<p>Knock! knock! knock! He tried once more, but with growing timidity and +hesitation. Evidently the inmates of the house were busy, or too far +off to hear the feeble summons. No one answered. The man's small stock +of courage seemed exhausted. Giving his heavy bundle a hitch back on +to his shoulder, he slunk off down the road, to where at a little +distance the small oil lamp high up on the wall beckoned faintly in +the darkness. The all-pervading smell of a tannery close by filled the +air.</p> + +<p>When he came directly under the lamp, the man stopped. The light, +falling directly upon the package he carried, showed it to be a bundle +of hides all ready for tanning. Here he stopped, and drew out a piece +of crumpled newspaper from his pocket. Smoothing out the creases as +carefully as he could, he held it up towards the lamp, and read once +more the strange words that he already knew almost by heart.</p> + +<p>This notice was printed in large letters in the advertisement column: +'<span class="fakesc">WHOEVER</span> stole a lot of hides <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_482" id="Page_482">[482]</a></span>on the fifth day of the +present month is <span class="fakesc">HEREBY</span> informed that their owner has a +sincere wish to be his friend. If poverty tempted him to this false +step the owner will keep the whole transaction secret, and will gladly +put him in the way of obtaining money by means more likely to bring +him peace of mind.'</p> + +<p>'If poverty tempted him to this false step,' the man repeated to +himself half aloud. 'Tanner Savery wraps up his meaning in fine words, +but their sense is plain enough. If it was being poor that drove a man +to become a thief and to steal these hides from the shadow of that +dark archway down by the river last Sunday night,—suppose it was +poverty, well what then? Friend Savery "will gladly put him in the way +of obtaining money by means more likely to bring him peace of mind." +Will he indeed? Can I trust him? Is it a hoax? I would rather do +without the money now, if only I could get rid of these hides, and of +their smell, that sticks to a man's nostrils even as sin does to his +memory. But the tanner promises to give me back peace of mind, does +he? Well, that's a fair offer and worth some risk. I'll knock once +more at his door and see what happens.'</p> + +<p>Stuffing the newspaper into his pocket he walked quickly up the road +again, back to the square house, and up the sanded steps. Again he +lifted the brass knocker, and again 'knock! knock! knock!' rang out on +the night air. But this time the knocking was less tremulous, and as +it happened the inmates of the house were crossing the hall on their +way to bed and heard the sound at once. In less than a minute the door +opened, and a square brass candlestick, held high up, threw its light +out into the street. The <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_483" id="Page_483">[483]</a></span>candlestick was held by a tall man with +greyish white hair, whom all the town knew as Tanner Savery. Peeping +behind his shoulder appeared his wife's gentle face, surmounted by the +clear muslin of a Quakeress's cap. The man on the doorstep never +lifted up his eyes to the couple. 'I've brought them back, Mr. +Savery,' he mumbled, too much ashamed even to explain what he meant by +'them.' But William Savery needed no explanation. Ever since the hides +had mysteriously disappeared from his tanyard a few days before, he +had felt sure that this quarrelsome neighbour of his must have taken +them.</p> + +<p>What was that neighbour's real name? That, nobody knows, or ever will +know now. We only know that whatever it may have been it certainly was +not John Smith, because when, in after years, Tanner Savery +occasionally told this story he always called the stealer of his hides +'John Smith' in order to disguise his identity; so we will speak of +John Smith too. 'A ne'er-do-well' was the character people gave him. +They spoke of him as a man who was his own worst enemy, sadly too fond +of his glass, and always quarrelling with his neighbours. Only William +Savery refused to believe that any man could be altogether evil, and +he kept a ray of hope in his heart for John Smith, even when his +valuable bundle of hides mysteriously disappeared. It was that ray of +hope that had made him put the advertisement in the paper, though he +knew it would set the town laughing over 'those Quakers and their +queer soft ways.' This evening the ray of hope was shining more +brightly than ever. More brightly even than the candlelight shone in +the darkness of the night, the hope in his heart shone <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_484" id="Page_484">[484]</a></span>through the +brightness of the Tanner's eyes and smile. Yet he only answered +cheerily, 'All right, friend, wait till I can light a lantern and go +to the barn to take them back with thee.'</p> + +<p>There was no trace of surprise in his voice. Those matter-of-fact +tones sounded as if it were the most natural thing in the world to go +out to the tanyard at 10 o'clock at night instead of going upstairs to +bed.</p> + +<p>'After we have done that,' he continued, 'perhaps thou wilt come in +and tell me how this happened; we will see what can be done for thee.'</p> + +<p>A lantern, hanging on its hook in the hall, was soon lighted. The two +men picked their way down the sanded steps again, then passing under a +high creeper-covered gateway they followed a narrow, flagged path to +the tanyard.</p> + +<p>All this time William Savery had not said one word to his wife—but +the ring of happiness in his voice had made her happy too, and had +told her what he would like her to do during his absence from the +house. Lifting up the bedroom candlestick from the oak chest on which +her husband had set it down, she hastened to the larder, then to the +kitchen, where she poked up the fire into a bright glow, put a kettle +on, and then went back again through the hall to the parlour, to and +fro several times. When the two men returned to the house a quarter of +an hour later, the fragrance of hot coffee greeted them. Solid pies +and meat were spread out on the dark oak table. Mrs. Savery's pies +were famous throughout the town. But besides pies there were cakes, +buns, bread, and fruit,—a meal, indeed, to tempt any hungry man.</p> + +<p>'I thought some hot supper would be good for <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_485" id="Page_485">[485]</a></span>thee, neighbour Smith,' +said Mrs. Savery in her gentle voice, as she handed him some coffee in +one of her favourite blue willow-pattern cups. But John Smith did not +take the cup from her. Instead, he turned his back abruptly, went over +to the high carved fireplace, and leaning down looking into the +glowing coals, said in a choked voice, 'It is the first time I ever +stole anything, and I can tell you I have felt very bad about it ever +since. I don't know how it is. I am sure I didn't think once that I +should ever come to be a thief. First I took to drinking and then to +quarrelling. Since I began to go downhill everybody gives me a kick; +you are the first people who have offered me a helping hand. My wife +is sickly and my children are starving. You have sent them many a +meal, God bless you! Yet I stole the hides from you, meaning to sell +them the first chance I could get. But I tell you the truth when I +say, drunkard as I am, it is the first time I was ever a thief.'</p> + +<p>'Let it be the last time, my friend,' replied William Savery, 'and the +secret shall remain between ourselves. Thou art still young, and it is +within thy power to make up for lost time. Promise me that thou wilt +not take any strong drink for a year, and I will employ thee myself in +the tanyard at good wages. Perhaps we may find some employment for thy +family also. The little boy can, at least, pick up stones. But eat a +bit now, and drink some hot coffee; perhaps it will keep thee from +craving anything stronger tonight.'</p> + +<p>So saying, William Savery advanced, and taking his guest by the arm, +gently forced him into a chair. Mrs. Savery pushed the cup towards +him, and heaped <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_486" id="Page_486">[486]</a></span>his plate with her excellent meat-pies. The stranger +took up the cup to drink, but his hand trembled so much that he could +not put it to his lips. He tried to swallow a small mouthful of bread, +but the effort nearly choked him. William Savery, seeing his guest's +excited state, went on talking in his grave kind voice, to give him +time, and help him to grow calm.</p> + +<p>'Doubtless thou wilt find it hard to abstain from drink at first,' he +continued, 'but keep up a brave heart for the sake of thy wife and +children, and it will soon become easy. Whenever thou hast need of +coffee tell my wife, Mary, and she will give it thee.'</p> + +<p>Mary Savery's blue eyes shone as she nodded her head; she did not say +a word, for she saw that her guest was nearly at an end of his +composure. Gently she laid her hand on his rough sleeve as if to try +to calm and reassure him. But even her light touch was more than he +could bear at that moment. Pushing the food and drink away from him +untasted, he laid both his arms on the table, and burying his head, he +wept like a child.</p> + +<p>The husband and wife looked at each other. 'Can I do anything to help +him?' Mary's eyes asked her husband in silence. 'Leave him alone for a +little; he will be better when this fit of tears is over,' his wise +glance answered back.</p> + +<p>William Savery was right. The burst of weeping relieved John Smith's +over-wrought feelings. Besides, he really was almost faint with +hunger. In a few moments, when the coffee was actually held to his +lips, he found he could drink it—right down to the bottom of the cup. +As if by magic, the cup was filled up again, and then, very quickly, +the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_487" id="Page_487">[487]</a></span>meatpies too began to disappear.</p> + +<p>At each mouthful the man grew calmer. It was an entirely different +John Smith who took leave of his kind friends an hour later. Again +they followed him to the door. 'Try to do well, John, and thou wilt +always find a friend in me,' William Savery said, as they parted. Mary +Savery added no words—she was never a woman given to much talk. Only +she slipped her fingers into her guest's hand with a touch that said +silently, 'Fare thee well, <i>friend</i>.'</p> + +<p>The next day John Smith entered the tanyard, not this time slinking in +as a thief in the darkness, but introduced by the master himself as an +engaged workman. For many years he remained with his employer, a +sober, honest, and faithful servant, respected by others and +respecting himself. The secret of the first visit was kept. William +and Mary Savery never alluded to it, and John Smith certainly did not, +though the memory of it never left him and altered all the rest of his +life.</p> + +<p>Long years after John Smith was dead, William Savery, in telling the +story, always omitted the man's name. That is why he has to be called +John Smith, because no one knows now, no one ever will know, what his +real name may have been. 'But,' as William Savery used to say when he +was prevailed on to tell the story, 'the thing to know and remember is +that it is possible to overcome Evil with Good.'</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_488" id="Page_488">[488]</a></span><br /> +<a name="XXXI_FRENCH_NOBLE" id="XXXI_FRENCH_NOBLE"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_489" id="Page_489">[489]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>XXXI. HOW A FRENCH NOBLE BECAME A FRIEND</h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="block"> +<p class="cen"><i>Sentences from 'No Cross, No Crown,'<br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_490" id="Page_490">[490]</a></span> +by <span class="fakesc">WILLIAM PENN</span>.</i></p> + +<p class="noin"><i>'Come, Reader, hearken to me +awhile; I seek thy salvation; that +is my plot; thou wilt forgive me.'</i></p> + +<p class="noin"><i>'Thou, like the inn of old, hast +been full of guests; thy affections +have entertained other lovers; +there has been no room for thy +Saviour in thy soul ... but his +love is after thee still, & his +holy invitation continues to save +thee.'</i></p> + +<p class="noin"><i>'Receive his leaven, & it will +change thee; his medicine and it +will cure thee; he is as infallible +as free; without money and with +certainty.... Yield up the body, +soul & spirit to Him that maketh +all things new: new heavens & new +earth, new love, new joy, new +peace, new works, a new life & +conversation....'</i></p> + +<p class="noin"><i>'The inward, steady righteousness +of Jesus is another thing than all +the contrived devotion of poor +superstitious man.... True worship +is an inward work; the soul must be +touched and raised in its heavenly +desires by the heavenly Spirit.... +So that souls of true worshippers +see God: and this they wait, they +pant, they thirst for.'</i></p> + +<p class="noin"><i>'Worship is the supreme act of +man's life.'</i></p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_491" id="Page_491">[491]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>XXXI. HOW A FRENCH NOBLE BECAME A FRIEND</h3> +<br /> + +<p>Now we come to a Saint who had a life so full of adventures that a +book twice as big as this one would be needed to contain the stories +that might be told about him alone.</p> + +<p>Unlike any of the other 'Quaker Saints' in this book, he was by birth +a Frenchman and came of noble family. His name was Etienne de Grellet. +He was born nearly a century after the death of George Fox; but he +probably did not know that such a person had ever existed, never even +heard Fox's name, until long after he was grown up. If Etienne de +Grellet, the gay young nobleman of the French court, had been told +that his story would ever be written in a book of 'Quaker Saints' he +would, most likely, have raised his dark eyebrows and have looked +extremely surprised.</p> + +<p>'<i>Quakère? Qu'est-ce que c'est alors, Quakère? Quel drôle de mot! Je +ne suis pas Quakère, moi!</i>' he might have answered, with a disdainful +shrug of his high, narrow, aristocratic French shoulders. Yet here he +is after all!</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p>Etienne de Grellet was born at Limoges in France, in the year 1773. +His childhood was passed in the stormy years when the cloud was +gathering that was to burst a little later in the full fury of the +French Revolution. His father, Gabriel de Grellet, a wealthy merchant +of Limoges, was a great friend and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_492" id="Page_492">[492]</a></span>counsellor of Louis XVI. and Marie +Antoinette. As a reward for having introduced into the country the +manufacture of finer porcelain than had ever before been made in +France he was ennobled by the king, whom he often used to attend in +his private chapel. Limoges china is still celebrated all over the +world; and at that time the most celebrated of its china-makers was M. +de Grellet, the king's friend.</p> + +<p>Naturally the sons of this successful merchant and nobleman were +brought up in great luxury. Etienne and his brothers were not sent to +a school, but had expensive tutors to teach them at home. Their +parents wanted their children to be well educated, honourable, +straightforward, generous, and kind; to possess not only +accomplishments but good qualities. Yet Etienne felt, when he looked +back in later days, that something had been left out in their +education that was, perhaps, the most important thing of all.</p> + +<p>When he was quite a little boy he was taken to visit one of his aunts +who was a nun in a convent near Limoges. The rules of this convent +were so strict that the nuns might not even see their relations who +came to visit them. They might only speak to them from the other side +of two iron gratings, between the bars of which a thick curtain was +hung. The little boy thought it very strange to be taken from his +beautiful home, full of costly furniture, pictures, and hangings, and +to be brought into the bare convent cell. Then he looked up and saw an +iron grating, and heard a voice coming through the folds of a thick +curtain that hung behind it. He could hear the voice, but he might +never see the face of the aunt who spoke to him. At night at home, as +he lay in his comfortable <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_493" id="Page_493">[493]</a></span>bed, he used to think of his aunt and the +other nuns 'rising three times in the night for prayer in the church, +from the hard boards which formed their couch, even the luxury of a +straw pallet being denied them.' 'Which is the real life,' he used to +ask himself, 'the easy comfortable life that goes on round me every +day, or that other, difficult life hidden behind the folds of the +thick curtain?'</p> + +<p>Child though he was, Etienne felt that his aunt loved him, although he +had never seen her. This helped him to feel that, although unseen, God +was loving him too. As he grew older he wondered: 'Perhaps everything +we see here is like the bars of a grating, or a thick curtain. Perhaps +there is some one on the other side who is speaking to us too.'</p> + +<p>Etienne was only about five or six years old when he made the great +discovery that <span class="fakesc">GOD IS THERE</span>, hidden behind the screen of +visible things all round us. After this, he longed to be able to speak +to God and to listen to God's voice, as he was able to listen to his +unseen aunt's voice speaking to him from behind the curtain in the +convent.</p> + +<p>No one ever taught him to pray; but presently he discovered that too +for himself. One day, when he was only six years old, his tutor gave +him a Latin lesson to learn that was much too difficult for him. +Etienne took the book up to his bedroom, and there, all alone, he read +it over and over and did his very best to learn it. But the unfamiliar +Latin words would not stay in his memory. At last he closed the book +in despair and went to his bedroom window and looked out. He gazed +over the high roofs of the city, away over the wide plain in which +Limoges lay, to the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_494" id="Page_494">[494]</a></span>distant mountain, blue against the sky. +Everything looked fair and peaceful. As he gazed, the thought came to +him, 'God made the plain and the river and the mountains. God made +this whole beautiful world in which I live. If God can create all +these things, surely He can give me memory also.' He knelt down at the +foot of his bed and prayed, for the first time in his life, that his +Unseen Friend would help him to master the difficult lesson. Taking up +the book again, he read the hard Latin words once more, very +attentively. This time the words stayed in his memory and did not fade +away. Often afterwards, he found that if he prayed all his lessons +became easier. He could not, of course, learn them without effort, but +after he had really prayed earnestly, he found he could remember +things better. Then one day he learned the Lord's prayer. Long years +after, when he was an old man, he could still recall the exact spot in +his beautiful home where, as a little boy, he had first learned to +say, 'Our Father.' Etienne and his family belonged to the Roman +Catholic Church. On Sundays they went to the great cathedral of +Limoges; but the service there always seemed strange and far away to +Etienne.<a name="FNanchor_41_41" id="FNanchor_41_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_41_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a> The music, the chanting, the Latin words that were said +and sung by bishops and priests in their gorgeous robes, did not seem +to him to have anything to do with the quiet Voice that spoke to the +boy in the silence of his own heart.</p> + +<p>When Etienne and his brothers were old enough they were sent to +several different colleges and schools. Their last place of +instruction was the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_495" id="Page_495">[495]</a></span>celebrated College of the Oratorians at Lyons. +Among other things, the students of this College were taught to move +so quietly that fifty or a hundred boys went up or down the stone +steps of the College all together, without their feet making the least +noise.</p> + +<p>Etienne tells us in his diary: 'as we were educated by Roman Catholics +and in their principles we were required to confess once a month,' +that is, to tell a priest whatever they had done that was wrong, and +receive the assurance of God's forgiveness from him.</p> + +<p>The priest to whom Etienne regularly made his confession was 'a pious, +conscientious man,' who treated him with fatherly care. When the boy +told him of his puzzles, and asked how it could be necessary to +confess to any man, since God alone could forgive sins, he received a +kind, helpful answer. 'Yet,' he says, 'my reasoning faculties brought +me to the root of the matter; from created objects to the +Creator—from time to eternity.' After he was confirmed at College he +hoped that his heart would be changed and made different; but he found +that he was still much the same as before. Before leaving the College +he and the other students who were also departing received the +Sacrament of the Lord's Supper at Mass. This was to Etienne a very +solemn time. But, he says, as soon as he was out in the world again, +the remembrance of it faded away. He settled that he had no use for +religion in his life, and determined to live for pleasure and +happiness alone. 'I sought after happiness,' his diary says, 'in the +world's delights. I went in pursuit of it from one party of pleasure +to another; but I did <i>not</i> find it, and I wondered that the name of +pleasure could be given <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_496" id="Page_496">[496]</a></span>to anything of that kind.'</p> + +<p>In his dissipated life after leaving College, he gave up saying his +prayers, and gradually he lost his belief that <span class="fakesc">GOD WAS +THERE</span>. He read unbelieving books, which said that God did not +exist, and that the Unseen world was only a delusion and a dream. For +a time Etienne gave himself up to doubt and denial as well as to +dissipation. He was in this restless state when the French Revolution +broke out and caught him, like a butterfly in a thunderstorm. New +questions surged over him. 'If there is a God after all, why should He +allow these horrors to happen?' But no answer came. Or perhaps he had +forgotten how to listen.</p> + +<p>'Towards the close of 1791,' he writes, 'I left my dear Father's +house, and bade him, as it proved, a lasting farewell, having never +seen him since.' At this time, Etienne accompanied his brothers and +many other nobles into Germany, to join the French Princes who were +endeavouring to bring about a counter-revolution and restore the king, +Louis XVI.</p> + +<p>On this dangerous journey the young men met with many narrow escapes. +Courage came naturally to Etienne. 'I was not the least moved,' he +writes in his diary, 'when surrounded by people and soldiers, who +lavished their abuses upon us, and threatened to hang me to the +lamp-post. I coolly stood by, my hands in my pockets, being provided +with three pairs of pistols, two of which were double-barrelled. I +concluded to wait to see what they would do, and resolved, after +destroying as many of them as I could, to take my own life with the +last.'</p> + +<p>Happily the necessity for extreme courses did not <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_497" id="Page_497">[497]</a></span>arise. He was, he +says, 'mercifully preserved,' and no violent hands were laid upon him, +though he and his companions suffered a short detention, after which +they succeeded in safely joining the French Princes and their +adherents at the city of Coblentz on the Rhine. Here Etienne spent the +following winter and spring surrounded, he tells us, by many +temptations.</p> + +<p>'I was fond of solitude,' continues the diary, 'and had many retired +walks through the woods and over the hills. I delighted to visit the +deserted hermitages, which formerly abounded on the Rhine. I envied +the situation of such hermits, retired from the world, and sheltered +from its many temptations; for I thought it impossible for me to live +a life of purity while continuing among my associates. I looked +forward wishfully to the time when I could thus retire; but I saw also +that, unless I could leave behind me my earthly-mindedness, my pride, +vanity, and every carnal propensity, an outward solitude could afford +me no shelter.</p> + +<p>'Our army entered into France the forepart of the summer of 1792, +accompanied by the Austrians and Prussians. I was in the King's Horse +Guards, which consisted mostly of the nobility. We endured great +hardships, for many weeks sleeping on the bare ground, in the open +air, and were sometimes in want of provisions. But that word <i>honour</i> +so inflamed us, that I marvel how contentedly we bore our privations.'</p> + +<p>Towards the approach of winter, owing to various political changes, +the Princes' army was obliged to retire from France, and soon after +was disbanded. 'Etienne had been present at several engagements; he +had seen many falling about him, stricken by the shafts of death; he +had stood in battle array, facing the enemy <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_498" id="Page_498">[498]</a></span>ready for the conflict; +but, being in a reserve corps, he was preserved from actually shedding +blood, having never fought with the sword, or fired a gun.'</p> + +<p>In after years, he was thankful to remember that although he had been +perfectly willing to take life, he had never actually done so in his +soldier days. After the retreat of the French army, he and his +brothers set out for Amsterdam. On the way, however, they were made +prisoners of war, and condemned to be shot. 'The execution of the +sentence was each moment expected, when some sudden commotion in the +hostile army gave them an opportunity to make their escape.' Their +lives thus having been spared a second time they reached Holland in +safety.</p> + +<p>The young men were puzzled what to do next. They could not bear to +leave their beloved parents at distant Limoges, and yet it was +impossible to reach them or to help them in any way. France was a +dangerous place for people with a 'de' in their names in those days, +and for young men of military age most dangerous of all. Finally, +Etienne and his brother Joseph settled to go to South America. +'Through the kind assistance of a republican General, a friend of the +family, they obtained a passage on board a ship bound for Demerara, +where they arrived in the First month of 1793, after a voyage of about +forty days.'</p> + +<p>Unfortunately this long voyage had not taken them away from scenes of +violence. The Revolution in France was terrible, but the horrors of +slavery in South America were, if possible, even worse. The New World +seemed no less full of tragedy than the Old. Etienne saw there +husbands and wives, parents and children, brothers and sisters torn +apart, most cruelly <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_499" id="Page_499">[499]</a></span>beaten, often sold like cattle to tyrannical +masters, never to see each other's faces again.</p> + +<p>Amid such scenes Etienne grew more than ever full of despairing +thoughts, more than ever inclined to believe that there could not be a +God ruling a world where these evils were allowed to go unpunished.</p> + +<p>'Such was the impression made upon Etienne by the scenes of cruelty +and anguish he witnessed, that, many years after, the sound of a whip +in the street would chill his blood, in the remembrance of the agony +of the poor slaves; and he felt convinced that there was no excess of +wickedness and malice which a slave-holder, or driver, might not be +guilty of.'</p> + +<p>Etienne and Joseph stayed in Demerara for more than two years. In the +spring of 1795 they left South America and settled in Long Island near +New York. There, they made friends with a certain Colonel Corsa, a man +who had served in the British army, and who had a daughter who spoke +French. As the two brothers at this time knew no English it was a +great cheer to them in their loneliness to be able to visit at this +hospitable house. One day Colonel Corsa happened to speak of William +Penn. Etienne had already heard of the Quaker statesman, George Fox's +friend, and when the young girl said she possessed Penn's writings +Etienne asked to borrow them. He took back to his lodgings with him a +large folio book, intending, with the help of a dictionary, to +translate it in order to improve his English. Great was his +disappointment when he found that the book contained nothing about +politics or statesmanship. It was about religion; and at this time +Etienne thought that religion was all a humbug and delusion. +Therefore <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_500" id="Page_500">[500]</a></span>he shut up the book and put it away, though he did not +return it to its owner. One evening, about this time, as he was +walking in the fields alone, suddenly the Voice he had heard in his +childhood spoke to him once more, close by and terribly clear: +'<span class="fakesc">ETERNITY, ETERNITY, ETERNITY</span>.' These three words, he says, +'reached my very soul,—my whole man shook,—it brought me, like Saul, +to the ground.' The sinfulness and carelessness of his last few years +passed before him. He cried out, 'If there is no God, doubtless there +is a hell.'</p> + +<p>His soul was almost in hell already, for hell is despair, and Etienne +was very nearly despairing at that moment. Only one way out remained, +the way of prayer, the little mossy pathway that he used to tread when +he was a child, but that he had not trodden, now, for many years. +Tangled, mossy, and overgrown that path was now, but it still led out +from the dark wood of life where Etienne had almost lost his way and +his hope.</p> + +<p>Etienne took that way. With his whole heart he prayed for mercy and +for deliverance from the sin and horror that oppressed him. When no +answer came at once he did not stop praying, but continued day and +night, praying, praying for mercy. Perhaps he scarcely knew to whom +his prayer was addressed; but it was none the less a real prayer.</p> + +<p>He expected that the answer to it would come in some startling form +that he could recognise the first minute and say: 'There! Now God is +answering my prayer!'</p> + +<p>Instead, the answer came far more simply than he had expected. God +often seems to choose to answer <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_501" id="Page_501">[501]</a></span>prayers in such a gentle, natural +fashion, that His children need to watch very carefully lest they take +His most radiant messengers, His most wonderful messages, almost as a +matter of course. Only if they recognise God's Love in all that comes, +planning how things shall happen, they can see His hand arranging even +the tiniest details of their lives, fitting them all in, and making +things work out right. Then they understand how truly wonderful His +answers are.</p> + +<p>The answer to Etienne's prayer came through nothing more extraordinary +than that same old folio book which he had borrowed from his friend +Miss Corsa, and had put away, thinking it too dull to translate. He +took it out again, and opened upon a part called 'No Cross, No Crown.' +'I proceeded,' he says, 'to read it with the help of my dictionary, +having to look for the meaning of nearly every word.'</p> + +<p>When he had finished, he read it straight through again. 'I had never +met with anything of the kind before,' and all the time he was reading +the Voice inside his heart kept on saying, 'Yes, Yes, Yes, that is +true!'</p> + +<p>'I now withdrew from company, and spent most of my time in retirement, +and in silent waiting upon God. I began to read the Bible, with the +aid of my dictionary, for I had none then in French. I was much of a +stranger to the inspired records. I had not even seen them before that +I remember; what I had heard of any part of their contents, was only +detached portions in Prayer Books.</p> + +<p>'Whilst the fallow ground of my heart was thus preparing, my brother +and myself, being one day at Colonel Corsa's, heard that a Meeting was +appointed <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_502" id="Page_502">[502]</a></span>to be held next day in the Friends' Meeting-house, by two +Englishwomen, to which we were invited. The Friends were Deborah Darby +and Rebecca Young. The sight of them brought solemn feelings over me; +but I soon forgot all things around me; for, in an inward silent frame +of mind, seeking for the Divine presence, I was favoured to find <i>in</i> +me, what I had so long, and with so many tears, sought for <i>without</i> +me. My brother, who sat beside me, and to whom the silence, in which +the forepart of the meeting was held, was irksome, repeatedly +whispered to me, "Let us go away." But I felt the Lord's power in such +a manner, that a secret joy filled me, in that I had found Him after +whom my soul had longed. I was as one nailed to my seat. Shortly +after, one or two men Friends in the ministry spoke, but I could +understand very little of what they said. After them Deborah Darby and +Rebecca Young spoke also; but I was so gathered in the temple of my +heart before God, that I was wholly absorbed with what was passing +there. Thus had the Lord opened my heart to seek Him where He is to be +found.</p> + +<p>'My brother and myself were invited to dine in the company of these +Friends, at Colonel Corsa's. There was a religious opportunity after +dinner, in which several communications were made. I could hardly +understand a word of what was said, but, as Deborah Darby began to +address my brother and myself, it seemed as if the Lord opened my +outward ear, and my heart. She seemed like one reading the pages of my +heart, with clearness describing how it had been, and how it was with +me. O what sweetness did I then feel! It was indeed a memorable day. I +was like one <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_503" id="Page_503">[503]</a></span>introduced into a new world; the creation, and all +things around me, bore a different aspect, my heart glowed with love +to all.... O how can the extent of the Lord's love, mercy, pity, and +tender compassion be fathomed!'</p> + +<p>After the visit of the two Friends had made this change in his life +Etienne decided to give up his French name and title, and to be no +longer Etienne de Grellet, the French nobleman, but plain Stephen +Grellet, the teacher of languages. Later on, he was to become Stephen +Grellet the Quaker preacher; but the time for that had not yet come. +After Deborah Darby's visit he went regularly to the Friends' Meetings +in Long Island, but they were held for the most part in complete +silence, and sad to say not one of the Friends ever spoke to him +afterwards. He missed their friendliness all the more because the +people he was lodging with could not bear his attending Quaker +Meetings, and tried to make him give up going to such unfashionable +assemblies. His brother, Joseph, also could not understand what had +come to him, and both Joseph and the lodging-house people teased poor +Stephen about his Quaker leanings, till he, who had been brave enough +when his life was in danger, was a coward before their mockery. He did +not want to give up going to his dear Meeting, but he hated to be +ridiculed. At first he tried to give up Meeting, but this disobedience +gave him, he says, 'a feeling of misery.' When the next Sunday came he +tried another plan. He went to the Meeting-house by roundabout ways +'through fields and over fences, ashamed to be seen by any one on the +road.' When he reached the Meeting-house by these by-lanes, the door +was closed. No Meeting was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_504" id="Page_504">[504]</a></span>to be held there that day. The Friends +happened to have gone to another place. Stephen, therefore, sat down, +'in a retired place and in a very tried state,' to think the whole +question over again, with much humility. He decided that henceforth, +come what might, he would not be a coward; and he kept his resolution. +The next Sunday he went to Meeting 'though it rained hard and I had +about three miles to walk.' Henceforward he attended Meeting +regularly, and at last his brother ceased reproaching him for his +Quakerism, and one Sunday he actually came to Meeting too. This time +Joseph also enjoyed the silence and followed the worship. 'From that +time he attended meetings diligently, and was a great comfort to me. +But, during all that period,' Stephen continues, 'we had no +intercourse with any of the members of the religious Society of +Friends.' These Friends still took no notice of the two strangers. +They seem to have been Friends only in name.</p> + +<p>About this time bad news came from France. 'My dear mother wrote to me +that the granaries we had at our country seat had been secured by the +revolutionary party, as well as every article of food in our town +house. My mother and my younger brother were only allowed the scanty +pittance of a peck of mouldy horse-beans per week. My dear father was +shut up in prison, with an equally scanty allowance. But it was before +I was acquainted with the sufferings of my beloved parents, that the +consideration of the general scarcity prevailing in the country led me +to think how wrong it was for me to wear powder on my head, the ground +of which I knew to be pride.' He gave up powder from this time. It +would not be much of a sacrifice <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_505" id="Page_505">[505]</a></span>nowadays, but it was a very real one +then, when powder was supposed to be the distinguishing mark of a +gentleman. The two brothers were now obliged to learn to support +themselves. All their estates in France had been seized. 'Our means +began to be low, and yet our feelings for the sufferings in which our +beloved parents might be involved, caused us to forget ourselves, +strangers in a strange country, and to forward them a few hundred +dollars we had yet left.'</p> + +<p>It was no easy matter to find employment. The brothers went on to New +York, and there at last the Friends were kind: Friends in deed and not +in name only. They found a situation for Joseph in New York itself, +and arranged for Stephen to go to Philadelphia, where he was more +likely to find work.</p> + +<p>And at Philadelphia the Friends were, if possible, even kinder to him +than the Friends at New York. They were spiritual fathers and mothers +to him, he says, and seemed to know exactly what he was feeling. 'They +had but little to say in words, but I often felt that my spirit was +refreshed and strengthened in their company.' At Philadelphia, he had +many offers of tempting employment, but he decided to continue as a +teacher of languages in a school. He gave his whole mind to his school +work while he was at it, and out of school hours wandered about +entirely care free. But although he was a teacher of languages and +although the English of his Journals is scrupulously careful, it has +often a slight foreign stiffness and formality. He was often afraid in +his early years of making mistakes and not speaking quite correctly. +There is a story that long afterwards, when he was in England and was +taking his leave of some schoolgirls, he wished to say <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_506" id="Page_506">[506]</a></span>to them that +he hoped they might be preserved safely. But in the agitation of his +departure he chose the wrong words. His parting injunction, therefore, +never faded from the girls' memory: 'My dear young Friends, may the +Lord <i>pickle</i> you, His dear little <i>muttons</i>.'</p> + +<p>If, even as an old man, Stephen was liable to fall into such pitfalls +as this, it is easy to understand that in his earlier years the fear +of making mistakes must have been a real terror to him, especially +when he thought of speaking in Meeting. Very soon after he became a +Friend he felt, with great dread, that the beautiful, comforting +messages that refreshed his own soul were meant to be shared with +others. Months, if not years, of struggle followed, before he could +rise in his place in Meeting and obey this inward prompting. But +directly he did so, his fears of making a mistake, or being laughed +at, vanished utterly away. After agony, came joy. 'The Lord shewed me +how He is mouth, wisdom and utterance to His true and faithful +ministers; that it is from Him alone that they are to communicate to +the people, and also the <i>when</i> and the <i>how</i>.' At that first Meeting, +after Stephen had given his message and sat down again, several +Friends, whose blessing he specially valued, also spoke and said how +thankful they were for his words. Among those present that day was +that same William Savery, who, in the last story, had a bundle of +valuable hides stolen from his tanyard, and punished the thief, when +he came to return the hides, by loading him with kindness and giving +him a good situation.</p> + +<p>Certainly William Savery would not tell the story of 'the man who was +not John Smith' to Stephen <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_507" id="Page_507">[507]</a></span>Grellet on that particular day; for +Stephen was so filled with the thankful wonder that follows obedience, +that he had no thought for outside things. 'For some days after this +act of dedication,' he says, 'my peace flowed as a river.' In the +autumn of this year (1796), Stephen Grellet, the French nobleman, +became a Friend. About two years later, he was acknowledged as a +Minister by the Society.</p> + +<p>'In those days,' he writes, 'my mind dwelt much on the nature of the +hope of redemption through Jesus Christ.... I felt that the best +testimony I could bear was to evince by my life what He had actually +done for me.'</p> + +<p>Henceforth Stephen's life was spent in trying to make known to others +the joy that had overflowed his own soul. He did indeed 'put the +things that he had learned in practice,' as he journeyed over both +Europe and America, time after time, visiting high and low. His life +is one long record of adventures, of perils surmounted, of hairbreadth +escapes, of constant toil and of much plodding, humdrum service too. +His message brought him into the strangest situations, as he gave it +fearlessly. He sought an interview with the Pope at Rome in order to +remonstrate with him about the state of the prisons in the Papal +States. Stephen gave his message with perfect candour, and afterwards +entered into conversation with the Pope. Finally, he says, 'As I felt +the love of Christ flowing in my heart towards him, I particularly +addressed him.... The Pope ... kept his head inclined and appeared +tender, while I thus addressed him; then rising from his seat, in a +kind and respectful manner, he expressed his desire that "the Lord +would bless <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_508" id="Page_508">[508]</a></span>and protect me wherever I went," on which I left him.'</p> + +<p>Not satisfied with that, though it seems wonderful enough, Stephen +another time induced the Czar of all the Russias, Alexander I., to +attend Westminster Meeting. Both these stories are well worth telling. +But there is one story about Stephen, better worth telling still, and +that is how the Voice that guided him all over the world sent him one +day 'preaching to nobody' in a lonely forest clearing in the far +backwoods of America.</p> + +<br /> +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<br /> + +<h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_41_41" id="Footnote_41_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_41_41"><span class="label">[41]</span></a> 'From my earliest days,' he writes, 'there was that in +me that would not allow me implicitly to believe the various doctrines +I was taught.'</p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="XXXII_PREACHING_TO_NOBODY" id="XXXII_PREACHING_TO_NOBODY"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_509" id="Page_509">[509]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>XXXII. PREACHING TO NOBODY<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'All the artillery in the world,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_510" id="Page_510">[510]</a></span> +were they all discharged together +at one clap, could not more deaf +the ears of our bodies than the +clamourings of desires in the soul +deaf its ears, so you see a man +must go into silence or else he +cannot hear God +speak.'</i><span class="fakesc">—JOHN EVERARD</span>. +1650.</p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'God forces none, for love cannot +compel, and God's service is +therefore a thing of complete +freedom.... The thing which +hinders and has always hindered is +that our wills are different from +God's will. God never seeks +Himself, in His willing—we do. +There is no other way to +blessedness than to lose one's +self will'</i><span class="fakesc">—HANS +DENCK</span>. 1526.</p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'The inward command is never +wanting in the due season to any +duty.'</i><span class="fakesc">—R. BARCLAY</span>. +1678.</p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'I think I can reverently say +that I very much doubt whether, +since the Lord by His grace +brought me into the faith of His +dear Son, I have ever broken bread +or drunk wine, even in the +ordinary course of life, without +the remembrance of, and some +devout feeling regarding the +broken body and the blood-shedding +of my dear Lord and +Saviour.'</i><span class="fakesc">—STEPHEN +GRELLET</span>.</p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'One loving spirit sets another +on fire.'</i><span class="fakesc">—AUGUSTINE</span>.</p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_511" id="Page_511">[511]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>XXXII. PREACHING TO NOBODY</h3> +<br /> + +<p>Stephen Grellet, after much waiting on the Lord to shew him His will, +was directed by the Spirit to take a long journey into the backwoods +of America, and preach the Gospel to some woodcutters who were felling +forest timber.'<a name="FNanchor_42_42" id="FNanchor_42_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_42_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a></p> + +<p>At first Stephen did not know which was the wood he was meant to +visit, having travelled through hundreds of miles of forests on his +journey. So he waited very quietly, his heart as still as a clear +lake, ready to reflect anything God might show him.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a picture came. He remembered a lonely forest clearing, far +away. Workmen's huts were dotted about here and there, and a big +wooden building rose in the midst of the clearing. All around were +woodcutters, some busy sawing timber, some marking the tall forest +trees, others carting huge logs and piling them at a little distance. +Stephen now remembered the place well. He remembered, too, the +workmen's rough faces, and the wild shouts that filled the air as he +had passed by on horseback. He had noticed a faint film of blue smoke +curling up from the large building, and he had supposed that that must +be the dining-shanty where the workmen's food was prepared and where +they had their meals. He remembered having thought to himself, 'A +lonely life and a wild one!' But the place had not made a deep +impression on his mind, and he had forgotten it as he journeyed, in +the joy of getting nearer home. Now, suddenly, that forest clearing, +with the huts and the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_512" id="Page_512">[512]</a></span>dining-shanty and the busy woodmen all round, +came back to him as vividly as a picture in a magic-lantern view, +while a Voice said, distinctly but very gently in his own heart, so +that only he could hear, '<span class="fakesc">GO BACK THERE AND PREACH TO THOSE +LONELY MEN</span>.'</p> + +<p>Stephen knew quite well Whose Voice it was that was speaking to him, +for he had loved and followed that Voice for many years. Obedience was +easy now. He said at once, 'Yes, I will go;' and saying good-bye to +his wife, he left his home, and set forth again into the forest. As he +journeyed, a flood of happiness came over his soul. The long ride +through the lonely woods, day after day, no longer seemed tedious. He +was absolutely alone, but he never felt the least bit lonely. It was +as if Someone were journeying with him all the way, the invisible +Friend whose Voice he knew and loved and obeyed.</p> + +<p>When at length he drew near the clearing in the forest, he both +trembled and rejoiced, at the thought of soon being able to deliver +his message to the woodmen. Coming yet nearer, however, he no longer +saw any blue smoke curling up in a thin spiral between the straight +stems of the forest trees. Neither did he hear any sound of saws +sawing timber, or the men shouting to their horses. The whole place +was silent and deserted. When he reached the clearing, nobody was +there. Even the huts had gone. He would have thought he had mistaken +the place if the dining-shanty had not been there, by the edge of a +little trickling stream, just as he remembered it.</p> + +<p>Nowhere was there a living soul to be seen. Evidently all the woodmen +had gone away deeper into the forest to find fresh timber, for the +clearing <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_513" id="Page_513">[513]</a></span>was much larger and many more trees had been cut down than +on Stephen's first visit. The neglected look of the one big wooden hut +that remained showed that the men had not used it for many days. Weeks +might pass before any of the woodcutters returned.</p> + +<p>What was Stephen to do? He had no idea in which direction the woodmen +had departed. It was hopeless to think of tracking them further +through the lonely forest glades. Had the Voice made a mistake? Could +he have misunderstood the command? Was the whole expedition a failure? +Must he return home with his message still undelivered? His heart +burned within him at the thought, and he said, half aloud, 'No, no, +no!'</p> + +<p>There was only one way out of the difficulty, the same way that had +helped him to learn his Latin lesson years ago when he was a little +boy. But it was no tiny mossy track now, it was a broad, well-marked +road travelled daily, hourly, through long years,—this Prayer way +that led his soul to God. Tying up his horse to the nearest tree, +Stephen knelt down on the carpet of red-brown pine-needles, and put up +a wordless prayer for guidance and help. Then he began to listen.</p> + +<p>Through the windless silence of the forest spaces the Voice came again +more clearly than ever, saying: '<span class="fakesc">GIVE YOUR MESSAGE. IT IS NOT +YOURS BUT MINE.</span>' Stephen hesitated no longer. He went straight +into the dining-shanty. He strode past the bare empty tables, under +which the long grass and flowers were already growing thick and tall. +He went straight up to the end of the room, and there, standing on a +form, as if the place had been filled with one or two <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_514" id="Page_514">[514]</a></span>hundred eager +listeners, although no single human being was to be seen, he +<span class="fakesc">PREACHED</span>, as he had never yet preached in his life. The +Love of God, the 'Love that will not let us go,' seemed to him the +most real thing in the whole world. All his life he had longed to find +an anchor for his soul. Now that he had found it, he must help others +to find it too. Why doesn't everyone find it? Ah! there he began to +speak of sin; how sin builds up a wall between our hearts and God; +how, in Jesus Christ, that wall has been thrown down once for all, and +now there is nothing to keep us apart except our own blindness and +pride; and how if we will only turn round and open our hearts to Him, +He is longing to come in and dwell with us.</p> + +<p>As Stephen went on, he pleaded yet more earnestly. He thought of the +absent woodcutters. He felt that he loved every single one of those +wild, rough men; and if he loved them, he, a stranger, how much more +dear must they be to their heavenly Father. 'Grant me to win each +single soul for Thee, O Lord,' he pleaded, 'each single soul for +Thee.'</p> + +<p>Where were they all now, these men to whom he had come to speak? He +could not find them. But God could. God was their shepherd. Even if +His messenger failed, the Good Shepherd would seek on until He found +each single wandering soul that He loved. 'And when the shepherd +findeth the lost sheep, after leaving the ninety and nine in the +wilderness, how does he bring it home? Does he whip it? Does he +threaten it? No such thing! he carries it on his shoulder and deals +most tenderly with the poor, weary, wandering one.'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_515" id="Page_515">[515]</a></span>While he was speaking he thought of the absent woodcutters with an +evergrowing desire to help them. He thought of the hard lives they +were forced to lead, of the temptations they must meet with daily, and +of the lack of all outward help towards a better life. As he repeated +the words again, 'Grant me, O Lord, to win these lost sheep of Thine +back to Thee and to Thy service; help me to win each single soul for +Thee,' he felt as if, somehow, his voice, his prayer, must reach the +men he sought, even though hundreds of miles of desolate forest lay +between. Towards the end of his sermon, the tears ran down his cheeks. +At last, utterly exhausted by the strength of his desire he sat down +once more, and, throwing his arms on the rough board before him, he +hid his face in his hands.</p> + +<p>A long time passed; the silence grew ever more intense. At last +Stephen lifted his head. He felt as tired as if he had gone a long +journey since he entered the wooden building. Yet it was all exactly +the same as when he had come in an hour before,—the rows of empty +forms and the bare tables, with grass and flowers growing up between +them. Stephen's eyes wandered out through the open door. He noticed a +thick mug of earthenware lying beside the path outside, evidently left +behind by the woodcutters as not worth taking with them. A common +earthenware mug it was, of coarse material and ugly shape; and +cracked. As Stephen's eyes fell upon it, he felt as if he hated that +mug more than he had ever before hated anything in his life. It seemed +to have been left behind there, on purpose to mock him. Here he was +with only an earthenware mug in sight, he who might have <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_516" id="Page_516">[516]</a></span>been +surrounded by the exquisite and delicate porcelain that he remembered +in his father's factory at Limoges. All that beauty and luxury +belonged to him by right; they might still have been his, if only he +had not listened for years to the Voice. And now the Voice had led him +on this fool's errand. Here he was, preaching to nobody, and looking +at a cracked mug. Was his whole life a mistake? a delusion? 'Am I a +fool after all?' he asked himself bitterly.</p> + +<p>He was in the sad, bitter mood that is called 'Reaction.' Strangely +enough, it often seizes people just when they have done some +particularly difficult piece of work for their Master. Perhaps it +comes to keep them from thinking that they can finish anything in +their own strength alone.</p> + +<p>Stephen was in the grip of this mood now. Happily he had wrestled with +the same sort of temptation many times before. He knew it of old; he +knew, too, that the best way to meet it is to face this giant Reaction +boldly, as Christian faced Apollyon, to wrestle with it and so to +overcome. He went straight out of the door to where the mug was lying, +and took up that mug, that cracked mug, in his hands, more reverently +than if it had been a vase of the most precious and fragile porcelain. +He took it up, and accepted it, this thing he hated worst of all. If +life had led him only to a cracked mug, at least he would accept that +mug and use it as best he could. Carrying it in his hands, he walked +to the little stream whose gentle murmur came through the tall grasses +close at hand. There he knelt down, cleansed the mug carefully, filled +it with water, and putting it to his lips, he drank <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_517" id="Page_517">[517]</a></span>a long refreshing +draught. In his pocket he found a crust of bread. He took it out, +broke it in two pieces, and then drank again. Only a piece of dry +bread! Only a drink of cold water in a cracked cup! No meal could be +simpler. Yet Stephen ate and drank with a kind of awe, enfolded in a +sustaining, life-giving Presence. He knew that he was not alone; he +knew that Another was with him, feeding and refreshing his inmost +soul, as he drank of the clear, cold water and ate the broken bread.</p> + +<p>A wonderful peace and gladness fell upon his spirit as he knelt in the +sunny air. The silence of the great forest was itself a song of +praise. He rode homewards like a man in a dream. Day after day as he +journeyed, the brooding peace grew and deepened. Even the forest +pathways looked different as he travelled through them on his homeward +way. They had been full of trustful obedience before. They were filled +with thankfulness now. But the deepest thankfulness was in Stephen's +own heart.</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p>Is that the end of the story? For many years that was the end. Stephen +never forgot his mysterious journey into the backwoods. He often +wondered why the Voice had sent him there. Nevertheless he knew, for +certain and past all doubting, that he had done right to go. Perhaps +gradually the memory faded a little and became dim....</p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p>Anyway nothing was further from his thoughts than the lonely backwoods +of America one afternoon, years after, when on one of his journeys in +Europe his business led him across London Bridge. The Bridge <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_518" id="Page_518">[518]</a></span>was +crowded with traffic. Everyone was bustling to and fro, intent on his +own business or pleasure. Not many people had leisure to notice one +slight figure distinguished by a foreign air of courtliness and grace, +in spite of the stiff, severe lines of its Quaker hat and coat. Not +many people, even if they had noticed the earnest face under the +broad-brimmed hat, would have stopped to gaze a second time upon it +that busy afternoon. Not many people. But one man did.</p> + +<p>As Stephen was hastening across the crowded Bridge, suddenly he felt +himself seized roughly by the shoulders, and he heard a gruff voice +exclaiming: 'There you are! I have found you at last, have I?'</p> + +<p>Deep down inside Stephen Grellet, the Quaker preacher, there still +remained a few traces of the fastidious French noble, Etienne de +Grellet. The traces had been buried deep down by this time, but there +they still were. They leapt suddenly to light, that busy afternoon on +London Bridge. Neither French nobleman nor Quaker preacher liked to be +seized in such unceremonious fashion. 'Friend,' he remonstrated, +drawing himself gently away, 'I think that thou art mistaken.'</p> + +<p>'No, I am not,' rejoined the other, his grip tighter than ever. 'When +you have sought a man over the face of the globe year after year, you +don't make a mistake when you find him at last. Not you! Not me +either! I'm not mistaken, and I don't let you go now I've found you +after all these years, with your same little dapper, black, cut-away +coat, that I thought so queer; and your broad-brimmed hat that I well +remember. Never heard a man preach with his hat on before!'</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_519" id="Page_519">[519]</a></span>'Hast thou heard me preach, Friend? Why then didst thou not speak to +me afterwards if thou wished?'</p> + +<p>'But I didn't wish!' answered the stranger, 'nothing I wished for +less!'</p> + +<p>'Where was it?' enquired Stephen.</p> + +<p>'Why, I heard you preaching to nobody, years and years ago,' the man +returned. 'At least you supposed you were preaching to nobody. Really, +you were preaching to me. Cut me to the heart you did too, I can tell +you.'</p> + +<p>A dawning light of comprehension came into Stephen's face as the other +went on: 'Didn't you preach in a deserted dining-shanty in the +backwoods of America near——' (and he named the place), 'on such a +day and in such a year?'</p> + +<p>He asked these questions in a loud voice, regardless of the astonished +looks of the passers-by, still holding tight to the edge of Stephen's +coat with one hand, and shaking the forefinger of the other in +Stephen's face as he spoke, to emphasize each word.</p> + +<p>By this time all traces of Etienne, the fastidious French nobleman, +had utterly disappeared. Stephen Grellet, the minister of Christ, was +alive now to the tips of his fingers. His whole soul was in his eyes +as he gazed at his questioner. Was that old, old riddle going to find +its answer at last?</p> + +<p>'Wast thou there?' he enquired breathlessly. 'Impossible! I must have +seen thee!'</p> + +<p>'I was there, right enough,' answered the man. 'But you did not see +me, because I took very good care that you should not. At first I +thought you were a lunatic, preaching to a lot of forms and tables +like that, and better left alone. Then, afterwards, I wouldn't let +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_520" id="Page_520">[520]</a></span>you see me, for fear you should see also that your words had gone in +deeper than I cared to show. I was the ganger of the woodmen,' he +continued, taking Stephen's arm in his and compelling the little +Quaker to walk beside him as he talked. 'It all happened in this way. +We had moved forth into the forest, and were putting up more shanties +to live in, when I discovered that I had left my lever at the old +settlement. So, after setting my men to work, I came back alone for my +instrument. As I approached the old place, I heard a voice. Trembling +and agitated, I drew near, I saw you through the chinks of the timber +walls of our dining-shanty, I listened to you; and as I listened, your +words went through a chink in my heart too, though its walls were +thicker than those of any dining-shanty. I was determined you should +not see me. I crept away and went back to my men. The arrow stuck +fast. I was miserable for many weeks. I had no Bible, no book of any +kind, not a creature to ask about better things.'</p> + +<p>'Poor sheep! Poor lost sheep!' Stephen murmured gently; 'I knew it; I +knew it! The Good Shepherd knew it too!'</p> + +<p>'We were a rough lot in those days,' continued the other, 'worse than +rough, bad; worse than bad, wicked. There wasn't much about sin that +we didn't know among us, didn't enjoy too, after a fashion. That was +why your sermon made me so miserable. Seemed to know just all about +the lot of us, you did. After it, for weeks I went on getting more and +more wretched. There seemed nothing to do, me not being able to find +you, but to try and get hold of the book that had put you up to it. +None of us had such a thing, of course. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_521" id="Page_521">[521]</a></span>It was a long time before I +could lay hands on one. Me and a Bible! How the men laughed! But they +stopped laughing before I had done with them. I read and read till I +found what you had said about the Good Shepherd and the lost +sheep—'and God so loved the world,' and at last—eternal life. And +then I wasn't going to keep that to myself. It's share and share alike +out in the backwoods, I can tell you. I told my men all about it, just +like you. I never let 'em alone, I gave them no peace till they were +one and all brought home to God—every single one! I heard you asking +Him: "Every single soul for Thy service, every single soul for Thee, O +Lord." That was what you asked Him for,—that, and more than that, He +gave. It's always the way! When the Lord begins to answer, He does +answer! Every single one of those men was brought home to Him. But it +didn't stop there. Three of them became missionaries, to go and bring +others back to the fold in their turn. I tell you the solemn truth. +Already one thousand lost sheep, if not more, have been brought home +to the Good Shepherd through that sermon of yours, that day in the +backwoods, when you thought you were</p> + +<p class="cen"><span class="fakesc">PREACHING TO NOBODY</span>!'</p> + +<br /> +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<br /> + +<h4>FOOTNOTES:</h4> + +<div class="footnote"><p class="noin"><a name="Footnote_42_42" id="Footnote_42_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_42_42"><span class="label">[42]</span></a> <i>The American Friend</i>, 28th November 1895.</p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_522" id="Page_522">[522]</a></span><br /> +<a name="COME-TO-GOOD" id="COME-TO-GOOD"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_523" id="Page_523">[523]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>COME-TO-GOOD<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Flowers are the little faces of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_524" id="Page_524">[524]</a></span> +God.'—(A saying of some little +children.)</i></p></div> + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'To the soul that feeds on the +bread of life the outward +conventions of religion are no +longer needful. Hid with Christ in +God there is for him small place +for outward rites, for all +experience is a holy baptism, a +perpetual supper with the Lord, +and all life a sacrifice holy and +acceptable unto God.</i></p> + +<p class="noin"><i>'This hidden life, this inward +vision, this immediate and intimate +union between the soul and God, +this, as revealed in Jesus Christ, +is the basis of the Quaker +faith.'</i><span class="fakesc">—J.W. ROWNTREE</span>.</p></div> + + +<div class="block"><p class="noin"><i>'Here the pure mind is known, and +the pure God is waited upon for +wisdom from above; and the peace, +which hath no end, is enjoyed.... +And the Light of God that calls +your minds out of the creatures, +turns them to God, to an endless +being, joy and peace: here is a +seeing God always present.... So +fare you well! And God Almighty +bless, guide and keep you all in +His wisdom.'</i><span class="fakesc">—GEORGE +FOX</span>.</p></div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_525" id="Page_525">[525]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>COME-TO-GOOD</h3> +<br /> + +<p><i>One more Meeting-house to visit; the last and the smallest of all. A +Meeting-house with no story, except the story in its name. +'"Come-to-Good!"' boys and girls from other counties will exclaim +perhaps, 'whoever heard of such a place? Why did people not call it +"Come-to-Harm," or "Ne'er-do-Weel," while they were about it?'</i></p> + +<p><i>Cornish boys and girls know better. They will explain that in their +far Western corner of England there has always been an idea, and a +very good idea it is, that a name should really describe the place to +which it belongs, and should tell the hearer something about its +character. Thus it comes to pass that on one tidal river a certain +creek, covered with salt sea-water at high tide, but showing only an +expanse of muddy flats at low water, is called 'Cockles' Peep Out.' +Another creek, near by, is known as 'Frenchman's Pill,' because some +French prisoners were sent there for safety during the Napoleonic +Wars. Then, too, a busy sea-port was once called 'Penny Come Quick,' +with good reason; and another out-of-the-way place 'Hard to Come By,' +which explains itself. Most romantic of all, the valley where King +Charles's army lost a battle long ago is still known as 'Fine and +Brave.' There, the country people say, headless ghosts of defeated +Cavaliers may <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_526" id="Page_526">[526]</a></span>still be seen on moonlight nights riding up and down, +carrying their own plumed-hatted heads under their arms. All over the +county these story places are to be found. The more odd a Cornish name +sounds at the first hearing, the more apt it will often prove, when +the reason for it is understood.</i></p> + +<p><i>Thus it is not strange that a lonely, shut-in valley, folded away +between two steep hills, should be known as 'Come-to-Good,' since, for +more than two centuries, men and women, and little children also, have +'Come to Good' in that remote and hidden place. There, surrounded by +sheltering trees, stands the little old Meeting-house. Its high +thatched roof projects, like a bushy eyebrow, over the low white walls +and thick white buttresses, shading the three narrow casement windows +of pale-green glass with their diamond lattice panes. The windows are +almost hidden by the roof; the roof is almost hidden by the trees; and +the trees are almost hidden by the hills that rise above them. +Therefore the pilgrim always comes upon the Meeting-house with a +certain sense of surprise, so carefully is it concealed;—like a most +secret and precious thought.</i></p> + +<p><i>The bare Cornish uplands and wide moors have a trick of hiding away +these rich, fertile valleys, that have given rise to the proverb: +'Cornwall is a lady, whose beauty is seen in her wrinkles.' Yet, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_527" id="Page_527">[527]</a></span>hidden away as it is, 'Come-to-Good' has drawn people to it for +centuries. In all the country round, for generations past, one Sunday +in August has been known as 'Come-to-Good Sunday,' because, on that +day, the Friends assemble from three or four distant towns to hold +their meeting there. And not the Friends only. No bell has ever broken +the stillness of that peaceful valley, yet for miles round, on a +'Meeting Sunday,' the lanes are full of small groups of people: +parents and children; farm lads and lasses; thoughtful-faced men, who +admit that 'they never go anywhere else'; shy lovers lingering behind, +or whole families walking together. All are to be seen on their way to +refresh their souls with the hour of quiet worship in the snowy white +Meeting-house under its thatched roof.</i></p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p><i>Many years ago, little Lois (whom you read about at the beginning of +this book) was taken to Come-to-Good for the first time on such a +Sunday, by her Grandmother. Even now, whenever she goes there, she +still seems to see that dear Grandmother's tall, erect figure, in its +flowing black silk mantle and Quaker bonnet, walking with stately +steps up the path in front; or stooping for once—she who never +stooped!—to enter the little low door. People who did not know her +well, and even some who did, occasionally felt Lois' 'dear +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_528" id="Page_528">[528]</a></span>Grandmamma' rather a formidable old lady. They said she was 'severe' +and 'alarmingly dignified,' and 'she says straight out just exactly +what she thinks.' Certainly, she was not one of the spoiling, +indulgent, eiderdown-silk-cushion kind of Grannies that some children +have now; but Lois loved her with all her heart and was never really +afraid of her. What stories she could tell! What wonderful stockings +full of treasures Santa Claus brought down her chimneys on Christmas +Eve to the happy grandchild staying with her! Lois loved to sit beside +her 'dear Grandmamma,' and to watch her in her corner by the fire, +upright as ever, knitting. Even on the long drive to Come-to-Good, the +feeling of her smooth, calm hand had soothed the restless little +fingers held in it so firmly and gently. The drive over, Lois wondered +what would happen to her in the strange Meeting-house when she might +not sit by that dear Grandmother's side any longer, since she, of +course, would have to be up in the Ministers' gallery, with all the +other 'Weighty Friends.' But, at Come-to-Good, things always turn out +right. Lois found, to her delight, that she and the other boys and +girls were to be allowed to creep, very quietly, up the twisty wooden +stairs at the far end of the Meeting-house, and to make their way up +into the 'loft' where four or five low forms had been specially placed +for them. Lois loved to find herself sitting there. She felt <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_529" id="Page_529">[529]</a></span>like a +little white pigeon, high up on a perch, able to see over the heads of +all the people below, and able even to look down on the grave faces of +the Ministers opposite. The row of broad-brimmed hats and coal-scuttle +bonnets looked entirely different and much more attractive, seen from +above, than when she looked up at them in Meeting at home. Then, when +some one rose to speak, Lois liked to watch the ripple that passed +over the heads beneath her, as all the faces turned towards the +speaker. Or when everybody, moved by the same impulse, stood up during +a prayer or sat down at its close, it was as fascinating to watch them +gently rise and gently sit down again as it was to watch the wind +sweep over the sea, curling it up into waves or wavelets, or the +breeze rippling over a broad field of blue-green June barley. Lois +never remembered the time when she was too small to enjoy those two +sights. 'I do like watching something I can't see, moving something I +can!' she used to think. To watch a Meeting, from the loft at +Come-to-Good, was rather like that, she felt; though years had to pass +before she found out the reason why.</i></p> + +<p><i>Out of doors, when the quiet hour of worship was over, other delights +were waiting. The small old white Meeting-house is surrounded by a yet +older, small green burial-ground, where long grasses, and flowers +innumerable, cover the gentle <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_530" id="Page_530">[530]</a></span>slopes. The soft mounds cluster closely +around the walls; as if those who were laid there had wished that +their bodies might rest as near as possible to the house of peace +where their spirits had rested while on earth.</i></p> + +<p><i>Further off the mounds are fewer; the grassy spaces between them grow +wider; till it becomes difficult to tell which are graves and which +are just grassy hillocks. Further still, the old burial-ground dips +down, and loses itself entirely, and becomes first a wood, then +frankly an orchard that fills up the bottom of the valley, through +which a clear brown stream goes wandering.</i></p> + +<p><i>Yet, midway on the hilly slope above, half hidden gravestones can +still be discerned, among the grass and flowers; shining through them, +like a smile that was once a sorrow. Small, grey, perfectly plain +stones they are, all exactly alike, as is the custom in Friends' +graveyards, where to be allowed a headstone at all, was, at one time, +considered 'rather gay'! Each stone bears nothing but a name upon it +and sometimes a date. 'Honor Magor' is the name carved on one of the +oldest stooping stones, and under it a date nearly 100 years old. That +is all. Lois used to wonder who Honor Magor was,—an old woman? a +young one? or possibly even a little girl? Where did she live when she +was alive? how did she come to be buried there? But there are no +answers <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_531" id="Page_531">[531]</a></span>to any of these questions; and there is no need to know more +than that the tired body of Honor Magor has been resting peacefully +for nearly a century, hidden under the tangle of waving grasses and +ever-changing flowers at Come-to-Good.</i></p> + +<p><i>Ever-changing flowers? Yes; because the changing of the seasons is +more marked there than at other places. For Come-to-Good lies so many +miles from any town, the tide of life has ebbed away so far from this +quiet pool, that, for a long time past, Meetings have only been held +here four times in the year. Summer, Autumn, Winter, and Spring,—each +season brings its own Sunday. Then, and for a week or two beforehand, +the topmost bar of every wooden gate in the neighbourhood bears a +modest piece of white paper announcing that 'a Friends' Meeting will +be held at Come-to-Good on the following First Day morning, at eleven +o'clock, when the company of any who are inclined to attend will be +acceptable.'</i></p> + +<p><i>August Sunday brings deep, red roses tossing themselves up, like a +crimson fountain, against the grey thatched roof. November Sunday has +its own treasures: sweet, late blackberries, crimson and golden +leaves, perhaps even a few late hazel nuts and acorns still hiding +down in the wood. In February, the first gummy stars of the celandine +are to be seen peeping out from under the hedge, while a demure little +procession of white <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_532" id="Page_532">[532]</a></span>and green snowdrops walks primly up the narrow +path to Meeting. The 'Fair Maids of February' seem to have an especial +love for this quiet spot.</i></p> + +<p><i>But in May—ah! May is the best Sunday of all. In May not only is the +whole valley knee-deep in grass and ferns and flowers and bluebells. +There is something still better! In May the burial-ground is all +singing and tinkling silently with fairy spires of columbines. Garden +flowers in most other places, they are quite wild here. Purple and +deep-blue and pale-pink columbines are growing up everywhere; each +flower with its own little pairs of twin turtle-doves hidden away +inside. Even white columbine, rarest of all, has been found in that +magic valley. I am afraid Lois thought longingly, all through the +silence on a May Sunday, of the nosegay of columbines she meant to +gather afterwards. Directly Meeting was over, the children pelted down +very fast from the loft. Numbers of little feet flew across the sunlit +grass, while the elder Friends were walking sedately down the path to +the gate.</i></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0a"><i>'O Columbine, open your folded wrapper,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0a"><i>Where two twin turtle-doves dwell,'</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="noin"><i>chanted the children as they frolicked about, forgetting that they +had been stiff with sitting so long in Meeting, as they gathered +handfuls of their treasures.</i></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_533" id="Page_533">[533]</a></span><i>All too soon they would hear the call: 'Come, children! it is time to +be going.' And then they would scamper back, their hands full of their +dear dove flowers. No wonder they felt that in leaving this sunny spot +they were leaving one of the happiest places on earth. If only they +could stay there! If only some one could be enjoying it always! What a +pity that on the forty-eight other Sundays of the year it should all +be deserted, shut up and forsaken! There might be numbers of other +wonderful flowers that nobody ever saw. There the old Meeting-house +stays all by itself the whole year round, except on those four +Sundays, even as a lonely pool of clear water remains high up on the +rocks, showing that the great sea itself did come there once, long +ago, flowing in mightily, filling up all the bare chinks and +crannies.</i></p> + +<p><i>Will such a high tide ever come back again to Come-to-Good? Is that +tide perhaps beginning to flow in, noiselessly and steadily, even +now?</i></p> + +<p><i>Some things look rather as if it might be; for new Friends' +Meeting-houses are being built in crowded cities to-day where even the +high tide of long ago never came. But then, in lonely country places +like Come-to-Good, scattered up and down all over England, there are +many of these deserted Meeting-houses, where hardly anybody comes now +or only comes out of curiosity. Yet the high tide did fill them all +once long ago, full to overflowing, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_534" id="Page_534">[534]</a></span>when people met within their +walls constantly, seeking and finding God.</i></p> + +<br /><br /> + +<p><i>The stories in this book about our 'Quaker Saints' show at what a +cost these deserted places were won for us by our brave forefathers. +They, with their health and their lives gladly given in those terrible +prisons of long ago, gained for us our liberty to meet together 'in +numbers five or more,' to practise a 'form of worship not authorised +by law'; that is to say, without any prayer-book or set form of +service being used.</i></p> + +<p><i>Is our simple Quaker way of worship really worth the price they paid +for it? Or is it merely a quaint and interesting relic of a by-gone +age, something like the 'Friend's bonnet' that Lois' Grandmother wore +as a matter of course, which now is never used, but lies in a drawer, +carefully covered with tissue paper and fragrant with lavender?</i></p> + +<p><i>Is our Quaker faith like that? Is it something antiquated and +interesting, but of no real use to us or to anybody to-day? Or did +these 'Quaker Saints' of whom we have heard, did they, and many other +brave men and women, whose stories are not written here, really and +truly make a big discovery? Did they, by their living and by their +dying, remind the world of a truth that it had been in danger of +forgetting? a truth that may <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_535" id="Page_535">[535]</a></span>still be in danger of being forgotten +if quite ordinary, everyday people are not faithful now in their +turn?</i></p> + + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep534" id="imagep534"></a> +<a href="images/imagep534.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep534.jpg" width="90%" alt="A FRIENDS' MEETING" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">A FRIENDS' MEETING<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p><i>Is it really and truly true, that where two or three humble human +souls are gathered together in His Name, in the simplest possible +fashion, without any priest, or altar, or visible signs to help them, +yet our Lord is there? Can He be indeed among them still to-day? and +will He be forever, as He promised? feeding them Himself with the true +Bread of Life, satisfying their thirst with Living Water, baptizing +their souls with Power and with Peace?—</i></p> + +<p><i>Children dear, you must answer these questions for yourselves, +fearlessly and honestly. No one else can answer them for you. The +answers may seem long in coming, but do not be in a hurry. They will +come in time, if you seek steadfastly and humbly. Only remember one +thing, as you think over these questions. Even if this is our way, the +right way for us, this very simple Quaker way that our forefathers won +for us at such a cost, still that does not necessarily make it the +right way for all other people too. God's world and God's plans are +much bigger than that. He brings His children home by numbers of +different paths, but for each child of His, God's straight way for +that child is the very best.</i></p> + +<p><i>The wise old Persians had a proverb, 'The <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_536" id="Page_536">[536]</a></span>ways unto God are as the +number of the souls of the children of men.' Let us remember this, if +we ever want to try to force other people to think about things +exactly as we do. Let us remember, too, that rivalry and pride, that +saying, or even thinking, 'My way is the only right way, and a much +better way than your way,' is the only really antiquated kind of +worship. The sooner we all learn to lay that aside, not in lavender +and tissue paper, but to cast it away utterly and forget that it ever +existed,—the better.</i></p> + +<p><i>It is not a bit of an excuse for us when we are inclined to judge +other people critically, to read in these stories that some of the +early Friends did and said harsh and intolerant things. They lived in +a much harsher, more intolerant age than ours. The seventeenth +century, as we know, has been called 'a dreadfully ill-mannered +century.' Let us do our very best not to give any one an excuse for +saying the same of this twentieth century in which we live. Thus, in +reading of these Quaker Saints, let us try to copy, not their +harshness or their intolerance, but their unflinching courage, their +firm steadfastness, their burning hope for every man; above all, their +unconquerable love.</i></p> + +<p><i>Remember the old lesson of the daisies. Each flower must open itself +as wide as ever it can, in order to receive all that the Sun wants to +give to it. But, while each daisy receives its own ray of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_537" id="Page_537">[537]</a></span>sunshine +thankfully and gladly, it must rejoice that other very different rays, +at very different angles, can reach other flowers. Yet the Sun Heart +from which they all come is One and the Same. All the different ways +of worship are One too, when they meet in the Centre.</i></p> + +<p><i>Therefore it is not strange that at little secluded Come-to-Good, +where the blue doves of the columbines keep watch over the quiet +graves, I should remember a message that came to me in another, very +different, House of God—a magnificent Cathedral far away in South +Italy. There, high up, above the lights and pictures and flowers and +ornaments of the altar, half hidden at times by the clouds of +ascending incense, I caught the shining of great golden letters. +Gradually, as I watched, they formed themselves into these three words +of old Latin:</i></p> + +<p class="cen2 fakesc">DEUS ABSCONDITUS HEIC.</p> + +<p><i>And the golden message meant:</i></p> + +<p class="cen2 fakesc">'<i>GOD IS HIDDEN HERE.</i>'</p> + +<p><i>That is the secret all these different ways of worship are meant to +teach us, if we will only learn. Let us not judge one another, not +ever dream of judging one another any more. Only, wherever our own way +of worship leads us, let us seek to follow it diligently, dutifully, +humbly, and to the end. Then, not only when we are worshipping <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_538" id="Page_538">[538]</a></span>with +our brothers and sisters around us, in church, chapel, great +cathedral, or quiet meeting-house, but also (perhaps nearest and +closest of all) in the silence of our own hearts, we shall surely find +in truth and with thankfulness that</i></p> + +<p class="cen2 fakesc">GOD IS HIDDEN HERE.</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="HISTORICAL_NOTES" id="HISTORICAL_NOTES"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_539" id="Page_539">[539]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>HISTORICAL NOTES<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_540" id="Page_540">[540]</a></span><br /> +<hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_541" id="Page_541">[541]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h3>HISTORICAL NOTES</h3> +<br /> + +<p><span class="sc">Note</span>.—The References throughout are to the Cambridge Edition +of George Fox's Journal, except where otherwise stated. The spelling +has been modernised and the extracts occasionally abridged.</p> + +<br /> +<p class="noin">'STIFF AS A TREE, PURE AS A BELL.'</p> + +<p>Historical; described as closely as possible from George Fox's own +words in his Journal, vol. ii. pp. 94, 100-104.</p> + +<br /> +<p class="noin">'PURE FOY, MA JOYE.'</p> + +<p>Historical. See George Fox's Journal (Ellwood Edition), pp. 1-17. See +also Sewel's 'History of the Quakers,' and 'Beginnings of Quakerism,' +by W.C. Braithwaite. See 'George Fox,' by Thomas Hodgkin (Leaders of +Religion Series), for description of Fenny Drayton village, manor +house, church, and neighbourhood.</p> + +<p>See also W. Penn's Preface to George Fox's Journal (Ellwood Edition), +pp. xxiv and xxv, for details of parentage, childhood, and youth.</p> + +<br /> +<p class="noin">'THE ANGEL OF BEVERLEY.'</p> + +<p>This is a purely imaginary story, written for a ten-year-old listener +who begged for 'more of a story about him when he was young.' The +connection of a member of the Purefoy family with the 'Great Lady of +Beverley' has no foundation in fact. On visiting Fenny Drayton, since +writing the story, I find, however, that there were a brother and +sister Edward and Joyce Purefoy, who lived a few years earlier than +the date of this tale. They may still be seen in marble on a tomb in +the North Aisle with their father, the Colonel Purefoy of that day, +who does wear a ruff as described in the story. It is not impossible +that the Colonel Purefoy of George Fox's Journal may also have had a +son and daughter of the same names as described in my account, but I +have no warrant for supposing this and am anxious that this imaginary +tale should not be supposed to possess the same kind of authenticity +as most of the other stories. Priest Stephens' remark about George +Fox, and the scenes in Beverley Minster and at Justice Hotham's house, +are, however, historical.</p> + +<br /> +<p class="noin">'TAMING THE TIGER.'</p> + +<p>Historical. See George Fox's Journal (Ellwood Edition), pp. 27, 28, +31-48, 335, for the different incidents.</p> + +<br /> +<p class="noin">'THE MAN IN LEATHER BREECHES.'</p> + +<p>Expanded, with imaginary incidents and consequences, from a few +paragraphs in George Fox's Journal, i. 20.</p> + +<br /> +<p class="noin"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_542" id="Page_542">[542]</a></span>'THE SHEPHERD OF PENDLE HILL.'</p> + +<p>Expanded from George Fox's Journal, i. 40.</p> + +<p>N.B.—The Shepherd, who is the speaker, is a wholly imaginary person.</p> + +<br /> +<p class="noin">'THE PEOPLE IN WHITE RAIMENT' and 'A WONDERFUL FORTNIGHT.'</p> + +<p>Historical. Taken from various sources, chiefly George Fox's Journal, +vol. i. pp. 40-44, and two unpublished papers by Ernest E. Taylor, +describing the lives and homes of the Westmorland Seekers: 'A Great +People to be Gathered' and 'Faithful Servants of God.' See also his +'Cameos from the Life of George Fox,' Sewel's 'History of the +Quakers,' and 'Beginnings of Quakerism,' by W.C. Braithwaite.</p> + +<br /> +<p class="noin">'UNDER THE YEW-TREES.'</p> + +<p>Expanded from George Fox's Journal, i. 47, 48, 52. The conversation +among the girls is of course imaginary, but many details are taken +from 'Margaret Fox of Swarthmoor Hall,' by Helen G. Crosfield, a most +helpful book that has been constantly used in all these stories about +Swarthmoor.</p> + +<br /> +<p class="noin">'BEWITCHED!'</p> + +<p>Historical. See Sewel's History, i. 106. George Fox's Journal, i. 51. +'Testimony of Margaret Fox' (Ellwood Edition of above, p. xliv). +'Margaret Fox of Swarthmoor Hall,' p. 15. Also 'England under the +Stuarts,' by G.M. Trevelyan (for Witchcraft).</p> + +<br /> +<p class="noin">'THE JUDGE'S RETURN.'</p> + +<p>Historical. See 'Testimony of Margaret Fox' (Ellwood Edition of G. +Fox's Journal), p. xlv. Sewel's History, i. 106.</p> + +<br /> +<p class="noin">'STRIKE AGAIN!'</p> + +<p>Historical. See George Fox's Journal, i. 57-59. Sewel's History, i. +111-112.</p> + +<br /> +<p class="noin">'MAGNANIMITY.'</p> + +<p>Historical. See George Fox's Journal, i. 59-61. Sewel's History, i. +113-114.</p> + +<br /> +<p class="noin">'MILES HALHEAD AND THE HAUGHTY LADY.'</p> + +<p>Historical. See Sewel's History, i. 129-131, and George Fox's Journal, +i. 53, 56, for George Fox's sermon.</p> + +<br /> +<p class="noin">'SCATTERING THE SEED.'</p> + +<p>Historical. Details taken from George Fox's Journal, i. 141, 209, 347; +292, 297; 11, 337. See also Chapter viii. 'The Mission to the South,' +in 'Beginnings of Quakerism,' by W.C. Braithwaite. Also 'First +Publishers of Truth,' for accounts of the work in the different +counties mentioned.</p> + +<br /> +<p class="noin"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_543" id="Page_543">[543]</a></span>'WRESTLING FOR GOD.'</p> + +<p>Historical. See 'Beginnings of Quakerism,' Chapter viii. Also 'Letters +from the Early Friends,' by A.R. Barclay. 'Piety Promoted,' i. 35-38. +'Story of Quakerism,' by E.B. Emmott, for description of old London. +See also 'Memorials of the Righteous Revived,' by C. Marshall and +Thomas Camm, and note that I have followed T. Camm's account in this +book of his father's journey south with E. Burrough. W.C. Braithwaite +in 'Beginnings of Quakerism,' following 'First Publishers of Truth,' +thinks it, however, more probable that F. Howgill was E. Burrough's +companion throughout the journey, and that the two Friends reached +London together.</p> + +<br /> +<p class="noin">'LITTLE JAMES AND HIS JOURNEYS' and 'THE FIRST QUAKER MARTYR.'</p> + +<p>Mainly historical. Details taken largely from 'Life of James Parnell,' +by C. Fell Smith. See also 'James Parnell,' by Thomas Hodgkin, in 'The +Trial of our Faith.' Also 'Beginnings of Quakerism,' Chapter ix. and +Sewel's History. The discourse of the two Baptists on Carlisle Bridge +and James's association with them is imaginary, but they are +themselves historical characters, and the incidents they describe are +narrated in George Fox's Journal, i. 114, 115, 124-126; 153, 186. For +'The First Quaker Martyr,' see 'The Lamb's Defence against Lyes, a +true Testimony concerning the sufferings and death of James Parnell. +1656.'</p> + +<br /> +<p class="noin">'THE CHILDREN OF READING MEETING.'</p> + +<p>See Emmott's 'Story of Quakerism,' p. 83. Also 'Letters of the Early +Friends.' A very graphic but fictitious account of this incident is +given in 'The Children's Meeting,' by M.E. England, now out of print. +See also 'Lessons from Early Quakerism in Reading,' by W.C. +Braithwaite. My account is founded on history, but I have described +imaginary children. The list of scents used on Sir William Armorer's +wig is borrowed from a genuine one of a slightly later period.</p> + +<br /> +<p class="noin">'THE SADDEST STORY OF ALL.'</p> + +<p>Historical. See Sewel's History, i. 80, 255-293, 382-397, 408, 438. +Also 'Beginnings of Quakerism,' Chapter xi. 'Nayler's Fall.' Also +James Nayler's collected Books and Papers, published in 1716.</p> + +<br /> +<p class="noin">'PALE WINDFLOWERS.'</p> + +<p>See account of Dewsbury in 'Beginnings of Quakerism.' Also 'The +faithful Testimony of that Antient Servant of the Lord, and Minister +of the Everlasting Gospel, William Dewsbury.' Also <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_544" id="Page_544">[544]</a></span>'Testimony to Mary +Samm,' p. 348, same volume. The details given are as far as possible +historical, but the setting, the walk, and the windflowers are +imaginary. The prison scene is as far as possible historical. The +Testimony to little Mary tells the sequel to her 'happy evening,' and +a few paragraphs from it are given here.</p> + +<p class="cen2">TESTIMONY TO MARY SAMM, 1680.</p> + +<div class="block2"><p class="noin">The first day of the second month, 1680, it pleased the Lord to +afflict her with a violent fever, that brought her very low in a +little time, and great was her exercise of spirit, as to her +condition and state with God, many times weeping when she was +alone.... She said, 'If this distemper do not abate, I must die, +but my soul shall go to Eternal Joy, Eternal, Eternal and +Everlasting Life and Peace with my God for ever: Oh! praises, +praises to Thy Majesty, Oh, my God! who helpeth me to go through +with patience, what I am to endure.' Then after some time she +said. 'Friends, we must all go hence one after another, and they +that live the longest know and endure the greatest sorrow: +therefore, O Lord, if it be Thy will, take me to Thyself, that +my soul may rest in peace with Thee, and not any one to see me +here any more. Oh! praises, praises be unto Thy holy Name for +ever in Thy will being done with me, to take me to Thyself, +where I shall be in heavenly joy, yea, in heavenly joy for ever +and for evermore.'...</p> + +<p>And many times would she be praying to the Lord day and night, +'O Lord, lay no more upon me, than Thou givest me strength to +bear, and go through with patience, that Thy will may be done, +that Thy will may be done' (many times together). 'Oh! help me, +help me, O my God! that I may praise Thy holy Name for ever.'</p> + +<p>And so continued, very often praising the Name of the Lord with +joyful sounds, and singing high praises to His holy Name for +ever and for evermore; she being much spent with lifting up her +voice in high praises to God, through fervency of spirit, and +her body being weak, her Grandfather went into the room, and +desired her to be as still as possibly she could, and keep her +mind inward, and stayed upon the Lord, and see if she could have +a little rest and sleep: she answered, 'Dear Grandfather, I +shall die, and I cannot but praise the Name of the Lord whilst I +have a being; I do not know what to do to praise His Name enough +whilst I live; but whilst there is life there is hope; but I do +believe it is better for me to die than live.'</p> + +<p>And so continued speaking of the goodness of the Lord from day +to day; which caused many tears to fall from the eyes of them +that heard her. Her Grandfather coming to her, asked her how she +did? She said to him and to her Mother, 'I have had no rest this +night nor to-day; I did not know but I should have died this +night, but very hardly I tugged through it; but <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_545" id="Page_545">[545]</a></span>I shall die +to-day, and a grave shall be made, and my body put into a hole, +and my soul shall go to heavenly joy, yea, heavenly joy and +everlasting peace for evermore.'</p> + +<p>Then she said, 'Dear Grandfather, I do believe thou wilt not +stay long behind me, when I am gone.'</p> + +<p>He answered, 'Dear Granddaughter, I shall come as fast as the +Lord orders my way.'</p> + +<p>Then she praised the Name of the Lord with high praises and +joyful sounds for a season, and then desired her Mother to let +her be taken up a little time; saying, 'It may be it will give +me some ease.' Then they sent for her Grandfather, who said to +her, 'If this be thy last day, and thereon thou art to die, it +is not safe for thee to be taken forth of thy bed: dear Mary, +thou shalt have all attendance that is convenient, as to set +thee up in thy bed, and to lay thee down again; but "to take +thee up" we are not willing to do it.'</p> + +<p>She answered, 'Well, Grandfather, what thou seest best for me, I +am willing to have it so.'</p> + +<p>Then her Mother and Aunt set her up in her bed; she said it did +refresh her and give her some ease: and as they were ordering +what was to be done about her bed, she said, 'Oh! what a great +deal of do is here in ordering the bed for one that is upon +their death-bed.'</p> + +<p>Her Aunt, Joan Dewsbury, said, 'Mary, dost thou think thou art +upon thy death-bed?'</p> + +<p>She answered, 'Yea, yea, I am upon my death-bed, I shall die +to-day, and I am very willing to die, because I know it is +better for me to die than live.'</p> + +<p>Her Aunt replied, 'I do believe it is better for thee to die +than live.'</p> + +<p>She said, 'Yea, it is well for me to die.'...</p> + +<p>'And, dear Mother, I would have thee remember my love to my dear +sisters, relations, and friends; and now I have nothing to do, I +have nothing to do.'</p> + +<p>A friend answered, 'Nothing, Mary, but to die.'</p> + +<p>Then she said to her Mother, 'I desire thee to give me a little +clear posset drink, then I will see if I can have a little rest +and sleep before I die.'</p> + +<p>When the posset drink came to her, she took a little.... Then +she said to her Mother, 'I have a swelling behind my ear, but I +would not have anything done to it, nor to my sore throat nor +mouth, for all will be well enough when I am in my grave.'</p> + +<p>Then she asked what time of day it was? it being the latter part +of the day, her Grandfather said, 'The chimes are going four;' +she said, 'I thought it had been more; I will see if I can have +a little rest and sleep before I die.'</p> + +<p>And so she lay still, and had a sweet rest and sleep; and then +she awaked without any complaint, and in a quiet peaceable frame +of spirit laid down her head in peace, when the clock struck the +fifth hour of the 9th day of the 2nd month, 1680.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_546" id="Page_546">[546]</a></span>We whose names are under-written were eye and ear witnesses of +what is before expressed, as near as could be taken, and does +not much vary from what she declared, as the substance (though +much more sweet and comfortable expressions passed from her, but +for brevity sake are willing this only to publish) who stood by +her when she drew her last breath.</p> + +<p class="noin" style="margin-left: 15%;"> +William Dewsbury, her Grandfather.<br /> +Mary Samm, her Mother.<br /> +Joan Dewsbury, her Aunt.<br /> +Hannah Whitthead, a Friend.<br /></p> +</div> + + +<br /> +<p class="noin">'AN UNDISTURBED MEETING.'</p> + +<p>I first heard this story graphically told by Ernest E. Taylor. His +intimate knowledge of the neighbourhood, and minute historical +researches into the lives of the Early Friends in this district, made +the whole scene vivid to his listener. In writing down my own account +from memory, some months later, I find I have unintentionally altered +some of the details, and have in particular allowed too long a time +for the soldiers' carouse, and have substituted a troop of horse for +militia. For these lapses from strict historical accuracy I alone am +responsible; but it has seemed better to leave the story as it was +written and to append the following note from the ancient MS. account +of the sufferings at Sedbergh, to show exactly what did occur:</p> + +<p>'1665. Friends being met at John Blaykling's at Draw-well, Lawrence +Hodgson of Dent, an Ensign to the Militia, came into the meeting with +other Militia men, cursing and swearing that if Friends would not +depart and disperse, he would kill them and slay and what not. Then as +Friends did not disperse they pulled them out of doors and so broke up +the meeting. The Ensign thereupon went off, expecting Friends to have +followed him, but they sat down and stood together at the house end [? +and] on the hill-side. So the Ensign came back and with his drawn +sword struck at several Friends and cut some in the hat and some in +the clothes, and so forced and drove them to Sedbergh town, where +after some chief men of the parish had been spoken with, Friends were +let go home in peace.'—<i>Sedbergh MSS. Sufferings.</i></p> + +<p>It was of course the gathering together 'in numbers more than five' +and 'refusing to disperse' that was at this time illegal and made the +Friends liable to severe punishment. There is still a tradition in the +neighbourhood that the Quakers were to be taken not to Ingmire Hall, +but to the house of another Justice at Thorns.</p> + + +<br /> +<p class="noin">'BUTTERFLIES IN THE FELLS.'</p> + +<p>See 'Bygone Northumberland,' by W. Andrews. 'Piety Promoted,' i. +88-90. W.C. Braithwaite's 'Beginnings of Quakerism,' p. 373. 'The +Society of Friends in Newcastle,' by J.W. Steel.</p> + +<br /> +<p class="noin"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_547" id="Page_547">[547]</a></span>'THE VICTORY OF AMOR STODDART.'</p> + +<p>See George Fox's Journal, i. 185, 190, 261, 431; ii. 167. Sewel's +History, i. 29. 'Beginnings of Quakerism,' p. 365.</p> + +<br /> +<p class="noin">'THE MARVELLOUS VOYAGE OF THE GOOD SHIP "WOODHOUSE."'</p> + +<p>Taken from Robert Fowler's own account: 'A true Relation of the Voyage +undertaken by me Robert Fowler with my small vessel called the +"Woodhouse" but performed by the Lord like as he did Noah's ark, +wherein he shut up a few righteous persons and landed them safe, even +at the Hill Ararat,' published in the 'History of the Society of +Friends in America.'</p> + +<p>The scenes on Bridlington Quay and in London are not strictly +historical, but may be inferred from the above account.</p> + +<br /> +<p class="noin">'RICHARD SELLAR AND THE "MERCIFUL MAN."'</p> + +<p>Taken from Richard Sellar's own narrative: 'An account of the +sufferings of Richard Seller of Keinsey, a Fisherman who was prest in +Scarborough Piers, in the time of the two last engagements between the +Dutch and English, in the year 1665,' published in Besse's 'Sufferings +of the Quakers,' vol. ii. pp. 112-120.</p> + +<br /> +<p class="noin">'TWO ROBBER STORIES—WEST AND EAST.'</p> + +<p>(1) Leonard Fell and the Highwayman, taken from 'The Fells of +Swarthmoor Hall,' by M. Webb, p. 353.</p> + +<p>(2) On the Road to Jerusalem. Taken from George Robinson's own +account, published in 'A Brief History of the Voyage of Katharine +Evans and Sarah Cheevers.' pp. 207 ad fin.</p> + +<br /> +<p class="noin">'SILVER SLIPPERS.'</p> + +<p>Mainly historical. See Sewel's History, i. 294, 473; ii. 343. See also +'History of the Quakers,' by G. Croese, for some additional +particulars. The best account of Mary Fisher and her adventurous +journey is given in 'Quaker Women,' by Mabel R. Brailsford, Chapters +v. and vi., entitled 'Mary Fisher' and 'An Ambassador to the Grand +Turk.' I am indebted to Miss Brailsford for permission to draw freely +from her most interesting narrative, and also to quote from her +extracts from Paul Rycaut's History.</p> + +<p>The only historical foundation for the 'Silver Slippers' is the +statement by one historian that before Mary Fisher's interview with +the Sultan she was allowed twenty-four hours to rest and to 'arrange +her dress.' H.M. Wallis has kindly supplied me with some local +colouring and information about Adrianople.</p> + +<br /> +<p class="noin">'FIERCE FEATHERS.'</p> + +<p>A historical incident, with some imaginary actors. The <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_548" id="Page_548">[548]</a></span>outlines of +this story are given in 'Historical Anecdotes' by Pike. Several +additional particulars and the copy of a painting of the Indians at +Meeting are to be found in the Friends' Reference Library at +Devonshire House. For some helpful notes about the locality I am +indebted to H.P. Morris of Philadelphia, U.S.A.</p> + +<br /> +<p class="noin">'THE THIEF IN THE TANYARD.'</p> + +<p>Historical. The facts and the words of the speakers are taken almost +verbatim from Pike's 'Historical Anecdotes.' I have only supplied the +setting for the story.</p> + +<br /> +<p class="noin">'HOW A FRENCH NOBLE BECAME A FRIEND.'</p> + +<p>Entirely historical. All the facts are taken from the Autobiography of +Stephen Grellet.</p> + +<br /> +<p class="noin">'PREACHING TO NOBODY.'</p> + +<p>This story is not to be found in Stephen Grellet's Autobiography. It +appeared in 'The American Friend,' November 1895, and is now included +in the penny 'Life of Stephen Grellet' in the Friends Ancient and +Modern Series. The actual words of Stephen Grellet's sermon have not +been recorded. Those in the text are expanded from a sentence in +another discourse of his, given here in quotation marks. The incident +of the cracked mug is not historical.</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h4>THE END</h4> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h5><i>Printed in Great Britain by</i> <span class="sc">R. & R. Clark, Limited</span>, +<i>Edinburgh</i>.</h5> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="tr"> +<p class="cen"><a name="TN" id="TN"></a>Typographical errors corrected in text:</p> +<br /> +Page 22: thinkng replaced with thinking<br /> +Page 148: twelye replaced with twelve<br /> +Page 275: thoughout replaced with throughout<br /> +</div> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BOOK OF QUAKER SAINTS***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 19605-h.txt or 19605-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/9/6/0/19605">http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/6/0/19605</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Cayley-Robinson + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: A Book of Quaker Saints + + +Author: Lucy Violet Hodgkin + + + +Release Date: October 22, 2006 [eBook #19605] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BOOK OF QUAKER SAINTS*** + + +E-text prepared by Mark C. Orton, Jeannie Howse, and the Project Gutenberg +Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net/) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original lovely illustrations. + See 19605-h.htm or 19605-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/9/6/0/19605/19605-h/19605-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/9/6/0/19605/19605-h.zip) + + + +--------------------------------------------------------+ + | Transcriber's Note: | + | | + | Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original | + | document have been preserved. | + | | + | Three obvious typographical errors were corrected in | + | this text. For a complete list, please see the end of | + | the book. | + | | + +--------------------------------------------------------+ + + + + + +A BOOK OF QUAKER SAINTS + + + + + +------------------------------------------------+ + | _BY THE SAME AUTHOR._ | + | | + | PILGRIMS IN PALESTINE. | + | [_Out of print._] | + | | + | THE HAPPY WORLD. | + | | + | CONTRIBUTIONS TO 'THE | + | FELLOWSHIP OF SILENCE.' | + | | + | SILENT WORSHIP: THE WAY OF WONDER. | + | (_Swarthmore Lecture, 1919._) | + +------------------------------------------------+ + + +[Illustration: LOIS AND HER NURSE] + + + + +A BOOK OF QUAKER SAINTS + +by + +L. V. HODGKIN +(Mrs. John Holdsworth) + +Illustrated By F. Cayley-Robinson, A.R.A. + + + + + + + +MacMillan and Co., Limited +St. Martin's Street, London +1922 +Copyright +First Edition 1917 Reprinted 1918 +Transferred to Macmillan & Co. and reprinted 1922 +Printed in Great Britain + + + + + DEDICATED + TO THE + CHILDREN + OF THE + SOCIETY OF FRIENDS + AND TO THE + GRANDCHILDREN + OF + THOMAS HODGKIN + + + + +PREFACE + + +The following stories are intended for children of various ages. The +introductory chapter, 'A Talk about Saints,' and the stories marked +with an asterisk in the Table of Contents, were written first for an +eager listener of nine years old. But as the book has grown longer the +age of its readers has grown older for two reasons: + +_First:_ because it was necessary to take for granted some knowledge +of the course of English History at the period of the Civil Wars. To +have re-told the story of the contest between King and Parliament, +leading up to the execution of Charles the First and the Protectorate +of Oliver Cromwell, would have taken up much of the fresh, undivided +attention that I was anxious to focus upon the lives and doings of +these 'Quaker Saints.' I have therefore presupposed a certain +familiarity with the chief actors and parties, and an understanding of +such names as Cavalier, Roundhead, Presbyterian, Independent, etc.; +but I have tried to explain any obsolete words, or those of which the +meaning has altered in the two and a half centuries that have elapsed +since the great struggle. + +_Secondly_: because the stories of the persecutions of the Early +Friends are too harrowing for younger children. Even a very much +softened and milder version was met with the repeated request: 'Do, +please, skip this part and make it come happy quickly.' I have +preferred, therefore, to write for older boys and girls who will wish +for a true account of suffering bravely borne; though without undue +insistence on the physical side. For to tell the stories of these +lives without the terrible, glorious account of the cruel beatings, +imprisonments, and even martyrdom in which they often ended here, is +not truly to tell them at all. The tragic darkness in the picture is +necessary to enhance its high lights. + +My youngest critic observes that 'it does not matter so much what +happens to grown-up people, because I can always skip that bit; but if +anything bad is going to happen to children, you had better leave it +out of your book altogether.' I have therefore obediently omitted the +actual sufferings of children as far as possible, except in one or two +stories where they are an essential part of the narrative. + +It must be remembered that this is not a History of the Early Quaker +Movement, but a book of stories of some Early Quaker Saints. I have +based my account on contemporary authorities; but I have not scrupled +to supply unrecorded details or explanatory speeches in order to make +the scene more vivid to my listeners. In two stories of George Fox's +youth, as authentic records are scanty, I have even ventured to look +through the eyes of imaginary spectators at 'The Shepherd of Pendle +Hill' and 'The Angel of Beverley.' But the deeper I have dug down into +the past, the less need there has been to fill in outlines; and the +more possible it has been to keep closely to the actual words of +George Fox's Journal, and other contemporary documents. The historical +notes at the end of the book will indicate where the original +authorities for each story are to be found, and they will show what +liberties have been taken. The quotations that precede the different +chapters are intended mainly for older readers, and to illustrate +either the central thought or the history of the times. + +Many stories of other Quaker Saints that should have been included in +this book have had to be omitted for want of room. The records of +William Penn and his companions and friends on both sides of the +Atlantic will, it is hoped, eventually find a place in a later volume. +The stories in the present book have been selected to show how the +Truth of the Inward Light first dawned gradually on one soul, and then +spread rapidly, in ever-widening circles, through a neighbourhood, a +kingdom, and, finally, all over the world. + +I have to thank many kind friends who have helped me in this +delightful task. _The Book of Quaker Saints_ owes its existence to my +friend Ernest E. Taylor, who first suggested the title and plan, and +then, gently but inexorably, persuaded me to write it. Several of the +stories and many of the descriptions are due to his intimate knowledge +of the lives and homes of the Early Friends; he has, moreover, been my +unfailing adviser and helper at every stage of the work. + +No one can study this period of Quaker history without being +constantly indebted to William Charles Braithwaite, the author of +_Beginnings of Quakerism_, and to Norman Penney, the Librarian at +Devonshire House, and Editor of the Cambridge Edition of George Fox's +Journal with its invaluable notes. But beyond this I owe a personal +debt of gratitude to these two Friends, for much wise counsel as to +sources, for their kindness in reading my MS. and my proofs, and for +the many errors that their accurate scholarship has helped me to +avoid, or enabled me to detect. + +To Ethel Crawshaw, Assistant at the same Library; to my sister, Ellen +S. Bosanquet; and to several other friends who have helped me in +various ways, my grateful thanks are also due. + +The stories are intended in the first place for Quaker children, and +are written throughout from a Quaker standpoint, though with the wish +to be as fair as possible not only to our staunch forefathers, but +also to their doughty antagonists. Even when describing the fiercest +encounters between them, I have tried to write nothing that might +perplex or pain other than Quaker listeners; above all, to be ever +mindful of what George Fox himself calls 'the hidden unity in the +Eternal Being.' + + L. V. HODGKIN. + +_29th July 1917._ + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PREFACE _page_ vii + +* A TALK ABOUT SAINTS 1 + +* I. 'STIFF AS A TREE, PURE AS A BELL' 19 + +* II. 'PURE FOY, MA JOYE' 33 + +* III. THE ANGEL OF BEVERLEY 57 + +* IV. TAMING THE TIGER 79 + +* V. 'THE MAN IN LEATHER BREECHES' 97 + + VI. THE SHEPHERD OF PENDLE HILL 111 + + VII. THE PEOPLE IN WHITE RAIMENT 121 + + VIII. A WONDERFUL FORTNIGHT 131 + + IX. UNDER THE YEW-TREES 149 + + X. 'BEWITCHED!' 163 + + XI. THE JUDGE'S RETURN 175 + +* XII. 'STRIKE AGAIN!' 185 + +* XIII. MAGNANIMITY 197 + +* XIV. MILES HALHEAD AND THE HAUGHTY LADY 209 + + XV. SCATTERING THE SEED 223 + + XVI. WRESTLING FOR GOD 239 + + XVII. LITTLE JAMES AND HIS JOURNEYS 255 + + XVIII. THE FIRST QUAKER MARTYR 271 + +* XIX. THE CHILDREN OF READING MEETING 285 + +* XX. THE SADDEST STORY OF ALL 301 + +* XXI. PALE WINDFLOWERS 321 + + XXII. AN UNDISTURBED MEETING 343 + + XXIII. BUTTERFLIES IN THE FELLS 353 + + XXIV. THE VICTORY OF AMOR STODDART 367 + +* XXV. THE MARVELLOUS VOYAGE OF THE GOOD SHIP 'WOODHOUSE' 379 + +* XXVI. RICHARD SELLAR AND THE 'MERCIFUL MAN' 403 + +* XXVII. TWO ROBBER STORIES--WEST AND EAST 427 + + XXVIII. SILVER SLIPPERS: OR A QUAKERESS AMONG THE TURKS 441 + +* XXIX. FIERCE FEATHERS 465 + +* XXX. THE THIEF IN THE TANYARD 479 + + XXXI. HOW A FRENCH NOBLE BECAME A FRIEND 489 + + XXXII. PREACHING TO NOBODY 509 + + COME-TO-GOOD 523 + + HISTORICAL NOTES 539 + +_Note._--An Asterisk denotes stories suitable for younger children. + + + + + LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + _reproduced from water-colour drawings by_ + F. CAYLEY-ROBINSON + + + I. LOIS AND HER NURSE _Frontispiece_ + + II. THE BOYHOOD OF GEORGE FOX _page_ 36 + +III. 'DREAMING OF THE COT IN THE VALE' 114 + + IV. 'THE VOICE OF THE SILENCE' 306 + + V. PALE WINDFLOWERS 324 + + VI. FIERCE FEATHERS 474 + +VII. A FRIENDS' MEETING 534 + + + + +A TALK ABOUT SAINTS + + + + + _'What are these that glow from afar,_ + _These that lean over the golden bar,_ + _Strong as the lion, pure as the dove,_ + _With open arms and hearts of love?_ + _They the blessed ones gone before,_ + _They the blessed for evermore._ + _Out of great tribulation they went_ + _Home to their home of Heaven-content;_ + _Through flood or blood or furnace-fire,_ + _To the rest that fulfils desire.'_ + + _CHRISTINA ROSSETTI._ + + + _St. Patrick's three orders of + Saints: 'a glory on the mountain + tops: a gleam on the sides of the + hills: a few faint lights in the + valleys.'_ + + + _'The Lord is King in His Saints, + He guards them, and guides them + with His mighty power, into His + kingdom of glory and eternal rest, + where they find joy, and peace, + and rest eternal.'--GEORGE FOX._ + + + + +A TALK ABOUT SAINTS + + +_'What is a Saint? How I do wish I knew!'_ + +_A little girl asked herself this question a great many years ago, as +she sat looking up at a patch of sunset cloud that went sailing past +the bars of her nursery window late one Sunday afternoon; but the +window was small and high up, and the cloud sailed by quickly._ + +_As she watched it go, little Lois wished that she was back in her own +nursery at home, where the windows were large and low down, and so +near the floor that even a small girl could see out of them easily. +Moreover, her own windows had wide window-sills that she could sit on, +with toy-cupboards underneath._ + +_There were no toy-cupboards in this old-fashioned nursery, where Lois +was visiting, and not many toys either. There was a doll's house, that +her mother used to play with when she was a little girl; but the dolls +in it were all made of wood and looked stiff and stern, and one +hundred years older than the dolls of to-day, or than the children +either, for that matter. Besides, the doll's house might not be opened +on Sundays._ + +_So Lois turned again to the window, and looking up at it, she wished, +as she had wished many times before on this visit, that it was rather +lower down and much larger, and that the window ledge was a little +wider, so that she could lean upon it and see where that rosy cloud +had gone._ + +_She ran for a chair, and climbed up, hoping to be able to see out +better. Alas! the window was a long way from the ground outside. She +still could not look out and see what was happening in the garden +below. Even the sun had sunk too far down for her to say good-night to +it before it set. But that did not matter, for the rosy cloud had +apparently gone to fetch innumerable other rosy cloudlets, and they +were all holding hands and dancing across the sky in a wide band, with +pale, clear pools of green and blue behind them._ + +_'What lovely rainbow colours!' thought the little girl. And then the +rainbow colours reminded her of the question that had been puzzling +her when she began to watch the rosy cloud. So she repeated, out loud +this time and in rather a weary voice, 'Whatever is a Saint? How I do +wish I knew! And why are there no Saints on the windows in Meeting?'_ + +_No answer came to her questions. Lois and her nurse were paying a +visit all by themselves. They spent most of their days up in this old +nursery at the top of the big house. Nurse had gone downstairs a long +time ago, saying that she would bring up tea for them both on a +tea-tray, before it was time to light the lamps. For there was no gas +or electric light in children's nurseries in those days._ + +_If Lois had been at home she would herself have been having tea +downstairs in the dining-room at this time with her father and mother. +Then she could have asked them what a Saint was, and have found out +all about it at once. Father and mother always seemed to know the +answers to her questions. At least, very nearly always. For Lois was +so fond of asking questions, that sometimes she asked some that had no +answer; but those were silly questions, not like this one. Lois felt +certain that either her father or her mother would have explained to +her quite clearly all about Saints, and would have wanted her to +understand about them. Away here there was nobody to ask. Nurse would +only say, 'If you ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies.' Somehow +whenever she said that, Lois fancied it meant that nurse was not very +sure of the answer herself. She had already asked Aunt Isabel in +church that same morning, when the puzzle began; and Aunt Isabel's +answer about 'a halo' had left the little girl more perplexed than +ever._ + +_Lois had heard of people 'going to church' before, but she had never +understood what it meant until to-day. At home on Sundays she went to +Meeting with father and mother. She liked walking there, in between +them, holding a hand of each, skipping and jumping in order not to +step on the black lines of the pavement. She liked to see the shops +with their eyes all shut tight for Sunday, and to watch for the +naughty shops, here and there, who kept a corner of their blinds up, +just to show a few toys or goodies underneath. Lois always thought +that those shops looked as if they were winking up at her; and she +smiled back at them a rather reproving little smile. She enjoyed the +walk and was sorry when it came to an end. For, to tell the truth, she +did not enjoy the Meeting that followed it at all._ + +_Long before the hour was over she used to grow very tired of the +silence and of the quiet room, tired of kicking her blue footstool +(gently of course, but still kicking it) and of counting her boot +buttons up and down, or else watching the hands of the clock move +slowly round its big calm face. 'Church' was a more interesting place +than Meeting, certainly; but then 'Church' had disadvantages of its +own. Everything there was strange to Lois. It had almost frightened +her, this first time. She did not know when she ought to stand up, or +when she ought to kneel, and when she might sit down. Then, when the +organ played and everybody stood up and sang a hymn, Lois found to her +surprise that her throat was beginning to feel tight and choky. For +some reason she began to wonder if father and mother were sitting in +Meeting alone, and if they had quite forgotten their little girl. Two +small tears gathered. In another minute they might have slipped out of +the corners of her eyes, and have run down her cheeks. They might even +have fallen upon the page of the hymn-book she was carefully holding +upside down. And that would have been dreadful!_ + +_Happily, just in time, she looked up and saw something so beautiful +above her that the two tears ran back to wherever it was they came +from, in less time than it takes to tell._ + +_For there, above her head, was a tall, pointed, glass window, high up +on the wall. The glass in the window was of wonderful colours, like a +rainbow:--deep purple and blue, shining gold, rich, soft red, and +glowing crimson, with here and there a green that twinkled like young +beech-leaves in the woods in spring. Best of all, there was one bit of +purest white, with sunlight streaming through it, that shone like +dazzling snow. At first Lois only noticed the colours, and the ugly +black lines that separated them. She wondered why the beautiful glass +was divided up into such queer shapes. There are no black lines +between the colours in a real rainbow._ + +_Gradually, however, she discovered that all the different colours +meant something, that they were all part of a picture on the window, +that a tall figure was standing there, looking down upon her--upon +her, fidgety little Lois, kicking her scarlet hassock in the pew. But +Lois was not kicking her hassock any longer. She was looking up into +the grave, kind face above her on the window. 'Whoever was it? Who +could it be? Was it a man or a woman? A man,' Lois thought at first, +until she saw that he was wearing a robe that fell into glowing folds +at his feet. 'Men never wear robes, do they? unless they are +dressing-gowns. This certainly was not a dressing-gown. And what was +the flat thing like a plate behind his head?' Lois had never seen +either a man or a woman wear anything like that before. 'If it was a +plate, how could it be fastened on? It would be sure to fall off and +break....'_ + +_The busy little mind had so much to wonder about, that Lois found it +easy to sit still, until the sermon was over, as she watched the +sunlight pour through the different colours in turn, making each one +more beautiful and full of light as it passed._ + +_At length the organ stopped, and the last long 'AH-MEN' had been +sung. 'Church sings "AH-MEN" out loud, and Meeting says "Amen" quite +gently; p'raps that's what makes the difference between them,' Lois +thought to herself wisely. As soon as the last notes of music had died +away, she nestled close to Aunt Isabel's side and said in an eager +voice, 'What is that lovely window up there? Who is that beautiful +person? I do like his face. And is it a He or a She?'_ + +_'Hush, darling!' her aunt whispered. 'Speak lower. That is a Saint, +of course.'_ + +_'But what is a Saint and how do you know it is one?' the little girl +whispered earnestly, pointing upwards to the tall figure through which +the sunshine streamed. Aunt Isabel was busy collecting her books and +she only whispered back, 'Don't you see the halo?' 'I don't know what +a halo can be, but a Saint is a kind of glass window, I suppose,' +thought Lois, as she followed her aunt down the aisle. Afterwards on +her way home, and at dinner, and all the afternoon, there had been so +many other things to see and to think about, that it was not until the +rosy patch of cloud sailed past the nursery window-pane at sunset that +she was reminded of the beautiful colours in church, and of the puzzle +about Saints and haloes that till then she had forgotten._ + +_'At least, no, I didn't exactly forget', she said to herself, 'but I +think p'raps I sort of disremembered--till the sunset colours reminded +me. Only I haven't found out what a Saint is yet, or a halo. And why +don't we have them on our Sunday windows in Meeting?'_ + +_Just at that moment the door opened, and nurse, who had been enjoying +a long talk downstairs in the kitchen, came in with the tea-tray. 'How +dark you are up here!' nurse exclaimed in her cheerful voice. 'We +shall have to light the lamp after all, or you will never find the way +to your mouth.'_ + +_So the lamp was lighted. The curtains were drawn. The sunset sky, +fast fading now, was hidden. And Lois' questions remained unanswered._ + + * * * * * + +_A few days later, the visit came to an end. The next Sunday, Lois was +at home again, 'chattering like a little magpie,' as her mother said, +about everything she had seen and done. She had so much to think +about, that even Meeting did not seem as long as usual, though she +thought the walls looked plainer than ever, and the glass windows very +empty, till the sight of them reminded her that she could find out +more about Saints now. At home in the afternoon she began. Drawing her +footstool close to the big arm-chair, she put her elbows on her +father's knee and looked up searchingly into his face. 'Father, please +tell me, if you possibly can,' pleaded an earnest little voice, 'for I +do very badly want to find out. Do you know what a Saint is?' Her +father laughed. 'Know what a Saint is? I should think I did! No man +better!' he answered. Lois wondered why he glanced across to the other +side of the fire where her mother was sitting; and why she glanced +back at him and shook her head, meeting his eyes with a happy smile. +Then her father jumped up, and from the lowest shelf of one of his +book-cases he fetched a fat, square volume, bound in brown leather and +gold. This he put carefully on a table, and drawing Lois on to his +knee and putting his arm round her, he showed her a number of +photographs. Lambs were there, and running fountains, and spangly +stars, and peacocks, and doves. But those pages he turned over +quickly, until he came to others: photographs of men and women dressed +in white, carrying palms and holding crowns in their hands._ + +_He told Lois that these people were 'Saints,' that they formed a long +procession on the walls of a big church at Ravenna, far away in Italy; +and that they were made of little pieces of a sort of shining glass +called 'mosaic.' 'Saints have something to do with glass then. But +these photographs are not a bit like my beautiful window,' Lois +thought to herself, rather sadly. 'There are no colours here.' She +turned over the photographs without much interest, until her father, +exclaiming, 'There, that is the one I want!' showed her one portrait +of a little girl standing among all the grown-up people, carrying just +as big a palm and crown as any of the others. He told Lois that these +crowns and palms were to show that the people who carried them had all +been put to death or 'martyred,' because they would not worship +heathen gods. He made Lois spell out the letters 'SCA. EULALIA' +written on the halo around the little girl's head, 'That is Saint +Eulalia,' her father explained. 'She was offered her freedom and her +life if she would sacrifice to idols just one tiny grain of corn, to +show that she renounced her allegiance to Jesus Christ; but when the +corn was put into her hands she threw it all back into the Judge's +face. After that, there was no escape for her. She was condemned to +die, and she did die, Lois, very bravely, though she was only a little +girl, not much older than you.' Here Lois hid her face against her +father's coat and shivered. 'But after that cruel death, when her +little body was lying unburied, a white dove hovered over it, until a +fall of snowflakes came and hid it from people's sight. So you see, +Lois, though Eulalia was only twelve years old when she was put to +death, she has been called Saint Eulalia ever since, though it all +happened hundreds of years ago. Children can be Saints as well as +grown-up people, if they are brave enough and faithful enough.'_ + +_'Saints must be brave, and Saints must be faithful,' Lois repeated, +as she shut up the big book and helped to carry it back to its shelf. +'But lots of other children have died since Sancta Eulalia was killed +and her body was covered by the snow. Surely some of those children +must have been brave and faithful too, even though they are not called +Saints? They don't stand on glass windows, or wear those things that +father calls haloes, and that I call plates, round their heads, with +their names written on them. So Saints really are rather puzzling sort +of people still. I do hope I shall find out more about them some +day.'_ + +_Thus Lois went on wondering, till, gradually, she came to find out +more of the things that make a Saint--not purple robes, or shining +garments, or haloes; not even crowns and palms; but other things, +quite different, and much more difficult to get._ + + * * * * * + +_'It is enough to vex a Saint!' her kind nurse exclaimed when Lois +spilled her jam at tea, all down her clean white frock. Or, on other +days, 'Oh dear! my patiences is not so good as they once were!' and, +'These rheumatics would try the patience of a Saint!' nurse would say, +with a weary sigh._ + +_'Then the reason my Nanny isn't a Saint is because she gets vexed +when I'm naughty, and because she isn't patient when she has a pain,' +reasoned Lois. 'What a number of things it does seem to take to make a +Saint! But then it takes eggs and milk and butter and sugar and flour +and currants and raisins too to make a cake. Saints must be brave_ and +_faithful; never get vexed; have patience always. Mother said patience +was the beginning of everything, when I stamped my foot because I +broke my cotton. Do Saints have to begin with patience too? If only I +could see a real live one with my own eyes and find out!'_ + +_Yet, strange to say, when Lois was told that she was looking at a +'real live Saint' at last, the little girl did not even wish to +believe it. This happened one Saturday afternoon. She was walking with +her governess to a beautiful wooded Dene, through which a clear stream +hurried to join the big black river that flowed past the windows of +Lois' home. On the way to the Dene they passed near a broad marsh with +stepping-stones across it. Close to the river Lois saw, in the +distance, the roofs of some wretched-looking cottages. Evidently on +her way to these cottages, balancing herself on the slippery +stepping-stones, was a little old lady in a hideous black bonnet with +jet ornaments that waggled as she moved, and shiny black gloves +screwed up into tight corkscrews at the finger ends. She carried a +large basket in one hand, and held up her skirts with the other, +showing that she wore boots with elastic sides, which Lois +particularly disliked._ + +_'Look there!' her governess said to Lois, 'actually crossing the +marsh to visit that den of fever! Old Miss S ... may not be a beauty, +but she certainly is a perfect Saint!'_ + +_'Oh no, she's not!' cried Lois with much vehemence. 'At least, I mean +I hope she isn't,' she added the next minute. 'You see,' she went on +apologetically, 'I have a very special reason for being interested in +Saints; I don't at all want any of my Saints to look ugly like that. +And, what is more, I don't believe they do!'_ + + * * * * * + +_Many months passed before the time came, when she was least expecting +it, that Lois saw, she actually did see, a 'real live Saint' for +herself._ + +_How did she know it was a Saint? Lois could not tell how she knew; +but from the very first moment that she found herself looking up into +one of the kindest, most loving faces that she had ever seen, she was +perfectly sure that she had found a Saint at last. She saw no halo--at +least no golden halo; but the white hair that tenderly framed the +white face looked almost like a halo of silver, the little girl +thought. It was not a beautiful face; at any rate not what Lois would +have called beautiful beforehand. It had many wrinkles though the skin +was fresh and clear. The eyes looked, somehow, as if they had shed so +many tears long ago, that now there were no tears left to shed; +nothing remained but smiles. Perhaps that was the reason they were +nearly always smiling. As Lois looked up and saw that gentle old face +bending over her, it gave her the same sort of mysterious feeling that +she had when she gazed up into the cloudless blue sky at noonday, or +into a night sky full of stars. She seemed to be looking up, as high +as ever she could, into something infinitely far above her; and yet to +be looking down into something as well, deep down into an endless +depth. Or rather, she felt that she was neither looking up nor down, +but that she was looking_ through.... + +_'Why, Saints are a sort of window after all,' Lois said to herself, +as she gave a jump of joy,--'real windows! Only not the glass kind! I +have found out at last what makes a Saint, and what real live Saints +look like. It is not being killed only; though I suppose they must +always be ready to be killed. It is not being made of all the +difficult things inside only; though, of course, they must always be +full of them. It certainly isn't wearing ugly clothes or anything +horrid. I know now what really and truly, and most especially, makes a +Saint, and that is_ + + LETTING THE SUNLIGHT THROUGH!' + +_So Lois had found out something for herself at last, had she not? +Those are always the best sort of discoveries; but there are a great +many more things to find out about Saints that Lois never thought of, +in those days long ago. Most interesting things they are! That is one +comfort about Saints--they are always interesting, never dull. Dull is +the one thing that real Saints can never be, or they would stop being +Saints that very minute. Even when Saints are doing the dullest, +dreariest, most difficult tasks, they themselves are always packed +full of sunshine inside that cannot help streaming out over the dull +part and making it interesting._ + +_This is one thing to remember about Saints; but there are many other +things to discover. See if you can find out some of them in the +stories that follow._ + +_Only a few Saint stories are written here. You will read for +yourself, by and by, many others: stories of older Saints, and perhaps +of brighter Saints, or it may be even of saintlier Saints than these. +But in this book are written the stories of some of the Saints who did +not know that they were Saints at all: they thought that they were +just quite ordinary men and women and little children, and that makes +them rather specially comforting to us, who are just quite ordinary +people too._ + +_Moreover, these Quaker Saints never have been, never will be put on +glass windows, or given birthdays or haloes or emblems of their own, +like most of the other Saints. They have never even had their stories +told before in a way that it is easy for children to understand._ + +_That is why these particular stories have been written now, in this +particular book_ + + FOR YOU. + + + + +I. 'STIFF AS A TREE, PURE AS A BELL' + + + + + _'I am plenteuous in ioie in all + oure tribulacione.'--ST. PAUL + (Wiclif's Translation)._ + + + _'Stand firm like a smitten anvil + under the blows of a hammer; be + strong as an athlete of God, it is + part of a great athlete to receive + blows and to conquer.'--IGNATIUS._ + + + _'He was valiant for the truth, + bold in asserting it, patient in + suffering for it, unwearied in + labouring in it, steady in his + testimony to it, immoveable as a + rock.'--T. ELLWOOD about G. FOX._ + + + _'George Fox never lost his + temper--he left that to his + opponents: and he had the most + exasperating way of getting the + best of an argument. His Journal + ... is like a little rusty gate + which opens right into the heart + of the 17th Century, so that when + we go in by it--hey presto! we + find ourselves pilgrims with the + old Quaker in the strangest kind + of England.'--L.M. MACKAY._ + + + _'And there was never any + persecution that came but we saw + it was for good, and we looked + upon it to be good as from GOD. + And there was never any prisons or + sufferings that I was in, but + still it was for bringing + multitudes more out of + prison.'--G. FOX._ + + + + +I. 'STIFF AS A TREE, PURE AS A BELL' + + +When the days are lengthening in the spring, even though the worst of +the winter may be over, there is often a sharp tooth in the March wind +as it sweeps over the angry sea and bites into the north-eastern coast +of England. + +Children, warm and snug in cosy rooms, like to watch the gale and the +damage it does as it hurries past. It amuses them to see the wind at +its tricks, ruffling up the manes of the white horses far out at sea, +blowing the ships away from their moorings in the harbour, and playing +tricks upon the passers-by, when it comes ashore. Off fly stout old +gentlemen's hats, round like windmills go the smart ladies' skirts and +ribbons; even the milkman's fingers turn blue with cold. It is all +very well for children, safe indoors, to laugh at the antics of the +mischievous wind, even on the bleak north-eastern coast nowadays; but +in times long ago, that same wind could be a more cruel playfellow +still. Come back with me for two hundred and fifty years. Let us watch +the tricks the wind is playing on the prisoners in the castle high up +on Scarborough cliff in the year of our Lord 1666. + +Though the keen, cutting blast is the same, a very different +Scarborough lies around us from the Scarborough modern children know. +There is a much smaller town close down by the water's edge, and a +much larger castle covering nearly the whole of the cliff. + +Nowadays, when children go to Scarborough for their holidays in the +summer, as they run down the steep paths with their spades and buckets +to dig on the beach, they are too busy to pay much attention to the +high cliff that juts out against the sky above the steep red roofs of +the old town. But if they do look up for a moment they notice a pile +of grey stones at the very top of the hill. 'Oh, that is the old +ruined castle,' they say to themselves; and then they forget all about +it and devote themselves to the important task of digging a new castle +of their own that shall not crumble into ruins in its turn, as even +sand castles have an uncomfortable way of doing, if they are +unskilfully made. + +Those children are only modern children. They have not gone back, as +you and I are trying to do, two hundred and fifty long years up the +stream of time. If we are really to find out what Scarborough looked +like then, we must put on our thinking caps and flap our fancy wings, +and, shutting our eyes very tight, not open them again until that +long-ago Scarborough is really clear before us. Then, looking up at +the castle, what shall we see? The same hill of course, but so covered +with stately buildings that we can barely make out its outline. +Instead of one old pile of crumbling stones, roofless, doorless, +windowless, there is a massive fortress towering over us, ringed round +with walls and guarded with battlements and turrets. High above all +stands the frowning Norman Keep, of which only some of the thick outer +stones remain to-day. Scarborough Castle was a grand place, and a +strong place too, in the seventeenth century. + +In order to reach it, then as now, it was necessary to climb the long +flights of stone steps that stretch up from the lower town near the +water's edge to the high, arched gateway upon the Castle Hill. We will +climb those steps, only of course the stones were newer and cleaner +then, and less worn by generations of climbing feet. Up them we mount +till we reach the gateway with its threatening portcullis, where the +soldiers of King Charles the Second, in their jackboots, are walking +up and down on guard, determined to keep out all intruders. Intruders +we certainly are, seeing that we belong to another generation and +another century. There is no entrance at that gateway for us. Yet +except through that gateway there is no way into the castle, and all +the windows on this side are high up in the walls, and barred and +filled with strong thick glass. + +Now let us go round to the far side of the cliff where the castle +overlooks the sea. Here the fortress still frowns above us; but lower +down, nearer our level, we can see some holes and caves scooped out of +the solid rock, through which the wind blows and shrieks eerily. As +these caves can only be reached by going through the castle, some of +the prisoners are kept here for safety. The windows have no glass. +They are merely holes in the rock, open to fog and snow and bitter +wind. Another hole in the cliff does duty for a chimney after a +fashion, but even if the prisoners are allowed to light a fire they +are scarcely any warmer, for the whole cave becomes filled with smoke. +And now we must flap our fancy wings still more vigorously, until +somehow we stand outside one of those prison holes, scooped out of the +cliff, and can look down and see what is to be seen inside it. + +There is only one man in this particular prison cave, and what is he +doing? Is he moving about to keep himself warm? At first he seems to +be, for he walks from side to side without a moment's rest. Every now +and then he stretches his arm out of the window, apparently throwing +something away. He is certainly ill. His body and legs are badly +swollen, and there are great lumps in the places where his joints and +knuckles ought to be. Well then, if he is ill, why does he not lie +still in bed and rest and get well? For even in this wretched +cave-room there is something that looks like a bed in one corner. It +has no white sheets or soft blankets, but still it has four legs and a +sort of coverlet, and at least the prisoner could rest upon it, which +would be better for him than dancing about. Look again! The bed stands +under a gaping hole in the roof, and a stream of water is dripping +steadily down upon it. The coarse coverings must be soaked through +already, and the hard mattress too. It is really less like a bed than +a damp and nasty little pond. No wonder the prisoner does not choose +to lie there. But then, why not move the bed somewhere else? And what +is that round thing like a platter in his hand, and what is he doing +with it? Is he playing 'Turn the Trencher' to keep himself warm? + +Look again! How could he move the bed? He is in a tiny cave, and all +its walls are leaky. The bed must stand in that particular corner +because there is nowhere else that it could be placed. Now look down +at the floor. Notice how uneven it is, and the big pools of water +standing on it, and then you will understand what the prisoner is +doing. Indeed he is not playing 'Turn the Trencher'; he is trying to +scoop up some of the water in that shallow platter, because he has +nothing else in the room that will hold it. If he can do this fast +enough, and can manage to pour enough of the water away out of one of +the holes in the walls, he may be able to keep himself from being +flooded out, and thus he may preserve one little dry patch of floor, +dry enough for his swollen feet to stand on, till the storm is over. +But it is like trying to bale water out of a very leaky boat; for +always faster than he can scoop it up and pour it away, more rain +comes pouring in steadily, dripping and drenching. The wind shrieks +and whistles and the prisoner is numb with cold. + +What a wicked man he must be, to be punished by being put in this +dreadful place! Certainly, if he has committed some dreadful crime, he +has found a terrible punishment. But does he look wicked? See, at last +he is too stiff and weary to move about any longer. In spite of the +rain and the wind he sinks down exhausted upon a rickety chair and +draws it to the spot where there is the best chance of a little +shelter. There he sits in silence for some time. He is soaked to the +skin, as well as tired and stiff and hungry. There is a small mug by +the door, but it is empty and there is not a sign of food. Some bitter +water to drink and a small piece of bread are all the food he has had +to-day, and that is all gone now, for it was so very little. In this +place a small threepenny loaf of bread has sometimes to last for three +weeks. This poor man must be utterly miserable and wretched. But is +he? Let us watch him. + +Do you think he can be a wicked man after all? Is not the prisoner +being punished through some dreadful mistake? He looks kind and good, +and, stranger still, he looks happy, even through all his sufferings +in this horrible prison. His face has a sort of brightness in it, like +the mysterious light there is sometimes to be seen in a dark sky, +behind a thunderstorm. A radiance is about him too as if, in spite of +all he is enduring, he has some big joy that shines through everything +and makes it seem worth while. + +He is actually 'letting the sunlight through,' even in this dismal +place. Any one who can do that must be a very real and a very big +saint indeed. We must just find out all that we can about him. Let us +take a good look at him now, while we have the chance. Then we shall +know him another time, when we meet him again, having all sorts of +adventures in all sorts of places. It is impossible to see his eyes, +as he sits by the bed, for they are downcast, but we can see that he +has a long, nearly straight nose, and lips tightly pressed together. +His hair is parted and hangs down on each side of his head, stiff and +lank now, owing to the wet, but in happier days it must have hung in +little curls round his neck, just below his ears. He is a tall man, +with a big strong-looking body. In spite of the coarse clothes he +wears, there is a strange dignity about him. You feel something +drawing you to him, making you want to know more about him. + +You feel somehow as if you were in the presence of some one who is +very big, and that you yourself are very small, smaller perhaps than +you ever felt in your life. Yet you feel ready to do anything for him, +and, at the same time, you believe that, if only you could make him +know that you are there, he would be ready to do anything for you. +Even in this wretched den he carries himself with an air of authority, +as if he were accustomed to command. Now, at last he is looking up; +and we can see his eyes. Most wonderful eyes they are! Eyes that look +as if they could pierce through all sorts of disguises, and read the +deepest secrets of a man's heart. They are kind eyes too; and look as +if they could be extraordinarily tender at times. They are something +like a shepherd's eyes, as if they were accustomed to gazing out far +and wide in search of strayed sheep and lost lambs. Yet they are also +like the eyes of a Judge; thoroughly well able to distinguish right +from wrong. It would be terrible to meet those eyes after doing +anything the least bit crooked or shabby or untrue. They look as if +they would know at the first glance just how much excuses were worth; +and what was the truth. No wonder that once, when those eyes fell on a +man who was arguing on the wrong side, he felt ashamed all of a sudden +and cried out in terror: 'Do not pierce me so with thine eyes! Keep +thine eyes off me!' Another time when this same prisoner was reasoning +with a crowd of people, who did not agree with him, they all cried out +with one accord: 'Look at his eyes, look at his eyes!' And yet another +time when he was riding through an angry mob, in a city where men were +ready to take his life, they dared not touch him. 'Oh, oh,' they +cried, 'see, he shines! he glisters!' + +Then what happened next? We do not want to look at the prisoner in +fancy any longer. We want really to know about him: to hear the +beginnings and endings of those stories and of many others. And that +is exactly what we are going to do. The prisoner is going to tell us +his own true story in his own real words. There is no need for our +fancy wings any longer. They may shrivel up and drop off unheeded. For +that prisoner is GEORGE FOX, and he belongs to English history. He has +left the whole story of his life and adventures written in two large +folio volumes that may still be seen in London. The pages are so old +and the edges have worn so thin in the two hundred and fifty years +since they were written, that each page has had to be most carefully +framed in strong paper to keep it from getting torn. The ink is faded +and brown, and the writing is often crabbed and difficult to read. But +it can be read, and it is full of stories. In olden times, probably, +the book was bound in a brown leather cover, but now, because it is +very old and valuable, it has been clothed with beautiful red leather, +on which is stamped in gold letters, the title: + + GEORGE FOX'S JOURNAL. + +Now let us open it at the right place, and, before any of the other +stories, let us hear what the writer says about that dismal prison in +Scarborough Castle: how long he stayed there, and how he was at last +set free. + +'One day the governor of Scarborough castle, Sir Jordan Crosland, came +to see me. I desired the governor to go into my room and see what a +place I had. I had got a little fire made in it, and it was so filled +with smoke that when they were in it they could hardly find their way +out again.... I told him I was forced to lay out about fifty +shillings to stop out the rain, and keep the room from smoking so +much. When I had been at that charge and had made it somewhat +tolerable, they removed me into a worse room, where I had neither +chimney nor fire hearth.' + +(This last is the room in the castle cliff that is still called +'George Fox's prison,' where we have been standing in imagination and +looking in upon him. We will listen while he describes it again, so as +to get accustomed to his rather old-fashioned English.) + +'This being to the sea-side and lying much open, the wind drove in the +rain forcibly, so that the water came over my bed, and ran about the +room, that I was fain to skim it up with a platter. And when my +clothes were wet, I had no fire to dry them; so that my body was +benumbed with cold, and my fingers swelled, that one was grown as big +as two. Though I was at some charge in this room also, yet I could not +keep out the wind and rain.... Afterwards I hired a soldier to fetch +me water and bread, and something to make a fire of, when I was in a +room where a fire could be made. Commonly a threepenny loaf served me +three weeks, and sometimes longer, and most of my drink was water, +with wormwood steeped or bruised in it.... As to friends I was as a +man buried alive, for though many came far to see me, yet few were +suffered to come to me.... The officers often threatened that I should +be hanged over the wall. Nay, the deputy governor told me once, that +the King, knowing that I had a great interest in the people, had sent +me thither, that if there should be any stirring in the nation, they +should hang me over the wall to keep the people down. A while after +they talked much of hanging me. But I told them that if that was what +they desired and it was permitted them, I was ready; for I never +feared death nor sufferings in my life, but I was known to be an +innocent, peaceable man, free from all stirrings and plottings, and +one that sought the good of all men. Afterwards, the Governor growing +kinder, I spoke to him when he was going to London, and desired him to +speak to Esquire Marsh, Sir Francis Cobb, and some others, and let +them know how long I had lain in prison, and for what, and he did so. +When he came down again, he told me that Esquire Marsh said he would +go a hundred miles barefoot for my liberty, he knew me so well; and +several others, he said, spoke well of me. From which time the +Governor was very loving to me. + +'There were among the prisoners two very bad men, who often sat +drinking with the officers and soldiers; and because I would not sit +and drink with them, it made them the worse against me. One time when +these two prisoners were drunk, one of them (whose name was William +Wilkinson, who had been a captain), came in and challenged me to fight +with him. I seeing what condition he was in, got out of his way; and +next morning, when he was more sober, showed him how unmanly a thing +it was in him to challenge a man to fight, whose principle he knew it +was not to strike; but if he was stricken on one ear to turn the +other. I told him that if he had a mind to fight, he should have +challenged some of the soldiers, that could have answered him in his +own way. But, however, seeing he had challenged me, I was now come to +answer him, with my hands in my pockets: and, reaching my head +towards him, "Here," said I, "here is my hair, here are my cheeks, +here is my back." With that, he skipped away from me and went into +another room, at which the soldiers fell a-laughing; and one of the +officers said, "You are a happy man that can bear such things." Thus +he was conquered without a blow. + +'... After I had lain a prisoner above a year in Scarborough Castle, I +sent a letter to the King, in which I gave him an account of my +imprisonment, and the bad usage I had received in prison; and also I +was informed no man could deliver me but he. After this, John +Whitehead being at London, and being acquainted with Esquire Marsh, +went to visit him, and spoke to him about me; and he undertook, if +John Whitehead would get the state of my case drawn up, to deliver it +to the master of requests, Sir John Birkenhead, and endeavour to get a +release for me. So John Whitehead ... drew up an account of my +imprisonment and sufferings and carried it to Marsh; and he went with +it to the master of requests, who procured an order from the King for +my release. The substance of this order was that the King, being +certainly informed, that I was a man principled against plotting and +fighting, and had been ready at all times to discover plots, rather +than to make any, therefore his royal pleasure was, that I should be +discharged from my imprisonment. As soon as this order was obtained, +John Whitehead came to Scarborough with it and delivered it to the +Governor; who, upon receipt thereof, gathered the officers together, +... and being satisfied that I was a man of peaceable life, he +discharged me freely, and gave me the following passport:-- + +'"Permit the bearer hereof, 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 CROSLAND, Governor +of Scarborough Castle." + +'After I was released, I would have made the Governor a present for +his civility and kindness he had of late showed me; but he would not +receive anything; saying "Whatever good he could for me and my +friends, he would do it, and never do them any hurt." ... He continued +loving unto me unto his dying day. The officers also and the soldiers +were mightily changed, and became very respectful to me; when they had +occasion to speak of me they would say, "HE IS AS STIFF AS A TREE, AND +AS PURE AS A BELL; FOR WE COULD NEVER BOW HIM."' + + + + +II. 'PURE FOY, MA JOYE' + + + + + _'Outwardly there was little + resemblance between George Fox and + Francis of Assisi, between the + young Leicestershire Shepherd of + the XVIIth Century and the young + Italian merchant of the XIIIth, + but they both felt the power of + GOD and yielded themselves wholly + to it: both left father and mother + and home: both defied the opinions + of their time: both won their way + through bitter opposition to solid + success: both cast themselves + "upon the infinite love of GOD": + both were most truly surrendered + souls; but Francis submitted + himself to established authority, + Fox only to the spirit of GOD + speaking in the single soul.'_ + + _'In solitude and silence Fox found + GOD and heard Him. He proclaimed + that the Kingdom of GOD is the + Kingdom of a living Spirit Who + holds converse with His + people.'--BISHOP WESTCOTT._ + + + _'Some place their religion in + books, some in images, some in the + pomp and splendour of external + worship, but some with illuminated + understandings hear what the Holy + Spirit speaketh in their + hearts'--THOMAS A KEMPIS._ + + + _'Lord, when I look upon mine own + life it seems Thou hast led me so + carefully, so tenderly, Thou canst + have attended to none else; but + when I see how wonderfully Thou + hast led the world and art leading + it, I am amazed that Thou hast had + time to attend to such as + I.'--AUGUSTINE._ + + + + +II. 'PURE FOY, MA JOYE' + + +'He is stiff as a tree and pure as a bell, and we could never bow +him.' So spoke the rough soldiers of Scarborough Castle of their +prisoner, George Fox, after he had been set at liberty. A splendid +thing it was for soldiers to say of a prisoner whom they had held +absolutely in their power. But a tree does not grow stiff all at once. +It takes many years for a tiny seedling to grow into a sturdy oak. A +bell has to undergo many processes before it gains its perfect form +and pure ringing note. And a whole lifetime of joys and sorrows had +been needed to develop the 'stiffness' (or steadfastness, as we should +call it now) and purity of character that astonished the soldiers in +their prisoner. There will not be much story in this history of George +Fox's early days, but it is the foundation-stone on which most of the +later stories will be built. + + * * * * * + +It was in July 1624, the last year in which James the First, King of +England, ruled in his palace at Whitehall, that far away in a quiet +Leicestershire village their first baby was born to a weaver and his +wife. They lived in a small cottage with a thatched roof and wooden +shutters, in a village then known as 'Drayton-in-the-Clay,' because of +the desolate waters of the marshlands that lay in winter time close +round the walls of the little hamlet. Even though the fens and marshes +have now long ago been drained and turned into fertile country, the +village is still called 'Fenny Drayton.' The weaver's name was +Christopher Fox. His wife's maiden name had been Mary Lago; and the +name they gave to their first little son was George. + +Mary Lago came 'of the stock of the martyrs': that is to say, either +her parents or her grand-parents had been put to death for their +faith. They had been burnt at the stake, probably, in one of the +persecutions in the reign of Queen Mary. From her 'martyr stock' Mary +Lago must have learned, when she was quite a little girl, to worship +God in purity of faith. Later on, after she had become the mother of +little George, it was no wonder that her baby son sitting on her knee, +looking up into her face, or listening to her stories, learned from +the very beginning to try to be 'Pure as a Bell.' + +Mary Lago's husband, Christopher Fox, did not come 'of the stock of +the martyrs,' but evidently he had inherited from his ancestors plenty +of tough courage and sturdy sense. Almost the only story remembered +about him is that one day he stuck his cane into the ground after +listening to a long dispute and exclaimed: 'Now I see that if a man +will but stick to the truth it will bear him out.' + +When little George grew old enough to scramble down from his mother's +knee and to walk with unsteady steps across the stone-flagged floor of +the cottage, there was his weaver father sitting at his loom, making a +pleasant rhythmic sound that filled the small house with music. As the +boy watched the skilful hands sending the flying shuttle in and out +among the threads, he learned from his father, not only the right way +to weave good reliable stuff, but also how to weave the many coloured +threads of everyday life into a strong character. The village +people called his father 'Righteous Christer,' which shows that he too +must have been 'stiff as a tree' in following what he knew to be +right; for a name like that is not very easily earned where village +eyes are sharp and village tongues are shrewd. + +[Illustration: THE BOYHOOD OF GEORGE FOX] + +Less than a mile from the weaver's cottage stood the Church and the +Manor House side by side. The churchyard had a wall of solid red +bricks, overshadowed by a border of solemn old yew-trees. The Manor +House was encircled by a moat on which graceful white swans swam to +and fro. For centuries the Purefoy family had been Squires of Drayton +village. They had inhabited the Manor House while they were alive, and +had been buried in the churchyard close by after they were dead. The +present Squire was a certain COLONEL GEORGE PUREFOY. It may have been +after him that 'Righteous Christer' called his eldest son George, or +it may have been after that other George, 'Saint George for Merrie +England,' whose image killing the Dragon was to be seen engraved on +each rare golden 'noble' that found its way to the weaver's home. +Christopher and Mary Fox were both of them possessed of more education +than was usual among country people at that time, when reading and +writing were still rare accomplishments. 'Righteous Christer' was an +important man in the small village. Besides being a weaver, he was +also a churchwarden, and was able to sign his own name in bold +characters, as may still be seen to-day in the parish registers, where +his fellow-churchwarden, being unable to read or write, was only able +to sign his name with a cross. Unfortunately this same register, +which ought to record the exact day of July 1624 on which little +George was baptized here in the old church, no longer mentions him, +since, more than a hundred years after his time, the wife of the +Sexton of Fenny Drayton, running short of paper to cover her jam-pots, +must needs lay hands on the valuable Church records and tear out a few +priceless pages just here. So, although several other brothers and +sisters followed George and came to live in the weaver's cottage +during the next few years, we know none of their ages or birthdays, +until we come to the record of the baptism of the youngest sister +Sarah. Happily her page came last of all, after the Sexton's jam was +finished, and thus Sarah's name escaped being made into the lid of a +jam-pot. But we will hope that the weaver and his wife remembered and +kept all their children's birthdays on the right days, even though +they are forgotten now. However that may have been, George's parents +'endeavoured to train him up, as they did their other children, in the +common way of worship--his mother especially being eminent for piety: +but even from a child he was seen to be of another frame of mind from +his brethren, for he was more religious, retired, still and solid, and +was also observing beyond his age. His mother, seeing this +extraordinary temper and godliness, which so early did shine through +him, so that he would not meddle with childish games, carried herself +indulgent towards him.... Meanwhile he learned to read pretty well, +and to write as much as would serve to signify his meaning to others.' + +When he saw older people behaving in a rowdy, frivolous way, it +distressed him, and the little boy used to say to himself: 'If ever I +come to be a man, surely I will not be so wanton.' + +'When I came to eleven years of age,' he says himself in his Journal, +'I knew pureness and righteousness; for while I was a child I was +taught how to walk so as to be kept pure, and to be faithful in two +ways, both inwardly to God, and outwardly to man, and to keep to Yea +and Nay in all things.' + +At that time there was a law obliging everybody to attend Church on +Sundays, and as the services lasted for several hours at a time, the +weaver's children doubtless had time to look about them, and learned +to know the stones of the old church well. When the Squire and his +family were at home they sat in the Purefoy Chapel in the North Aisle. +From this Chapel a door in the wall opened on to a path that led +straight over the drawbridge across the moat to the Manor House. It +must have been interesting for all the village children to watch for +the opening and shutting of that door. But up in the chancel there +was, and still is, something even more interesting: the big tomb that +a certain Mistress Jocosa or Joyce Purefoy had put up to the memory of +her husband, who had died in the days of good Queen Bess. + +'PURE FOY, MA JOYE,' the black letters of the family motto, can still +be read on a marble scroll. If George in his boyhood ever asked his +mother what the French words meant, Mary Fox, who was, we are told, +'accomplished above her degree in the place where she lived,' may have +been able to tell him that they mean, in English, 'Pure faith is my +Joy'; or that, keeping the rhyme, they might be translated as +follows:-- + + 'MY FAITH PURE, MY JOY SURE.' + +Then remembering what had happened in her own family, surely she would +add, 'And I, who come of martyr stock, know that that is true. Even if +you have to suffer for it, my son, even if you have to die for it, +keep your Faith pure, and your Joy will be sure in the end.' + +Then Righteous Christer would take the little lad up on his shoulder +and show him the broken spear above the tomb, the crest of the +Purefoys, and tell him its story. Hundreds of years before, one of the +Squires of this family had defended his liege lord on the battle-field +at the risk of his own life, and even after his weapon, a spear, had +been broken in his hand. His lord, out of gratitude for this, had +given his faithful follower, not only the right to wear the broken +spear in token of his valour ever after as a crest, but also by his +name and by his motto to proclaim to all men the PURE FAITH (PUREFOY) +that had given him this sure and lasting joy. Ever since, for hundreds +of years, the Purefoy family had handed down, by their name, by their +motto, and by the broken spear on their crest, this noble tradition of +loyalty and allegiance--enshrined like a shining jewel in the centre +of the muddy village of Drayton-in-the-Clay. + +This was not the only battle story the boy must have known well. A few +miles from Fenny Drayton is 'the rising ground of Market Bosworth,' +better known as Bosworth Field. As he grew older George loved to +wander over the fields that surrounded his birthplace. He 'must have +often passed the site of Henry's camp, perhaps may have drunk +sometimes at the well at which Richard is said to have quenched his +thirst.' But although his home was near this old battlefield, the boy +grew up in a peaceful England. Probably no one in Fenny Drayton +imagined that in a very few years the smiling English meadows would +once more be drenched in blood. George Fox in his country home was +brought up to follow country pursuits, and was especially skilful in +the management of sheep. He says in his Journal: 'As I grew up, my +relations thought to have made me a priest, but others persuaded to +the contrary. Whereupon I was put to a man who was a shoemaker by +trade, and dealt in wool. He also used grazing and sold cattle; and a +great deal went through my hands. While I was with him he was blest, +but after I left him, he broke and came to nothing. I never wronged +man or woman in all that time.... While I was in that service, I used +in my dealings the word "Verily," and it was a common saying among +those that knew me, "if George says Verily, there is no altering him." +When boys and rude persons would laugh at me, I let them alone, but +people generally had a love to me for my innocence and honesty. + +'When I came towards 19 years of age, being upon business at a Fair, +one of my cousins, whose name was Bradford, a professor, having +another professor with him, asked me to drink part of a jug of beer +with them. I, being thirsty, went with them, for I loved any that had +a sense of good. When we had drunk a glass apiece, they began to drink +healths and called for more drink, agreeing together that he that +would not drink should pay for all. I was grieved that they should do +so, and putting my hand into my pocket took out a groat and laid it on +the table before them, saying, "If it be so, I will leave you." So I +went away, and when I had done my business I returned home, but did +not go to bed that night, nor could I sleep, but sometimes walked up +and down and prayed and cried unto the Lord, who said to me: "Thou +must forsake all, young and old, keep out of all and be a stranger to +all." + +'Then at the command of God, the 9th of the 7th month,[1] 1643, I left +my relations, and broke off all familiarity or fellowship with young +or old.' + +The old-fashioned English of the 'Journal' makes this story rather +puzzling at the first reading, because several words have changed in +meaning since it was written. The name 'professors,' did not then mean +learned men who teach or lecture in a University, but any men who +'professed' to be particularly religious and good. These +'professionally religious people' are generally known as 'the +Puritans,' and it was meeting with these bad specimens among them who +'professed' a religion they did not attempt to practise, that so +dismayed George Fox. Here at any rate 'Pure Faith' was not being kept +either to God or men. He must find a more solid foundation on which to +rest his own soul's loyalty and allegiance. Over the porch of the +Church at Fenny Drayton is painted now, not the Purefoy motto, but the +words: 'I will go forth in the strength of the Lord God.' It was from +this place that George Fox set forth on the long search for a 'Pure +Faith' that, when he found it, was to bring both to him and to many +thousands of his countrymen a 'Sure Joy.' + +Why Righteous Christer and his wife did not help George more at this +time remains a puzzle. They may have been afraid lest he was making a +terrible mistake in leaving the worship they knew and followed, or +they may have guessed that God was really calling him to do some work +for Him bigger than they could understand, and may have felt that they +could help their boy best by leaving him free to follow the Voice that +spoke to him in the depths of his own heart, even if he had to fight +his own battles unaided. Or possibly their thoughts were too full of +all the actual battles that were filling the air just then to think +any other troubles important. For our Quaker Saints are not legendary +people; they are a real part of English History. + +All through the years of George's boyhood the struggle between King +Charles the First and his Parliament had been getting more tense and +embittered. The abolition of the Star Chamber (May 1640), the +attempted arrest of the five Members (October 1642), the trial and +death, first of Strafford (May 1641) and then of Laud (January +1645)--all these events had been convulsing the great heart of the +English nation during the long years while young George had been +quietly keeping his master's sheep and cattle in his secluded +Leicestershire village. + +A year before he left home the long-dreaded Civil War had at last +broken out. But the Civil War that broke out in the soul of the young +shepherd lad, the struggle between good and evil when he saw his +Puritan cousin tempting other people to drink and carouse, was to him +a more momentous event than all the outward battles that were raging. +His Journal hardly mentions the rival armies of King and Parliament +that were marching through the land. Yet in reading of his early +struggles in his own spirit, we must always keep in the background of +our minds the thought of the great national struggle that was raging +at the same time. It was not in the orderly, peaceful, settled England +of his earliest years that the boy grew to manhood, but in an England +that was being torn asunder by the rival faiths and passions of her +sons. Men's minds were filled with the perplexities of great national +problems of Church and State, of tyranny and freedom. No wonder that +at such a time everyone was too busy to spare much sympathy or many +thoughts for the spiritual perplexities of one obscure country lad. + +Right into the very middle, then, of this troubled, seething England, +George Fox plunged when he left his home at Fenny Drayton. The battle +of Marston Moor was fought the following year, July 1644, and Naseby +the summer after that. But George was not heeding outward battles. Up +and down the country he walked, seeking for help in his spiritual +difficulties from all the different kinds of people he came across; +and there were a great many different kinds. The England of that day +was not only torn by Civil War, it was also split up into innumerable +different sects, now that the attempt to force everyone to worship +according to one prescribed fashion was at length being abandoned. In +one small Yorkshire town it is recorded that there were no less than +forty of these sects worshipping in different ways about this time, +while new sects were continually arising. + +Perhaps it was a generous wish to give the professors another chance +and not to judge the whole party from the bad specimens he had met, +that made George go back to the Puritans for help. At first they made +much of the young enquirer; but, alas! they all had the same defect as +those he had met already. Their spoken profession sounded very fine, +but they did not carry it out in their lives. + +'They sought to be acquainted with me, but I was afraid of them, for I +was sensible they did not possess what they professed.' In other +words, their faith did not ring true. The professors were certainly +not 'Pure as a Bell.' + +George Fox's test was always the same, both for his own religion and +other people's: 'Is this faith real? Is it true? Can you actually live +out what you profess to believe? And do you? Is your faith pure? Is +your joy sure?' + +Finding that, in the case of the professors, a sorrowful 'No' was the +only answer that their lives gave to these questions, George says: 'A +strong temptation to despair came over me. I then saw how Christ was +tempted, and mighty troubles I was in. Sometimes I kept myself retired +in my chamber, and often walked solitary in the Chace to wait upon the +Lord.' + +It must not be forgotten that part of the Puritan worship consisted in +making enormously long prayers in spoken words, and preaching sermons +that lasted several hours at a time. George Fox became more and more +sure that this was not the worship God wanted from him, as he thought +over these matters in solitude under the trees of Barnet Chace. + +After a time he went back to his relations in Leicestershire. They saw +the youth was unhappy, and very naturally thought it would be far +better for him to settle down and have a happy home of his own than to +go wandering about the country in distress about the state of his +soul. + +'Being returned into Leicestershire, my relations would have had me +married; but I told them I was but a lad and must get wisdom.' Other +people said: 'No, don't marry him yet. Put him into the auxiliary band +among the soldiery. Once he gets fighting, that will soon knock the +notions out of his head.' + +Young George would not consent to this plan either. He had his own +battle to fight, his own victory to win, unaided and alone. He did not +yet know that it was useless for him to seek for outward help. Being +still only a lad of nineteen he thought that surely there must be +someone among his elders who could help him, if only he could find out +the right person. Having failed with the professors, he determined +next to consult the priests and see if they could advise him in his +perplexities. 'Priests' is another word that has changed its meaning +almost as much as 'professors' has done. By 'priests' George Fox does +not mean Anglican or Roman Catholic clergy, but simply men of any +denomination who were paid for preaching. At this particular time the +English Rectories and Vicarages were mostly occupied by Presbyterians +and Independents. It was they who preached and who were paid for +preaching in the village churches, which is what he means by calling +them 'priests' in his Journal. + +In these stories there is no need to think of George Fox as arguing or +fighting against real Christianity in any of the churches. He was +fighting, rather, against sham religion, formality and hypocrisy +wherever he found them. In that great fight all who truly love Truth +and God are on the same side, even though they are called by different +names. So remember that these old labels that he uses for his +opponents have changed their meaning very considerably in the three +hundred years that have passed since his birth. Remember too that the +world had had at that time nearly three hundred years less in which to +learn good manners than it has now. The manners and customs of the day +were much rougher than those of modern times. However much we may +disagree with people, there is no need for us to tell them so in the +same sort of harsh language that was too often used by George Fox and +his contemporaries. + +To these Presbyterian priests, therefore, George went next to ask for +counsel and help. The first he tried was the Reverend Nathaniel +Stephens, the priest of his own village of Fenny Drayton. At first +Priest Stephens and young George seemed to get on very well together. +Another priest was often with Stephens, and the two learned men would +often talk and argue with the boy, and be astonished at the wise +answers he gave. 'It is a very good, full answer,' Stephens once said +to George, 'and such an one as I have not heard.' He applauded the boy +and spoke highly of him, and even used the answers he gave in his own +sermons on Sundays. This was a compliment, but it cost him George's +friendship and respect, because he felt it was a deceitful practice. +The Journal says: 'What I said in discourse to him on week-days, he +would preach of on first days, which gave me a dislike to him. This +priest afterwards became my great persecutor.' + +Priest Stephens' wife was also very much opposed to Fox, and it is +said that on one occasion she 'very unseemly plucked and haled him up +and down, and scoffed and laughed.' Fox always felt that this priest +and his wife were his bitter foes; but other people described Priest +Stephens as 'a good scholar and a useful preacher, in his younger days +a very hard student, in his old age pleasant and cheerful.' So, as +generally happens, there may have been a friendly side to this couple +for those who took them the right way. + +After this, Fox continues, 'I went to another ancient priest at +Mancetter in Warwickshire, and reasoned with him about the ground of +despair and temptations; but he was ignorant of my condition; he bade +me take tobacco and sing psalms. Tobacco was a thing I did not love, +and psalms I was not in a state to sing; I could not sing. Then he bid +me come again and he would tell me many things; but when I came he was +angry and pettish; for my former words had displeased him. He told my +troubles, sorrows and griefs to his servants so that it got among the +milk-lasses. It grieved me that I should have opened my mind to such a +one. I saw they were all miserable comforters, and this brought my +troubles more upon me. Then I heard of a priest living about Tamworth, +which was accounted an experienced man, and I went seven miles to +him; but I found him like an empty hollow cask. I heard also of one +called Dr. Craddock of Coventry, and went to him. I asked him the +ground of temptations and despair, and how troubles came to be wrought +in man? He asked me, "Who was Christ's Father and Mother?" I told him +Mary was His Mother, and that He was supposed to be the son of Joseph, +but He was the Son of God. Now, as we were walking together in his +garden, the alley being narrow, I chanced, in turning, to set my foot +on the side of a bed, at which the man was in a rage, as if his house +had been on fire. Thus all our discourse was lost, and I went away in +sorrow, worse than I was when I came. I thought them miserable +comforters, and saw they were all as nothing to me; for they could not +reach my condition. After this I went to another, one Macham, a priest +in high account. He would needs give me some physic, and I was to have +been let blood; but they could not get one drop of blood from me, +either in arms or head (though they endeavoured to do so), my body +being, as it were, dried up with sorrows, grief and troubles, which +were so great upon me that I could have wished I had never been born, +or that I had been born blind, that I might never have seen wickedness +or vanity; and deaf, that I might never have heard vain and wicked +words, or the Lord's name blasphemed. When the time called Christmas +came, while others were feasting and sporting themselves, I looked out +poor widows from house to house, and gave them some money. When I was +invited to marriages (as I sometimes was) I went to none at all, but +the next day, or soon after, I would go to visit them; and if they +were poor, I gave them some money; for I had wherewith both to keep +myself from being chargeable to others, and to administer something to +the necessities of those who were in need.' + +Three years passed in this way, and then at last the first streaks of +light began to dawn in the darkness. They came, not in any sudden or +startling way, but little by little his soul was filled with the hope +of dawn: + + Silently as the morning + Comes on when night is done, + Or the crimson streak, on ocean's cheek, + Grows into the great sun. + +He says, 'About the beginning of the year 1646, as I was going into +Coventry, a consideration arose in me how it was said, "All Christians +are believers, both Protestants and Papists," and the Lord opened to +me, that if all were believers, then they were all born of God, and +were passed from death unto life, and that none were true believers +but such, and though others said they were believers, yet they were +not.' + +Possibly George Fox was looking up at the 'Three Tall Spires' of +Coventry when this thought came to him, and remembering in how many +different ways Christians had worshipped under their shadow: first the +Latin Mass, then the order of Common Prayer, and now the Puritan +service. 'At another time,' he says, 'as I was walking in a field on a +first day morning, the Lord opened to me "That being bred at Oxford or +Cambridge was not enough to fit and qualify men to be ministers of +Christ:" and I wondered at it because it was the common belief of +people. But I saw it clearly as the Lord had opened it to me, and was +satisfied and admired the goodness of the Lord, who had opened the +thing to me this morning.... So that which opened in me struck I saw +at the priests' ministry. But my relations were much troubled that I +would not go with them to hear the priest; for I would go into the +orchard or the fields with my Bible by myself.... I saw that to be a +true believer was another thing than they looked upon it to be ... so +neither them nor any of the dissenting people could I join with. + +'At another time it was opened in me, "That God who made the world did +not dwell in temples made with hands." This at the first seemed +strange, because both priests and people used to call their temples or +churches dreadful places, holy ground and the temples of God. But the +Lord showed me clearly that He did not dwell in these temples which +men had made, but in people's hearts.' + +In this way George Fox had found out for himself three of the +foundation truths of a pure faith:-- + + 1st. That all Christians are believers, Protestants and Papists + alike. + + 2nd. That Christ was come to teach His people Himself. + + 3rd. That the Temple in which God wishes to dwell is in the + hearts of His children. + +Now that George Fox was sure of these three things, it troubled him +less if he was with people whose beliefs he could not share. + +The first set of people he came among believed that women had no +souls, 'no more than a goose has a soul' added one of them in a light, +jesting tone. George Fox reproved them and told them it was a wrong +thing to say, and added that Mary in her song said, 'My soul doth +magnify the Lord, My spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour,' so she +must have had a soul. George by this time had learned to know his +Bible so well in the long quiet hours out of doors, when it had been +his only companion, that it was easy to him to find the exact +quotation he wanted in an argument. It was said of him, later on, by +wise and learned men, that if the Bible itself were ever to be lost it +might almost be found again in the mouth of George Fox, so well did he +know it. + +The next set of people he came to were great dreamers. They guided +their lives in the daytime according to the dreams they had happened +to dream during the night. And I should think a fine mess they must +have made of things! George helped these dreamers to know more of +realities, till, later on, many of them came out of their dream-world +and became Friends. + +After this at last he came upon a set of people who really did seem to +understand him and to care for the same things that he did. They were +called 'Shattered Baptists,' because they had broken off from the +other Baptists in the neighbourhood who 'did the Lord's work +negligently' and did not act up to what they professed. This was the +very same fault that had driven George forth from among the professors +at the beginning of his long quest. It is easy to imagine that he and +these people were happy together. 'With these,' he says, 'I had some +meetings and discourses, but my troubles continued and I was often +under great temptations. I fasted much, walked abroad in solitary +places many days, and often took my Bible and sat in hollow trees and +lonesome places till night came on, and frequently in the night walked +about by myself.... O the everlasting love of God to my soul, when I +was in great distress! when my troubles and torments were great, then +was His love exceeding great.... When all my hopes in all men were +gone so that I had nothing outwardly to help me, nor could I tell what +to do, then, O then, I heard a Voice which said, "There is one, even +Christ Jesus, that can speak to thy condition." When I heard it, my +heart did leap for joy.' + +This message was like the rising of the sun to George Fox. The long +night of darkness was over now, the sun had risen, and though there +might be clouds and storms ahead of him still he had come out into the +full clear light of day. + +'My desires after the Lord grew stronger,' he writes, 'and zeal in the +pure knowledge of God and of Christ alone, without the help of any +man, book, or writing.... Then the Lord gently led me along and let me +see His love which was endless and eternal, surpassing all the +knowledge that men have in the natural state or can get by history and +books. That love let me see myself as I was without him.... At another +time I saw the great love of God, and was filled with admiration at +the infiniteness of it.' + +The truths that George Fox is trying to express are difficult to put +into words. It is the more difficult for us to understand what he +means because his language is not quite the same as ours. Other words +besides 'priest' and 'professor' have altered their meanings. When he +speaks of having had things 'opened' to him, we should be more likely +to say he had had them revealed to him, or had had a revelation. +Perhaps these 'openings' and 'seeings' that he describes, though they +meant much to him, do not sound to us now like very great discoveries. +They are only what we have been accustomed to hear all our lives. But +then, whom have we to thank for that? In large measure George Fox +himself. + +In the immense bush forests that cover an unexplored country or +continent the first man who attempts to make a track through them has +the hardest task. He has to guess the right direction, to cut down the +first trees, to 'blaze a trail,' to help every one who follows him to +find the way a little more easily. That man is called a Pioneer. +George Fox was a pioneer in the spiritual world. He discovered a true +path for himself, a path leading right through the thick forest of +human selfishness and sin and out into the bright sunshine beyond. In +his lonely Quest through those years of struggle he was indeed +'blazing a trail' for us. If the track we tread nowadays is smooth and +easy to tread, that is because of the pioneers who have gone before +us. Our ease has been gained through their labours and sufferings and +steadfastness. + +The track was not fully clear even yet to George Fox. He had more to +learn before he could make the right path plain to others; more to +learn, but chiefly more to suffer. To strengthen him beforehand for +those sufferings, he was given an assurance that never afterwards +entirely left him. 'I saw the Infinite Love of God. I saw also that +there was an ocean of darkness and death; but an infinite ocean of +light and love which flowed over the ocean of darkness. In that also I +saw the infinite love of God, and I had great openings.' The Quest was +ended. Faith was pure, and Joy was sure at last. + +'Now was I come up in spirit, through the flaming sword, into the +Paradise of God. All things were made new, and all the creation gave +another smell to me beyond what words can utter. I knew nothing but +pureness, innocency, and righteousness, being renewed up to the image +of God by Christ Jesus.... Great things did the Lord lead me into, and +wonderful depths were opened to me, beyond what can by words be +declared; but as people come into subjection by the Spirit of God, and +grow up in the Image and Power of the Almighty they may receive the +word of wisdom that opens all things, and come to know the hidden +unity in the Eternal Being.' + +'Thus travelled I in the Lord's service, as He led me.' + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] The 7th month would be September, because the years then began +with March. + + + + +III. THE ANGEL OF BEVERLEY + + + + + _'To instruct young lasses and + maidens in whatever things was + useful in the creation.'--R. + ABRAHAM._ + + + _'It was the age of long + discourses and ecstatic + exercises.'--MORLEY'S CROMWELL._ + + + _'George Fox's preaching, in those + early years, chiefly consisted of + some few, but powerful and + piercing words, to those whose + hearts were already in some + measure prepared to be capable of + receiving this doctrine.'--SEWEL'S + HISTORY._ + + + _'But at the first convincement + when friends could not put off + their hats to people, nor say you + to a particular but thee and thou; + and could not bowe nor use the + world's fashions nor customs ... + people would not trade with them + nor trust them ... but afterwards + people came to see friends honesty + and truthfulness.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'The light which shows us our + sins is that which heals us.'--G. + FOX._ + + + _'GOD works slowly.'--BISHOP + WESTCOTT._ + + + + +III. THE ANGEL OF BEVERLEY + + +Among all the children of Drayton village who watched eagerly for the +door to open into the Purefoy Chapel on Sundays, when the Squire's +family were at home, none watched for it more intently than blue-eyed +Cecily, the old huntsman's granddaughter. Cecily's parents were both +dead, and she lived with her grandfather in one of the twin lodges +that guarded the Manor gates. Old Thomas had fought at the Squire's +side abroad in years gone by. Now, aged and bent, he, too, watched for +that door to open, as he sat in his accustomed place in the church +with Cecily by his side. Old Thomas's eyes followed his master +lovingly, when Colonel Purefoy entered, heading the little +procession,--a tall, erect, soldierly-looking man, though his hair was +decidedly grey, and grey too was the pointed beard that he still wore +over a small ruff, in the fashion of the preceding reign. + +Close behind him came his wife. The village people spoke of her as +'Madam,' since, although English born, and, indeed, possessed of +considerable property in her own native county of Yorkshire, she was +attached to the Court of Queen Henrietta Maria, and had caught +something of the foreign grace of her French mistress. + +But it was the two children for whose coming Cecily waited most +eagerly, as they followed their parents. Edward Purefoy, the heir, a +tall, handsome boy, came in first, leading by the hand his dainty +little sister Jocosa, who seemed too fairy-like to support the +stately family name, and who was generally known by its shorter form +of Joyce. + +Last of all came a portly waiting-maid, carrying a silky-haired +spaniel on a cushion under each arm. These petted darlings, King +Charles' own special favourites, were all the rage at Court at this +time, and accompanied their masters and mistresses everywhere, even to +church, where--fortunate beings--they were allowed to slumber +peacefully on cushions at their owners' feet throughout the long +services, when mere human creatures were obliged at any rate to +endeavour to keep awake. + +Cecily had no eyes to spare, even for the pet-dogs, on the eventful +Sunday when the Squire and his family first appeared again at church +after an unusually long absence. For there was little Mistress Jocosa, +all clad in white satin, like a princess in a fairy tale, and as +pretty as a picture. And so the great Court painter, Sir Anthony +Vandyck, must have thought, seeing he had chosen to paint her portrait +and make a picture of her himself in this same costume, with its +stiff, straight, shining skirt, tight bodice, pointed lace collar, and +close-fitting transparent cap that covered, but could not hide, the +waves of dark crisp hair. When Cecily discovered that a string of +pearls was clasped round the other little girl's neck, she gave a long +gasp of delight, a gasp that ended in an irrepressible sigh. For, a +moment later, this dazzling vision, with its dancing eyes, delicate +features, and glowing cheeks, was lost to sight. All through the +remainder of the service it stayed hidden in the depths of the high +old family pew, whence nothing could be seen save the top of the +Squire's silver head, rising occasionally, like an erratic half moon, +over the edge of the dark oak wood. + +Not another glimpse was to be had of the white satin princess; there +was no one to look at but the ordinary village folk whom Cecily could +see every day of her life: young George Fox, for instance, the +Weaver's son, who was staring straight before him as usual, paying not +the smallest heed to the entrance of all these marvellous beings. +Fancy staring at the marble tomb erected by a long dead Lady Jocosa, +and never even noticing her living namesake of to-day, with all her +sparkles and flushes! Truly the Weaver's son was a strange lad, as the +whole village knew. + +A strange boy indeed, Joyce Purefoy thought in her turn, as, passing +close by him on her way out of church, she happened to look up and to +meet the steady gaze of the young eyes that were at the same time so +piercing and yet so far away. She could not see his features clearly, +since the sun, pouring in through a tall lancet window behind him, +dazzled her eyes. Yet, even through the blurr of light, she felt the +clear look that went straight through and found the real Joyce lying +deep down somewhere, though hidden beneath all the finery with which +she had hoped to dazzle the village children. + +Late that same evening it was no fairy princess but a contrite little +girl who approached her mother's side at bed-time. + +'Forgive me, mother mine, I did pick just a few cherries from the tree +above the moat,' she whispered hesitatingly 'I was hot and they were +juicy. Then, when you and my father crossed the bridge on our way to +church and asked me had I taken any, I,--no--I did not exactly forget, +but I suppose I disremembered, and I said I had not had one.' + +'Jocosa!' exclaimed her mother sternly: 'What! You a Purefoy and my +daughter, yet not to be trusted to tell the truth! For the cherries, +they are a small matter, I gave you plenty myself later, but to lie +about even a trifle, it is that, that I mind.' + +The little girl hung her head still lower. 'I know,' she said, 'it was +shameful. Yet, in truth, I did confess at length.' + +'True,' answered her mother, 'and therefore thou art forgiven, and +without a punishment; only remember thy name and take better heed of +thy Pure Faith another time. What made thee come and tell me even +now?' + +'The sight of the broken spear in church,' stammered the little girl. +'That began it, and then I partly remembered....' + +She got no further. Even to her indulgent mother (and Madam Purefoy +was accounted an unwontedly tender parent in those days), Joyce could +not explain how it was, that, as the glance from those grave boyish +eyes fell upon her, out of the sunlit window, her 'disremembering' +became suddenly a weight too heavy to be borne. + +Jocosa Purefoy never forgot that Sunday, or her childish fault. + + * * * * * + +The visits of the Squire and his family to the old Manor House were +few and far between. The estates in Yorkshire that Madam Purefoy had +brought to her husband on her marriage were the children's real home. +It was several years after this before Cecily saw her fairy princess +again. The next glimpse was even more fleeting than their appearance +in church, just a mere flash at the lodge gates as Jocosa and her +brother cantered past on their way out for a day's hunting. Old +Thomas, sitting in his arm-chair in the sun, looked critically and +enviously at the man-servant who accompanied them. 'Too young--too +young,' he muttered. His own hunting days were long past, but he could +not bear, even crippled with rheumatism as he was, that any one but +he, who had taught their father to sit a horse, should ride to hounds +with his children. + +Cecily had some envious thoughts too. 'I should like very well to wear +a scarlet riding-dress and fur tippet, and a long red feather in my +hat, and go a-hunting on old Snowball, instead of having to stop at +home and take care of grandfather and mind the house.' + +After she had closed the heavy iron gates with a clang, she pressed +her nose between the bars and looked wistfully along the straight +road, carried on its high causeway above the fens, down which the gay +riders were swiftly disappearing. + +But, in spite of envious looks, the gaiety of the day was short-lived. +During the very first run, Snowball put her foot into a rabbit-hole, +and almost came down. 'Lamed herself, sure enough,' said the +man-servant grimly. No more hunting for Snowball that day. The best +that could be hoped was that she might be able to carry her little +mistress's light weight safely home, at a walking pace, over the few +miles that separated them from Drayton. Joyce could not return alone, +and Edward would not desert his sister, though he could not repress a +few gloomy remarks on the homeward way. + +'To lose such a splendid dry day at this season! Once the weather +breaks and the floods are out, there will be no leaving the Manor +House again for weeks, save by the causeway over the fens!' + +Thus it was a rather melancholy trio that returned slowly by the same +road over which the ponies' feet had scampered gaily an hour or two +before. + +When the chimneys of Drayton were coming in sight, a loud 'Halloo' +made the riders look round. A second fox must have led the hunt back +in their direction after all. Sure enough, a speck of ruddy brown was +to be seen slinking along beneath a haystack in the distance. Already +the hounds were scrambling across the road after him, while, except +for the huntsman, not a solitary rider was as yet to be seen anywhere. + +The temptation was too strong for Edward. The brush might still be +his, if he were quick. + +'We are close at home. You will come to no harm now, sister,' he +called. Then, raising his whip, he was off at a gallop, beckoning +peremptorily to the groom to follow him. Not without a shade of +remorse for deserting his little mistress, the man-servant obediently +gave Snowball's bridle to Joyce, and set spurs to his horse. Then, as +he galloped away, he salved his conscience with the reflection that +'after all, young Master's neck is in more danger than young Missie's, +now home is in sight.' + +Joyce, left alone, dismounted, in order to lead Snowball herself on +the uneven road across the fens. It was difficult to do this +satisfactorily, owing to the pony's lameness, and her long, clinging +skirt, over which she was perpetually tripping. Therefore, looking +down over the hedgeless country for someone to help her, it was with +real relief that she caught sight of a tall youth close at hand, in a +pasture where sheep and cattle were grazing. All her life Joyce was +accustomed to treat the people she met with the airs of a queen. +Therefore, 'Hey! boy,' she called imperiously, 'come and help me! +quick!' + +She had to call more than once before the youth looked up, and when he +did, at first he made no motion in response. Then, seeing that the +pony really was limping badly, and that the little lady was obviously +in difficulty, and was, moreover, a very little lady still, in spite +of her peremptory tones, he changed his mind. Striding slowly towards +her, he rather reluctantly closed the book he had been reading, and +placed it in his pocket. Then, without saying a single word, he put +out his hand and taking Snowball's bridle from Joyce he proceeded to +lead the pony carefully and cleverly over the stones. + +The silence remained unbroken for a few minutes: the lad buried in his +own thoughts, grave, earnest and preoccupied; the dainty damsel, her +skirt held up now, satisfactorily, on both sides, skipping along, with +glancing footsteps, as she tried to keep up with her companion's +longer paces, and at the same time to remember why this tall, silent +boy seemed to her vaguely familiar. She could not see his face, for it +was turned towards Snowball, and Joyce herself scarcely came up to her +companion's elbow. + +They passed a cottage, set back at some distance from the road and +half hidden by a cherry-tree with a few late leaves upon it, crimsoned +by the first touch of November frost. A cherry-tree! The old memory +flashed back in a moment. + +'I know who you are,' exclaimed Joyce, 'even though you don't speak a +word. And I know your name. You are Righteous Christer the Weaver's +son, and you are called George, like my father. You have grown so big +and tall I did not know you at first, but now I do. Where do you +live?' + +The boy pointed in the direction of the cottage under the cherry-tree. +The gentle whirr of the loom stole through the window as they +approached. + +'And I have seen you before,' Joyce went on, 'a long time ago, the +last time we were here, on Sunday. It was in church,' she concluded +triumphantly. + +'Aye, in yon steeple-house,' answered her companion moodily, and with +no show of interest. 'Very like.' His eyes wandered from the thatched +roof of the cottage to where, high above the tall old yew-trees, a +slender spire pointed heavenward. + +Joyce laughed at the unfamiliar word. 'That is a church, not a +steeple-house,' she corrected. 'Of course it has a steeple, but +wherefore give it such a clumsy name?' + +Her companion made no reply. He seemed absorbed in a world of his own, +though still leading the pony carefully. + +Joyce, piqued at having her presence ignored even by a village lad, +determined to arouse him. 'Moreover, I have heard Priest Stephens +speak of you to my father,' she went on, with a little pin-prick of +emphasis on each word, though addressing her remarks apparently to no +one in particular, and with her dainty head tilted in the air. + +Her companion turned to her at once. 'What said the Priest?' he +enquired quickly. + +'The Priest said, "Never was such a plant bred in England before!" +What his words meant I know not--unless he was thinking of the proverb +of certain plants that grow apace,' she added maliciously, looking up +with a gleam of fun at the tall figure beside her. 'And my father +said....' + +Colonel Purefoy's remark was not destined to be revealed, for they had +reached the tall gateway by this time. Old Thomas, seeing his little +mistress approaching, accompanied only by the Weaver's son, and with +Snowball obviously damaged, had hobbled to meet them in spite of his +rheumatics. Close at hand was Cecily, brimful of excitement at the +sight of her fairy princess actually stopping at their own cottage +door. The tall youth handed the pony's bridle to the old man, and was +departing with evident relief, when a clear, imperious voice stopped +him-- + +'Good-bye and good-day to you, Weaver's son, and thanks for your aid,' +said Jocosa, like a queen dismissing a subject. + +The tall figure looked down upon the patronizing little lady, as if +from a remote height. 'Mayest thou verily fare well,' he said, almost +with solemnity, and then, without removing his hat or making any +gesture of respect, he turned abruptly and was gone. + +'A strange boy,' Joyce said to herself a few minutes later as she +stood on the stone bridge that crossed the moat in front of the Manor +House. 'I did not like him; in fact I rather disliked him--but I +should like to see him again and find out what he meant by his +"steeple-house" and "verily."' + +Cecily, left behind at the Lodge, very happy because her fairy +princess had actually thrown her a smile as she passed, was still +following the distant figure on the bridge with wistful eyes, as Joyce +busily searched her pockets for a few stray crumbs with which to feed +the swans in the moat. The scarlet riding-dress, glossy tippet, and +scarlet feather in the big brown hat were all faithfully reflected in +the clear water below, except where the swans interrupted the vivid +picture with dazzling snowy curves and orange webbed feet. + +More critical eyes than Cecily's were also watching Joyce. High up on +the terrace, where a few late roses and asters were still in bloom, +two figures were leaning over the stone parapet, looking down over the +moat. 'A fair maiden, indeed,' a voice was saying, in low, polished +tones. The next moment the sound of her own name made the girl look +up. There, coming towards her, at the very top of the flight of +shallow stone steps that led from the terrace to the low stone bridge, +she saw her father, and with him a stranger, dressed, not like Colonel +Purefoy, in a slightly archaic costume, but in the very latest fashion +of King Charles's Court at Whitehall. + +'My father come home already! and a stranger with him! What an unlucky +chance after the misadventure of the morning!' + +Throwing her remaining crumbs over the swans in a swift shower, Joyce +made haste up the stone steps, to greet the two gentlemen with the +reverence always paid by children to their elders in those days. + +Somewhat to her surprise, her father bent down and kissed her cheek. +Then, taking her hand, he led her towards the stranger, and presented +her very gravely. 'My daughter, Jocosa: my good friend, Sir Everard +Danvers.' 'Exactly as if I had been a grown-up lady at Court,' thought +Joyce, delighted, with the delight of thirteen, at her own unexpected +importance. Her father had never paid her so much attention before. +Well, at least he should see that she was worthy of it now. And Joyce +dropped her lowest, most formal, curtsey, as the stranger bowed low +over her hand. To curtsey at the edge of a flight of steps, and in a +clinging riding skirt, was an accomplishment of which anyone might be +proud. Was the stranger properly impressed? He appeared grave enough, +anyhow, and a very splendid figure in his suit of sky-blue satin, +short shoulder cape, and pointed lace collar. He was a strikingly +handsome man, of a dark-olive complexion, with good features, and +jet-black hair; but strangely enough, the sight of him made Joyce turn +back to her father, feeling as if she had never understood before the +comfort of his quiet, familiar face. Even the old-fashioned ruff gave +her a sense of home and security. She would tell him about the +morning's disasters now after all. But Colonel Purefoy's questions +came first. 'How now, Jocosa, and wherefore alone? My daughter rides +with her brother in my absence,' he added, turning to his companion. + +'Father,--Snowball,...' began Joyce bravely, her colour rising as she +spoke. + +'Talk not of snowballs,' interrupted Sir Everard gallantly, 'it may +be November by the calendar, but here it is high summer yet, with +roses all abloom.' He pointed to her crimsoning cheeks. + +They quickly flushed a deeper crimson, evidently to the stranger's +amusement. 'Why here comes Maiden's Blush, Queen of all the Roses' he +went on, in a teasing voice. Then, turning to Colonel Purefoy, 'By my +faith, Purefoy,' he said, 'my scamp of a nephew is a lucky dog.' + +Joyce's bewilderment increased. What did it all mean? Was he +play-acting? Why did they both treat her so? The stranger's +punctilious politeness had flattered her at first, but, since the +mocking tone stole into his voice she felt that she hated him, and +looked round hoping to escape. Sir Everard was too quick for her. In +that instant he had managed to possess himself of her hand, and now he +was kissing it with exaggerated homage and deference, yet still with +that mocking smile that seemed to say--'Like it, or like it not, +little I care.' + +Joyce had often seen people kiss her mother's hand, and had thought, +as she watched the delightful process, how much she should enjoy it, +when her own turn came. She knew better now: it was not a delightful +process at all, it was simply hateful. A new Joyce suddenly woke up +within her, a frightened, angry Joyce, who wanted to run away and +hide. All her new-born dignity vanished in a moment. Scarcely waiting +for her father's amused permission: 'There then, maiden, haste to thy +mother: she has news for thee'--she flew along the terrace and in at +the hall door. As she fled up the oak staircase that led to her +mother's withdrawing-room, she vainly tried to shut her ears to the +sounds of laughter that floated after her from the terrace below. + +Madam Purefoy was seated, half hidden behind her big, upright +embroidery frame, in one of the recesses formed by the high, deeply +mullioned windows. Thin rays of autumn sunshine filled the tapestried +room with pale, clear light. There was no possibility of mistaking the +colours of the silks that lay in their varied hues close under her +hand. Why, then, had this skilful embroideress deliberately threaded +her needle with a shade of brilliant blue silk? Why was she carefully +using it to fill in a lady's cheek without noticing, apparently, that +anything was wrong? Yet, at the first sound of Joyce's light footfall +on the stairs she laid down her needle and listened, and held out her +arms, directly her daughter appeared, flushed and agitated, in the +doorway, waiting for permission to enter. + +Mothers were mothers, it seems, even in the seventeenth century. In +another minute Joyce was in her arms, pouring out the whole history of +the morning. By this time Snowball's lameness had faded behind the +remembrance of the encounter on the terrace. + +'Who is that man, mother? A courtier, I know, since he wears such +beautiful clothes. But wherefore comes he here? I thought I liked him, +until he kissed my hand and laughed at me, and then I detested him. I +hope I shall never see him again.' And she hid her face. + +Before speaking, Mistress Purefoy left her seat and carefully closed +the casement, in order that their voices might not reach the ears of +anyone on the terrace below. Then, taking Joyce on her knee as if she +had been still a child, she explained to her that the stranger, Sir +Everard Danvers, was a well-known and favourite attendant of the +Queen's. 'And it is by her wish that he comes hither for thee, +Mignonne.' + +'For me?' Joyce grew rosier than ever; 'I am too young yet to be a +Maid of Honour as thou wert in thy girlhood. What does her Majesty +know about me?' she questioned. + +'Only that thou art my daughter, and that she is my very good friend. +Her Majesty knows also that, in time, thou wilt inherit some of my +Yorkshire estates; and therefore she hath sent Sir Everard to demand +thy hand in marriage for his nephew and ward, the young Viscount +Danvers, whose property marches with ours. Moreover, seeing that the +times are unsettled, her Majesty hath signified her pleasure that not +a mere betrothal, but the marriage ceremony itself, shall take place +as soon as possible in the Chapel Royal at St. James's, since the +young Viscount, thy husband to be, is attached to her suite as a +page.' + +'But I am not fourteen yet,' faltered Joyce, ''tis full soon to be +wed.' A vista of endless court curtseys and endless mocking strangers +swam before her eyes, and prevented her being elated with the prospect +that would otherwise have appeared so dazzling. + +Her mother stifled a sigh. 'Aye truly,' she replied, 'thy father and I +have both urged that. But her Majesty hath never forgotten the French +fashion of youthful marriages, and is bent on the scheme. She says, +with truth, that thou must needs have a year or two's education after +thy marriage for the position thou wilt have in future to fill at +Court, and 'tis better to have the contract settled first.' + +Education! To be married at thirteen might be a glorious thing, but to +be sent back, a bride, for a year or two of education thereafter was a +dismal prospect. + +That night there were tears of excitement and dismay on the pillow of +the Viscountess-to-be as she thought of the alarming future. Yet she +woke up, laughing, in the morning sunlight, for she had dreamt that +she was fastening a coronet over her brown hair. + + * * * * * + +The wedding festivities a few weeks later left nothing to be desired. +Day after day Joyce found herself the caressed centre of a brilliant +throng that held but one disappointing figure--her boy bridegroom. 'He +has eyes like a weasel, and a nose like a ferret,' was the bride's +secret criticism, when the introduction took place. But, after all, +the bridegroom was one of the least important parts of the wedding: +far less important than the Prince of Wales, who led her out to dance, +and whom she much preferred: far less important also than the +bridegroom's cousin, Abigail, a bold, black-eyed girl who took +country-bred Joyce under her protection at once, and saved her from +many a mistake. Abigail was already at the school to which Joyce was +to be sent. She herself was betrothed, though not as yet married, to +my Lord Darcy, and was therefore able to instruct Joyce herself in +many of the needful accomplishments of her new position. + +The school days that followed were not unhappy ones, since, far better +than their books, both girls loved their embroidery work and other +'curious and ingenious manufactures,' especially the new and +fashionable employment of making samplers, which had just been +introduced. But when, in a short time, the Civil Wars broke out, their +peaceful world collapsed like a house of cards. The 'position' of the +young Viscountess and her husband vanished into thin air. One winter +at Court the young couple spent together, it is true, when the King +and Queen were in Oxford, keeping state that was like a faint echo of +Whitehall. + +All too soon the fighting began again. In one of the earliest battles +young Lord Danvers was severely wounded and sent home maimed for life. +His days at Court and camp were over. Summoning his wife to nurse him, +he returned to his estate near Beverley in Yorkshire, where the next +few years of Joyce's life were spent, to her ill-concealed +displeasure. + +Her husband's days were evidently numbered, and as he grew weaker, he +grew more exacting. Patience had never been one of Joyce's strong +points, and, though she did her best, time often dragged, and she +mourned the cruel fate that had cast her lot in such an unquiet age. +Instead of wearing her coronet at Court, here she was moping and mewed +up in a stiff, puritanical countryside. + +After the triumph of the Parliamentarians, things grew worse. It would +have gone hard with the young couple had not a neighbour of theirs, of +much influence with the Protector, one Justice Hotham, made +representations as to the young lord's dying state and so ensured +their being left unmolested. + +Justice Hotham was a fatherly old man with a genius for understanding +his neighbours, especially young people. He was a good friend to +Joyce, and perpetually urged her to cherish her husband while he +remained with her. Judge then of the good Justice's distress, when, +one fine day, a note was brought to him from his wilful neighbour to +say that she could bear her lot no longer, that her dear friend +Abigail, Lady Darcy, was now on her way to join the Queen in France, +and had persuaded Joyce to leave her husband and accompany her +thither. + +The Justice looked up in dismay: a dismay reflected on the face of the +waiting-woman to whom Joyce had entrusted her confidential letter. +This was a certain blue-eyed Cecily, now a tall and comely maiden, who +had followed her mistress from her old home at Drayton-in-the-Clay. + +'She must be stopped,' said the good Judge. 'Spending the night with +Lady Darcy at the Inn at Beverley is she, sayest thou? And thou art to +join her there? Hie thee after her then, and delay her at all costs. +Plague on this gouty foot that ties me here! Maiden, I trust in thee +to bring her home.' + +Cecily needed no second bidding. 'She will not heed me. No mortal man +or woman can hinder my lady, once her mind is made up. Still I will do +my best,' was her only answer to the Judge; while 'It would take an +angel to stop her! May Heaven find one to do the work and send her +home, or ever my lord finds out that she has forsaken him,' she prayed +in the depths of her faithful heart. + +Was it in answer to her prayer that the rain came down in such +torrents that for two days the roads were impassable? Cecily was +inclined to think so. Anyhow, Joyce and Abigail, growing tired of the +stuffy inn parlour while the torrents descended, and having nothing to +do, seeing that the day was the Sabbath, and therefore scrupulously +observed without doors in Puritan Beverley, strolled through the +Minster, meaning to make sport of the congregation and its ways +thereafter. The sermon was long and tedious, but it was nearing its +end as they entered. At the close a stranger rose to speak in the body +of the Church, a tall stranger, who stood in the rays of the sun that +streamed through a lancet window behind him. His first words arrested +careless Joyce, though she paid small heed to preaching as a rule. + +More than the words, something vaguely familiar in the tones of the +voice and the piercing gaze that fell upon her out of the flood of +sunlight, awoke in her the memory of that long ago Sunday of her +childhood, of her theft of the cherries, of her 'disremembering,' and +then of her mother's words, 'You, a Purefoy, to forget to be worthy of +your name.' + +Alas! where was her Pure Faith now? The preacher seemed to be speaking +to her, to her alone: yet, strangely enough, to almost every heart in +that vast congregation the message went home. Did the building itself +rock and shake as if filled with power? The real Joyce was reached +again: the real Joyce, though hidden now under the weight of years of +self-pleasing, a heavier burden than any childish finery. Certainly +reached she was, though Lady Darcy preserved through it all her +cynical smile, and made sport of her friend's earnestness. +Nevertheless Lady Darcy went to France alone. Lady Danvers returned to +her husband--too much accustomed to be left alone, poor man, to have +been seriously disquieted by her absence. For the remainder of his +short life his wife did her best to tend him dutifully. But she did +leave him for an hour or two the day after her return, in order to go +and throw herself on her knees beside kind old Justice Hotham, and +confess to him how nearly she had deserted her post. + +'And then what saved you?' enquired the wise old man, smoothing back +the wavy hair from the wilful, lovely face that looked up to him, +pleading for forgiveness. + +'I think it was an angel,' said Joyce simply--'an angel or a spirit. +It rose up in Beverley Minster: it preached to us of the wonderful +things of God: words that burned. The whole building shook. Afterwards +it passed away.' + +Little she guessed that George Fox, the Weaver's son, the Judge's +guest, seated in a deep recess of the long, panelled library, was +obliged to listen to every word she spoke. Joyce never knew that the +angel who had again enabled her to keep her 'Faith pure' was no +stranger to her. Neither did it occur to him, whose thoughts were ever +full of weightier matters than wilful woman's ways, that he had met +this 'great woman of Beverley,' as he calls her, long before. + +Only waiting-maid Cecily, who had prayed for an angel; Cecily, who had +recognised the Weaver's son the first moment she saw him at the inn +door; Cecily who had found in him, also, the messenger sent by God in +answer to her prayer--wise Cecily kept silence until the day of her +death. + + * * * * * + +George Fox says in his Journal: + +'I was moved of the Lord to go to Beverley steeple-house, which was a +place of high profession. Being very wet with rain, I went first to an +inn. As soon as I came to the door, a young woman of the house said, +"What, is it you? Come in," as if she had known me before, for the +Lord's power bowed their hearts. So I refreshed myself and went to +bed. In the morning, my clothes being still wet, I got ready, and, +having paid for what I had, went up to the steeple-house where was a +man preaching. When he had done, I was moved to speak to him and to +the people in the mighty power of God, and turned them to their +teacher, Christ Jesus. The power of the Lord was so strong that it +struck a mighty dread among the people. The Mayor came and spoke a few +words to me, but none had power to meddle with me, so I passed out of +the town, and the next day went to Justice Hotham's. He was a pretty +tender man and had some experience of God's workings in his heart. +After some discourse with him of the things of God he took me into his +closet, where, sitting together, he told me he had known that +principle these ten years, and was glad that the Lord did now send his +servants to publish it abroad among the people. While I was there a +great woman of Beverley came to Justice Hotham about some business. In +discourse she told him that "The last Sabbath day," as she called it, +"an Angel or Spirit came into the church at Beverley and spoke the +wonderful things of God, to the astonishment of all that were there: +and when it had done, it passed away, and they did not know whence it +came or whither it went; but it astonished all, priests, professors +and magistrates." This relation Justice Hotham gave me afterwards, and +then I gave him an account that I had been that day at Beverley +steeple-house and had declared truth to the priest and people there.' + + + + +IV. TAMING THE TIGER + + + + + _'The state of the English law in + the 17th century with regard to + prisons was worthy of Looking + Glass Land. The magistrates' + responsibility was defined by ... + the justice. "They were to commit + them to prison but not to provide + prisons for them." This duty + devolved upon the gaoler, who was + an autocrat and responsible to no + authority. It frequently happened + that he was a convicted & branded + felon, chosen for the position by + reason of his strength & + brutality. Prisoners were ... + required to pay for this enforced + hospitality, & their first act + must be to make the most + favourable terms possible with + their gaoler landlord or his wife, + for food & lodging.'--M.R. + BRAILSFORD._ + + + _'You are bidden to fight with + your own selves, with your own + desires, with your own affections, + with your own reason, and with + your own will; and therefore if + you will find your enemies, never + look without.... You must expect + to fight a great battle.'--JOHN + EVERARD. 1650._ + + + _'The real essential battlefield + is always in the heart itself. It + is the victory over ourselves, + over the evil within, which alone + enables us to gain any real + victory over the evil + without.'--E.R. CHARLES._ + + + _'They who defend war, must defend + the dispositions that lead to war, + and these are clean against the + gospel.'--ERASMUS._ + + + + +IV. TAMING THE TIGER + + +Perhaps some boys and girls have said many times since the War began: +'I wish Friends did not think it wrong to fight for their King and +Country. Why did George Fox forbid Quakers to fight for the Right like +other brave men? Is it not right to fight for our own dear England?' + +But did George Fox ever forbid other people to fight? He was not in +the habit of laying down rules for other people, even his own +followers. Let us see what he himself did when, as a young man, he was +faced with this very same difficulty, or an even more perplexing one, +since it was our own dear England itself in those days that was tossed +and torn with Civil War. + +First of all, listen to the story of a man who tamed a Tiger:-- + +Far away in India, a savage, hungry Tiger, with stealthy steps and a +yellow, striped skin, came padding into a defenceless native village, +to seek for prey. In the early morning he had slunk out of the Jungle, +with soft, cushioned paws that showed no signs of the fierce nails +they concealed. All through the long, hot day he had lain hidden in +the thick reeds by the riverside; but at sunset he grew hungry, and +sprang, with a great bound, up from his hiding-place. Right into the +village itself he came, trampling down the patches of young, green +corn that the villagers had sown, and that were just beginning to +spring up, fresh and green, around the mud walls of their homes. All +the villagers fled away in terror at the first glimpse of the yellow, +striped skin. The fathers and mothers snatched up their brown babies, +the older children ran in front screaming, 'Tiger! Tiger!' Young and +old they all fled away, as fast as ever they could, into the safest +hiding-places near at hand. + +One man alone, a Stranger, did not fly. He remained standing right in +the middle of the Tiger's path, and fearlessly faced the savage beast. +With a howl of rage, the Tiger prepared for a spring. The man showed +no sign of fear. He never moved a muscle. Not an eyelash quivered. +Such unusual behaviour puzzled the Tiger. What could this strange +thing be, that stood quite still in the middle of the path? It could +hardly be a man. Men were always terrified of tigers, and fled +screaming when they approached. The Tiger actually stopped short in +its spring, to gaze upon this perplexing, motionless Being who knew no +fear. There he stood, perfectly silent, perfectly calm, gazing back at +the Tiger with the look of a conqueror. Several long, heavy minutes +passed. At length the villagers, peeping out from their hiding-places, +looking between the broad plantain leaves or through the chinks of +their wooden huts, beheld a miracle. They saw, to their amazement, the +Tiger slink off, sullen and baffled, to the jungle, while the Stranger +remained alone and unharmed in possession of the path. At first they +scarcely dared to believe their eyes. It was only gradually, as they +saw that the Tiger had really departed not to return, that they +ventured to creep back, by twos and threes first of all, and then in +little timid groups, to where the Stranger stood. Then they fell at +his feet and embraced his knees and worshipped him, almost as if he +had been a god. 'Tell us your Magic, Sahib,' they cried, 'this mighty +magic, whereby you have managed to overcome the Monarch of the Jungle +and tame him to your will.' + +'I know no magic,' answered the Stranger, 'I used no spells. I was +able to overcome this savage Tiger only because I have already learned +how to overcome and tame THE TIGER IN MY OWN HEART.' + +That was his secret. That is the story. And now let us return to +George Fox. + +Think of the England he lived in when he was a young man, the +distracted England of the Civil Wars. Think of all the tiger spirits +of hatred that had been unloosed and that were trampling the land. The +whole country lay torn and bleeding. Some bad men there were on both +sides certainly; but the real misery was that many good men on each +side were trying to kill and maim one another, in order that the cause +they believed to be 'the Right' might triumph. + +'Have at you for the King!' cried the Cavaliers, and rushed into the +fiercest battle with a smile. + +'God with us!' shouted back the deep-voiced Puritans. 'For God and the +Liberties of England!' and they too laid down their lives gladly. + +Far away from all the hurly-burly, though in the very middle of the +clash of arms, George Fox, the unknown Leicestershire shepherd lad, +went on his way, unheeded and unheeding. He, too, had to fight; but +his was a lonely battle, in the silence of his own heart. It was there +that he fought and conquered first of all, there that he tamed his own +Tiger at last--more than that, he learned to find God. + +'One day,' he says in his Journal, 'when I had been walking solitarily +abroad and was come home, I was taken up into the love of God, and it +was opened to me by the eternal light and power, and I therein clearly +saw that all was to be done in and by Christ, and how He conquers and +destroys the Devil and all his works and is atop of him.' He means +that he saw that all the outward fighting was really part of one great +battle, and that to be on the right side in that fight is the thing +that matters eternally to every man. + +Another time he writes: 'I saw into that which was without end, things +which cannot be uttered and of the greatness and infiniteness of the +love of God, which cannot be expressed by words, for I had been +brought through the very ocean of darkness and death, and through and +over the power of Satan by the eternal glorious power of Christ; even +through that darkness was I brought which covered over all the world +and shut up all in the death.... And I saw the harvest white and the +seed of God lying thick in the ground, as ever did wheat that was sown +outwardly, and I mourned that there was none to gather it.' + +When George Fox speaks of the 'seed,' he means the tender spot that +there must always be in the hearts of all men, however wicked, since +they are made in the likeness of God. A tiny, tiny something, the +first stirring of life, that God's Spirit can find and work on, +however deeply it may be buried (like a seed under heavy clods of +earth), if men will only yield to It. In another place he calls this +seed 'THAT OF GOD WITHIN YOU.' And it is this tender growing 'seed' +that gets trampled down when fierce angry passions are unloosed in +people's hearts, just as the tender springing corn in the Indian +village was trampled down by the hungry Tiger. George Fox believed +that that seed lay hidden in the hearts of all men, because he had +found it in his own. Everywhere he longed to set that seed free to +grow, and to tame the Tiger spirits that would trample it down and +destroy it. Let us watch and see how he did this. + +One day when he was about twenty-five years old, he heard that some +people had been put in prison at Coventry for the sake of their +religion. He thought that there must be a good crop of seed in the +hearts of those people, since they were willing to suffer for their +faith, so he determined to go and see them. As he was on his way to +the gaol a message came to him from God. He seemed to hear God's own +Voice saying to him, 'MY LOVE WAS ALWAYS TO THEE, AND THOU ART IN MY +LOVE.' 'Always to thee.' Then that love had always been round him, +even in his loneliest struggles, and now that he knew that he was in +it, nothing could really hurt him. No wonder that he walked on towards +the gaol with a feeling of new joy and strength. But when he came to +the dark, frowning prison where numbers of men and women were lying in +sin and misery, this joyfulness left him. He says, 'A great power of +darkness struck at me.' The prisoners were not the sort of people he +had hoped to find them. They were a set of what were then called +'Ranters.' They began to swear and to say wicked things against God. +George Fox sat silent among them, still fastening his mind on the +thought of God's conquering love; but as they went on to say yet +wilder and more wicked things, at last that very love forced him to +reprove them. They paid no attention, and at length Fox was obliged to +leave them. He says he was 'greatly grieved, yet I admired the +goodness of the Lord in appearing so to me, before I went among them.' + +For the time it did seem as if the Tiger spirits had won, and were +able to trample down the living seed. But wait! A little while after, +one of these same prisoners, named Joseph Salmon, wrote a paper +confessing that he was sorry for what he had said and done, whereupon +they were all set at liberty. + +Meanwhile, George Fox went on his way, and travelled through 'markets, +fairs, and divers places, and saw death and darkness everywhere, where +the Lord had not shaken them.' In one place he heard that a great man +lay dying and that his recovery was despaired of by all the doctors. +Some of his friends in the town desired George Fox to visit the +sufferer. 'I went up to him in his chamber,' says Fox in his Journal, +'and spake the word of life to him, and was moved to pray by him, and +the Lord was entreated and restored him to health. When I was come +down the stairs into a lower room and was speaking to the servants, a +serving-man of his came raving out of another room, with a naked +rapier in his hand, and set it just to my side. I looked steadfastly +on him and said "Alack for thee, poor creature! what wilt thou do with +thy carnal weapon, it is no more to me than a straw." The standers-by +were much troubled, and he went away in a rage; but when news came of +it to his master, he turned him out of his service.' + +Although that particular man's Tiger spirit had been foiled in its +spring, the man himself had not been really tamed. Perhaps George Fox +needed to learn more, and to suffer more himself, before he could +really change other men's hearts. If so, he had not long to wait. + +Shortly after this, it was his own turn to be imprisoned. He was shut +up in Derby Gaol, and given into the charge of a very cruel Gaoler. +This man was a strict Puritan, and he hated Fox, and spoke wickedly +against him. He even refused him permission to go and preach to the +people of the town, which, strangely enough, the prisoners in those +days were allowed to do. + +One morning, however, Fox was walking up and down in his cell, when he +heard a doleful noise. He stopped his walk to listen. Through the wall +he could hear the voice of the Gaoler speaking to his wife--'Wife,' he +said, 'I have had a dream. I saw the Day of Judgment, and I saw George +there!' How the listener must have wondered what was coming! 'I saw +George there,' the Gaoler continued, 'and I was afraid of him, because +I had done him so much wrong, and spoken so much against him to the +ministers and professors, and to the Justices and in taverns and +alehouses.' But there the voice stopped, and the prisoner heard no +more. When evening came, however, the Gaoler visited the cell, no +longer raging and storming at his prisoner, but humbled and still. 'I +have been as a lion against you,' he said to Fox, 'but now I come like +a lamb, or like the Gaoler that came to Paul and Silas, trembling.' +He came to ask as a favour that he might spend the night in the same +prison chamber where Fox lay. Fox answered that he was in the Gaoler's +power: the keeper of the prison of course could sleep in any place he +chose. 'No,' answered the Gaoler, 'I wish to have your permission. I +should like to have you always with me, but not as my prisoner.' So +the two strange companions spent that night together lying side by +side. In the quiet hours of darkness the Gaoler told Fox all that was +in his heart. 'I have found that what you said of the true faith and +hope is really true, and I want you to know that even before I had +that terrible vision, whenever I refused to let you go and preach, I +was sorry afterwards when I had treated you roughly, and I had great +trouble of mind.' + +There had been a little seed of kindness even in this rough Gaoler's +heart. Deeply buried though it was, it had been growing in the +darkness all the time, though no one guessed it--the Gaoler himself +perhaps least of all until his dream showed him the truth about +himself. When the night was over and morning light had come, the +Gaoler was determined to do all he could to help his new friend. He +went straight to the Justices and told them that he and all his +household had been plagued because of what they had done to George Fox +the prisoner. + +'Well, we have been plagued too for having him put in prison,' +answered one of the Justices, whose name was Justice Bennett. And here +we must wait a minute, for it is interesting to know that it was this +same Justice Bennett who first gave the name of Quakers to George Fox +and his followers as a nickname, to make fun of them. Fox declared in +his preaching that 'all men should tremble at the word of the Lord,' +whereupon the Justice laughingly said that 'Quakers and Tremblers was +the name for such people.' The Justice might have been much surprised +if he could have known that centuries after, thousands of people all +over the world would still be proud to call themselves by the name he +had given in a moment of mockery. + +Neither Justice Bennett nor his prisoner could guess this, however; +and therefore, although his Gaoler's heart had been changed, George +Fox still lay in Derby Prison. There was more work waiting for him to +do there. + +One day he heard that a soldier wanted to see him, and in there came a +rough trooper, with a story that he was very anxious to tell. 'I was +sitting in Church,' he began. 'Thou meanest in the steeple-house,' +corrected Fox, who was always very sure that a 'Church' meant a +'Company of Christ's faithful people,' and that the mere outward +building where they were gathered should only be called a +steeple-house if it had a steeple, or a meeting-house if it had none. +'Sitting in Church, listening to the Priest,' continued the trooper, +paying no attention to the interruption, 'I was in an exceeding great +trouble, thinking over my sins and wondering what I should do, when a +Voice came to me--I believe it was God's own Voice and it said--"Dost +thou not know that my servant is in prison? Go thou to him for +direction." So I obeyed the Voice,' the man continued, 'and here I +have come to you, and now I want you to tell me what I must do to get +rid of the burden of these sins of mine.' He was like Christian in +_Pilgrim's Progress_, with a load of sins on his back, was he not? And +just as Christian's burden rolled away when he came to the Cross, so +the trooper's distress vanished when Fox spoke to him, and told him +that the same power that had shown him his sins and troubled him for +them, would also show him his salvation, for 'That which shows a man +his sin is the Same that takes it away!' + +Fox did not speak in vain. The trooper 'began to have great +understanding of the Lord's truth and mercyes.' He became a bold man +too, and took his new-found happiness straight back to the other +soldiers in his quarters, and told them of the truths he had learnt in +the prison. He even said that their Colonel--Colonel Barton--was 'as +blind as Nebuchadnezzar, to cast such a true servant of God as Fox +was, into Gaol.' + +Before long this saying came to Colonel Barton's ears, and then there +was a fine to do. Naturally he did not like being compared with +Nebuchadnezzar. Who would? But it would have been undignified for a +Colonel to take any notice then of the soldiers' tittle-tattle; so he +said nothing, only bided his time and waited until he could pay back +his grudge against the sergeant. A whole year he waited--then his +chance came. It was at the Battle of Worcester, when the two armies +were lying close together, but before the actual fighting had begun, +that two soldiers of the King's Army came out and challenged any two +soldiers of the Parliamentary Army to single combat, whereupon Colonel +Barton ordered the soldier who had likened him to Nebuchadnezzar to +go with one other companion on this dangerous errand. They went; they +fought with the two Royalists, and one of the two Parliamentarians was +killed; but it was the other one, not Fox's friend. He, left alone, +with his comrade lying dead by his side, suddenly found that not even +to save his own life could he kill his enemies. So he drove them both +before him back to the town, but he did not fire off his pistol at +them. Then, as soon as Worcester fight was over, he himself returned +and told the whole tale to Fox. He told him 'how the Lord had +miraculously preserved him,' and said also that now he had 'seen the +deceit and hypocrisy of the officers he had seen also to the end of +Fighting.' Whereupon he straightway laid down his arms. + +The trooper left the army. Meanwhile his friend and teacher had +suffered for refusing to join it. We must go back a little to the +time, some months before the Battle of Worcester, when the original +term of Fox's imprisonment in the House of Correction in Derby was +drawing to a close. + +At this time many new soldiers were being raised for the Parliamentary +Army, and among them the authorities were anxious to include their +stalwart prisoner, George Fox. Accordingly the Gaoler was asked to +bring his charge out to the market-place, and there, before the +assembled Commissioners and soldiers, Fox was offered a good position +in the army if he would take up arms for the Commonwealth against +Charles Stuart. The officers could not understand why George Fox +should refuse to regain his liberty on what seemed to them to be such +easy terms. 'Surely,' they said, 'a strong, big-boned man like you +will be not only willing but eager to take up arms against the +oppressor and abuser of the liberties of the people of England!' + +Fox persisted in his refusal. 'I told them,' he writes in his Journal, +'that I knew whence all wars arose, even from men's lusts ... and that +I lived in the virtue of that life and power that took away the +occasion of all wars. Yet they courted me to accept their offer, and +thought I did but compliment them. But I told them I was come into +that covenant of peace which was before wars and strifes were. They +said they offered it in love and kindness to me, because for my +virtue, and such like flattering words they used. But I told them if +that was their love and kindness, I trampled it under my feet. Then +their rage got up, and they said, "Take him away, Gaoler, and put him +into the prison among the rogues and thieves."' + +This prison was a much worse place than the House of Correction where +Fox had been confined hitherto. In it he was obliged to remain for a +weary half-year longer, knowing all the time that he might have been +at liberty, could he have consented to become an officer in the army. +His relations, distressed at his imprisonment, had already offered +L100 for his release, but Fox would not accept the pardon this sum +might have obtained for him as he said he had done nothing wrong. He +was occasionally allowed to leave the horrible, dirty gaol, with its +loathsome insects and wicked companions, and walk for a short time in +the garden by himself, because his keepers knew that when he had given +his word he would not try to escape from their custody. + +As time went on, many dismal people (looking on the gloomy side of +things, as dismal people always do) began to shake their heads and +say, 'Poor young man, he will spend all his life in gaol. You will see +he will never be set free or get his liberty again.' But Fox refused +to be cast down. Narrow though his prison was, Hope shared it with +him. 'I had faith in God,' his Journal says, 'that I should be +delivered from that place in the Lord's time, but not yet, being set +there for a work He had for me to do!' Work there was for him in +prison truly. A young woman prisoner who had robbed her master was +sentenced to be hanged, according to the barbarous law then in force. +This shocked Fox so much that he wrote letters to her judges and to +the men who were to have been her executioners, expressing his horror +at what was going to happen in such strong language that he actually +softened their hearts. Although the girl had actually reached the foot +of the gallows, and her grave had already been dug, she was reprieved. +Then, when she was brought back into prison again after this wonderful +escape Fox was able to pour light and life into her soul, which was an +even greater thing than saving her body from death. Many other +prisoners did Fox help and comfort in Derby Gaol;[2] but though he +could soften the sufferings of others he could not shorten his own. +Once again Justice Bennett sent his men to the prison, this time with +orders to take the Quaker by force and compel him to join the army, +since he would not fight of his own free will. + +'But I told him,' said Fox, '"that I was brought off from outward +wars." They came again to give me press money, but I would take none. +Afterwards the Constables brought me a second time before the +Commissioners, who said I should go for a soldier, but I said I was +dead to it. They said I was alive. I told them where envy and hatred +is, there is confusion. They offered me money twice, but I refused it. +Being disappointed, they were angry, and committed me a close +prisoner, till at length they were made to turn me out of Gaol about +the beginning of winter 1651, after I had been a prisoner in Derby +almost a year; six months in the House of Correction, and six months +in the common gaol.' + +Thus at length Derby prison was left behind; but the seeds that the +prisoner had planted in that dark place sprang up and flourished and +bore fruit long after he had left. + +Eleven years later, the very same Gaoler, who had been cruel to Fox at +the first, and had then had the vision and repented, wrote this letter +to his former prisoner. It is a real Gaoler's love-letter, and quite +fresh to-day, though it was written nearly 300 years ago. + + 'DEAR FRIEND,' the letter begins, + + 'Having such a convenient messenger I could do no less than give + thee an account of my present condition; remembering that to the + first awakening of me to a sense of life, God was pleased to + make use of thee as an instrument. So that sometimes I am taken + with admiration that it should come by such means as it did; + that is to say that Providence should order thee to be my + prisoner to give me my first sight of the truth. It makes me + think of the gaoler's conversion by the apostles. Oh! happy + George Fox! that first breathed the breath of life within the + walls of my habitation! Notwithstanding that my outward losses + are since that time such that I am become nothing in the world, + yet I hope I shall find that these light afflictions, which are + but for a moment, will work for me a far more exceeding and + eternal weight of glory. They have taken all from me; and now + instead of keeping a prison, I am waiting rather when I shall + become a prisoner myself. Pray for me that my faith fail not, + and that I may hold out to the death, that I may receive a crown + of life. I earnestly desire to hear from thee and of thy + condition, which would very much rejoice me. Not having else at + present, but my kind love to thee and all friends, in haste, I + rest thine in Christ Jesus. + + 'THOMAS SHARMAN. + +'Derby, the 22nd of the fourth month, 1662.' + + +This Gaoler was one of the first people whose Tiger spirits were tamed +by George Fox. But he certainly was not the last. Fox himself had told +the soldiers in Derby market-place that he could not fight, because he +'lived in the virtue of that life and power that took away the +occasion of all wars.' As a friend of his wrote, after his death many +years later: 'George Fox was a discerner of other men's spirits, AND +VERY MUCH A MASTER OF HIS OWN.' + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[2] Two men who were executed for small offences he could not save, +but 'a little time after they had suffered their spirits appeared to +me as I was walking, and I saw the men was well.' + + + + +V. 'THE MAN IN LEATHER BREECHES' + + + + + _'As I was walking I heard old + people and work people to say: "he + is such a man as never was, he + knows people's thoughts" for I + turned them to the divine light of + Christ and His spirit let them see + ... that there was the first step + to peace to stand still in the + light that showed them their sin + and transgression.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'Do not look at but keep over all + unnaturalness, if any such thing + should appear, but keep in that + which was and is and will be.'--G. + FOX._ + + + _'Wait patiently upon the Lord; + let every man that loves God, + endeavour by the spirit of wisdom, + meekness, and love to dry up + Euphrates, even this spirit of + bitterness that like a great river + hath overflowed the earth of + mankind.'--GERRARD WINSTANLEY. + 1648._ + + + _'Blessed is he who loves Thee, + and his friend in Thee, and his + enemy for Thy sake.'--AUGUSTINE._ + + + _'Eternity is just the real world + for which we were made, and which + we enter through the door of + love.'--RUFUS M. JONES._ + + + + +V. 'THE MAN IN LEATHER BREECHES' + + +22nd Dec. 1651. + +'Rough Moll, the worst-tempered woman in all Yorkshire.' It was thus +her neighbours were wont to speak behind her back of Mistress Moll, +the keeper of the 'George and Dragon' Inn at Hutton Cranswick near +Driffield in the East Riding. Never a good word or a kind deed had she +for anyone, since her husband had been called away to serve in King +Charles's army. In former days, when mine host was at home, the +neighbours had been encouraged to come early and stay late at night +gossipping over the home-brewed ale he fetched for them so cheerily; +for Moll's husband was an open-hearted, pleasant-mannered man, the +very opposite of his shrewish wife. But now, since his departure for +the wars, the neighbours got to the bottom of their mugs with as +little delay as possible, vowing to themselves in whispers that they +would seek refuge elsewhere another night, since Moll's sour looks +went near to give a flavour of vinegar even to the ale she brewed. +Thus, as speedily as might be, they escaped from the reach of their +hostess's sharp tongue. + +But the lasses of the inn, who were kept to do the rough work of the +house, found it harder to escape from the harsh rule of their +mistress. And for little Jan, Moll's four-year-old son, there was +still less possibility of escape from the tyrant whom he called by the +name of Mother. + +Nothing of true mother-love had ever yet been kindled in Rough Moll's +heart. From the very beginning she had fiercely resented being +burdened with what she called 'the plague of a brat.' Still, so long +as his father remained at home, the child's life had not been an +unhappy one. As soon as ever he could stand alone he drew himself up +by his father's trousers, with an outstretched hand to be grasped in +the big fist. As soon as he could toddle, he spent his days wandering +round the Inn after his daddy, knowing that directly he grew tired +daddy would be ready to stop whatever he might be doing, in order to +lift the small boy up in his arms or to give him a ride on his knee. + +'Wasting your time over the brat and leaving the Tavern to go to rack +and ruin'--Moll would say, with a sneer, as she passed them. But she +never interfered; for the husband who had courted her when she was a +young girl was the only person for whom she still kept a soft spot in +the heart that of late years seemed to have grown so hard. + +Truth to tell, tavern-keeping was no easy business in those unsettled +times, and Moll had ever been a famous body for worrying over trifles. + + '"The worry cow + Would have lived till now, + If she had not lost her breath, + But she thought her hay + Would not last the day, + So she mooed herself to death." + +'And all the time she had three sacks full! Remember that, Moll, my +lass!' Jan's father would say to his wife, when she began to pour out +to him her dismal forebodings about the future. + +But since this easy-going, jolly daddy had left the Inn and had gone +away with the other men and lads of the village to fight with My Lord +for the King, little Jan's lot was a hard one, and seemed likely to +grow harder day by day. + +Rough Moll's own life was not too easy either, at this time, though +few folks troubled themselves to speculate upon the reason for her +added gruffness. So she concealed her anxieties under an extra +harshness of tongue and did her best to make life a burden to everyone +she came across. For, naturally, now that the Inn was no longer a +pleasant place in mine host's absence, it was no longer a profitable +place either. Custom was falling off and quarter day was fast +approaching. Moll was at her wits' end to know where she should find +money to pay her rent, when, one day, to her unspeakable relief, My +Lady in her coach stopped at the door of the Inn. Now Moll had been +dairymaid up at the Hall years ago, before her marriage, and My Lady +knew of old that Moll's butter was as sweet as her looks were sour. +Perhaps she guessed, also, at some of the other woman's anxieties; for +was not her own husband, My Lord, away at the wars too? Anyway, when +the fine yellow coach stopped at the door of the Inn, it was My Lady's +own head with the golden ringlets that leaned out of the window, and +My Lady's own soft voice that asked if her old dairymaid could +possibly oblige her with no less than thirty pounds of butter for her +Yuletide feast to the villagers the following week. + +The Moll who came out, smiling and flattered, to the Inn door and +stood there curtseying very low to her Ladyship, was a different being +from the Rough Moll of every day. She promised, with her very +smoothest tongue, she would not fail. She knew where to get the milk, +and her Ladyship should have the butter, full weight and the very +best, by the following evening, which would leave two full days before +Christmas. + +'That is settled then, for I have never known you to fail me,' said My +Lady, as the coach drove away, leaving Moll curtseying behind her, and +vowing again that 'let come what would come,' she would not fail. + +It was small wonder, therefore, after this unaccustomed graciousness, +that she was shorter-tempered than ever with her unfortunate guests +that evening. Was not their presence hindering her from getting on +with her task? At length she left the lasses to serve the ale, which, +truth to tell, they were nothing loath to do, while Moll herself, in +her wooden shoes and with her skirts tucked up all round her, +clattered in and out of the dairy where already a goodly row of large +basins stood full to the brim with rich yellow milk on which, even +now, the cream was fast rising. + +Thirty pounds of butter could never all be made in one day; she must +begin her task overnight. True, little Jan was whining to go to bed as +he tried vainly to keep awake on his small hard stool by the fire. The +brat must wait; she could not attend to him now. He could sleep well +enough leaning against the bricks of the chimney-corner. Or, no! the +butter-making would take a long time, and Moll was never a methodical +woman. Jan should lie down, just as he was, and have a nap in the +kitchen until she was ready to attend to him. Roughly, but not +unkindly, she pulled him off the stool and laid him down on a rug in a +dark corner of the kitchen and told him to be off to sleep as fast as +he could, stooping to cover him with an old coat of her husband's +that was hanging on the door, as she spoke. Nothing loath, Jan shut +his sleepy eyes, and, burying his little nose in the folds of the old +coat, he went happily off into dreamland, soothed by the +well-remembered out-door smell that always clung around his father's +belongings. + +It did not take Moll long to fill the churn and to set it in its +place. Just as she was busy shutting down the lid, there came a knock +at the door. 'Plague take you, Stranger,' she grumbled, as she opened +it, and a gust of snow and wind blew in upon her and the assembled +guests in the tavern kitchen. 'You bring in more of the storm than you +are likely to pay for your ale.' + +'My desire is not for ale,' said the Stranger, speaking slowly, and +looking at the woman keenly from underneath his shaggy eyebrows. 'I +came but to ask thee for shelter from the storm; and for a little +meat, if thou hast any to set before me.' + +'To ask _thee_ for shelter.' 'If _thou_ hast any meat.' The unusual +form of address caught Moll's ear. She looked more closely at her +visitor. Yes, his lower limbs were not covered with homely Yorkshire +frieze; they were encased in odd garments that must surely be made of +leather, since the snowflakes lay upon them in crisp wreaths and +wrinkles before they melted. She had heard of the strange being who +was visiting those parts and she had no desire to make his +acquaintance. 'Hey, lasses!' she called to her maids at the far end of +the tavern parlour, 'here is the man in leather breeches himself, come +to pay us a visit this wild night!' + +A shout of laughter went up from the men at their tankards. 'The man +in leather breeches!' 'Send him out again into the storm! We'll have +none of his company here, the spoil sport!' + +Moll nodded assent, and returning to her unwelcome guest, said +shortly, 'Meat there is none for you here,' and moved towards the +door, where the Stranger still stood, as if to close it upon him. + +But the man was not to be so easily dismissed. + +'Hast thou then milk?' he asked. + +Moll laughed aloud. A man who did not want ale should not have milk; +no money to be made out of that; especially this night of all nights, +when every drop would be wanted for her Ladyship's butter. + +Lies were part of Moll's regular stock-in-trade. She lied now, with +the ease of long habit. + +'You will get no shelter here,' she said roughly, 'and as for milk, +there is not a drop in the house.' + +The Stranger looked at her. He spoke no words for a full minute, but +as his eyes pierced her through and through, she knew that he knew +that she had lied. The knowledge made her angry. She repeated her +words with an oath. The Stranger made as if to turn away; then, almost +reluctantly but very tenderly, as if he were being drawn back in spite +of himself: 'Hast thou then cream?' he asked. Yet, though his tone was +persuasive, his brows were knitted as he stood looking down upon the +angry woman. + +'Not as if he cared about the cream, but as if he cared about me,' +Moll said herself, long after. But at the time: 'No, nor cream either. +On my soul, there is not a drop in the house,' she repeated, more +fiercely than before. + +But, even as she spoke, she saw that the Stranger's eyes were +fastened on the churn that stood behind her, the churn evidently full +and drawn out for use, with drops of rich yellow cream still standing +upon the lid and trickling down the sides. + +Moll turned her square shoulders upon the churn as if to shut out its +witness to her falsehood. Her lies came thick and fast; 'I tell you +there is not a single drop of cream in the house.' + +The next moment, a loud crash made her look round. She had forgotten +Jan! The loud angry voice and the cold blast from the open door had +awakened him before he had had time to get sound asleep. Hearing his +mother vow that she had not a drop of cream in the house, he left his +rug and began playing about again. Then, being ever a restless little +mortal, he had crept round to the churn to see if it had really become +empty in such a short time. He had tried to pull himself up by one of +the legs in order to stand on the rim and see if there was really no +cream inside; and in attempting this feat, naturally, he had pulled +the whole churn over upon him. And not only the churn,--its contents +too! Eighteen quarts of Moll's richest yellow cream were streaming all +over the kitchen floor. Pools, lakes, rivers, seas of cream were +running over the flagstones and dripping through the crevices into the +ground. + +With a cry of rage Moll turned, and, seeing the damage, she sprang +upon little Jan and beat him soundly; and a beating from Moll's heavy +hand was no small matter: then with a curse she flung the child away +from her towards the hearth. + +'Woman!' The Stranger's voice recalled her. 'Woman! Beware! Thou art +full of lies and fury and deceit, yet in the name of the Lord I warn +thee. Ere three days have gone by, thou shalt know what is in thine +heart; and thou shalt learn the power of that which was, and is, and +will be!' + +So saying, the unwelcome guest opened the outer door and walked away +into the raging storm and darkness,--a less bitter storm it seemed to +him now than that created by the violent woman within doors. Some way +further on he espied a haystack, under which he lay down, as he had +done on many another night before this, and there he slept in the wind +and the snow until morning. + +Moll, meanwhile, enraged beyond words at the loss of her cream, +stalked off for a pail and cloth, and set herself to wash the floor, +muttering curses as she did so. Never a glance did she cast at the +corner by the fire where little Jan still lay by the hearth-stone, +motionless and strangely quiet; he, the restless imp, who was usually +so full of life. Never a glance, until, the centre of the floor being +at last clean again, Moll, on her knees, came with her pail of +soap-suds to the white river that surrounded the corner of the kitchen +where Jan lay. A white river? Nay, there was a crimson river that +mingled with it; a stream of crimson drops that flowed from the stone +under the child's head. + +Moll leapt to her feet on the instant. What ailed the boy? She had +beaten him, it is true, but then she had beaten him often before this +in his father's absence. A beating was nothing new to little Jan. Why +had he fallen? What made him lie so still? She turned him over. Ah! it +was easy to see the reason. As she flung him from her in her rage, +the child in his fall had struck his head against the sharp edge of +the hearth-stone, and there he lay now, with the life-blood steadily +flowing from his temple. + +A feeling that Rough Moll had never been conscious of before gripped +her heart at the sight. Was her boy dead? Had she killed him? What +would his father say? What would her husband call her? A murderer? Was +she that? Was that what the Stranger had meant when he had looked at +her with those piercing eyes? He might have called her a liar, at the +sight of the churn full of cream, but he had not done so; and little +she would have cared if he had. But a murderer! Was murder in her +heart? + +Lifting Jan as carefully as she could, she carried him upstairs to the +small bedroom under the roof, where he usually lay on a tiny pallet by +her side. But this night the child's small figure lay in the wide bed, +and big Moll, with all her clothes on, hung over him; or if she lay +down for a moment or two, it was only on the hard little pallet by his +side. + +All that night Moll watched. But all that night Jan never moved. All +the next day he lay unconscious, while Moll did her clumsy utmost to +staunch the wound in his forehead. Long before it was light, she tried +to send one of her maids for the doctor; but the storm was now so +violent that none could leave or enter the house. + +Her Ladyship's order went unheeded. The thirty pounds of butter were +never made. But My Lady, who was a mother herself, not only forgave +Moll for spoiling her Yuletide festivities, but even told her, when +she heard of the disaster, that she need not trouble about the rent +until her boy was better. + +Until he was better! But would Jan ever be better? Moll had no thought +now for either the butter or the rent. The yellow cream might turn +sour in every single one of her pans for all she cared, if only she +could get rid of this new unbearable pain. + +At length, on the evening of the second day, faint with the want of +sleep, she fell into an uneasy doze: and still Jan had neither moved +nor stirred. Presently a faint sound woke her. Was he calling? No; it +was but the Christmas bells ringing across the snow. What were those +bells saying? 'MUR-DER-ER' 'MUR-DERER'--was that it? Over and over +again. Did even the bells know what she had done and what she had in +her heart? For a moment black despair seized her. + +The next moment there followed the shuffling sound of many feet +padding through the snow. The storm had ceased by this time, and all +the world was wrapped in a white silence, broken only by the sound of +the distant bells. And now the Christmas waits had followed the bells' +music, and were singing carols outside the ale-house door. Fiercely, +Moll stuck her fingers in her ears. She would not listen, lest even +the waits should sing of her sin, and shew her the blackness of her +heart. But the song stole up into the room, and, in spite of herself, +something forced Moll to attend to the words: + + 'Babe Jesus lay in Mary's lap, + The sun shone on his hair-- + And that was how she saw, mayhap, + The crown already there.' + +That was how good mothers sang to their children. They saw crowns +upon their hair. What sort of a crown had Moll given to her child? She +looked across and saw the chaplet of white bandages lying on the white +pillow. No; she, Moll, had never been a good mother, would never be +one now, unless her boy came back to life again. She was a murderer, +and her husband when he returned from the wars would tell her so, and +little Jan would never know that his mother had a heart after all. + +At that moment the carol died away, and the waits' feet, heavy with +clinging snow, shuffled off into the darkness; but looking down again +at the head with its crown of white bandages upon the white pillow, +Moll saw that this time Jan's eyes were open and shining up at her. + +'Mother,' he said, in his little weak voice, as he opened his arms and +smiled. Moll had seen him smile like that at his father; she had never +known before that she wanted to share that smile. She knew it now. + +Only three short days had passed since she turned the Stranger from +her doors, but little Jan and his mother entered a new world of love +and tenderness together that Christmas morning. As Rough Moll gathered +her little son up into her arms and held him closely to her breast, +she knew for the first time the power of 'that which was, and is, and +will be.' + + + + +VI. THE SHEPHERD OF PENDLE HILL + + + + + _'On Pendle G.F. saw people as + thick as motes in the sun, that + should in time be brought home to + the Lord, that there might be but + one Shepherd and one Sheepfold in + all the earth. There his eye was + directed Northward beholding a + great people that should receive + him and his message in those + parts.'--W. PENN'S Testimony to + George Fox._ + + + _'In Adam, in the fall are all the + inward foul weather, storms, + tempests, winds, strifes, the + whole family of it is in + confusion, being all gone from the + spirit and witness of God in + themselves, and the power and the + light, in which power and light + and spirit, is the fellowship with + God and with one another, through + which they come ... into the + quickener, who awakens (them) and + brings (them) up unto Himself, the + way, Christ; and out of and off + from the teachers and priests, and + shepherds that change and fall, to + the PRIEST, SHEPHERD and PROPHET, + that never fell or changed, nor + ever will fail or change, nor + leave the flock in the cold + weather nor in the winter, nor in + storms or tempests; nor doth the + voice of the wolf frighten him + from his flock. For the Light, the + Power, the Truth, the + Righteousness, did it ever leave + you in any weather, or in any + storms or tempests? And so his + sheep know his voice and follow + Him, who gives them life eternal + abundantly.'--GEORGE FOX._ + + + + +VI. THE SHEPHERD OF PENDLE HILL + + +'Ingleborough, Pendle and Pen-y-Ghent Are the highest hills 'twixt +Scotland and Trent.' So sing I, the Shepherd of Pendle, to myself, and +so have I sung, on summer days, these many years, lying out atop of +old Pendle Hill, keeping watch over my flock. + +In good sooth, a shepherd's life is a hard one, on our Lancashire +fells, for nine months out of the twelve. The nights begin to be sharp +with frost towards the back-end of the year, for all the days are +sunny and warm at times. Bitter cold it is in winter and worse in +spring, albeit the daylight is longer. + +'As the day lengthens, so the cold strengthens,' runs the rhyme, and +well do men know the truth of it in these parts. Many a time a man +must be ready to give his own life for his sheep, aye and do it too, +to save them in a snow-drift or from the biting frost. It is an +anxious season for the shepherd, until he sees the lambs safely at +play and able to stand upon their weak legs and run after their +mothers. But it is not until the dams are clipped that a shepherd has +an easy mind and can let his thoughts dwell on other things. Then, at +last, in the summer, his time runs gently for a while; and I, for one, +was always ready to enjoy myself, when once the bitter weather was +over. + +So there I was, one day many years ago, nigh upon Midsummer, lying out +on the grassy slopes atop of old Pendle Hill, and singing to myself-- + + 'Ingleborough, Pendle and Pen-y-Ghent + Are the highest hills 'twixt Scotland and Trent.' + +But for all I sang of the hills, my thoughts were in the valleys. I +lay there, watching till the sun should catch the steep roof of a +certain cot I know. It stands by the side of a stream, so hidden among +the bushes that even my eye cannot find it, unless the sunlight finds +it first, and flashes back at me from roof and window-pane. That was +the cot I had never lived in then, but I hoped to live in it before +the summer was over, and to bring the bonniest lass in all yon broad +Yorkshire there with me as my bride. That was to be if things went +well with me and with the sheep; for my master had promised to give me +a full wage (seeing I had now reached man's estate), if so be I came +through the spring and early summer without losing a single lamb. +Thinking of these things, and dreaming dreams as a lad will, the hours +trod swiftly over Pendle Hill that day; for all the sun was going down +the sky but slowly, seeing it was Midsummer-tide. + +Suddenly, as I lay there looking down over the slope, I saw a strange +sight, for travellers are scarce on Pendle Hill even at Midsummer. But +it was a traveller surely, or was it a shepherd? At first I could not +be sure; for he carried a lamb in his arms and trod warily with it, in +the way that shepherds do. Yet I never met a shepherd clad in clothes +like his; nor with a face like his either, as I saw it, when he came +nearer. Weary he looked, and with a pale countenance, as if he had +much ado to come up the hill, and in good sooth 'tis full steep just +there; or else, may be, he was fasting and faint for lack of food. But +all this I only thought of later. At the time, I looked not much at +him, but only at the lamb he carried in his arms. How came such a +man to be carrying a lamb, and carrying it full gently and carefully +too, supporting one leg with both hands, although he was encumbered +with a staff? Then, when he had come yet nearer, I saw that it was not +only a lamb--it was one of my master's lambs, my own lambs that I was +set to watch; for there on its wool was the brand carried by our +flocks and by none others on all those fells. One of my lambs, lying +in a stranger's arms! A careless shepherd I! I must have been asleep +or dreaming ... dreaming foolish dreams about that cottage, on which +the sun might shine unheeded now, I cared not for it, being full of +other thoughts. No sooner did I espy the brand on the lamb than I rose +to my feet, and, even as I ran nimbly down the slope towards the +stranger, my eyes roamed over the hillside to discover which of my +lambs had strayed:--Rosamond, Cowslip, Eglantine and Gillyflower--I +could see them all safe with their dams, and many more besides. All +the lambs that springtime I had named after the flowers that I hoped +to plant another year in the garden of that cot beside the stream. And +all the flowers I could see and name were safe beside their dams, as I +leapt down the hillside. Nay, Periwinkle was missing! Periwinkle was +ever a strayer, and Periwinkle's dam was bleating at the edge of the +steep cliff up which the stranger toiled. It was Periwinkle and none +other that he was carrying in his arms! Seeing it was Periwinkle, I +halloed to him to halt. Hearing my cry, he stopped, and waited till I +reached him, all the time holding the lamb carefully, tending it and +speaking to it in the tone a shepherd is wont to use. + +[Illustration: 'DREAMING OF THE COT IN THE VALE'] + +'Thanks to you, Good Stranger,' I said, as I came nearer, 'Periwinkle +is ever a strayer. Did you see her fall?' + +'Nay,' said the Stranger, giving the lamb tenderly into my arms, and +halting upon his staff; speaking warily and weightily as I never heard +a man speak before or since. 'Nay; the lambkin must have fallen before +I came by. But I heard the mother bleat, and I knew, by the sound, +that she was in distress. Therefore I turned towards the crag upon +which she stood, and, looking down, I perceived the lamb fallen among +the brambles beneath a high ledge.' + +'And went down over for her yourself and brought her up again! 'Twas +bravely done, Good Stranger,' I answered, and then, thinking to +encourage him, I said, 'Better you could not have done it, had you +been a shepherd yourself, for I see your hands are torn.' + +'It is nothing,' he answered. 'A shepherd expects that.' + +'Then are you a shepherd too, Master Stranger?' I asked, but he gave +no answer; only fastened his eyes upon me as we climbed together up +the hill. Wonderful eyes he had, not like to other men's; with a depth +and yet a light in them, as when the June sun shines back reflected +from the blackness of a mountain tarn. I saw them then, and still I +seem to see them, for when he looked at me, although he said no word, +it was as if he knew me apart from everyone else in the world, even as +I know every one of my master's sheep. I felt that he knew too how I +had been looking at that cot in the vale and dreaming idly, forgetful +of my lambs. Therefore, though he said no word of rebuke to me, I +felt my cheeks grow hot, and I hung my head and spake not. Only, when +we reached the top of the hill, he turned and answered me at last. +'Thou judgest right, friend,' he said, 'I was indeed a shepherd in my +young years. I am a shepherd even now, though as yet with full few +sheep. But, hereafter, it may be....' + +I did not wait for the end of his sentence. Now that we were come to +level ground I was fain to show that I was not a careless, idle +shepherd in truth. My mind was set on Periwinkle's leg; broken, I +feared, for it hung down limply. I took her,--laid her on the grass +beside her dam while I fashioned a rough splint, shepherd-fashion, to +keep the leg steady till we reached the fold. Then, seeing the sun was +low by this time and nigh to setting over beyond the sea towards +Morecambe, I called my sheep and gathered them from all the fells, +near and far; and a fairer flock of sheep ye shall never see 'twixt +Scotland and Trent, as the song says, though I trow ye may, an ye look +carefully, find steeper hills than old Pendle. + +When my work was done, I took up Periwinkle in my arms once more, +anxious to descend with her ere night fell. Already I was climbing +carefully down the slope, when, bless me, I remembered the Stranger, +and that I had left him without a word, he having gone clean out of my +mind, and I not having given him so much as a 'thank ye' at parting, +for all he had saved Periwinkle. But I think I must have gone clean +out of his mind too. + +When I came back to him once more, there he was, still standing on the +very top of the hill, where I had left him. But now his head was +raised, the breeze lifted his hair. A kind of glory was on him. It +was light from the sunset sky, I thought at first; but it was brighter +far than that; for the sunset sky looked dull and dim beside it. His +eyes were roaming far and wide over the valleys and hills, even as my +eyes had wandered, when I was gathering my sheep. But his eyes +wandered further, and further far, till they reached the utmost line +of the Irish Sea to westward and covered all the country that lay +between. Then he turned himself around to the east again. A strong man +he was and a tall, and the glory was still on his face, though now he +had the sunset sky at his back. And he opened his mouth and spake. +Strange were his words: + +'If but one man,' said he, 'but one man or woman, were raised by the +Lord's Power to stand and live in the same Spirit that the Apostles +and Prophets were in, he or she should shake all this country for +miles round.' Shake all the country! He had uttered a fearsome thing. +'Nay, Master Stranger, bethink ye,' I said, going up to him, 'how may +that be? What would happen to me and the sheep were these fells to +shake? Even now, though they stand steady, you have seen that wayward +lambs like Periwinkle will fall over and do themselves a mischief.' So +I spake, being but a witless lad. But my words might have been the +wind passing by him, so little he heeded them. I doubt if he even +heard or knew that I was there although I stood close at his side. For +again his eyes were resting on the Irish Sea, and on the country that +lay shining in the sun towards Furness, and on the wide, glistening +sands round Morecambe Bay. And then he turned himself round to the +north where lie the high mountains that can at times be seen, or +guessed, in the glow of the setting sun. Thus, as he gazed on all that +fair land, the Stranger spoke. Again he uttered strange words. + +At first his voice was low and what he said reached me not, save only +the words: 'A great people, a great people to be gathered.' + +Whereat I, being, as I say, but a lad then, full of my own notions and +mighty sure of myself as young lads are, plucked at his sleeve, having +heard but the last words, and supposing that he had watched me +gathering my flock for the fold. + +'Not people, Master Stranger,' I interrupted. ''Tis my business to +gather sheep. Sheep and silly, heedless lambs like Periwinkle, 'tis +them I must gather for my master's fold.' + +He saw and heard me then, full surely. + +'Aye,' he said, and his voice, though deep, had music in it, while his +eyes pierced me yet again, but more gently this time, so that I made +sure he had seen me tending Periwinkle and knew that I had done the +best I could. 'Aye, verily thou dost well. Shepherd of Pendle, to +gather lambs and silly sheep for their master's fold. I, too....' But +there again he broke off and fell once more into silence. + +Thus I left him, still standing atop of the hill; but as I turned to +go I heard his voice yet again, and though I looked not round, the +sound of it was as if a man were speaking to his friend, for all I +knew that he stood there, atop of the hill, alone: + +'I thank thee, Lord, that Thou hast let me see this day in what places +Thou hast a great people, a great people to be gathered.' + +Thereat I partly understood, yet turned not back again, nor sought to +enquire further of his meaning; for the daylight was fast fading and I +had need of all my skill in getting home my sheep. + + + + +VII. THE PEOPLE IN WHITE RAIMENT + + + + + _'After a while he (G.F.) + travelled up further towards the + dales in Yorkshire, as Wensdale, + and Sedburgh, and amongst the + hills, dales, and mountains he + came on and convinced many of the + eternal Truth.'--M. FOX'S + Testimony to G. FOX._ + + + _'In the mighty power of God, go + on, preaching the Gospel to every + creature, and discipling them in + the name of the Father, Son, and + Holy Spirit. In the name of Christ + preach the mighty day of the Lord + to all the consciences of them who + have long lain in darkness.... In + the name of the Lord Jesus Christ + go on, that that of God in all + consciences may witness that ye + are sent of God and are of God and + so according to that speak. Sound, + sound the trumpet abroad, ye + valiant soldiers of Christ's + Kingdom, of which there is no + end.... Be famous in his Light and + bold in his strength.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'Let us in our message offer that + which is beyond all creeds,--the + evidence in our lives of communion + with the Spirit of God.'--J. W. + ROWNTREE._ + + + + +VII. THE PEOPLE IN WHITE RAIMENT + + +The summer twilight was fading into night. The moon, hidden at her +rising by a bank of clouds, had now climbed high above them, and shone +down, a golden lamp from the clear evening sky. It was already dusk +when the Shepherd of Pendle disappeared with his flock into the dewy +valley. It was already light again, with the pallid light of the moon, +when at length George Fox descended old Pendle Hill. Heavily he trod +and slowly. Wrapped in thought was he, as a man who has seen things +greater and more mysterious than he can express or comprehend. Only as +he descended the slope of the hill did he remember that he was bodily +weary, having eaten and drunk little for several days. A short +distance from the summit, his ear caught the tinkle of falling water; +and guided by its gentle music he came to where a tiny spring gushed +out of the hillside, and went leaping on its way, gleaming like a +thread of silver. Fox knelt down upon the soft turf, and dipping his +hand, cup-wise, into the water, he carried with difficulty a few +shining drops to his parched lips. The cool freshness of even this +scanty draught revived him. He looked round, his glance roaming over +the wide landscape that lay, mist-filled and moon-filled, beneath him, +but as yet scarce seeing what he saw. Then, rising and quickening his +steps, he hastened down the hill to the place where, hours before, his +companion, Richard Farnsworth, had promised to await his return. + +Even faithful Richard had grown weary, as time passed and the night +drew on apace. He had been minded to chide his friend for his +forgetfulness and long delay, but as the two men met, something +stopped him, or ever he began to speak. Maybe it was the moonlight +that fell full upon George Fox's countenance, or maybe there was in +truth visible there some faint reflection of the radiance that +transfigured the face of Moses, when he too, coming down from a far +mightier revelation on a far loftier mountain, 'wist not that the skin +of his face shone.' + +At any rate Richard, loyal soul, checked the impatient words of +remonstrance that had risen to his lips. Silently putting his hand +through his friend's arm, he led him a mile or two further along the +road, until they came to the small wayside inn where they intended to +spend the night. + +No sooner were they within doors than Richard was startled afresh by +the pallor of his companion's countenance. The glory had departed now. +Nothing but utter weariness remained. In all haste Richard called for +food and drink, and placing them before Fox he almost forced him to +partake. Fox swallowed a few mouthfuls of bread, and drank a little +clear red wine in a glass. Then as he set the glass down, he noticed +the inn-keeper who was standing by, watching his guest's every +movement with curious eyes. + +A rough, plain countryman, he seemed, mine host of the ale-house, to +most of those who had dealings with him. But Fox, in spite of his own +bodily hunger and physical weariness, discerned that the spirit of the +man before him knew the cravings of a yet keener need: was fainting +under the weight of a yet heavier load. Instantly he recognised the +seeking soul within, even as the Shepherd of Pendle a few hours +previously, out on the hillside, had recognised his master's mark on +the straying sheep. Forgetting his own weariness, even for the time +putting aside the remembrance of the visions he had seen, he set +himself to win and satisfy this humble soul at his side. + +'I declared Truth to the man of the house,' so runs his Journal, 'and +wrote a paper to the priests and professors declaring "the day of the +Lord and that Christ was come to teach His people Himself, by His +power and spirit in their hearts, and to bring people off from all the +world's ways and teaching, to His own free teaching who had bought +them, and was the Saviour of all them that believed in Him." And the +man of the house did spread the paper up and down and was mightily +affected with Truth!' + +The inn-keeper went out full of gladness to 'publish Truth' in his +turn. Henceforth he was a new man in the power of the new message that +had been entrusted to him. A new life lay before him. + +But when the two friends were once more alone together, and the +immediate task was done, Richard Farnsworth perceived the strange look +that had silenced him at the foot of the mountain returning to his +companion's face. Only now the weariness was fading, it was the glory +that returned. + +Pushing away the table, George Fox rose to his feet, and stretched +both his arms out wide. He and Farnsworth were alone in the narrow inn +parlour, lighted only by one flickering rushlight. So small was the +room that the whitewashed walls pressed close on every side. So low +was the ceiling that when Fox arose and drew himself up to his full +height the black oak beams were scarce a hand's breadth above his +head. + +Yet Richard, as he looked up, awed and silent, from his stool by the +table, felt as if his friend were still standing far above him on the +summit of a high hill, with nothing but the heights of sky beyond his +head and with the hills and valleys of the whole world stretching away +below his feet. + +'I see,' said Fox, and, as he spoke, to Richard too the narrow walls +seemed to open and melt away into infinite space on every side: 'I see +a people in white raiment, by a riverside--a great people--in white +raiment, coming to the Lord.' + +The flickering rushlight spluttered and went out. Through the low +casement window the white mists could be seen, still rising from every +bend and fold of the widespread valleys that lay around them, rising +up, up, like an innumerable company of spirit-filled souls, while the +moon shone down serenely over all. + + +II + +It was a few days later, and Whitsun Eve. The same traveller who had +climbed to the top of old Pendle Hill 'with much ado, it was so +steep,' was coming down now on the far side of the Yorkshire dales. + +'A lusty strong man of body' but 'of a grave look or countenance,' he +'travelled much on foot through rough and untrodden paths.' 'As he +passed through Wensleydale he advised the people as he met or passed +through them' 'to fear God,' 'which ... did much alarm the people, it +being a time that many people were filled with zeal.'[3] + +At sunset he passed through a village of flax-weavers whose +settlements lay in the low flatts that bordered the rushing river +Rawthey a mile or two outside of Sedbergh Town. + +'I came through the Dales,' says George Fox in his Journal, 'and as I +was passing along the way, I asked a man which was Richard Robinson's, +and he asked me from whence I came, and I told him "From the Lord."' + +This must have been a rather unexpected answer from a traveller on the +high road. Can you not see the countryman's surprised face as he turns +round and stares at the speaker, and wonders whatever he means? + +'So when I came to Richard Robinson's I declared the Everlasting Truth +to him, and yet a dark jealousy rose up in him after I had gone to +bed, that I might be somebody that was come to rob his house, and he +locked all his doors fast. And the next day I went to a separate +meeting at Justice Benson's where the people generally was convinced, +and this was the place that I had seen a people coming forth in white +raiment; and a mighty meeting there was and is to this day near +Sedbarr which I gathered in the name of Jesus.' + +These flax-weavers of Brigflatts were a company of 'Seekers,' +unsatisfied souls who had strayed away like lost sheep from all the +sects and Churches, and were longing for a spiritual Shepherd to come +and find them again and bring them home to the fold. + +George Fox was a weaver's son himself. Directly he heard it, the whirr +of the looms beside the rushing Rawthey must have been a homelike +sound in his ears. But more than that, his spirit was immediately at +home among the little colony of weavers of snowy linen; for he +recognised at once that these were the riverside people 'in white +raiment,' whom he had seen in his vision, and to whom he had been +sent. + +Not only the flax-weavers, but also some of the 'considerable people' +of the neighbourhood accepted the message of the wandering preacher, +who came to them over the dales that memorable Whitsuntide. The master +of the house where the meeting was held, Colonel Gervase Benson +himself, and his good wife Dorothy also, were 'convinced of Truth,' +and faithfully did they adhere thereafter to their new faith, through +fair weather and foul. In later years, men noted that this same +Colonel Benson, following his teacher's love of simplicity, and hatred +of high-sounding titles, generally styled himself merely a +'husbandman,' notwithstanding 'the height and glory of the world that +he had a great share of,'[4] seeing that 'he had been a Colonel, a +Justice of the Peace, Mayor of Kendal, and Commissary in the +Archdeaconry of Richmond before the late domestic wars. Yet, as an +humble servant of Christ, he downed those things.'[5] His wife, +Mistress Dorothy, also, was to prove herself a faithful friend to her +teacher in after years, when his turn, and her turn too, came to +suffer for 'Truth's sake.' + +But in these opening summer days of 1652, no shadows fell on the +sunrise of enthusiasm and of hope, as, in the good Justice's house +beside the rushing Rawthey, the gathering of the 'great people' began. + +The day was Whitsunday, the anniversary of that other gathering in the +upper room at Jerusalem, when the Apostles being all 'in one place, +with one accord, of one mind,' the rushing mighty Wind came and shook +all the place where they were sitting, followed by the cloven tongues +'like as of fire, that sat upon each of them.' + +The gift given at Pentecost has never been recalled. Throughout the +ages the Spirit waits to take possession of human hearts, ready to +fill even the humblest lives with Its Own Power of breath and flame. + +This was the Truth that had grown dusty and neglected in England in +this seventeenth century. The 'still, small Voice' had been drowned in +the clash of arms and in the almost worse clamour of a thousand +different sects. Now that, after his own long search in loneliness and +darkness, George Fox had at length found the Voice speaking to him +unmistakably in the depths of his own heart, the whole object of his +life was to persuade others to listen also to 'the true Teacher that +is within,' and to convince them that He was always waiting to speak +not only in their hearts, but also through their lives. 'My message +unto them from the Lord was,' he says, 'that they should all come +together again and wait to feel the Lord's power and spirit in +themselves, to gather them together to Christ, that they might be +taught of Him who says "Learn of Me."' + +This was the Truth--an actual, living Truth--that not only the +flax-weavers of Brigflatts, but many other companies of 'Seekers' +scattered through the dales of Yorkshire and Westmorland, as well as +in many other places, had been longing to hear proclaimed. 'Thirsty +Souls that hunger' was one of the names by which they called +themselves. It was to these thirsty, hungering Souls that George Fox +had been led at the very moment when he was burning to share with +others the vision of the 'wide horizons of the future' that had been +unfolded to him on the top of old Pendle Hill. + +No wonder that the Seekers welcomed him and flocked round him, +drinking in his words as if their thirsty souls could never have +enough. No wonder that he welcomed them with equal gladness, rejoicing +not only in their joy, but yet more in that he saw his vision's +fulfilment beginning. Here in these secluded villages he had been led +unmistakably to the 'Great People,' whom he had seen afar off, waiting +to be gathered. + +Within a fortnight from that assembly on Whit-Sunday at Justice +Benson's house George Fox was no longer a solitary, wandering teacher, +trying to convince scattered people here and there of the Truths he +had discovered. Within a fortnight--a wonderful fortnight truly--he +had become the leader of a mighty movement that gathered adherents and +grew of itself, spreading with an irresistible impulse until, only a +few years later, one Englishman out of every ninety was a member of +the SOCIETY OF FRIENDS. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[3] First Publishers of Truth. + +[4] First Publishers of Truth. + +[5] First Publishers of Truth. + + + + +VIII. A WONDERFUL FORTNIGHT + + + + + _'I look upon Cumberland and + Westmorland as the Galilee of + Quakerism.'--T. HODGKIN._ + + + _'They may have failed in their + intellectual formulation, but at + least they succeeded in finding a + living God, warm and tender and + near at hand, the Life of their + lives, the Day Star in their + hearts; and their travail of Soul, + their brave endurance, and their + loyal obedience to vision have + helped to make our modern + world.'--RUFUS M. JONES._ + + + _'We ceased from the teachings of + all men, and their words and their + worships, and their temples and + all their baptisms and churches, + and we ceased from our own words + and professions and practices in + religion.... We met together + often, and waited upon the Lord in + pure silence from our own words, + and hearkened to the voice of the + Lord and felt His word in our + hearts.'--E. BURROUGH._ + + + _'John Camm, he was my father + according to the flesh, so was he + also a spiritual father and + instructor of me in the way of + Truth and Righteousness ... for + his tender care was great for the + education of me and the rest of + his children and family in the + Nurture and Fear of the + Lord.'--THOMAS CAMM._ + + + _'Death cannot separate us, for in + the never-failing love of God + there is union for evermore.'--J. + CAMM._ + + + + +VIII. A WONDERFUL FORTNIGHT + +I + + +The annual Fair on Whitsun Wednesday is the gayest time of the whole +year at Sedbergh. For a few hours the solid grey town under the green +fells gives itself up to gaiety and merriment. + +The gentry of the neighbourhood as well as the country folk for miles +around come flocking to the annual hiring of farm lads and lasses, +which is the main business of the Fair. Thoughts of profit and the +chance of making a good bargain fill the heads of the older +generation. But the youths and maidens come, eager-eyed, looking for +romance. At the Fair they seek to guess what Fate may hold in store +for them during the long months of labour that will follow hard on +their few hours of jollification. + +'All manner of finery was to be had' at the Fair; 'there were morris +and rapier dances, wrestling and love-making going on,' and plenty of +hard drinking too. 'The Fair at Sedbergh' was the emphatic destination +of many a prosperous farmer and labourer on a Whitsun Wednesday +morning; but it was 'Sebba Fair' he cursed thickly under his breath as +he reeled home at night. + +In truth seventeenth-century Sedbergh was a busy place, not only in +Fair week, but at other times too, with its stately old church and its +grammar school; to say nothing of the fact that, in these days of +Oliver's Protectorate, it boasted no less than forty-eight different +religious sects among its few hundred inhabitants. Only the sad-eyed +Seekers, coming down in little groups from their scattered hamlets, +exchanged sorrowful greetings as they met one another amid all the +riot and hubbub of the Fair; for they had tried the forty-eight sects +in turn for the nourishment their souls needed, and had tried them all +in vain. + +Until this miraculous Whitsuntide of June 1652, when, suddenly, in a +moment, everything was changed. + +The little groups of Seekers stood still and looked at one another in +astonishment as they came out from the shadow of the narrow street of +grey stone houses into the open square in the centre of the town. For +there, opposite the market cross and under the spreading boughs of a +gigantic yew-tree, they saw a young man standing on a bench, and +preaching as they had never heard anyone preach before. Behind him +rose the massive square tower, and the long row of clerestory windows +that were, then as now, the glory of Sedbergh Church. The tall green +grass of the churchyard was already trampled down by the feet of +hundreds of spell-bound listeners. + +Who was this unexpected Stranger who dared to interrupt even the noisy +business of the Fair with the earnestness and insistence of his +appeal? He was a young and handsome man, with regular features and +hair that hung in short curls under his hat-brim, contrary to the +Puritan fashion; big-boned in body, and of a commanding presence. The +boys of the grammar school, determined to make the most of their +holiday, thought it good sport at first to mock at the Stranger's +garb. As he stood there, lifted up above them on the rough bench, they +could see every detail of the queer leather breeches that he wore +underneath his long coat. His girdle with its alchemy buttons showed +off grandly too, while the fine linen bands he wore at his neck +gleamed out with dazzling whiteness against the dark branches of +Sedbergh's majestic old yew-tree. + +The preacher's words and tones and his piercing eyes quickly overawed +his audience, and made them forget his outlandish appearance. Even the +boys could understand what he was saying, for he seemed to be speaking +to each one of them, as much as to any of the grown-up people. And +what was this he was telling them? With outstretched hand he pointed +upwards, insisting that that church, the beautiful building, the pride +of Sedbergh, was not a church at all. It was only a steeple-house; +they themselves were the true church, their own souls and bodies were +the temples chosen by the Spirit of God for His habitation. No wonder +the schoolboys, and many older people too, became awed and silent at +the bare idea of such a Guest. None of the eight-and-forty sects of +Sedbergh town had ever heard doctrine like this before. Possibly there +might not have been eight-and-forty of them if they had. + +Once during the discourse a Captain got up and interrupted the +Stranger: 'Why do you preach out here under the yew-tree? Why do you +not go inside the church and preach there?' + +'But,' says George Fox, 'I said unto him that I denied their church. + +'Then stood up Francis Howgill, a separate preacher, that had not seen +me before, and so he began to dispute with the Captain, but he held +his peace. Then said Francis Howgill, "This man speaks with +authority, and not as the Scribes." + +'And so,' continues George Fox, 'I opened to the people that that +ground and house was no holier than another place, and that house was +not the Church, but the people which Christ is head of. And so, after +a while that I had made a stand among the people, the priests came up +to me and I warned them to repent. And one of them said I was mad, and +so they turned away. But many people were glad at the hearing of the +Truth declared unto them that day, which they received gladly. + +'And there came one Edward Ward, and he said my very eyes pierced +through him, and he was convinced of God's everlasting truth and lived +and died in it, and many more was convinced there at that time.' + +Convinced they were indeed, as they had never been convinced in all +their former lives; and now that they had found the teacher they +wanted, the hungry, thirsty Seekers were not going to let him go +again. Almost overturning the booths of the Fair, these solemn, +sad-eyed men jostled each other like children in their endeavours to +reach their new friend. + +There at the back of the crowd solid John Camm, the prosperous +'statesman' farmer of Cammsgill, near Preston Patrick, could be seen +waving his staff like a schoolboy to attract the preacher's attention +as soon as the sermon stopped. 'Come home, young Sir! Come home with +me,' John Camm called out lustily. + +But ruddy-cheeked John Audland, the linen-draper of Crosslands, had +been quicker than the elderly farmer. He was a happy bridegroom that +summer, and bringing his wife with him for the first time to Sedbergh +Fair. She--a Seeker like himself--had been known in her maiden days as +gentle Anne Newby of Kendal town: yet the ways of the dalesmen and of +the country people were in a measure strange to her, seeing all her +girlhood had been spent at her aunt's house in London town, where she +had received her education. Possibly she had looked forward not +without dread to the rough merry-making of the Fair; but she too had +kindled at the Stranger's message. Her shyness fled from her as, with +her hand locked fast in her husband's, the two pressed forward. The +crowd seemed to melt away at sight of their radiant faces, and almost +before the sermon was ended the young couple found themselves face to +face with the preacher. The same longing was in both their hearts: the +same words rose unbidden to their lips: 'Come back with us to +Crosslands, Sir! Come back and be the first guest to bless our home.' + +George Fox smiled as he met the eager gaze of the young folk, and +stretched out a friendly hand. But an old slow man with a long white +beard had forestalled even the impetuous rush of the youthful bride +and bridegroom. + +'Nay; now, good friends,' said Farmer Thomas Blaykling of Drawwell, +'my home is nigh at hand. For the next three days the Stranger is +mine. He must stay with me and I will bring him to Firbank Chapel on +Sunday. Come ye also thither and hear him again, and bring every +seeking man and woman and child in all these dales to hear him too; +and thereafter ye shall have him in your turn and entertain him where +ye will.' + + +II + +The first three peaceful days after the Fair were spent by the young +preacher at Drawwell Farm, knitting up a friendship with its inmates +that neither time nor suffering was able thereafter to unravel. + +'The house inhabited by the Blayklings may still be seen. Its thick +walls, small windows and rooms, with the clear well behind, must be +almost in the same condition as in the week we are remembering.'[6] + +In later days many a 'mighty Meeting' was to be held in the big barn +that adjoins the small whitewashed house with its grey flagged roof. +Drawwell is situated about two miles away from Sedbergh, on the sunny +slope of a hill overlooking the River Lune, that here forms the +boundary between the two counties of Westmorland and Yorkshire. + +There, under the shadow of the great fells, George Fox had time for +many a quiet talk with his hosts, in the days that followed the +Whitsuntide Fair. John Blaykling, the farmer's son, was a man of +strong character. He was afterwards to become himself a powerful +preacher of the Truth and to suffer for it when persecution came. +Moreover, 'he was a great supporter of them that were in low +circumstances in the world, often assisting them in difficult cases to +the exposing of himself to great hazards of loss.' + +He had also an especial care for the feelings of others. On the Sunday +after the Fair he was anxious to take his guest to Firbank Chapel, +where the Seekers' service was to be held, high up on the hill +opposite Drawwell. Yet he seems to have had some misgivings that his +guest might be too full of his own powerful message to remember to +behave courteously to others, who, although in a humbler way, were +still trying to declare the Truth as far as they had a knowledge of +it. Fox writes in his Journal: + + 'And the next First day I came to Firbank Chapel, where Francis + Howgill and John Audland were preaching in the morning, and John + Blaykling and others came to me and desired me not to reprove + them publicly, for they was not parish teachers but pretty sober + men, but I would not tell them whether I would or no, though I + had little in me to declare publicly against them, but told them + they must leave me to the Lord's movings. The chapel was full of + people and many could not get in. Francis Howgill (who was + preaching) said he thought I looked into the Chapel, but I did + not. And he said that I might have killed him with a crab-apple, + the Lord's power had so surprised him. + + 'So they had quickly done with their preaching to the people at + that time, and they and the people went to their dinners, but + abundance stayed till they came again. And I went to a brook and + got me a little water, and so I came and sat me down atop of a + rock, (for the word of the Lord came to me that I must go and + sit upon the rock in the mountain, even as Christ had done + before). + + 'And in the afternoon the people gathered about me with several + separate teachers, where it was judged there was above a + thousand people. And all those several separate teachers were + convinced of God's everlasting truth that day, amongst whom I + declared freely and largely God's everlasting truth and word of + life about three hours. And there was many old people went into + the chapel and looked out of the windows and thought it a + strange thing to see a man to preach on a hill or mountain, and + not in their church as they called it. So I was made to open to + the people that the steeple-house and the ground whereon it + stood was no more holier than that mountain ... but Christ was + come who ended the temple and the priests and the tithes, and + Christ said, "Learn of me," and God said, "This is my beloved + Son, hear ye Him." + + 'For the Lord had sent me with His everlasting gospel to preach, + and His word of life so that they all might come to know Christ + their Teacher, their Counsellor, their Shepherd to feed them, + and their Bishop to oversee them, and their Prophet to open to + them, and to know their bodies to be temples of God and Christ + for them to dwell in.... And so, turning the people to the + Spirit of God, and from the darkness to the light, that they + might believe in it and become children of light.' + + +III + +'Now, it is our turn,' insisted ruddy-faced John Audland, 'George Fox +must come home with me. My house at Crosslands will be the most +convenient resting-place for him, seeing it lies mid-way between here +and Preston Patrick; and to Preston Patrick and the General Meeting of +our Seeking People he must certainly come, since it is to be held in +three days' time. There are many folk, still seeking, on the other +side of the dales, who have not yet heard the good news, but who will +rejoice mightily when they find him there. Besides, he has promised my +wife that he will be the first guest to come and bless our home.' + +'Yes in truth, he shall return with thee,' echoed Audland's friend, +John Camm of Cammsgill, 'since Preston Patrick is too far a step for +him to-day. He shall lodge with thee and thy good wife Anne, and bless +your home. But on Wednesday, betimes, thou must bring him to me at +Cammsgill right early in the day--and I will take him as my guest to +Preston Patrick and our Seekers' Meeting.' + +John Audland readily assented to this proposal. He and his wife would +have the wonderful Stranger all to themselves until Wednesday. As the +two men wandered back over the hills in a satisfied silence, his mind +was full of all the questions he meant to ask. For had not he himself, +though only a youth of twenty-two, been one of the appointed preachers +at Firbank Chapel? Truly he had done his best there, as at other +times, to feed the people; yet in spite of his words they had seemed +ever hungry, until the Stranger came among them, breaking the True +Bread of Life for all to share. + +John Audland was 'a young man of a comely countenance, and very lovely +qualities.'[7] Never a thought of jealousy or envy crossed his mind; +only he was filled with a longing to know more, to learn, to be fed +himself, that he, in his turn, might feed others. Still, being but +human, it was with slight irritation that he heard himself hailed with +a loud 'halloo!' from behind. Looking round, he beheld a long-legged +figure ambling after them along the dusty road, and recognised a +certain tactless youth, John Story by name, famous throughout the +district for his knack of thrusting himself in where he was least +wanted. Without so much as a 'by your leave' John Story caught up the +other two men and began a lively conversation as they walked along. + +Self-invited, he followed them into John Audland's home; where the +young bride, Anne, was too well bred to betray her disappointment at +this unexpected visitor. Elbowing his way rudely past the master of +the house and the invited guest, John Story stalked ahead into the +bridal parlour and sat himself down deliberately in the best chair. +'I'm your first guest now, Mistress Anne,' he said with a chuckle. +Then lighting his pipe he threw his head back and made himself +comfortable--evidently intending to stay the evening. But his chief +care and intention was to patronise George Fox. He had been at Firbank +also, and he had remembered enough of the sermon there to repeat some +of the preacher's words jestingly to his face. He handed his lighted +pipe to George Fox, saying, 'Come, will you take a pipe of +tobacco?'--and added, mockingly, seeing his hesitation, 'Come, all is +ours!' + +'But,' says George Fox, 'I looked upon him to be a forward bold lad; +and tobacco I did not take. But it came into my mind that the lad +might think I had not unity with the creation: for I saw he had a +flashy, empty notion of religion. So I took his pipe and put it to my +mouth, and gave it to him again to stop him lest his rude tongue +should say I had not unity with the creation.' + +And soon after this, let us hope, John Story, with his tobacco and his +rude tongue, saw fit to take his leave, and remove his unwelcome +presence. + + +IV + +Two more days of the 'wonderful fortnight' were passed in the +linen-draper's home at Crosslands before, on the Wednesday forenoon, +John Audland and his guest descended the dales of Westmorland and +climbed the steep, wooded glen that leads to Cammsgill Farm. There, at +the door, with hands outstretched in welcome, stood good John Camm and +his loving wife Mabel. Peeping behind them curiously at the Stranger +was their twelve-year-old son, Tom. At the windows of the farm were to +be seen the faces of the men-servants and maid-servants, for great was +the curiosity to see the Stranger of whom such great tidings had been +told. Among the serving-maids were two sisters, Jane and Dorothy +Waugh. Little did the eager girls imagine that the Stranger whom they +eyed so keenly was to alter the whole course of their lives by his +words that day; that, for both of them, the pleasant, easy, farm life +at Cammsgill was over, and that they were hereafter to go forth to +preach in their turn, to suffer beatings and cruel imprisonments, and +even to cross the seas, in order to publish the same Truth that he had +come to proclaim. + +Tom Camm also, boy as he was, was never to forget that eventful +morning. Long years afterwards he remembered every detail of it. + +'On the 4th day morning,' he writes, 'John Audland came with George +Fox to the house of John Camm at Cammsgill in Preston Patrick, who +with his wife and familie gladly received G.F.' + +And now, while they are 'gladly receiving' their guest and waiting +till it is time to go down the steep hill to Preston Patrick, let us +look back at the farm-house of Cammsgill where they are sitting, and +learn something of its history and that of its owners. + +It was to Cammsgill that Farmer John Camm had brought home his bride +on a late day of summer, thirteen years before the eventful year 1652 +of which these stories tell. A wise, prosperous man was good John +Camm, one of the most successful 'statesmen' in all the fertile dales +round about. So busy had he been developing his farm, and attending to +the numerous flocks and herds, that were ever increasing under his +skilful management, that time for love-making seemed to have been left +out of his life. But at last, when he was well over forty, he found +the one woman he had been unconsciously needing through all his +prosperous years to make his life round and complete. It was a mellow +day of Indian summer when John and Mabel Camm walked up the winding +road to Cammsgill for the first time as man and wife. But the golden +sunshine that lay on all the burnished riches of the well-filled +farm-yard was dim compared with the inward sunshine that gladdened the +farmer's heart. + +Farmer John had made a wise choice, and he knew it. In his eyes +nothing was good enough for his wife, not even the home where he had +been born, and where his ancestors for generations had lived and died; +so Cammsgill had been entirely rebuilt before that golden September +day when John and Mabel Camm came home to begin their new life +together. The re-building had been done in such solid fashion that +part of the farm-house still stands, well-proportioned and +serviceable, after nearly three centuries have passed to test it, +showing that he who builds for love builds truly and well. + +Mabel Camm was a proud woman as she stood at the door of her hillside +home and watched the autumn sunlight lighting up her husband's face as +he walked across his fields in the valley, or strode, almost with the +energetic step of a young man, up the crab-apple bordered track to the +farm. + +Close at his heels followed his collie, looking up into his master's +face with adoring affection. Not only every animal on the farm loved +the master, the men-servants and maid-servants also would do anything +to please him, for was he not ever mindful of their interests as if +they had been his own? In those days each labourer had three or four +acres of land as of right. This fostered an independent spirit and +made their affection a tribute worth the winning.[8] Later on that +same year, when winter came, earlier than its wont, the fells were +knee-deep in snow and all the beasts were brought for shelter round +the farm to protect them from the snow-drifts and bitter weather on +the upland pastures. + +Then it was that at nights in the snug farm-house kitchen, after the +day's work was done, John Camm and his young wife together carved +their initials on the 'brideswain,' a tall oak chest that held the +goodly stock of homespun linen and flax brought by Mabel Camm to her +new home. John Camm was something of an artist. His was the design of +the interlaced initials. All his life he had been a skilful carver +with his tools on the winter evenings, and now he took pleasure in +showing his bride the right way to use them and how to fashion her +strokes aright. Night after night the two heads bent over their task, +but to this day it may still be seen at Cammsgill that one of the two +artists was less skilful than the other, for Mabel's curves are more +angular and without the careless ease of her husband's. What, however, +did unskilful fingers matter when the firelight shone upon two happy +faces bending over the work close together, aglow with the inner +radiance of two thankful hearts? + +There were other uses for the brideswain the following summer. The +fair white sheets and pillow-cases were moved to an under-shelf. The +upper half of the chest was filled to overflowing with tiny garments +fashioned by Mabel's own fingers, skilful indeed at this dainty work. +No more woodcarving now, but endless rows of stitchery, tiny tucks and +delicate dotting, all ready to welcome the little son who arrived +before the summer's close, and completed his parents' joy. + +Since that day, a dozen years had slipped away. Now young Thomas Camm +was leaving childhood, as he had long left babyhood, behind him. He +was a big boy, quick, strong for his age, and bidding fair to be as +good a farmer as his father some day. + +'Cammsgill was a favourite house with both men and women servants, for +Mistress Camm took care that all had their fill of bread, butter, +milk, eggs or bacon, and each their three meals. Of the maid-servants, +Jane and Dorothy Waugh especially looked on their master as a father, +he was so kind and thoughtful of their needs. Indeed no one could walk +up the winding gill without meeting with a warm welcome from the +owners of the farm-house, and on winter evenings there was many a +large "sitting," by aid of the rushlights, in which the neighbours +joined, all hands being busy the while with the knitting of caps and +jerseys for the Kendal trade.... He and his wife greatly loved to +entertain visitors from a distance, especially those who were +like-minded with themselves, also looking for "the coming of the day +of the Lord,"'[9] for all the household at Cammsgill were of the +company of the "Seekers" who met every month at the Chapel of Preston +Patrick in the valley below. + +Now at last it is time for the Meeting. + +Thomas Camm's account continues: 'And it having been then a common +practice among the said seeking and religiously inclined people to +raise a General Meeting at Preston Patrick Chapel once a month, upon +the fourth day of the week, thither George Fox went, being accompanied +with John Audland and John Camm. John Audland would have had George +Fox go into the place or pew where usually he and the preacher did +sit, but he refused and took a back seat near the door, and John Camm +sat down by him, where he sat silent, waiting upon God for about half +an hour, in which time of silence Francis Howgill seemed uneasy, and +pulled out his Bible and opened it, and stood up several times, +sitting down again and closing his book, and dread and fear being on +him that he durst not begin to preach. After the said silence and +waiting George Fox stood up in the mighty power of God, and in the +demonstration thereof was his mouth opened to preach Christ Jesus, the +Light of Life, and the way to God, and Saviour of all that believe +and obey Him, which was delivered in that power and that authority +that most of the auditory, which were several hundreds, were +effectually reached to the heart, and convinced of the truth that very +day, for it was the day of God's power. A notable day indeed, never to +be forgotten by me Thomas Camm.... I, being then present at that +Meeting, a school-boy but about twelve years of age, yet, I bless the +Lord for His mercy, then religiously inclined, do still remember that +blessed and glorious day, in which my soul, by that living testimony +then borne in the demonstration of God's power, was effectually +opened, reached and convinced, with many more who are seals of that +powerful ministry that attended this faithful minister of the Lord +Jesus Christ, and by which we were convinced, and turned from darkness +to light and from Satan's power to the power of God. After which +Meeting at Preston Chapel, G.F. came to the house of John Camm at +Cammsgill. Next day travelled to Kendal where he had a meeting, where +many were convinced and received his testimony with joy.' + +The 'wonderful fortnight' was drawing to a close. The vision on Pendle +Hill, when George Fox beheld a people 'as thick as motes in the sun +that should in time be brought home to the Lord,' had already begun to +form around it a Society of Friends who were pledged to carry it out. + +Remember always, it was not the Society that beheld the vision; it was +the vision that created and creates the Society. + +The vision is the important thing; for it is still unfulfilled. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[6] Ernest E. Taylor, _A Great People to be gathered._ + +[7] Sewel's _History of the Quakers._ + +[8] E.E. Taylor, _Faithful Servants of God._ + +[9] E.E. Taylor, _Faithful Servants of God._ + + + + +IX. UNDER THE YEW-TREES + + + + + _'George Fox was a born leader of + souls. The flame of religious + ardour which burned in him, and + the intense conviction and + spiritual power with which he + spoke, would in any age have made + him great. He was born in a + generation of revolutions and + upheavals, both political and + spiritual. Confusion and unrest, + war and reformations, give to + great spirits a power which, when + life is calmer, they might not + attain. Fox drew to himself a + multitude of noble souls, + attracted to him by that which + they shared with him, the sense of + spiritual realities, and the + consciousness of the guiding + Spirit. The age of George Fox + thirsted for spiritual reality. He + had found it. Men on all sides + were ready to find it as he had. + The dales of Yorkshire, and the + hills of lakeland, not less than + the towns of the Midlands, had men + in them ready to rejoice in the + touch of the spiritual, ready to + respond to the movement of the + Spirit. See him then arriving at + some farm-yard in the hills, or + may be at a country squire's + hall....'--CYRIL HEPHER, + 'Fellowship of Silence.'_ + + + _'The house was no doubt full of + music, as were indeed many others, + in that most musical of English + centuries.'--J. BAILEY, 'Milton.'_ + + + _Motto on Seal of a letter to M. + Fell:_ + + 1660 + '_GOD ABOVE + KEEP US IN HIS LIGHT + AND LOVE._' + + + + +IX. UNDER THE YEW-TREES + + +Six gay girls sat together, laughing and talking, under the shadow of +the ancient yew-trees that guard the eastern corner of Swarthmoor +Hall. The interlaced boughs of the gloomy old trees made a cool canopy +of shadow above the merry maidens. It was a breathless day of late +June, 1652, at the very end of the 'wonderful fortnight.' + +There they were, Judge Fell's six fair daughters: Margaret, Bridget, +Isabel, Sarah, Mary and little Susanna, who was but three years old, +on that hot summer afternoon. + +''Tis a pity that there are only six of us,' Sarah was saying with +mock melancholy. 'Now, suppose my brother George instead of being a +boy had been a girl, then there would have been seven. The Seven +Sisters of Swarthmoor Hall! In truth it has a gallant sound like unto +a play. Seven Young Sisters and Seven Ancient Yew Trees! Each of us +might have a yew-tree then for her very own.' So saying, Sarah leant +back against the huge gnarled trunk behind her, her golden curls +rippling like sunshine over the wrinkled wood, while her blue eyes +peered into the dark-green depths overhead. + +'Moreover, in that case,' continued Isabel, with a touch of sarcasm in +her voice, 'and supposing the Seventh Sister, who doth not exist, were +to have seven more daughters in her turn,--then it might be expected +that the Seventh Daughter of that Seventh Daughter would have keener +than mortal hearing, and sharper than mortal sight. She would be able +to hear the grass growing, and know when the fairies were making +their rings, and be able to catch the Brownies at their tasks, so the +country people say. Heigh ho! I wish she were here! Or I would that I +myself were the Seventh Daughter of a Seventh Daughter, or still +better the Seventh Son of a Seventh Son, for they have real true +second sight, and can look in magic crystals and foresee things to +come.' + +'Now it is my turn,' chimed in Bridget, 'I am the eldest but one, and +it is time I talked a little. Then when the Seventh Daughter of the +Seventh Daughter walks hand in hand with the Seventh Son of a Seventh +Son (neither of whom, allow me to remind you in passing, ever have +existed, or, it is to be hoped, ever will exist in a well-connected +family like ours), when they walk hand in hand under the shade of the +Seven Ancient Yew-trees which, we all know, have guarded Swarthmoor +for centuries ... the Seven Ancient Trees will be sure to overhear +them whispering honeyed nothings to each other. Then the oldest and +wisest of all the Trees (by the bye, it is that one behind you, +Isabel!) will say, "Dearly beloved Children, although the words you +say are incredibly foolish, yet to me they sound almost wise compared +with the still more incredibly foolish conversation carried on beneath +my old boughs in the Year of our Lord one thousand six hundred and +fifty-two by your ever venerable Great Aunt Isabel and your still more +venerable Great Aunt Sarah!"' + +'O _Bridget_,' came in aggrieved tones from the two younger girls as +they flung themselves upon her and put laughing hands over her mouth, +'that is too bad, that is unkind.' + +The eldest sister, Margaret, looked up from the low bench where she +was sitting with Mary and Susanna, the two youngest children beside +her. Seeing the struggling heap of muslin and ribbons on the grass she +resolutely turned the talk into less personal channels. 'I do not at +all agree with Sarah,' she said calmly, 'besides it is much too hot to +argue. For my part, _I_ think Six Sisters are fully enough for any +household. If I had more than five younger ones to look after, I don't +know what I should do. Even for the yew-trees it is better. There is +one now for each of us to sit under, and one to spare for my mother +when at last she comes home. I wonder what makes her so late? When +will she be here?' + +A ripple of expectation stirred the maidens. Moved by the same +impulse, they all looked out under the dark yew branches and over the +sunlit orchard, beyond which lay the high road leading up the hill +from Ulverston. Nothing as yet was to be seen and no faintest rumble +of approaching wheels reached any of the listeners. + +Everywhere the hot air quivered in the sunshine. Even the stately +Elizabethan Hall with its high stone chimneys and mullioned bay +windows looked drowsy and half asleep. A pale wisp of smoke was +ascending listlessly in a straight line above the gabled roofs high up +into the far still air. Scarcely a sound came from the outbuildings +that lay beyond the Hall. Even the pigeons on the roof were too hot to +coo. In the herb garden beneath, the flowers drooped in the scorching +light. Glare everywhere. Only under the yew-trees was there to be +found a pool of grateful shadow. And even that pool had a sunshine of +its own radiating from the group of merry maidens, with their bright +faces and gay voices raised in perpetual talk, or laughter, or song. +For a little while they seemed to be busy practising a madrigal. Then +the irrepressible chatter burst out afresh. Cool and fragrant all the +maidens looked, in their dresses of clear sprigged muslin, each tied +at waist, wrists, and throat with ribbons of a different colour: +lilac, lavender, primrose, cherry, emerald, and blue. The garden roses +might droop in the hot garden outside, but the roses on the girls' +cheeks, instead of fading, flushed and deepened with growing +excitement. They all seemed full of suppressed eagerness, evidently +waiting for something much desired to happen. + +At length tall Bridget, exclaiming, 'It must be time now!' sprang to +her feet, and, stooping under the clinging boughs of the yew-tree +temple, drew herself up to her full height outside its shade. Her gaze +roamed over the long grass of the orchard and down the broad path, to +the high stone arch of the entrance gate through which she could just +catch sight of a glimpse of dusty road. + +'Nothing yet!' she reported, 'not even a sign of the black horses' +ears or heads above the hedge and not a sound upon the road.' + +Margaret raised her head to listen. She inherited her mother's placid, +Madonna-like beauty, and was at this time the fairest of the whole +sisterhood. Sarah, who was hereafter to be considered not only the wit +but also the beauty of the family, was at this time a child of ten, +and not yet grown into her full inheritance of comeliness. In after +years it was said of Sarah that she was 'not only beautiful and lovely +to a high degree, but was wonderfully happy in ingeny and memory.' +But even at her loveliest it was never said of her, as it was of +Margaret, that she was 'glorious, comely, and beautiful in that which +never fades away,' 'lovely in the truth, an example of holiness and +wisdom.' + +This comely Margaret, seeing and hearing nothing of what she sought, +bent her fair face down once more to the little sisters seated on each +side of her. To beguile the waiting time she was making for them a +chain of the daisies they had gathered as they flitted about, like gay +white butterflies, over the grass. Mary was eight years old, and +therefore able to pick daisies with discretion; but the stalks of the +flowers gathered by little Susanna were all sadly too short and the +flowers themselves suffered in her tight hot hand. At this moment +Isabel ran to join Bridget and, standing on tiptoe beside her, tried +hard to see as much as her taller sister. + +'Nothing yet,' she reported, 'not a sign of the black horses nor even +the top of the coach.' Sarah, not to be outdone, swung herself up, +with a laugh, on to one of the lower boughs of the oldest yew-tree, +and standing on it thrust her golden head through the thick canopy +overhead. She peered out in her turn looking across the orchard and +over the hedge to the road, then, bending down with a laughing face to +Margaret and the little ones, 'I'm tallest now,' she exclaimed, 'and I +shall be the first to spy the coach when it reaches the top of the +hill!' + +But agile Isabel, ever ready to follow a sister's lead, had already +left Bridget's side and swung herself up, past Sarah, on to a yet +higher bough. + +'Methinks not, Mistress Sarah,' she called over her head, slowly and +demurely, 'for now I can see yet farther, and there are the horses' +ears and heads; yea and the chariot also, and now, at last! our +mother's face!' + +But the group below had not waited for her tidings. They had heard the +rumble of the wheels and the horses' feet on the road. With cries of +joy, off they all sped down the path and across the orchard; to see +who should be first at the gate to welcome their mother. Only Margaret +stayed behind on her bench among the scattered daisies, with a +slightly pensive expression on her lovely face. + +'All of them flying to greet her!' Margaret thought to herself. 'See, +Bridget has caught up even Susanna in her arms, that she shall not be +left too far behind; while I, the eldest, whom my mother doth ever +call her right hand, am forced to stay here. But my mother knows that +my knee prevents me. She will not forget her Margaret. Already she +sees me, and is beckoning the others to come this way.' + +In truth Mistress Fell had already alighted and was now passing +swiftly under the high stone arch of the gateway. Never did she come +through that gate without a flash of remembrance of the first time she +entered there, leaning on her husband's arm, a bride of seventeen +summers, younger than her own fair Margaret now. She entered, this +time, leaning on the arm of tall Bridget, walking as if she were a +trifle weary, yet stooping to pick up little Susanna and to cover her +with kisses as she moved up the path surrounded by her cloud of girls. + +'Not the house, maids,' she cried, 'the yew-trees first! I see my +Margaret waiting there. Your news, how marvellous soever, must wait +until I have greeted my right-hand daughter and learned how she +fares.' + +'How art thou, dear Heart?' she enquired, as she stooped down and +kissed her eldest daughter, and sat down beside her. 'Hath thy knee +pained thee a little less this afternoon?' + +'Much less,' answered Margaret gaily, 'in fact I had almost forgotten +it, and was about to rise and welcome you with the rest, when a sudden +ache reminded me that I must not run yet awhile.' + +Mistress Fell shook her head. 'I fear that I shall have to take thee +to London and to Wapping for the waters some day. I cannot have my +bird unable to fly like the rest of the brood, and obliged to wait +behind with a clipped wing.' + +'Young Margrett,' as she was called, to distinguish her from her +mother, laughed aloud. 'Nay now, sweet mother, 'tis nothing,' she +replied. 'Let us think of more cheerful things. In truth we have much +to tell you, for we have had an afternoon of visitors and many +happenings in thy absence.' + +'Visitors?' A slight furrow showed itself in the elder Margaret's +smooth forehead. 'Well, that is not strange, since the door of +Swarthmoor stands ever open to welcome guests, as all the country +knows. Still I would that I had been at home, or thy father. Who were +the visitors, daughter?' + +It was Bridget who answered. + +'My father hath often said that there has been scarce a day without a +visitor at Swarthmoor since he first brought you here as its +mistress,' she began primly, 'but in all these years, mother, I doubt +you have never set eyes on such an one as our guest of to-day. Priest +Lampitt said the same.' + +'Priest Lampitt? Hath he been here? And I not at home. Truly, it +grieves me, children, to have missed our good neighbour. Did he then +bring a stranger with him?' + +'No, No, No,' a chorus of dissent broke from the girls, all now seated +round their mother on the grass, each eager to be the first to tell +the tale, yet at a loss for words. Bridget, as usual, stepped into the +gap. She explained that 'the Priest had been amazed to find the +Stranger here. They had had much discourse. Till at last, Priest +Lampitt, waxing hot and fiery ere he departed, strode down the flagged +path slashing all the flowers with his cane and never seemed to know +what he was doing, though you know, mother, that he loves our garden.' + +A shade of real annoyance crossed Mistress Fell's face. 'The good +Priest angered in my house,' she said, with real concern in her voice, +'and I not there, but only a pack of giddy maids, who had not wit +enough between them to keep a discourteous stranger in his place and +prevent his being rude to an old friend! Nay, now, maidens, speak not +all together. Ye are too young and do but babble. Let Bridget +continue, or my Margaret. Either of them I can trust.' But 'young +Margrett' was bending her head still lower, seemingly over her daisy +chain. + +'Truly, mother,' she said in a low voice close to her mother's ear, +'there are no words for him. He is so--different; I knew not that +earth held a man like him. And he will be coming back shortly to the +house--maybe he is already awaiting you!' + +Mistress Fell looked up now in undisguised alarm. Who was this +nameless Stranger who had invaded her house during her absence, and +had apparently stolen the heart of her discreet and dignified +Margaret, in one interview, by the mere sight of his charms? Young, +handsome, quarrelsome; who could he be? What had brought him to +Swarthmoor to destroy its peace? + +She turned to capable Bridget for information. Bridget, never at a +loss, understood her mother's fears, or some of them, and immediately +answered reassuringly, 'Be not disquieted, sweet mother. Nothing +really untoward has happened. It is true the Stranger disputed hotly +with Lampitt, but it was the Priest's blame as much as the Stranger's +at first, though afterwards, when Lampitt held out his hand and wished +to be friendly, the Stranger turned from him and shook him off. Yet, +though his actions were harsh there was gentleness in his face and +bearing. He is a man of goodly presence, this Stranger, but quite, +quite old, thirty or thereabouts by my guessing.' + +The elder Margaret smiled. Bridget continued hastily: 'Or may be more. +Any way he seemed older from his gravity, and from his outlandish +dress. Under his coat could be seen a leather doublet and breeches, +and on his head he wore a large, soft, white hat.' + +At these words the concern in Mistress Fell's face disappeared in a +moment. A quick look of welcome sprang into her eyes. + +'A man in a white hat!' she exclaimed. 'Perhaps, then, his coming +forbodes good to us after all. It was only the other night that, as I +lay a-dreaming, I saw a man in a large white hat coming towards me. I +had been seeking for guidance on my knees, for often I fear we are not +wholly in the right way, with all our seeking and religious exercises. +In answer to my prayer there came towards me, in my dream, a man, and +I knew that he was to be the messenger of God to me and to all my +household. Tell me more, maidens, of this Stranger, how he came and +whence, and why he left and when he will return.' + +This time it was 'young Margrett' who answered. Seeing the sympathy in +her Mother's eyes, she found her voice at last, and rejoined quickly: + +'He resembleth a Priest somewhat, yet not altogether. He speaketh with +more authority than anyone I ever heard. Grave he is too. Grave as my +father when he is executing justice. Yet, for all his gravity, as +Bridget says, he is wondrous gentle. None of us were affrighted at +him, and the little maids ran to him as they do to my father. +Moreover, he showed them a curious seal he carried in his pocket with +letters intertwined among roses, a "G" I saw, and an "F." Afterwards +he took them on his knees and blessed them and they were wholly at +ease. Priest Lampitt, who had been watching through a window, his +countenance strangely altered by his rage, now took his departure. +Seeing him go, the Stranger put down the children gently, setting +Susanna with both her feet squarely on the polished floor, as I have +seen a shepherd set down a lamb, as if afeared that it might slip. +Then he turned in sorrow and spoke a few words to his companion. This +was the man who brought him hither, one of the Seekers from +Wensleydale or thereabouts, I should judge from his language; but +truly none of us paid much heed to him. The two of them left the Hall +together, and passed down through the herb-garden, and over the +stream. Once I noticed the Stranger turn and gaze back at the house, +searching each window, as if looking for something he found not +there. Also he smiled at sight of the yew-trees, with a greeting as if +they were old friends. Bridget declares that she heard the Stranger, +our Stranger, say that he would return hither shortly, when he had set +his companion a short distance on his homeward way. But that is now +more than two hours agone, and as yet he hath not reappeared.' + +'Well then, maids,' replied Mistress Fell briskly, 'let us not linger +here. It is high time we went back to the house to welcome our guest, +on his return.' So saying, she rose to her feet, and aiding 'young +Margrett' with one hand, she drew aside with the other the thick +screen of the branches. A ray of sunshine fell upon Margaret Fell, +standing there, in the velvety gloom of the old yew-trees, with her +six young daughters round her. Sunshine was in her heart too, as she +looked down fondly at them for a moment. + +Then, lifting up her eyes, she recognised the unknown man she had seen +in her dream. In the full blaze of sunlight, coming straight up the +flagged path towards her was a Stranger, wearing a white hat. And thus +did Mistress Margaret Fell behold for the first time GEORGE FOX. + +[Illustration] + + + + +X. 'BEWITCHED!' + + + + + _'When ye do judge of matters, or + when ye do judge of words, or when + ye do judge of persons, all these + are distinct things. A wise man + will not give both his ears to one + party but reserve one for the + other party, and will hear both, + and then judge.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'And after I came to one Captain + Sands, which he and his wife if + they could have had the world and + truth they would have received it. + But they was hypocrites and he a + very light chaffy man, and the way + was too strait for him.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'James the First was crazed + beyond his English subjects with + the witch mania of Scotland and + the Continent. No sooner had his + first parliament enacted new death + laws than the judges and the + magistrates, the constable and the + mob began to hunt up the oldest + and ugliest spinster who lived + with her geese on the common, or + tottered about the village street. + Many pleaded guilty, and described + the covenants they had formed with + black dogs and "goblins called + Tibb"; others were beaten or + terrified into fictitious + confessions, or perished, denying + their guilt to the last. The black + business culminated during the + Civil Wars when scores of women + were put to death.'--G.M. + TREVELYAN._ + + + + +X. 'BEWITCHED!' + + +Saint Swithin's feast was passed. It was a sultry, thundery afternoon +of mid July, when three horsemen were to be seen carefully picking +their way across the wide wet estuary of the River Leven that goes by +the name of 'the Sands.' The foremost rider was evidently the most +important person of the three. He was an oldish man with a careworn +face, and deepset eyes occasionally lighted by a smile, as he urged +his weary horse across the sand. This was no less a person than Judge +Fell himself, the master of Swarthmoor Hall, attended by his clerk and +his groom, and returning to his home after a lengthy absence on +circuit. A man of wide learning, of sound knowledge of affairs, and +gifted with an excellent judgment was Thomas Fell. He was as popular +now, in the autumn of his days among his country neighbours, as he had +been in former times in Parliament, and among the Puritan leaders. +Thrice had he represented his native county in the House of Commons, +and had been a trusted friend of Oliver Cromwell himself. It was only +latterly, men said, since Oliver showed a disposition to grasp more +and ever more power for himself that the good Judge, unable to prevent +that of which he disapproved, had retired from the intricate problems +and difficulties of the Capital. He now filled the office of Judge on +the Welsh Circuit and later on that of Vice-Chancellor of the Duchy of +Lancaster. But whether he dwelt in the country or in London town it +was all one. Wherever he came, men thought highly of him.[10] The +good thirsted for his approval. The bad trembled to meet his eye. Yet, +it was noted, that even when he was obliged to sentence some poor +wretch, he seemed to commiserate him, and he ever sought to throw the +weight of his influence on the side of mercy, although no man could be +sterner at times, especially when he dealt with a case of treachery or +cold-blooded cruelty. + +The lines of his countenance were rugged, yet underneath there was +always an expression of goodwill, and a kindly light in his eyes that +seemed to come from some still quiet fount of happiness within. It was +said of the Judge, and truly, that he had the happiest home, the +fairest and wisest wife, and the goodliest young family, of any man in +the county. That had been a joyful day, indeed, for him, twenty years +before, when he brought the golden-haired Margaret Askew, the heiress +of Marsh Grange, as his bride to the old grey Hall of Swarthmoor. +Sixteen full years younger than her husband was she, yet a wondrous +wise-hearted woman, and his companion in all things. + +Now that a son and six fair daughters filled the old Hall with music +and gay laughter all day long, the Judge might well be no less proud +of his 'great family' than even of having been Oliver Cromwell's +friend. + +He was ever loath to leave that cherished home for his long absences +on the Chester and North Welsh Circuit, and ever joyful when the day +came that he might return thither. Even the heavy sand that clogged +his horse's feet could hardly make him check his pace. The sands of +Morecambe Bay are perilous at times, especially to strangers, for the +tide flows in with such swiftness that even a galloping horse may not +escape it. But the Judge and his companions knew the dangers well +enough to avoid them. Their trained eyes instinctively marked the +slight depressions in the sand and the line of brogs, or half-hidden +trees, that guide travellers across by what is really the safest +route, although it may seem to take unnecessary loops and curves.[11] +At a little distance lay the lonely Chapel Island, surrounded by the +sea even at low tide, where in olden days lived a community of monks, +who tolled a bell to guide pilgrims across the shifting sands, or said +masses for the souls of those who perished. + +As his horse picked its way carefully, the Judge raised his eyes often +towards the high plateau on the horizon to which he was steadily +drawing nearer with every tedious step. Beloved Swarthmoor! The house +itself was hidden, but he could plainly discern the belt of trees in +which it stood. He thought of each of the inmates of that hidden home. +George, his only son, how straight and tall he was growing, how +gallant a rider, and how skilful a sportsman even now, though hasty in +temper and over apt to take offence. His gay maidens, were they at +this moment singing over some new madrigal prepared to greet him on +his return? In an hour or two he should see them all running down the +garden path to welcome him, from stately 'young Margrett' to little +toddling Susanna. His wife, his own Margaret, well he knew where she +would be! watching for him from the lattice of their chamber, where +she was ever the first to catch sight of him on his return, as she +had been the last to bid him farewell on his departure. + +At this point the good Judge's meditations were suddenly interrupted +by his groom, who, spurring his horse on a level with his Master's, +pointed respectfully, with upraised whip, towards several moving +specks that were hastening across the estuary. + +The softest bit of sand was over now, the travellers were reaching +firmer ground, where it was possible to go at a quicker pace. Setting +spurs to his horse the Judge hastened forward, his face flushing with +an anxiety he took no pains to conceal. + +In those days, when posts were rare and letters difficult to get or to +send, an absence of many weeks always meant the possibility of finding +bad news at home on the return from a journey. + +'Heaven send they bring me no ill tidings!' Judge Fell said to himself +as he cantered anxiously forward. Before long, it was possible to make +out that the moving specks were a little company of horsemen galloping +towards them over the sands. A few minutes later the Judge was +surrounded by a group of breathless riders and panting horses, with +bits and bridles flecked with foam. + +The Judge's fears increased as he recognised all his most important +neighbours. Their excited faces also struck him with dread. 'You bring +me bad news?' he had called out, as soon as the cavalcade came within +earshot. At the answering shout, 'Aye, the worst,' his heart had sunk +like lead. And now here he was actually in their midst, and not one of +them could speak. 'Out with it, friends,' he commanded, 'let me know +the worst. To whom hath evil happened? To my wife? My son? My +daughters?' + +But even he was hardly prepared for the answer, low-breathed and +muttering like a roll of thunder: 'To all.' + +'To all!' cried the agonised father. 'Impossible! They cannot all be +dead!' Again came the ominous rejoinder, 'Worse, far worse,' and then, +in a shout from half-a-dozen throats at once, 'Far, far worse. They +are all bewitched!' Bewitched! that was indeed a word of ill-omen in +those days, a word at which no man, be his position ever so exalted, +could afford to smile. Ever since the days of the first Parliament of +the first Stuart king, the penalties for the sin of witchcraft had +been made increasingly severe. Although the country was now settling +down into an uneasy peace, after the turmoil of the Civil Wars, still +its witch hunts were even yet too recent a memory for a devoted +husband and father to hear the fatal accusation breathed against his +family without dismay. Not all a woman's youth and beauty might always +save her, if the hunt were keen. The Judge's lips were tightly pressed +together, but his unmoved countenance showed little of his inward +alarm as he gazed on the faces round him. His courteous neighbours, +who had ridden in such haste with the 'ill news' that 'travels fast,' +which of them all should enlighten him? His neighbour Captain Sands? a +jovial good-humoured man truly;--no, not he, he could not enter into a +husband and father's deep anxiety, seeing that he was ever of a +mocking disposition inwardly for all that he looked sober and scared +enough now. His brother Justice, John Sawrey? Instinctively Judge Fell +recoiled from the thought. Sawrey's countenance might be sober enough +in good sooth, seeing he was a leader among professing Puritans, but +somehow Judge Fell had always mistrusted the pompous little man. Even +bad news would be worsened if he had to hear it from those lips. +Therefore it was with considerable relief that the good Judge caught +sight of a well-known figure riding up more slowly than the others, +and now hovering on the outskirts of the group. 'The very man! My +honoured neighbour Priest Lampitt! You, the Priest of Ulverston, will +surely tell me what has befallen the members of my household, who are +likewise members of your flock?' + +But the Priest's face was even gloomier than that of the other +gentlemen. In the fewest possible words, but with stinging emphasis, +he told the Judge that the news was indeed too true; his wife and +young family, yea, and even the household servants had, one and all, +been bewitched. + +At this the Judge thought his wisest course was to laugh. 'Nay, nay, +good friends,' he said, 'that is too much! I know my wife. I trust her +good sense utterly. Still it is possible for even the wisest of women +to lose her judgment at times. But as for my trusty steward Thomas +Salthouse, the steadiest man I have ever had in my employ, if even old +Nick himself has managed to bewitch him, he must be a cleverer devil +than I thought.' + +Then drawing himself up proudly he added, 'So now, Gentlemen, I will +thank you to submit to me your evidence for these incredible and +baseless allegations.' Priest Lampitt hastened to explain. He spoke +with due respect of Mistress Fell, his 'honoured neighbour,' as he +called her. ''Tis her well-known kindness of heart that hath led her +astray. She hath warmed a snake in her bosom, a wandering Quaker +Preacher, who hath beguiled and corrupted both herself and her +household.' + +'A wandering, Ranting Quaker entertained in my house, during my +absence!' Judge Fell had an even temper, but the rising flush on his +forehead betokened the effort with which he kept his anger under +control. 'I thank ye, gentles, for your news. My wife and I have ever +right gladly given food and lodging to all true servants of the Lord, +but I will not have any Quakers or Ranters creeping into my house +during my absence and nesting there, to set abroad such tales as ye +have hastened to spread before me this day. Even the wisest woman is +but a woman still, and the sooner I reach home the better.' So saying +he raised his hat, and set spurs to his horse. But little Mr. Justice +Sawrey, edging out of the group officiously, set spurs to his own +horse and trotted after him. Laying a restraining hand on his fellow +Justice's bridle, 'One moment more!' he entreated. ''Tis best you +should know all ere you return. Not only at Swarthmoor, at Ulverston +church also, hath this pestilential fellow caused a disturbance. It +was on the Saturday that he arrived at Swarthmoor Hall, and violently +brawled with our good Friend Lampitt during Mistress Fell's absence +from home.' + +A shade of relief crossed the Judge's face, 'My wife absent! I might +have sworn to it. The maidens are too young to have sober judgment.' +'Nay, but listen,' continued Sawrey, 'the day after he came to the +Hall was not only the Sabbath but also a day of public humiliation. +Our good Priest Lampitt, seeing Mistress Fell surrounded by her family +in the pew at church, trusted, as did we all, that she had sent the +fellow packing speedily about his business. Alack! no such thing, he +was but prowling outside. No sooner did the congregation sing a hymn +than in he came, and boldly standing on a form, asked leave to speak. +Our worthy Priest, the soul of courtesy, consented. Then, oh! the +tedious discourse that fell on our ears, how that the hymn we had sung +was entirely unsuited to our condition, with much talk of Moses and of +John, and I know not what besides, ending up in no less a place than +the Paradise of God! Naturally, none of us, gentles, paid much +attention. I crossed my legs and tried to sleep until the wearisome +business should be ended. When, to my dismay, I was aroused by our +honoured neighbour Mistress Fell standing upright on the seat of her +pew, shrieking with a loud voice: "We are all thieves, we are all +thieves!" This was after the Ranter had finished. While he was yet +speaking, she continued to gaze on him, so says my wife, as if she +were drinking in every word. But afterwards, having loosed this +exclamation about thieves (and she a Justice's wife, forsooth!) she +sat down in her pew once more and began to weep bitterly.' + +'Yes,' interrupted Lampitt, who had also come alongside by this time, +'and he continued to pour forth foul speeches, how that God was come +to teach His people by His own spirit, and to bring them off from all +their old ways and religions and churches and worships, for that they +were all out of the life and spirit, that they was in that gave them +forth.... And so on, until our good friend here,' indicating Sawrey, +'being a Justice of the Peace, called out to the churchwardens, "Take +him away, take the fellow away." Whereat Mistress Fell must needs rise +up again and say to the officers, "Why may he not speak as well as +any other? Let him alone!" And I, willing to humour her----' + +'Yes, more fool you,' interrupted Sawrey rudely, 'you must needs echo +her, and cry, "Let him alone!" else had I safely and securely clapped +him into the stocks.' + +Judge Fell, who had listened with obviously growing impatience, now +broke away from his vociferous companions. Crying once more, 'I thank +you, Sirs, for your well-meant courtesy, but now I pray you to excuse +me and allow me to hasten to my home,' he broke away from the +restraining hands laid upon his bridle and galloped over the sands. +His attendants, who had been waiting at a little distance just out of +earshot, eagerly joined him, and the three figures gradually grew +smaller and then disappeared into the distance. + +The other group of riders departed on their different ways homewards, +well satisfied with their day's work. Not without a parting shot from +fat Captain Sands as they separated. Raising his whip he said +mockingly as he pointed at the Judge's figure riding away in urgent +haste: 'Let us hope he may not find the Fox too Foxy when he expels +him from his earth!' + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[10] 'Being beloved,' the historian says, 'for his justice, wisdom, +moderation, and mercy.' + +[11] 'The sands are left uncovered at low water to a great extent; and +travellers between Lancaster and Furness had formerly to cross from +Hest Bank to Ulverston by the route _brogged_ out by the guides; the +brogs being branches of trees stuck in the sand to mark where the +treacherous way was safest; a dreary distance of about 14 +miles.'--Richardson, _Furness_, i. 14. + + + + +XI. THE JUDGE'S RETURN + + + + + _'The Cross being minded it makes + a separation from all other + lovers, and brings to God.'--G. + FOX._ + + + _'Give up to be crossed;_ that _is + the way to please the Lord and to + follow Him in His own will and + way, whose way is the best.'--M. + FELL._ + + + _'Now here was a time of waiting, + here is a time of receiving, here + is a time of speaking; the Holy + Ghost fell upon them, that they + spoke the wonderful things of + God.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'Mind and consider well the + spirit of Christ in you, that's he + that's lowly in you, that's just + and lowly in you: mind this Spirit + in you, and then whither will you + run, and forsake the Lord of Life? + Will you leave Christ the fountain + which should spring in you and + hunt for yourselves? Should you + not abide within, and drink of + that which springs freely, and + feed on that which is pure, meek + and lowly in spirit, that so you + might grow spiritual men into the + same Spirit, to be as He is, the + sheep of His Pasture? For as is + your pasture, so are you + filled.... And you shall say no + more, I am weak and can do + nothing, but all things through + him who gives you + strength.'--JAMES NAYLER._ + + + + +XI. THE JUDGE'S RETURN + + +Not one of the six maidens ever remembered a home-coming over-clouded +as was Judge Fell's on that thundery afternoon of late July. Sadder, +darker days lay before them in the years to follow, but none more +filled with unacknowledged dread. Was this sad, stern-looking man, who +dismounted wearily from his horse at the high arched gate, really +their indulgent father? He scarcely noticed or spoke to them, as he +tramped heavily towards the house. 'He did not even raise an eye +towards the window where my mother sits, as she hath ever sat, to +welcome him,' young Margrett noticed. The thunder rumbled ominously +overhead. The first big drops fell from the gloomy clouds that had +been gathering for hours; while upstairs, in her panelled chamber, a +big tear splashed on the delicate cambric needlework that lay between +the elder Margaret's fingers, before she laid it aside and descended +the shallow, oaken stairs to greet her husband. + +Margaret Fell looked older and sadder than on the afternoon under the +yew-trees, only three weeks before. There was a new shade of care on +her smooth forehead: yet there was a soft radiance about her that was +also new. Even her voice had gentler tones. She looked as if she had +reached a haven, like a stately ship that, after long tossing in the +waves, now feels itself safely anchored and at rest. + +Happily she has left an account of the Judge's return in her own +words, words as fresh and vivid as if they had been written but +yesterday, instead of more than two hundred and fifty years ago. We +will take up her narrative at the point in Ulverston church at which +Judge Fell broke away from Mr. Justice Sawrey when he was telling him +the same tale from his point of view, on the glistening sands of the +estuary of the Leven. + +'And there was one John Sawrey,' writes Mistress Fell, 'a Justice of +Peace and professor, that bid the church warden take him [George Fox] +away, and he laid hands on him several times, and took them off again, +and let him alone; and then after awhile he gave over and he [G.F.] +came to our house again that night. He spoke in the family amongst the +servants, and they were all generally convinced; as William Caton, +Thomas Salthouse, Mary Askew, Anne Clayton, and several other +servants. And I was struck into such a sadness, I knew not what to do, +my husband being from home. I saw it was the truth, and I could not +deny it; and I did as the Apostle saith, "I received truth in the love +of it;" and it was opened to me so clear, that I had never a tittle in +my heart against it; but I desired the Lord that I might be kept in +it, and then I desired no greater portion.' + +'He went on to Dalton, Aldingham, Dendron and Ramside chapels and +steeple-houses, and several places up and down, and the people +followed him mightily; and abundance were convinced and saw that that +which he spoke was the truth, but the priests were in a rage. And +about two weeks after James Nayler and Richard Farnsworth followed him +and enquired him out, till they came to Swarthmoor, and there stayed +awhile with me at our house, and did me much good; for I was under +great heaviness and judgment. But the power of the Lord entered upon +me within about two weeks that he came, and about three weeks end my +husband came home; and many were in a mighty rage, and a deal of the +captains and great ones of the country went to meet my then husband as +he was coming home, and informed him "that a great disaster was +befallen amongst his family, and that they were witches; and that they +had taken us away out of our religion; and that he must either set +them away, or all the country would be undone."' + +'So my husband came home, greatly offended; and any may think what a +condition I was like to be in, that either I must displease my husband +or offend God; for he was very much troubled with us all in the house +and family, they had so prepossessed him against us. But James Nayler +and Richard Farnsworth were both then at our house, and I desired them +both to come and speak to him, and so they did very moderately and +wisely; but he was at first displeased with them until they told him +"they came in love and goodwill to his house." And after that he had +heard them speak awhile, he was better satisfied, and they offered as +if they would go away; but I desired them to stay and not go away yet, +for George Fox will come this evening. And I would have had my husband +to have heard them all, and satisfied himself further about them, +because they [_i.e._ the neighbours] had so prepossessed him against +them of such dangerous fearful things in his first coming home. And +then he was pretty moderate and quiet, and his dinner being ready he +went to it, and I went in, and sate me down by him. And whilst I was +sitting, the power of the Lord seized upon me, and he was struck with +amazement, and knew not what to think; but was quiet and still. And +the children were all quiet and still, and grown sober, and could not +play on their musick that they were learning; and all these things +made him quiet and still.' + +'At night George Fox came: and after supper my husband was sitting in +the parlour, and I asked him, "if George Fox might come in?" And he +said, "Yes." So George came in without any compliment, and walked into +the room, and began to speak presently; and the family, and James +Nayler, and Richard Farnsworth came all in; and he spoke very +excellently as ever I heard him, and opened Christ's and the apostles' +practices, which they were in, in their day. And he opened the night +of apostacy since the apostles' days, and laid open the priests and +their practices in the apostacy that if all England had been there, I +thought they could not have denied the truth of these things. And so +my husband came to see clearly the truth of what he spoke, and was +very quiet that night, said no more and went to bed. The next morning +came Lampitt, priest of Ulverston, and got my husband in the garden, +and spoke much to him there, but my husband had seen so much the night +before, that the priest got little entrance upon him.... After awhile +the priest went away; this was on the sixth day of the week, about the +fifth month (July) 1652. And at our house divers Friends were speaking +to one another, how there were several convinced hereaways and we +could not tell where to get a meeting: my husband being also present, +he overheard and said of his own accord, "You may meet here, if you +will:" and that was the first meeting that we had that he offered of +his own accord. And then notice was given that day and the next to +Friends, and there was a good large meeting the first day, which was +the first meeting that was at Swarthmoor, and so continued there a +meeting from 1652 till 1690 [when the present Meeting-house, given by +George Fox, was built]. And my husband went that day to the +steeple-house, and none with him but his clerk and his groom that rid +with him; and the priest and the people were all fearfully troubled; +but praised be the Lord, they never got their wills upon us to this +day.' + +George Fox in his Journal also records his first eventful interview +with Judge Fell as follows: + + 'I found that the priests and professors and Justice Sawrey had + much incensed Judge Fell against the truth with their lies; but + when I came to speak with him I answered all his objections, and + so thoroughly satisfied him by the scriptures that he was + convinced in his judgment. He asked me "if I was that George Fox + whom Justice Robinson spoke so much in commendation of among + many of the parliament men?" I told him I had been with Justice + Robinson and Justice Hotham, in Yorkshire, who were very civil + and loving to me. After we had discoursed a pretty while + together, Judge Fell himself was satisfied also, and came to + see, by the openings of the spirit of God in his heart, over all + the priests and teachers of the world, and did not go to hear + them for some years before he died. He sometimes wished I was + awhile with Judge Bradshaw to discourse with him.' + +This was Judge Bradshaw the regicide, and, coming as it did from such +a friend of Cromwell's as Judge Fell, the remark was probably a high +compliment. + +The following year, 1653, George Fox came again to Swarthmoor, where +he says he had 'great openings from the Lord, not only of divine and +spiritual matters, but also of outward things relating to the civil +government. Being one day in Swarthmoor Hall when Judge Fell and +Justice Benson were talking of the news in the newsbook, and of the +Parliament then sitting, (called the long Parliament) I was moved to +tell them, "before that day two weeks the Parliament should be broken +up, and the speaker plucked out of his chair"; and that day two weeks +Justice Benson told Judge Fell that now he saw that George was a true +prophet, for Oliver had broken up the parliament.' Although Judge Fell +never actually joined Friends he was their constant protector and +helper, and, in the words of Fox, 'A wall to the believers.' If he did +not himself attend the meetings in the great Hall at Swarthmoor, he +was wont to leave the door open as he sat in his Justice's chair in +his little oak-panelled study close at hand, and thus hear all that +was said, himself unseen. How entirely his wife had regained his +confidence, and how entirely Lampitt and Sawrey had failed to poison +his mind against her or her new teacher, is shown by the following +letter written about this time, when the Judge was away on one of his +frequent absences. It is the only letter to Judge Fell from his wife +that has been preserved, but it is ample assurance that no shadow had +dimmed the unclouded love of this devoted husband and wife. + + 'Dear Husband,' Margaret writes, 'My dear love and tender + desires to the Lord run forth for thee. I have received a letter + this day from you, and am very glad that the Lord carried you on + your journey so prosperously.... Dear Heart, mind the Lord + above all, with whom is no variableness nor shadow of turning, + and who will overturn all powers that stand before Him.... We + sent to my dear brother James Nayler and he is kept very close + and cannot be suffered to have any fire. He is not free to eat + of the jailor's meat, so they eat very little but bread and + water. He writ to us that they are plotting again to get more + false witnesses to swear against him things that he never spoke. + I sent him 2 lb., but he took but 5 [shillings?]. They are + mighty violent in Westmorland and all parts everywhere towards + us. They bid 5 lb. to any man that will take George anywhere + that they can find him within Westmorland.... The children are + all in health, praised be the Lord. George is not with us now, + but he remembered his dear love to thee.... + + 'Thy dutiful wife till death, + MARGARET FELL.' + + 'Swarthmoor, Feb. 18, 1653.' + + +But whether Margaret Fell ever entirely forgave Justice Sawrey for the +part he had played in trying to alienate her husband from her, is, to +say the least, doubtful. Anyhow, later on she wrote of him as 'a +catterpillar which shall be swept out of the way.' And 'swept out of +the way' he eventually was, some years later, when it is recorded that +'he was drowned in a puddle upon the road coming from York.' But he +was to have time and opportunity to do much harm to Friends, and +especially to George Fox, before that happened, as the next two +stories will show. + + + + +XII. 'STRIKE AGAIN!' + + + + + _'Ulverston consisted of thatched + one storied houses, many old + shops, gabled buildings standing + out towards the street on pillars + beneath which neighbours sheltered + and gossipped. On market days + these projections were filled with + goods to tempt gentry and yeomanry + to open their purse-strings.'--From + 'Home Life in North Lonsdale.'_ + + + _'By the year 1654 "the man with + the leather breeches" as he was + called, had become a celebrity + throughout England, with scattered + converts and adherents everywhere, + but voted a pest and a terror by + the public authorities, the + regular steeple-house clergy, + whether Presbyterian or + Independent, and the appointed + preachers of all the old + sects.'--D. MASSON._ + + + _'For in those days the high and + proud professors and persecutors + were generally bitterly set + against the people called Quakers, + when Presbytery and Independency + swimmed and floated in possession, + and with their long Lectures + against us cried out, "These are + the Antichrists come in the last + times"'--G. WHITEHEAD._ + + + _'For in all things he acquitted + himself like a man, yea, a strong + man, a new and heavenly-minded + man.'--W. PENN of George Fox._ + + + + +XII. 'STRIKE AGAIN!' + + 'Love, Wisdom, and Patience will overcome all that is not of + God.'--G. FOX. + + +By the side of even a low mountain the tallest tower looks small. The +fells that shelter the old market town of Ulverston from northerly +winds are not lofty compared with the range of giants that lies behind +them in the distance, Coniston Old Man, Sca Fell, Skiddaw, Helvellyn, +and their brethren. But the fells are high enough to make the tall old +Church tower of Ulverston look small and toy-like as it rises under +their shadow above the thatched roofs of the old town. + +Swarthmoor Hall stands on a level plateau on the other side of +Ulverston; and it was from Swarthmoor Hall, through a wooded glen by +the side of the stream, that George Fox came down to Ulverston Church, +one 'Lecture Day' at the end of September 1652. + +On a 'Lecture Day' a sermon lasting for several hours was delivered by +an appointed teacher; and when that was finished, anyone who had +listened to it was free to rise and deliver a message in his turn if +he wished to do so. In those days, as there were no clocks or watches +in churches, the length of the sermon was measured by turning an +hour-glass, until all the sand had run out, a certain number of times. +Children, and perhaps grown-up people too, must often have watched the +sand with longing eyes when a sermon of several hours' length was in +process. On this particular day, Priest Lampitt was the appointed +preacher. Lampitt had never forgiven Fox for having persuaded so many +of his hearers, and especially the important ladies of Swarthmoor, to +forsake their Parish Church, and assemble for their own service at +home. His feelings may be imagined, therefore, when, his own sermon +ended, he saw George Fox get up and begin to preach in his turn. + +George Fox says, 'On a Lecture Day I was moved to go to Ulverston +steeple-house, where there was an abundance of professors and +priests,[12] and people. And I went up near to Lampitt who was +blustering on in his preaching, and the Lord opened my mouth to +speak.' + +Now among the 'abundance of people' who were present in the Church was +that same Mr. Justice Sawrey, 'the Catterpillar,' of whom the last two +stories tell. As soon as George Fox opened his mouth and began to +preach, up bustled the Justice to him, with a patronising air, and +said, 'Now, my good fellow, you may have my permission to speak in +this Church, so long as you speak according to the Scriptures.' + +Like lightning, George Fox turned round on the high step where he was +standing near to Priest Lampitt, and saw at his elbow the little +pompous Justice, his face flushed, full of fussiness about his own +dignity and anxious to arrange everything according to his own ideas. + +George Fox, who felt he had a message from God to deliver, had no +intention of being interrupted by any man in this way. + +'I stranged at him,' says Fox, 'for speaking so to me!' + +'Stranged' is an unfamiliar word, no longer used in modern English. It +sounds as if it meant something very fierce, and calls up a picture of +George Fox glaring at his antagonist or trying to shout him down. In +reality it only means that Fox was astonished at his strange +behaviour. + +'I stranged at him and told him that I would speak according to the +Scriptures, and bring the Scriptures to prove what I had to say, for I +had something to say to Lampitt and to them.' 'You shall do nothing of +the kind,' said Mr. Justice Sawrey, contradicting his own words of the +moment before, that Fox might speak so long as he spoke according to +the Scriptures. + +Fox paid no attention to this injunction, but went on calmly with his +sermon. At first the congregation listened quietly. But Fox had made a +new enemy and a powerful one. The little Justice would not be ignored +in this way. He whispered to one and another in the congregation, +'Don't listen to this fellow. Why should he air his notions in our +fine Church? Beat him! Stop his mouth! Duck him in the pond! Teach him +that the men of Ulverston are sensible fellows, and not to be led +astray by a ranting Quaker!' + +These suggestions had their effect. Possibly the congregation agreed +with the speaker. Possibly also, they knew that the little Justice, +though short of stature, was of long memory and an ill man to offend. +Moreover, a magistrate's favour is a useful thing to have at all +times. Perhaps if they hunted Mr. Justice Sawrey's quarry for him in +the daytime, he would be more likely to turn a blind eye the next +moonlight night that they were minded to go out snaring other game, +with fur and feathers, in the Justice's own park! Anyhow, faces began +to grow threatening as the Quaker's discourse proceeded. Presently +loud voices were raised. Still the calm tones flowed on unheeding. At +length, clenched fists were raised; and, at the sight, the smile on +the Justice's face visibly broadened. Nodding his head emphatically, +he seemed to be saying, 'On, men, on!' till at length, like sparks +fanned by a bellows, the congregation's ill-humour suddenly burst into +a flame of rage. When at length rough hands fell upon the Quaker's +shoulders and set all his alchemy buttons a-jingling, Mr. Justice +Sawrey leaned against the back of his high wooden pew, crossed his +legs complacently, and laughed long and loud at the joke. The crowd +took this as a sign that they might do as they chose. They fell upon +Fox, knocked him down, and finally trampled upon him, under the +Justice's own eyes. The uproar became so great that the quieter +members of the congregation were terrified, 'and the people fell over +their seats for fear.' + +At length the Justice bethought himself that such behaviour as this in +a church was quite illegal, since a man had been sentenced, before +now, to lose his hand as a punishment for even striking his neighbour +within consecrated walls. He began to feel uneasily that even the +excellent sport of Quaker-baiting might be carried too far inside the +Church. He came forward, therefore, and without difficulty rescued +George Fox from the hands of his tormentors. But he had not finished +with the Quaker yet. Leading him outside the Church, he there +formally handed him over to the constables, saying, 'Take the fellow. +Thrash him soundly and turn him out of the town,' adding, perhaps, +under his breath, 'and teach him to behave with greater respect +hereafter to a Justice of the Peace!' + +George Fox describes in his own words what happened next. 'They led +me,' says the Journal, 'about a quarter of a mile, some taking hold of +my collar, and some by the arms and shoulders, and shook and dragged +me, and some got hedge-stakes and holme bushes and other staffs. And +many friendly people that was come to the market, and had come into +the steeple-house to hear me, many of them they knocked down and broke +their heads also, and the blood ran down several people so as I never +saw the like in my life, as I looked at them when they were dragging +me along. And Judge Fell's son, running after me to see what they +would do to me, they threw him into a ditch of water and cried, "Knock +the teeth out of his head!"' + +Once well away from the town, apparently, the constables were content +to let their prisoner go, knowing that they might trust their +fellow-townsmen to finish the job with right good will. The mob yelled +with joy to find their prey in their hands at last. With one accord +they fell upon Fox, and endeavoured to pull him down, much as, at the +huntsman's signal, a pack of hounds sets upon his four-footed namesake +with a bushy tail. The constables and officers, too, continued to +assist. Giving him some final blows with willow-rods they thrust Fox +'amid the rude multitude, and they then fell upon me as aforesaid with +their stakes and clubs and beat me on the head and arms and +shoulders, until at last,' their victim says, 'they mazed me, and I +fell down upon the wet common.' + +The crowd had won! George Fox was down at last! He lay, bruised and +fainting, on the wet moss of the common on the far side of the town. +Yes, there he lay for a few moments, stunned, bruised, bleeding, +beaten nigh to death. Only for a few moments, no longer. Very soon his +consciousness returned. Finding himself helpless on the watery common +with the savage mob glowering over him, he says, 'I lay a little still +without attempting to rise. Then suddenly the power of the Lord sprang +through me, and the eternal refreshings revived me, so that I stood up +again in the eternal power of God, and stretched out my arms among +them all and said with a loud voice: "Strike again! Here are my arms, +my head, my cheeks!"' + +Whatever would he do next? What sort of a man was this? The rough +fellows in the circle around him insensibly drew back a little, and +looked in each other's faces with surprise, as they tried to read the +riddle of this disconcerting behaviour. The Quaker would not show +fight! He was actually giving them leave to set upon him and beat him +again! All in a minute, what had hitherto seemed like rare sport began +to be rather poor fun. + +'There's no sense in thrashing a man who doesn't strike back! Better +leave the fellow alone!' some of the more decent-minded whispered to +each other in undertones, and then slunk away ashamed. Only one man, a +mason, well known as the bully of the town, knew no shame. + +'Strike again, sayest thou, Quaker?' he thundered. 'Hast had none but +soft blows hitherto? Faith then, I will strike in good earnest this +time.' So saying, the mason brought a thick wooden rule that he was +carrying down on the outstretched hand before him, with a savage blow +that might have felled an ox. After the first shock of agonising pain +George Fox lost all feeling from his finger-tips right up to his +shoulder. When he tried to draw the wounded hand back to his side he +could not do it. The paralysed nerves refused to carry the message of +the brain. + +'The mason hath made a good job of it this time,' jeered a mocking +voice from the crowd. 'The Quaker hath lost the use of his right hand +for ever.' For ever! Terrible words. George Fox was but a young man +still. Was he indeed to go through life maimed, without the use of his +right hand? The bravest man might have shrunk from such a prospect; +but George Fox did not shrink, because he did not happen to be +thinking of himself at all. His hand was not his own. Not it alone but +his whole body also had been given, long ago, to the service of his +Master. They belonged to Him. Therefore if that Master should need the +right hand of His servant to be used in His service, His Power could +be trusted to make it whole. + +Thus Fox trusted, and not in vain; since all the while, no thoughts of +vengeance or hatred to those who had injured him were able to find +even a moment's lodging in his heart. + +'So as the people cried out, "he hath spoiled his hand for ever having +any use of it more," I LOOKED AT IT IN THE LOVE OF GOD AND I WAS +IN THE LOVE OF GOD TO ALL THEM THAT HAD PERSECUTED ME. AND AFTER A +WHILE THE LORD'S POWER SPRANG THROUGH MY HAND AND ARM AND THROUGH ME, +THAT IN A MINUTE I RECOVERED MY HAND AND ARM AND STRENGTH IN THE FACE +AND SIGHT OF THEM ALL.' + +This miracle, as it seemed to them, overawed the rough mob for a +moment. But some of the greedier spirits saw a chance of making a good +thing out of the afternoon's work for themselves. They came to Fox and +said if he would give them some money they would defend him from the +others, and he should go free. But Fox would not hear of such a thing. +He 'was moved of the Lord to declare unto them the word of life, and +how they were more like Jews and heathens and not like Christians.' + +Thus, instead of thankfully slinking away and disappearing up the hill +by a by-path to the friendly shelter of Swarthmoor, Fox strode boldly +back into the centre of the town of Ulverston with his persecutors, +like a crowd of whipped dogs, following him at his heels. Yet still +they snarled and showed their teeth at times, as if to say, they would +have him yet if they dared. Right into Ulverston market-place he came, +and a stranger sight the old grey town, with its thatched roofs and +timbered houses, had surely never seen. In the middle of the +market-place the one other courageous man in the town came up to him. +This was a soldier, carrying a sword. + +'Sir,' said this gallant gentleman, as he met the bruised and bleeding +Quaker, 'I am ashamed that you, a stranger, should have been thus +ill-treated and abused, FOR YOU ARE A MAN, SIR,' said he. Fox nodded, +and a smile like wintry sunshine stole over his worn face. Silently he +held out his hand. The soldier grasped it. 'In truth, I am grieved,' +he repeated, 'grieved and ashamed that you should have been treated +like this at Ulverston. Gladly will I assist you myself as far as I +can against these cowards, who are not ashamed to set upon an unarmed +man, forty to one, and drag him down.' + +'No matter for that, Friend,' said Fox, 'they have no power to harm +me, for the Lord's power is over all.' With these words he turned and +crossed the crowded market-place again, on his way to leave the town, +and not one of the people dared to touch him. + +But, as everyone prefers both to be defended himself and to defend +others with those weapons in which he himself puts most trust, the +soldier very naturally followed Fox, in case 'the Lord's power' might +also need the assistance of his trusty sword. + +The mob, seeing Fox well protected, turned, like the cowards they +were, and fell upon the other 'friendly people' who were standing +defenceless in the market-place and beat them instead. Their meanness +enraged the soldier. Leaving Fox, he turned and ran upon the mob in +his turn, his naked rapier shining in his hand. + +'My trusty sword shall teach these cravens a lesson at last,' he +thought. Quick as he was, Fox was quicker. He, too, had turned at the +noise, and seeing his defender running at the crowd, and the sunshine +dancing down the steel blade as it gleamed in the air, he also ran, +and dashed up the soldier's weapon before it had time to descend. Then +taking firm hold of the man's right hand, sword and all, 'Thou must +put up thy sword, Friend,' he commanded, 'if thou wilt come along with +me.' Half sulkily, and wholly disappointed, the soldier, in spite of +himself, obeyed. But he insisted on accompanying Fox to the outskirts +of the town. 'You will be safe now, Sir,' he said, and sweeping his +plumed hat respectfully on the ground, as he bowed low to his new +friend, the two parted. + +Nevertheless, not many days thereafter this very gallant gentleman +paid for his chivalrous conduct. No less than seven men fell upon him +at once, and beat him cruelly 'for daring to take the Quaker's part.' +'For it was the custom of this country to run twenty or forty people +upon one man,' adds the Journal, with quiet scorn. 'And they fell so +upon Friends in many places, that they could hardly pass the high +ways, stoning and beating and breaking their heads.' + +But of the punishment in store for his defender, Fox was happily +ignorant that hot afternoon of the riot, as he followed the peaceful +brook through its sheltered glen, and so came up again at last, after +his rough handling, to friendly Swarthmoor, where young George Fell, +escaped from his persecutors and the miry ditch, had arrived before +him. 'And there they were, dressing the heads and hands of Friends and +friendly people that were broken that day by the professors and +hearers of Priest Lampitt,' writes Fox. + +'And my body and arms were yellow, black and blue with the blows and +bruises I received among them that day.' + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[12] Remember always that by 'priest' George Fox only means a man of +any form of religion who was paid for preaching. Lampitt was probably +an Independent. 'Professors,' as we have already seen, are the people +usually called 'Puritans, who 'professed' or made a great show of +being very religious.' + + + + +XIII. MAGNANIMITY + + + + + _'Magnanimity ... includes all + that belongs to a great soul. A + high and mighty Courage, an + invincible Patience, an immovable + Grandeur; which is above the reach + of Injuries; a high and lofty + Spirit allayed with the sweetness + of Courtesy and Respect: a deep + and stable Resolution founded on + Humilitie without any Baseness ... + a generous confidence, and a great + inclination to Heroical deeds; all + these conspire to compleat it, + with a severe and mighty + expectation of Bliss + incomprehensible...._ + + _'A magnanimous soul is always + awake. The whole globe of the Earth + is but a nutshell in comparison + with its enjoyments. The Sun is its + Lamp, the Sea its Fishpond, the + Stars its Jewels, Men, Angels, its + attendance, and God alone its + sovereign delight and supreme + complacency.... Nothing is great if + compared with a Magnanimous soul + but the Sovereign Lord of all the + Worlds.'--REV. THOMAS TRAHERNE (A + Contemporary of G. Fox)._ + + + _'They threw stones upon me that + were so great, that I did admire + they did not kill us; but so + mighty was the power of the Lord, + that they were as a nut or a bean + to my thinking.'--THOMAS BRIGGS, 1685._ + + + + +XIII. MAGNANIMITY + + +Beloved Swarthmoor! Dear home, where kind hearts abode, where gentle +faces and tender hands were ever ready to welcome and bind up the +wounds, both visible and invisible, of any persecuted guest in those +troubled times. Surely, after his terrible experiences on the day of +the riot at Ulverston, George Fox would yield to the entreaties of his +entertainers, and allow himself to be persuaded to rest in peace under +the shadow of the Swarthmoor yew-trees, until the bloodthirsty fury +against all who bore the name of Quaker, and against himself in +particular, should have somewhat lessened in the neighbourhood? Far +from it. To 'Flee from Storms' was never this strong man's way.[13] +Gentle reeds and delicate grasses may bow as the storm-wind rushes +over them. The sturdy oak-tree, with its tough roots grappling firmly +underground, stubbornly faces the blast. George Fox, 'ever Stiff as a +Tree,' by the admission even of his enemies, barely waited for his +'yellow, black and blue' bruises to disappear before he came forth +again to encounter his foes. Certain priests had however taken +advantage of this short enforced absence to 'put about a prophecy' +that he had disappeared for good, and 'that within a year all these +Quakers would be utterly put down.' Great, therefore, must have been +their chagrin to hear, only a short fortnight after the Lecture Day at +Ulverston, that the hated 'Man in Leather Breeches' was off once more +on his dangerous career. + +Fox's companion on this journey was that same James Nayler who had +followed him on his first visit to Swarthmoor, a few weeks previously. +Nayler was one of the most brilliantly gifted of all those early +comrades of George Fox, who were hereafter to earn the name of 'the +Valiant Sixty.' Clouds and sorrows were to separate the two friends in +years to come, but at this time they were united in heart and soul, +both alike given up to the joyful service of 'Publishing Truth.' The +object of their journey was to visit another recent convert, James +Lancaster by name, in his home on the Island of Walney that lies off +the Furness coast. + +On the way thither the travellers spent one night at a small town on +the mainland called Cockan. Here, as usual, they held a meeting with +the inhabitants of the place, in order to proclaim the message that +possessed them. Their words had already convinced one of their +hearers, and more converts to the Truth might have followed, when +suddenly, at a low window of the hall where they were assembled, a +man's figure appeared, threatening the audience with a loaded pistol +which he carried in his hand. As this pistol was pointed, first at one +and then at another of George Fox's listeners, all the terrified +people sprang to their feet and rushed through the doors of the hall +as fast as their legs could carry them. Their alarm was natural; +probably most, if not all of them, had seen fire-arms used in grim +earnest before this, for the period of the Civil Wars was too recent +to have faded from anyone's memory. + +'I am not after you, ye timid sheep,' shouted the man with the pistol +as the scared people fled past him. 'It is that Deceiver who is +leading you all astray that I have to do with. Come out and meet me, +George Fox,' he shouted, 'if you call yourself a Man.' + +There was no need to ask twice. 'Here I am, Friend,' answered a quiet +voice, as the well-known figure, in its wide white hat, long coat, +leather breeches and doublet, and girdle with alchemy buttons, +appeared standing in the doorway. Then, passing calmly through it, +George Fox drew up scarce three paces from his assailant--his body +making a large target at close range that it would be impossible to +miss. The frightened people paused in their flight to watch. Were they +going to see the Quaker slain? The stranger raised his pistol; he +aimed carefully. Not a muscle of Fox's countenance quivered. Not an +eyelash moved. The trigger snapped.... + +Nothing happened! The pistol did not go off. As if by a miracle the +Quaker was saved. + +Seeing this wonderful escape of their leader, some of the other men's +courage returned. They rushed back to assist him. They threw +themselves upon his assailant and wrenched the pistol from his hand, +vowing he should do no further mischief. Fox, seeing in his adversary, +not an enemy who had just sought his life, but a fellow-man with a +'Seed of God' hidden somewhere within him and therefore a possible +soul to be won, was 'moved in the Lord's power to speak to him; and he +was struck with the Lord's power' (small wonder!) 'so that he went and +hid himself in a cellar and trembled for fear. + +'And so the Lord's power came over them all, though there was a great +rage in the country.' + +The Journal continues (but it was written many years later, remember, +when the account of what had happened could not bring anyone into +trouble): 'And ye next morning I went over in a boat to James +Lancaster's, and as soon as I came to land there rushed out about +forty men, with staffs, clubs, and fishing-poles, and fell upon me +with them, beating, punching, and thrust me backwards into the sea. +And when they had thrust me almost into the sea, I stood up and went +into the middle of them again, but they all laid on me again and +knocked me down and mazed me. And when I was down and came to myself, +I looked up and saw James Lancaster's wife throwing stones at my face, +and her husband lying over me, to keep the stones and blows off me. +For the people had persuaded James's wife that I had bewitched her +husband, and had promised her that if she would let them know when I +came hither they would be my death. + +'So at last I got up in the power of God over them all, and they beat +me down into the boat. And so James Lancaster came into the boat to me +and so he set me over the water. + +'And James Nayler we saw afterwards that they were beating of him. For +while they were beating of me, he walked up into a field, and they +never minded him till I was gone, and then they fell upon him, and all +their cry was "Kill him!" "Kill him!" When I was come over to the town +again, on the other side of the water, the townsmen rose up with +pitchforks, flails, and staves to keep me out of the town, crying, +"Kill him! knock him on the head! bring the cart and carry him to the +churchyard." And so they abused me and guarded me with all those +weapons a pretty way out of the town, and there at last, the Lord's +power being over them all, they left me. Then James Lancaster went +back again to look for James Nayler. So I was alone and came to a +ditch of water and washed me, for they had all dirted me, and wet and +mired my clothes, my hands and my face. + +'I walked a matter of three miles to Thomas Hutton's, where Thomas +Lawson the priest lodged, who was convinced. And I could hardly speak +to them when I came in I was so bruised. And so I told them where I +had left James Nayler, and they went and took each of them a horse, +and brought him thither that night. And I went to bed, but I was so +weak with bruises that I was not able to turn me. And the next day, +they hearing of it at Swarthmoor, they sent a horse for me. And as I +was riding the horse knocked his foot against a stone and stumbled, so +that it shook me so and pained me, as it seemed worse to me than all +the blows, my body was so tortured. So I came to Swarthmoor, and my +body was exceedingly bruised.' + +Even within the sheltering walls of Swarthmoor, this time persecution +followed. Justice Sawrey had not yet forgiven the Quaker for his +behaviour on the day of the riot. He must have further punishment. So +right up to Swarthmoor itself came constables with a warrant signed by +two Justices (Sawrey of course being one of them), that a certain man +named George Fox was to be apprehended as a disturber of the peace. +And clapped into gaol George Fox would have been, wounded and bruised +as he was, in spite of all that his gentle hostesses could do to +prevent it, had it not happened that, just as the constables arrived +to execute this order, the master of the house, good Judge Fell +himself, must needs return once more, in the very nick of time, home +to Swarthmoor. His mere presence was a defence. + +He had been away again on circuit all this time that George Fox had +been so cruelly treated in the neighbourhood, and had therefore known +nothing of the rioting during his absence. Now that he was back at +home again, straightway everything went well. The roof seemed to grow +all at once more sheltering, the walls of the old hall to become +thicker and more able to protect its inmates, when once the master of +the house was safely at home once more. + +The six girls ran up and down stairs more lightly, smiling with relief +whenever they met each other in the rooms and passages. Long +afterwards, in the troubled years that were to follow, when there was +no indulgent father to protect them and their mother and their friends +from the bitter blast of persecution, many a time did the maidens of +Swarthmoor recall that day. They remembered how, weeping, they had run +down to the high arched gate of the orchard to meet their father, and +to tell him what was a-doing up at the Hall. Thus they drew near the +house, the Judge's dark figure half hidden among his muslined maidens, +even as the dark old yews are hidden in spring by the snowy-blossomed +apple-trees. When they saw the Judge himself coming towards them, the +constables drawn up in the courtyard began to look mighty foolish. +They approached with gestures of respect, giving a short account of +what had happened at Walney, and holding out the warrant, signed by +two justices, as an apology for their presence at Judge Fell's own +Hall during his absence. + +All their excuses availed them little. Judge Fell could look stern +enough when he chose, and now his eyes flashed at this invasion of +his home. + +'What brings you here, men? A warrant for the apprehension of George +Fox, _MY GUEST_? Are my brother Justices not aware then that I am a +Justice too, and Vice-Chancellor of the county to boot? Under this +roof a man is safe, were he fifty times a Quaker. But, since ye are +here' (this with a nod and a wink, as the constables followed the +Judge up the flagged path and by a side door into his oak-panelled +study), 'since ye are here, men, I will give you other warrants +a-plenty to execute instead. Those riotous folk at Walney Island are +well known to me of old. It is high time they were punished. Take +this, and see that the ringleaders who assaulted my guest are +themselves clapped into Lancaster Gaol forthwith.' + +Well pleased to get off with nothing but a reprimand, the constables +departed, and carried out their new mission with right good will. The +rioters were apprehended, and some of them were forced to flee from +the country. In time James Lancaster's wife came to understand better +the nature of the 'witchcraft' that George Fox had used upon her +husband. She too was 'convinced of Truth.' Later on, after she had +herself become a Friend, she must often have looked back with remorse +to the sad day when her husband had been forced to defend his loved +and revered teacher with his own body from her blows and stones. + +Meanwhile at Swarthmoor there had been great rejoicing over the +discomfiture of the constables. No sooner had they departed down the +flagged path than back flitted the bevy of girls again into the study, +until the small room was full to overflowing. It was like seeing a +company of fat bumble-bees, their portly bodies resplendent in black +and gold, buzz heavily out of a room, and a gay flight of pale-blue +and lemon butterflies flit back in their places. All the daughters +fell upon their father, Margaret, Bridget, Isabel, Sarah, Mary, and +Susanna; there they all were! tugging off his heavy riding-boots and +gaiters, putting away the whip on the whip-rack, while little Mary +perched herself proudly on his knee and put up her face for a kiss; +and, all the time, such a talk went on as never was about Friend +George Fox and the sufferings he had undergone, each girl telling the +story over and over again. + +'Now, now, maids!' said the kind father at last, 'I have heard enough +of your chatter. It is time for you to depart and send Mr. Fox hither +to me himself. 'Tis a stirring tale, even told by maidens' lips; I +would fain hear it at greater length from the man himself. He shall +tell me, in his own words, all that he hath suffered, and the vile +usage he hath met with at the hands of his enemies.' + +A few minutes later, a steady step was heard crossing the hall and +ascending the two shallow stairs that led to the Justice's private +sanctum. As George Fox entered the room Judge Fell rose from his seat +at the writing-table to receive his guest, and clasped his hand with a +hearty greeting. + +The study at Swarthmoor is only a small room; but when those two +strong men were both in it together, facing each other with level +brows and glances of unclouded trust, the small room seemed suddenly +to grow larger and more spacious. It was swept through by the wide +free airs of heaven, where full-grown spirits can meet and recognise +one another unhindered. They disagreed often, these two determined, +powerful men. They owned different loyalties and held different +opinions; but from the day they first met to the day they parted they +respected and trusted one another wholly, and for this each man in his +heart gave thanks to God. + +George Fox began by asking his host how his affairs had prospered; but +when, these enquiries answered, the Judge in his turn questioned his +guest of the rough usage he had met with both at Ulverston and in the +Island of Walney, to his surprise no details were forthcoming. Had the +Judge not had full particulars from his daughters as well as from the +constables, he would have thought that nothing of much moment had +occurred. George Fox apparently took no interest in the subject; the +most he would say, in answer to his host's repeated enquiries, was +that 'the people could do no other, in the spirit in which they were. +They did but show the fruits of their priest's ministry and their +profession and religion to be wrong.' + +'I' faith, Margaret, thy friend is a right generous man,' the good +Judge remarked to his wife, that same night, a few hours later, when +they were at length alone together in their chamber. The festoons of +interlaced roses and lilies, carved in high relief on the high black +oak fireplace, shone out clearly in the glow of two tall candles above +their heads. + +'In truth, dear Heart,' he continued, taking his wife's hand in his, +and drawing her fondly to him, 'in truth, though I said not so to him, +the Quaker doth manifest the fruits of his religion to be right, by +his behaviour to his foes. All stiff and bruised though he was, he +made nothing of his injuries. When I would have enquired after his +hurts, he would only say the Power of the Lord had surely healed him. +FOR THE REST, HE MADE NOTHING OF IT, AND SPOKE AS A MAN WHO HAD NOT +BEEN CONCERNED.' + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[13] 'Flee from Storms' is a motto in the note-book of Leonardo da +Vinci. + + + + +XIV. MILES HALHEAD AND THE HAUGHTY LADY + + + + + _'Many a notable occurrence Miles + Halhead had in his life.... But + his going thus often from home was + a great cross to his wife, who in + the first year of his change, not + being of his persuasion, was often + much troubled in her mind, and + would often say from discontent, + "Would to God I had married a + drunkard, then I might have found + him at the alehouse; but now I + cannot tell where to find my + husband."'--SEWEL._ + + + _To Friends--To take care of such + as suffer for owning the Truth._ + + _'And that if any friends be + oppressed any manner of way, others + may take care to help them: and + that all may be as one family, + building up one another and helping + one another.'_ + + + _'And, friends, go not into the + aggravating part to strive with + it, lest you do hurt to your + souls, and run into the same + nature; for PATIENCE MUST GET THE + VICTORY, and it answers to that of + God in everyone and will bring + everyone from the contrary. So let + your temperance and moderation and + patience be known to all.'--GEORGE + FOX._ + + + _'Non tristabit justum quidquid si + accederit.'_ + + _'Whatever happens to the righteous + man it shall not heavy + him.'--RICHARD ROLLE. 1349._ + + + + +XIV. MILES HALHEAD AND THE HAUGHTY LADY + + +A Plain, simple man was Miles Halhead, the husbandman of Mountjoy. Ten +years older than Fox was he, and wise withal, so that men wondered to +see him forsake his home and leave wife and child at the call of the +Quaker's preaching, and go forth instead to become a preacher of the +Gospel. + +Yet, truth to tell, the change was natural and easily explained. All +his life Miles had had to do with seeds buried in the ground. +Therefore when he heard George Fox preach at his home near Underbarrow +in Westmorland, telling all men to consider 'that as the fallow ground +in their fields must be ploughed up before it would bear seed to them, +so must the fallow ground of their hearts be ploughed up before they +could bear seed to God,' Miles' own past experience as a husbandman +bore witness to the truth of this doctrine. His whole nature sprang +forward to receive it; and thus, in a short while, he was mightily +convinced. + +Now at that time there were, as we know, many companies of Seekers +scattered up and down the pleasant Westmorland dales. Miles himself +had been one of such a group, but now, having found that which he had +aforetime been a-seeking, nought was of any value to him, but that his +old companions should likewise cease to be Seekers, and become also in +their turn Finders. Yet Miles wondered often how such an one as he +should be able to convince them. For he was neither skilful nor ready +of tongue, nor of a commanding presence like Friend George Fox, but +only a simple husbandman. Still he was wary in his discourse, from +his long watching of the faces of Earth and Sky--full also he was of a +most convincing silence; and, though as yet he had proved it not, +staunch to suffer for his faith. It was said of him that 'his +Testimony was plaine and powerful, he being a plain simple man.' + +Thus Miles Halhead began to preach the Gospel, at first only in the +hamlets and valleys round his home at Underbarrow near to Kendal. But +one day when the daffodils were all abloom, and blowing their golden +trumpets silently beside the sheltered streams, it came to him that he +must take a further journey, and must follow the golden paths of the +daffodils over hill and vale, until at the end of this street of gold +he should come to Swarthmoor Hall; that there he might assist his +friends at their Meeting, and with them be strengthened and have his +soul refreshed. + +A walk of seventeen miles or so lay before him, and an easy journey it +should prove in this gay springtime, though in winter, when the snow +lay drifted on the uplands, it would have been another matter. He +could have travelled by the sheltered road that runs through the +valley. It being springtime, however, and a sunny day when Miles set +out from his home, he chose for pure pleasure to go by the fells. +First, he travelled across the Westmorland country till he came to the +lower end of Lake Winandermere, where the hills lie gently round like +giants' children, being not yet full grown into giants themselves with +brows that touch the sky, as they are at the upper end of that same +shining lake. Then, leaving Winandermere, across the Furness fells he +came, keeping ever on his right hand the Old Man of Coniston, who, +with his head for the most part wrapped in clouds, standeth yet, as he +hath stood for ages, the Guardian of all that region. + +Thus at length, as Miles journeyed, he came within sight of the +promontory of Furness, that lies encircled by the sea, even as a +babe's head lies in the crook of a woman's elbow. Seeing this, Miles' +heart rejoiced, for he knew that his journey's end was in sight, and +he tramped along blithely and without fear. + +Suddenly, on the path at some distance ahead of him, he saw a patch of +brilliant green and purple coming towards him--a gay figure more +likely to be met with in the streets of London than on those lonely +fells. Miles thought to himself as it drew nearer, ''Tis a woman!' +then, 'Nay, it is surely a great Thistle coming towards me; no woman +would wear garments such as those in this lonely place.' As he shaded +his eyes the better to see what might be approaching, his mind ran +back to the first sermon he had ever heard George Fox preach, on his +first visit to Underbarrow, when he said, 'That all people in the Fall +were gone from the image of God, righteousness and holiness, and were +degenerated into the nature of beasts, of serpents, of tall cedars, of +oaks, of bulls and of heifers.' ... 'Some were in the nature of dogs +and swine, biting and rending; some in the nature of briars, thistles +and thorns; some like the owls and dragons in the night; some like the +wild asses and horses snuffing up the wind; and some like the +mountains and rocks, and crooked and rough ways.' 'I was not certain +of his meaning when I first heard him utter these words,' simple Miles +thought to himself, 'but now that I see this fine Thistle coming +towards me, I begin to understand him. Haply it is but a Thistle in +outer seeming, and carries within the nature of a Lily or a Rose.' + +Even as he thought of this, the Thistle came yet nearer, and when he +could see it more plainly he feared that neither Lily nor Rose was +there, but a Thistle full of prickles in very truth. It was indeed a +woman, but clad in more gorgeous raiment than Miles had ever seen. +Green satin was her robe, slashed with pale yellow silk, marvellous to +behold. But it was the hat that drew Miles' gaze, for though newly +come to be a Quaker preacher, he had been a husbandman long enough to +be swift to notice the garb of all growing, living things, whether +they were flowers or dames. Truly the hat was marvellous, of a bright +purple satin, and crowned with such a tuft of tall feathers that the +wearer's face could scarcely be seen beneath its shade. Dressed all in +gaudy style was this fine Madam; and, as she passed Miles, she tilted +up her head and drew her skirts disdainfully together, lest they +should be soiled by his approach. Although the lady appeared to see +him not, but to be gazing at the sky, she was in truth well aware of +his presence, and awaited even hungrily a lowly obeisance from him, +that should assure her in her own sight of her own importance. For of +no high-born lineage was this flaunting dame, no earl's or duke's +daughter, else perhaps she had been too well aware of her own dignity +and worth to insist upon others acknowledging it. She was but the +young wife of the old Justice, Thomas Preston, and a plain Mistress, +like Miles' own simple wife at home, in spite of her gay garments and +flaunting airs. But the fact that she had newly come to live at Holker +Hall, the finest mansion in all that country-side, had uplifted her +in her own sight, and puffed her out with pride, sending her forth at +all hours into unseasonable places to show off her fine new London +clothes. + +Therefore she paused a little as she passed Miles, waiting for him to +doff his hat and bend his knee, and declare himself in all lowliness +her servant. But Miles had never a thought of doing this. Though he +was but newly turned Quaker, right well he remembered hearing George +Fox say-- + +'Moreover, when the Lord sent me forth into the world, He forbade me +to put off my hat to any--high or low--and I was required to "thee" +and "thou" all men and women, without any respect to rich or poor, +great or small. And as I travelled up and down, I was not to bid +people "Good-morrow," or "Good-evening," neither might I bow or scrape +with the leg to anyone, and this made the sects and the professors to +rage.' + +Miles, too, having learnt this lesson and made it his own, passed by +the lady in all soberness and quietness, taking no more notice of her +than if she had been one of those dames painted on canvas by the late +King's painter, Sir Anthony Van Dyck, which, truth to tell, she +mightily resembled. The haughty fair one seeing this, as soon as he +had fully passed and she could no longer delude herself with the hope +that the longed-for salute was coming, was vastly and mightily +incensed. It was not her hat alone that was thistle colour then: her +face, her forehead, her neck all blazed and burned in one purple flush +of rage. Only her cheeks stayed a changeless crimson, and that for a +very excellent reason, easy to guess. Violently she turned herself to +a serving-man who was following in her train, following so humbly, and +being so much hidden by Madam's fallals and furbelows, that until that +moment Miles had not even seen that he was there. + +'Back, sirrah!' she said in a loud, angry voice, speaking to the man +as if he had been a dog or a horse, 'back with thy staff and beat that +unmannerly knave till thou hast taught him 'twere well he should learn +to salute his betters.' + +The servant was tired of following his lady like a lap-dog, and +attending to all her whims and whimsies. Scenting sport more nearly to +his liking, he obeyed, nothing loath. He fell upon Miles and beat him +lustily and stoutly, expecting every moment that he would resist or +beg for mercy. + +Mistress Preston meanwhile, having turned full round, watched the +thwacking blows, and counted each one as it fell, with a smile of +pleasure. But her smile speedily became an angry frown, for Miles, +well knowing to whom his chastisement was due, paid no heed to the +serving-man, let him lay on never so soundly, but turned himself round +under the blows, and cried out in a loud voice to her: 'Oh, thou +Jezebel, thou proud Jezebel, canst thou not permit and suffer the +servant of the Lord to pass by thee quietly?' + +Now at that word 'Jezebel,' Mistress Preston's anger was yet more +mightily inflamed against Miles, for she knew that he had discovered +the reason why her cheeks had remained pink, and flushed not thistle +purple like the rest of her countenance. Even the serving-man smiled +to himself, a mocking smile, and hummed in a low voice, as he +continued to lay the blows thickly on Miles, a ditty having this +refrain-- + + 'Jezebel, the proud Queen, + Painted her face,' + +He did not suppose that his mistress would recognise the tune; but +recognise it she did, and it increased her anger yet more, if that +were possible. She flung out both hands in a fury, as if she would +herself have struck at Miles, then, thinking him not fit for her +touch, she changed her mind, and spat full in his face. Oh, what a +savage Thistle was that woman, and worse far than any Thistle in her +behaviour! Loudly, too, she exclaimed, 'I scorn to fall down at thy +words!' Her meaning in saying this is not fully clear, but it may be, +as Miles had called her Jezebel, she meant that no one should ever +cast her down from her high estate, as Jezebel was cast down from the +window in the Palace, whence she mocked at Jehu. This made Miles +testify yet once more--'Thou proud Jezebel,' said he, 'thou that +hardenest thine heart and brazenest thy face against the Lord and His +servant, the Lord will plead with thee in His own time and set in +order before thee the things thou hast this day done to His servant.' + +By this time the lady's lackey had at length stopped his beating, not +out of mercy to Miles, but simply because his arm was weary. Yet he +still kept humming under his breath another verse of the same ditty, +ending-- + + 'Jezebel, the proud Queen, + 'Tired her hair!' + +Miles, therefore, being loosed from his hands, parted from both +mistress and man, and left them standing without more words and +himself passed on, bruised and buffeted, to continue his journey in +sore discomfort of body until he came to Swarthmoor. + +Arrived at that gracious home, his friends comforted him and bound up +his aching limbs, as indeed they were well accustomed to do in those +days, when the guests who arrived at Swarthmoor had too often been +sorely mishandled. Even to this day, in all the lanes around, may be +seen the walls composed of sharp, grey, jagged stones, over which is +creeping a covering of soft golden moss. So in those old days of which +I write, men, aye and women too, often came to Swarthmoor torn and +bleeding, perhaps sometimes with anger in their hearts (though Miles +Halhead was not of these), and all alike found their inward and +outward wounds staunched and assuaged by the never-failing sympathy of +kindly hearts, and hands more soft than the softest golden moss. + +Thus Miles Halhead was comforted of his friends at Swarthmoor, and +inwardly refreshed. Yet the matter of his encounter with the haughty +lady, and of her prickly thistle nature, rested on his mind, and he +could not be content without giving her yet one more chance to doff +her prickles and become a sweet and fragrant flower in the garden of +the Lord. Therefore, three months later, being continually urged +thereunto by 'the true Teacher which is within,' he determined to take +yet another journey and come himself to Holker Hall, and ask to speak +with its mistress and endeavour to bring her to a better mind. Thither +then in due course he came. Now a mansion surpassing grand is Holker +Hall, the goodliest in all that country-side. And a plain man and a +simple, as has been said, was Miles Halhead the husbandman of +Mountjoy, even among the Quakers--who were none of them gay gallants. +Nevertheless, being full of a great courage though small in stature, +all weary and travel-stained as he was, to Holker Hall Miles Halhead +came. He would not go to any back door or side door, seeing that his +errand was to the mistress of the stately building. He walked +therefore right up the broad avenue till he came to the front +entrance, with its grand portico, where a king had been welcomed +before now. + +As luck would have it, the door stood open as the Quaker approached, +and the mistress of Holker Hall herself happened to be passing through +the hall behind. She paused a moment to look through the open door, +intending most likely to mock at the odd figure she saw approaching. +But on that instant she recognised Miles as the man who had called her +Jezebel. Now Miles at first sight did not recognise her, and was +doubtful if this could be the haughty Thistle lady he sought, or if it +were not a Lily in very truth. For Mistress Preston was clad this hot +day in a lily-like frock of white clear muslin, all open at the neck +and short enough to show her ankles and little feet, and tied with a +blue ribbon round the waist, a garb most innocent to look upon, and +more suited to a girl in her teens than to the Justice's wife, the +buxom mistress of Holker Hall. + +Therefore Miles, not recognising her, did ask her if she were in truth +the woman of the house. To which she, seeing his uncertainty, answered +lyingly: 'No, that I am not, but if you would speak with Mistress +Preston, I will entreat her to come to you.' + +Even as the words left her lips, Miles was sensible that she was +speaking falsely, seeing how, even under the paint, her cheeks took on +a deeper hue. And she, ever mindful that it was that same man who had +called her Jezebel, went into the house and returning presently with +another woman, declared that here was Mistress Preston, and demanded +what was his will with her. No sooner had she spoken a second time +than it was manifested to Miles with perfect clearness that she +herself and none other was the woman he sought. Wherefore, in spite of +her different dress and girlish mien, he said to her, 'Woman, how +darest thou lie before the Lord and His servant?' + +And she, being silent, not speaking a word, he proceeded, 'Woman, hear +thou what the Lord's servant hath to say unto thee,--O woman, harden +not thy heart against the Lord, for if thou dost, He will cut thee off +in His sore displeasure; therefore take warning in time, and fear the +Lord God of Heaven and Earth, that thou mayest end thy days in peace.' +Having thus spoken he went his way; she, how proud soever, not seeking +to stay him nor doing him any harm, but standing there silent and dumb +under the tall pillars of the door, being withheld and stilled by +something, she knew not what. + +Yet her thistle nature was not changed, though, for that time, her +prickles were blunted. It chanced that several years later, when +George Fox was a prisoner at Lancaster, this same gay madam came to +him and 'belched out many railing words,' saying among the rest that +'his tongue should be cut off, and he be hanged.' Instead of which, it +was she herself that was cut off and died not long after in a +miserable condition. + +Thus did Mistress Preston of Holker Hall refuse to bow her haughty +spirit, yet the matter betwixt her and Miles ended not altogether +there. For it happened that another April day, some three springs +after Miles Halhead had encountered her the first time, as he was +again riding from Swarthmoor towards his home near Underbarrow, and +again being come near to Holker Hall, he met a man unknown to him by +sight. This person, as Miles was crossing a meadow full of daffodils +that grew beside a stream, would not let him pass, as he intended, but +stopped and accosted him. 'Friend,' said he to Miles, 'I have +something to say to you which hath lain upon me this long time. I am +the man that about three years ago, at the command of my mistress, did +beat you very sore; for which I have been very troubled, more than for +anything which ever I did in all my life: for truly night and day it +hath been in my heart that I did not well in beating an innocent man +that never did me any hurt or harm. I pray you forgive me and desire +the Lord to forgive me, that I may be at peace and rest in my mind.' + +To whom Miles answered, 'Truly, friend, from that time to this day I +have never had anything in my heart towards either thee or thy +mistress but love. May God forgive you both. As for me, I desire that +it may not be laid to your charge, for you knew not what you did.' +Here Miles stopped and gave the man his hand and forthwith went on his +way; and the serving-man went on his way; both of them with a glow of +brotherhood and fellowship within their hearts. While the daffodils +beside the stream looked up with sunlit faces to the sun, as they blew +on their golden trumpets a blast of silent music, for joy that ancient +injury was ended, and that in its stead goodwill had come. + + + + +XV. SCATTERING THE SEED + + + + + _'As early as 1654 sixty-three + ministers, with their headquarters + at Swarthmoor, and undoubtedly + under central control, were + travelling the country upon + "Truth's ponies"'--JOHN WILHELM + ROWNTREE._ + + + _'It is interesting to note and + profitable to remember, how large + a part these sturdy shepherds and + husbandmen, from under the shade + of the great mountains, had in + preaching the doctrines of the + Inward Light and of God's + revelation of Himself to every + seeking soul, in the softer and + more settled countries of the + South.'--THOMAS HODGKIN._ + + + _'Some speak to the conscience; + some plough and break the clods; + some weed out, and some sow; some + wait that fowls devour not the + seed. But wait all for the + gathering of the simple-hearted + ones.'... 1651._ + + _'Friends, spread yourselves + abroad, that you may be serviceable + for the Lord and His Truth.' 1654._ + + _'Love the Truth more than all, and + go on in the mighty power of God, + as good soldiers of Christ, + well-fixed in His glorious gospel, + and in His word and power; that you + may know Him, the life and + salvation and bring up others into + it.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'Go! Set the whole world on fire + and in flames!'--IGNATIUS LOYOLA. + (To one whom he sent on a distant + mission.)_ + + + + +XV. SCATTERING THE SEED + + +In Springtime the South of England is a Primrose Country. Gay carpets +of primroses are spread in the woods; shy primroses peep out like +stars in sheltered hedgerows; vain primroses are stooping down to look +at their own faces in pools and streams, there are primroses, +primroses everywhere. But in the North of England their 'paly gold' +used to be a much rarer treasure. True, there were always a few +primroses to be found in fortunate spots, if you knew exactly where to +look for them; but they were not scattered broadcast over the country +as they are further South. + +Therefore, North Country children never took primroses as a matter of +course, they did not tear them up roughly, just for the fun of +gathering them, drop them heedlessly the next minute and leave them on +the road to die. North Country children used their precious holiday +time to seek out their favourite flowers in their rare hiding-places. + +'I've found one!' 'So have I!' 'There they are; two, three, +four,--lots!' 'I see them!' The air would be full of delighted +exclamations as the children scampered off, short legs racing, rosy +cheeks flushing, bright eyes glowing with eagerness, to see who could +take home the largest bunch. + +The further north a traveller went, the rarer did primroses become, +till in Northumberland, the most northerly county of all, primroses +used to be very scarce indeed. Until, only a few years ago, a +wonderful thing happened. There were days and weeks and months of +warm sunny weather all through the spring and summer in that +particular year. Old people smiled and nodded to one another as they +said: 'None of us ever remembers a spring like this before!' + +The tender leaves and buds and flowers undid their wrappings in a +hurry to be first to catch sight of the sun, whose warm fingers had +awakened them, long before their usual time, from their winter sleep. +All over England the spring flowers had a splendid time of it that +year. + +Even the few scattered primroses living in what Southerners call 'the +cold grey North' were obviously enjoying themselves. Their smooth, +pale-yellow faces opened wider, and grew larger and more golden, day +by day: while new, soft, pointed buds came poking up through their +downy green blankets in unexpected places. Moreover, the warm weather +lasted right through the summer. Not only did far more primroses +flower than usual, but also, after they had faded, there was plenty of +warmth to ripen the precious seed packet that each one had carried at +its heart. No wonder the children clapped their hands, that joyous +spring, when their treasures were so plentiful; but they feared that +they would never have such good luck again, even if they lived to be +as old as the old people who had 'never seen such a spring before.' + +It was not until a year later that the delighted children discovered +that the long spell of sunshine and the Enchanter Wind had worked a +lasting magic. The ripened seed had been scattered far and wide. The +primroses had come to the North to stay; and new Paradises were +springing up everywhere. + +Now this is a primrose parable of many things, and worth remembering. +Among other things it is an illustration of the change that was +wrought all over England by the preaching of George Fox. + +Think once again of the long bleak years of his youth, when he was +struggling in a dark world into which it seemed as if no ray of light +could pierce; when he and everyone else seemed to be frozen up in a +wintry religion, without life or warmth. Then think how at length he +felt the sap rising in his own soul, turning his whole being to the +Light, as he found 'there is one, even Christ Jesus, that can speak to +thy condition.' This discovery taught him that in all other men's +hearts too, if they only knew, there was 'that of God.' Henceforward, +to proclaim that Light to others and the seed within their own hearts +that responds to the beams of the Sun of Righteousness, was the +service to which George Fox devoted his whole life. As his own being +blossomed in the spiritual sunshine of his great discovery, he was +able to persuade hundreds and thousands of other frozen hearts to +yield themselves and turn to the Light, and open and blossom also in +that same sunshine. A greater wonder followed. Those other lives, as +they yielded themselves, began to ripen too, in different ways, but +silently and surely, until they in their turn were ready to scatter +the new seed, or, in the language of their day, to 'Publish Truth' up +and down all over the country, until the whole face of England was +changed. + +By the time of George Fox's death, more than one out of every hundred +among all the people of England was a Friend. But the Friends never +regarded themselves as a Sect, although Sects were flourishing at +that time. In 1640 it is said that twenty new kinds of Sects blossomed +out in the course of one week. George Fox and his followers believed +that the discovery they had made was meant for everybody, as much as +sunshine is. Other people nicknamed them 'Quakers,' but they always +spoke of themselves by names that the whole world was welcome to +share: 'Children of the Light,' 'Friends of the Truth,' or simply +'Friends.' There was nothing exclusive about such names as these. +There was no such thing as membership in a society then or for more +than fifty years afterwards. Anyone who was convinced by what he had +heard, and lived in the spirit of what he professed, became 'Truth's +Friend' in his turn. + +Neither was there anything exclusive in George Fox's message. 'Keep +yourselves in an universal spirit' was what he both preached and +practised. It was in 'an universal spirit' that he and his followers +scattered all over the country. No wonder they earned the name of 'the +Valiant Sixty,' that little band of comrades who in 1654 started out +from the North Country on their mission of convincing all England of +'the Truth.' + +They were nearly all young men, their leader Fox himself still only +thirty at this time. Francis Howgill and John Camm were two of the +very few elders in the company. They usually travelled in couples, +dear friends naturally going together; for is not the best work always +done with the right companion? George Fox, who was leader, not by any +outward signs of authority but by fervour of inward power and zeal, +occasionally travelled alone. More often he took with him a comrade, +such as Richard Farnsworth (of whom we have heard at Pendle), or James +Nayler, or Leonard Fell, or many another, of whom there are other +stories yet to tell. + +Never was George Fox happier than when he was sowing the seed in a new +place. All over England there are memories of him, even as far away as +the Land's End. + +When, in 1656, he reached the rocky peninsula of granite at the +extreme south-west of England, he wrote in his journal: 'At Land's End +we had a precious meeting. Here was a fisherman, Nicholas Jose, +convinced, that became a faithful minister. He spoke in meetings and +declared truth to the people, so that I told Friends he was "like +Peter." I was glad the Lord raised up His standard in those dark parts +of the nation, where since there is a fine meeting of honest-hearted +Friends, and a great people the Lord will have in that country.' + +Unluckily, some of the other Cornish fisherfolk were not at all 'like +Peter.' They were wreckers, and used to entice ships on to the rocks +by means of false lights in order to enrich themselves with the spoils +washed up on their coasts. This is why George Fox spoke of them as a +'dark people,' and was moved to put forth a paper 'warning them +against such wicked practices.' + +There are memories of him also in the town which was then called +Smethwick, and is now called Falmouth, as well as at grim old +Pendennis Castle: one of the twin castles that had been built by King +Henry the Eighth to guard the mouth of Falmouth harbour. Here George +Fox was confined. From hence he was carried to Launceston, where he +lay for many weeks in prison in the awful den of Doomsdale, under +conditions so dreadful that it is impossible to describe them here. +When, at length, he was set at liberty he found a refuge at the +hospitable farmhouse of Tregangeeves near St. Austell--the Swarthmoor +of the West of England--with its warm-hearted mistress, Loveday +Hambley. At Exeter he stayed at an inn, at the foot of the bridge, +named 'the Seven Stars.' In our own day some of his followers have +found another 'Inn of Shining Stars' at Exeter also, when their turn +has come to be lodged within the grim walls of the Gaol for conscience +sake. + + * * * * * + +Now let us borrow the Giant's Seven-Leagued boots, and fancy ourselves +in the far North of England, in 1657, just leaving Cumberland and +crossing the Scottish border. Again the same square-set figure in the +plain, soft, wide hat is riding ahead. But on this journey George Fox +has several others with him: one is our old acquaintance, James +Lancaster: Alexander Parker is the name of another of his companions: +the third, Robert Widders, Fox himself described as 'a thundering +man.' With them rides a certain Colonel William Osborne, 'one of the +earliest Quaker preachers north of the Tweed, who came into Cumberland +at this time on purpose to guide the party.'[14] Colonel Osborne, who +had been present with the other travellers at a meeting at Pardshaw +Crag shortly before, 'said that he never saw such a glorious meeting +in his life.' + +'Fox says that as soon as his horse set foot across the Border, the +infinite sparks of life sparkled about him, and as he rode along he +saw that the seed of the seedsman Christ was sown, but abundance of +clods of foul and filthy earth was above it.'[15] + +A high-born Scottish lady, named Lady Margaret Hamilton, was convinced +on this journey. She afterwards went in her turn to warn Oliver +Cromwell of the Day of the Lord that was coming upon him. Various +other distinguished people seem also to have been convinced at this +time. The names of Fox's new disciples sound unusually imposing: +'Judge Swinton of Swinton; Sir Gideon Scott of Highchester; Walter +Scott of Raeburn, Sir Gideon's brother; Charles Ormiston, merchant, +Kelso; Anthony Haig of Bemersyde and William his brother'; but +Quakerism never took firm root in the Northern Kingdom, as it did +among the dalesmen and townsfolk farther South. + +Fox journeyed on, right into the Highlands, but he got no welcome +there. 'We went among the clans,' he says, 'and they were devilish, +and like to have spoiled us and our horses, and run with pitchforks at +us, but through the Lord's power we escaped them.' At Perth, the +Baptists were very bitter, and persuaded the Governor to drive the +party from the town, whereupon 'James Lancaster was moved to sound and +sing in the power of God, and I was moved to sound the Day of the +Lord, the glorious everlasting Gospel; and all the streets were up and +filled with people: and the soldiers were so ashamed that they cried, +and said they had rather have gone to Jamaica[16] than to guard us so, +and then they set us in a boat and set us over the water.' + +At Leith many officers of the army and their wives came to see Fox. +Among these latter was a certain Mrs. Billing, who lived alone, having +quarrelled with her husband. She brought a handful of coral ornaments +with her, and threw them on the table ostentatiously, in order to see +if Fox would preach a sermon against such gewgaws, since the Quakers +were well known to disapprove of jewellery and other vanities. + +'I took no notice of it,' says Fox, 'but declared Truth to her, and +she was reached.' What a picture it makes! The fine lady, with her +chains and brooches and rings of smooth, rose-coloured coral heaped up +on the table before her, her eyes cast down as she pretended to let +the pretty trifles slip idly through her fingers, yet glancing up now +and then, under her eyelashes, to see if she had managed to attract +the great preacher's attention; and Fox, noticing the baubles well +enough, but paying no attention to them. Fixing his piercing eyes not +on the coral but on its owner, he spoke to Mrs. Billing with such +power that her whole life was changed. Once more Fox had found 'that +of God' within this seemingly frivolous woman. + +Before he left Scotland he had the happiness of persuading Mrs. +Billing to send for her husband, and of helping to make up the quarrel +between them. They agreed eventually to live in unity together once +more as man and wife. + +Fox journeyed on, in this way, year after year, always sowing the seed +wherever he went, and sometimes having the joy of seeing it spring up +above the clods and bring forth fruit an hundredfold. Even during the +long weary intervals of captivity this service still continued. +'Indeed, Fox and his fellow-sufferers never looked upon prison as an +interruption in their life service, but used the new surroundings in a +fresh campaign.'[17] Thus, the historian tells us: 'Though George Fox +found good entertainment, yet he did not settle there but kept in a +continual motion, going from one place to another, to beget souls unto +God.'[18] + +The rest of the 'Valiant Sixty,' meanwhile, were likewise busy, going +up and down the country, working in different places and with +different methods, but all intent on the one enterprise of 'Publishing +Truth.' 'And so when the churches were settled in the North,' says the +Journal, 'and the Lord had raised up many and sent forth many into His +Vineyard to preach His everlasting Gospel, as Francis Howgill and +Edward Burrough to London, John Camm and John Audland to Bristol +through the countries, Richard Hubberthorne and George Whitehead +towards Norwich, and Thomas Holme unto Wales, that a matter of sixty +ministers did the Lord raise up and send abroad out of the North +Countries.' + +There were far fewer big towns in England in those days than there are +now. Probably at least two-thirds of the people lived in the country, +and only the remaining third were townsfolk: nowadays the proportions +are more than reversed. There was then no thickly populated 'Black +Country'; there were then no humming mills in the woollen districts of +Yorkshire, no iron and steel works soiling the pure rivers of Tees and +Wear and Tyne. Most of the chief towns and industries at that time +were in the South. + +'London had a population of half a million. Bristol, the principal +seaport, had about thirty thousand; Norwich, with a similar number of +inhabitants, was still the largest manufacturing city. The publishers +of Truth would now make these three places their chief fields of +service, showing something of the same concentration of effort at +strategic centres which marked the extension of Christianity through +the Roman Empire, under the leadership of Paul.'[19] + +A certain impetuous lad named James Parnell, already a noted Minister +though still in his teens, was hard at work in the counties of East +Anglia. In the next story we shall hear how Howgill and Burrough fared +in their mission 'to conquer London.' + +Splendid tidings came from the two Johns, John Audland and John Camm, +of their progress in Bristol and the West: 'The mighty power of God is +that way; that is a precious city and a gallant people: their net is +like to break with fishes, they have caught so much there and all the +coast thereabout.' The memory of the enthusiasm of those early days +lingered long in the West, in the memory of those who had shared in +them. 'Ah! those great meetings in the Orchard at Bristol I may not +forget,' wrote John Audland many years later, 'I would so gladly have +spread my net over all and have gathered all, that I forgot myself, +never considering the inability of my body,--but it's well, my reward +is with me, and I am content to give up and be with the Lord, for that +my soul values above all things.' + +Women also were among the first Publishers of Truth and helped to +spread the message. Even before Burrough and Howgill reached London, +two women had been there, gently scattering the new seed. It is +recorded that one of them, named Isabella Buttery, 'sometimes spoke a +few words in this small meeting.' + +Two Quaker girls from Kendal, Elizabeth Leavens and 'little Elizabeth +Fletcher,' were the first to preach in Oxford, and a terrible time +they had of it. 'Little Elizabeth Fletcher' was then only seventeen, +'a modest, grave, young woman.' Jane Waugh, one of the 'convinced' +serving-maids at Cammsgill, was a friend of hers; but Jane Waugh's +turn for suffering had not yet come. She was still in the North when +the two Elizabeths reached Oxford. This is the account of what befell +them there: 'The 20th day of the 4th month [June] 1654 came to this +city two maids, who went through the streets and into the Colleges, +steeple and tower houses, preaching repentance and declaring the word +of the Lord to the people.... On the 25th day of the same month they +were moved to go to Martin's Mass House (_alias_) Carefox, where one +of those maids, after the priest had done, spake something in answer +to what the priest had before spoken in exhortation to the people, and +presently were by two Justices sent to prison.' The Mayor of Oxford +seems to have been pleased with the behaviour of the two girls and +caused them to be set at liberty again. But the Vice-Chancellor and +the Justices would not agree to this, and 'earnestly enquired from +whence they came, and their business to Oxford. They answered, "they +were commanded of the Lord to come"; and it being demanded "what to +do," they answered, to "declare against Sin and Ungodliness, which +they lived in." And at this answer the Vice-Chancellor and the +Justices ordered their punishment, to be whipped out of town, and +demanding of the Mayor to agree to the same, and for refusing, said +they would do it of themselves, and signing a paper, the contents +whereof was this: To be severely whipped, and sent out of Town as +Vagrants. And forthwith, because of the tumult, they were put into the +Cage, a place common for the worst of people; and accordingly the next +morning, they were whipped, and sent away, and on the backside of the +City, meeting some scholars, they were moved to speak to them, who +fell on them very violently, and drew them into John's College, where +they tied them back to back and pumped water on them, until they were +almost stifled; and they being met at another time as they passed +through a Graveyard, where a corpse was to be buried, Elizabeth Holme +spake something to the Priest and people, and one Ann Andrews thrust +her over a grave stone, which hurt she felt near to her dying day.' + +Two other women, Elizabeth Williams and a certain Mary Fisher (who was +hereafter to go on a Mission to no less a person than the Grand Turk), +were also cruelly flogged at Cambridge for daring to 'publish Truth' +there. 'The Mayor ... issued his warrant to the Constable to whip them +at the Market Cross till the blood ran down their bodies; and ordered +three of his sergeants to see that sentence, equally cruel and +lawless, severely executed. The poor women kneeling down, in Christian +meekness besought the Lord to forgive him, for that he knew not what +he did: so they were led to the Market Cross, calling upon God to +strengthen their Faith. The Executioner commanded them to put off +their clothes, which they refused. Then he stripped them naked to the +waist, put their arms into the whipping-post, and executed the Mayor's +warrant far more cruelly than is usually done to the worst of +malefactors, so that their flesh was miserably cut and torn. The +constancy and patience which they expressed under this barbarous usage +was astonishing to the beholders, for they endured the cruel torture +without the least change of countenance or appearance of uneasiness, +and in the midst of their punishment sang and rejoiced, saying, "The +Lord be blessed, the Lord be praised, who hath thus honoured us and +strengthened us to suffer for his Name's sake." ... As they were led +back into the town they exhorted the people to fear God, not man, +telling them "this was but the beginning of the sufferings of the +people of God."'[20] + +These two women were the first Friends to be publicly whipped in +England. But their prophecy that 'this was but the beginning' was only +too literally fulfilled. + +Not only had bodily sufferings to be undergone by these brave 'First +Publishers.' Malicious reports were also spread against them, which +must have been almost harder to bear. + +William Prynne, the same William Prynne who had had his own ears +cropped in earlier days by order of the Star Chamber, but who had not, +apparently, learned charity to others through his own sufferings, +published a pamphlet that was spread abroad throughout England. It +was called 'The Quakers unmasked, and clearly detected to be but the +Spawn of Romish Frogs, Jesuits and Franciscan Friars, sent from Rome +to seduce the intoxicated giddy-headed English Nation.' George Fox +called the pamphlet in which he answered this charge by an almost +equally uncharitable title: 'The Unmasking and Discovery of +Antichrist, with all the false Prophets, by the true Light which comes +from Christ Jesus.' + +The seventeenth century has truly been called 'a very ill-mannered +century.' Certainly these were not pretty names for pamphlets that +were so widely read that, to quote the graphic expression of an +earlier writer, 'they walked up and down England at deer rates.' + +Yet, still, in spite of bodily ill-usage and imprisonment, through +good report and through evil report, through fair weather and foul, +the work of scattering the seed continued steadily, day after day, +month after month, year after year. The messengers went on, undaunted; +the Message spread and took root throughout the land; the trials of +the work were swallowed up in the triumphant joy of service and of +'Publishing Truth.' + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[14] W.C. Braithwaite, _Beginnings of Quakerism_. + +[15] W.C. Braithwaite, _Beginnings of Quakerism_. + +[16] Jamaica, with its deadly climate, had lately been taken by +England from Spain, and was at this time proving the grave of hundreds +of English soldiers. + +[17] _Cameos from the Life of George Fox_, by E.E. Taylor. + +[18] Sewel's _History of the Quakers_. + +[19] W.C. Braithwaite, _Beginnings of Quakerism_. + +[20] Besse, _Sufferings of the Quakers_. + + + + +XVI. WRESTLING FOR GOD + + + + + _'Being but a boy, Edward Burrough + had the spirit of a man. Reviling, + slandering, buffetting and caning + were oft his lot. Nothing could + make this hero shrink.'--SEWEL._ + + + _'His natural disposition was bold + and manly, what he took in hand he + did with his might; loving, + courteous, merciful and easy to be + entreated; he delighted in + conference and reading of the holy + scriptures.'--'Piety Promoted.'_ + + + _'Dear Brother, mind the Lord and + stand in His will and counsel. And + dwell in the pure measure of God + in thee, and there thou wilt see + the Lord God present with thee. + For the bringing forth many out of + prison art thou there set; behold + the word of the Lord cannot be + bound. The Lord God of Power give + thee wisdom, courage, manhood, and + boldness, to thresh down all + deceit. Dear Heart, be valiant, + and mind the pure Spirit of God in + thee, to guide thee up into God, + to thunder down all deceit within + and without. So farewell, and God + Almighty keep you.'--GEORGE FOX, + to a friend in the ministry._ + + + _'So, all dear and tender hearts, + abide in the counsel of God, and + let not the world overcome your + minds but wait for a daily victory + over it.'--E. BURROUGH._ + + + _'Give me the strength to + surrender my strength to Thee in + Love.'--RABINDRANATH TAGORE._ + + + + +XVI. WRESTLING FOR GOD + + +'A brisk young man with a ready tongue' was the verdict passed upon +Edward Burrough, the hero of this story, by a certain Mr. Thomas +Ellwood when he met him first in the year 1659. + +Ellwood himself, who thus described his new acquaintance, was a young +man too at that time, of good education and scholarly tastes. He +became later the friend of a certain Mr. John Milton, who thought +sufficiently well of his judgment to allow him to read his poetry +before it was published, and to ask him what he thought of it; even, +occasionally, to act upon his suggestions. Ellwood, therefore, was +clearly the possessor of a sober judgment, and not a likely person to +be carried away by the glib words of a wandering preacher. Yet that +'brisk young man,' Edward Burrough, did not only 'reach him' with his +'ready tongue,' he also completely 'convinced' him, and altered his +whole life: Ellwood returned to his family ready to suffer hardship if +need be on behalf of his newly-found faith. + +Ellwood's own adventures, however, do not concern us here, but those +of the young man who convinced him. + +Edward Burrough was one of the best loved and most valiant of all +those 'Valiant Sixty' ministers who went forth throughout the length +and breadth of England, in 1654, on their new, wonderful enterprise of +'Publishing Truth.' If Edward Burrough was still 'young and brisk' +when Ellwood first came across him, he must have been yet younger and +brisker on that summer's day, five years earlier, when he left his +home in Westmorland in order to 'conquer London.' This was an +ambitious undertaking truly for any man, however brisk and ready of +tongue. + +It is true that the London of those long-ago days of the Commonwealth, +before the Great Fire, was a much more compact city than the gigantic, +overgrown London of to-day. Instead of 'sprawling over five or six +counties,'[21] and containing six or seven million inhabitants, London +was then a comparatively small place, its population, though rapidly +increasing, did not yet number one million. + +'An old map of the year 1610 shows us that London and Westminster were +then two neighbouring cities surrounded by meadows. "Totten Court" was +an outlying country village. Oxford Street is marked on this map as +"The way to Uxbridge," and runs between meadows and pastures. The +Tower, Westminster Abbey, St. Paul's Church, ... and some other +landmarks are indeed there, but it is curious to read the accounts +given by the chronicles of the day of its narrow and dirty streets, in +which carts and coaches jostled one another, and foot passengers found +it difficult to get along at all.... When the King went to Parliament, +faggots were thrown into the ruts in the streets through which he +passed, to make it easier for his state coach to drive over the uneven +roads!'[22] + +Nevertheless this gay little countrified town of timbered houses, +surrounded by meadows and orchards, and overlooked by the green +heights of 'Hamsted' and Primrose Hill, was then as now the Capital +City of England. And England under Oliver Cromwell was one of the most +powerful of the States of Europe. + +Therefore if a young man barely out of his teens were to succeed in +'conquering London,' and bending it to his will, he would certainly +need all his briskness and readiness of tongue. + +Edward Burrough probably entered London alone and on foot, after a +journey extending over several weeks. He had left his native +Westmorland in company with good John Camm, the 'statesman' farmer of +Cammsgill. The first stages of their journey were made on horseback. +Many a quiet talk the two men must have had together as they rode +through the green lanes of England,--that long-ago England of the +Commonwealth, its clear skies unstained by any tall chimneys or +factory smoke. There were but few hedgerows then, 'a single hedge is a +marked feature in the contemporary maps.'[23] The cornfields stretched +away in a broad, unbroken expanse as they do to-day on the Continent +of Europe and in the lands of the New World. + +As they rode, Camm would tell Burrough, doubtless, of his first sight +of George Fox, preaching in Sedbergh Churchyard, under the ancient +yew-tree opposite the market cross, on that never-to-be-forgotten day +of the Whitsuntide Fair. The story of the 'Wonderful Fortnight' would +be sure to follow; of the 'Mighty Meeting' on the Fell outside Firbank +Chapel; of the gathering of the Seekers at Preston Patrick; and of yet +another open-air meeting, when hundreds of people assembled one +memorable First Day near his own hillside farm at Cammsgill. + +Then it would be the younger man's turn to tell his tale. + +'He was born in the barony of Kendal ... of parents who for their +honest and virtuous life were in good repute; he was well educated, +and trained up in such learning as that country did afford.... By his +parents he was trained up in the episcopal worship,'[24] but for a +long time, he says that the only religion that he practised was 'going +to church one day in seven to hear a man preach, to read, and sing, +and rabble over a prayer.' (It is easy to smile at the old-fashioned +word; but let us try to remember it when we ourselves are tempted to +get up too late in the morning and 'rabble over' our own prayers.) + +Gradually the unseen world grew more real. A beautiful and comforting +message was given to him in his heart, 'Whom God once loves, he loves +for ever.' Now he grew weary of hearing any of the priests, for he saw +they did not possess what they spoke of to others, and sometimes he +began to question his own experiences. + +Nevertheless he felt it a grievous trial to give up all his prospects +of earthly advancement and become a Quaker. Yet from the day he +listened to George Fox preaching at Underbarrow there was no other +course open to him; though his own parents were much incensed with him +for daring to join this despised people. They even refused to +acknowledge him any longer as a member of their family. Being rejected +as a son, therefore, he begged to be allowed to stay on in his home +and work as a servant, but this, too, was refused. Thus being, as he +says, 'separated from all the glory of the world, and from all his +acquaintance and kindred,' he betook himself to the company of 'a +poor, despised people called Quakers.' + +It must have been a comfort to him, after being cast off by his own +family, to find himself adopted by a still larger family of friends, +and to become one of the 'Valiant Sixty' entrusted with the great +adventure of Publishing Truth. + +Riding along with good John Camm, with talk to beguile the way, was +pleasant travelling; but this happy companionship was not to last very +long. For as they journeyed and came near the 'Middle Kingdom,' or +Midlands, they fell in with another of 'Truth's Publishers.' + +This was none other than their Westmorland neighbour, John Audland, +'the ruddy-faced linen-draper of Crosslands,' John Camm's own especial +comrade and pair among the 'Sixty.' + +It may have been a prearranged plan that they should meet here; anyway +Camm turned aside with Audland and went on with him to Bristol, where +he had already begun to scatter the seed in the west of England, while +Edward Burrough pursued his journey in solitude towards London.[25] +But his days of loneliness were not to last for long. Either just +before or just after his arrival in the great city, two other +Publishers also reached the metropolis, one of whom, Francis Howgill, +was to be his own especial comrade and pair in the task of 'conquering +London.' This was that same Francis Howgill, a considerably older man +than Burrough, and formerly a leader among the Seekers, who had been +preaching that memorable day at Firbank when he thought George Fox +looked into the Chapel and was so much struck that 'you could have +killed him with a crab-apple.' Now that they had come together, +however, it would have taken more than many crab-apples to deter him +and Burrough from their Mission. Together the two friends laid their +plans for the capture of London, and together they proceeded to carry +them out. The success they met with was astonishing. 'By the arm of +the Lord,' writes Howgill, 'all falls before us, according to the word +of the Lord before I came to this City, that all should be as a +plain.' + +Amidst their engrossing labours in the capital the two London +'Publishers' did not forget to send news of their work to Friends in +the North. Many letters written at this time remain. Those to Margaret +Fell, especially, give a vivid picture of their progress. These +letters are signed sometimes by Howgill, sometimes by Burrough, +sometimes by both together. But, whatever the signature, the pronouns +'I' and 'we' are used indiscriminately, as if to show that the writers +were not only united in the service of Truth but were also one in +heart. + +'We two,' they say in one letter, 'are constrained to stay in this +city; but we are not alone, for the power of our Father is with us, +and it is daily made manifest through weakness, even to the stopping +of the mouths of lions and to the confounding of the serpent's +wisdom; eternal praises to Him for evermore. In this city, iniquity is +grown to the height. We have three meetings or more every week, very +large, more than any place will contain, and which we can conveniently +meet in. Many of all sorts come to us and many of all sorts are +convinced, yea, hundreds do believe....' + +Again: 'We get Friends together on the First Days to meet together out +of the rude multitude; and we two go to the great meeting place which +we have, which will hold a thousand people, which is always nearly +filled, there to thresh among the world; and we stay till twelve or +one o'clock and then pass away, the one to the one place and the other +to another place where Friends are met in private; and stay till four +or five o'clock.' + +Only a month later yet another 'great place' had to be taken for a +'threshing-floor,' or hall where public meetings could be held. To +these meetings anyone might come and listen to the preachers' message, +which 'threshed them like grain, and sifted the wheat from the "light +chaffy minds" among the hearers.' + +How 'chaffy' and frivolous this gay world of London appeared to these +first Publishers, consumed with the burning eagerness of their +mission, the following description shows. It occurs in a letter from +George Fox himself when he, too, came to the metropolis, a few months +later. + +'What a world this is,' he writes ... 'altogether carried with +fooleries and vanities both men and women ... putting on gold, gay +apparel, plaiting the hair, men and women they are powdering it, +making their backs as if they were bags of meal, and they look so +strange that they cannot look at one another. Pride hath puffed up +every one, they are out of the fear of God, men and women, young and +old, one puffs up another, they are not in the fashion of the world +else, they are not in esteem else, they shall not be respected else, +if they have not gold and silver upon their backs, or his hair be not +powdered. If he have a company of ribbons hung about his waist, red or +white, or black or yellow, and about his knees, and gets a Company in +his hat, and powders his hair, then he is a brave man, then he is +accepted, then he is no Quaker.... Likewise the women having their +gold, their spots on their faces, noses, cheeks, foreheads, having +their rings on their fingers, wearing gold, having their cuffs doubled +under and about like a butcher with white sleeves' (how pretty they +must have been!), 'having their ribbons tied about their hands, and +three or four gold laces about their clothes, "this is no Quaker," say +they.... Now are not all these that have got these ribbons hung about +their arms, backs, waists, knees, hats, hands, like unto fiddlers' +boys, and shew that you are gotten into the basest contemptible life +as be in the fashion of the fiddlers' boys and stage-players, and +quite out of the paths and steeps of solid men.... And further to get +a pair of breeches like a coat and hang them about with points up +almost to the middle, and a pair of double cuffs upon his hands, and a +feather in his cap, and to say, "Here's a gentleman, bow before him, +put off your hats, bow, get a company of fiddlers, a set of music and +women to dance, this is a brave fellow, up in the chamber without and +up in the chamber within," are these your fine Christians? "Yea," say +they. "Yea but," say the serious people, "they are not of Christ's +life." And to see such a company as are in the fashions of the world +... get a couple of bowls in their hands or tables [dice] or +shovel-board, or a horse with a Company of ribbons on his head as he +hath on his own, and a ring in his ear; and so go to horse-racing to +spoil the creature. Oh these are gentlemen, these are bred up +gentlemen! these are brave fellows and they must have their +recreation, and pleasures are lawful. These are bad Christians and +shew that they are gluttoned with the creature and then the flesh +rejoiceth!' + +No wonder that Edward Burrough wrote to Margaret Fell that 'in this +city iniquity is grown to the height,' and again, in a later letter: +'There are hundreds convinced, but not many great or noble do receive +our testimony ... we are much refreshed, we receive letters from all +quarters, the work goes on fast everywhere.... Richard Hubberthorne is +yet in prison and James Parnell at Cambridge.... Our dear brethren +John Audland and John Camm we hear from, and we write to one another +twice in the week. They are near us, they are precious and the work of +the Lord is great in Bristol.' + +Margaret Fell writes back in answer, like a true mother in Israel, +'You are all dear unto me, and all are present with me, and are all +met together in my heart.' + +And now, having heard what the 'Valiant Sixty' thought of London, what +did London think of the 'Valiant Sixty'? Many years later a certain +William Spurry wrote of these early days: 'I being in London at the +time of the first Publication of Truth, there was a report spread in +the City that there was a sort of people come there that went by the +name of plain North Country plow men, who did differ in judgment to +all other people in that City, who I was very desirous to see and +converse with. And upon strict enquiry I was informed that they did +meet at one Widow Matthews in White Cross Street, in her garden, where +I repaired, where was our dear friends Edward Burrough and Francis +Howgill, who declared the Lord's everlasting Truth in the +demonstration of the Spirit of Life, where myself and many more were +convinced. A little time after there was a silent meeting appointed +and kept at Sarah Sawyer's in Rainbow Alley.' + +Very rural and unlike London these places sound: but meetings were not +only held in secluded spots, such as the garden in White Cross Street, +and the house in Rainbow Alley, they were also held in the tumultuous +centres of Vanity Fair. + +'Edward Burrough,' says Sewel the historian, 'though he was a very +young man when he first came forth, yet grew in wisdom and valour so +that he feared not the face of man.' 'At London there is a custom in +summer time, when the evening approaches and tradesmen leave off +working, that many lusty fellows meet in the fields, to try their +skill and strength at wrestling, where generally a multitude of people +stand gazing in a round. Now it so fell out, that Edward Burrough +passed by the place where they were wrestling, and standing still +among the spectators, saw how a strong and dexterous fellow had +already thrown three others, and was now waiting for a fourth +champion, if any durst venture to enter the lists. At length none +being bold enough to try, E. Burrough stepped into the ring (commonly +made up of all sorts of people), and having looked upon the wrestler +with a serious countenance, the man was not a little surprised, +instead of an airy antagonist, to meet with a grave and awful young +man; and all stood amazed at this sight, eagerly expecting what would +be the issue of this combat. But it was quite another fight Edward +Burrough aimed at. For having already fought against spiritual +wickedness, that had once prevailed in him and having overcome it in +measure, by the grace of God, he now endeavoured also to fight against +it in others, and to turn them from the evil of their ways. With this +intention he began very seriously to speak to the standers by, and +that with such a heart-piercing power, that he was heard by this mixed +multitude with no less attention than admiration; for his speech +tended to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of +Satan to God. + +'Thus he preached zealously; and though many might look upon this as a +novelty, yet it was of such effect that many were convinced of the +truth.... And indeed he was one of those valiants, whose bow never +turned back ... nay he was such an excellent instrument in the hand of +God that even some mighty and eminent men were touched to the heart by +the power of the word of life which he preached' ... 'using few words +but preaching after a new fashion so that he was called a "son of +thunder and also of consolation."' + +'Now I come also to the glorious exit of E. Burrough, that valiant +hero. For several years he had been very much in London, and had there +preached the gospel with piercing and powerful declarations. And that +city was so near to him, that oftentimes, when persecution grew hot, +he said to Francis Howgill, his bosom friend, "I can go freely to the +city of London, and lay down my life for a testimony of that truth, +which I have declared through the power and spirit of God." Being in +this year [1662] at Bristol, and thereabouts, and moved to return to +London, he said to many of his friends, when he took leave of them, +that he did not know he should see their faces any more; and therefore +he exhorted them to faithfulness and steadfastness, in that wherein +they had found rest for their souls. And to some he said, "I am now +going up to the city of London again, to lay down my life for the +gospel, and suffer among friends in that place."'[26] + +Thus it befell that Edward Burrough was called to a more deadly +wrestling match than any in the pleasant London fields. He was thrown +into prison, and there he had to face a mortal foe in the gaol-fever +that was then raging in that noisome den. This was to wrestle in grim +earnest, with Death himself for an adversary; and in this wrestling +match Death was the conqueror. + +Charles the Second was now on the throne. He knew and respected Edward +Burrough, and did his best to rescue him. Knowing the pestilential and +overcrowded state of Newgate at that time, the Merry Monarch, to his +lasting credit, sent a royal warrant for the release of Edward +Burrough and some of the other prisoners, when he heard of the danger +they were in from the foul state of the prison. But this order a +certain cruel and persecuting Alderman, named Richard Brown, and some +magistrates of the City of London contrived to thwart. The prisoners +remained in the gaol. Edward Burrough caught the fever, and grew +rapidly worse. On his death-bed he said, 'Lord, forgive Richard Brown, +who imprisoned me, if he may be forgiven.' Later on he said, 'I have +served my God in my generation, and that Spirit, which has lived and +ruled in me shall yet break forth in thousands.' 'The morning before +he departed his life ... he said, "Now my soul and spirit is centred +into its own being with God; and this form of person must return from +whence it was taken...."' A few moments later, in crowded Newgate, he +peacefully fell asleep. 'This was the exit of E. Burrough, who in his +flourishing youth, about the age of eight and twenty, in an unmarried +state, changed this mortal life for an incorruptible, and whose +youthful summer flower was cut down in the winter season, after he had +very zealously preached the gospel about ten years.'[27] + +Francis Howgill, now left desolate and alone, poured forth a touching +lament for his vanished 'yoke-fellow.' + +'It was my lot,' he writes, 'to be his companion and fellow-labourer +in the work of the gospel where-unto we were called, for many years +together. And oh! when I consider, my heart is broken; how sweetly we +walked together for many months and years in which we had perfect +knowledge of one another's hearts and perfect unity of spirit. Not so +much as one cross word or one hard thought of discontent ever rose (I +believe) in either of our hearts for ten years together.' + +George Fox, no mean fighter himself, adds this comment: 'Edward +Burrough never turned his back on the Truth, nor his back from any out +of the Truth. A valiant warrior, more than a conqueror, who hath got +the crown through death and sufferings; who is dead, but yet liveth +amongst us, and amongst us is alive.' + +But it is from Francis Howgill, who knew him best and loved him most +of all, that we learn the inmost secret of the life of this mighty +wrestler, when he says: + +'HIS VERY STRENGTH WAS BENDED AFTER GOD.' + +[Illustration] + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[21] _Story of Quakerism_, E.B. Emmott. + +[22] _Story of Quakerism_, E.B. Emmott. + +[23] _England under the Stuarts_, G.M. Trevelyan. + +[24] Sewel's _History of the Quakers_. + +[25] I have followed Thomas Camm's account of his father's journey +with Edward Burrough, and of their meeting with John Audland in the +Midlands, as given in his book, _The Memory of the Righteous Revived_. +W.C. Braithwaite, however, in his _Beginnings of Quakerism_, thinks it +more probable that Francis Howgill was E. Burrough's companion from +the North, and that the two friends reached London together. + +[26] Sewel's _History of the Quakers_. + +[27] Sewel's _History of the Quakers_. + + + + +XVII. LITTLE JAMES AND HIS JOURNEYS + + + + + _O, how beautiful is the spring in + a barren field, where barrenness + and deadness fly away. As the + spring comes on, the winter casts + her coat and the summer is nigh. + O, wait to see and read these + things within. You that have been + as barren and dead and dry without + sap; unto you the Sun of + Righteousness is risen with + healing in his wings and begins to + shine in your coasts.... O, mind + the secret sprigs and tender + plants. Now you are called to + dress the garden. Let not the + weeds and wild plants remain. + Peevishness is a weed; anger is a + weed; self-love and self-will are + weeds; pride is a wild plant; + covetousness is a wild plant; + lightness and vanity are wild + plants, and lust is the root of + all. And these things have had a + room in your gardens, and have + been tall and strong; and truth, + innocence, and equity have been + left out, and could not be found, + until the Sun of Righteousness + arose and searched out that which + was lost. Therefore, stand not + idle, but come into the vineyard + and work. Your work shall be to + watch and keep out the fowls, + unclean beasts, wild bears and + subtle foxes. And he that is the + Husbandman will pluck up the wild + plants and weeds, and make defence + about the vines. He will tell you + what to do. He who is Father of + the vineyard will be nigh you. And + what is not clear to you, wait for + the fulfilling.--JAMES PARNELL. + (Epistle to Friends from prison.)_ + + + + +XVII. LITTLE JAMES AND HIS JOURNEYS + + 'Be willing that Self shall suffer for the Truth, and not the + Truth for Self.' + + JAMES PARNELL. + + +Tramping! Tramping! Tramping! An endless journey along the white, +dusty highroad it seemed to little James. Indeed the one hundred and +fifty miles that separate Retford in Nottinghamshire from Carlisle in +far-off Cumberland would have been a long distance even for a +full-grown man to travel on foot in those far-off, railroad-less days +of 1652. Whereas little James, who had undertaken this journey right +across England, was but a boy of sixteen, delicate and small for his +age. + +'Ye will never get there, James,' the neighbours cried when he +unfolded his plans. 'To go afoot to Carlisle! Did any one ever hear +the like? It would be a wild-goose chase, even if a man hoped to come +to speak with a King in his palace at the end of it; but for _thee_ to +go such a journey in order to speak but for a few moments with a man +thou dost not know, and in prison, it is nothing but a daft notion! +What ails thee, boy?' + +The only answer James gave was to knit his brows more firmly together, +and to mutter resolutely to himself, as he gathered his few belongings +into a bundle, 'I must and I will see George Fox!' + +George Fox! The secret was out. That was the explanation of this +fantastic journey. George Fox, after gathering a 'great people' up in +the North, was now himself kept a close prisoner in Carlisle Gaol: yet +he was the magnet attracting this lad, frail of body but determined of +will, to travel right across England for the hope of speaking with him +in his prison cell. + + * * * * * + +Let us look back a little and see how this befell. + +In the stately old church of Saint Swithin at East Retford a record +shows that 'James, son of Thomas Parnell and Sarah his wife, was +baptized there on the sixth day of September 1636.' James' parents +were pious church people. It must have been a proud and thankful day +for them when they took their baby son to be christened in the +beautiful old font in that church, where their elder daughter, Sarah, +had received her name a few years before. On the font may still be +seen the figure of Saint Swithin himself, the patron Saint of the +church. This gentle saint, whose dying wish had been that he might be +buried in no stately building of stone but 'where his grave might be +trod by human feet and watered with the raindrops of heaven,' was the +guardian the parents chose for their little lad. All through his short +life the boy seems to have shared this love of Nature and of the open +air. + +James' parents were well-to-do people, and wisely determined to give +their only son a good education. They sent him, therefore, as soon as +he was old enough, to the Retford Grammar School, to be 'trained up in +the Schools of Literature.' James tells us that he was 'as wild as +others during the time he was at school, and that he was perfect in +sin and iniquity as any in the town where he lived, yea and exceeded +many in the wickedness of his life,' until something or other happened +to sober the wild boy. He does not say what it was. Perhaps it may +have been the news that reached Retford during his school days, that +the King of England had been executed at Whitehall, one cold January +morning. Or it may have been something quite different. Anyhow, before +he left school, he was already anxious and troubled about his soul. + +School days finished, he sought for help in his difficulties from +'priests and professors.' But, like George Fox, a few years earlier, +James Parnell got small help from them. Some of the priests told him +that he was deluded. Others, whose words sounded better, did not +practise what they preached. He says, they 'preached down with their +tongues what they upheld in their lives.' Therefore he decided, out of +his scanty experience, that they all were 'hollow Professors,' and +could be of no use to him. A very hasty judgment! But little James was +tremendously sure of himself at this time, quite certain that he knew +more than most of the people he met, feeling entirely able to set his +neighbours to rights, and yet with a real wish to learn, if only he +could find a true teacher. + +He says, 'I was the first in all that town of Retford which the Lord +was pleased to make known His power in, and turn my heart towards Him +and truly to seek Him, so that I became a wonder to the world and an +astonishment to the heathen round about.' + +He adds that, at this time or a little later, even 'his own relations +became his enemies.' This is not surprising. A young man of fifteen +who described his neighbours and friends as 'the heathen round about' +must have been a distinctly trying companion to the aforesaid +'heathen.' + +Possibly there was more than one sigh of relief heaved in East Retford +when the first of little James's journeys began. It was to be only a +short one, to 'a people with whom I found union a few miles out of the +town where I lived. The Lord was a-gathering them out of the dark +world to sit down together and to wait upon His name.' + +These people were either a little group of Friends already gathered at +Balby, or they may have been 'Seekers' meeting together here in +Nottinghamshire, as they did in the North, at Sedbergh and Preston +Patrick and many another place, 'not celebrating Baptism or the Holy +Communion,' but 'waiting together in silence to be instruments in the +hand of the Lord.' Truly helpful 'instruments' they proved to little +James, for they sent him straight on to Nottingham, where a company of +'Children of Light' was already gathered, to worship God. 'Children of +Light' is the first, and the most beautiful, name given to the Society +of Friends in England. + +When these Nottingham Friends saw the vehement, impulsive boy, his +thin frame trembling, his eyes glowing, as he poured forth his +difficulties, naturally their thoughts went back to the other lad who +had also passed through severe soul struggles in this same +neighbourhood, some ten or twelve years earlier. + +They all said to him, one after the other, 'James Parnell, thou must +see George Fox.' + +'George Fox!' cried little James eagerly, 'I have never even heard his +name. Who is he? Where is he? I will go and find him this very moment, +if he can help me.' + +At these words, all the Nottingham Friends shook their heads very +solemnly and sadly and said, 'That is impossible, James, for our +Friend languisheth in Carlisle Gaol. But we can tell thee of him.' + +Then one after another they recounted the well-known story of George +Fox's boyhood, of his difficulties, of his seeking, of his finding, +and lastly of his preaching, when the Power of God shone through him +as he spoke, and melted men's hearts till they became as wax. + +James, drinking in every word, exclaimed breathlessly as soon as the +story was finished, 'That is the man for me. I will set out for +Carlisle this very minute to find him!' + +Of course all the Friends were aghast at the effect of their words. +They declared that he really couldn't and really shouldn't, that it +was out of the question, and that he must do nothing of the kind! They +did their very best to stop him. But little James (who, as we know, +was not in the habit of paying over-much attention to other people's +opinions at any time) treated all these remonstrances as if they had +been thistledown. He swung his small bundle at the end of a short +stick over his shoulder, tightened his belt, tore himself from their +restraining hands, and exclaiming, 'Farewell, Friends, I go to find +George Fox,' off he set on the long, long journey to Carlisle. + +His spirit was aflame with desire to meet his unknown friend. The +miles seemed few and short that separated him from his goal. But +doubtless some of the women among the 'Children of Light' wiped their +eyes as they watched the fiery little figure disappear along the +dusty road, and said, 'Truly that lad hath a valiant heart!' + +Thus, in a burning fury of desire, the journey began. After many weary +days of travel the flame still burned unquenchably, although the boy's +figure looked yet leaner and more under-sized than when he left his +home. + +Tramp, tramp, tramp, on and ever on, till at last the long-desired day +came, when, over the crest of a low hill, he made out for the first +time the distant spire and towers of the fair Border city. The river +Eden in the meadows below lay gleaming in the sunshine like a silver +bow. + +Threadbare and very dusty were his clothes, his feet swollen and sore, +but his chin was pressed well forward, and the light in his eyes was +that of a conqueror, when at last, tramp, tramp, tramp, his tired feet +came pattering up the stones of the steep old bridge that spans the +Eden and leads to Carlisle Town. + +'Which is the prison?' James asked himself, as his eyes scanned a +bewildering maze of towers and roofs. The tall leaden spire of the +Cathedral was unmistakable, 'no prisoners there.' Next he made out the +big square fortress of sandstone, red as Red William the Norman who +built it long ago, on its central mound frowning over the town. + +His unknown friend might very possibly be within those walls. James +quickened his tired steps at the thought, and then stopped short, for +the gates of the bridge were shut. Droves of sheep and oxen on their +way to market filled the entry, and all foot passengers must wait. +James threw himself down, full length, on one of the broad stone +parapets of the bridge to rest his tired limbs until the way should +be clear again. Two men were seated in a stone recess below him, also +waiting to pass. At first James noticed only the dress they wore; +their tall hats and sombre clothes marked them out as Baptists; the +younger man a deacon probably, and the elder a pastor. + +Presently James began to listen to their conversation. + +'It is well he is safe in the Castle,' said the younger man, 'most +pernicious Quaker doctrine did he deliver that Sabbath day in answer +to our questions in the Abbey.' + +'Pernicious Quaker doctrine!' James pricked up his ears at the words. +He settled himself comfortably to listen, without any scruples, seeing +that the speakers were in a public place, and besides, the entrance to +the bridge was by this time so packed with people that he could hardly +have moved off the parapet had he wished. + +The older man shook his head. 'I thought I had hewed him in pieces +before the Lord,' he said in a low voice, 'for no sooner was he silent +than I asked him if he knew what he spake, and what it was should be +damned at the last day. Whereat he did but fix his eyes upon me and +said that "it was that which spoke in me which should be damned." Even +as he spoke my old notions of religion glittered and fell off me, for +I knew that through him whom I despised as a wandering Quaker I was +listening to the Voice of God. He went on to upbraid me as a flashy +notionist and yet, even so, I was constrained to listen to him in +silence.' + +The pastor's voice had sunk very low: James could hardly catch the +last words. + +'Aye, no wonder,' rejoined the younger man, 'with those eyes he +seemeth to pierce the fleshly veil and to read the secrets of a man's +inmost heart. I, too, experienced this, the following market day, he +being then come to the market cross "a-publishing of truth" as he and +his followers term it, in their quaking jargon. The magistrates, godly +men, had sent the sergeants commanding them to stop his mouth. +Moreover, they had sent their wives as well, and even the sergeants +were less bitter against him than the women. For they declared that if +the Quaker dared to defile the noble market cross of Carlisle city by +preaching there, they themselves would pluck off the hair from his +head, while the sergeants should clap him into gaol. Nevertheless the +Quaker would not be stopped. Preach he did, standing forth boldly on +the high step of the cross.' + +'And what said he?' enquired the older man. + +'Right forcibly he declared judgment on all the market folk for their +deceitful ways. He spoke to the merchants as if he were a merchant +himself, beseeching them to lay aside their false weights and measures +and deceitful merchandize, with all cozening and cheating, and to +speak truth only to one another. Ever as he spoke, the people flocked +closer around him, hanging on his words as if he were reading their +secret hearts, so that the sergeants could not come nigh him for the +press to lead him away. Thus only when he had finished he stepped down +from the cross and would have passed gently away, but I and some of +the brethren, thinking that now our turn had come, followed after +him. The contention between us was sharp. Yet his words struck into me +like knives, and scarce knowing what I did, I cried out aloud, for a +strange power was over me. Thereat he fixed his eyes upon me and spake +sharply to me, as if he knew that I was resisting the Spirit of the +Lord. I know not why, but I was forced to cry out again, "Do not +pierce me so with thine eyes. Keep thine eyes off me."' + +'Well,' questioned the elder man, 'and what followed? Did his eyes +leave thee?' + +'They have never left me,' replied the other. 'Wherever I go those +eyes burn me yet, although the man himself lies fast in gaol among the +thieves and murderers, in the worst and most loathsome of the +dungeons. Thither I go every day to assure myself that he is fast +caged behind thick walls, and to rejoice my eyes with the sight of the +gibbet nailed high over-head upon the castle wall. Men say he shall +swing there soon, but of that I know not. Wilt thou come with me now, +for see, the bridge is free?' + +'Not I,' returned the pastor, moodily, as he shuffled away, like a man +ill at ease with himself. + +Little James, from his perch on the parapet, had drunk in greedily +every word of this conversation. Directly the bridge was clear he +crept down and followed the deacon like a shadow. They passed over the +silver Eden and up the main street of the city, paved with rough, +uneven stones, and with an open sewer flowing through the centre of +it. Right across the busy market-place they passed, before the deacon +halted beneath the castle walls. + +Full of noise and hubbub was Carlisle city that day; yet, as the two +entered the courtyard of the castle, James was aware of another +sound, rising clear above the tumult of the town--strains of music, +surely, that came from a fiddle. As they stepped under the inner +gateway and approached the Norman Keep, the fiddler himself came in +sight playing with might and main, under a barred window about six +feet from the ground. By the fiddler's side, urging him on, was a +huge, burly man with a red face. Whenever the fiddler showed signs of +weariness the man beside him raising a large tankard of ale to his +lips would force him to drink of it, saying, 'Play up, man! Play up!' + +The thin, clear strains of the fiddle rose up steadily towards the +barred window, but, above them, James caught another sound that +floated yet more steadily out through the bars: the firm, full tones +of a deep bass voice within, singing loud and strong. + +Though he could not see the singer, something in the song thrilled +James through and through. Forgetting his weariness he knew that he +was near his journey's end at last. As he listened, he noticed a +handful of people, listening also, under the barred window. + +Loud jeers arose: 'Play up, Fiddler!' 'Sing on, Quaker!' or even, 'Ply +him with more ale, Gaoler: the prisoner is the better musician!' + +At these cries the fat man's countenance grew ever more enraged. He +looked savage and huge, 'like a bear-ward,' a man more accustomed to +deal with bears than with human beings. Finally, in his wrath, he +turned the now empty tankard upon the crowd and bespattered them with +the last drops of the ale, and then called lustily for more, with +which he plied the fiddler anew. So the contest continued, but at +last, the ale perhaps taking effect, the fiddler's head dropped, his +bow swept the strings more wearily, while the strong notes inside the +dungeon grew ever more firm and loud. The gaoler seeing, or rather +hearing, himself worsted, caught the bow from the fiddler's hand and +cracked it over his skull. The fiddler, seizing this chance to escape, +leapt to his feet and dashed across the courtyard, followed by the +gaoler and the populace in full chase. Even the sombre Baptist deacon +gathered up the skirts of his long coat and bestirred his lean legs. +The singing ceased. A face appeared at the window: only for an +instant: but one glance was enough for James. + +Timidly he approached the window, but he had only taken two steps +towards it when he found himself firmly elbowed off the pavement and +pushed into the gutter. Someone else also had been watching for the +crowd to disperse, in order to have a chance of speaking with the +prisoner. The new-comer was a portly lady in a satin gown, a much +grander person than James had expected to find in the near +neighbourhood of a dungeon. She carried a large, covered basket, and, +as soon as the way was clear, she set it down on the pavement and +began to take out the contents carefully: bread and salt, beef and +elecampane ale. Without looking up from her work she called to the +unseen figure at the window above her head: 'So thou hast stopped +their vain sounds at length with thy singing?' + +'Aye,' answered the deep voice from within. 'Thou mayest safely +approach the window now, for the gaoler hath departed. After he had +beaten thee and the other Friends with his great cudgel, next he was +moved to beat me also, through the window, did I but come near to it +to get my meat. And as he struck me I was moved to sing in the Lord's +power, and that made him rage the more, whereat he fetched the +fiddler, saying he would soon drown my noise if I would not cease.' + +'Eat now, Dear Heart,' the woman interrupted, 'whilst thou hast the +chance.' So saying, she handed some of the dishes up to the prisoner, +standing herself on tiptoe beneath the prison window in order to reach +his hand stretched out through the bars. + +Here James saw his chance. + +'Madam,' he cried, 'let me hand the meat up to you.' + +The lady looked down and saw the worn, thin face. Perhaps she thought +the boy looked hungry enough to need the food himself, but something +in his eager glance touched her, and when he added, 'For I have come +one hundred and fifty miles to see GEORGE FOX,' her kind heart was +won. + +'Nay, then, thou hast a better right to help him even than I,' she +said, 'though I am his very good friend and Colonel Benson's wife. +Thou shall hand up the dishes to me, and when our friend is satisfied, +thou and I will finish what remains, for in the Lord's power I am +moved to eat no meat at my own house, but to share all my sustenance +with His faithful servant who lies within this noisome gaol.' + +'Madam,' said the boy, speaking with the concentrated intensity of +weeks of suppressed longing, 'for the food, it is no matter, though I +am much beholden to you. I hunger after but one thing. Bring me within +the gaol where I may speak with him face to face. There is that, that +I have come afoot a hundred miles to ask him. + +'Bring me to him, speedily I pray you, for, though even unseen I love +him, + + 'I MUST SEE GEORGE FOX.' + + + + +XVIII. THE FIRST QUAKER MARTYR + + + + + (_From another point of view._) + + _Extracts from the Diary of the + Rev. Ralph Josselin, Vicar of Earls + Colne, Essex._ + + _1655.--'Preacht at Gaines Coln, + the Quakers' nest, but no + disturbance. God hath raised up my + heart not to fear but willing to + bear and to make opposition to + their ways, in defence of truth.'_ + + _Ap. 11, 1656.--'Heard this morning + that James Parnell, the father of + the Quakers in these parts, having + undertaken to fast forty days and + forty nights was in the morning + found dead. He was by jury found + guilty of his own death and buried + in the Castle yard.'_ + + _'Heard and true that Turner's + daughter was distract in the + Quaking business.'_ + + _'Sad are the fits at Coxall, like + the pow-wowing among the Indians.'_ + + _1660.--'The Quakers, after a stop + and a silence, seem to be swarming + and increased, and why, Lord thou + only knowest!'_ + + + _'So there is no obtaining of Life + but through Death, nor no + obtaining the Crown but through + the Cross.'--JAMES PARNELL._ + + + + +XVIII. THE FIRST QUAKER MARTYR + + +How Mrs. Benson managed it, there is no record. Perhaps she hardly +knew herself! But she was not a woman to be easily turned aside from +her purpose, and her husband, Colonel Gervase Benson, had been one of +the 'considerable people' in the County before he had turned Quaker +and 'downed those things.' Even after the change, it may be that +prison doors were more easily unlocked by certain little golden and +silver keys in those days, than they are in our own. + +Anyway, somehow or other, the interview was arranged. 'Little James' +found his desire fulfilled at last. When he passed into the stifling, +crowded prison den, where human beings were herded together like +beasts, he never heeded the horrible stench or the crawling vermin +that abounded everywhere. Rather, he felt as if he were entering the +palace of a king. He paid no attention to the crowd of savage figures +all around him. He saw nothing, knew nothing, felt nothing, until at +last he found that his hand was lying in the grasp of a stronger, +firmer hand, that held it, and would not let it go. Then, indeed, for +the first time he looked up, and knew that his long journey was ended, +as he met the penetrating gaze of George Fox. + +'Keep thine eyes off me, they pierce me,' the Baptist Deacon had +cried, a few weeks before, in that same city. As James looked up, he +too felt for the first time the piercing power of those eyes, but to +him it brought no terror, only joy, as he yielded himself wholly to +his teacher's scrutiny. In silence the two stood, reading each the +other's soul. James felt, instinctively, that his new friend knew and +understood everything that had happened to him, all his life long; +that there was no need to tell him anything, or to explain anything. + +Of an older friendship between two men it was written, 'Thy love to me +was wonderful, passing the love of women.' Thus it proved once more in +that crowded dungeon. No details remain of the interview; no record of +what James said, or what George said. No one else could have reported +what passed between them, and, though each of them has left a mention +of their first meeting, the silence remains unbroken. + +The Journal says merely: 'While I was in ye dungeon at Carlisle, a +little boy, one James Parnell, about fifteen years old, came to me, +and he was convinced and came to be a very fine minister and turned +many to Christ.' + +The boy's own account is shorter still. He does not even mention +George Fox by name. 'I was called for,' he says, 'to visit some +friends in the North part of England, with whom I had union before I +saw their faces, and afterwards I returned to my outward +dwelling-place.' + +His 'outward dwelling-place': the lad's frail body might tramp back +along the weary miles to Retford; his spirit remained in the North, +freely imprisoned with his friend. + +'George' and 'James' were brothers in heart, ever after that short +interview in Carlisle Gaol: united in one inseparable purpose. While +George was confined, James, the free brother, must carry forward +George's work. Triumphantly he did it. By the following year he had +earned his place right well among the 'Valiant Sixty' who were then +sent forth, 'East and West and South and North,' to 'Publish Truth.' + +The Eastern Counties, hitherto almost unbroken ground, fell to James's +share. Assisted by two other 'Valiants,' Richard Hubberthorne and +George Whitehead, the seed was scattered throughout the length and +breadth of East Anglia. Within three short years 'gallant Meetings' +were already gathered and settled everywhere. + +James Parnell was the first Quaker preacher to enter the city of +Colchester, which was soon to rank third among the strongholds of +Quakerism. This boy of eighteen, still so small and delicate in +appearance that his enemies taunted him with the name of 'little +Quaking lad,' has left an account of one of his first crowded days of +work in that city. In the morning, he says, he received any of the +townspeople who were minded to come and ask him questions at his +lodgings. He was a guest, at the time, of a weaver named Thomas +Shortland, who, with his wife Ann, had been convinced shortly before, +by their guest's ministry. In adversity also they were soon to prove +themselves tried and faithful friends. + +Later, that same Sunday morning (4th July 1655), James went down the +High Street to Saint Nicholas' Church, and, when the sermon was ended, +preached to the people in his turn. + +In the afternoon 'he addressed a very great meeting of about a +thousand people, in John Furly's yard, he being mounted above the +crowd and speaking out of a hay-chamber window.' Still later, that +same day, he not only carried on a discussion with 'the town-lecturer +and another priest,' he, the boy of eighteen, but also 'appeared in +the evening at a previously advertised meeting held in the schoolroom +for the children of the French and Flemish weaver refugees in +Colchester, who were being at this time hospitably entertained in John +Furly's house.'[28] + +George Fox says, 'many hundreds of people were convinced by the words +and labours of this young minister.' But, far better than preaching to +other people, he had by this time learned to rule his own spirit. +Once, as he was coming out of the 'Steeple-house of Colchester, called +Nicholas,' one person in particular struck him with a great staff and +said to him, 'Take that for Jesus Christ's sake,' to whom James +Parnell meekly replied, 'Friend, I do receive it for Jesus Christ's +sake.' + +The journey his soul had travelled from the time, only three short +years before, when he had described his neighbours as 'the heathen +round about,' until the day that he could give such an answer was +perhaps a longer one really than all the weary miles he had traversed +between Retford and far Carlisle. + +The two friends, George and James, had one short happy time of service +together, both of them free. After that they parted. Then, all too +soon it was George's turn to visit James, now himself in prison at +Colchester Castle, an even more terrible prison than Carlisle, where +only death could open the doors and set the weary prisoner free. +George's record of his visit to his friend is short and grim. 'As I +went through Colchester,' he says, 'I went to visit James Parnell in +prison, but the cruel gaoler would hardly let us come in or stay with +him, and there the gaoler's wife threatened to have his blood, and +there they did destroy him.' + +An account, written by his Colchester friends, expands the terrible, +glorious tale of his sufferings. + +'The first Messenger of the Lord that appeared in this town to sound +the everlasting Gospel was that eminent Minister and Labourer, James +Parnell, whose first coming to ye town was in ye fourth month (June) +in the year 1655.... Great were the sufferings which this faithful +minister of the Lord underwent, being beat and abused by many. + +'As touching the cause of his sufferings in this his last imprisonment +unto death, which was the fruits of a fast kept at Great Coggeshall +against error (as they said), the 12th day of the fifth month 1655, +where he spoke some words when the priests had done speaking; and when +he was gone out of the high place one followed him, called Justice +Wakering, and clapt him on the back and said he arrested him. And so, +by the means of divers Independent priests and others, he was +committed to this prison at Colchester. And in that prison he was kept +close up, and his friends and acquaintance denied to come at him. Then +at the Assizes he was carried to Chelmsford, about eighteen miles +through the country, as a sport or gazing-stock, locked on a chain +with five accused for felony and murder, and he with three others +remained on the chain day and night. But when he appeared at the Bar, +he was taken off the chain, only had irons on his hands, where he +appeared before Judge Hill ... the first time. But seeing some cried +out against this cruelty, and what shame it would be to let the irons +be seen on him, the next day they took them off, and he appeared +without, where the priests and justices were the accusers. And the +judge gathered what he could out of what they said, to make what he +could against the prisoner to the jury, and urged them to find him +guilty, lest it fall upon their own heads.... And when he would have +spoken truth for himself to inform the jury, the judge would not +permit him thereto. So the judge fined him about twice twenty marks, +or forty pounds, and said the Lord Protector had charged him to see to +punish such persons as should contemn either Magistracy or Ministry. +So he committed him close prisoner till payment, and gave the jailor +charge to let no giddy-headed people come at him; for his friends and +those that would have done him good were called "giddy-headed people," +and so kept out; and such as would abuse him by scorning or beating, +those they let in and set them on. And the jailor's wife would set her +man to beat him, who threatened to knock him down and make him shake +his heels, yea, the jailor's wife did beat him divers times, and swore +she would have his blood, or he should have hers. To which he +answered, "Woman, I would not have thine."'[29] + +One of James' own letters remains written about this time: 'The day I +came in from the Assize,' he says, 'there was a friend or two with me +in the jaylor's house, and the jaylor's wife sent her man to call me +from them and to put me into a yard, and would not suffer my friends +to come at me. And one friend brought me water, and they would not +suffer her to come to me, but made her carry it back again.' + +The name of this woman Friend is not given in this letter, but I +daresay we shall not be far wrong if we fill it in for ourselves here, +and think of her as the same Anne Langley, who would not be kept out +of the prison later on. Other people mention her by name. It is only +in little James' own account that her name does not appear. Perhaps +the tie that bound them was something more than friendship, and he did +not wish her to suffer for her love and faith. + +James' letter continues: 'At night they locked me up into a hole with +a condemned man ... and the same day a friend desired the jaylor's +wife that she would let her come and speak with me, and the jaylor's +wife answered her and the other friends who were with her, calling +them "Rogues, witches ... and the devil's dish washers" ... and other +names, and saying "that they had skipped out of hell when the devil +was asleep!" and much more of the same unchristian-like speeches which +is too tedious to relate.... And thus they make a prey upon the +innocent; and when they do let any come to me they would not let them +stay but very little,' (Poor James! the visits were all too short, and +the lonely hours alone all too long for the prisoner) 'and the +jaylor's wife would threaten to pull them down the stairs.... And +swore that she would have my blood several times, and told my friends +so, and that she would mark my face, calling me witch and rogue, shake +hell ... and the like; and because I did reprove her for her +wickedness, the jaylor hath given order that none shall come to me at +any occasion, but only one or two that brings my food.' + +Even this small mercy was not to be allowed much longer. The account +of the Colchester Friend continues: 'And sometimes they would stop any +from bringing him victuals, and set the prisoners to take his victuals +from him; and when he would have had a trundle bed to have kept him +off the stones, they would not suffer friends to bring him one, but +forced him to lie on the stones, which sometimes would run down with +water in a wet season. And when he was in a room for which he paid 4d. +a night, he was threatened, if he did but walk to and fro in it, by +the jaylor's wife. Then they put him in a hole in the wall, very high, +where the ladder was too short by about six foot, and when friends +would have given him a cord and basket to have taken up his victuals, +he was denied thereof and could not be suffered to have it, though it +was much desired, but he must either come up and down by that rope, or +else famish in the hole, which he did a long time, before God suffered +them to see their desires in which time much means was used about it, +but their wills were unalterably set in cruelty towards him. But after +long suffering in this hole, where there was nought but misery as to +the outward man, being no hole either for air or for smoke, being much +benumbed in the naturals, as he was climbing up the ladder with his +victuals in one hand, and coming to the top of the ladder, catching at +the rope with the other hand, missed the rope, and fell a very great +height upon stones, by which fall he was exceedingly wounded in the +head and arms, and his body much bruised, and taken up for dead, but +did recover again that time. + +'Then they put him in a low hole called the oven, and much like an +oven, and some have said who have been in it that they have seen a +baker's oven much bigger, except for the height of the roof, without +the least airhole or window for smoke and air, nor would they suffer +him to have a little charcoal brought in by friends to prevent the +noisome smoke. Nor would they suffer him, after he was a little +recovered, to take a little air upon the castle wall, which was but +once desired by the prisoner, feeling himself spent for want of +breath. All which he bore with much patience and still kept his +suffering much from friends there, seeing they was much sorrowful to +see it. Yea, others who were no friends were wounded at the sight of +his usage in many other particulars, which we forbear here to mention. + +'And divers came to see him, who heard of his usage from far, not +being friends, had liberty to see him, who was astonished at his +usage, and some of them would say "IF THIS BE THE USAGE OF THE +PROTECTOR'S PRISONERS IT WERE BETTER TO BE ANYBODY'S PRISONERS THAN +HIS," as Justice Barrington's daughter said, who saw their cruelty to +him. And many who came to see him were moved with pity to the +creature, for his sufferings were great.' + +'And although some did offer of their bond of forty pounds [to pay the +fine and so set him at liberty] and one to lie body for body, that he +might come to their house till he was a little recovered, yet they +would not permit it, and it being desired that he might but walk in +the yard, it was answered he should not walk so much as to the castle +door. And the door being once opened, he did but take the freedom to +walk forth in a close, stinking yard before the door, and the gaoler +came in a rage and locked up the hole where he lay, and shut him out +in the yard all night in the coldest time of the winter. So, finding +that nothing but his blood would satisfy them, great application was +made to them in a superior authority but to no purpose. Thus he having +endured about ten months' imprisonment, and having passed through many +trials and exercises, which the Lord enabled him to bear with courage +and faithfulness, he laid down his head in peace and died a prisoner +and faithful Martyr for the sake of the Truth, under the hands of a +persecuting generation in the year 1656.'[30] + +It was his former host, Thomas Shortland the weaver, who had offered +to lie 'body for body' in prison, if only James might be allowed to +return to his house and be nursed back to health again there. After +the boy's death this kind man wrote as follows: + +'Dear Friend--In answer to thine, is this, James Parnell being dead, +the Coroner sent an officer for me, and one Anne Langley, a friend, +who both of us watched with him that night that he departed. And +coming to him [the Coroner] he said, "that it was usual when any died +in prison, to have a jury got on them," and James being dead, and he +hearing we two watched with him, he sent for us to hear what we could +say concerning his death, whether he died on his fair death [_i.e._ a +natural death] or whether he were guilty of his own death.... He asked +whether he had his senses and how he behaved himself late-ward toward +his departure. I answered that he had his senses and that he spake +sensibly, and to as good understanding as he used to do. He then +enquired what words he spoke. To which Anne Langley answered that she +heard him say, "HERE I DIE INNOCENTLY," and she said that she had been +at the departing of many, but never was where was such sweet +departing; and at his departing his last words were, "NOW I MUST GO," +and turned his head to me and said, "THOMAS, THIS DEATH I MUST DIE," +and further said, "O THOMAS, I HAVE SEEN GREAT THINGS," and bade me +that I should not hold him, but let him go, and said it over again, +"WILL YOU NOT HOLD ME?" And then said Anne, "Dear Heart, we will not +hold thee." And he said, "NOW I GO," and stretched out himself, and +fell into a sweet sleep and slept about an hour (as he often said, +that one hour's sleep would cure him of all), and so drew breath no +more.' + + * * * * * + +Little James was free at last. He had left his frail, weary body +behind and had departed on the longest, shortest journey of all. A +journey this, ending in no noisome den in Carlisle Castle, as when he +first saw the earthly teacher he had loved so long, but leading +straight and swift to the heavenly abiding-places: to the welcome of +his unseen yet Everlasting Friend. + + 'How know I that it looms lovely, that land I have never seen, + With morning-glory and heartsease, and unexampled green? + All souls singing, seeing, rejoicing everywhere, + Yea, much more than this I know, for I know that Christ + is there.'[31] + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[28] _James Parnell_, by C. Fell Smith. + +[29] 'Lamb's Defence against Lyes.' + +[30] _First Publishers of Truth_. + +[31] Christina Rossetti. + + + + +XIX. THE CHILDREN OF READING MEETING + + + + + _'And all must be meeke, sober and + jentell and quiet and loving, and + not give one another bad word noe + time in the skouell, nor out of it + ... all is to mind their lessons + and be digelent in their + rightings, and to lay up their + boukes when they go from the + skouell and ther pens and + inkonerns and to keep them sow, + else they must be louk'd upon as + carles and slovenes; and soe you + must keep all things clean, suet + and neat and hanson.'--G. FOX. + Advice to Schoolmasters._ + + + _'Dear and tender little Babes, as + well as strong men, ... let not + anything straiten you, when God + moves: And thou, faithful Babe, + though thou stutter and stammer + forth a few words in the dread of + the Lord, they are accepted, and + all that are strong, serve the + weak in strengthening them and + wait in wisdom to give place to + the motion of the Spirit in them, + that it may have time to bring + forth what God hath given ... that + ... you maybe a well spring of + Life to one another in the power + of the endless love of God.'--W. + DEWSBURY._ + + + _'When the Justices threatened + Friend John Boult and told him + that he and other Reading Friends + should be sent to prison, he + replied: "That's the weakest thing + thou canst do. If thou canst + convince me of anything that is + evil, I will hear thee and let the + prisons alone."'--W.C. BRAITHWAITE._ + + + + +XIX. THE CHILDREN OF READING MEETING + + +It was a most uncomfortable First Day morning. The children looked at +each other and wondered what would happen next, as they stood in the +small bedroom under the thatched roof. Dorcas, the eldest, already +half dressed, held Baby Stephen in her arms; but the twins, Tryphena +and Tryphosa, were running about the floor with bare feet and only +their petticoats on, strings and tapes all flying loose. Baby was +crying, whilst the Twins shouted with mischievous glee. Something must +be done. So Dorcas seated herself in a big chair and tried to dress +Baby. But Baby was hungry. He wanted his breakfast and he did not at +all want to be dressed! Oh, if only Mother was here! Where was Mother +all this long time? Had she and Father really been taken to prison? +Dorcas felt heart-sick at the thought. Happily the Twins and Baby were +too little to understand. She herself was nearly ten and therefore +almost grown up. She understood now all about it quite well. This was +what Mother had meant when she bent down to kiss her little girl in +bed last night, saying that she was going out to a Meeting at Friend +Curtis' house, hoping to be back in an hour or two. 'But if not'--here +Dorcas remembered that Mother's eyes had filled with tears. She had +left the sentence unfinished, adding only: 'Anyway, I know I can trust +thee, Dorcas, to be a little mother to the little ones while I am +away.' 'But if not....' Dorcas had been too sleepy last night to +think what the words meant, or to keep awake until Mother's return. It +seemed as if she had only just closed her eyes for a minute or two; +and yet, when she opened them again, the bright morning sunlight was +filling the room. + +'But if not....' After all, there had been no need for Mother to +finish the sentence. Now that Dorcas was wide awake she could complete +it for herself only too well. For Dorcas knew that at any moment a +Meeting of five or more persons who met to practise a form of worship +not authorized by law might be rudely interrupted by the constables, +and all the Friends who were sitting in silence together dragged off +to prison for disobeying the Quaker Act. Since that Act had been +passed in this same month of May 1662, Quaker children understood that +this might happen at any moment, but of course each child hoped that +it would not happen just yet, or at least not to his own Father and +Mother. But now apparently it had happened here in peaceful Reading +beside the broad Thames. + +Last night's Meeting had been fixed at an unusually late hour. For, as +the late Spring evenings were lengthening, the Reading Quakers had +wished to take advantage of the long May twilight to gather together +and meet with a Friend, one of the Valiant Sixty, who had come in for +a few hours unexpectedly on his way to London. So the children had +fallen asleep as usual, fully expecting to find their parents beside +them when they woke. But now the empty places and the unslept-in beds +told their own tale. + +'Be a mother to the little ones, Dorcas,' Mother had said. Well, +Dorcas was trying her very best, but it was not easy. Baby had many +strings to tie and many buttons to fasten, and just as she was getting +the very last button safely into its button-hole the Twins came +running up to say that they had got into each other's clothes by +mistake and could not get out of them again. This was serious; for +though Phenie's frock was only a little too big for Phosie, Phosie's +frock was much too small for Phenie. + +Dorcas was obliged to put Baby down to attend to them; but this +reminded Baby that he had still not been provided with his +much-desired breakfast, whereupon he began to howl, till Dorcas took +him up in her arms again, and dandled him as Mother did. This made him +crow for happiness, just as he did when Mother took him, so for a few +minutes Dorcas was happy too, till she saw that the Twins were now +beginning to squabble again, and to tear out each other's hair with +the comb. At that unlucky moment up came brother Peter's big voice +calling from below, 'Dorcas, Dorcas, what are you all doing up there? +Why is not breakfast ready? I have milked the cow for you. You must +come down this very minute; I am starving!' + +It was an uncomfortable morning; and the worst of it was that it was +First Day morning too. Dorcas had not known before that a First Day +morning could be uncomfortable. Usually First Day was the happiest day +in the whole week. Mother's hands were so gentle that, though the +children had been taught to help themselves as soon as they were old +enough, still Mother always seemed to know just when there was an +unruly button that needed a little coaxing to help it to find its +hole, or a string that wanted to get into a knot that ought to be +persuaded to tie itself into a bow. + +Then breakfast was always a pleasant meal, with the big blue bowls +full of milk, warm from the cow, set out on the wooden table, and +Father sitting at one end raising his hand as he said a silent Grace. +Father never said any words at these times. But he bent his head as if +he were thanking Someone he loved very much, Someone close beside him, +for giving him the milk and bread to give to the children and for +making him very happy. So the children felt happy too. Dorcas thought +that the brown bread always tasted especially good on First Day +morning, because Father was at the head of the table to cut it and +hand it to them himself. On other, week-day, mornings he had to go off +much earlier, ploughing, or reaping, or gathering in the ripe corn +from the harvest-fields behind the farm. Also, Peter never teased the +little ones when Father was there. But to-day if there were no +breakfast, (and where was breakfast to come from?) Peter would be +dreadfully cross. Yet how could Dorcas go and get breakfast for Peter +when the three little ones were all wanting her help at once? + +'I'm coming, Peter, as fast as ever I can,' she called back, in answer +to a second yet more peremptory summons. But, oh! how glad she was to +hear a gentle knock at the door of the thatched cottage a minute or +two later. + +'Come in! come in!' she heard Peter saying joyfully as he opened the +door, and then came the sound of light footsteps on the wooden stairs. +Another minute, and the bedroom door opened gently, and a sunshiny +face looked into the children's untidy room. + +'Why, it is thee, Hester!' Dorcas exclaimed, with a cry of joy. 'Oh, I +am glad to see thee! And how glad Mother would be to know thou wert +here.' + +The girl who entered was both taller and older than Dorcas. She was a +well-loved playfellow evidently, for Tryphena and Tryphosa toddled +towards her across the room at once, to be caught up in her arms and +kissed. + +'Of course, it is I, Dorcas,' she answered promptly. 'Who else should +it be? Prudence and I determined that we would come over and try to +help thee as soon as we could. We brought a basket of provisions too, +in case you were short. Prudence is helping Peter to set out breakfast +in the kitchen now, so we must hasten.' + +Life often becomes easy when you are two, however difficult it may +have been when you were only one! With Hester to help, the dressing +was finished at lightning speed. Yet, when the children came down to +the kitchen, Prudence and Peter already had the fire blazing away +merrily; the warm milk was foaming in the bowls. The hungry children +thought, as they drank it up, that never before had breakfast tasted +so good. + +'Hester, what made thee think of coming?' Dorcas asked a little later, +when, Baby's imperious needs being satisfied, she was able to begin +her own breakfast, while he drummed an accompaniment on the back of +her hand with a wooden spoon. 'How did the news reach thee? Or have +they taken thy Father and Mother away too? Have all the Friends gone +to gaol this time?' + +Hester nodded. Her bright face clouded for a moment or two. Then she +resolutely brushed the cloud away. + +'Yea, in truth, Dorcas,' she answered. 'I fear much that only we +children are left. Anyhow, thy parents and mine are taken, and the +others as well most like. My Father had warning from a trusty source +that he and other Friends had best not meet in Thomas Curtis' house +last night. But he is never one to be turned aside from his purpose, +thou knows. So he took me between his knees and said, "Hester, dear +maid, thy mother and I must go. 'Tis none of our choosing. If we are +taken, fear not for us, nor for thyself and Prue. Only seek to nourish +and care for the tender babes in the other houses, whence Friends are +likely to be taken also." Therefore I hastened hither to help thee, +Dorcas, bringing Prudence with me, partly because I love thee, and +thou art mine own dear friend, but also because it was my Father's +command. If I can be of service to thee, perhaps he will pat my head +when he returns out of gaol and say, as he doth sometimes, "I knew I +could trust thee, my Hester."' + +'Will they be long in prison, dost thou think?' asked Dorcas, with a +tremor in her voice. She was always an anxious-minded little girl, and +inclined to look on the gloomy side of things, whereas Hester was +sunshine itself. + +'Who can say?' answered Hester, and again even her bright face +clouded. 'The Justices are sure to tender to them the oath, but since +they follow Him who commanded, "Swear not at all," how can they take +it?' + +'Then, if they refuse, they will be said to be out of the King's +protection, and the Justices and the gaolers may do with them as they +will,' added Peter doggedly. + +At these words Hester, seeing that Dorcas looked very sorrowful and +almost ready to cry, checked Peter suddenly, and said, 'At any rate, +we can but hope for the best. And now we must hasten, or we shall be +late for Meeting.' + +'Meeting?' Dorcas looked up in surprise. 'I thought thou saidst that +all the Friends had been taken.' + +'All the men and women, yes,' answered Hester; 'but we children are +left. We know what our Fathers and Mothers would have us do.' + +Here Peter broke in, 'Yes, of course, Dorcas, we must go to show them +that Friends are not cowards, and that we will keep up our Meetings +come what may. Dost thou not mind what friend Thomas Curtis' wife, +Mistress Nan, has often told us of her father, the Sheriff of Bristol? +How he was hung before his own door, because men said he was +endeavouring to betray the city to Prince Rupert, and thus serve his +king in banishment. Shall we be less loyal than he?' + +'Loyal to our King, Dorcas,' added Hester gently. + +Dorcas hesitated no longer. + +'Thou art right, Hester,' she answered, 'and Peter, thou art right +too. We will go all together. I had forgotten. Of course children as +well as grown-up people can wait upon God.' + + * * * * * + +The children arrived at the Friends' usual meeting place, only to find +it locked and strongly guarded. They went on, undismayed, to Friend +Lamboll's orchard, but, there also, two heavy padlocks, sealed with +the King's seal, were upon the green gate. An old goody from a cottage +hard by waved them away. 'Be off, children! Here is no place for you,' +she said; adding not unkindly, 'your parents were taken near here +yester eve, and the officers of the law are still prowling round. This +orchard is sure to be one of the first places they will visit.' + +Then seeing the tired look on Dorcas' face, as she turned to go, with +heavy Stephen in her arms: 'Here, give the babe to me,' she said, +'I'll care for him this forenoon. Thy mother managed to get a word +with me last night as the officers dragged her away, and I promised +her I would do what I could to help you, though you be Quakers and I +hold to the Church. See, he'll be safe in this cradle while you go and +play, though it is forty years and more since it held a babe of my +own.' + +Very thankfully Dorcas laid Stephen, now sleeping peacefully, down in +the oaken cradle in the old woman's flagged kitchen. Then she ran off +to join the others assembled at a little distance from the orchard +gate. By this time a few more children had joined them: two or three +girls, and four or five older boys. + +Where were they to meet? The sight of the closed house, and the sealed +gate, even the mention of the officers of the law, far from +frightening the children, had only made them more than ever clear +that, somewhere or other, the Meeting must be held. + +At length one of the elder boys suggested 'My father's granary?' The +very place!--they all agreed: so thither the little flock of children +trooped. The granary was a large building of grey stone lighted only +by two mullioned windows high up in the walls. In Queen Elizabeth's +days these windows had lighted the small rooms of an upper storey, but +now the dividing floor had been removed to make more room for the +grain which lay piled up as high as the roof over more than half the +building. But, at one end, there was an empty space on the floor, and +here the children seated themselves on scattered bundles of hay. + +Quietly Meeting began. At first some of the children peeped up at one +another anxiously under their eyelids. It felt very strange somehow to +be gathering together in silence alone without any grown-up people. +Were they really doing right? Dorcas' heart began to beat rather +nervously, and a hot flush dyed her cheek, until she looked across at +Hester sitting opposite, and was calmed by the peaceful expression of +the elder girl's face. Hester's hood had fallen back upon her +shoulders. Her fair hair, slightly ruffled, shone like a halo of pale +gold against the grey stone wall of the granary. Her blue eyes were +looking up, up at the blue sky, far away beyond the high window. + +'Hester looks happy, almost as if she were listening to something,' +Dorcas said to herself, 'something that comforts her although we are +all sad.' Then, settling herself cosily down into the hay, 'Now I will +try to listen for comfort too.' + +A few moments later the silence was broken by a half-whispered prayer +from a dark corner of the granary, 'Our dear, dear parents! help them +to be brave and faithful, and make us all brave and faithful too.' + +None of the boys and girls looked round to see who had spoken, for +the words seemed to come from the deepest place in their own hearts. + +Swiftly and speedily the children's prayer was answered. Help was +given to them, but they needed every scrap of their courage and faith +during the next half-hour. Almost before the last words of the prayer +died away, a loud noise was heard and the tramp of heavy feet coming +round the granary wall. The officers of the law were upon them: 'What, +yet another conventicle of these pestilential heretics to be broken +up?' shouted a wrathful voice. The next moment the door was roughly +burst open, and in the doorway appeared a much dreaded figure, no less +a person than Sir William Armorer himself, Justice of the Peace and +Equerry to the King. None of the children had any very clear idea as +to the meaning of that word 'equerry'; therefore it always filled them +with a vague terror of unknown possibilities. In after years, whenever +they heard it they saw again an angry man with a florid face, dressed +in a suit of apple-green satin slashed with gold, standing in a +doorway and wrathfully shaking a loaded cane over their heads. + +'Yet more of ye itching to be laid by the ears in gaol!' shouted this +apparition as he entered and slammed the heavy wooden door behind him. +But an expression of amazement followed when he was once inside the +room. + +'Brats! By my life! Quaker brats! and none beside them!' he exclaimed +astonished, as he looked round the band of children. 'Quaker brats +holding a conventicle of their own, as if they were grown men and +women! Having stopped the earth and gaoled the fox, must we now deal +with the litter? Look you here, do you want a closer acquaintance +with this?' + +With these words, he pointed his loaded stick at each of the children +in turn and drew out a sharp iron point concealed in one end of it, +and began to slash the air. Then, changing his mind again, he went +back to the door and called out to his followers in the passage +outside, 'Here, men, we will let the maidens go, but you must teach +these lads what it is to disobey the law, or I'm no Justice of His +Majesty's Peace.' + +Even in that moment of terror the children wondered not only at the +loud angry voice but at the unfamiliar scent that filled the room. The +air, which had been pure and fragrant with the smell of hay, was now +heavy and loaded with essences and perfumes. Well it might be, for +though the children knew it not, the flowing lovelocks of the curly +wig that descended to the Justice's shoulders had been scented that +very morning with odours of ambergris, musk, and violet, orris root, +orange flowers, and jessamine, as well as others besides. The stronger +scents of kennel and stable, and even of ale and beer, that filled the +room as the constables trooped into it were almost a relief to the +children, because they at least were familiar, and unlike the other +strange, sickly fragrance. + +The constables seized the boys, turned them out into the road, and +there punched and beat them with their own staffs and the Justice's +loaded stick until they were black in the face. The girls were driven +in a frightened bunch down the lane. Only Hester sat on in her place, +still and unmoved, sheltering the Twins in her bosom and holding her +hands over their eyes. Up to her came the angry Justice in a fine +rage, until it seemed as if the perfumed wig must almost touch her +smooth plaits of hair. Then, at last, Hester moved, but not in time to +prevent the Justice seizing her by the shoulder and flinging her down +the road after the others. Her frightened charges, torn from her arms, +still clung to her skirts, while the full-grown men strode along after +them, threatening to duck them all in the pond if they made the +slightest resistance, and did not at once disperse to their homes. + +It certainly was neither a comfortable thing nor a pleasant thing to +be a Quaker child in those stormy days. + +Nevertheless, pleasant or unpleasant, comfortable or uncomfortable, +made no difference. It was thanks to the courage of this handful of +boys and girls that, in spite of the worst that Mr. Justice Armorer +could do, in spite of the dread of him and his constables, in spite of +his angry face, of his scented wig and loaded cane, in spite of all +these things,--still, Sunday after Sunday, through many a long anxious +month, God was worshipped in freedom and simplicity in the town by +silver Thames. Reading Meeting was held. + +Meantime, throughout these same long months, within the prison walls +the fathers and mothers prayed for their absent children. Although +apart from one another, the two companies were not really separated; +for both were listening to the same Shepherd's voice. Until, at last, +the happy day came when the gaol-doors were opened and the prisoners +released. Then, oh the kissing and the hugging! the crying and the +blessing! as the parents heard of all the children had undergone in +order to keep faithful and true! That was indeed the most joyful +meeting of all! + +Thankfulness and joy last freshly through the centuries, as an old +letter, written at that time by one of the fathers to George Fox still +proves to us to-day: 'Our little children kept the meetings up, when +we were all in prison, notwithstanding that wicked Justice when he +came and found them there, with a staff that had a spear in it would +pull them out of the Meeting, and punch them in the back till some of +them were black in the face ... his fellow is not, I believe, to be +found in all England a Justice of the Peace.' + + * * * * * + +'For they might as well think to hinder the Sun from shining, or the +tide from flowing, as to think to hinder the Lord's people from +meeting to wait upon Him.' + + + + +XX. THE SADDEST STORY OF ALL + + + + + _'Take heed of forward minds, and + of running out before your guide, + for that leads out into looseness; + and such plead for liberty, and + run out in their wills and bring + dishonour to the Lord.'..._ + + _'And take heed if under a pretence + of Liberty you do not ... set up + that both in yourselves and on + others that will be hard to get + down again.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'The Truth in this city spreads + and flourisheth; many large + meetings we have, and great ones + of the world come to them, and are + much tendered. James is fitted for + this great place, and a great love + is begotten towards him'--A. + PARKER to M. Fell, 1655 (from + London, before Nayler's fall)._ + + + _'His forebearing in due time to + testify against the folly of those + his followers (who magnified him) + was his great weakness and loss of + judgment, and brought the greatest + suffering upon him, Poor Man! + Though when he was delivered out + of the snare, he did condemn all + their wild and mad actions towards + him and judged himself also. + Howbeit our adversaries and + persecutors unjustly took occasion + thereupon, to triumph and insult, + and to reproach and roar against + Quakers, though as a People (they + were) wholly unconcerned and clear + from those offences.'--G. WHITEHEAD._ + + + _'And so His will is my + peace.'--JAMES NAYLER._ + + + + +XX. THE SADDEST STORY OF ALL + +BUT IT HAS A HAPPY END + + +Children--come close. Let us hold hands and gather round the fire. +This story must be told in the twilight, while the room is all dark +except for the dim glow of the coals. Then, if a few tears do run down +our cheeks--no one will see them. And presently the lamp will come in, +the darkness will vanish, and the story will end happily--as most +stories do if we could only carry them on far enough. What makes the +sadness to us, often, is that we only see such a little bit of the +way. + +This is the story of a man who made terrible mistakes, and suffered a +terrible punishment. But, through his sufferings, and perhaps even +through the great mistakes he made, he learned some lessons that he +might never have learned in any other way. His name was James Nayler. +He was born in 1616, and was the son of a well-to-do farmer in +Yorkshire. He was 'educated in good English,' and learned to write and +speak well. His early life seems to have been uneventful. At the age +of 22 he married, and settled near Wakefield with his young wife, +Anne. After a few years of happy married life, the long dispute +between King Charles and his Parliament finally broke out into Civil +War. The old peaceful life of the countryside was at an end. +Everywhere men were called upon to take sides and to arm. James Nayler +was one of the first to answer that call. He enlisted in the +Parliamentary Army under Lord Fairfax, and spent the next nine or ten +years as a soldier. Under General Lambert he rose to be quartermaster, +and the prospect of attaining still higher military rank was before +him when his health broke down and he was obliged to return home. + +A little later he made a friend. One eventful Sunday in 1652 'the Man +in Leather Breeches' visited Wakefield, and came to the +'Steeple-house' where Nayler had been accustomed to worship with his +family. Directly the sermon was finished, all the people in the church +pointed at the Stranger, and called him to come up to the priest. Fox +rose, as his custom was, and began to 'declare the word of life.' He +went on to say that he thought the priest who had been preaching had +been deceiving his hearers in some parts of his sermon. Naturally the +priest who had spoken did not like this, and although some of the +congregation agreed with Fox, and felt that 'they could have listened +to him for ever,' most of the people hated the Stranger for his words. +They rushed at Fox, punching and beating him; then, crying, 'Let us +have him in the stocks!' they thrust him out of the door of the +church. Once in the cool fresh air, however, the crowd became less +violent. Their mood changed. Instead of hustling their unresisting +visitor through the town and clapping him into the stocks, they loosed +their hold of him and suffered him to go quietly away. + +As he departed, George Fox came upon another group of people assembled +at a little distance. These were the men and women who had listened to +him gladly in church, who now wished to hear more of the new truths he +had been declaring. Among them was James Nayler, a man older than +Fox, who had been convinced by him a year earlier. This second visit, +however, clinched Nayler's allegiance to his new friend. Possibly, +having been a soldier himself, he began by admiring Fox's courage. +Here was a man who refused to strike a single blow in self-defence. He +was apparently quite ready to let the angry mob do what they would, +and yet in the end he managed to quell their rage by the force of his +own spiritual power. The Journal simply says that a great many people +were convinced that day of the truth of the Quaker preaching, and that +'they were directed to the Lord's teaching _in themselves_.' + +Hereupon the priest of the church became very angry. He spread abroad +many untrue stories about Fox, saying that he 'carried bottles with +him, and made people drink of them and so made them follow him and +become Quakers.' + +At Wakefield, also, in those days, as well as farther North, +'enchantment' was the first and simplest explanation of anything +unusual. This same priest also said that Fox rode upon a great black +horse, and was seen riding upon it in one county at a certain time, +and was also seen on the same horse and at the very same time in +another county sixty miles away. + +'With these lies,' says Fox, 'he fed his people, to make them think +evil of the truth which I had declared amongst them. But by those lies +he preached many of his hearers away from him, for I was travelling on +foot and had no horse; which the people generally knew.' + +James Nayler at any rate decided to become one of Fox's followers, and +let the priest do his worst. It may have been at his house that +George Fox lodged that night, thankful for its shelter, having slept +under a hedge the night before. When Fox left, Nayler did not go with +him, but remained quietly at home. Having been a farmer's son before +he became a soldier, he quietly returned to his farming when he left +the army. One day in early spring, a few months after Fox's visit, as +James Nayler was driving the plough and thinking of the things of God, +he heard a Voice calling to him through the silence, telling him to +leave his home and his relations, for God would be with him. At first +James Nayler rejoiced exceedingly because he had heard the Voice of +God, but when he considered how much he would have to give up if he +left home, he tried to put the command aside. Nothing that he +undertook prospered with him after this; he fell ill and nearly died, +till at last he was made willing to surrender his own will utterly and +go out, ready to do God's will, day by day and hour by hour, as it +should be revealed to him. 'And so he continued, not knowing one day +what he was to do the next; and the promise of God that He would be +with him, he found made good to him every day.' These are his own +words. His inward guidance led him into the west of England, and there +he found George Fox. + +After this Nayler and Fox were often together. Sometimes Nayler would +take a long journey to see Fox when he was staying with his dear +friends at Swarthmoor. Sometimes they wrote beautiful letters to each +other. Here is one from Nayler to Fox that might have been written to +us to-day: + +'Dear hearts, you make your own troubles by being unwilling and +disobedient to that which would lead you safe. There is no way but to +go hand in hand with Him in all things, running after Him without fear +or considering, leaving the whole work only to Him. If He seem to +smile, follow Him in fear and love, and if He seem to frown, follow +Him and fall into His will, and you shall see He is yours still,--for +He will prove His own.' + +[Illustration: 'THE VOICE OF THE SILENCE'] + +Nayler's adventurous journey with Fox to Walney Island must have drawn +their friendship closer than ever. In spite of hardships these were +happy days as they went about the country together on God's errands. +But these days came to an end. + +You see, Nayler had not found his faith after a long struggle as +George Fox had done. Perhaps he had accepted it a little too easily, +and too confidently, in his own strength. He was a splendid, brilliant +preacher, and he loved arguing for his new belief in public. Once, in +Derbyshire, in an argument with some ministers, he got so much the +best of it that the crowd was delighted and cried out, 'A Nailer, a +Nailer hath confuted them all.' + +Another time, when he was attending a meeting at a Friend's house, he +says that 'hundreds of vain people continued all the while throwing +great stones in at the window, but we were kept in great peace +within.' It would be rather difficult to sit quite still and 'think +meeting thoughts' with large stones flying through the windows, would +it not? + +Once, when I was at a service on board ship, a few years ago, a +tremendous wave broke through the port-hole and splashed the kneeling +men and women on that side of the saloon. They were so startled that +nearly all of them jumped, and one called out quite loudly, 'Oh, +what's that?' But the clergyman went on quietly reading the service, +and very soon everything became still and quiet again. + +James Nayler also continued to give his message of stillness and calm, +and the gathered people, listening to him intently, forgot to think +about the stones. He must have had a great deal of that strange +quality that we call magnetism. Just as a magnet attracts bits of iron +to it, so some people have the power of attracting others to listen to +them and love them. Fox was the most powerful magnet of all the Quaker +preachers. He attracted people in thousands all over the country. But +Nayler seems to have had a great deal of magnetism too, though it was +of a different kind. For one thing he was handsomer to look at than +Fox. He is described as 'of ruddy complexion and medium height, with +long, low hanging brown hair, oval face, and nose that rose a little +in the middle: he wore a small band close to his collar, but no band +strings, and a hat that hung over his brows.' + +But it would have been happier for him if he had not been so +good-looking, as you will see presently. He must have had much charm +of manner, too. A court lady, Abigail, Lady Darcy, invited him to her +house to preach, and there, beside all the people who had assembled to +hear him, many other much grander listeners were also present although +unseen, 'lords, ladies, officers, and ministers.' + +These great people, not wishing it to be known that they came to +listen to the Quaker preacher, were hidden away behind a ceiling. +Nayler himself must have known of their presence, since he mentions +it in a letter, though he does not explain how a ceiling could be a +hiding-place. He spoke to them afterwards of the Voice that had called +him as he was ploughing in the fields at home. These fine lords and +ladies could not understand what he meant. 'A Voice, a Voice?' they +asked him, 'but did you really hear it?' 'Aye, verily, I did hear it,' +he replied in such solemn tones that they wondered more than ever what +he meant; and perhaps they began to listen too for the Inner Voice. + +The discovery that he, a humble Quaker preacher, could attract all +this attention did James Nayler harm. Instead of remembering only the +thankfulness and joy of being entrusted with his Master's message, he +allowed small, lower feelings to creep into his heart: 'What a good +messenger I am! Don't I preach well? Far grander people throng to hear +me than to any other Quaker minister's sermons!' + +Another temptation came to him through his good looks. He was +evidently getting to think altogether too much about himself. It was +James Nayler this and James Nayler that, far too much about James +Nayler. Also, some of his friends were foolish, and did not help him. +The interesting thing about James Nayler is that his chief temptations +always came to him through his good qualities. If he had been a little +duller, or a little uglier, or a little stupider, if he had even made +fewer friends, he might have walked safely all his life. As it was, +instead of listening only to the Voice of God, he allowed himself to +listen to one of the most dangerous suggestions of the Tempter. Nayler +began to think that he might imitate Jesus Christ not only in inner +ways, not only by trying to be meek and loving and gentle and +self-sacrificing, as He was to all the people around Him. That is the +way we may all try to be like Him. Nayler also tried to imitate Him in +outer ways. He found a portrait of the Saviour and noticed how He was +supposed to have worn His hair and beard; and then he arranged his own +hair and beard in the same way. He even attempted to work miracles +like those in the Gospel story. He tried to fast as Christ had done, +'He ate no bread but one little bit for a whole month, and there was +about a fortnight ... he took no manner of food, but some days a pint +of white wine, and some days a gill mingled with water.' This was when +he was imprisoned in Exeter Gaol with many other Quakers. One woman +among them fainted and became unconscious, and she believed she had +been brought back to life by Nayler's laying his hand on her head and +saying, 'Dorcas, arise.' + +Some of his friends and the other women in the prison were foolish and +silly. Instead of helping Nayler to serve God in lowliness and +humility, they flattered his vanity, and encouraged him to become yet +more vain and presumptuous. They even knelt before him in the prison, +bowing and singing, 'Holy, holy, holy.' Some one wrote him a wicked +letter saying, 'Thy name shall be no more James Nayler, but Jesus'! + +Nayler confessed afterwards that 'a fear struck him' when he received +that letter. He put it in his pocket, meaning that no one should see +it. But though Nayler did not himself encourage his friends in their +wicked folly, still he did not check them as he should have done. He +thought that he was meant to be a 'sign of Christ' for the world. He +was weak in health at the time, and had suffered much from +imprisonment and long fasting; so it can be said in excuse that his +mind may have been clouded, and that perhaps he did not altogether +understand what was being done. + +The real sadness of this story is that we cannot excuse him +altogether. Some of the blame for the silly and foolish and wicked +things that were done around him does, and must, belong to him too. He +ought to have known and to have forbidden it all from the beginning. +George Fox and the other steady Friends of course did not approve of +these wild doings of James Nayler and his friends. George Fox came to +see James Nayler in prison at Exeter, and reproved him for his errors. +James Nayler was proud and would not listen to rebukes, though he +offered to kiss George Fox at parting. But Fox, who was 'stiff as a +tree and pure as a bell,' would not kiss any man, however much he +loved him, who persisted in such wrong notions. The two friends parted +very sorrowfully, and with a sad heart Fox returned to the inn on +Exeter Bridge. Not all the 'Seven Stars' on its signboard could shine +through this cloud. + +After this, things grew worse. Nayler persisted in his idea that he +was meant, in his own life, and in his own body, to imitate Jesus +Christ outwardly, and the women persisted in their wild acting round +him. When Nayler and his admirers came to Bristol, in October 1656, +they arranged a sort of play scene, to make it like the entry of Jesus +into Jerusalem. One man, bareheaded, led Nayler's horse, and the women +spread scarves and handkerchiefs in the way before him, as they had no +palms. They even shouted 'Hosanna!' and other songs and hymns that +they had no business to sing except in the worship of God. + +They meant it to be all very brilliant and triumphant. But it was +really a miserable sort of affair, for the rain came down heavily, and +the roads were muddy and dirty, which made the whole company wet and +draggled. Still it was not the rain that mattered,--what mattered most +was that none of them can have had the sunshine of peace in their +hearts, for they must have known that they were doing wrong. + +Anyhow the magistrates of the city of Bristol had no manner of doubt +about that. As soon as the foolish, dishevelled, excited company +reached the city they were all clapped into gaol, which was perhaps +the best place to sober their excited spirits. The officers of the law +were thoroughly well pleased. They had said from the first that George +Fox was a most dangerous man, and that the Quakers were a misguided +people to follow him. Now the folly and wickedness of Nayler and his +company gave them just the excuse they were wanting to prove that they +had been right all along. + +James Nayler was taken to London, tried, found guilty, and sentenced +to savage punishments. He was examined at length by a Committee of +Parliament. Just before his sentence was pronounced he said that he +'did not know his offence,' which looks as if his mind really had been +clouded over when some of the things he was accused of were done. But +this was not allowed to be any excuse. 'You shall know your offence by +your punishment' was the only answer he received. The members of +Oliver Cromwell's second Parliament who dealt with Nayler's case were +not likely to be lenient to any man, who, like Nayler, had done wrong +and allowed himself to be led astray. His Commonwealth judges showed +him no mercy indeed. When Nayler heard his terrible sentence, he +listened calmly, and said, 'God has given me a body: God will, I hope, +give me a spirit to endure it. I pray God He may not lay it to your +charge.' This shows that he had learned really to share his Master's +Spirit, which is the only true way of imitating Him. + +The punishments were cruel and vindictive. They lasted through many +weeks. Half way through, many 'persons of note' signed a petition to +ask that he might be allowed to miss the rest of the penalties, owing +to his enfeebled condition. In spite of this, the whole barbarous +sentence was carried out. James Nayler bore it unflinchingly. I am +only going to tell you one or two of the cruel things that were done +to him--and those not the worst. He was sentenced to have the letter +'B' burned on his forehead with a hot iron. 'B' stands for +'Blasphemer,' and it was to show everybody who saw him, wherever he +came, that he had been found guilty of saying wicked things about God. +The worst part of this punishment must have been knowing in his heart +that the accusation was, more or less, true. + +There he stood before the Old Exchange in London, on a bitter December +day, in the presence of thousands of spectators. He bore not only the +branding with a red-hot iron on the forehead until smoke arose from +the burning flesh, but also other worse tortures with 'a wonderful +patience.' The crowd, who always assembled on such occasions, were +touched by his demeanour. Instead of jeering and mocking, as they +were accustomed to do to criminals, all these thousands of people +lifted their hats in token of respect, and remained standing +bareheaded as they watched him in his agony. It is said that 'he +shrinked a little when the iron came upon his forehead,' yet on being +unbound he embraced his executioner. One faithful friend, Robert Rich, +who had done his utmost to save Nayler from this terrible punishment, +stood with him on the pillory and held his hand all through the +burning, and afterwards licked the wounds with his tongue to allay the +pain. 'I am the dog that licked Lazarus' sores,' Robert Rich used to +say, alluding to that terrible day. Long years after, when he was an +old man with a long white beard, he used to walk up and down in +Meeting in a long velvet gown, still repeating the story of his +friend's sufferings and of his patience. + + * * * * * + +After this punishment Nayler was sent down to Bristol to undergo the +rest of his sentence there. He was made to enter the city again in +deepest humiliation, no longer with excited followers shouting +'Hosanna!' before him, but seated on a horse _facing to the tail_, +with the big 'B' burned on his forehead for all men to see--and then +he was publicly whipped. + +Yet in spite of all the pain and shame he must have been happier in +one way during that sorrowful return to Bristol than at his former +entrance to the city, for he must have had more true peace in his +heart. + +Now, at last, comes the happy end of this sad story. There is no need +to sit over the fire in the darkness any longer. We can dry our eyes +and light the lamps--for it is not sorrowful really. James Nayler's +mistakes and sufferings had not been wasted. They had made him more +really like his Master, and his worst troubles were now over. + +He still lay in prison for two years more, but he was allowed ink and +paper, and he wrote many beautiful letters acknowledging that he had +done wrong, confessing his sin, and praising God even for the +sufferings which had shown him his error. He says in one place, 'the +provocation of that time of temptation was exceeding great against the +pure love of God; yet He left me not; for after I had given myself +under that power, and darkness was above, my adversary so prevailed, +that all things were turned and so perverted against my right seeing, +hearing, or understanding; only a secret hope and faith I had in my +God whom I had served, that He would bring me through it, and to the +end of it, and that I should again see the day of my redemption from +under it all; and this quieted my soul in my greatest tribulation.' + +And again, 'Dear brethren--My heart is broken this day for the offence +that I have occasioned to God's truth and people.... + +'And concerning you, the tender plants of my Father, who have suffered +through me, or with me, in what the Lord hath suffered to be done with +me, in this time of great trial and temptation; the Almighty God of +love, Who hath numbered every sigh, and put every tear in His bottle, +reward it a thousandfold into your bosoms, in the day of your need, +when you shall come to be tried and tempted; and in the meantime +fulfil your joy with His love, which you seek after. The Lord knows, +it was never in my heart to cause you to mourn, whose suffering is my +greatest sorrow that ever yet came upon me, for you are innocent +herein.' After this, at last he was set free. The first thing he did +was to try to return home to his wife and children. It is said that +'he was a man of great self-denial, and very jealous of himself ever +after his fall and recovery. At last, departing from the city of +London, about the latter end of October 1660, towards the north, +intending to go home to his wife and children at Wakefield in +Yorkshire, he was seen by a Friend of Hertford (sitting by the wayside +in a very awful, weighty frame of mind), who invited him to his house, +but he refused, signifying his mind to pass forward, and so went on +foot as far as Huntingdon, and was observed by a Friend as he passed +through the town, in such an awful frame, as if he had been redeemed +from the earth, and a stranger on it, seeking a better country and +inheritance. But going some miles beyond Huntingdon, he was taken ill +(being as 'tis said) robbed by the way, and left bound: whether he +received any personal injury is not certainly known, but being found +in a field by a countryman toward evening, was had, or went to a +Friend's house at Holm, not far from King's Ripton, where Thomas +Parnell, a doctor of physic, dwelt, who came to visit him; and being +asked, if any Friends at London should be sent for to come and see +him; he said, "Nay," expressing his care and love to them. Being +shifted, he said, "You have refreshed my body, the Lord refresh your +souls"; and not long after departed this life in peace with the Lord, +about the ninth month, 1660, and the forty-fourth year of his age, and +was buried in Thomas Parnell's burying-ground at King's Ripton +aforesaid.' + +'I don't call that a happy ending. I call it a very sad ending indeed! +What could be worse? To sit all alone by the roadside, and then +perhaps to be robbed and bound, or if not that, at any rate to be +taken ill and carried to a stranger's house to die. That is only a +sorrowful ending to a most sorrowful life.' + +Is this what anyone is thinking? + +Ah, but listen! That is not the real end. It is said that 'about two +hours before his death he spoke in the presence of several witnesses' +these words: + +'There is a spirit which I feel, that delights to do no evil, nor to +revenge any wrong, but delights to endure all things, in hope to enjoy +its own in the end: its hope is to outlive all wrath and contention, +and to weary out all exaltation and cruelty, or whatever is of a +nature contrary to itself. It sees to the end of all temptations: as +it bears no evil in itself, so it conceives none in thoughts to any +other: if it be betrayed it bears it, for its ground and spring is the +mercies and forgiveness of God: its crown is meekness, its life is +everlasting love unfeigned, and takes its kingdom with entreaty, and +not with contention, and keeps it by lowliness of mind: in God alone +it can rejoice, though none else regard it, or can own its life: it is +conceived in sorrow, and brought forth without any to pity it; nor +doth it murmur at grief and oppression: it can never rejoice but +through sufferings; for with the world's joy it is murdered: I found +it alone, being forsaken; I have fellowship therein with them who +lived in dens, and desolate places in the earth, who through death +obtained this resurrection and eternal holy life.' + +That is why this story has a happy ending. A made-up story might have +left James Nayler at home with his wife and children. But, after all +he had suffered, he may have been too tired to bear much joy on earth. +Besides, how could he have borne for those dear ones to see the +condemning 'B' burned on his forehead? and the other scars and signs +of his terrible punishments, how could they have borne to see them? + +Was it not better that the end came as it did by the roadside near +Huntingdon? + +Only remember always, that what we call the end is itself only the +beginning. + +Think how thankful James Nayler must have been to lay down the tired, +scarred body in which he had sinned and suffered, while his spirit, +strengthened, purified, and cleansed by all he had endured, was set +free to serve in the larger, fuller life beyond. James Nayler's +difficult school-days were over at last on this little earth, where we +are set to learn our lessons. Like the other prodigal son he had gone +to receive his own welcome from the Father's heart in the Father's +Home. + + * * * * * + +Why have I told you this story--'the saddest story of all'? A parable +will explain it best. Imagine that ever since the beginning of Time +there has been a great big looking-glass with the sun shining down +upon it. Then imagine that that looking-glass has been broken up into +innumerable fragments, and that one bit is given to each human soul, +when it is born on earth, to keep and to hold at the right angle, so +that it can still reflect the sun's beams. That is something like the +truth that George Fox discovered for himself and preached all over +England. He called it the doctrine of 'The Inner Light.' To all the +hungering, thirsting, sinful, ignorant men and women in England he +gave the same message: 'There is that of God within you, that can +reflect Him. You can hear His Voice speaking in your hearts'; or, to +continue the parable, 'If you hold your own little bit of +looking-glass in the sunlight it will, it must, reflect the Sun.' + +James Nayler listened to this message, accepted it, and rejoiced in +it. He did truly turn to the Light. But he forgot one thing that must +never be forgotten. He looked too much at his own tiny bit of +looking-glass and too little at the Sun. In this way the mirror of his +soul grew soiled and stained and dim. It could no longer reflect the +Light faithfully. Then, it had to be cleansed by suffering. But all +this time, and always, the Sun of God's unchanging love was steadily +shining, waiting for him to turn to it again. Let us too look up +towards that Sun of Love. Let us open our hearts wide to receive its +light. Then we shall find that we have not only a mirror in our hearts +but also something alive and growing; what George Fox would call the +'Seed.' Sometimes he calls it the 'Seed,' and sometimes the 'Light,' +because it is too wonderful for any picture or parable to express it +wholly. But we each have 'that of God within' that can reflect and +respond to Him, if we will only let it. Let us try then to open our +hearts wide, wide, to receive, and not to think of ourselves. If we do +this, sooner or later we shall learn to live and grow in the sunshine +of God's love, as easily and naturally as the daisies do, when they +spread their white and golden hearts wide open in the earthly +sunshine on a summer's day. + + * * * * * + +James Nayler did learn that lesson at last, and therefore even this, +'the saddest story of all,' really and truly has a happy end. + + + + +XXI. PALE WIND FLOWERS: OR THE LITTLE PRISON MAID + + + + + _'Let not anything straiten you + when God moves.'--W. DEWSBURY, + Epistle from York Tower, 1660._ + + + _'All friends and brethren + everywhere, that are imprisoned + for the Truth, give yourselves up + in it, and it will make you free, + and the power of the Lord will + carry you over all the + persecutors. Be faithful in the + life and power of the Lord God and + be valiant for the Truth on the + earth; and look not at your + sufferings, but at the power of + God; and that will bring some good + out of all your sufferings; and + your imprisonments will reach to + the prisoned that the persecutor + prisons in himself.... So be + faithful in that which overcomes + and gives victory.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'Bread and Wine were the Supper + of the Lord in the dispensation of + Time, ... a figure of His death, + which were fulfilled when He had + suffered and rose again, and now + He is known to stand at the door + and knock, "If any man hear my + Voice and open the door, I will + come in and sup with him and he + with me," saith Christ. And we + being many are one Bread and one + Body and know the Wine renewed in + our Father's Kingdom. Christ the + Substance we now witness; Shadows + and Figures done away; he that can + receive it, let him.'--W. DEWSBURY._ + + + + +XXI. PALE WIND FLOWERS: OR THE LITTLE PRISON MAID + + +I + +'Dear grandfather will be wearying for me! We must not linger.' There +was a wistful ring in the child's voice as she spoke. Little Mary Samm +looked longingly towards a clump of wood anemones dancing in the +sunshine, as she followed her aunt, Joan Dewsbury, through a coppice +of beech-trees on the outskirts of the city of Warwick. It was a +bright windy day of early spring in the year 1680. Mary was twelve +years old, but so small and slight that she looked and seemed much +younger. And now she wanted badly to gather some wood anemones. But +would Aunt Joan approve? Would it be selfish to leave 'dear +grandfather' longer alone? + +Happily the older woman, who preceded little Mary on the narrow +woodland pathway, possessed a kind heart underneath her severe, grey, +Quaker bodice and stiff manner. She caught the wistful tone in the +little girl's voice, and, turning round, noticed the wood anemones. +Indeed, the wood anemones insisted on being noticed. Joan Dewsbury +walked on a few steps further in silence; then, setting the heavy +basket down on the trunk of a felled tree, 'No, Mary,' she said, 'in +truth we must not linger; but we may rest a few moments. Also thou +knowest thy grandfather's love of a posy in his prison. If I see +aright, there are some pale windflowers blowing yonder, beside that +old tree, though it is full early for them still. Here, give me thy +basket, and hie thee to gather them. I will sit down and wait for thy +return; and, if we hasten our steps hereafter, we shall not be much +delayed.' + +Little Mary Samm glanced up with a joyful smile. She had espied the +few, first, faint windflowers as soon as she entered the wood; but, +without her aunt's permission, it would never have entered her head to +suggest that she might gather them. For Mary was a carefully trained +(not to say primly brought up) little maiden of the seventeenth +century, when children followed their elders' injunctions in all +things, without daring to dwell on their own wishes. If Joan Dewsbury +had been an artist she would have enjoyed watching the child's slim +little upright figure stepping daintily over the rustling brown beech +leaves, between the rounded trunks of the grey trees. The air was full +of the promise of early spring. A cold blue sky showed through the +lattice work of twigs and branches; but, as yet, no fluttering leaf +had crept out of its sheath to soften, with a hint of tender green, +the virginal stiffness and straightness of the stems. Grey among the +grey tree-trunks little Mary flitted about, gathering her precious +windflowers. She was clad in the demure Puritan dress worn by young +and old alike in the early days of the Society of Friends. A frock of +grey duffel hung in straight lines around her slight figure; a cape of +the same material was drawn closely round her shoulders, while a grey +bonnet framed the pensive face. A strange unchildlike face it was, +small and pinched, with a high, narrow forehead and sharply pointed +chin. There were no childish roses in the pale cheeks. A very faint +flush of pink, caused by fresh air and unwonted exercise, could not +disguise the curious yellow tinge of the skin, like old parchment +that has been kept too long from the light of day. Only the tips of a +few locks of light brown hair, cut very short and straight round the +ears, were visible under the close, tightly-fitting bonnet. + +[Illustration: PALE WINDFLOWERS] + +'An ugly little girl, in perfectly hideous clothes,' modern children +might have said if they had seen Mary Samm for the first time, looking +down at her windflowers, though even then there was a hint of beauty +in the long, curved, black eyelashes that lay quietly on the pale +cheeks, and a very sweet expression hovered round the corners of the +firm, delicate, little mouth. But no one who could have seen little +Mary running back to her aunt with her precious flowers in her hand +would have called her 'ugly' or even 'plain' any longer. The radiant +light in her eyes transfigured the small, pinched face of the demure +little being in its old-fashioned garments. Even critical modern +children would have forgotten everything else, and would have +exclaimed, 'She has the most beautiful eyes!' + +What colour were her eyes? They were not blue, or black, or grey, or +brown, or hazel, or green, or yellow. Perhaps they were in truth more +yellow than anything else. They were full not only of sparkling lights +but also of deep velvety shadows that made it difficult to tell their +exact colour. Who can say the colour of a mountain stream that runs +over a pebbled bed? Every stone can be seen through the clear, +transparent water, but there are mysterious, shadowy darknesses in it +also, reflected from the overhanging banks. Little Mary Samm's eyes +were both clear and mysterious as such a mountain stream; while her +voice,--but hush! she is speaking again, her rather shrill, high tones +breaking the crisp silence of the March afternoon. + +'Here is the posy, Aunt; will not dear grandfather love his pale +windflowers, come like stars to visit him in his prison? Only these +flower stars will not pass away quickly out of sight as do the real +stars we watch together through the bars every evening.' + +Joan Dewsbury took the bunch of anemones from her niece's cold +fingers, laid it down carefully in Mary's rush basket and covered it +with a corner of the cloth. Had she been a 'nowadays aunt' she might +have thought that Mary was not unlike a windflower herself. The girl's +small white face was flushed faintly, like the ethereal white sepals; +there was a delicate, fragile fragrance about her as if a breath might +blow her away, yet there was an unconquerable air of determination +also in her every movement and gesture. But Joan Dewsbury was not a +'nowadays aunt'; she was a 'thenadays aunt,' and that was an entirely +different kind. She never thought of comparing a little girl, who had +come to take care of her grandfather in his prison, with the white, +starry flowers that came out in the wood so early, holding on tight to +the roots of the old tree, and blooming gallantly through all the +gales of spring. Joan Dewsbury's thoughts were full of different and, +to her, far more important matters than her niece's appearance. She +rose, and, after handing Mary her small rush basket and settling her +own larger one comfortably on her arm, the two started off once more +with quickened steps through the wood. Neither the older woman nor the +girl was much of a talker, and the winding woodland pathways were too +narrow for two people to walk abreast. But when they came out on the +broad grassy way that wandered across the meadows by the side of the +smooth Avon towards the city walls, they did seem to have a few +things to say to one another. They spoke of the farm they had visited, +of the milk, eggs, and cheese they carried in their baskets. But most +often they mentioned 'the prison.' Little Mary still seemed to be in a +great hurry to get back to be with 'dear grandfather,' while her +companion was apparently anxious to detain her long enough to learn +something more of her life in the gaol. + +'I could envy thee, Mary, were it not a sin,' she said once. 'Thou art +a real comfort to my dear father. Since my mother died, gladly would I +have been his companion, and have sought to ease his captivity, but +the Governor of the gaol would not allow it.' + +'Ay, I know,' replied Mary, in her clear, high-pitched voice. 'My +mother told me that day at my home in Bedfordshire, that no one but a +child like me could be allowed to serve him, and to live in the prison +as his little maid.' + +'Didst thou want to come, Mary?' her aunt enquired. + +Mary's face clouded for a moment. Then she looked full at her aunt. +The candid eyes that had nothing to hide, reflected shadows as well as +light at that moment. + +'No, Aunt,' she said, firmly and clearly, 'at the first I did not want +to come. There was my home, thou seest; I love Hutton Conquest, and my +mother, and the maids, my sisters. Also I had many friends in our +village with whom I was wont to have rare frolics and games. When +first my mother told me of the Governor's permission, I did not want +to leave the pleasant Bedfordshire meadows that lie around our dear +farm, and go to live cooped up behind bolts and bars. Besides, I had +heard that Warwick Gaol was a fearsome place. I was affrighted at the +thought of being shut up among the thieves and murderers. And--' She +hesitated. + +'Poor maid,' said her aunt, 'still thou didst come in the end?' + +'In the end it was made clear to me that my place was with dear +grandfather,' said the child in her crisp, old-fashioned way. 'My +mother said she could not force me; for she feared the gaol fever for +me. I feared it too. And it is worse even than I feared. At nights I +hear the prisoners screaming with it often. Nearly every day some of +them die. They say it is worse for the young, and I know my +grandfather dreads that I may take it. He looks at me often very +sadly, or he did when I first came. Always then at nightfall he grew +sad. But, latterly, we have been so comfortable together that I think +he hath forgot his fears. When the evenings darken, and he can no +longer read or write, we sit and watch the stars. Then if I can +persuade him to tell me stories of what he hath undergone, that doth +turn his thoughts, and afterwards he will fall asleep, and sleep well +the whole night through.' + +'Thou art a comfort to him, sure enough,' her aunt answered. 'It is +wonderful how much brighter he hath been since he had thee, though he +hath never smiled since my mother's death. But thou thyself must +surely grow tired of the prison and its bare stone walls? Thou must +long to be back at play with thy sisters in the Bedfordshire meadows?' + +'That do I no longer,' little Mary Samm made answer firmly. 'I love my +sisters dearly, dearly,' she raised her voice unconsciously as she +spoke, and a chaffinch on a branch overhead filled in the pause with +an answering chirp, 'I love my mother too. Didst thou really say thou +wert expecting her to visit thee right soon? My dear, dear mother! But +I love my dear grandfather best of all, for he hath nobody but me to +care for him. At least, of course, he hath thee, Aunt Joan,' she added +hastily, noticing a slight shade pass over her aunt's face. 'And what +should we do without thee to bake bread for us, and go to the farm to +fetch him fresh eggs, and butter, and cheese, and sweet, new milk? He +would soon starve on the filthy prison fare. See, I have the milk +bottle safe hidden under my flowers.' + +'Aye, thou wast ever a careful maid,' answered her aunt; 'but, tell +me, hath the Governor indeed grown gentler of late, and hath he given +my father more liberty, and a better room?' + +'That he hath indeed. He patted my head this very morn, and said I +might have permission to come out and walk with thee for the first +time,' Mary answered. 'He saith, too, that the gaol is no place for a +child like me, and that thou shalt come and see us in a se'nnight from +now; then haply thou wilt bring my mother with thee! The room my +grandfather hath now is small in truth, but he can lie down at length, +and I have a little cupboard within the wall where I can also lie and +hear if he needs me. Doth he but stir or call "Mary" at nights, ever +so gently, in a moment I am by his side.' + +'And canst thou ease him?' her aunt enquired. + +'That I can,' answered Mary proudly. 'Often I can ease him, or warm +his poor cold hands, or soothe him till he sleeps again, for he grows +weaker after this long imprisonment.' + +'Small wonder,' replied her aunt. 'If thou hadst seen the dungeon +where they set him first--foul, beneath the floor, with no window, +only a grating overhead to give him air. There were a dozen or more +felons and murderers packed in it too, along with him, so that he had +not enough room even to lie down. But there--it is not fit for a child +like thee to know the half of all he hath undergone in the cause of +Truth.' + +'Dear, dear grandfather,' said Mary wistfully, 'yet he never +complains. He says always that he "doth esteem the locks and bolts as +jewels," since he doth endure them for his Master's sake.' + +'Ay, and what was his crime for which he suffered at first in that +foul place? Nothing but his giving of thanks one night after supper at +an inn. His accusers must needs affirm this to be "preaching at a +conventicle." Hist! we had better be silent now we have reached the +town. I must leave thee at the gate of the gaol, and go on my way, +while thou goest thine. Be sure and say to my dear father that I and +thy mother will visit him as soon as ever the Governor shall permit.' + +A few minutes later they stopped; Joan Dewsbury took the basket from +her arm and gave it to her niece. 'Farewell, dear child,' she said +cheerily, as the porter opened the tall portal of the prison; but her +eyes grew dim as she watched the small figure disappear behind the +heavy bolts and bars. + +'She is a good maid, and a brave one,' she said to herself as she +passed down the street between the timbered houses to her home. 'Yet +she is not as other children are. For all the comfort she is to my +dear father, I would fain think of her safe once more at home with her +sisters. Right glad I am that her mother hath sent me word by a sure +hand to say she cometh speedily to see of her condition for herself. +The Governor is right, the gaol is no place for a child, nor is it the +life for her either. She liveth too much in her own thoughts. This +morn on our walk to the farm when I asked her wherefore she seemed +sorrowful, she replied that she was "troubled in her conscience, that +she thought she would not live long and wanted satisfaction from the +Lord as to whither her soul would go if she were to die." Yet she +sprang after those flowers as gaily as her sisters, and she saith +always that she is well. If only she may keep as she is until her +mother shall come.' + +Shaking her head, and full of anxious thoughts, the kind woman pursued +her homeward way. Over the cobble-stones and between the timbered +houses with their steep gables and high-thatched roofs, she passed +through the city until she came to her own small dwelling, William +Dewsbury's home, where his daughter lived alone, and awaited his +return. + + +II + +Have you ever seen a ray of golden sunshine steal in through the thick +blinds, heavy shutters and close curtains that try to shut it out? +People may pull down the blinds and shut the shutters and draw the +curtains, and do their very best to keep the sunshine away. Yet, +sooner or later, a ray always manages to get in somehow. It dances +through a chink here or a hole there, or steals along the floor, till +at last it arrives, a radiant messenger, in the darkened room to say +that a whole world of light is waiting outside. + +In spite of her sombre garments, Mary Samm was like such a ray of +sunshine as she stole into Warwick prison. No doors, bolts or bars +could keep her out; and the gaoler seemed to know it, as he preceded +her down the damp, dark, stone passages: the walls and floor oozing +moisture, and the ceiling blackened by the smoke of many candles. The +prisons of England were all foul, ill-smelling, fever-haunted places +at that time; and hardly any of them was worse than Warwick gaol. + +William Dewsbury had earned the esteem of his keepers during his +successive imprisonments which lasted altogether for nearly nineteen +years. He was privileged now to lie away from the other criminals, who +were herded together in the main building. He had been given a small +apartment that looked towards the river on the far side of a +courtyard, called the sergeants' ward. There was even a pump in the +centre of this courtyard from whence his granddaughter might fetch him +water daily, and the old man and the child were now privileged to take +exercise together in the fresh air;--a great solace in the weary +monotony of prison life. The gaoler unlocked the door of this +sergeants' ward, and then, putting into Mary's hand the key of her +grandfather's apartment, he retraced his steps to the outer gate. Mary +sped across the cobble-stones of the courtyard with joyful haste, +unlocked the door, set down her baskets carefully, the big one first, +the little one after it, and then, 'Grandfather, dear Grandfather,' +she exclaimed, 'tell me, am I late? Hast thou missed thy little prison +maid?' + +The white-haired man, who was writing at a rough oak table, lifted his +head as she entered. His face was worn and haggard; his eyes were +sunken, but the smile that overspread his countenance, as he saw who +had entered, was as bright as little Mary's own. Laying down his pen +and pushing the papers from him, he held out his arms, and in another +minute his granddaughter was clasped in his embrace. + +It would be hard to say which of the two was the happier as she placed +the precious windflowers in his thin, blue-veined hand and told him +all she had seen and done. Joan's messages were given; and then, 'But +what hast thou been doing, dear Grandfather?' Mary asked in her turn. +'Hast thou been writing yet another Epistle to Friends to encourage +them to stand firm? I see thy name very clear and bold at the foot: +"William Dewsbury." I love thy name, Grandfather! It reminds me of our +summer flowers and berries at home in Bedfordshire and of the heavy +dews that fall on them. Thy name is as good as a garden, Grandfather, +in itself.' + +'It is thou who shouldst be in a garden thyself, my little Mary,' +William Dewsbury answered sorrowfully. 'It is sad to bring thee back +within these gloomy walls, a maid like thee.' + +'Nay, Grandfather, it is not sad! Thou promised me that thou wouldst +never say that again! My work was shewn me plainly; that I was to come +and care for thee, and fetch thee thy provisions. It is full early yet +for supper, although the light is fading; canst thou not tell me a +little tale while I sit on thy knee? Afterwards we will eat our meal, +and then thou wilt tell me more stories yet, more and more, to shorten +the dark hours till the stars are shining brightly and it is time to +go to rest.' + +'Thou hast heard most of my tales so often, dear Granddaughter, as we +sit here these dark evenings, that thou dost almost know them better +than I myself,' the old man replied. + +'Yea, truly, I know them well,' answered Mary. 'Yet I am never weary +of hearing of thy own life long ago. Tell me once more how thou wast +brought off from being a soldier, and established in the path of +peace.' + +'Thou must have that tale well nigh by heart already, dear lamb,' the +old man answered. 'Many a time I have told thee of my early days among +the flocks, how I was a shepherd lad until I came to thine own age of +twelve years. Thereafter, when I was thirteen years old, I was bound +an apprentice to a clothmaker in a town called Holdbeck, near Leeds. +He was a godly man and strict, but sharp of tongue. I might have +continued in that town to this day. But when I was fully come to man's +estate the Civil War between King and Parliament broke out all over +the land. Loath was I to take up arms, having been ever of a peaceable +disposition, but when wise men, whom I revered, called upon me to +fight for the civil and religious freedom of my native land, it seemed +to me, in my dark ignorance of soul, that no other course remained +honourably open to me. I feared if I did not join the Army of the +Parliament that had sworn to curb the tyranny of Charles Stuart, then +upon my head would rest the curse of Meroz, "who went not to the help +of the Lord against the mighty." Thus I became a soldier, thinking +that by so doing I was fighting for the Gospel--and forgetting that my +Master was One who was called the Prince of Peace. + +'Small peace, in truth, did I find in the ranks of the army of the +Parliament--or indeed in any other place, until in the fulness of time +it was made clear to me that I was but seeking the living amongst the +dead, and looking without for that which was only to be found within. + +'Then my mind was turned within, by the power of the Lord, to wait on +His counsel, the Light in my own conscience, to hear what the Lord +would say: and the word of the Lord came unto me, and said, "Put up +thy sword into thy scabbard.... Knowest thou not that if I need I +could have twelve legions of Angels from my Father": which Word +enlightened my heart, and discovered the mystery of iniquity, and that +the Kingdom of Christ was within, and was spiritual, and my weapons +against them must be spiritual, the Power of God. + +'It was on this wise that I came to join the Army of the Lamb, and of +His peaceful servants who follow Him whithersoever He goeth.' + +'But, Grandfather, explain to me, how couldst thou leave the +Parliamentary army thou wert pledged to serve?' + +'A hard struggle I had truly to get free. Yet I did leave it, for I +was yet more deeply pledged to Him Who had said, "My kingdom is not of +this world: if my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants +fight." At length my way was made more plain before me. I left the +army and resumed my weaving. Thus I passed through deep baptizings of +the Holy Ghost and of fire,--baptisms too deep for a child like thee +to understand how they affected my soul.' + +Mary nodded her head gently and said to herself, 'Perhaps I can +understand already, better than my grandfather thinks. Have I not +twice already in my young years been brought nigh to death? Even now +death seemeth to me often not far away.' + +'Wouldst thou then fear to die, Grandfather?' she added aloud. + +'No more than a bird would fear to leave its cage and fly, were once +the door but open,' the old man answered. 'But the door is still +securely fastened for me, it seems; and since I had thee, my little +bird, to share my captivity I am no longer anxious to leave my cage. I +was younger by four years than thou art now, my child, when I lost my +fear of the grave. It was on this wise. I was but a little lad of +eight years old, mourning and weeping for the loss of my dear father, +who had been taken from us. As the tears streamed down my cheeks, +methought I heard a Voice saying: "Weep for thyself; thy father is +well." Never since that day, Mary child, have I doubted for one moment +that for those who go hence in peace, it is well indeed.' + +'Dear Grandfather, there is a sad sound in thy voice,' said little +Mary. 'It is too dark by this time to see thy face, but I cannot let +thee be sad. How shall I cheer thee? Ah! I know! how could I have +forgotten? My aunt charged me to say she hath news by a sure hand that +my dear mother may be coming hither to visit thee and me before many +days are over.' + +'My daughter Mary is ever welcome,' said the old man dreamily, 'and in +the darkness thy voice is so like to hers, I could almost deem she +herself was sitting by my side. Already the young moon has disappeared +behind the battlements of the castle. Yet I need not her silver light +to tell me that thy hair is softer and straighter than thy mother's, +and without the golden lights and twining curls that hers had when she +was thy age.' + +'The moon truly has left us, Grandfather,' Mary interrupted, springing +from his knee. 'Yet what matters the darkness while we are close +together? I can still see to get thy supper ready for thee. Thou must +eat first, and then we will talk further, until it is time to go to +rest.' + +Deftly the little prison maid moved about the bare cell, drawing her +grandfather's chair to the rough oak table. On this she arranged the +loaf of bread and bottle of milk from her basket, setting them and the +earthenware mugs and platters out on the white cloth, to look as +home-like as possible. The anemones in the centre still glimmered +faintly as if shining by their own light. The simple meal was a very +happy one. When it was finished and the remains had been cleared away +and carefully replaced in the basket for to-morrow's needs, the stars +were looking in through the prison bars. + +'Now, one more story, Grandfather,' said Mary firmly, 'just one, +before we go to rest.' + +'I love to see thy small white face shining up at me through the +gloom,' the old man answered. 'I will tell thee of my first meeting +with George Fox. Hast thou ever heard that story?' + +The little prison maid was far too wary to reply directly. + +'Tell it to me now, Grandfather,' she replied evasively, and then, to +turn the old man's thoughts in the right direction, 'thou hadst +already left the army by that time?' she hazarded. + +'Ay, that I had,' answered Dewsbury. 'I had left it for several years, +and a measure of Truth I had found for myself. Greatly I longed to +proclaim it and to share my new-found happiness with others. But the +inward Voice spoke to me clearly and said: "Keep thee silent for six +full years, until the year 1652 shall have come. Then shalt thou find +more hungering and thirsting among the people than at the present +time." So "I kept silence even from good words, though it was pain and +grief to me." Thou knowest, Mary, even while I was yet in the army, +many and deep exercisings had I had in my spirit, and such were still +my portion at times. About this time, by the providence of God, I +chanced to hear of a young woman living in the city of York, who was +going through a like season of sorrow and anguish regarding her +immortal soul. After due deliberation, I found it in my heart to pay +her a visit. I did this and went on foot to York. When I came into her +presence, at once we were made aware of each other's conditions. No +sooner did we begin to converse than we found ourselves joined +together in deep unity of spirit. Her spiritual exercises answered +unto mine own, as in water face answereth to face. Dost thou +understand, child, of what I am speaking?' + +'I follow not thy language always with entire comprehension, dear +Grandfather,' answered Mary with her usual precise honesty of speech, +'but it appears to me thy meaning is clear. I think that this young +woman must likely have been my grandmother?' + +William Dewsbury smiled. 'Thou art right,' he said, 'it was to be even +so, in the fulness of time; that, however, was long after. Almost at +once we became man and wife. There seemed no need to settle that +between us. It had been settled for us by Him who brought us together. +We knew it from the first moment that we saw each the other's face. +Thy grandmother had in a measure joined herself unto the Anabaptists, +therefore 'twas at one of their meetings that we were wed. The power +of the Spirit was an astonishment unto them, and I have heard it said +that never hath the Divine Presence been more felt in any assembly +than it was that day. Thy grandmother resembled thee, my Mary, as thou +wilt be when thou art a woman grown--when thou shalt be taller and +rounder, and less slim and spare. Her eyes were darker than thine, and +she had the same soft brown hair as thine, but with thy mother's +golden threads in it, my Ann! Before she became my wife, she had been +blessed with a plenty of this world's goods, but no sooner were we wed +than her brother unjustly deprived her of her property. For myself, I +cared not. Now that she was safely mine own, he was welcome to the +land that should have been hers by right. Yet for her sake I strove to +get it back, but in vain. Then did the enemy of souls reproach me for +having brought her, whom I tenderly loved, into a state of poverty. In +humiliation and lowliness of mind before the Lord, without yielding to +the tempter, I desired Him to make me content to be what He would have +me to be; and, in a moment, I was so filled with the presence of the +Lord, that I was not able to bear the weight of the glory that was +upon me. I desired the Lord, if He had any service for me to do, to +withdraw, for I could not live; then I heard as it were a Voice say to +me, "Thou art Mine, all in heaven and earth is Mine, and it is thine +in Me; what I see good I will give unto thee, and unto thy wife and +children."' + +'Poor Grandfather, that was a hard pass for thee,' murmured Mary, +smoothing the old man's coat sleeve. 'But did not a great joy follow +close upon thy trouble?' she prompted, 'a great joy on a moonshine +night, not a dark one like this?' + +William Dewsbury's countenance kindled with fresh life and vigour. +'Yea, my child,' he answered, 'light did indeed illuminate us on that +same moonshine night of which thou speakest, when we went, my Ann and +I, to Lieutenant Roper's house to hear the Stranger preach. All our +lives we had both been seeking, but now by the Power of the Lord, the +time was come for us to find. We went to hear a Stranger. But no +stranger was George Fox. Rather did we recognise him, from the first +moment of that meeting, as the own brother of our souls. Up and down +the length and breadth of the land I had journeyed, seeking for +deliverance and for truth. Now, in my own county of Yorkshire, my +deliverer was found. It was not alone the words he spake, though they +were forcible and convincing, much more it was the irresistible Power +of the Lord breathing through him that brought us to our knees. All +men could see as they looked upon his goodly form, not then marred by +cruel imprisonments and sufferings, that he was a man among ten +thousand. But to me he was also a chosen vessel of the Lord; for power +spoke through him, yea, to my very heart. I have told thee, Mary, of +my long searchings after truth, and of those of my dear wife. There +was no need to mention one of them to George. With the first words he +spake it was clear to me that he knew them all, he could read our +necessities like an open book. Well hath it been said of him that "he +was a man of God endued with a clear and wonderful depth; a discerner +of other men's spirits, and very much a master of his own." Our hearts +clave unto him at once. We could scarcely restrain ourselves until the +meeting should be at an end, to disclose our inmost souls unto him. +Then at last, when all the multitude had departed, we watched Friend +George set out on his homeward way. We followed him in all haste, my +Ann and I, until we came up with him in a lonely field. The moon shone +full on his face and on our seeking faces, revealing us to each other. +At first he gazed on us as if we were strangers. For all we had longed +ardently to tell him, we found no words. Only a long time we stood +together silently, we three, with the dumb kine slumbering around us +in the dewy meadows; we three, revealed to one another in the full +light. Then at last we confessed to the Truth before him, and from him +we received Truth again. There is no Scripture to warrant the +sprinkling of a few drops of water on the face of a child and calling +that Baptism; but there is a Scripture for being baptized with the +Holy Ghost and with fire. That true essential Baptism did our spirits +receive in very deed that night from God's own minister of His +Everlasting Gospel. + +'Thus, then and there, were we three knit together in soul; and the +Lord's Power was over all.' + +The old man's voice died away into silence. His thoughts were far off +in the past. The loneliness of the prison was forgotten, little Mary +knew that her evening's task was done. Very gently she flitted from +his side, arranged his bed for the night, and then slipped, +noiselessly as a shadow, into her little inner cell, scarcely larger +than a cupboard. Here she undressed in the darkness and laid herself +down on her little straw pallet on the floor. But she had brought the +precious windflowers with her. 'They are so white, they will be like +company through the dark night hours,' she said to herself, placing +the glass close to her bed. Presently, through a tiny slit of window +high up in the prison wall, one sentinel star looked down into the +narrow cell. It peeped in upon a small white figure straight and slim +amid the surrounding blackness of the cell, with 'dear, long, lean, +little arms lying out on the counterpane'; but Mary's eyes were wide +open, her ears were listening intently for her grandfather's softest +call. + +Gradually the ray of starlight crept up the prison wall and +disappeared; soon other stars one by one looked in at the narrow +window and passed upwards also on their high steep pathways; gradually +the eyelids closed, and the long dark lashes lay upon the white +cheeks. Drowsily little Mary thought to herself, 'I am glad my mother +will soon be here, but it hath been a very happy evening. Truly I am +glad I came to help dear grandfather, and to be his little prison +maid.' + +Only one starry white windflower, clasped tight in her fingers through +the long night hours, gradually drooped and died. + + + + +XXII. AN UNDISTURBED MEETING + + + + + _'It was impossible to ignore the + Quaker because he would not be + ignored. If you close his + meeting-house he holds it in the + street; if you stone him out of + the city in the evening, he is + there in the morning with his + bleeding wounds still upon him.... + You may break the earthen vessel, + but the spirit is invincible and + that you cannot kill.'--JOHN + WILHELM ROWNTREE._ + + + _'Interior calmness means interior + and exterior strength.'--J. RENDEL + HARRIS._ + + + _'Be nothing terrified at their + threats of banishment, for they + cannot banish you from the coasts + and sanctuary of the Living + God.'--MARGARET FOX._ + + + _'Grant us grace to rest from all + sinful deeds and thoughts, to + surrender ourselves wholly unto + Thee, to keep our souls still + before Thee like a still lake; + that so the beams of Thy love may + be mirrored therein, and may + kindle in our hearts the beams of + faith, and love, and prayer. May + we, through such stillness and + hope, find strength and gladness + in Thee O God, now, and for + evermore.'--JOACHIM EMBDEN, 1595._ + + + _'For the soul that is close to GOD_ + _In the folded wings of prayer,_ + _Passion no more can vex,_ + _Infinite peace is there.'_ + _EDWIN HATCH._ + + + + +XXII. AN UNDISTURBED MEETING + + +Quiet and lonely now stands the small old farmhouse of Drawwell, on +the sunny slope of a hill, under the shadow of the great fells. To +this day the old draw-well behind the house, which gives its name to +the homestead, continues to yield its refreshing draught of pure cold +water. 'It is generally full, even in times of drought, and never +overflows.'[32] To this day, also, the 'living water,' drawn in many a +'mighty Meeting' held around that well in the early years of +Quakerism, continues to refresh thirsty souls. + + * * * * * + +It was to Drawwell Farm that George Fox came with his hosts Thomas and +John Blaykling, on Whitsun Wednesday evening in June 1652, at the end +of Sedbergh Fair. From Drawwell he accompanied them to Firbank Chapel, +the following Sunday forenoon. There, high up on the opposite fell, he +was moved, as he says in his Journal, to 'sit down upon the rock on +the mountain' and 'discourse to over a thousand people, amongst whom I +declared God's everlasting Truth and word of life freely and largely, +for about the space of three hours, whereby many were convinced.' + +More than once in after days, George Fox returned again thankfully to +Drawwell, seeking and finding rest and refreshment for soul and body +under its hospitable, low, stone roof, as he went up and down on +those endless journeys of his, throughout the length and breadth of +England, whereby he 'kept himself in a perpetual motion, begetting +souls unto God.' + +Many hallowed memories cling about Drawwell Farm,--as closely as the +silvery mist clings to every nook and cranny of its walls in damp +weather,--but none more vivid than that of the Undisturbed Meeting of +1665. + +George Fox was not present that day. His open-air wanderings, and his +visits to the home under the great fells were alike at an end for a +time, while in the narrow prison cells of Lancaster and Scarborough he +was bearing witness, after a different fashion, to the freedom of the +Spirit of the Lord. George Fox was not among the guests at Drawwell. +No 'mighty Meeting,' as often at other times, was gathered there that +day. There was only a company of humble men and women seated on forms +and chairs under the black oak rafters of the big barn that adjoins +the house, since the living-room was not spacious enough to hold them +all with ease, although their numbers were not much above a score. + +The Master and Mistress of Drawwell were present of course. Good +Farmer Blaykling, with his ever ready courtesy and kindness, looked +older now than on the day, thirteen years before, when he and his +father had brought the young preacher back with them from the Fair. He +himself had known latterly what it was to suffer 'for Truth's sake,' +as some extra furrows on his brow had testified plainly since the day +when 'Priest John Burton of Sedbergh beat John Blaykling and pulled +him by the hair off his seat in his high place.' Happily that outbreak +had passed over, and all seemed quiet this Sunday morning, as he took +his place in the big barn. His wife sat by his side; around them were +their children (none of them young), the farm lads and lasses, and +several families of neighbouring Friends. But it chanced that the +youngest person present, one of the farm lasses, was well into her +teens. + +'Surely it was the loving-kindness of the Lord' (motherly Mistress +Blaykling was wont to testify in after years) 'that brought the ordeal +only upon us, grown men and women, and not upon any tender babes.' The +Meeting began, much like any other Meeting in that peaceful country, +where Friends ever loved to gather under the shadow of the hills and +the yet mightier overshadowing of the Spirit of God. The Dove of Peace +brooded over the company. Even as the unseen water bubbled in the dark +depths of the old draw-well close by, so, in the deep stillness, +already some hearts were becoming conscious of-- + + 'The bubbling of the hidden springs, + That feed the world.' + +Soon, out of the living Silence would have been born the fresh gift of +living speech.... + +When suddenly, into all this peace, there came the clattering of +horses' hoofs along the stony road that leads to the farm, followed by +loud voices and a pistol shot, as a body of troopers trotted right up +to the homestead. Finding that deserted and receiving no answers to +their shouts, they proceeded to the barn itself in search of the +assembled Friends. The officer in charge was a young Ensign, Lawrence +Hodgson, a very gay gentleman indeed, a gentleman of the Restoration, +when not only courtiers but soldiers too, knew well what it was to be +courtly. + +He came from Dent, 'with other officers of the militia and soldiers.' +Now Dent was a place of importance, in those days, and looked down on +even Sedbergh as a mere village. Wherefore to be sent off to a small +farm in the outskirts of Sedbergh in search of a nest of Quakers was a +paltry job at best for these fine gentlemen from Dent. Naturally, they +set about it, cursing and swearing with a will, to shew what brave +fellows they were. For here were all these Quakers whom they had been +sent to harry, brazening out their crime in the full light of day. By +Act of Parliament it had been declared, not so long ago either, that +any Quakers who 'assembled to the number of five or more persons at +any one time, and in any one place, under pretence of joining in a +religious worship not authorised by law, were, on conviction, to +suffer merely fines or imprisonment for their first and second +offences, but for the third, they were to be liable to be transported +to any of His Majesty's plantations beyond seas.' A serious penalty +this, in those days second only to death itself, and a terror to the +most hardened of the soldiery; but here was a handful of humble +farmfolk, deliberately daring such a punishment unafraid. + +'Stiff-necked Quakers--you shall answer for this,' shouted Ensign +Hodgson as he entered 'cursing and swearing' (so says the old account) +'and threatening that if Friends would not depart and disperse he +would kill them and slay and what not.' 'You look like hardened +offenders, all of you, and I doubt this is not a first offence.' So +saying, the Ensign set spurs to his horse and rode up and down the +barn, overturning forms and chairs, slashing at the women Friends +with the flat of his sword, while some of the roughest of his +followers poked the sharp points of their blades through the coats of +the men, 'just to remind you, Quaker dogs, of what we could do, an' we +chose.' + +Amid all this noise and hurly-burly, the men and women Friends sat on +in stillness as long as possible. Only when their seats were actually +overturned, they rose to their feet and stood upright in their places. +They were ready to be beaten or trampled upon, if necessary; but they +would not, of their own will, quit their ground. Strangely enough, the +wives did not rush to their husbands or cling to them; the men did not +seek to protect the women-folk. They all remained, even the lads and +lasses, self-poised as it were, one company still; resting, as long as +they could, quietly, in the inward citadel of peace. In spite of all +the hubbub, the true spirit of worship was not disturbed. + +At last the soldiers, determined not to be baffled, came to yet closer +quarters and drove their unresisting victims, willy nilly, before them +from under the sheltering rafters of the barn. The Friends were +roughly hustled down the steep hillside and driven hither and thither, +but still the meeting was not interrupted, for their hearts could not +be driven out from the overshadowing presence of God. + +So the great fells looked down upon a strange scene a few minutes +later,--a strange scene, yet one all too common in those days. A +cavalcade of glittering horsemen with their flowing perukes, ruffles, +gay coats, plumed hats, and all the extravagances of the costume of +even the fighting man of 'good King Charles's golden days.' In the +centre of this gay throng, a little company of Friends in their plain +garments of homespun and duffel, moving along, with sober faces and +downcast eyes, speaking never a word as their captors prepared to +force them to their destination--the Justice's house at Ingmire Hall +near Sedbergh. + +Now from Drawwell Farm to Ingmire is some little distance. The way is +hilly, and the roads are narrow and rough. Bad going it is on those +roads even to-day, and far worse in the times of which I write. +Therefore the troopers quickly grew weary of their task, weary of +trying to rein in their mettlesome horses to keep pace with the slow +steps of their prisoners, weary, too, of even the sport of pricking at +these last with their swords, to try to make them go faster. + +They had barely reached the bottom of the slope when Ensign Hodgson, +ever a restless youth, lost patience. As soon as he found his horse on +a bit of level road, he called to his men, 'Halloo! here's our chance +for a canter!--We'll leave the Lambs to follow us to the +slaughter-house at their own sweet will.' Then, seeing mingled relief +and consternation on the men's faces, he slapped his thighs with a +loud laugh and said: 'Ye silly fellows, have no fear! No Quaker ever +yet tried to escape from gaol, nor ever will. We can trust them to +follow us in our absence as well as if we were here to drive them. +Quakers haven't the wit to seek after their own safety.' + +The audacity of the plan tickled the troopers. Following Hodgson's +example, they, one and all, raised their plumed hats and, rising high +in their stirrups, bowed with mock courtesy, as they took leave of +their prisoners. + +'Farewell, sweet Lambkins,' called out the Ensign, 'hasten your Quaker +pace and meet us at the slaughter-house at Ingmire Hall as fast as you +can, OR' ... he cocked his pistol at them, and then, dashing it up, +fired a shot into the air. With wild shouting and laughter the whole +troop disappeared round a turn of the road. 'To Sedbergh,' they cried, +'to Sedbergh first! Plenty of time for a carouse, and yet to arrive at +Ingmire Hall as soon as the Lambs!' + +Arriving in Sedbergh at a canter they slackened rein at a tavern and +refreshed themselves with a draught of ale and an hour's carouse, +before setting off to meet their prisoners at the Justice's house. + +When they arrived at Ingmire Hall, to their dismay, not a Quaker was +in sight. Sending his men off to scour the roads, Ensign Hodgson +himself dismounted with an oath on Justice Otway's doorstep, and went +within to inquire if the Quakers from Drawwell had yet arrived. + +'The Quakers, WHOM YOU WERE SENT TO FETCH from Drawwell and for whose +non-appearance you are yourself wholly responsible, HAVE NOT ARRIVED,' +answered the Justice tartly, raising his eyebrows as if to emphasise +his words. All men knew that good Sir John Otway was no friend to +persecution; and gay Lawrence Hodgson was no favourite of his. + +With a louder oath than that with which he had entered the house, the +Ensign flung out of it again, and rode off at the head of his men--all +of them discomfited by their vain search, for not a Quaker was to be +seen in the neighbourhood. The 'Lambs' were less docile than had been +supposed. After all, they had successfully managed to avoid the +'slaughter-house'; they must have retreated to Drawwell, if they had +not even seized the opportunity to escape. + +Back again along the road to Drawwell, therefore, the whole sulky +company of horsemen were obliged to return, much out of humour. +Cursing their leader's carelessness, as he doubtless cursed his own +folly, they trotted along, gloomily enough, till they came to the bend +of the road where the homestead comes in sight, and where they had +taken leave of their prisoners. There, as they turned the corner, +suddenly they all stopped, thunderstruck, pulling their horses back on +to their haunches in their amazement. + +The Lambs had not escaped! Though they had not followed meekly to the +slaughter-house, at least they had made no endeavours to flee, or even +to return to the sheepfold on the hillside above them. All the time +that the soldiers had been carousing in the alehouse, or searching the +lanes, the little company of Friends had remained in the very same +spot where the soldiers had left them nearly two hours before. + +And there they were still, every one of them;--sitting on the green, +grassy bank by the wayside. There they were, quietly going on with +their uninterrupted worship. Yes; out there, under the shadow of the +everlasting hills, untroubled by the shadow of even a passing cloud of +fear, the Friends calmly continued to wait upon God. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[32] This paragraph is taken from E.E. Taylor's description of +Drawwell. + + + + +XXIII. BUTTERFLIES IN THE FELLS + + + + + _'My concern for God and His holy, + eternal truth was then in the + North, where God had placed and + set me.'--MARGARET FOX._ + + + _'I should be glad if thou would + incline to come home, that thou + might get a little Rest, methinks + its the most comfortable when one + has a home to be there, but the + Lord give us patience to bear all + things'--M. FOX to G. Fox, 1681._ + + + _'I did not stir much abroad + during the time I now stayed in + the North; but when Friends were + not with me spent pretty much time + in writing books and papers for + Truth's service.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'All dear Friends press forward + in the straight way.'--JOHN AUDLAND._ + + + _'Is not liberty of conscience in + religion a fundamental?... Liberty + of conscience is a natural right, + and he that would have it, ought to + give it, having liberty to settle + what he likes for the public.... + This I say is fundamental: it ought + to be so. It is for us and the + generations to come.'--OLIVER + CROMWELL._ + + + + +XXIII. BUTTERFLIES IN THE FELLS + + +Above all other Saints in the Calendar, the good people of +Newcastle-upon-Tyne do hold in highest honour Saint Nicholas, since to +him is dedicated the stately Church that is the pride and glory of +their town. Everyone who dwells in the bonnie North Countrie knows +well that shrine of Saint Nicholas, set on high on the steep northern +bank of the River Tyne. Beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole +North, is St. Nicholas. Therefore, in olden times, one Roger Thornton, +a wealthy merchant of the town, saw fit to embellish it yet further +with a window at the Eastern end, of glass stained with colours +marvellous to behold. Men said indeed that Merchant Roger clearly owed +that window to the Saint, seeing that when he first entered the town +scarce a dozen years before, he came but as a poor pedlar, possessed +of naught but 'a hap, a halfpenny, and a lambskin,' whereas these few +years spent under the shadow of the Saint's protection had made him +already a man of great estate. + +Roger Thornton it was who gave the Eastern window to the Church, but +none know now, for certain, who first embellished the shrine with its +crowning gift, the tall steeple that gathers to itself not only the +affection of all those who dwell beneath its shadow, but also their +glory and their pride. Some believe it was built by King David of +Scotland: others by one Robert de Rede, since his name may still be +seen carven upon the stone by him who has skill to look. But in truth +the architect hath carried both his name and his secret with him, and +the craftsmen of many another larger and more famous city have sought +in vain to build such another tower. By London Bridge and again at +Edinburgh, in the capitals of two fair kingdoms, may indeed be seen a +steeple built in like fashion, but far less fair. One man alone, he +whose very name hath been forgotten, hath known how to swing with +perfect grace a pinnacled Crown, formed of stone yet delicate as +lacework, aloft in highest air. Therefore to this day doth the Lantern +Tower of St. Nicholas remain without a peer. + +A Lantern Tower the learned call it, and indeed the semblance of an +open lantern doth rise, supported by pinnacles, in the centre of the +Tower; but to most men it resembles less a lantern than an Imperial +crown swung high in air, under a canopy of dazzling blue. It is a +golden crown in the daytime, as it shines on high above the hum of the +city streets in the clear mid-day light. It becomes a fiery crown when +the sun sets, for then the golden fleurs-de-lys on each of the eight +golden vanes atop of the pinnacles gleam and glow like sparks of +flame, climbing higher and ever higher into the steep and burnished +air. But it is a jewelled crown that shines by night over the +slumbering town beneath; for then the turrets and pinnacles are gemmed +with glittering stars. + +That Tower, to those who have been born under it, is one of the +dearest things upon this earth. Judge then of the dismay that was +caused to every man, woman, and child, when Newcastle was being +besieged by the Scottish army during the Civil Wars, at the message +that came from the general of the beleaguering army, that were the +town not surrendered to him without delay, he would train his guns on +the Tower of St. Nicholas itself, and lay that first in ruins. Happily +Sir John Marley, the English Commander, who was likewise Mayor of the +Town, was more than a match for the canny Scot. And this was the +answer that the gallant Sir John sent back from the beleaguered town: +that General Leslie might train his guns on the Tower and welcome, if +such were his pleasure, but if he did so, before he brought down one +single stone of it, he would be obliged to take the lives of his own +Scottish prisoners, whom the guns would find as their first target +there. + +Sir John was as good as his word. The Scottish prisoners were strung +out in companies along the Tower ledges, and kept there day after day, +till the Scottish Army had retreated, baffled for that time, and St. +Nicholas was saved. Therefore, thanks to Sir John Marley and his +nimble wit, the pinnacled Crown still soars up aloft into the sky, +keeping guard over the city of Newcastle to-day, as it hath done +throughout the centuries. + + * * * * * + +Little did the Friends, who came to Newcastle a few years after the +Scotsmen had departed, regard the beauty of St. Nicholas or its Tower. +They came also desiring to besiege the town, though with only +spiritual weapons. The Church to them was but a 'steeple-house,' and +the Tower akin to an idol. Thus slowly do men learn that 'the ways +unto God are as the number of the souls of the children of men,' and +that wherever a man truly seeketh God in whatsoever fashion, so he do +but seek honestly and with his whole heart, God will consent to be +found of him. + +Yet though the Friends who came to Newcastle came truly to besiege the +town for love's sake, not with love did the town receive them. +'Ruddy-faced John Audland' was the first to come, he who had been one +of the preachers that memorable Sunday at Firbank Chapel, and who, +having yielded place to George Fox, had been in his turn mightily +convinced of Truth. 'A man beloved of God, and of all good men,' was +John Audland, 'of an exceedingly sweet disposition, unspeakably loving +and tenderly affectionate, always ready to lend a helping hand to the +weak and needy, open-hearted, free and near to his friends, deep in +the understanding of the heavenly mysteries.' Yet little all this +availed him. In Newcastle as elsewhere he preached the Truth, 'full of +dread and shining brightness on his countenance.' Certain of the +townsfolk gathered themselves unto him and became Friends, but the +authorities would have none of the new doctrine, and straightway +clapped him into gaol. There he lay for a time, till at last he was +set free and went his way. + +After him came George Fox, when some thirteen years had gone by since +Sir John Marley saved the Tower, and General Leslie had returned +discomfited to Edinburgh. From Edinburgh, too, George Fox had come on +his homeward way after that eventful journey to the Northern Kingdom, +when 'the infinite sparks of life sparkled about him as soon as his +horse set foot across the Border.' Weary he was of riding when he +reached the gates of Newcastle-upon-Tyne. Yet 'gladded' in his heart +was he, for as he had passed by Berwick-upon-Tweed, the Governor there +had 'shewn himself loving towards Friends,' and, though only a little +Meeting had been gathered, 'the Lord's power had been over all.' As +Fox and his companion rode through the woods and beside the yellow +brown streams and over the heathery moors of Northumberland, they +found and visited many scattered Friends whose welcome had made George +Fox's heart rejoice. But no sooner had he entered the town than all +his gladness left him, at the grievous tale the faithful Friends of +Newcastle had to tell. Ever since John Audland's preaching had stirred +the souls of the townsfolk, the priests and professors had done their +best to prevent 'this pernicious poison from spreading.' Five +Newcastle priests had written a book, entitled 'the Perfect Pharisee +under Monkish Holiness,' in which they blamed Friends for many things, +but above all for their custom of preaching in the streets and open +places. 'It is a pestilent heresy at best,' they said (though they +used not these very words), 'yet did they keep it to themselves 'twere +no great harm, but we find no place hears so much of Friends' religion +as streets and market-places.' + +Yet even so their witness agreed not together. For while the priests +accused Friends of too much preaching in public, a certain Alderman of +the city, Thomas Ledger by name, put forth three other books against +them. And his main charge was this--'THAT THE QUAKERS WOULD NOT COME +INTO ANY GREAT TOWNS, BUT LIVED IN THE FELLS LIKE BUTTERFLIES.' + +George Fox, hearing these things from the Friends assembled to greet +him at the entrance to the town, was tried in his spirit, and +determined that the matter should be dealt with, without more ado. The +Journal saith: 'The Newcastle priests wrote many books against us, +and one Ledger, an Alderman of the town, was very envious of truth and +friends. He and the priests had said, "the Quakers would not come into +great towns, but lived in the fells like butterflies." I took Anthony +Pearson with me and went to this Ledger, and several others of the +Aldermen, desiring to have a meeting among them, seeing they had +written so many things against us: for we were now come, I told them, +into their great town. But they would not yield we should have a +meeting, neither would they be spoke with, save only this Ledger and +one other. I queried: "Had they not called Friends Butterflies, and +said we would not come into any great towns? And now they would not +come at us, though they had printed books against us; WHO ARE THE +BUTTERFLIES NOW?" + +'As we could not have a public meeting amongst them we got a little +meeting amongst friends and friendly people at the Gate-side. As I was +passing by the market-side, the power of the Lord rose in me, to warn +them of the day of the Lord that was coming upon them. And not long +after all the priests were turned out of their profession, when the +King came in.' + +Thus did those same envious priests, who had accused Friends of living +like butterflies in the fells, become themselves as butterflies, being +chased out of the great town, and forced to flit to and fro in the +open country. The Friends, meanwhile, increased on both sides of the +river Tyne. In 1657 George Whitehead visited Newcastle, and was kindly +received in the house of one John Dove, who had been a Lieutenant in +the army before he became a Friend. + +Whitehead, himself one of the 'Valiant Sixty,' writes:--'The Mayor of +the town (influenced by the priests), would not suffer us to keep any +meeting within the Liberty of the Town, though in Gate-side (being out +of the Mayor's Liberty), our Friends had settled a meeting at our +beloved Friend Richard Ubank's house.... The first meeting we then +endeavoured to have within the town of Newcastle was in a large room +taken on purpose by some Friends.... The meeting was not fully +gathered when the Mayor of the Town and his Officers came, and by +force turned us out of the meeting; and not only so, but out of the +Town also; for the Mayor and his Company commanded us and went along +with us as far as the Bridge over the river Tine that parts Newcastle +and Gates-head, upon which Bridge there is a Blew Stone to which the +Mayor's Liberty extends; when we came to the stone, the Mayor gave his +charge to each of us in these words: "I charge and command you in the +name of His Highness the Lord Protector. That you come no more into +Newcastle to have any more meetings there at your peril.'" + +The Friends, therefore, continued to meet at the place that is called +Gateside (though some say that Goat's head was the name of it at +first), and there they remained till, after divers persecutions, they +were at length suffered to assemble within the walls of Newcastle +itself, upon the north side of the 'Blew Stone' above the River Tyne. +Here, in 1698, they bought a plot of ground, within a stone's-throw of +St. Nicholas, facing towards the street that the townsmen call Pilgrim +Street, since thither in olden days did many weary pilgrims wend their +way, seeking to come unto the Mound of Jesu on the outskirts of the +town. And that same Mound of Jesu is now called by men, Jesu Mond, or +shorter, Jesmond, and no longer is it the resort of pilgrims, but +rather of merchants and pleasure seekers. Yet still beside the Pilgrim +Street stands the Meeting-House built by those other pilgrim souls, +those Quakers, whom the men of the town in scorn called 'butterflies.' +And there, so far from flitting over the fells, they have continued to +hold their Meetings and worship God after their own fashion within +those walls for more than two hundred years. + + * * * * * + +Before ever this had come to pass, and while the Quakers of Newcastle +were still without an assembling place on their own side of the river, +it happened that a certain man among them, named Robert Jeckel, being +nigh unto death (though as yet he knew it not), was seized with a +vehement desire to behold George Fox yet once more in the flesh, since +full sixteen years had gone by since his visit to the town. + +Wherefore this same Robert Jeckel, hearing that his beloved friend was +now again to be found at Swarthmoor, dwelling there in much seclusion, +seeking to regain the strength that had been sorely wasted in long and +terrible imprisonments,--this man, Robert Jeckel, would no longer be +persuaded or gainsaid, but set out at once with several others, who +were like-minded and desirous to come as speedily as might be to +Swarthmoor. + +In good heart they set forth, but that same day, and before they had +come even as far as unto Hexham, Robert Jeckel was seized with a sore +sickness, whereat his friends entreated him to return the way he came +to his own home and tender wife. But he refused to be dissuaded and +would still press forward. At many other places by the way he was ill +and suffering, yet he would not be satisfied to turn back or to stop +until he should arrive at Swarthmoor. And thither after many days of +sore travel he came. + +The Mistress of Swarthmoor was now no longer Margaret Fell but +Margaret Fox. Eight full years after the death of her honoured +husband, Judge Fell, and after long waiting to be sure that the thing +was from the Lord, she had been united in marriage with her beloved +friend, George Fox, unto whom she was ever a most loving and dutiful +wife. Therefore, when Robert Jeckel arrived with his friends before +the high arched stone gateway that led into the avenue that +approacheth Swarthmoor Hall, it was Mistress Fox, who, with her +husband, came to meet their guests. Close behind followed her youngest +daughter, Rachel Fell, the Seventh Sister of Swarthmoor Hall. She, the +Judge's pet and plaything in her childhood, was now a woman grown. +Seeing by Robert Jeckel's countenance that he was sorely stricken, +Mistress Fox led him straight to the fair guest chamber of Swarthmoor, +where she and her daughter nursed him with their wonted tenderness and +skill, hoping thus, if it might be, to restore him to his home in +peace. But it had been otherwise ordained, for Robert Jeckel, arriving +at Swarthmoor on the second day of the fifth month that men call July, +lay sick there but for nine days and then he died. + +During his illness many and good words did he say, among others these: +'Though I was persuaded to stay by the way (being indisposed), before +I came to this place, yet this was the place where I would have been, +and the place where I should be, whether I live or die.' + +George Fox, being himself, as I say, weakened by his long suffering in +Worcester Gaol, was yet able to visit Robert Jeckel as he lay a-dying, +and exhorted him to offer up his soul and spirit to the Lord, who +gives life and breath to all and takes it again. Whereupon Robert +Jeckel lifted up his hands and said, 'The Lord is worthy of it, and I +have done it.' George Fox then asked him if he could say, 'Thy will, +oh God, be done on earth as it is in heaven,' and he, lifting up his +hands again, and looking upwards with his eyes, answered cheerfully, +'he did it.' + +Then, he in his turn, exhorting those about him, said: 'Dear Friends, +dwell in love and unity together, and keep out of jars, strife, and +contentions, and be sure to continue faithful to the end.' And +speaking of his wife, he said, 'As to my wife, I give her up freely to +the Lord; for she loveth the Lord and He will love her. I have often +told my dear wife, as to what we have of outward things, it was the +Lord's first before it was ours; and in that I desire she may serve +the truth to the end of her days.' + +'In much patience the Lord did keep him, and he was in perfect sense +and memory all the time of his weakness, often saying, "Dear Friends, +give me up and weep not for me, for I am content with the Lord's +doings." And often said that he had no pain, but gradually declined, +often lifting up his hands while he had strength, praising the Lord, +and made a comfortable end on the 11th day of the fifth month, 1676.' + +Thus did the joyful spirit of this dear friend at last take flight +for the Heavenly Country, when, as he said himself in his sickness, +'Soul separated from body, the Spirit returning to God that gave it, +and the body to the earth from whence it came.' + +Yea, verily; his soul took flight for the Heavenly Country, happier in +its escape from the worn chrysalis of his weak and weary body than any +glad-winged butterfly that flitteth over the fells of his own beloved +Northumberland. + + + + +XXIV. THE VICTORY OF AMOR STODDART + + + + + _'From the heart of the Puritan + sects sprang the religion of the + Quakers, in which many a war-worn + soldier of the Commonwealth closed + his visionary eyes.'--G.M. + TREVELYAN._ + + + _'To be a man of war means to live + no longer than the life of the + world, which is perishing; but to + be a man of the Holy Spirit, a man + born of God, a man that wars not + after the flesh, a man of the + Kingdom of God, as well as of + England--that means to live beyond + time and age and men and the + world, to be gathered into that + life which is Eternal.'--JOHN + SALTMARSH, 1647._ + + + _'Keep out of all jangling, for + all that are in the transgression + are out from the law of love; but + all that are in the law of love + come to the Lamb's power.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'He changed his weapons, warfare, + and Captain ... when he 'listed + himself under the banner of + Christ.'--W. PENN, about J. + Whitehead._ + + + _A prayer for the soldier spirit. + 'Teach us, good Lord, to serve Thee + as Thou deservest: to give and not + to count the cost; to fight and not + to heed the wounds; to toil and not + to seek for rest; to labour and not + to ask for any reward, save that of + knowing that we do Thy will: + through Jesus Christ our + Lord.'--IGNATIUS LOYOLA._ + + + + +XXIV. THE VICTORY OF AMOR STODDART + + 'Christ disarmed Peter, and in so doing He unbuckled the sword + of every soldier.' + TERTULLIAN. + + +A dauntless fighter in his day was Captain Amor Stoddart, seeing he +had served in the Parliamentary Army throughout the Civil Wars. In +truth, it was no child's play to command a body of men as tough as +Oliver's famous Ironsides. Therefore Captain Stoddart had doubtless +come through many a bloody struggle, and fought in many a hardly +fought contest during those long wars, before the final victory was +won. + +But now, not a single memory remains of his small individual share in +those + + 'Old unhappy, far-off things, + And battles long ago.' + +His story has come down to us as a staunch comrade and a valiant +fighter, in a different kind of warfare. His victory was won in a +struggle in which all the visible weapons were on the other side; +when, through long years, he had only the armour of meekness and of +love wherewith to oppose hardship and violence and wrong. + +Wherefore, of this fight and of this victory, his own name remains as +a symbol and a sign. Not in vain was he called at his birth 'Amor,' +which, in the Latin tongue signifies 'Love,' as all men know. + +The first meeting between Captain Amor Stoddart and him who was to be +thereafter his spirit's earthly captain in the new strange warfare +that lay before him, happened on this wise. + +In the year 1648, when the long Civil Wars were at last nearing their +close, George Fox visited Mansfield in Nottinghamshire and held a +meeting with the professors (that is to say the Puritans) there. It +was in that same year of 1648, when every day the shadow was drawing +nearer of the fatal scaffold that should be erected within the Palace +at Whitehall the following January. But although that shadow crept +daily nearer, men, for the most part, as yet perceived it not. Fox +himself was at this time still young, as years are counted, being only +twenty-four years of age. Four other summers were yet to pass before +that memorable day when he should climb to the summit of old Pendle +Hill, and, after seeing there the vision of a 'great people to be +gathered,' should begin himself to gather them at Firbank and +Swarthmoor and many another place. + +George, though still young in years, was already possessed not only of +a strange and wonderful presence, but also of a gift to perceive and +to draw the souls of other men, and to knit them to his own. + +'I went again to Mansfield,' he says in his Journal, 'where was a +Great Meeting of professors and people, where I was moved to pray; and +the Lord's power was so great that the house seemed to be shaken. When +I had done, one of the professors said, "It was now as in the days of +the Apostles, when the house was shaken where they were."' + +After Fox had finished praying, with this vehemence that seemed to +shake the house, one of the professors began to pray in his turn, but +in such a dead and formal way that even the other professors were +grieved thereat and rebuked him. Whereupon this praying professor came +in all humility to Fox, beseeching him that he would pray again. +'But,' says Fox, 'I could not pray in any man's will.' Still, though +he could not make a prayer to order, he agreed to meet with these same +professors another day. + +This second meeting was another 'Great Meeting.' From far and wide the +professors and people gathered to see the man who had learnt to pray. +But the professors did not truly seem to care to learn the secret. +They went on talking and arguing together. They were 'jangling,' as +Fox calls it (that is to say, using endless strings of words to talk +about sacred things, without really feeling the truth of them in their +hearts), jangling all together, when suddenly the door opened and a +grave young officer walked in. ''Tis Captain Amor Stoddart, of Noll's +Army,' the professors said one to another, as, hardly stopping for a +moment at the stranger's entrance, they continued to 'jangle' among +themselves. They went on, speaking of the most holy things, talking +even about the blood of Christ, without any feeling of solemnity, till +Fox could bear it no longer. + +'As they were discoursing of it,' he says, 'I saw through the +immediate opening of the invisible Spirit, the blood of Christ; and +cried out among them saying, "Do you not see the blood of Christ? See +it in your hearts, to sprinkle your hearts and consciences from dead +works to serve the living God?" For I saw the blood of the New +Covenant how it came into the heart. This startled the professors who +would have the blood only without them, and not in them. But Captain +Stoddart was reached, and said, "Let the youth speak, hear the youth +speak," when he saw that they endeavoured to bear me down with many +words.' + +'Captain Stoddart was reached.' He, the soldier, accustomed to the +terrible realities of a battlefield, knew the sight of blood for +himself only too well. George Fox's words may seem perhaps mysterious +to us now, but they came home to Amor and made him able to see +something of the same vision that Fox saw. We may not be able to see +that vision ourselves, but at least we can feel the difference between +having the Blood of Christ, that is the Life of Christ, within our +hearts, and only talking and 'jangling' about it, as the professors +were doing. 'Captain Stoddart was reached.' Having been 'reached,' +having seen, if only for one moment, something of what the Cross had +meant to Christ, and having felt His Life within, Amor became a +different man. To take the lives of his fellowmen, to shed their blood +for whom that Blood had been shed, was henceforth for him impossible. +He unbuckled his sword, and resigning his captaincy in Oliver's +conquering army, just when victory was at hand after the stern +struggle, he followed his despised Quaker teacher into obscurity. + +For seven long years we hear nothing more of him. Then he appears +again at George Fox's side, no longer Captain Stoddart the Officer, +but plain Amor Stoddart, a comrade and helper of the first Publishers +of Truth. + +In the year 1655, Fox's Journal records: 'On the sixth day I had a +large meeting near Colchester[33] to which many professors and the +Independent teachers came. After I had done speaking and was stepped +down from the place on which I stood, one of the Independent teachers +began to make a "jangling" [it seems they still went on jangling, even +after seven long years!], which Amor Stoddart perceiving said, "Stand +up again, George!" for I was going away and did not at the first hear +them.' + +If Amor Stoddart had unbuckled his sword, evidently he had not lost +the power of grappling with difficulties, of swiftly seeing the right +thing to do, and of giving his orders with soldier-like precision. + +'Stand up again, George!'--a quick, military command, in the fewest +possible words. George Fox was more in the habit of commanding other +people than of being commanded himself; but he knew his comrade and +obeyed without a word. + +'I stood up again,' he says, 'when I heard the Independent [the man +who had been jangling], and after a while the Lord's power came over +him and all his company, who were confounded, and the Lord's truth was +over all. A great flock of sheep hath the Lord in that country that +feed in His pastures of life.' + +Nevertheless, without Amor Stoddart the sheep would have gone away +hungry, and would not have been fed at that meeting. + +Again we hear of Amor a little later in the same year, still at George +Fox's side, but this time not as a passive spectator, nor even merely +as a resourceful comrade. He was now himself to be a sufferer for the +Truth. He still lives for us through his share in a strange but +wonderful scene of George Fox's life. A few months after the meeting +at Colchester, the two friends visited Cambridge, and 'there,' says +Fox in his Journal, 'the scholars, hearing of me, were up and were +exceeding rude. I kept on my horse's back and rode through them in the +Lord's power. "Oh," said they, "HE SHINES, HE GLISTERS," but they +unhorsed Amor Stoddart before we could get to the inn. When we were in +the inn they were so rude in the courts and the streets, so that the +miners, colliers, and carters could never be ruder. And the people of +the inn asked us 'what we would have for supper' as is the way of +inns. "Supper," said I, "were it not that the Lord's power is over +them, these rude scholars look as if they would pluck us in pieces and +make a supper of us!"' + +After this treatment, the two friends might have been expected to keep +away from Cambridge in the future; but that was not their way. Where +the fight was hottest, there these two faithful soldiers of the Cross +were sure to be found. The very next year saw Fox back in +Cambridgeshire once more; and again Amor Stoddart was with him, +standing by his side and sharing all dangers like a valiant and +faithful friend. + +'I passed into Cambridgeshire,' the Journal continues, 'and into the +fen country, where I had many meetings, and the Lord's truth spread. +Robert Craven, who had been Sheriff of Lincoln, was with me [it would +be interesting to know more about Robert Craven, and where and how he +was "reached"], and Amor Stoddart and Alexander Parker. We went to +Crowland, a very rude place; for the townspeople were got together at +the inn we went to, and were half drunk, both priest and people. I +reproved them for their drunkenness and warned them of the day of the +Lord that was coming upon all the wicked; exhorting them to leave +their wickedness and to turn to the Lord in time. While I was thus +speaking to them the priest and the clerk broke out into a rage, and +got up the tongs and fire-shovel at us, so that had not the Lord's +power preserved us we might have been murdered amongst them. Yet, for +all their rudeness and violence, some received the truth then, and +have stood in it ever since.' + +George Fox was not the only man to find a faithful and staunch +supporter in Amor Stoddart. There is another glimpse of him, again +standing at a comrade's side in time of danger, but the comrade in +this case is not Fox but 'dear William Dewsbury,' one of the best +loved of all the early Friends. + +Amor Stoddart was Dewsbury's companion that sore day at Bristol when +the tidings came from New England overseas, that the first two Quaker +Martyrs, William Robinson and Marmaduke Stevenson, had been hanged for +their faith on Boston Common. Heavy at heart were the Bristol Friends +at the news, and not they only, for assembled with them were some New +England Friends who had been banished from their families and from +their homes, under pain of the same death that the martyrs had +suffered. + +'We were bowed down unto our God,' Dewsbury writes, 'and prayer was +made unto Him when there came a knocking at the door. It came upon my +spirit that it was the rude people, and the life of God did mightily +arise, and they had no power to come in until we were clear before +our God. Then they came in, setting the house about with muskets and +lighted matches. So after a season of this they came into the room, +where I was and Amor Stoddart with me. I looked upon them when they +came into the room, and they cried as fast as they could well speak, +"We will be civil! We will be civil!" + +'I spoke these words, "See that you be so." They ran forth out of the +room and came no more into it, but ran up and down in the house with +their weapons in their hands, and the Lord God caused their hearts to +fail and they passed away, and not any harm done to any of us.' + +Eleven years after this pass in almost complete silence, as far as +Amor is concerned. Occasionally we hear the bare mention of his name +among the London Friends. One short entry in Fox's Journal speaks of +him as having 'buried his wife.' Then the veil lifts again and shows +one more glimpse of him. It is the last. + +In 1670, twenty-two years after that first meeting at Mansfield, when +Captain Stoddart came into the room, and said, 'Let the youth speak,' +George Fox, now a man worn with his sufferings and service, came into +another room to bid farewell to his old comrade as he lay a-dying. Fox +himself had been brought near to death not long before, but he knew +that his work was not yet wholly finished, he was not yet 'fully +clear' in his Master's sight. + +'Under great sufferings, sorrows, and oppressions I lay several +weeks,' he writes in his Journal, 'whereby I was brought so low that +few thought I could live. When those about me had given me up to die, +I spoke to them to get me a coach to carry me to Gerard Roberts, +about twelve miles off, for I found it was my place to go thither. So +I went down a pair of stairs to the coach, and when I came to the +coach I was like to have fallen down, I was so weak and feeble, but I +got up into the coach, and some friends with me. When I came to +Gerard's, after I had stayed about three weeks there, it was with me +to go to Enfield. Friends were afraid of my removing, but I told them +that I might safely go. When I had taken my leave of Gerard and had +come to Enfield, I went first to visit Amor Stoddart, who lay very +weak and almost speechless. I was moved to tell him "that he had been +faithful as a man and faithful to God, and the immortal Seed of Life +was his crown." Many more words I was moved to speak to him, though I +was then so weak, I could scarcely stand, and within a few days after, +Amor died.' + +That is all. Very simply he passes out of sight, having heard his +comrade's 'well done':--this valiant soldier who renounced his sword. + +His name, AMOR, still holds the secret of his power, his silent +patience, and of his victory, for + + 'OMNIA VINCIT AMOR.' + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[33] It was on this visit to Colchester that George Fox had his +farewell interview with James Parnell, imprisoned in the Castle. + + + + +XXV. THE MARVELLOUS VOYAGE OF THE GOOD SHIP 'WOODHOUSE' + + + + + _'In the 17th Century England was + peculiarly rich, if not in great + mystics, at any rate in mystically + minded men. Mysticism, it seems, + was in the air; broke out under + many disguises and affected many + forms of life.'--E. UNDERHILL, + 'Mysticism.'_ + + + _'He who says "Yes," responds, + obeys, co-operates, and allows + this resident seed of God, or + Christ Light, to have full sway in + him, becomes transformed thereby + and recreated into likeness to + Christ by whom the inner seed was + planted, and of whose nature it + is.'--RUFUS M. JONES._ + + + _'Through winds and tides, one + compass guides.'--A.H. CLOUGH._ + + + _'Have mercy upon me, O God, for + Thine ocean is so great, and my + little bark is so small.'--Breton + Fisherman's Prayer._ + + + _'Be faithful and still, till the + winds cease and the storm be over.' + ... 'Friends' fellowship must be in + the Spirit, and all Friends must + know one another in the Spirit and + power of God.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'Christopher Holder and I are + going ... in obedience to the will + of our God, whose will is our + joy.'--JOHN COPELAND. 1657._ + + + _'The log of the little + "Woodhouse" has become a sacred + classic.'--WILLIAM LITTLEBOY, + Swarthmoor Lecture, 1917._ + + + + +XXV. THE MARVELLOUS VOYAGE OF THE GOOD SHIP 'WOODHOUSE' + + +Master Robert Fowler of Burlington was a well-known figure in all the +fishing towns and villages along the Yorkshire coast in the year of +grace 1657. A man of substance was he, a master mariner, well skilled +in his craft; building his own ships and sailing them withal, and +never to be turned back from an adventurous voyage. Many fine vessels +he had, sailing over the broad waters, taking the Yorkshire cargoes of +wool and hides to distant lands, and bringing back foreign goods in +exchange, to be sold again at a profit on his return to old England's +shores. Thus up and down the Yorkshire coast men spoke and thought +highly of Master Robert Fowler's judgment in all matters pertaining to +the sea. On land, too, he seemed prudent and skilful, though some +folks looked at him askance of late years, since he had joined himself +to that strange and perverse people known as the Quakers. + +Yet, in spite of what his neighbours considered his new-fangled +religion, Master Robert Fowler was prospering in all his worldly +affairs. Even now on the sunny day when our story opens, he was hard +at work putting the last touches to a new boat of graceful proportions +and gallant curves, that bade fair to be a yet more notable seafarer +than any of her distant sisters. + +Why then did Master Robert Fowler pause more than once in his work to +heave a deep sigh, and throw down his tools almost pettishly? Why did +he suddenly put his fingers in his ears as if to shut out an unwelcome +sound, resuming his work thereafter with double speed? No one was +speaking to him. The mid-day air was very still. The haze that often +broods over the north-east coast veiled the horizon. Sea and sky +melted into one another till it was impossible to say where earth +ended and heaven began. An unwonted silence reigned even on Burlington +Quay. No sound was to be heard save for the tap, tap, tap of Master +Robert Fowler's hammer. + +Again he dropped his tools. Again he looked up to the sky, as if he +were listening to an unseen voice. + +Someone was truly speaking to him, though no faintest sound vibrated +on the air. His inward ear heard clearly these words-- + +'THOU HAST HER NOT FOR NOTHING.' + +His eyes travelled proudly over the nearly completed vessel. Every one +of her swelling curves he knew by heart; had learned to know and love +through long months of toil. How still she lay, the beauty, still as a +bird, poising on the sea. Ah! but the day was coming when she would +spread her wings and skim over the ocean, buoyant and dainty as one of +the terns, those sea-swallows that with their sharp white wings even +now were hovering round her. Built for use she was too, not merely to +take the eye. Although small of size more bales of goods could be +stowed away under her shapely decks than in many another larger +clumsier vessel. Who should know this better than Robert, her maker, +who had planned it all? + +For what had he planned her? + +Was it for the voyage to the Eastern Mediterranean that had been the +desire of his heart for many years? How well he knew it, that voyage +he had never made! Down the Channel he would go, past Ushant and +safely across the Bay. Then, when Finisterre had dropped to leeward, +it would be but a few days' sail along the pleasant coasts of Portugal +till Gibraltar was reached. And then, heigh ho! for a fair voyage in +the summer season, week after week over a calm blue sea to the +land-locked harbour where flat-roofed, white-walled houses, stately +palm-trees, rosy domes and minarets, mirrored in the still water, +gazed down at their own reflections. + +Was the _Woodhouse_ for this? + +He had planned her for this dream voyage. + +Why then came that other Voice in his heart directly he began to +build: 'FASHION THEE A SHIP FOR THE SERVICE OF TRUTH!' And now that +she was nearly completed, why did the Voice grow daily more insistent, +giving ever clearer directions? + +What a bird she was! His own bird of the sea, his beautiful +_Woodhouse_! So thought Master Robert Fowler. But then again came the +insistent Voice within, speaking yet more clearly and distinctly than +ever before: 'THOU HAST HER NOT FOR NOTHING.' + +The vision of his sea-swallow, her white wings gleaming in the sun as +she dropped anchor in that still harbour; the vision of the white and +rose-coloured city stretched like an encircling arm around the +turquoise waters, these dreams faded relentlessly from his sight. +Instead he saw the _Woodhouse_ beating up wearily against a bleak and +rugged shore on which grey waves were breaking. Angry, white teeth +those giant breakers showed; teeth that would grind a dainty boat to +pieces with no more compunction than a dog who snaps at a fly. Must he +take her there? A vision of that inhospitable shore was constantly +with him as he worked. 'New England was presented before him.' Day +after day he drove the thought from him. Night after night it +returned. + +'Thou hast her not for nothing. She is needed for the service of +Truth.' Master Robert Fowler grew lean and wan with inward struggle, +but yield his will he could not, yet disobey the Voice he did not +dare. When his wife and children asked what ailed him he answered not, +or gave a surly reply. Truth to tell, he avoided their company all he +could,--and yet a look was in his eyes when they did not notice as if +he had never before felt them half so dear. At length the +long-expected day arrived when the completed vessel sailed graciously +out to sea. But there was no gaiety on board, as there had been when +her sister ships had departed. No cargo had she. No farewells were +said. Master Robert Fowler stole aboard when all beside were sleeping. +The _Woodhouse_ slipped from the grey harbour into the grey sea, +noiselessly as a bird. None of the crew knew what ailed the master, +nor why his door was locked for long hours thereafter, until the +Yorkshire coast first drew dim, and then faded from the horizon. He +would not even tell them whither the vessel was bound. 'Keep a +straight course; come back at four bells, and then I will direct you,' +was all his answer, when the mate knocked at his door for orders. + +But within the cabin a man was wrestling with himself upon his knees; +till at last in agony he cried: 'E'en take the boat, Lord, an so Thou +wilt, for I have no power to give her Thee. Yet truly she is Thine.' + + * * * * * + +At that same hour in London an anxious little company was gathered in +a house at the back side of Thomas Apostles Church, over the door of +which swung the well-known sign of the Fleur-de-luce. + +The master of the house, Friend Gerard Roberts, a merchant of Watling +Street, sat at the top of the table in a small upper room. The anxiety +on his countenance was reflected in the faces round his board. Seven +men and four women were there, all soberly clad as befitted +ministering Friends. They were not eating or drinking, but solemnly +seeking for guidance. + +'Can no ship then be found to carry us to the other side? For truly +the Lord's word is as a fire and hammer in me, though in the outward +appearance there is no likelihood of getting passage,' one Friend was +saying. + +'Ships in plenty there are bound for New England, but ne'er a one that +is willing to carry even one Quaker, let alone eleven,' Friend Roberts +answered. 'The colonists' new laws are strict, and their punishments +are savage. I know, Friends, ye are all ready, aye and willing, to +suffer in the service of Truth. It is not merely the threatened +cropping of the ears of every Quaker who sets foot ashore that is the +difficulty. It is the one hundred pounds fine for every Quaker landed, +not levied on the Friends themselves, mind you--that were simple--but +on the owner of the boat in which they shall have voyaged. This it is +that hinders your departure. It were not fair to ask a man to run such +risk. It is not fair. Yet already I have asked many in vain. Way doth +not open. We must needs leave it, and see if the concern abides.' + +Clear as a bell rose the silvery tones of a young woman Friend, one who +had been formerly a serving-maid at Cammsgill Farm: 'Commit thy way +unto the Lord, trust also in Him, and He shall bring it to pass. Shall +not He who setteth a bound to the sea that it shall not pass over, and +taketh up the isles as a very little thing--shall not He be trusted to +find a ship for His servants who trust in Him, to enable them to +perform His will?' As the clear bell-like tones died away the little +company, impelled by a united instinct, sank into a silence in which +time passed unnoticed. Suddenly, at the same moment, a weight seemed to +be removed from the hearts of all. They clasped hands and separated. +And at that very moment, although they knew it not, far away on the +broad seas, a man, wrestling on his knees in the cabin of his vessel, +was saying with bitter tears, 'E'en take, Lord, an so Thou wilt, though +I have no power to give her to Thee. Yet truly she is Thine.' When four +bells were sounded on the good ship _Woodhouse_, and a knock came to +the door of the cabin as the mate asked for directions, it was in a +steady voice that Master Robert Fowler replied from within, 'Mark a +straight course for London; and after--whithersoever the Lord may +direct.' + +Blithely and gaily henceforward the _Woodhouse_ skimmed her way to the +mouth of the Thames and dropped anchor at the port of London. But as +yet Master Robert Fowler knew nothing of the anxious group of Friends +waiting to be taken to New England on the service of Truth (five of +them having already been deported thence for the offence of being +Quakers, yet anxious to return and take six others with them). Neither +did these Friends know anything of Master Robert Fowler, nor of his +good ship _Woodhouse_. + +Yet, though unknown to each other, he and they alike were well known +to One Heart, were guided by One Hand, were listening to the +directions of One Voice. Therefore, though it may seem a strange +chance, it was not wonderful really that within a few hours of the +arrival of the _Woodhouse_ in the Thames Master Robert Fowler and +Friend Gerard Roberts met each other face to face in London City. Nor +was it strange that the ship's captain should be moved to tell the +merchant of the exercise of his spirit about his ship. In truth all +Friends who visited London in those days were wont to unburden +themselves of their perplexities to the master of that hospitable +house over whose doorway swung the sign of the Fleur-de-luce. Lightly +he told it--almost as a jest--the folly of the notion that a vessel of +such small tonnage could be needed to face the terrors of the terrible +Atlantic. Surely a prudent merchant like Friend Roberts would tell him +to pay no heed to visions and inner voices, and such like idle +notions? But Gerard Roberts did not scoff. He listened silently. A +look almost of awe stole over his face. The first words he uttered +were, 'It is the Lord's doing and it is marvellous in our eyes.' And +at these words Master Robert Fowler's heart sank down, down like +lead. + +Long afterwards, describing the scene, he says: 'Also when (the +vessel) was finished and freighted, and made to sea, contrary to my +will, was brought to London, where, speaking touching this matter to +Gerard Roberts and others, they confirmed the matter in behalf of the +Lord, that it must be so.' + +'It must be so.' This is the secret of Guidance from that day to this. +The Inner Voice alone is not always enough for action; the outer need +or claim of service alone is not necessarily a call. But when the +Inner Voice and the outer need come together, then truly the will of +the Lord is plain, and 'It must be so.' + +Master Robert Fowler was not yet willing or ready to sacrifice his own +wishes. A decisive victory is not to be won in one battle, however +severe, but only throughout the stress of a long campaign. The +struggle in his cabin, when he allowed the ship's head to be turned +towards London, must needs be fought out again. The unreasonableness +of such a voyage in such a vessel, the risk, the thought of the +dangers and misery it would bring, took possession of his mind once +more, as he himself confesses: 'Yet entering into reasoning and +letting in temptation and hardships, and the loss of my life, wife, +and children, with the enjoyment of all earthly things, it brought me +as low as the grave, and laid me as one dead to the things of God.' + +'Let the sacrifice be made, if it must be made,' he said to himself, +'but it is too much to expect any man to make it willingly.' For days +he went about, in his own words, 'as one dead.' + +The eagerness of the Friends to depart, their plans for the voyage, +their happy cares, only loaded his spirit the more. It was a dark, +sad, miserable time; and a dark, sad, miserable man was the owner of +the _Woodhouse_. + +Till on a certain day, the Friends coming as usual to visit his ship +brought another with them, a Stranger; taller, stronger, sturdier than +them all; a man with a long drooping nose and piercing eyes--yes, and +leather breeches! It was, it could be no other than George Fox! + +What did he say to Robert Fowler? What words did he use? Did he argue +or command? That was unnecessary. The mere presence of the strong +faithful servant of the Lord drew out a like faithfulness in the other +more timid soul. + +Robert Fowler's narrative continues: + +'But by His instrument, George Fox, was I refreshed and raised up +again, which before was much contrary to myself that I could have as +willingly have died as gone; but by the strength of God I was now made +willing to do His will; yea even the customs and fashions of the +customs house could not stop me.' + +'Made willing to do His will.' There is the secret of this 'wonderful +voyage.' For it was absurdly dangerous to think of sailing across the +Atlantic in such a vessel as the _Woodhouse_: or it would have been, +had it been a mere human plan. But if the all-powerful, almighty Will +of God really commanded them to go, then it was no longer dangerous +but the only safe thing they could do. + +'Our trembling hands held in Thy strong and loving grasp, what shall +even the weakest of us fear?' + +Perhaps Master Robert expected when once he was ready to obey +cheerfully, that all his difficulties would vanish. Instead, fresh +difficulties arose; and the next difficulty was truly a great one. The +press-gang came by, and took Robert Fowler's servants off by force to +help to man the British fleet that was being fitted out to fight in +the Baltic; took them, whether they would or no, as Richard Sellar was +to be captured in the same way, seven years later. + +So now the long voyage to America must be undertaken not only in too +small a boat, but with too few sailors to work her. Besides Robert +Fowler, only two men and three boys were left on board to sail the +ship on this long, difficult voyage. + +Presently the Friends began to come on board; and if the captain's +heart sank anew as he saw the long string of passengers making for his +tiny boat--who shall wonder or blame him? It was a very solemn +procession of weighty Friends. + +In front came the five, who had been in America before, and who were +going back to face persecution, knowing what it meant. Their names +were: first that 'ancient and venerable man' William Brend; then young +Christopher Holder of Winterbourne in Gloucestershire, a well-educated +man of good estate; John Copeland of Holderness in Yorkshire; Mary +Weatherhead of Bristol; and Dorothy[34] Waugh, the serving-maid of +Preston Patrick, who had been 'convinced and called to the ministry' +as she went about her daily work in the family of Friend John Camm, at +Cammsgill. + +After them followed the other five who had not crossed the Atlantic +before, but who were no less eager to face unknown difficulties and +dangers. Their names were: William Robinson the London merchant; +Robert Hodgson; Humphrey Norton (remember Humphrey Norton, he will be +heard of again); Richard Doudney, 'an innocent man who served the Lord +in sincerity'; and Mary Clark, the wife of John Clark, a London +Friend, who, like most of the others, had already undergone much +suffering for her faith. On board the _Woodhouse_ they all came, +stepping on deck one after the other solemnly and sedately, while the +anxious captain watched them and wondered how many more were to come, +and where they were all to be lodged. Once they were on board, +however, things changed and felt quite different. It was as if an +Unseen Passenger had come with them. + +This is Robert Fowler's own account: 'Upon the 1st day of Fourth Month +called June received I the Lord's servants aboard, Who came with a +mighty hand and an outstretched arm with them; so that with courage we +set sail and came to the Downs the second day, where our dearly +beloved William Dewsbury with Michael Thompson came aboard, and in +them we were much refreshed; and, recommending us to the grace of God, +we launched forth.' + +After this his narrative has a different ring: Master Fowler was no +longer going about his ship with eyes cast down and hanging head and a +heart full of fear. He had straightened his back and was a stalwart +mariner again. Perhaps this was partly owing to the great pleasure +that came to him before they actually set sail, when, as he tells, +William Dewsbury came on board to visit the travellers. 'Dear William +Dewsbury' was the one Friend of all others Robert Fowler must have +wished to see once more before leaving England, for it was William +Dewsbury's preaching that had 'convinced' Robert Fowler and made him +become a Friend a few years before. It was William Dewsbury's teaching +about the blessedness of following the inner Voice, the inner +guidance, that had led him to offer himself and the _Woodhouse_ for +the service of Truth. + +Perhaps he said, half in joke, half in earnest, 'O William Dewsbury! O +William Dewsbury! thou hast much to answer for! If I had never met +thee I should never have undertaken this voyage in my little boat!' If +he said this, I think a very tender, thankful light came into William +Dewsbury's face, as he answered, 'Let us give thanks then together, +brother, that the message did reach thee through me; since without +this voyage thou could'st not fully have known the power and the +wonder of the Lord.' + +Quakers do not have priests to baptize them, or bishops to confirm or +ordain them, as Church people do. Yet God's actual presence in the +heart is often revealed first through the message of one of His +messengers. Therefore there is a special bond of tender fellowship and +friendship between those who are truly fathers and children in God, +even in a Society where all are friends. In this relation William +Dewsbury stood to Robert Fowler. + +Reason and fear raised their heads once again, even after William +Dewsbury's visit. Robert Fowler thought of going to the Admiral in the +Downs to complain of the loss of his servants, and to ask that a +convoy might be sent with them. But he did not go, because, as he +says, 'From which thing I was withholden by that Hand which was my +Helper.' + +The south wind began to blow, and they were obliged to put in at +Portsmouth, and there there were plenty of men waiting to be engaged, +but when they heard that this tiny vessel was actually venturing to +cross the Atlantic, not one would sail in her, and this happened again +at South Yarmouth, where they put in a few days later. + +At Portsmouth, however, the Friends were not idle. They went ashore +and held a meeting, or, as Robert Fowler puts it, 'They went forth and +gathered sticks and kindled a fire, and left it burning.' Not real +sticks for a real fire, of course, but a fire of love and service in +people's hearts, that would help to keep the cold world warm in after +days. + +This was their last task in England. A few hours later they had +quitted her shores. The coast-line that followed them faithfully at +first, dropped behind gradually, growing fainter and paler, then +resting like a thought upon the sea, till it finally disappeared. Only +a vast expanse of heaving waters surrounded the travellers. + +At first it seemed as if their courage was not to be too severely +tested. 'Three pretty large ships which were for the Newfoundland' +appeared, and bore the _Woodhouse_ company for some fifty leagues. In +their vicinity the smaller vessel might have made the voyage, perilous +at best, with a certain amount of confidence. But the Dutch warships +were known to be not far distant, and in order to escape them the +three 'pretty large ships made off to the northward, and left us +without hope or help as to the outward.' + +The manner of the departure of the ships was on this wise. Early in +the morning it was shown to Humphrey Norton--who seems to have been +especially sensitive to messages from the invisible world--'that those +were nigh unto us who sought our lives.' He called Robert Fowler, and +gave him this warning, and added, 'Thus saith the Lord, ye shall be +carried away as in a mist.' 'Presently,' says Robert Fowler, 'we +espied a great ship making up to us, and the three great ships were +much afraid, and tacked about with what speed they could; in the very +interim the Lord fulfilled His promise, and struck our enemies in the +face with a contrary wind, wonderfully to our refreshment. Then upon +our parting from these three ships we were brought to ask counsel of +the Lord, and the word was from Him, "Cut through and steer your +straight course and mind nothing but Me."' + +'Cut through and steer your straight course, and mind nothing but Me!' +Alone upon the broad Atlantic in this cockle-shell of a boat! Only a +cockle-shell truly, yet it held a bit of heaven within it--the heaven +of obedience. Every day the little company of Friends met in that +ship's hold together, and 'He Himself met with us and manifested +himself largely unto us,' words that have been proved true by many +another company of the Master's servants afloat upon the broad waters +from that day to this. There they sat on the wooden benches, with +spray breaking over them, the faithful men and women who were daring +all for the Truth. Only three times in the whole voyage was the +weather so bad that storms prevented their assembling together. Much +of the actual navigation of the vessel seems to have been left to the +strange passengers to determine. The Captain's narrative continues: +'Thus it was all the voyage with the faithful, who were carried far +above storms and tempests, that when the ship went either to the right +hand or to the left, their hands joined all as one, and did direct her +way; so that we have seen and said, "We see the Lord leading our +vessel even as it were a man leading a horse by the head; we regarding +neither latitude nor longitude, but kept to our line, which was and is +our Leader, Guide, and Rule."' + +Besides the guidance vouchsafed to the Friends as a group, some of +them had special intimations given to them. + +'The sea was my figure,' says Robert Fowler, 'for if anything got up +within, the sea without rose up against me, and then the floods +clapped their hands, of which in time I took notice and told Humphrey +Norton.'[35] + +In this account Humphrey Norton always seems to hear voices directing +their course, while Robert Fowler generally 'sees figures'--sights +that teach him what to do. Guidance may come in different ways to +different people, but it does come surely to those who seek for it. + +The inward Voice spoke to Robert Fowler also when they were in mid +Atlantic after they had been at sea some two weeks: + +'We saw another great ship making up to us which did appear far off +to be a frigate, and made her sign for us to come to them, which was +to me a great cross, we being to windward of them; and it was said "GO +SPEAK TO HIM, THE CROSS IS SURE; DID I EVER FAIL THEE THEREIN?" And +unto others there appeared no danger in it, so that we did, and it +proved a tradesman of London, by whom we writ back.' + +The hardest test of their faith came some three weeks later, when +after five weeks at sea they had still accomplished only 300 leagues, +scarcely a third part of their voyage, and their destination still +seemed hopelessly distant. The strong faith of Humphrey Norton carried +them all over this trial. 'He (Humphrey Norton) falling into communion +with God, told me that he had received a comfortable answer, and also +that about such a day we should land in America, which was even so +fulfilled. Upon the last day of the fifth month (July) 1657, we made +land.' + +This land turned out to be the very part to which the Friends had most +desired to come. The pilot[36] had expected to reach quite a different +point, but the invisible guidance of his strange passengers was clear +and unwavering. 'Our drawing had been all the passage to keep to the +southward, until the evening before we made land, and then the word +was, "There is a lion in the way"; unto which we gave obedience, and +said, "Let them steer northwards until the day following."'[37] + +That must have been an anxious day on board the _Woodhouse_. Think of +the two different clues that were being followed within that one small +boat: the Friends with their clasped hands, seeking and finding +guidance; up on deck the pilot, with his nautical knowledge, scoffing +very likely at any other method of progress than the reckoning to +which he was accustomed. As the slow hours passed, and no land +appeared to break the changeless circle of the sea, the Friends felt a +'drawing' to meet together long before their usual time. 'And it was +said that we may look abroad in the evening; and as we sat waiting +upon the Lord, we discovered the land, and our mouths were opened in +prayer and thanksgiving.' + +The words are simple as any words could be. But in spite of the 260 +years that separate that day from this, its gladness is still fresh. +All voyagers know the thrill caused by the first sight of land, even +in these days of steamships, when all arrangements can be made and +carried out with almost clock-like precision. But in the old time of +sailing ships, when a contrary wind or a sudden calm might upset the +reckoning for days together, and when there was the added danger that +food or water might give out, to see the longed-for land in sight at +last must have been even more of an event. + +To all the Friends on board the _Woodhouse_ this first sight of +America meant a yet deeper blessedness. It was the outer assurance +that the invisible guidance they were following was reliable. The +Friends rejoiced and were wholly at rest and thankful. But the pilot, +instead of being, as might have been expected, convinced at last that +there was a wisdom wiser than his own, still resisted. Where some +people see life with a thread of guidance running through it +unmistakably, others are always to be found who will say these things +are nothing but chance and what is called 'coincidence.' + +Such an one was the pilot of the _Woodhouse_. As the land drew nearer, +a creek was seen to open out in it. The Friends were sure that their +vessel was meant to enter there, but again the pilot resisted. By this +time the Friends had learned to expect objections from him, and had +learned, too, that it was best not to argue with him, but to leave him +to find out for himself that their guidance was right. So they told +him to do as he chose, that 'both sides were safe, but going that way +would be more trouble to him.' When morning dawned 'he saw, after he +had laid by all the night, the thing fulfilled.' + +Into the creek, therefore, in the bright morning sunlight the +_Woodhouse_ came gaily sailing; not knowing where she was, nor whither +the creek would lead. 'Now to lay before you the largeness of the +wisdom, will, and power of God, this creek led us in between the Dutch +Plantation and Long Island:'--the very place that some of the Friends +had felt that they ought to visit, but which it would have been most +difficult to reach had they landed in any other spot. Thus 'the Lord +God that moved them brought them to the place appointed, and led us +into our way according to the word which came unto Christopher Holder: +"You are in the road to Rhode Island." In that creek came a shallop to +guide us, taking us to be strangers, we making our way with our boat, +and they spoke English, and informed us, and guided us along. The +power of the Lord fell much upon us, and an irresistible word came +unto us, that the seed in America shall be as the sand of the sea; it +was published in the ears of the brethren, which caused tears to break +forth with fulness of joy; so that presently for these places some +prepared themselves, who were Robert Hodgson, Richard Doudney, Sarah +Gibbons, Mary Weatherhead, and Dorothy Waugh, who the next day were +put safely ashore into the Dutch plantation, called New Amsterdam.' + +'New Amsterdam, on an unnamed creek in the Dutch Plantation,' sounds +an unfamiliar place to modern ears. Yet when that same Dutch +Plantation changed hands and became English territory its new masters +altered the name of its chief town. New Amsterdam was re-christened in +honour of the king's brother, James, Duke of York, and became known as +New York, the largest city of the future United States of America. + +As to the unnamed 'creek' into which the _Woodhouse_ was led, that was +probably the estuary of the mighty river Hudson. 'Here,' continues +Robert Fowler, 'we came, and it being the First Day of the week +several came aboard to us and we began our work. I was caused to go to +the Governor, and Robert Hodgson with me--he (the Governor) was +moderate both in words and actions.' + +This moderation on the Governor's part must have been no small comfort +to the new arrivals. Also the laws of the New Netherland Colonies, +where they had unexpectedly landed, were much more tolerant than those +of New England, whither they were bound. Even yet the perils of the +gallant _Woodhouse_ were not over. The remaining Friends had now to +be taken on to hospitable Rhode Island, the home of religious liberty, +from whence they could pursue their mission to the persecuting +Colonists on the mainland. + +A few days before their arrival at New Amsterdam, the two Roberts +(Robert Hodgson and Robert Fowler) had both had a vision in which they +had seen the _Woodhouse_ in great danger. The day following their +interview with the Governor, when they were once more on the sea, 'it +was fulfilled, there being a passage between the two lands which is +called by the name of Hell-Gate; we lay very conveniently for a pilot, +and into that place we came, and into it were forced, and over it were +carried, which I never heard of any before that were; there were rocks +many on both sides of us, so that I believe one yard's length would +have endangered both vessel and goods.' + +Here for the last time the little group of Friends gathered to give +thanks for their safe arrival after their most wonderful voyage. If +any of them were tempted to think they owed any of their protection +and guidance to their own merits and faithfulness, a last vision that +came to Robert Fowler must have chased this thought out of their minds +once for all. + +'There was a shoal of fish,' he says, 'which pursued our vessel and +followed her strangely, and along close by our rudder.' The master +mariner's eye had evidently been following the movements of the fish +throughout the day, as he asked himself: 'What are those fish? I never +saw fish act in that way before. Why do they follow the vessel so +steadily?' Then, in the time of silent waiting upon God, light +streamed upon this puzzle in his mind. + +'In our meeting it was shewn to me, these fish are to thee a figure. +"Thus doth the prayers of the churches proceed to the Lord for thee +and the rest."' That was the explanation of the wonderful voyage. The +_Woodhouse_ and her little company had not been solitary and +unprotected, even when the three 'pretty great ships' drew off for +fear of the Dutch men of war and left them alone. + +The prayers of their friends in England were following them across the +vast Atlantic, though unseen by human eyes, even as those hosts of +shining fish, which surrounded the vessel as she drove her prow +through the clear water, would be unseen to a spectator above its +surface. George Fox was praying for the travellers. William Dewsbury +was sure to be praying for them. Friend Gerard Roberts would be also +much in prayer, since the responsibility of the voyage was largely on +his shoulders. Besides these, there were the husbands, wives, and +little children of some of the Friends, the brothers and sisters of +others, all longing for them to arrive safely and do their Master's +work. Now here came the fish to assure Robert Fowler that the faith he +believed was true. Real as the things we can see or touch or feel seem +to us to be, the unseen things are more real still. Ever after, to +those who had crossed the Atlantic in the good ship _Woodhouse_, the +assurance of God's clear guidance and the answered prayers of His +people must have been the most real of all. + +Robert Fowler's story of the marvellous voyage ends with these words: +'Surely in our meeting did the thing run through me as oil and bid me +much rejoice.' + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[34] She sometimes spelled her name Dorithy, which is not the way to +spell Dorothy now, but spelling was much less fixed in those days. + +[35] The meaning seems to be that whenever fear or misgiving came to +Fowler's heart, the sea also became stormy; while his spirit remained +trustful, the sea was likewise calm. + +[36] As the navigating officer of the ship was then called. + +[37] It is not quite easy at this distance of time to understand why +'a lion in the way' should mean 'go north,' unless it was because the +'drawing' had been strongly south hitherto, and now that path was +blocked. + + + + +XXVI. RICHARD SELLAR AND THE 'MERCIFUL MAN' + + + + + _'To resort to force is to lose + faith in the inner light. War only + results from men taking counsel + with their passions instead of + waiting upon God. If one believes, + as Fox did, that the most powerful + element in human nature is that + something of God which speaks in + the conscience, then to coerce men + is clearly wrong. The only true + line of approach is by patience to + reach down to that divine seed, to + appeal to what is best, because it + is what is strongest in man. The + Quaker testimony against war is no + isolated outwork of their + position: it forms part of their + citadel.'--H.G. WOOD._ + + + _'The following narrative we have + thought proper to insert in the + very words of the sufferer, as + taken from his own mouth. The + candid Reader will easily excuse + the simplicity of its style, and + the Plainness of its Expressions. + It is the more like the man, and + carries the greater evidence of + the Honesty and Integrity of the + Relator, viz. "An Account of the + Sufferings of Richard Seller of + Keinsey, a Fisherman, who was + prest in Scarborough-Piers, in the + time of the two last engagements + between the Dutch and English, in + the year 1665." These are (says + the writer) the very words that + proceeded from him, who sat before + me weeping.'--BESSE, 'Sufferings + of the Quakers.'_ + + + + +XXVI. RICHARD SELLAR AND THE 'MERCIFUL MAN' + + +Away to the Yorkshire coast we must go, and once more find ourselves +looking up at the bold headland of Scarborough Cliff, as it juts out +into the North Sea. Away again in time, too, to the year 1665, when +George Fox still lay in prison up at the Castle, with his room full of +smoke on stormy days when the wind 'drove in the rain forcibly,' while +'the water came all over his bed and ran about the room till he was +forced to skim it up with a platter.' + +Happily there is no storm raging this time. Our story begins on a +still, warm afternoon late in the summer, when even the prisoner up at +the Castle can hardly help taking some pleasure in the cloudless blue +sky and shining sea spread out above and around him. + +But it is not to the Castle we are bound to-day. We need not climb +again the steep, worn steps that lead to the top of the hill. Instead, +we must descend an equally narrow flight that leads down, down, down +with queer twists and turns, till we find ourselves close to the +water's edge. Even in the fiercest gales there is shelter here for the +red-roofed fishing village that surrounds the harbour, while on a warm +afternoon the air is almost oppressively hot. The brown sails of the +fishing smacks and the red roofs of the houses are faithfully +reflected in the clear water beneath them as in a looking-glass. + +Outside the door of one of the houses a rough fisherman is seated on a +bench, his back against the house wall, mending his nets. At first +sight he looks almost like an old man, for his hair is grey, though +his body is still strong and active. His hands are twisted and bear +the marks of cruel scars upon them, but his face is peaceful, though +worn and rugged. He handles the nets lovingly, as if he were glad to +feel them slipping through his fingers again. Evidently the nets have +not been used for some time, for there are many holes in them, and the +mending is a slow business. As he works the fisherman sings in a low +voice, not loud enough for the neighbours to hear but just humming to +himself. + +Every now and then the door of the house half opens, and a little girl +looks out and asks, 'Thou art really there, Father? truly safe back +again?' The man looks up, smiling, as he calls back, 'Ay, ay, my maid. +Get on with thy work, Margery, and I'll get on with mine.' + +'Art thou sure thou art safe, Father?' + +He does not answer this question in words, but he raises his voice and +sings the next verse of his song a little more loudly and clearly-- + + 'Because on Me his love is set, + Deliver him I will, + And safely bring him higher yet + Upon My holy hil.' + +Later on, when the nets are mended and the sun is sinking above the +Castle Cliff in a fiery glow, Margery comes out and sits on her +father's knee; the lads, home from school, gather round and say, 'Now +then, Master Sellar, tell us once more the story of thy absence from +us, and about how thou wast pressed and taken on board the _Royal +Prince_. Tell us about the capstan and the lashings; about how they +beat thee; what the carpenter and the boatswain's mate did, and how +the gunner went down three times on his bare knees on the deck to beg +thy life. Let us hear it all again.' 'Yes, please do, Father dear,' +chimes in Margery, 'only leave out some of the beatings and the +dreadful part, and hurry on very quickly to the end of the story about +all the sailors throwing up their caps and huzzaing for Sir Edward, +the merciful man.' + +The fisherman smiles and nods. He puts his arm more tenderly than ever +round his small daughter as he says, 'Ay, ay, dear heart, never thou +fear.' Then, drawing Margery closer to him, he begins his tale. It is +a long story. The sun has set; the crescent moon has disappeared; and +the stars are stealing out, one by one, before he has finished. I wish +you and I could listen to that story, don't you? Well, we can! Someone +who heard it from the fisherman's own lips has written it all down for +us. He is telling it to us in his own words to-day, as he told it to +those children in Scarborough village long ago. + +Now and then we must interrupt him to explain some of the words he +uses, or even alter the form of the sentences slightly, in order fully +to understand what it is he is talking about. + +But he is telling his own story. + +'My name,' begins the fisherman, 'is Richard Sellar. It was during the +war between the Dutch and English that I was pressed at Scarborough in +1665.' + +'Pressed' means that he was forced to go and fight against his will. +When the country is in danger men are obliged to leave their peaceful +employments and learn to be soldiers and sailors, in order, as they +think, to defend their own nation by trying to kill their enemies. It +is something like what people now call 'conscription' that Richard +Sellar is talking of when he speaks of 'being pressed.' He means that +a number of men, called a 'press-crew,' forced him to go with them to +fight in the king's navy, for, as the proverb said, 'A king's ship and +the gallows refuse nobody.' + +'I was pressed,' Richard continues, 'within Scarborough Piers, and +refusing to go on board the ketch [or boat] they beat me very sore, +and I still refusing, they hoisted me in with a tackle on board, and +they bunched me with their feet, that I fell backward into a tub, and +was so maimed that they were forced to swaddle me up with clothes.' + +Richard Sellar could not help himself. Bound, bruised, and beaten he +was carried off in the boat to be taken to a big fighting ship called +the _Royal Prince_, that was waiting for them off the mouth of the +Thames and needing more sailors to man her for the war. + +The press-crew however had not captured enough men at Scarborough, so +they put in at another Yorkshire port, spelled Burlington then but +Bridlington now. It was that same Burlington or Bridlington from which +Master Robert Fowler had sailed years before. Was he at home again +now, I wonder, working in his shipyard and remembering the wonderful +experiences of the good ship _Woodhouse_? Surely he must have been +away on a voyage at this time or he would if possible have visited +Richard Sellar in his confinement on the ketch. Happily at Bridlington +there also lived two kind women, who, hearing that the ketch had a +'pressed Quaker' on board, sent Richard Sellar a present of +food--green stuff and eatables that would keep well on a voyage: these +provisions saved his life later on. After this stay in port the ketch +sailed on again to the Nore, a big sand-bank lying near the mouth of +the Thames. + +'And there,' Richard goes on to say, 'they haled me in at a gunport, +on board of the ship called the _Royal Prince_. The first day of the +third month, they commanded me to go to work at the capstan. I +refused; then they commanded me to call of the steward for my +victuals; which I refused, and told them that as I was not free to do +the king's work, I would not live at his charge for victuals. Then the +boatswain's mate beat me sore, and thrust me about with the capstan +until he was weary; then the Captain sent for me on the quarter-deck, +and asked me why I refused to fight for the king, and why I refused to +eat of his victuals? I told him I was afraid to offend God, for my +warfare was spiritual, and therefore I durst not fight with carnal +weapons. Then the Captain fell upon me, and beat me first with his +small cane, then called for his great cane, and beat me sore, and +felled me down to the deck three or four times, and beat me as long as +his strength continued. Then came one, Thomas Horner (which was +brought up at Easington), and said, "I pray you, noble Captain, be +merciful, for I know him to be an honest and a good man." Then said +the captain, "He is a Quaker; I will beat his brains out." Then +falling on me again, he beat me until he was weary, and then called +some to help him; "for" said he, "I am not able to beat him enough to +make him willing to do the king's service."' + +There Richard lay, bruised and beaten, on the deck. Neither the +sailors nor the Captain knew what to do with him. Presently up came +the Commander's jester or clown, a man whose business it was to make +the officers laugh. 'What,' said he, 'can't you make that Quaker work? +Do you want him to draw ropes for you and he won't? Why you are going +the wrong way to work, you fool!' + +No one else in the whole ship would have dared to call the Captain +'You fool!' No one else could have done so without being put in +chains. But the jester might do as he liked. His business was to make +the Captain laugh; and at these words he did laugh. 'Show me the right +way to make him work, then,' said he. 'That I will gladly,' answered +the jester, 'we will have a bet. I will give you one golden guinea if +I cannot make him draw ropes, if you will give me another if I do +compel him to do so.' + +'Marry that I will,' answered the Captain, and forthwith the two +guineas were thrown down on the deck, rattling gaily, while all the +ship's company stood around to watch what should befall. + +'Then the jester called for two seamen and made them make two ropes +fast to the wrists of my arms, and reeved the ropes through two blocks +in the mizen shrouds on the starboard side, and hoisted me up aloft, +and made the ropes fast to the gunwale of the ship, and I hung some +time. Then the jester called the ship's company to behold, and bear +him witness, that he made the Quaker hale the king's ropes; so +veering the ropes they lowered me half-way down, then made me fast +again. "Now," said the jester, "noble Captain, you and the company see +that the Quaker haleth the king's ropes"; and with that he commanded +them to let fly the ropes loose, when I fell on the deck. "Now," said +the jester, "noble Captain, the wager is won. He haled the ropes to +the deck, and you can hale them no further, nor any man else."' + +Not a very good joke, was it? It seems to have pleased the rough +sailors since it set them a-laughing. But it was no laughing matter +for Richard Sellar to be set swinging in the air strung up by the +wrists, and then to be bumped down upon deck again, fast bound and +unable to move. The Captain did not laugh either. The thought of his +lost money made him feel savage. In a loud, angry voice he called to +the boatswain's mate and bade him, 'Take the quakerly dog away, and +put him to the capstan and make him work.' + +Only the jester laughed, and chuckled to himself, as he gathered up +the golden guineas from the deck, and slapped his thighs for pleasure +as he slipped them into his pockets. + +Meantime the boatswain's mate was having fine sport with the 'Quaker +dog,' as he carried out the Captain's orders. Calling the roughest +members of the crew to help him, they beat poor Richard cruelly, and +abused him as they dragged him down into the darkness below deck. + +'Then he went,' says Richard, 'and sat him down upon a chest lid, and +I went and sat down upon another beside him; then he fell upon me and +beat me again; then called his boy to bring him two lashings and he +lashed my arms to the capstan's bars and caused the men to heave the +capstan about; and in three or four times passing about the lashings +were loosed, no man knew how, nor when, nor could they ever be found, +although they sought them with lighted candles.' + +The sailors had tied their prisoner with ropes to the heavy iron wheel +in the stern of the boat called a capstan; so that as he moved he +would be obliged to drag it round and thus help to work the ship. They +had made their prisoner as fast as ever they could. Yet, somehow, here +he was free again, and his bonds had disappeared! The boatswain's mate +couldn't understand it, but he was determined to solve the mystery. He +sent for a Bible and made the sailors swear upon it in turn, in that +dark, ill-smelling den, that not one of them had loosed Richard. They +all swore willingly, but even that did not content the mate. He +thought they were lying, and would not let them go till he had turned +out all their pockets, and found that not one of them contained the +missing lashings that had mysteriously disappeared. Then, at last, +even the rough mate felt afraid. Richard seemed to be in his power and +defenceless: was he really protected by Something or Someone stronger +than any cruel men, the mate wondered? + +So he called the sailors round him again, and spoke to them as +follows: 'Hear what I shall say unto you; you see this is a wonderful +thing, which is done by an invisible hand, which loosed him, for none +of you could see his hands loosed, that were so near him. I suppose +this man' (said he) 'is called a Quaker, and for conscience' sake +refuseth to act, therefore I am afflicted, and do promise before God +and man that I will never beat, nor cause to be beaten, either Quaker +or any other man that doth refuse, for conscience' sake, to fight for +the king. And if I do, I wish I may lose my right hand.' That was the +promise of the boatswain's mate. + + * * * * * + +Three days later the Admiral of the whole fleet, Sir Edward Spragg, +came on board the _Royal Prince_. He was a very fine gentleman indeed. +At once every one began to tell him the same story: how they had +pressed a Quaker up at Scarborough in the North; how the Quaker had +refused to work, and had been given over to the boatswain's mate to be +flogged; how the boatswain's mate had fallen upon him and had beaten +him furiously, but now refused to lay a finger upon him, saying that +he would no longer beat a Quaker or any other man for conscience' +sake. + +'Send that boatswain's mate to me that he may answer for himself,' +said the Admiral. 'Why would you not beat the Quaker?' he demanded in +a terrible voice, when the boatswain's mate was brought before him. 'I +have beat him very sore,' the mate answered, 'I seized his arms to the +capstan bars, and forced them to heave him about, and beat him, and +then sat down; and in three or four times of the capstan's going +about, the lashings were loosed, and he came and sat down by me; then +I called the men from the capstan, and took them sworn, but they all +denied that they had loosed him, or knew how he was loosed; neither +could the lashings ever be found; therefore I did and do believe that +it was an invisible power which set him at liberty, and I did promise +before God and the company, that I would never beat a Quaker again, +nor any man else for conscience' sake.' The Admiral told the mate that +he must lose both his cane of office and his place. He willingly +yielded them both. He was also threatened with the loss of his right +hand. He held it out and said, 'Take it from me if you please.' His +cane was taken from him and he was displaced; but mercifully his right +hand was not cut off: that was only a threat. + +The Commander had now to find some one else to beat Richard Sellar. So +he gave orders to seven strong sailors (called yeomen) to beat Richard +whenever they met him, and to make him work. Beat him they did, till +they were tired; but they could not make him work or go against his +conscience, which forbade him in any way to help in fighting. Then an +eighth yeoman was called, the strongest of all. The same order was +given to him: 'Beat that Quaker as much as you like whenever you meet +him, only see that you make him work.' The eighth yeoman promised +gladly in his turn, and said, 'I'll make him!' He too beat Richard for +a whole day and a night, till he too grew weary and asked to be +excused. Then another wonderful thing happened, stranger even than the +disappearance of the lashings. After all these cruel beatings the +Commander ordered Richard's clothes to be taken off that he might see +the marks of the blows on his body. 'He caused my clothes to be stript +off,' Richard says, 'shirt and all, from my head to my waist downward; +then he took a view of my body to see what wounds and bruises I had, +but he could find none,--no, not so much as a blue spot on my skin. +Then the Commander was angry with them, for not beating me enough. +Then the Captain answered him and said, "I have beat him myself as +much as would kill an ox." The jester said he had hung me a great +while by the arms aloft in the shrouds. The men said they also had +beaten me very sore, but they might as well have beaten the main mast. +Then said the Commander, "I will cause irons to be laid upon him +during the king's pleasure and mine."' + +A marvellous story! After all these beatings, not a bruise or a mark +to be seen! Probably it is not possible now to explain how it +happened. Of course we might believe that Richard was telling lies all +the time, and that either the sailors did not beat him or that the +bruises did show. But why invent anything so unlikely? It is easier to +believe that he was trying to tell the truth as far as he could, even +though we cannot understand it. Perhaps his heart was so happy at +being allowed to suffer for what he thought right, that his body +really did not feel the cruel beatings, as it would have done if he +had been doing wrong and had deserved them. Or perhaps there are +wonderful ways, unknown to us until we experience them for ourselves, +in which God will, and can, and does protect His own true servants who +are trying to obey Him. That is the most comforting explanation. If +ever some one much bigger and stronger than we are tries to bully us +into doing wrong, let us remember that God does not save us _from_ +pain and suffering always; but He can save us _through_ the very worst +pain, if only we are true to Him. + +Anyhow, though Richard's beatings were over for the time, other +troubles began. He was 'put in irons,' heavily loaded with chains, a +punishment usually kept for the worst criminals, such as thieves and +murderers. All the crew were forbidden to bring him food and drink +even though he was beginning to be ill with a fever--the result of all +the sufferings he had undergone. Happily there was one kind, brave man +among the crew, the carpenter's mate. Although Sir Edward Spragg had +said that any one giving food to Richard would have to share his +punishment, this good man was not afraid, and did give the prisoner +both food and drink. All this time, Richard had been living on the +provisions that the two kind Friends, Thomasin Smales and Mary +Stringer, had sent him at Bridlington, having refused to eat the +king's food, as he could not do the king's work. + +Thankful indeed he must have felt when this kind carpenter's mate came +and squeezed up against him among a crowd of sailors, and managed to +pass some meat and drink out of his own pocket and into Richard's. His +new friend did this so cleverly that nobody noticed. Pleased with his +success, he whispered to Richard, 'I'll bring you some more every day +while you need food. You needn't mind taking things from me, for they +are all bought out of my own money, not the king's.' + +'What makes thee so good to me?' whispered back Richard. He was +weakened by fever and all unused to kindness on board the _Royal +Prince_. Very likely the tears came into his eyes and his voice +trembled as he spoke, though he had borne all his beatings unmoved. + +The carpenter's mate told him in reply that before he came on board, +both his wife and his mother had made him promise that if any Quakers +should be on the ship he would be kind to them. Also, that quite +lately he had had a letter from them asking him 'to remember his +promise, and be kind to Quakers, if any were on board.' How much we +should like to know what put it into the two women's hearts to think +of such a thing! Were they Quakers themselves, or had they Quaker +friends? Once more there is no answer but: 'God will, and can, and +does protect His own.' + +Unfortunately this kind man was sent away from the ship to do work +elsewhere, and for three days and nights Richard lay in his heavy +irons, with nothing either to eat or drink. Some sailors who had been +quarrelling in a drunken brawl on deck were thrown into prison and +chained up beside Richard. They were sorry for him and did their best +to help him. They even gave him something to drink when they were +alone, though for his sake they had to pretend that they were trying +to hurt and kill him when any of the officers were present. These +rough sailors pretended so well that one lieutenant, who had been +specially cruel to Richard before, now grew alarmed, and thought the +other prisoners really would kill the Quaker. + +He went up to Sir Edward's cabin and knocked at the door. 'Who is +there?' asked the cabin-boy. + +'I,' said the lieutenant, 'I want to speak to Sir Edward.' When he was +admitted he said, 'If it please your highness to remember that there +is a poor Quaker in irons yet, that was laid in two weeks since, and +the other prisoners will kill him for us.' + +'We will have a Court Martial,' thought Sir Edward, 'and settle this +Quaker's job once for all.' + +He told the lieutenant to go for the keys and let Richard out, and to +put a flag at the mizen-mast's head, and call a council of war, and +make all the captains come from all the other ships to try the Quaker. + +It was not yet eight o'clock on a Sunday morning. At the signal, all +the captains of all the other ships came hurrying on board the _Royal +Prince_, the Admiral's flag-ship. Richard was fetched up from his +prison and brought before this council of war--or Court Martial as it +would be called now. The Admiral sat in the middle, very grand indeed; +beside him sat the judge of the Court Martial, 'who,' says Richard, +'was a papist, being Governor of Dover Castle, who went to sea on +pleasure.' He probably looked grander still. Around these two sat the +other naval captains from the other ships. Opposite all these great +people was Quaker Richard, so weakened by fever and lame from his +heavy fetters that he could not stand, and had to be allowed to sit. +The Commander, to give Richard one more chance, asked him if he would +go aboard another ship, a tender with six guns. Richard's conscience +was still clear that he could have nothing to do with guns or +fighting. He said he would rather stay where he was and abide his +punishment. + +What punishment do you think the judge thought would be suitable for a +man who had committed only the crime of refusing to fight, or to work +to help those who were fighting? + +'The judge said I should be put into a barrel or cask _driven full of +nails with their points inward and so rolled to death_; but the +council of war taking it into consideration, thought it too terrible a +death and too much unchristianlike; so they agreed to hang me.' + +'Too much unchristianlike' indeed! The mere thought of such a +punishment makes us shiver. The Governor of Dover Castle, who +suggested it, was himself a Roman Catholic. History tells how fiercely +the Roman Catholics persecuted the Protestants in Queen Mary's reign, +when Cranmer, Ridley, Latimer, Hooper, and many others were burnt at +the stake for their religion. Since then times had changed, and when +the Protestants were in power they too had often persecuted the Roman +Catholics in their turn. Perhaps someone whom this 'papist' judge had +loved very much had been cruelly put to death, and perhaps that was +the reason he suggested this savage punishment for Quaker Richard. We +do not know how that may be. But we do know that cruelty makes +cruelty, on and on without end. The only real way to stop it, is to +turn right round and follow the other law, the blessed law, whereby +love makes love. + +Richard Sellar was only a rough, ignorant fisherman, but he had begun +to learn this lesson out of Christ's lesson book: and how difficult a +lesson it is, nobody knows who has not tried to carry it out. + +Richard heard his sentence pronounced, that he was to be hanged. When +he heard that he was being wrongfully accused of various crimes that +he had not committed, he longed to rise and justify himself, but he +could only sit or kneel because he was too weak to stand. In vain he +tried to rise, and tried to speak. He could neither move nor say a +word. He could not even say: 'I am innocent.' He could not even pray +to God to help him in his difficulty. Again he tried to rise, and then +suddenly in his utter weakness he felt God's power holding him, and a +Voice said quite distinctly, three times over, in his heart: 'BE +STILL--BE STILL--BE STILL.' + +'Which Voice,' says Richard, 'I obeyed and was comforted. Then I +believed God would arise. And when they had done speaking, then God +did arise, and I was filled with the power of God; and my spirit +lifted up above all earthly things; and wonderful strength was given +me to my limbs, and my heart was full of the power and wisdom of God; +and with glad tidings my mouth was opened, to declare to the people +the things God had made manifest to me. With sweat running down, and +tears trickling from my eyes, I told them, "The hearts of kings were +in the hand of the Lord; and so are both yours and mine; and I do not +value what you can do to this body, for I am at peace with God and all +men, and with you my adversaries. For if I might live an hundred and +thirty years longer, I can never die in a better condition: for the +Lord hath satisfied me, that He hath forgiven me all things in this +world; and I am glad through His mercy, that He hath made me willing +to suffer for His name's sake, and not only so, but I am heartily +glad, and do really rejoice, and with a seal in my heart to the same." +Then there came a man and laid his hand upon my shoulder, and said, +"Where are all thy accusers?" Then my eyes were opened, and I looked +about me, and they were all gone.' + +The Court Martial was over. Every one of the captains had disappeared. +His accusers were gone; but Richard's sentence remained, and was still +to be carried out on the following morning. One officer, the same +lieutenant who had been cruel to him before, was still unkind to him +and called him 'a hypocrite Quaker,' but many others on board ship did +their best to save him. + +First of all there came up an ancient soldier to the Admiral on the +quarter-deck. He 'loosed down his knee-strings, and put down his +stockings, and put his cap under his knees, and begged Sir Edward's +pardon three times' (this seems to have been the correct behaviour +when addressing the Admiral), and the ancient soldier said, 'Noble Sir +Edward, you know that I have served His Majesty under you many years, +both in this nation and other nations, by the sea, and you were always +a merciful man; therefore I do entreat you, in all kindness, to be +merciful to this poor man, who is condemned to die to-morrow; and only +for denying your order for fear of offending God, and for conscience' +sake; and we have but one man on board, out of nine hundred and +fifty--only one which doth refuse for conscience' sake; and shall we +take his life away? Nay, God forbid! For he hath already declared +that, if we take his life away there shall a judgment appear upon some +on board, within eight and forty hours; and to me it hath appeared; +therefore I am forced to come upon quarter-deck before you; and my +spirit is one with his; therefore I desire you, in all kindness, to +give me the liberty, when you take his life away, to go off on board, +for I shall not be willing to serve His Majesty any longer on board of +ship; so I do entreat you once more to be merciful to this poor +man--so God bless you, Sir Edward. I have no more to say to you.' + +Next came up the chief gunner--a more important man, for he had been +himself a captain--but he too 'loosed down his knee-strings, and did +beg the Admiral's pardon three times, being on his bare knees before +Sir Edward.' + +Then Sir Edward said, 'Arise up, gunner, and speak.' + +Whereupon the chief gunner answered, 'If it please your worship, Sir +Edward, we know you are a merciful man, and therefore I entreat you, +in all kindness, to be merciful to this poor man, in whom there +remains something more than flesh and blood; therefore I entreat you, +let us not destroy that which is alive; neither endeavour to do it; +and so God bless you, Sir Edward. I have no more to say to you.' Then +he too went away. + +It was all of no use. Richard had been sentenced by the Court Martial +to be hanged next morning, and hanged he must be. + +Only Sir Edward--pleased perhaps at being told so often that he was a +merciful man, and willing to show that he had some small idea of what +mercy meant--'gave orders that any that had a mind to give me victuals +might; and that I might eat and drink with whom I pleased; and that +none should molest me that day. Then came the lieutenant and sat down +by me, whilst they were at their worship; and he would have given me +brandy, but I refused. Then the dinner came up to be served, and +several gave me victuals to eat, and I did eat freely, and was kindly +entertained that day. Night being come, a man kindly proffered me his +hammock to lie in that night, because I had lain long in irons; and I +accepted of his kindness, and laid me down, and I slept well that +night.' + +'The next morning being come, it being the second day of the week, on +which I was to be executed, about eight o'clock in the morning, the +rope being reeved on the mizen-yard's arm; and the boy ready to turn +me off; and boats being come on board with captains from other ships, +that were of the council of war, who came on purpose to see me +executed; I was therefore called to come to be executed. Then, I +coming to the execution place, the Commander asked the council how +their judgment did stand now? So most of them did consent; and some +were silent. Then he desired me freely to speak my mind, if I had +anything to say, before I was executed. I told him I had little at +present to speak. So there came a man, and bid me to go forward to be +executed. So I stepped upon the gunwale, to go towards the rope. The +Commander bid me stop there, if I had anything to say. Then spake the +judge and said, "Sir Edward is a merciful man, that puts that heretic +to no worse death than hanging."' + +The judge, the Governor of Dover Castle, was, as we have heard, a +Roman Catholic. To him Sir Edward and Richard Sellar were both alike +heretics, one not much worse than the other, since both were outside +what he believed to be the only true Church.[38] Sir Edward knew this. +Therefore on hearing the word 'heretic' he turned sharp round to the +judge, 'What sayest thou?' Apparently the judge felt that he had been +unwise to speak his candid thoughts, for he repeated the sentence, +leaving out the irritating word 'heretic': 'I say you are a merciful +man that puts him to no worse death than hanging.' Sir Edward knew +that he had not been mistaken in the word his sharp ears had caught. +'But,' said he, 'what is the other word that thou saidst?' 'That +heretic,' repeated the judge. 'I say,' said the Commander, 'he is more +like a Christian than thyself; for I do believe thou wouldst hang me +if it were in thy power.' + +'Then said the Commander to me,' continues Richard, '"Come down again, +for I will not hurt an hair of thy head; for I cannot make one hair +grow." Then he cried, "Silence all men," and proclaimed it three times +over, that if any man or men on board of the ship would come and give +evidence that I had done anything that I deserved death for, I should +have it, provided they were credible persons. But no man came, neither +a mouth opened against me then. So he cried again, "Silence all men, +and hear me speak." Then he proclaimed that the Quaker was as free a +man as any on board of the ship was. So the men heaved up their hats, +and with a loud voice cried, "God bless Sir Edward, he is a merciful +man!" The shrouds and tops and decks being full of men, several of +their hats flew overboard and were lost.' + +We will say good-bye to Richard there, with all the sailors huzzaing +round him, throwing up their caps, and Sir Edward standing by with a +pleased smile, more pleased than ever now, since it was impossible for +any one to deny that he was a merciful, a most merciful man. The +change for Richard himself, from being a condemned criminal loaded +with chains to being a universal favourite, must have been startling +indeed, though his troubles were not over yet. Difficulties surrounded +him again when the actual battles with the Dutch began. But, though he +could not fight, and was therefore in perpetual danger, he could and +did help and heal. + +His story tells us how he was able to save the whole ship's company +from destruction more than once, and had more marvellous adventures +than there is time here to relate. He tells also how the persecuting +lieutenant became his fast friend, and eventually helped him to get +his freedom. + +For he did regain his liberty in the end, and was given a written +permission to go home and earn his living as a fisherman. With this +writing in his hand no press-crew would dare to kidnap him again. So +back he came to Scarborough, to the red-roofed cottage by the water's +edge, to his unmended nets, and to the little daughter with whom we +saw him first. Most likely at this time George Fox was still a +prisoner in the Castle. If so, one of the very first things Richard +did, we may be sure, was to climb the many stone steps up to the +Castle and seek his friend in his cheerless prison. The fire smoke and +the rain would be forgotten by both men as they talked together, and +George Fox's face would light up as he heard the story of the lashings +that disappeared and the beatings that left no bruise. He was not a +man who laughed easily, but doubtless he laughed once, at any rate, as +he listened to Richard's story, when he heard of the huzzaing sailors +whose hats fell off into the water because they were so energetically +sure that 'Sir Edward was a very merciful man.' + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[38] The Roman Catholic gentry used sometimes to alarm their +Protestant neighbours with blood-curdling announcements that the good +times of Queen Mary were coming back, and 'faggotts should be deere +yet' (G.M. Trevelyan, _England under the Stuarts_, p. 87). + + + + +XXVII. TWO ROBBER STORIES. WEST AND EAST + + + + + _'They were changed men + themselves, before they went out + to change others'--W. PENN, + Testimony to George Fox._ + + + _'But when He comes to reign, + whose right it is, then peace and + goodwill is unto all men, and no + hurt in all the holy mountain of + the Lord is seen.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'Wouldst thou love one who never died for thee,_ + _Or ever die for one who had not died for thee?_ + _And if God dieth not for Man and giveth not Himself_ + _Eternally for Man, Man could not exist, for Man is Love_ + _As God is Love. Every kindness to another is a little death_ + _In the Divine Image, nor can man exist but by brotherhood.'_ + _W. BLAKE, 'Jerusalem.'_ + + + _'England is as a family of + prophets which must spread over + all nations, as a garden of + plants, and the place where the + pearl is found which must enrich + all nations with the heavenly + treasure, out of which shall the + waters of life flow, and water all + the thirsty ground, and out of + which nation and dominion must go + the spiritually weaponed and armed + men, to fight and conquer all + nations and bring them to the + nation of God.'--Epistle of + Skipton General Meeting, 1660._ + + + + +XXVII. TWO ROBBER STORIES. WEST AND EAST + +I + +LEONARD FELL AND THE HIGHWAYMAN + + +In that same memorable summer of 1652 when George Fox first visited +Swarthmoor Hall and 'bewitched' the household there, he also met and +'bewitched' another member of the Fell family. This was one Leonard +Fell, a connection of the Judge, whose home was at Baycliff in the +same county of Lancashire. Thither George Fox came on his travels +shortly after his first visit to Swarthmoor, when only Margaret Fell +and her children were at home, and before his later visit after Judge +Fell's return. + +'I went to Becliff,' says the Journal, 'where Leonard Fell was +convinced, and became a minister of the everlasting Gospel. Several +others were convinced there and came into obedience to truth. Here the +people said they could not dispute, and would fain have put some +others to hold talk with me, but I bid them, "Fear the Lord and not in +a light way hold a talk of the Lord's words, but put the things in +practice."' + +Leonard Fell did indeed put his new faith 'in practice.' He left his +home and followed his teacher, sharing with him many of the perils and +dangers of his journeys in the Service of Truth. Up and down and +across the length and breadth of England the two men travelled side by +side along the hedgeless English roads. At first as they went along, +Leonard Fell watched George Fox with sharp eyes, in his dealings with +the different people they met on their journeys, in order to discover +how his teacher would 'put into practice' the central truth he +proclaimed: that in every man, however degraded, there remains some +hidden spark of the Divine. But put it in practice George Fox did, +till at length Leonard Fell, too, learned to look for 'that of God +within' every one he met, learned to depend upon finding it, and to be +able to draw it out in his turn. + +One day, Leonard was travelling in the 'Service of Truth,' not in +George Fox's company but alone, when, as he crossed a desolate moor on +horseback, he heard the thunderous sound of horses' hoofs coming after +him down the road. Looking round, he beheld a masked and bearded +highwayman, his figure enveloped in a long flowing cloak, rapidly +approaching on a far swifter horse than his own 'Truth's pony.' A +moment later, a pistol was drawn from the newcomer's belt and pointed +full at Leonard's head. + +'Another step and you are a dead man! Your money or your life, and be +quick about it!' said the highwayman, as he suddenly pulled the curb +and checked his foam-covered horse. At this challenge, Leonard +obediently pulled up his own steed with his left hand, while, with his +right, he drew out his purse and handed it over to the robber without +a word. + +The pistol still remained at full cock, pointed straight at his head. +'Your horse next,' demanded the stranger. 'It is a good beast. Though +not as swift as mine I can find a use for it in my profession. +Dismount; or I fire.' + +In perfect silence Leonard dismounted, making no objection, and gave +his horse's bridle into the highwayman's outstretched hand. Then at +last, the threatened pistol was lowered, and replaced in the robber's +belt. Throwing the folds of his long cloak over one shoulder, and +carefully adjusting his mask, that not a glimpse of either face or +figure should betray his identity, he prepared to depart, leaving his +victim penniless and afoot on the wide, desolate moor. But, though the +highwayman had now finished with the Quaker, the Quaker had by no +means finished with the highwayman. + +It was now Leonard's turn to be aggressive. Standing there on the +bleak road, alone and unarmed, Leonard Fell raised a warning hand, and +solemnly rebuked his assailant for his evil deeds. At the same time he +admonished him that it was not yet too late for him to repent and lead +a righteous life, before his hour for repentance should be forever +passed. + +This was a most surprising turn of events for the highwayman. At first +he listened silently, too much astonished to speak. Leonard however +did not mince matters, and before he had finished his exhortation the +other man was in a furious rage. Never before had any of his victims +treated him in this fashion. Curses, tears, despair, those were all to +be expected in his 'profession'; but this extraordinary man was +neither beseeching him for money nor swearing at him in anger. His +victim was merely giving a solemn, yet almost friendly warning to the +robber of his horse and of his gold. + +'You, you cowardly dog!' blustered Leonard's assailant. 'You let me +rob you of your purse and of your steed like a craven! You could not +even pluck up courage to defend yourself. Yet now, you actually dare +to stand and preach at ME, in the middle of the King's highway?' + +The pistol was out again with a flourish. This time Leonard faced it +calmly, making no movement to defend himself. + +'I would not risk my life to defend either my money or my horse,' he +answered, looking up straight at the muzzle with a steady eye, 'but I +will lay it down gladly, if by so doing I can save thy soul.' + +This unexpected answer was altogether too much for the highwayman. +Though his finger was already on the trigger of the pistol, that +trigger was never pulled. He sat motionless on his horse, staring +through the holes in his mask, down into the eyes of his intended +victim, as if he would read his inmost soul. + +This astonishing man, whom he had taken for a coward, was calmly ready +and was apparently quite willing to give his life--his life!--in order +to save his enemy's soul. The robber had almost forgotten that he had +a soul. His manhood was black and stained now by numberless deeds of +violence, by crimes, too many remembered and far more forgotten. Yet +he had once known what it was to feel tender and white and innocent. +He had certainly possessed a soul long ago. Did it still exist? +Apparently the stranger was convinced that it must, since he was +actually prepared to stake his own life upon its eternal welfare. +Surprising man! He really cared what became of a robber's soul. It was +impossible to wish to murder or even to steal from such an one. There +could not be another like him, the wide world over. He had best be +allowed to continue on his unique adventure of discovering souls, a +much more dangerous career it seemed to be than any mere everyday +highwayman's 'profession.' + +As these thoughts passed through the robber's mind, his hand sought +the folds of his cloak, and then drawing Leonard's purse forth from a +deep convenient pocket, he returned it to its owner, stooping over +him, as he did so, with a low and courtly bow. Next, putting the +horse's bridle also back into Leonard's hand, 'If you are such a man +as that,' the highwayman said, 'I will take neither your money nor +your horse!' + +A moment later, as if already ashamed of his impulsive generosity, he +set spurs to his horse and disappeared as swiftly as he had come. + +Leonard, meanwhile, remounting, pursued his way in safety, with both +his horse and his money once more restored to him. But more precious, +by far, than either, was the knowledge that his friend's teaching had +again been proved to be true. In his own experience he had discovered +that there really and truly is an Inward Light that does shine still, +even in the hearts of wicked men. Thus was Leonard Fell in his turn +enabled to 'put these things in practice.' + + +II + +ON THE ROAD TO JERUSALEM + +A few years later, on another desolate road, crossing another lonely +plain, another traveller met with a very similar adventure thousands +of miles away from England. Only this traveller's experiences were +much worse than Leonard Fell's. He was not only attacked by three +robbers instead of one alone, but this happened amid many other far +worse dangers and narrower escapes. Possibly he even looked back, in +after days, to his encounter with the robbers as one of the pleasanter +parts of his journey! + +This traveller's name was George Robinson, and he was an English +Quaker and a London youth. He has left the record of his experiences +in a few closely printed pages at the end of a very small book. + +'In the year 1657,' he writes, 'about the beginning of the seventh +month [September], as I was waiting upon the Lord in singleness of +heart, His blessed presence filled me and by the power of His Spirit +did command me to go unto Jerusalem, and further said to me, "Thy +sufferings shall be great, but I will bear thee over them all."' + +This was no easy journey for anyone in those days, least of all for a +poor man such as George Robinson. However, he set out obediently, and +went by ship to Leghorn in Italy. There he waited a fortnight until he +could get a passage in another ship bound for St. Jean d'Acre, on the +coast of Palestine, where centuries before Richard Coeur de Lion had +disembarked with his Crusaders. Innumerable other pilgrims had landed +there, since Richard's time, on their way to see the Holy Places at +Jerusalem. George Robinson refused to call himself a pilgrim, but he +had a true pilgrim's heart that no difficulties could turn back or +dismay. + +After staying for eight days in the house of a French merchant at +Acre, he set sail in yet a third ship that was bound for Joppa (or +Jaffa, as it is called now). 'But the wind rising against us,' +Robinson says in his narrative, 'we came to an anchor and the next +morning divers Turks came aboard, and demanded tribute of those called +Christians in the vessel, which they paid for fear of sufferings but +very unwillingly, their demands being very unreasonable, and in like +manner demanded of me, but I refusing to pay as according to their +demands, they threatened to beat the soles of my feet with a stick, +and one of them would have put his hand into my pocket, but the +chiefest of them rebuked him. Soon after they began to take me out of +the vessel to effect their work, but one of the Turks belonging to the +vessel speaking to them as they were taking me ashore, they let me +alone, wherein I saw the good Hand of God preserving me.... After +this, about three or four days we came to Joppa.' + +And there at Joppa (or Jaffa), where Jonah long ago had embarked for +Tarshish, and where Peter on the house-top had had his vision of the +great white sheet, our traveller landed. He proceeded straightway on +what he hoped would have been the last stage of his long journey to +Jerusalem. + +Alas! he was mistaken. A few pleasant hours of travel he had, as he +passed through the palm-groves that encircle the city of Jaffa, and +over the first few miles of dusty road that cross the famous Plain of +Sharon. Ever as he journeyed he could see the tall tower of Ramleh, +built by the Crusaders hundreds of years before, growing taller as he +approached, rising in the sunset like a rosy finger to beckon him +across the Plains. When he reached it, in the shadow of the tall Tower +enemies were lurking. Certain friars up at Jerusalem, in the hilly +country that borders the plain, had heard from their brethren at Acre +that a heretic stranger from England was coming on foot to visit the +Holy City. Now these friars, although they called themselves +Franciscans, were no true followers of St. Francis, the 'little poor +man of God,' that gentlest saint and truest lover of holy poverty and +holy peace. These Jerusalem friars had forgotten his teaching, and +lived on the gains they made off pilgrims; therefore, hearing that the +heretic stranger from heretic England was travelling independently and +not on a pilgrimage, they feared that he might spoil their business at +the Holy Shrines. Accordingly they sent word to their brethren, the +friars of Ramleh in the plain, to waylay him and turn him back as soon +as he had reached the first stage of his journey from Jaffa on the +coast. + +'The friars of Jerusalem,' says Robinson, 'hearing of my coming, gave +orders unto some there [at Ramleh] to stay me, which accordingly was +done; for I was taken and locked up in a room for one night and part +of the day following, and then had liberty to go into the yard, but as +a prisoner; in which time the Turks showed friendship unto me, one +ancient man especially, of great repute, who desired that I might come +to his house, which thing being granted, he courteously entertained +me.' + +Four or five days later there came down an Irish friar from Jerusalem +to see the prisoner. At first he spoke kindly to him, and greeted him +as a fellow-countryman, seeing that they both came from the distant +Isles of Britain, set in their silver seas. Presently it appeared, +however, that he had not come out of friendship, but as a messenger +from the friars at Jerusalem, to insist that the Englishman must make +five solemn promises before he could be allowed to proceed on his +journey. He must promise: + +'1. That he would visit the Holy Places [so the friar called them] as +other pilgrims did. + +2. And give such sums of money as is the usual manner of pilgrims. + +3. Wear such a sort of habit as is the manner of pilgrims. + +4. Speak nothing against the Turks' laws. + +5. And when he came to Jerusalem not to speak anything about +religion.' + +George Robinson had no intention of promising any one of these +things--much less all five. 'I stand in the will of God, and shall do +as He bids me,' was the only answer he would make, which did not +satisfy the Irish friar. Determined that his journey should not have +been in vain, and persuasion having proved useless, he sought to +accomplish his object by force. Taking his prisoner, therefore, he set +him on horseback, and surrounding him with a number of armed guards, +both horsemen and footmen, whom he had brought down from Jerusalem for +the purpose, he himself escorted George Robinson back for the second +time to Jaffa. There, that very day, he put him aboard a vessel on the +point of sailing for Acre. Then, clattering back with his guards +across the plain of Sharon, the Irish friar probably assured the +Ramleh friars that they had nothing more to fear from that heretic. + +Nothing could turn George Robinson from his purpose. He was still +quite sure that his Master had work for His servant to do in His Own +City of Jerusalem; and, therefore, to Jerusalem that servant must go. +He was obliged to stay for three weeks at Acre before he could find a +ship to carry him southwards again. He lodged at this time at the +house of a kind French merchant called by the curious name of Surrubi. + +'A man,' Robinson says, 'that I had never seen before (that I knew +of), who friendly took me into his house as I was passing along, where +I remained about twenty days.' + +Surrubi was a most courteous host to his Quaker visitor. He used to +say that he was sure God had sent him to his house as an honoured +guest. 'For,' he continued, 'when my own countrymen come to me, they +are little to me, but thee I can willingly receive.' 'The old man +would admire the Lord's doing in this thing, and he did love me +exceedingly much,' his visitor records gratefully. 'But the friars had +so far prevailed with the Consul that in twenty days I could not be +received into a vessel for to go to Jerusalem, so that I knew not but +to have gone by land; yet it was several days' journey, and I knew not +the way, not so much as out of the city, besides the great difficulty +there is in going through the country beyond my expression; yet I, not +looking at the hardships but at the heavenly will of our Lord, I was +made to cry in my heart, "Lord, Thy will be done and not mine." And so +being prepared to go, and taking leave of the tender old man, he +cried, "I should be destroyed if I went by land," and would not let me +go.' + +The friars had told the Consul that Robinson had refused to accept +their conditions, 'He will turn Turk,' they said, 'and be a devil.' +But, thanks to Surrubi's kindness and help, after much trouble +Robinson was at length set aboard another ship bound for the south. +And thus after bidding a grateful farewell to his host, he made a +quick passage and came for the second time to Jaffa. Again he set +forth on his last perilous journey. Only a few miles of fertile plain +to cross, only a few hours of climbing up the dim blue hills that were +already in view on the horizon, and then at last he should reach his +goal, the Holy City. + +Even yet it was not to be! This time his troubles began before ever he +came within sight of the tall Tower of Ramleh, under whose shadow his +enemies, the friars, were still lying in wait for him. He says that +having 'left the ship and paid his passage, and having met with many +people on the way, they peacefully passed him by until he had gone +about six miles out of Jaffa.' But on the long straight road that runs +like a dusty white ribbon across the wide parched Plain of Sharon, he +beheld three other figures coming towards him. Two of them rode on the +stately white asses used by travellers of the East. The third, a +person of less consequence, followed on foot. As they came nearer, our +traveller noticed that they all carried guns as well as fierce-looking +daggers stuck in their swathed girdles. However, arms are no unusual +accompaniments for a journey in that country, so Robinson still hoped +to be allowed to pass with a peaceable salutation. Instead of bowing +themselves in return, according to the beautiful Oriental custom, with +the threefold gesture that signifies 'My head, my lips, and my heart +are all at your service,' and the spoken wish that his day might be +blessed, the three men rushed at the English wayfarer and threw +themselves upon him, demanding money. One man held a gun with its +muzzle touching Robinson's breast, another searched his pockets and +took out everything that he could find, while the third held the +asses. 'I, not resisting them,' is their victim's simple account, +'stood in the fear of the Lord, who preserved me, for they passed +away, and he that took my things forth of my pockets put them up +again, taking nothing from me, nor did me the least harm. But one of +them took me by the hand and led me on my way in a friendly manner, +and so left me.... So I, passing through like dangers through the +great love of God, which caused me to magnify His holy name, came, +though in much weakness of body, to Ramleh.' + +At Ramleh worse dangers even than he had met with on his former visit +were awaiting him. Many more perils and hairbreadth escapes had yet to +be surmounted before he could say that his feet--his tired feet--had +stood 'within thy gates, O Jerusalem.' Throughout these later +hardships his faith must have been strengthened by the memory of his +encounter with the robbers, and the victory won by the everlasting +power of meekness. + +East or West, the Master's command can always be followed: the command +not to fight evil with evil, but to overcome evil with good. + +Leonard Fell was given his opportunity of 'putting in practice the +things he had learned' as he travelled in England. Our later pilgrim +had the honour of being tested in the Holy Land itself: + + 'In those holy fields, + Over whose acres walked those blessed feet, + Which [nineteen] hundred years ago were nailed + For our advantage on the bitter cross.' + + + + +XXVIII. SILVER SLIPPERS: OR A QUAKERESS AMONG THE TURKS + + + + + _'If romance, like laughter, is + the child of sudden glory, the + figure of Mary Fisher is the most + romantic in the early Quaker + annals.'--MABEL BRAILSFORD._ + + + _'Truly Mary Fisher is a precious + heart, and hath been very + serviceable here.'--HENRY FELL to + Margt. Fell. (Barbadoes, 1656.)_ + + + _'My dear Father ... Let me not be + forgotten of thee, but let thy + prayers be for me that I may + continue faithful to the end. If + any of your Friends be free to + come over, they may be + serviceable; here are many + convinced, and many desire to know + the way, so I rest.'--MARY FISHER + to George Fox. (Barbadoes, 1655.)_ + + + _'This English maiden would not be + at rest before she went in purpose + to the great Emperor of the Turks, + and informed him concerning the + errors of his religion and the + truth of hers.'--GERARD CROESE._ + + + _'Henceforth, my daughter, do + manfully and without hesitation + those things which by the ordering + of providence will be put into thy + hands; for being now armed with the + fortitude of the faith, thou wilt + happily overcome all thy + adversaries.'--CATHERINE OF SIENA._ + + + + +XXVIII. SILVER SLIPPERS: OR A QUAKERESS AMONG THE TURKS + +I + + +The Grand Turk had removed his Court from Constantinople. His +beautiful capital city by the Golden Horn was in disgrace, on account +of the growing disaffection of its populace and the frequent mutinies +of its garrison. For the wars of Sultan Mahomet against the Republic +of Venice were increasingly unpopular in his capital, whose treasuries +were being drained to furnish constant relays of fresh troops for +further campaigns. Therefore, before its citizens became even more +bankrupt in their allegiance than they already were in their purses, +the ancient Grand Vizier advised his young master to withdraw, for a +while, the radiance of his imperial countenance from the now sullen +city beside the Golden Horn. Thus it came about that in the late +autumn of 1657, Sultan Mahomet, accompanied by his aged minister, +suddenly departed with his whole Court, and took up his residence +close outside the still loyal city of Adrianople. His state entry into +that town was of surpassing splendour, since both the Sultan and his +Minister were desirous to impress the citizens, in order to persuade +them to open their purse-strings and reveal their hidden hoards. +Moreover, they were ever more wishful to dazzle and overawe the +Venetian Ambassador, Ballerino, who was still kept by them, +unrighteously, a prisoner in the said town. + +A full hour or more was the long cavalcade in passing over the narrow +stone bridge that spans the turbid Maritza outside the walls of +Adrianople. In at the great gate, and down the one, long, meandering +street of the city, the imperial procession wound, moving steadily and +easily along, since, an hour or two previously, hundreds of slaves had +filled up the cavernous holes in the roadway with innumerable barrel +loads of sawdust, in honour of the Sultan's arrival. Surrounded by +multitudes of welcoming citizens, the procession wound its way at +length out on the far side of the city. There, amid a semicircle of +low hills, clothed with chestnut woods, the imperial encampment of +hundreds and thousands of silken tents shone glistening in the +sun.[39] + +In one of the most splendid apartments of the Sultan's own most +magnificent pavilion, the two chief personages who presided over this +marvellous silken city might have been seen, deep in conversation, one +sultry evening in June 1658, a few months after the Court had taken +up its residence outside the walls of Adrianople. They formed a +strange contrast: the boy Sultan and his aged Grand Vizier, Kuprueli +the Albanian. Sultan Mahomet, the 'Grand Seignior' of the whole +Turkish Empire, was no strong, powerful man, but a mere stripling who +had been scarred and branded for life, some say even deformed, by an +attack made upon him in earliest infancy by his own unnatural father, +the Sultan Ibrahim. This cruel maniac (whose only excuse was that he +was not in possession of more than half his wits at the time) had been +seized with a fit of ungovernable rage against the ladies of his +harem, and in his fury had done his best to slay his own son and heir. +Happily he had not succeeded in doing more than maim the child, and, +before long, imprisonment and the bow-string put an end to his +dangerous career. But though the boy Sultan had escaped with his life, +and had now reached the age of sixteen years, he never attained to an +imposing presence. He has been described as 'a monster of a man, +deformed in body and mind, stupid, logger-headed, cruel, fierce as to +his visage,' though this would seem to be an exaggeration, since +another account speaks of him as 'young and active, addicted wholly to +the delight of hunting and to follow the chase of fearful and flying +beasts.' In order to have more leisure for these sports he was wont to +depute all the business of government to his Grand Vizier, the aged +Albanian chieftain Kuprueli, who now, bending low before his young +master, so that the hairs of his white beard almost swept the ground, +was having one of his farewell audiences before departing for the +battlefield. Kuprueli, though over eighty years of age, was about to +face danger for the sake of the boy ruler, who lounged luxuriously on +his cushions, glittering with jewels, scented and effeminate, with +sidelong, cunning glances and cruel lips. Yet even Sultan Mahomet, +touched by his aged Minister's devotion, had been fired with unwonted +generosity: 'Ask what you will and you shall have it, even unto the +half of my kingdom,' he was exclaiming with true Oriental fervour. + +The Grand Vizier again swept the ground with his long white beard, +protesting that he was but a humble dead dog in his master's sight, +and that one beam from the imperial eyes was a far more precious +reward than the gold and jewels of the whole universe. Nevertheless, +the Sultan detected a shade of hesitation in spite of the +magniloquence of this refusal. There was something the Grand Vizier +wished to ask. He must be yet further encouraged. + +'Thou hast a boon at heart; I read it in thy countenance,' the Sultan +continued, 'ask and fear not. Be it my fairest province for thy +revenues, my fleetest Arab for thy stable, my whitest Circassian +beauty for thine own, thou canst demand it at this moment without +fear.' So saying, as if to prove his words, he waved away with one +hand the Court Executioner who stood ever at his side when he gave +audience, ready to avenge the smallest slip in etiquette. + +The Grand Vizier looked on the ground, still hesitating and troubled, +'The Joy of the flourishing tree and the Lord of all Magnificence is +my Lord,' he answered slowly, 'the gift I crave is unworthy of his +bountiful goodness. How shall one small speck of dust be noticed in +the full blaze of the noonday sun? Yet, in truth, I have promised this +mere speck of dust, this white stranger woman, by the mouth of my +interpreter, that I would mention to my lord's sublimity her desire to +bask in the sunshine of his rays and----' + +'A white, stranger woman,' interrupted the Sultan eagerly, 'desiring +to see me? Nay, then, the boon is of thy giving, not of mine. Tell me +more! Yet it matters not. Were she beauteous as the crescent at even, +or ill-favoured as a bird of prey, she shall yet be welcome for thy +sake, O faithful Servant, be she a slave or a queen. Tell me only her +name and whence she comes.' + +Again the Grand Vizier made obeisance. 'Neither foul nor fair, neither +young nor old, neither slave nor queen,' he replied. 'She is in truth +a marvel, like to none other these eyes have seen in all their +fourscore years and more. Tender as the dewdrop is her glance; yet +cold as snow is her behaviour. Weak as water in her outward seeming; +yet firm and strong as ice is she in strength of inward purpose.' + +'Of what nation is this Wonder?' enquired the Sultan. 'She can +scarcely be a follower of the Prophet, on whom be peace, since thou +appearest to have gazed upon her unveiled countenance?' + +'Nay, herein is the greatest marvel,' returned the Minister, 'it is an +Englishwoman, come hither in unheard fashion over untrodden ways, with +a tale to tickle the ears. She tells my interpreter (who alone, as +yet, hath spoken with her) that her home is in the cold grey isle of +Britain. That there she dwelt many years in lowly estate, being indeed +but a serving-maid in a town called Yorkshire; or so my interpreter +understands. She saith that there she heard the voice of Allah +Himself, calling her to be His Minister and Messenger, heard and +straightway obeyed. Sayeth, moreover, that she hath already travelled +in His service beyond the utmost western sea, even to the new land +discovered by that same Cristofero of Genoa, whose fellow citizens are +at this hour dwelling in our city yonder. Sayeth that in that far +western land she hath been beaten and imprisoned. Yet, nevertheless, +she was forbidden to rest at home until she had carried her message +"as far to the East as to the West," or some such words. That having +thus already visited the land where sleeps the setting sun of western +skies, she craveth now an audience with the splendid morning Sun, the +light of the whole East; even the Grand Seignior, who is as the Shade +of God Himself.' + +'For what purpose doth she desire an audience?' enquired the Sultan +moodily. + +'Being a mere woman and therefore without skill, she can use only +simple words,' answered the Grand Vizier. '"Tell the Sultan I have +something to declare unto him from the Most High God," such is her +message; but who heedeth what a woman saith? "Never give ear to the +counsels and advices of woman" is the chiefest word inscribed upon the +heart of a wise king, as I have counselled ever. Yet, this once, +seeing that this maiden is wholly unlike all other women, it might be +well to let her bask in the rays of glory rather than turn her +unsatisfied away----.' The Vizier paused expectantly. The Sultan +remained looking down, toying with the pearl and turquoise sheath of +the dagger stuck in his girdle. 'A strange tale,' he said at last, 'it +interests me not, although I feel an unknown Power that forces me to +listen to thy words. Her name?' he suddenly demanded, lifting his eyes +once more to his Minister's face. + +'She gives it not,' returned the other, 'speaketh of herself as but a +Messenger, repeating ever, "Not I, but His Word." Yet my interpreter, +having caused enquiries to be made, findeth that those with whom she +lodgeth in the city do speak of her as Maree. Also, some peasants who +found her wandering on the mountains when the moon was full, and +brought her hither, speak of her by the name of Miriam. Marvelling at +the whiteness of her skin, they deem she is a witch or Moon Maiden +come hither by enchantment. Yet must she on no account be hurt or +disregarded, they say, since she is wholly guileless of evil spells, +and under the special protection of Issa Ben Miriam, seeing that she +beareth his mother's name.' + +The Sultan was growing impatient. 'A fit tale for ignorant peasants,' +he declared. 'Me it doth not deceive. This is but another English +vagabond sent hither by that old jackal Sir Thomas Bendish, their +Ambassador at Constantinople, to dog my footsteps even here, and +report my doings to him. I will not see her, were she ten times a +witch, since she is of his nation and surely comes at his behest.' + +'Let my lord slay his servant with his own hands rather than with his +distrust,' returned the Grand Vizier. 'Had she come from Sir Thomas +Bendish, or by his orders, straightway to him she should have +returned. She hath never even seen him, nor so much as set eyes on our +sacred city beside the Golden Horn. Had she gazed even from a distance +upon the most holy Mosque of the Sacred Wisdom at Constantinople, she +had surely been less utterly astonished at the sight of even our noble +Sultan Selim in this city.' So saying, the Grand Vizier turned to the +entrance of the pavilion, and gazed towards the town of Adrianople +lying in the plain beneath, beyond the poplar-bordered stream of the +Maritza. High above all other buildings rose the great Mosque of +Sultan Selim, with its majestic dome surrounded by slender +sky-piercing minarets. Its 999 windows shone glorious in the rays of +the setting sun:--Sultan Selim, the glory of Adrianople, the ruin of +the architect who schemed its wondrous beauty; since he, poor wretch, +was executed on the completion of the marvel, for this crime only, +that he had placed 999 windows within its walls, and had missed, +though but by one, the miracle of a full thousand. + +The Vizier continued: 'The woman declares she hath come hither on +foot, alone and unattended. Her tale is that she came by the sea from +the Isles of Britain with several companions (filled all of them with +the same desire to behold the face of the Sublime Magnificence) so far +as Smyrna; where, declaring their wish unto the English Consul there, +he, like a wise-hearted man, advised her and her companions "by all +means to forbear." + +'They not heeding and still urgently beseeching him to bring them +further on their journey, the Consul dissembled and used guile. +Therefore, the while he pretended all friendliness and promised to +help forward their enterprise, he in truth set them instead on board a +ship bound for Venice and no wise for Constantinople, hoping thereby +to thwart their purpose, and to force them to return to their native +land. Some of the company, discovering this after the ship had set +sail, though lamenting, did resign themselves to their fate. Only this +maid, strong in soul, would not be turned from her purpose, but +declared constantly that Allah, who had commanded her to come, would +surely bring her there where He would have her, even to the presence +of the Grand Seignior himself. And lo! even as she spoke, a violent +storm arose, the ship was driven out of her course and cast upon the +Island of Zante with its rugged peaks; and there, speaking to the +ship-master, she persuaded him to put her ashore on the opposite coast +of the mainland, even at the place known as the Black Mountain; and +thence she hath made her way hither on foot, alone, and hath met with +nothing but lovingkindness from young and old, so she saith, as the +Messenger of the Great King.' + +The Sultan's interest was aroused at last: 'Afoot--from the Black +Mountain!--incredible! A woman, and alone! It is a journey of many +hundreds of miles, and through wild, mountainous country. What proof +hast thou that she speaketh truly?' + +'My interpreter hath questioned her closely as to her travels. His +home is in that region, and he is convinced that she has indeed seen +the places she describes. Also, she carries ever in her breast a small +sprig of fadeless sea-lavender that groweth only on the Black Mountain +slopes, and sayeth that the sea captain plucked it as he set her +ashore, telling her that it was even as her courage, seeing that it +would never fade.' + +But the Sultan's patience was exhausted: 'I must see this woman and +judge for myself, not merely hear of her from aged lips,' he +exclaimed. 'Witch or woman--moonbeam or maiden--she shall declare +herself in my presence. Only, since she doth dare to call herself the +messenger of the Most High God, let her be accorded the honours of an +Ambassador, that all men may know that the Sultan duly regardeth the +message of Allah.' + + +II + +On a divan of silken cushions in the guest chamber of a house in the +city of Adrianople, a woman lay, still and straight. Midnight was long +past. Outside, the hot wind could be heard every now and then, +listlessly flapping the carved wooden lattice-work shutters of an +overhanging balcony built out on timber props over the river Maritza, +whose turbid waters surged beneath with steady plash. Inside, the +striped silken curtains were closely drawn. The atmosphere was stuffy +and airless, filled with languorous aromatic spices. + +Mary Fisher could not sleep: she lay motionless as the slow hours +passed; gazing into the darkness with wide, unseeing eyes, while she +thought of all that the coming day would bring. The end of her +incredible journey was at hand. The Grand Vizier's word was pledged. +The Grand Turk himself would grant her an audience before the hour of +noon, to receive her Message from the Great King. + +Her Message. Through all the difficulties and dangers of her journey, +that Message had sustained her. As she had tramped over steep mountain +ranges, or won a perilous footing in the water-courses of dry hillside +torrents, more like staircases than roads, thoughts and words had +often rushed unbidden to her mind and even to her lips. No +difficulties could daunt her with that Message still undelivered. Many +an evening as she lay down beneath the gnarled trees of an olive +grove, or cooled her aching feet in the waters of some clear stream, +far beyond any bodily refreshment the intense peace of the Message she +was sent to deliver had quieted the heart of the weary messenger. Only +now that her goal was almost reached, all power of speech or thought +seemed to be taken from her. But, though a candle may burn low, may +even for a time be extinguished, it still carries securely within it +the possibility of flame. Even so the Messenger of the Great King lay, +hour after hour, in the hot night silence; not sleeping, yet smiling: +physically exhausted, yet spiritually unafraid. + +The heat within the chamber became at length unbearably oppressive to +one accustomed, as Mary Fisher had been for weeks past, to sleeping +under the open sky. Stretching up a thin white arm through the scented +darkness, she managed to unfasten the silken cords and buttons of the +curtain above her, and to let in a rush of warm night air. It was +still too early for the reviving breeze to spring up that would herald +the approach of dawn: too early for even the earliest of the orange +hawks, that haunted the city in the daytime, to be awake. Cuddled +close in cosy nests under the wide eaves, their slumbers were +disturbed for a moment as Mary, half sitting up, shook the pierced +lattice-work of the shutters that formed the sides of her apartment. +Peering through the interstices of fragrant wood, she caught sight of +a wan crescent moon, just appearing behind a group of chestnut-trees +on the opposite hill above the river. + +The crescent moon! Her guide over sea and land! Had she not come half +round the world to proclaim to the followers of that same Crescent, a +people truly sitting in gross darkness, the message of the One true +Light? + +However long the midnight hours, dawn surely must be nigh at hand. +Before long, that waning Crescent must set and disappear, and the Sun +of Righteousness arise with healing in His wings. + +There lay the slumbering flame of her wondrous Message. The right +words wherewith to kindle that flame in the hearts of others would +surely be given when the right hour came, however unworthy the +Messenger. + +'As far as the East is from the West,' the weary woman thought to +herself, while the scenes of her wondrous journey across two +hemispheres rushed back unbidden to her mind--'even so far hath He +removed our transgressions from us.' + +At that moment, the eagerly awaited breeze of dawn passed over her hot +temples, soothing her like a friend. Refreshed and strengthened, she +lay down once more, still and straight; her smooth hair braided round +her head; her hands crossed calmly on her breast; in a repose as quiet +and austere, even upon those yielding Oriental cushions, as when she +lay upon her hard, narrow pallet bed at home. + +Before the first apricot flush of dawn crept up the eastern sky, Mary +Fisher had sunk into a tranquil sleep. + + +III + +It was broad daylight, though still early, when she awoke. Outside, +the garden behind the house was now a rippling sea of rose and scarlet +poppies, above which the orange hawks swooped or dived like copper +anchors, in the crisp morning air. Within doors, a slave girl stood +beside the divan in the guest chamber, clapping her hands gently +together to cause the white stranger to awake. But the chamber seemed +full of moonlight, although it was broad day. Had the waning crescent +retraced her footsteps, or left behind some of her chill beams? Mary +Fisher rubbed her eyes. She must surely be dreaming still! Then, +waking fully, she saw that the moon-like radiance came from a heap of +silvery gauze draperies, reflected in the emerald green tiles of the +floor and in the tall narrow mirrors that separated the lattice-work +shutters. + +A flowing robe of silver tissue was spread out over an ottoman in the +centre of the floor. The slave girl at her side was holding up a long +veil of shimmering silver, drawing it through her henna-stained +finger-tips, with low, gurgling cries of delight; then, stretching out +her arms wide, she spread the veil easily to their fullest extent. A +moment later, drawing a tiny ring from her finger, she had pressed the +veil as easily through the small golden circlet, so fine were the +silken folds. Then with significant gestures she explained that all +these treasures were for the stranger to wear instead of her own +apparel. With scornful glances from her dark almond-shaped eyes she +pointed disdainfully to Mary Fisher's own simple garments, which, at +her entrance, she had tossed contemptuously into a heap on the floor. + +The plain, grey, Quakeress's dress did indeed look simpler than ever +amid all the shining Oriental splendour. Worn too it was, and +travel-stained in places, though newly washed, carefully mended and +all ready for use. + +Mary Fisher had been a woman for many years before she became a +Quakeress. Nay more, she was a woman still. It is possible that, for +about the space of half a minute, she may have looked almost +regretfully at the silver tissue draperies and the gauze veil. + +Half a minute. Not longer! For her, a Messenger of the Great King, to +clothe herself in garments worn by Turkish women, unbelievers, +followers of the False Prophet, was impossible, not to be contemplated +for an instant. With the gentleness of complete decision she dismissed +the slave girl, who departed reluctantly towards the women's +apartments. In spite of the froth of shining, billowy folds with which +her arms were full, she turned round as she parted the striped, silken +hangings of the doorway and drew her dusky orange finger-tips in a +significant gesture across her slender brown throat. It was obvious +that the slave girl considered this refusal a very serious breach of +etiquette indeed! + +Left alone, Mary Fisher clothed herself, proudly and yet humbly, in +her own simple garments. Her body bore even yet the marks where cruel +scourgings in her youth had furrowed deep scars from head to waist. +Years ago thus had English Christians received her, when she and her +companion had been whipped until the blood ran down their backs +beneath the market cross at Cambridge. The two young girls were the +first of any of the Friends to be thus publicly scourged. 'This is but +the beginning of the sufferings of the people of God,' Mary had +exclaimed prophetically, as the first stroke of the lash fell on her +shoulders, while the assembled multitudes listened in amazement as the +two suffering women went on to pray for mercy on their persecutors. + +While here, in Adrianople, under the Crescent, the Infidel Turk, to +whom she had come in the power of the very same Message for which she +had suffered in Christian countries, was receiving her with kindness +and respect, offering to clothe her body in sumptuous apparel, instead +of with bloody scars.... + +Mary Fisher sighed with irrepressible pain at the thought. Looking +down, the marks left by the stocks were also plainly visible under the +sunburn round her ankles, as she stood, bare-footed, on the crimson +rug. She gladly covered up those tell-tale tokens under her white +stockings. But where were her shoes? They seemed to have disappeared. +Although the few strips of worn leather that she had put off the night +before had been scarcely worthy of the name of shoes, their +disappearance might be a grave difficulty. Had they been taken away in +order to force her to appear bare-footed before the Sultan? + +Ah!--here the slave girl was reappearing. Kneeling down, with a +triumphant smile she forced the Englishwoman's small, delicate +feet--hardened, it is true, by many hundreds of miles of rough +travelling, but shapely still--into a little pair of embroidered +silver slippers. Turkish slippers! glistening with silver thread and +crystal beads, turned up at the pointed toes, and finished by two +silver tufted tassels, that peeped out incongruously from under the +straight folds of the simple grey frock. + +This time Mary Fisher yielded submissively and made not the slightest +resistance. It did not matter to her in the least how her feet were +shod, so long as they were shod in some way, and she was saved from +having to pay a mark of homage to the Infidel. As she sat with folded +hands on the divan, awaiting the summons of the Grand Vizier, her deep +eyes showed that her thoughts were far, far away from any Silver +Slippers. + + +IV + +'Mahomet, sone of the Emperour, sone of God, thrice heavenly and +thrice known as the renowned Emperour of the Turks, King of Greece, +Macedonia and Moldavia, King of Samaria and Hungary, King of Greater +and Lesser Egypt, King of all the inhabitants of the Earth and the +Earthly Paradise, Guardian of the Sepulchre of thy God, Lord of the +Tree of Life, Lord of all the Emperours of the World from the East +even to the West, Grand Persecutor of the Christians and of all the +wicked, the Joy of the flourishing Tree' ... and so forth and so on. + +The owner of all these high-sounding titles was hunched up on his +cushions in the State Pavilion. 'On State occasions, among which it is +evident that he included this Quaker audience, he delighted to deck +his unpleasing person in a vest of cloth of gold, lined with sable of +the richest contrasting blackness. Around him were ranged the servants +of the Seraglio--the highest rank of lacqueys standing nearest the +royal person, the "Paicks" in their embroidered coats and caps of +beaten gold, and the "Solacks," adorned with feathers, and armed with +bows and arrows. Behind them were grouped great numbers of eunuchs and +the Court pages, carrying lances. These wore the peculiar coiffure +permitted only to those of the royal chamber, and above their tresses +hung long caps embroidered with gold. + +'Mary Fisher was ushered into this brilliant scene with all the +honours usually accorded to an Ambassador: the Sultan's dragomans +accompanied her and stood waiting to interpret at the interview. She +was at this time about thirty-five years of age, "a maid ... whose +intellectual faculties were greatly adorned by the gravity of her +deportment." ... She must have stood in her simple grey frock, amidst +that riot of gold and scarlet, like a lily in a garden of tulips, her +quiet face shining in that cruel and lustful place with the joy of a +task accomplished, and the sense of the presence of God.'[40] + +Thus she stood, at the goal of her journey at last, in the presence of +the Grand Turk, she the Messenger of the Great King. There was the +Grand Turk, resplendent in his sable and cloth of gold. Opposite to +him stood the gentle Quakeress, in her plain garment of grey Yorkshire +frieze with its spotless deep collar and close-fitting cap of snowy +lawn. Only the Message was wanting now. + +At first no Message came. + +The Sultan, thinking that the woman before him was naturally alarmed +by such unwonted magnificence, spoke to her graciously. 'He asked by +his interpreters (whereof there were three with him) whether it was +true what had been told him that she had something to say to him from +the Lord God. She answered, "Yea." Then he bade her speak on: and she +not being forward, weightily pondering what she might say. "Should he +dismiss his attendants and let her speak with him in the presence of +fewer listeners?" the Grand Turk asked her kindly.' Again came an +uncourtly monosyllabic 'No,' followed by another baffling silence. + +The executioner, a hook-nosed Kurd with eyes like a bird of prey, +stationed, as always, at the Sultan's right hand, began to look at the +slight woman in grey with a professional interest. He felt the edge of +his blade with a skilful thumb and fore-finger, and turned keen eyes +from the slender throat of the Quakeress, rising above the folds of +snowy lawn, to the aged neck of the Grand Vizier half hidden by his +long white beard. There might be a double failure in etiquette to +avenge, should the Sultan's pleasure change and this unprecedented +interview prove a failure! The executioner smacked his cruel lips with +pleasure at the thought, looking, in his azalea-coloured garment, like +an orange hawk himself, all ready to pounce on his victims. + +Still Silence reigned:--a keen silence more piercing than the sharpest +Damascene blade. It was piercing its way into one heart already. Not +into the heart of the aged Grand Vizier. The Grand Vizier was frankly +bored, and was, moreover, beginning to be strangely uneasy at his +_protegee's_ unaccountable behaviour. He turned to his interpreter +with an enquiring frown. The interpreter looked yet more +uncomfortable--even terrified. Approaching his master, he began to +whisper profound apologies into his ear, how that he ought to have +warned him that this might happen; the woman had in truth confessed +that she could not tell when the Message would be sent, nor could she +give it a moment before it came: 'Sayeth indeed that her Teacher in +this strange faith hath been known to keep an assembly of over 1000 +people waiting for a matter of three hours, in order to "famish them +from words," not daring to open his lips without command.' + +'Thou shouldest indeed have mentioned this before! Allah grant that +this maiden keepeth us not here so long,' retorted the Grand Vizier, +with a scowl of natural impatience, seeing that he was to set forth on +his journey to the battle-field that very day, and that moments were +growing precious, even in the timeless East. Then, turning to the +Sultan, he in his turn began to pour out profuse explanations and +apologies. The uncouth, misshapen figure on the central divan, +however, paid scant heed to his Minister. Right into the fierce, +cruel, passionate heart of Sultan Mahomet that strange silence was +piercing: piercing as no words could have done, through the crust +formed by years of self-seeking and sin, piercing, until it found, +until it quickened, 'That of God within.' + +What happened next must be told in the historian Sewel's own words, +since he doubtless heard the tale from the only person who could tell +it, Mary Fisher herself. + +'The Grand Turk then bade her speak the word of the Lord to them and +not to fear, for they had good hearts and could hear it. He also +charged her to speak the word she had to say from the Lord, neither +more nor less, for they were willing to hear it, be it what it would. +_Then she spoke what was upon her mind._' + +She never says what it was. The Message, once delivered, could never +be repeated. + +'The Turks hearkened to her with much attention and gravity until she +had done; and then, the Sultan asking her whether she had anything +more to say? she asked him whether he understood what she had said? +He answered, "Yes, every word," and further said that what she had +spoken was truth. Then he desired her to stay in that country, saying +that they could not but respect such an one, as should take so much +pains to come to them so far as from England with a message from the +Lord God. He also proffered her a guard to bring her into +Constantinople, whither she intended. But she, not accepting this +offer, he told her it was dangerous travelling, especially for such an +one as she: and wondered that she had passed safe so far as she had, +saying also that it was in respect for her, and kindness, that he +proffered it, and that he would not for anything she should come to +the least hurt in his dominions. She having no more to say, the Turks +asked her what she thought of their prophet Mahomet? She answered +warily that she knew him not, but Christ the true prophet, the Son of +God, who was the Light of the World, and enlightened every man coming +into the world, Him she knew. And concerning Mahomet, she said that +they might judge of him to be true or false according to the words and +prophecies he spoke; saying further, "If the word of a prophet shall +come to pass, then shall ye know that the Lord hath sent that prophet: +but if it come not to pass, then shall ye know that the Lord never +sent him." The Turks confessed this to be true, and Mary, having +performed her message, departed from the camp to Constantinople +without a guard, whither she came without the least hurt or scoff....' + + +V + +Thus Mary returned safe to England, where, if not romance, at any rate +solid happiness awaited her in the shape of a certain William Bayly. +He, a Quaker preacher and master mariner, having been himself a great +traveller and having endured repeated imprisonments in distant +countries, could appreciate the courage and success of her +unprecedented journey. At any rate, as the historian quaintly tells +us, he 'thought her worthy to make him a second wife.' + +A few months after her return to England, but while she was still +unmarried, Mary Fisher wrote the following account of her travels to +some of the friends in whose company she had suffered imprisonment in +former days before her great journey. + + 'My dear love salutes you all in one, you have been often in my + remembrance since I departed from you, and being now returned + into England and many trials, such as I was never tried with + before, yet have borne my testimony for the Lord before the King + unto whom I was sent, and he was very noble unto me, and so were + all they that were about him: he and all that were about him + received the word of truth without contradiction. They do dread + the name of God, many of them, and eyes His messengers. There is + a royal seed amongst them which in time God will raise. They are + more near truth than many Nations, there is a love begot in me + towards them which is endless, but this is my hope concerning + them, that He who hath raised me to love them more than many + others will also raise His seed in them unto which my love is. + Nevertheless, though they be called Turks, the seed of them is + near unto God, and their kindness hath in some measure been + shewn towards His servants. After the word of the Lord was + declared unto them, they would willingly have me to stay in the + country, and when they could not prevail with me, they + proffered me a man and a horse to go five days' journey that was + to Constantinople, but I refused and came safe from them. The + English are more bad, most of them, yet hath a good word gone + through them, and some have received it, but they are few: so I + rest with my dear love to you all--Your dear sister, MARY + FISHER.' + + +VI + +Forty years later, in 1697, an aged woman was yet alive at Charlestown +in America, who was still remembered as the heroine of the famous +journey so many years before. Although twice widowed since then, and +now with children and grandchildren around her, she was spoken of to +the end by her maiden name. A shipwrecked visitor from the other side +of the Atlantic describes her in his letters home as 'one whose name +you have heard of, Mary Fisher, she that spoke to the Grand Turk.' + +In the dwelling of that ancient widow, however old she grew, however +many other relics she kept--remembrances of her two husbands, of +children and grandchildren--between the pages of her well-worn Bible +was there not always one pressed sprig of the fadeless sea-lavender +that grows on the rocky shores of the Black Mountain? And, somewhere +or other, in the drawer of an inlaid cabinet or work-table there must +have been also one precious packet, carefully tied up with ribbon and +silver paper, in which some favourite grandchild, allowed for a treat +to open it, would find, to her indescribable delight, a little +tasselled pair of Turkish + + SILVER SLIPPERS. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[39] A certain Englishman, Paul Rycaut by name, has left a description +of this encampment as he saw it on his visit a short time afterwards. +'The tents were raised on a small hill, and about 2000 in number, +ranged at that time without order, only the Grand Signior's seemed to +be in the midst to overtop all the rest, well worthy observation, +costing (as was reported) 180,000 dollars, richly embroidered in the +inside with gold. Within the walls of this tent (as I may so call +them) were all sorts of offices belonging to the Seraglio, apartments +for the pages, chiosks or summer-houses for pleasure, and though I +could not get admittance to view the innermost rooms and chambers, yet +by the outward and more common places of resort I could make a guess +at the richness of the rest, being sumptuous beyond comparison of any +in use among Christian princes. On the right hereof was pitched the +Grand Vizier's tent, exceeding rich and lofty, and had I not seen that +of the Sultan before it, I should have judged it the best that mine +eyes had seen. The ostentation and richness of this empire being +evidenced in nothing more than the richness of their pavilions, +sumptuous beyond the fixed palaces of princes, erected with marble and +mortar.' + +[40] _Quaker Women_, by Mabel R. Brailsford. + + + + +XXIX. FIERCE FEATHERS + + + + + _'We who were once slayers of one + another do not now fight against our + enemies.'--JUSTIN MARTYR. A.D. 140._ + + + _'Victory that is gotten by the + sword is a victory slaves get one + over the other; but victory + contained by love is a victory for + a king.'--GERRARD WINSTANLEY. 1649._ + + + _'Here you will come to love God + above all, and your neighbours as + yourselves. Nothing hurts, nothing + harms, nothing makes afraid on + this holy mountain.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'My friends that are gone or are + going over to plant and make + outward plantations in America, + keep your own plantations in your + hearts with the spirit and power + of God, that your own vines and + lilies be not hurt.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'Take heed of many words, what + reaches to the life settles in the + life. That which cometh from the + life and is received from God, + reaches to the life and settles + others in the life.'--G. FOX._ + + + _'An old Indian named Papunehang + appreciated the spirit and + atmosphere of a Friends' meeting, + even if he did not comprehend the + words, telling the interpreter + afterwards, "I love to feel where + words come from."'--A.M. GUMMERE + (from John Woolman's Journal)._ + + + + +XXIX. FIERCE FEATHERS + + +The sunlight lay in patches on the steep roof of the Meeting-house of +Easton Township, in the County of Saratoga, in the State of New York. +It was a bright summer morning in the year 1775. The children of +Easton Township liked their wooden house, although it was made only of +rough-hewn logs, nailed hastily together in order to provide some sort +of shelter for the worshipping Friends. They would not, if they could, +have exchanged it for one of the more stately Meeting-houses at home +in England, on the other side of the Atlantic. There, the windows were +generally high up in the walls. English children could see nothing +through the panes but a peep of sky, or the topmost branches of a tall +tree. When they grew tired of looking in the branches of the tree for +an invisible nest that was not there, there was nothing more to be +hoped for, out of those windows. The children's eyes came back inside +the room again, as they watched the slow shadows creep along the +white-washed walls, or tried to count the flies upon the ceiling. But +out here in America there was no need for that. The new Meeting-house +of Easton had nearly as many possibilities as the new world outside. +To begin with, its logs did not fit quite close together. If a boy or +girl happened to be sitting in the corner seat, he or she could often +see, through a chink, right out into the woods. For the untamed +wilderness still stretched away on all sides round the newly-cleared +settlement of Easton. + +Moreover, there were no glass windows in the log house as yet, only +open spaces provided with wooden shutters that could be closed, if +necessary, during a summer storm. Another larger, open space at one +end of the building would be closed by a door when the next cold +weather came. At present the summer air met no hindrance as it blew in +softly, laden with the fragrant scents of the flowers and pine-trees, +stirring the children's hair as it lightly passed. Every now and then +a drowsy bee would come blundering in by mistake, and after buzzing +about for some time among the assembled Friends, he would make his +perilous way out again through one of the chinks between the logs. The +children, as they sat in Meeting, always hoped that a butterfly might +also find its way in, some fine day--before the winter came, and +before the window spaces of the new Meeting-house had to be filled +with glass, and a door fastened at the end of the room to keep out the +cold. Especially on a mid-week Meeting like to-day, they often found +it difficult to 'think Meeting thoughts' in the silence, or even to +attend to what was being said, so busy were they, watching for the +entrance of that long desired butterfly. + +For children thought about very much the same kind of things, and had +very much the same kind of difficulties in Meeting, then as now; even +though the place was far away, and it is more than a hundred years +since that sunny morning in Easton Township, when the sunlight lay in +patches on the roof. + +It was not only the children who found silent worship difficult that +still summer morning. There were traces of anxiety on the faces of +many Friends and even on the placid countenances of the Elders in +their raised seats in the gallery. There, at the head of the Meeting, +sat Friend Zebulon Hoxie, the grandfather of most of the children who +were present. Below him sat his two sons. Opposite them, their wives +and families, and a sprinkling of other Friends. The children had +never seen before one of the stranger Friends who sat in the gallery +that day, by their grandfather's side. They had heard that his name +was Robert Nisbet, and that he had just arrived, after having walked +for two days, thirty miles through the wilderness country to sit with +Friends at New Easton at their mid-week Meeting. The children had no +idea why he had come, so they fixed their eyes intently on the +stranger and stirred gently in their seats with relief when at last he +rose to speak. They had liked his kind, open face as soon as they saw +it. They liked still better the sound of the rich, clear voice that +made it easy for even children to listen. But they liked the words of +his text best of all: 'The Beloved of the Lord shall dwell in safety +by Him. He shall cover them all the day long.' + +Robert Nisbet lingered over the first words of his message as if they +were dear to him. His voice was full and mellow, and the words seemed +as if they were part of the rich tide of summer life that flowed +around. He paused a moment, and then went on, 'And now, how shall the +Beloved of the Lord be thus in safety covered? Even as saith the +Psalmist, "He shall cover thee with His feathers and under His wings +shalt thou trust."' Then, changing his tones a little and speaking +more lightly, though gravely still, he continued: 'You have done well, +dear Friends, to stay on valiantly in your homes, when all your +neighbours have fled; and therefore are these messages sent to you by +me. These promises of covering and of shelter are truly meant for +you. Make them your own and you shall not be afraid for the terror by +night, nor for the arrow that flieth by day.' + +Here the boys and girls on the low benches under the gallery looked at +one another. Now they knew what had brought the stranger! He had come +because he had heard of the danger that threatened the little clearing +of settlers in the woods. For though New Easton and East Hoosack lay +thirty miles apart they were both links in the long chain of Quaker +Settlements that had been formed to separate the territory belonging +to the Dutch Traders (who dwelt near the Hudson River) from the +English Settlements along the valley of the Connecticut. In former +days disputes between the Dutch and English Colonists had been both +frequent and fierce, until at length the Government had conceived the +brilliant idea of establishing a belt of neutral ground between the +disputants, and peopling it with unwarlike Quakers. The plan worked +well. The Friends, in their settlements strung out over a long, narrow +strip of territory, were on friendly terms with their Dutch and +English neighbours on either side. Raids went out of fashion. Peace +reigned, and for a time the authorities were well content. + +A fiercer contest was now brewing, no longer between two handfuls of +Colonists but between the inhabitants of two great Continents. For it +was just before the outbreak of the Revolutionary War of 1775. The +part of the country in which Easton Township was situated was already +distressed by visits of scouting parties from both British and +American armies, and the American Government, unable to protect the +inhabitants, had issued a proclamation directing them to leave the +country. This was the reason that all the scattered houses in the +neighbourhood were deserted, save only the few tenanted by the handful +of Friends. + +'You did well, Friends,' the speaker continued, 'well to ask to be +permitted to exercise your own judgment without blame to the +authorities, well to say to them in all courtesy and charity, "You are +clear of us in that you have warned us"--and to stay on in your +dwellings and to carry out your accustomed work. The report of this +your courage and faith hath reached us in our abiding place at East +Hoosack, and the Lord hath charged me to come on foot through the +wilderness country these thirty miles, to meet with you to-day, and to +bear to you these two messages from Him, "The Beloved of the Lord +shall dwell in safety by Him," and "He shall cover thee with His +feathers all the day long."' + +The visitor sat down again in his seat. The furrowed line of anxiety +in old Zebulon Hoxie's high forehead smoothed itself away; the eyes of +one or two of the younger women Friends filled with tears. As the +speaker's voice ceased, little Susannah Hoxie's head, which had been +drooping lower and lower, finally found a resting-place, and was +encircled by her mother's arm. Young Mrs. Hoxie drew off her small +daughter's shady hat, and put it on the seat beside her, while she +very gently stroked back the golden curls from the child's high +forehead. In doing this she caught a rebuking glance from her elder +daughter, Dinah. + +'Naughty, naughty Susie, to go to sleep in Meeting,' Dinah was +thinking; 'it is very hot, and _I_ am sleepy too, but _I_ don't go to +sleep. I do wish a butterfly would come in at the window just for +once--or a bird, a little bird with blue, and red, and pink, and +yellow feathers. I liked what that stranger Friend said about being +'covered with feathers all the day long.' I wish I was all covered +with feathers like a little bird. I wish there were feathers in +Meeting, or anywhere close outside.' She turned in her corner seat and +looked through the slit in the wall--why there were feathers close +outside the wall of the house, red, and yellow, and blue, and pink! +What could they be? Very gently Dinah moved her head, so that her eye +came closer to the slit. But, when she looked again, the feathers had +mysteriously disappeared--nothing was to be seen now but a slight +trembling of the tree branches in the wilderness woods at a little +distance. + +In the mean while her brother, Benjamin Hoxie, on the other low seat +opposite the window, was also thinking of the stranger's sermon. 'He +said it was a valiant thing to do, to stop on here when all the +neighbours have left. I didn't know Friends could do valiant things. I +thought only soldiers were valiant. But if a scouting party really did +come--if those English scouts suddenly appeared, then even a Quaker +boy might have a chance to show that he is not necessarily a coward +because he does not fight.' Benjamin's eyes strayed also out of the +open window. It was very hot and still in the Meeting-house. Yet the +bushes certainly were trembling. How strange that there should be a +breeze there and not here! 'Thou shall not be afraid for the arrow +that flieth by day,' he thought to himself. 'Well, there are no arrows +in this part of the country any longer, now that they say all the +Indians have left. I wonder, if I saw an English gun pointing at me +out of those bushes, should I be afraid?' + +But it was gentle Mrs. Hoxie, with her arm still round her baby +daughter, who kept the stranger's words longest in her heart. 'Shall +dwell in safety by Him,--the Beloved of the Lord,' she repeated to +herself over and over again, 'yet my husband hath feared for me, and +we have both been very fearful for the children. Truly, we have known +the terror by night these last weeks in these unsettled times, even +though our duty was plainly to stay here. Why were we so fearful? we +of little faith. "The Beloved of the Lord shall dwell in safety by +Him. He shall cover him with His feathers all the day long."' + +And then, in her turn, Mrs. Hoxie looked up, as her little daughter +had done, and saw the same three tall feathers creeping above the sill +of the open Meeting-house window frame. For just one moment her heart, +that usually beat so calmly under her grey Quaker robe, seemed to +stand absolutely still. She went white to the lips. Then 'shall dwell +in safety by Him,' the words flashed back to her mind. She looked +across to where her husband sat--an urgent look. He met her eyes, read +them, and followed the direction in which she gazed. Then he, too, saw +the feathers--three, five, seven, nine, sticking up in a row. Another +instant, and a dark-skinned face, an evil face, appeared beneath them, +looking over the sill. The moment most to be dreaded in the lives of +all American settlers--more terrible than any visit from civilised +soldiers--had come suddenly upon the little company of Friends alone +here in the wilderness. An Indian Chief was staring in at their +Meeting-house window, showing his teeth in a cruel grin. In his hand +he held a sheaf of arrows, poisoned arrows, only too ready to fly, and +kill, by day. + +All the assembled Friends were aware of his presence by this time, and +were watching the window now, though not one of them moved. Mrs. Hoxie +glanced towards her other little daughter, and saw to her great relief +that Dinah too had fallen asleep, her head against the wooden wall. +Dinah and Susie were the two youngest children in Meeting that +morning. The others were mostly older even than Benjamin, who was +twelve. They were, therefore, far too well-trained in Quaker stillness +to move, for any Indians, until the Friends at the head of the Meeting +should have shaken hands and given the signal to disperse. +Nevertheless, the hearts of even the elder girls were beating very +fast. Benjamin's lips were tightly shut, and with eyes that were +unusually bright he followed every movement of the Indian Chief, who, +as it seemed in one bound and without making the slightest noise, had +moved round to the open doorway. + +There he stood, the naked brown figure, in full war-paint and +feathers, looking with piercing eyes at each man Friend in turn, as if +one of them must have the weapons that he sought. But the Friends were +entirely unarmed. There was not a gun, or a rifle, or a sword to be +found in any of their dwelling-houses, so there could not be any in +their peaceful Meeting. + +A minute later, a dozen other Redskins, equally terrible, stood beside +the Chief, and the bushes in the distance were quite still. The bushes +trembled no longer. It was Benjamin who found it hard not to +tremble now, as he saw thirteen sharp arrows taken from their quivers +by thirteen skinny brown hands, and their notches held taut to +thirteen bow-strings, all ready to shoot. Yet still the Friends sat +on, without stirring, in complete silence. + +[Illustration: FIERCE FEATHERS] + +Only Benjamin, turning his head to look at his grandfather, saw +Zebulon Hoxie, the patriarch of the Meeting, gazing full at the Chief, +who had first approached. The Indian's flashing eyes, under the matted +black eyebrows, gazed back fiercely beneath his narrow red forehead +into the Quaker's calm blue eyes beneath the high white brow and snowy +hair. No word was spoken, but in silence two powers were measured +against one another--the power of hate, and the power of love. For +steady friendliness to his strange visitors was written in every line +of Zebulon Hoxie's face. + +The children never knew how long that steadfast gaze lasted. But at +length, to Benjamin's utter astonishment, for some unknown reason the +Indian's eyes fell. His head, that he had carried high and haughtily, +sank towards his breast. He glanced round the Meeting-house three +times with a scrutiny that nothing could escape. Then, signing to his +followers, the thirteen arrows were noiselessly replaced in thirteen +quivers, the thirteen bows were laid down and rested against the wall; +many footsteps, lighter than falling snow, crossed the floor; the +Indian Chief, unarmed, sat himself down in the nearest seat, with his +followers in all their war-paint, but also unarmed, close round him. + +The Meeting did not stop. The Meeting continued--one of the strangest +Friends' Meetings, surely, that ever was held. The Meeting not only +continued, it increased in solemnity and in power. + +Never, while they lived, did any of those present that day forget that +silent Meeting, or the brooding Presence, that, closer, clearer than +the sunlight, filled the bright room. + +'Cover thee with His feathers all the day long.' + +The Friends sat in their accustomed stillness. But the Indians sat +more still than any of them. They seemed strangely at home in the +silence, these wild men of the woods. Motionless they sat, as a group +of trees on a windless day, or as a tranquil pool unstirred by the +smallest breeze; silent, as if they were themselves a part of Nature's +own silence rather than of the family of her unquiet, human children. + +The slow minutes slipped past. The peace brooded, and grew, and +deepened. 'Am I dreaming?' Mrs. Hoxie thought to herself more than +once, and then, raising her eyes, she saw the Indians still in the +same place, and knew it was no dream. She saw, too, that Benjamin's +eyes were riveted to some objects hanging from the strangers' waists, +that none of the other Friends appeared to see. + +At last, when the accustomed hour of worship was ended, the two +Friends at the head of the Meeting shook hands solemnly. Then, and not +till then, did old Zebulon Hoxie advance to the Indian Chief, and with +signs he invited him and his followers to come to his house close at +hand. With signs they accepted. The strange procession crossed the +sunlit path. Susie and Dinah, wide awake now, but kept silent in +obedience to their mother's whispers, were watching the feathers with +clear, untroubled eyes that knew no fear. Only Benjamin shivered as if +he were cold. + +When the company had arrived at the house, Zebulon put bread and +cheese on the table, and invited his unwonted guests to help +themselves. They did so, thanking him with signs, as they knew little +or no English. Robert Nisbet, the visiting Friend, who could speak and +understand French, had a conversation with one of the Indians in that +language, and this was what he said: 'We surrounded your house, +meaning to destroy every living person within it. But when we saw you +sitting with your door open, and _without weapons of defence_, we had +no wish any longer to hurt you. Now, we would fight for you, and +defend you ourselves from all who wish you ill.' Meanwhile the Chief +who had entered first was speaking in broken English to old Zebulon +Hoxie, gesticulating to make his meaning clear. + +'Indian come White Man House,' he said, pointing with his finger +towards the Settlement, 'Indian want kill white man, one, two, three, +six, all!' and he clutched the tomahawk at his belt with a gruesome +gesture. 'Indian come, see White Man sit in house; no gun, no arrow, +no knife; all quiet, all still, worshipping Great Spirit. Great Spirit +inside Indian too;' he pointed to his breast; 'then Great Spirit say: +"Indian! No kill them!"' With these words, the Chief took a white +feather from one of his arrows, and stuck it firmly over the centre of +the roof in a peculiar way. 'With that white feather above your +house,' the French-speaking Indian said to Robert Nisbet, 'your +settlement is safe. We Indians are your friends henceforward, and you +are ours.' + +A moment later and the strange guests had all disappeared as +noiselessly as they had come. But, when the bushes had ceased to +tremble, Benjamin stole to his mother's side. 'Mother, did you _see_, +did you _see_?' he whispered. 'They were _not_ friendly Indians. They +were the very most savage kind. Did you,' he shuddered, 'did you, and +father, and grandfather, and the others not notice what those things +were, hanging from their waists? They were _scalps_--scalps of men and +women that those Indians had killed,' and again he shuddered. + +His mother stooped and kissed him. 'Yea, my son,' she answered, 'I did +see. In truth we all saw, too well, save only the tender maids, thy +sisters, who know naught of terror or wrong. But thou, my son, when +thou dost remember those human scalps, pray for the slayers and for +the slain. Only for thyself and for us, have no fear. Remember, +rather, the blessing of that other Benjamin, for whom I named thee. +"The Beloved of the Lord shall dwell in safety by Him. He shall cover +him all the day long."' + + + + +XXX. THE THIEF IN THE TANYARD + + + + + _'In the House of Love men do not + curse nor swear; they do not destroy + nor kill any. They use no outward + swords or spears. They seek to to + destroy no flesh of man; but it is a + fight of the cross and patience to + the subduing of sin.'--HENRY + NICHOLAS (circa 1540)_. + + + _'We have to keep in mind the + thought of Christ. To us it seems + most important to stop the evil + act, hold it down by force, or + push off its consequences on to + someone else: anything, so long as + we get rid of them from ourselves. + Christ's thought was to change the + evil mind, whatever physical + consequences action, directed to + this end, might involve.... This + is the essence of "turning the + other cheek," it is the attitude + most likely to convert the sinner + who injures us, whether it + actually does so or not,--we + cannot force him to be converted.' + ... 'Those who try this method of + love for the sake of the evildoer + must be prepared to go down, if + necessary, as the front ranks + storming a strong position go + down, paying the price of victory + for those who come after them. + This method is not certain to + conquer the evil mind: it is the + most likely way to do it, and it + is that that matters most.'--A. + NEAVE BRAYSHAW._ + + + + +XXX. THE THIEF IN THE TANYARD + + +Knock! knock! knock! + +The tremulous sound, three times repeated, disturbed the stillness of +an empty street of small wooden houses. The night was very dark, but +the square mass of the tanner's house could just be discerned, black +and solid against the sky. The rays of a solitary oil lamp straggled +faintly across the roadway, and showed a man with a large bundle on +his back standing on the doorstep of that house, knocking as if he +were afraid of the noise he made. + +Knock! knock! knock! He tried once more, but with growing timidity and +hesitation. Evidently the inmates of the house were busy, or too far +off to hear the feeble summons. No one answered. The man's small stock +of courage seemed exhausted. Giving his heavy bundle a hitch back on +to his shoulder, he slunk off down the road, to where at a little +distance the small oil lamp high up on the wall beckoned faintly in +the darkness. The all-pervading smell of a tannery close by filled the +air. + +When he came directly under the lamp, the man stopped. The light, +falling directly upon the package he carried, showed it to be a bundle +of hides all ready for tanning. Here he stopped, and drew out a piece +of crumpled newspaper from his pocket. Smoothing out the creases as +carefully as he could, he held it up towards the lamp, and read once +more the strange words that he already knew almost by heart. + +This notice was printed in large letters in the advertisement column: +'WHOEVER stole a lot of hides on the fifth day of the present month +is HEREBY informed that their owner has a sincere wish to be his +friend. If poverty tempted him to this false step the owner will keep +the whole transaction secret, and will gladly put him in the way of +obtaining money by means more likely to bring him peace of mind.' + +'If poverty tempted him to this false step,' the man repeated to +himself half aloud. 'Tanner Savery wraps up his meaning in fine words, +but their sense is plain enough. If it was being poor that drove a man +to become a thief and to steal these hides from the shadow of that +dark archway down by the river last Sunday night,--suppose it was +poverty, well what then? Friend Savery "will gladly put him in the way +of obtaining money by means more likely to bring him peace of mind." +Will he indeed? Can I trust him? Is it a hoax? I would rather do +without the money now, if only I could get rid of these hides, and of +their smell, that sticks to a man's nostrils even as sin does to his +memory. But the tanner promises to give me back peace of mind, does +he? Well, that's a fair offer and worth some risk. I'll knock once +more at his door and see what happens.' + +Stuffing the newspaper into his pocket he walked quickly up the road +again, back to the square house, and up the sanded steps. Again he +lifted the brass knocker, and again 'knock! knock! knock!' rang out on +the night air. But this time the knocking was less tremulous, and as +it happened the inmates of the house were crossing the hall on their +way to bed and heard the sound at once. In less than a minute the door +opened, and a square brass candlestick, held high up, threw its light +out into the street. The candlestick was held by a tall man with +greyish white hair, whom all the town knew as Tanner Savery. Peeping +behind his shoulder appeared his wife's gentle face, surmounted by the +clear muslin of a Quakeress's cap. The man on the doorstep never +lifted up his eyes to the couple. 'I've brought them back, Mr. +Savery,' he mumbled, too much ashamed even to explain what he meant by +'them.' But William Savery needed no explanation. Ever since the hides +had mysteriously disappeared from his tanyard a few days before, he +had felt sure that this quarrelsome neighbour of his must have taken +them. + +What was that neighbour's real name? That, nobody knows, or ever will +know now. We only know that whatever it may have been it certainly was +not John Smith, because when, in after years, Tanner Savery +occasionally told this story he always called the stealer of his hides +'John Smith' in order to disguise his identity; so we will speak of +John Smith too. 'A ne'er-do-well' was the character people gave him. +They spoke of him as a man who was his own worst enemy, sadly too fond +of his glass, and always quarrelling with his neighbours. Only William +Savery refused to believe that any man could be altogether evil, and +he kept a ray of hope in his heart for John Smith, even when his +valuable bundle of hides mysteriously disappeared. It was that ray of +hope that had made him put the advertisement in the paper, though he +knew it would set the town laughing over 'those Quakers and their +queer soft ways.' This evening the ray of hope was shining more +brightly than ever. More brightly even than the candlelight shone in +the darkness of the night, the hope in his heart shone through the +brightness of the Tanner's eyes and smile. Yet he only answered +cheerily, 'All right, friend, wait till I can light a lantern and go +to the barn to take them back with thee.' + +There was no trace of surprise in his voice. Those matter-of-fact +tones sounded as if it were the most natural thing in the world to go +out to the tanyard at 10 o'clock at night instead of going upstairs to +bed. + +'After we have done that,' he continued, 'perhaps thou wilt come in +and tell me how this happened; we will see what can be done for thee.' + +A lantern, hanging on its hook in the hall, was soon lighted. The two +men picked their way down the sanded steps again, then passing under a +high creeper-covered gateway they followed a narrow, flagged path to +the tanyard. + +All this time William Savery had not said one word to his wife--but +the ring of happiness in his voice had made her happy too, and had +told her what he would like her to do during his absence from the +house. Lifting up the bedroom candlestick from the oak chest on which +her husband had set it down, she hastened to the larder, then to the +kitchen, where she poked up the fire into a bright glow, put a kettle +on, and then went back again through the hall to the parlour, to and +fro several times. When the two men returned to the house a quarter of +an hour later, the fragrance of hot coffee greeted them. Solid pies +and meat were spread out on the dark oak table. Mrs. Savery's pies +were famous throughout the town. But besides pies there were cakes, +buns, bread, and fruit,--a meal, indeed, to tempt any hungry man. + +'I thought some hot supper would be good for thee, neighbour Smith,' +said Mrs. Savery in her gentle voice, as she handed him some coffee in +one of her favourite blue willow-pattern cups. But John Smith did not +take the cup from her. Instead, he turned his back abruptly, went over +to the high carved fireplace, and leaning down looking into the +glowing coals, said in a choked voice, 'It is the first time I ever +stole anything, and I can tell you I have felt very bad about it ever +since. I don't know how it is. I am sure I didn't think once that I +should ever come to be a thief. First I took to drinking and then to +quarrelling. Since I began to go downhill everybody gives me a kick; +you are the first people who have offered me a helping hand. My wife +is sickly and my children are starving. You have sent them many a +meal, God bless you! Yet I stole the hides from you, meaning to sell +them the first chance I could get. But I tell you the truth when I +say, drunkard as I am, it is the first time I was ever a thief.' + +'Let it be the last time, my friend,' replied William Savery, 'and the +secret shall remain between ourselves. Thou art still young, and it is +within thy power to make up for lost time. Promise me that thou wilt +not take any strong drink for a year, and I will employ thee myself in +the tanyard at good wages. Perhaps we may find some employment for thy +family also. The little boy can, at least, pick up stones. But eat a +bit now, and drink some hot coffee; perhaps it will keep thee from +craving anything stronger tonight.' + +So saying, William Savery advanced, and taking his guest by the arm, +gently forced him into a chair. Mrs. Savery pushed the cup towards +him, and heaped his plate with her excellent meat-pies. The stranger +took up the cup to drink, but his hand trembled so much that he could +not put it to his lips. He tried to swallow a small mouthful of bread, +but the effort nearly choked him. William Savery, seeing his guest's +excited state, went on talking in his grave kind voice, to give him +time, and help him to grow calm. + +'Doubtless thou wilt find it hard to abstain from drink at first,' he +continued, 'but keep up a brave heart for the sake of thy wife and +children, and it will soon become easy. Whenever thou hast need of +coffee tell my wife, Mary, and she will give it thee.' + +Mary Savery's blue eyes shone as she nodded her head; she did not say +a word, for she saw that her guest was nearly at an end of his +composure. Gently she laid her hand on his rough sleeve as if to try +to calm and reassure him. But even her light touch was more than he +could bear at that moment. Pushing the food and drink away from him +untasted, he laid both his arms on the table, and burying his head, he +wept like a child. + +The husband and wife looked at each other. 'Can I do anything to help +him?' Mary's eyes asked her husband in silence. 'Leave him alone for a +little; he will be better when this fit of tears is over,' his wise +glance answered back. + +William Savery was right. The burst of weeping relieved John Smith's +over-wrought feelings. Besides, he really was almost faint with +hunger. In a few moments, when the coffee was actually held to his +lips, he found he could drink it--right down to the bottom of the cup. +As if by magic, the cup was filled up again, and then, very quickly, +the meatpies too began to disappear. + +At each mouthful the man grew calmer. It was an entirely different +John Smith who took leave of his kind friends an hour later. Again +they followed him to the door. 'Try to do well, John, and thou wilt +always find a friend in me,' William Savery said, as they parted. Mary +Savery added no words--she was never a woman given to much talk. Only +she slipped her fingers into her guest's hand with a touch that said +silently, 'Fare thee well, _friend_.' + +The next day John Smith entered the tanyard, not this time slinking in +as a thief in the darkness, but introduced by the master himself as an +engaged workman. For many years he remained with his employer, a +sober, honest, and faithful servant, respected by others and +respecting himself. The secret of the first visit was kept. William +and Mary Savery never alluded to it, and John Smith certainly did not, +though the memory of it never left him and altered all the rest of his +life. + +Long years after John Smith was dead, William Savery, in telling the +story, always omitted the man's name. That is why he has to be called +John Smith, because no one knows now, no one ever will know, what his +real name may have been. 'But,' as William Savery used to say when he +was prevailed on to tell the story, 'the thing to know and remember is +that it is possible to overcome Evil with Good.' + + + + +XXXI. HOW A FRENCH NOBLE BECAME A FRIEND + + + + + _Sentences from 'No Cross, No Crown,' + by WILLIAM PENN._ + + _'Come, Reader, hearken to me + awhile; I seek thy salvation; that + is my plot; thou wilt forgive me.'_ + + _'Thou, like the inn of old, hast + been full of guests; thy affections + have entertained other lovers; + there has been no room for thy + Saviour in thy soul ... but his + love is after thee still, & his + holy invitation continues to save + thee.'_ + + _'Receive his leaven, & it will + change thee; his medicine and it + will cure thee; he is as infallible + as free; without money and with + certainty.... Yield up the body, + soul & spirit to Him that maketh + all things new: new heavens & new + earth, new love, new joy, new + peace, new works, a new life & + conversation....'_ + + _'The inward, steady righteousness + of Jesus is another thing than all + the contrived devotion of poor + superstitious man.... True worship + is an inward work; the soul must be + touched and raised in its heavenly + desires by the heavenly Spirit.... + So that souls of true worshippers + see God: and this they wait, they + pant, they thirst for.'_ + + _'Worship is the supreme act of + man's life.'_ + + + + +XXXI. HOW A FRENCH NOBLE BECAME A FRIEND + + +Now we come to a Saint who had a life so full of adventures that a +book twice as big as this one would be needed to contain the stories +that might be told about him alone. + +Unlike any of the other 'Quaker Saints' in this book, he was by birth +a Frenchman and came of noble family. His name was Etienne de Grellet. +He was born nearly a century after the death of George Fox; but he +probably did not know that such a person had ever existed, never even +heard Fox's name, until long after he was grown up. If Etienne de +Grellet, the gay young nobleman of the French court, had been told +that his story would ever be written in a book of 'Quaker Saints' he +would, most likely, have raised his dark eyebrows and have looked +extremely surprised. + +'_Quakere? Qu'est-ce que c'est alors, Quakere? Quel drole de mot! Je +ne suis pas Quakere, moi!_' he might have answered, with a disdainful +shrug of his high, narrow, aristocratic French shoulders. Yet here he +is after all! + + * * * * * + +Etienne de Grellet was born at Limoges in France, in the year 1773. +His childhood was passed in the stormy years when the cloud was +gathering that was to burst a little later in the full fury of the +French Revolution. His father, Gabriel de Grellet, a wealthy merchant +of Limoges, was a great friend and counsellor of Louis XVI. and Marie +Antoinette. As a reward for having introduced into the country the +manufacture of finer porcelain than had ever before been made in +France he was ennobled by the king, whom he often used to attend in +his private chapel. Limoges china is still celebrated all over the +world; and at that time the most celebrated of its china-makers was M. +de Grellet, the king's friend. + +Naturally the sons of this successful merchant and nobleman were +brought up in great luxury. Etienne and his brothers were not sent to +a school, but had expensive tutors to teach them at home. Their +parents wanted their children to be well educated, honourable, +straightforward, generous, and kind; to possess not only +accomplishments but good qualities. Yet Etienne felt, when he looked +back in later days, that something had been left out in their +education that was, perhaps, the most important thing of all. + +When he was quite a little boy he was taken to visit one of his aunts +who was a nun in a convent near Limoges. The rules of this convent +were so strict that the nuns might not even see their relations who +came to visit them. They might only speak to them from the other side +of two iron gratings, between the bars of which a thick curtain was +hung. The little boy thought it very strange to be taken from his +beautiful home, full of costly furniture, pictures, and hangings, and +to be brought into the bare convent cell. Then he looked up and saw an +iron grating, and heard a voice coming through the folds of a thick +curtain that hung behind it. He could hear the voice, but he might +never see the face of the aunt who spoke to him. At night at home, as +he lay in his comfortable bed, he used to think of his aunt and the +other nuns 'rising three times in the night for prayer in the church, +from the hard boards which formed their couch, even the luxury of a +straw pallet being denied them.' 'Which is the real life,' he used to +ask himself, 'the easy comfortable life that goes on round me every +day, or that other, difficult life hidden behind the folds of the +thick curtain?' + +Child though he was, Etienne felt that his aunt loved him, although he +had never seen her. This helped him to feel that, although unseen, God +was loving him too. As he grew older he wondered: 'Perhaps everything +we see here is like the bars of a grating, or a thick curtain. Perhaps +there is some one on the other side who is speaking to us too.' + +Etienne was only about five or six years old when he made the great +discovery that GOD IS THERE, hidden behind the screen of visible +things all round us. After this, he longed to be able to speak to God +and to listen to God's voice, as he was able to listen to his unseen +aunt's voice speaking to him from behind the curtain in the convent. + +No one ever taught him to pray; but presently he discovered that too +for himself. One day, when he was only six years old, his tutor gave +him a Latin lesson to learn that was much too difficult for him. +Etienne took the book up to his bedroom, and there, all alone, he read +it over and over and did his very best to learn it. But the unfamiliar +Latin words would not stay in his memory. At last he closed the book +in despair and went to his bedroom window and looked out. He gazed +over the high roofs of the city, away over the wide plain in which +Limoges lay, to the distant mountain, blue against the sky. +Everything looked fair and peaceful. As he gazed, the thought came to +him, 'God made the plain and the river and the mountains. God made +this whole beautiful world in which I live. If God can create all +these things, surely He can give me memory also.' He knelt down at the +foot of his bed and prayed, for the first time in his life, that his +Unseen Friend would help him to master the difficult lesson. Taking up +the book again, he read the hard Latin words once more, very +attentively. This time the words stayed in his memory and did not fade +away. Often afterwards, he found that if he prayed all his lessons +became easier. He could not, of course, learn them without effort, but +after he had really prayed earnestly, he found he could remember +things better. Then one day he learned the Lord's prayer. Long years +after, when he was an old man, he could still recall the exact spot in +his beautiful home where, as a little boy, he had first learned to +say, 'Our Father.' Etienne and his family belonged to the Roman +Catholic Church. On Sundays they went to the great cathedral of +Limoges; but the service there always seemed strange and far away to +Etienne.[41] The music, the chanting, the Latin words that were said +and sung by bishops and priests in their gorgeous robes, did not seem +to him to have anything to do with the quiet Voice that spoke to the +boy in the silence of his own heart. + +When Etienne and his brothers were old enough they were sent to +several different colleges and schools. Their last place of +instruction was the celebrated College of the Oratorians at Lyons. +Among other things, the students of this College were taught to move +so quietly that fifty or a hundred boys went up or down the stone +steps of the College all together, without their feet making the least +noise. + +Etienne tells us in his diary: 'as we were educated by Roman Catholics +and in their principles we were required to confess once a month,' +that is, to tell a priest whatever they had done that was wrong, and +receive the assurance of God's forgiveness from him. + +The priest to whom Etienne regularly made his confession was 'a pious, +conscientious man,' who treated him with fatherly care. When the boy +told him of his puzzles, and asked how it could be necessary to +confess to any man, since God alone could forgive sins, he received a +kind, helpful answer. 'Yet,' he says, 'my reasoning faculties brought +me to the root of the matter; from created objects to the +Creator--from time to eternity.' After he was confirmed at College he +hoped that his heart would be changed and made different; but he found +that he was still much the same as before. Before leaving the College +he and the other students who were also departing received the +Sacrament of the Lord's Supper at Mass. This was to Etienne a very +solemn time. But, he says, as soon as he was out in the world again, +the remembrance of it faded away. He settled that he had no use for +religion in his life, and determined to live for pleasure and +happiness alone. 'I sought after happiness,' his diary says, 'in the +world's delights. I went in pursuit of it from one party of pleasure +to another; but I did _not_ find it, and I wondered that the name of +pleasure could be given to anything of that kind.' + +In his dissipated life after leaving College, he gave up saying his +prayers, and gradually he lost his belief that GOD WAS THERE. He read +unbelieving books, which said that God did not exist, and that the +Unseen world was only a delusion and a dream. For a time Etienne gave +himself up to doubt and denial as well as to dissipation. He was in +this restless state when the French Revolution broke out and caught +him, like a butterfly in a thunderstorm. New questions surged over +him. 'If there is a God after all, why should He allow these horrors +to happen?' But no answer came. Or perhaps he had forgotten how to +listen. + +'Towards the close of 1791,' he writes, 'I left my dear Father's +house, and bade him, as it proved, a lasting farewell, having never +seen him since.' At this time, Etienne accompanied his brothers and +many other nobles into Germany, to join the French Princes who were +endeavouring to bring about a counter-revolution and restore the king, +Louis XVI. + +On this dangerous journey the young men met with many narrow escapes. +Courage came naturally to Etienne. 'I was not the least moved,' he +writes in his diary, 'when surrounded by people and soldiers, who +lavished their abuses upon us, and threatened to hang me to the +lamp-post. I coolly stood by, my hands in my pockets, being provided +with three pairs of pistols, two of which were double-barrelled. I +concluded to wait to see what they would do, and resolved, after +destroying as many of them as I could, to take my own life with the +last.' + +Happily the necessity for extreme courses did not arise. He was, he +says, 'mercifully preserved,' and no violent hands were laid upon him, +though he and his companions suffered a short detention, after which +they succeeded in safely joining the French Princes and their +adherents at the city of Coblentz on the Rhine. Here Etienne spent the +following winter and spring surrounded, he tells us, by many +temptations. + +'I was fond of solitude,' continues the diary, 'and had many retired +walks through the woods and over the hills. I delighted to visit the +deserted hermitages, which formerly abounded on the Rhine. I envied +the situation of such hermits, retired from the world, and sheltered +from its many temptations; for I thought it impossible for me to live +a life of purity while continuing among my associates. I looked +forward wishfully to the time when I could thus retire; but I saw also +that, unless I could leave behind me my earthly-mindedness, my pride, +vanity, and every carnal propensity, an outward solitude could afford +me no shelter. + +'Our army entered into France the forepart of the summer of 1792, +accompanied by the Austrians and Prussians. I was in the King's Horse +Guards, which consisted mostly of the nobility. We endured great +hardships, for many weeks sleeping on the bare ground, in the open +air, and were sometimes in want of provisions. But that word _honour_ +so inflamed us, that I marvel how contentedly we bore our privations.' + +Towards the approach of winter, owing to various political changes, +the Princes' army was obliged to retire from France, and soon after +was disbanded. 'Etienne had been present at several engagements; he +had seen many falling about him, stricken by the shafts of death; he +had stood in battle array, facing the enemy ready for the conflict; +but, being in a reserve corps, he was preserved from actually shedding +blood, having never fought with the sword, or fired a gun.' + +In after years, he was thankful to remember that although he had been +perfectly willing to take life, he had never actually done so in his +soldier days. After the retreat of the French army, he and his +brothers set out for Amsterdam. On the way, however, they were made +prisoners of war, and condemned to be shot. 'The execution of the +sentence was each moment expected, when some sudden commotion in the +hostile army gave them an opportunity to make their escape.' Their +lives thus having been spared a second time they reached Holland in +safety. + +The young men were puzzled what to do next. They could not bear to +leave their beloved parents at distant Limoges, and yet it was +impossible to reach them or to help them in any way. France was a +dangerous place for people with a 'de' in their names in those days, +and for young men of military age most dangerous of all. Finally, +Etienne and his brother Joseph settled to go to South America. +'Through the kind assistance of a republican General, a friend of the +family, they obtained a passage on board a ship bound for Demerara, +where they arrived in the First month of 1793, after a voyage of about +forty days.' + +Unfortunately this long voyage had not taken them away from scenes of +violence. The Revolution in France was terrible, but the horrors of +slavery in South America were, if possible, even worse. The New World +seemed no less full of tragedy than the Old. Etienne saw there +husbands and wives, parents and children, brothers and sisters torn +apart, most cruelly beaten, often sold like cattle to tyrannical +masters, never to see each other's faces again. + +Amid such scenes Etienne grew more than ever full of despairing +thoughts, more than ever inclined to believe that there could not be a +God ruling a world where these evils were allowed to go unpunished. + +'Such was the impression made upon Etienne by the scenes of cruelty +and anguish he witnessed, that, many years after, the sound of a whip +in the street would chill his blood, in the remembrance of the agony +of the poor slaves; and he felt convinced that there was no excess of +wickedness and malice which a slave-holder, or driver, might not be +guilty of.' + +Etienne and Joseph stayed in Demerara for more than two years. In the +spring of 1795 they left South America and settled in Long Island near +New York. There, they made friends with a certain Colonel Corsa, a man +who had served in the British army, and who had a daughter who spoke +French. As the two brothers at this time knew no English it was a +great cheer to them in their loneliness to be able to visit at this +hospitable house. One day Colonel Corsa happened to speak of William +Penn. Etienne had already heard of the Quaker statesman, George Fox's +friend, and when the young girl said she possessed Penn's writings +Etienne asked to borrow them. He took back to his lodgings with him a +large folio book, intending, with the help of a dictionary, to +translate it in order to improve his English. Great was his +disappointment when he found that the book contained nothing about +politics or statesmanship. It was about religion; and at this time +Etienne thought that religion was all a humbug and delusion. +Therefore he shut up the book and put it away, though he did not +return it to its owner. One evening, about this time, as he was +walking in the fields alone, suddenly the Voice he had heard in his +childhood spoke to him once more, close by and terribly clear: +'ETERNITY, ETERNITY, ETERNITY.' These three words, he says, 'reached +my very soul,--my whole man shook,--it brought me, like Saul, to the +ground.' The sinfulness and carelessness of his last few years passed +before him. He cried out, 'If there is no God, doubtless there is a +hell.' + +His soul was almost in hell already, for hell is despair, and Etienne +was very nearly despairing at that moment. Only one way out remained, +the way of prayer, the little mossy pathway that he used to tread when +he was a child, but that he had not trodden, now, for many years. +Tangled, mossy, and overgrown that path was now, but it still led out +from the dark wood of life where Etienne had almost lost his way and +his hope. + +Etienne took that way. With his whole heart he prayed for mercy and +for deliverance from the sin and horror that oppressed him. When no +answer came at once he did not stop praying, but continued day and +night, praying, praying for mercy. Perhaps he scarcely knew to whom +his prayer was addressed; but it was none the less a real prayer. + +He expected that the answer to it would come in some startling form +that he could recognise the first minute and say: 'There! Now God is +answering my prayer!' + +Instead, the answer came far more simply than he had expected. God +often seems to choose to answer prayers in such a gentle, natural +fashion, that His children need to watch very carefully lest they take +His most radiant messengers, His most wonderful messages, almost as a +matter of course. Only if they recognise God's Love in all that comes, +planning how things shall happen, they can see His hand arranging even +the tiniest details of their lives, fitting them all in, and making +things work out right. Then they understand how truly wonderful His +answers are. + +The answer to Etienne's prayer came through nothing more extraordinary +than that same old folio book which he had borrowed from his friend +Miss Corsa, and had put away, thinking it too dull to translate. He +took it out again, and opened upon a part called 'No Cross, No Crown.' +'I proceeded,' he says, 'to read it with the help of my dictionary, +having to look for the meaning of nearly every word.' + +When he had finished, he read it straight through again. 'I had never +met with anything of the kind before,' and all the time he was reading +the Voice inside his heart kept on saying, 'Yes, Yes, Yes, that is +true!' + +'I now withdrew from company, and spent most of my time in retirement, +and in silent waiting upon God. I began to read the Bible, with the +aid of my dictionary, for I had none then in French. I was much of a +stranger to the inspired records. I had not even seen them before that +I remember; what I had heard of any part of their contents, was only +detached portions in Prayer Books. + +'Whilst the fallow ground of my heart was thus preparing, my brother +and myself, being one day at Colonel Corsa's, heard that a Meeting was +appointed to be held next day in the Friends' Meeting-house, by two +Englishwomen, to which we were invited. The Friends were Deborah Darby +and Rebecca Young. The sight of them brought solemn feelings over me; +but I soon forgot all things around me; for, in an inward silent frame +of mind, seeking for the Divine presence, I was favoured to find _in_ +me, what I had so long, and with so many tears, sought for _without_ +me. My brother, who sat beside me, and to whom the silence, in which +the forepart of the meeting was held, was irksome, repeatedly +whispered to me, "Let us go away." But I felt the Lord's power in such +a manner, that a secret joy filled me, in that I had found Him after +whom my soul had longed. I was as one nailed to my seat. Shortly +after, one or two men Friends in the ministry spoke, but I could +understand very little of what they said. After them Deborah Darby and +Rebecca Young spoke also; but I was so gathered in the temple of my +heart before God, that I was wholly absorbed with what was passing +there. Thus had the Lord opened my heart to seek Him where He is to be +found. + +'My brother and myself were invited to dine in the company of these +Friends, at Colonel Corsa's. There was a religious opportunity after +dinner, in which several communications were made. I could hardly +understand a word of what was said, but, as Deborah Darby began to +address my brother and myself, it seemed as if the Lord opened my +outward ear, and my heart. She seemed like one reading the pages of my +heart, with clearness describing how it had been, and how it was with +me. O what sweetness did I then feel! It was indeed a memorable day. I +was like one introduced into a new world; the creation, and all +things around me, bore a different aspect, my heart glowed with love +to all.... O how can the extent of the Lord's love, mercy, pity, and +tender compassion be fathomed!' + +After the visit of the two Friends had made this change in his life +Etienne decided to give up his French name and title, and to be no +longer Etienne de Grellet, the French nobleman, but plain Stephen +Grellet, the teacher of languages. Later on, he was to become Stephen +Grellet the Quaker preacher; but the time for that had not yet come. +After Deborah Darby's visit he went regularly to the Friends' Meetings +in Long Island, but they were held for the most part in complete +silence, and sad to say not one of the Friends ever spoke to him +afterwards. He missed their friendliness all the more because the +people he was lodging with could not bear his attending Quaker +Meetings, and tried to make him give up going to such unfashionable +assemblies. His brother, Joseph, also could not understand what had +come to him, and both Joseph and the lodging-house people teased poor +Stephen about his Quaker leanings, till he, who had been brave enough +when his life was in danger, was a coward before their mockery. He did +not want to give up going to his dear Meeting, but he hated to be +ridiculed. At first he tried to give up Meeting, but this disobedience +gave him, he says, 'a feeling of misery.' When the next Sunday came he +tried another plan. He went to the Meeting-house by roundabout ways +'through fields and over fences, ashamed to be seen by any one on the +road.' When he reached the Meeting-house by these by-lanes, the door +was closed. No Meeting was to be held there that day. The Friends +happened to have gone to another place. Stephen, therefore, sat down, +'in a retired place and in a very tried state,' to think the whole +question over again, with much humility. He decided that henceforth, +come what might, he would not be a coward; and he kept his resolution. +The next Sunday he went to Meeting 'though it rained hard and I had +about three miles to walk.' Henceforward he attended Meeting +regularly, and at last his brother ceased reproaching him for his +Quakerism, and one Sunday he actually came to Meeting too. This time +Joseph also enjoyed the silence and followed the worship. 'From that +time he attended meetings diligently, and was a great comfort to me. +But, during all that period,' Stephen continues, 'we had no +intercourse with any of the members of the religious Society of +Friends.' These Friends still took no notice of the two strangers. +They seem to have been Friends only in name. + +About this time bad news came from France. 'My dear mother wrote to me +that the granaries we had at our country seat had been secured by the +revolutionary party, as well as every article of food in our town +house. My mother and my younger brother were only allowed the scanty +pittance of a peck of mouldy horse-beans per week. My dear father was +shut up in prison, with an equally scanty allowance. But it was before +I was acquainted with the sufferings of my beloved parents, that the +consideration of the general scarcity prevailing in the country led me +to think how wrong it was for me to wear powder on my head, the ground +of which I knew to be pride.' He gave up powder from this time. It +would not be much of a sacrifice nowadays, but it was a very real one +then, when powder was supposed to be the distinguishing mark of a +gentleman. The two brothers were now obliged to learn to support +themselves. All their estates in France had been seized. 'Our means +began to be low, and yet our feelings for the sufferings in which our +beloved parents might be involved, caused us to forget ourselves, +strangers in a strange country, and to forward them a few hundred +dollars we had yet left.' + +It was no easy matter to find employment. The brothers went on to New +York, and there at last the Friends were kind: Friends in deed and not +in name only. They found a situation for Joseph in New York itself, +and arranged for Stephen to go to Philadelphia, where he was more +likely to find work. + +And at Philadelphia the Friends were, if possible, even kinder to him +than the Friends at New York. They were spiritual fathers and mothers +to him, he says, and seemed to know exactly what he was feeling. 'They +had but little to say in words, but I often felt that my spirit was +refreshed and strengthened in their company.' At Philadelphia, he had +many offers of tempting employment, but he decided to continue as a +teacher of languages in a school. He gave his whole mind to his school +work while he was at it, and out of school hours wandered about +entirely care free. But although he was a teacher of languages and +although the English of his Journals is scrupulously careful, it has +often a slight foreign stiffness and formality. He was often afraid in +his early years of making mistakes and not speaking quite correctly. +There is a story that long afterwards, when he was in England and was +taking his leave of some schoolgirls, he wished to say to them that +he hoped they might be preserved safely. But in the agitation of his +departure he chose the wrong words. His parting injunction, therefore, +never faded from the girls' memory: 'My dear young Friends, may the +Lord _pickle_ you, His dear little _muttons_.' + +If, even as an old man, Stephen was liable to fall into such pitfalls +as this, it is easy to understand that in his earlier years the fear +of making mistakes must have been a real terror to him, especially +when he thought of speaking in Meeting. Very soon after he became a +Friend he felt, with great dread, that the beautiful, comforting +messages that refreshed his own soul were meant to be shared with +others. Months, if not years, of struggle followed, before he could +rise in his place in Meeting and obey this inward prompting. But +directly he did so, his fears of making a mistake, or being laughed +at, vanished utterly away. After agony, came joy. 'The Lord shewed me +how He is mouth, wisdom and utterance to His true and faithful +ministers; that it is from Him alone that they are to communicate to +the people, and also the _when_ and the _how_.' At that first Meeting, +after Stephen had given his message and sat down again, several +Friends, whose blessing he specially valued, also spoke and said how +thankful they were for his words. Among those present that day was +that same William Savery, who, in the last story, had a bundle of +valuable hides stolen from his tanyard, and punished the thief, when +he came to return the hides, by loading him with kindness and giving +him a good situation. + +Certainly William Savery would not tell the story of 'the man who was +not John Smith' to Stephen Grellet on that particular day; for +Stephen was so filled with the thankful wonder that follows obedience, +that he had no thought for outside things. 'For some days after this +act of dedication,' he says, 'my peace flowed as a river.' In the +autumn of this year (1796), Stephen Grellet, the French nobleman, +became a Friend. About two years later, he was acknowledged as a +Minister by the Society. + +'In those days,' he writes, 'my mind dwelt much on the nature of the +hope of redemption through Jesus Christ.... I felt that the best +testimony I could bear was to evince by my life what He had actually +done for me.' + +Henceforth Stephen's life was spent in trying to make known to others +the joy that had overflowed his own soul. He did indeed 'put the +things that he had learned in practice,' as he journeyed over both +Europe and America, time after time, visiting high and low. His life +is one long record of adventures, of perils surmounted, of hairbreadth +escapes, of constant toil and of much plodding, humdrum service too. +His message brought him into the strangest situations, as he gave it +fearlessly. He sought an interview with the Pope at Rome in order to +remonstrate with him about the state of the prisons in the Papal +States. Stephen gave his message with perfect candour, and afterwards +entered into conversation with the Pope. Finally, he says, 'As I felt +the love of Christ flowing in my heart towards him, I particularly +addressed him.... The Pope ... kept his head inclined and appeared +tender, while I thus addressed him; then rising from his seat, in a +kind and respectful manner, he expressed his desire that "the Lord +would bless and protect me wherever I went," on which I left him.' + +Not satisfied with that, though it seems wonderful enough, Stephen +another time induced the Czar of all the Russias, Alexander I., to +attend Westminster Meeting. Both these stories are well worth telling. +But there is one story about Stephen, better worth telling still, and +that is how the Voice that guided him all over the world sent him one +day 'preaching to nobody' in a lonely forest clearing in the far +backwoods of America. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[41] 'From my earliest days,' he writes, 'there was that in me that +would not allow me implicitly to believe the various doctrines I was +taught.' + + + + +XXXII. PREACHING TO NOBODY + + + + + _'All the artillery in the world, + were they all discharged together + at one clap, could not more deaf + the ears of our bodies than the + clamourings of desires in the soul + deaf its ears, so you see a man + must go into silence or else he + cannot hear God speak.'_--JOHN + EVERARD. 1650. + + + _'God forces none, for love cannot + compel, and God's service is + therefore a thing of complete + freedom.... The thing which + hinders and has always hindered is + that our wills are different from + God's will. God never seeks + Himself, in His willing--we do. + There is no other way to + blessedness than to lose one's + self will'_--HANS DENCK. 1526. + + + _'The inward command is never + wanting in the due season to any + duty.'_--R. BARCLAY. 1678. + + + _'I think I can reverently say + that I very much doubt whether, + since the Lord by His grace + brought me into the faith of His + dear Son, I have ever broken bread + or drunk wine, even in the + ordinary course of life, without + the remembrance of, and some + devout feeling regarding the + broken body and the blood-shedding + of my dear Lord and + Saviour.'_--STEPHEN GRELLET. + + + _'One loving spirit sets another + on fire.'_--AUGUSTINE. + + + + +XXXII. PREACHING TO NOBODY + + +Stephen Grellet, after much waiting on the Lord to shew him His will, +was directed by the Spirit to take a long journey into the backwoods +of America, and preach the Gospel to some woodcutters who were felling +forest timber.'[42] + +At first Stephen did not know which was the wood he was meant to +visit, having travelled through hundreds of miles of forests on his +journey. So he waited very quietly, his heart as still as a clear +lake, ready to reflect anything God might show him. + +Suddenly a picture came. He remembered a lonely forest clearing, far +away. Workmen's huts were dotted about here and there, and a big +wooden building rose in the midst of the clearing. All around were +woodcutters, some busy sawing timber, some marking the tall forest +trees, others carting huge logs and piling them at a little distance. +Stephen now remembered the place well. He remembered, too, the +workmen's rough faces, and the wild shouts that filled the air as he +had passed by on horseback. He had noticed a faint film of blue smoke +curling up from the large building, and he had supposed that that must +be the dining-shanty where the workmen's food was prepared and where +they had their meals. He remembered having thought to himself, 'A +lonely life and a wild one!' But the place had not made a deep +impression on his mind, and he had forgotten it as he journeyed, in +the joy of getting nearer home. Now, suddenly, that forest clearing, +with the huts and the dining-shanty and the busy woodmen all round, +came back to him as vividly as a picture in a magic-lantern view, +while a Voice said, distinctly but very gently in his own heart, so +that only he could hear, 'GO BACK THERE AND PREACH TO THOSE LONELY +MEN.' + +Stephen knew quite well Whose Voice it was that was speaking to him, +for he had loved and followed that Voice for many years. Obedience was +easy now. He said at once, 'Yes, I will go;' and saying good-bye to +his wife, he left his home, and set forth again into the forest. As he +journeyed, a flood of happiness came over his soul. The long ride +through the lonely woods, day after day, no longer seemed tedious. He +was absolutely alone, but he never felt the least bit lonely. It was +as if Someone were journeying with him all the way, the invisible +Friend whose Voice he knew and loved and obeyed. + +When at length he drew near the clearing in the forest, he both +trembled and rejoiced, at the thought of soon being able to deliver +his message to the woodmen. Coming yet nearer, however, he no longer +saw any blue smoke curling up in a thin spiral between the straight +stems of the forest trees. Neither did he hear any sound of saws +sawing timber, or the men shouting to their horses. The whole place +was silent and deserted. When he reached the clearing, nobody was +there. Even the huts had gone. He would have thought he had mistaken +the place if the dining-shanty had not been there, by the edge of a +little trickling stream, just as he remembered it. + +Nowhere was there a living soul to be seen. Evidently all the woodmen +had gone away deeper into the forest to find fresh timber, for the +clearing was much larger and many more trees had been cut down than +on Stephen's first visit. The neglected look of the one big wooden hut +that remained showed that the men had not used it for many days. Weeks +might pass before any of the woodcutters returned. + +What was Stephen to do? He had no idea in which direction the woodmen +had departed. It was hopeless to think of tracking them further +through the lonely forest glades. Had the Voice made a mistake? Could +he have misunderstood the command? Was the whole expedition a failure? +Must he return home with his message still undelivered? His heart +burned within him at the thought, and he said, half aloud, 'No, no, +no!' + +There was only one way out of the difficulty, the same way that had +helped him to learn his Latin lesson years ago when he was a little +boy. But it was no tiny mossy track now, it was a broad, well-marked +road travelled daily, hourly, through long years,--this Prayer way +that led his soul to God. Tying up his horse to the nearest tree, +Stephen knelt down on the carpet of red-brown pine-needles, and put up +a wordless prayer for guidance and help. Then he began to listen. + +Through the windless silence of the forest spaces the Voice came again +more clearly than ever, saying: 'GIVE YOUR MESSAGE. IT IS NOT YOURS +BUT MINE.' Stephen hesitated no longer. He went straight into the +dining-shanty. He strode past the bare empty tables, under which the +long grass and flowers were already growing thick and tall. He went +straight up to the end of the room, and there, standing on a form, as +if the place had been filled with one or two hundred eager listeners, +although no single human being was to be seen, he PREACHED, as he had +never yet preached in his life. The Love of God, the 'Love that will +not let us go,' seemed to him the most real thing in the whole world. +All his life he had longed to find an anchor for his soul. Now that he +had found it, he must help others to find it too. Why doesn't everyone +find it? Ah! there he began to speak of sin; how sin builds up a wall +between our hearts and God; how, in Jesus Christ, that wall has been +thrown down once for all, and now there is nothing to keep us apart +except our own blindness and pride; and how if we will only turn round +and open our hearts to Him, He is longing to come in and dwell with +us. + +As Stephen went on, he pleaded yet more earnestly. He thought of the +absent woodcutters. He felt that he loved every single one of those +wild, rough men; and if he loved them, he, a stranger, how much more +dear must they be to their heavenly Father. 'Grant me to win each +single soul for Thee, O Lord,' he pleaded, 'each single soul for +Thee.' + +Where were they all now, these men to whom he had come to speak? He +could not find them. But God could. God was their shepherd. Even if +His messenger failed, the Good Shepherd would seek on until He found +each single wandering soul that He loved. 'And when the shepherd +findeth the lost sheep, after leaving the ninety and nine in the +wilderness, how does he bring it home? Does he whip it? Does he +threaten it? No such thing! he carries it on his shoulder and deals +most tenderly with the poor, weary, wandering one.' + +While he was speaking he thought of the absent woodcutters with an +evergrowing desire to help them. He thought of the hard lives they +were forced to lead, of the temptations they must meet with daily, and +of the lack of all outward help towards a better life. As he repeated +the words again, 'Grant me, O Lord, to win these lost sheep of Thine +back to Thee and to Thy service; help me to win each single soul for +Thee,' he felt as if, somehow, his voice, his prayer, must reach the +men he sought, even though hundreds of miles of desolate forest lay +between. Towards the end of his sermon, the tears ran down his cheeks. +At last, utterly exhausted by the strength of his desire he sat down +once more, and, throwing his arms on the rough board before him, he +hid his face in his hands. + +A long time passed; the silence grew ever more intense. At last +Stephen lifted his head. He felt as tired as if he had gone a long +journey since he entered the wooden building. Yet it was all exactly +the same as when he had come in an hour before,--the rows of empty +forms and the bare tables, with grass and flowers growing up between +them. Stephen's eyes wandered out through the open door. He noticed a +thick mug of earthenware lying beside the path outside, evidently left +behind by the woodcutters as not worth taking with them. A common +earthenware mug it was, of coarse material and ugly shape; and +cracked. As Stephen's eyes fell upon it, he felt as if he hated that +mug more than he had ever before hated anything in his life. It seemed +to have been left behind there, on purpose to mock him. Here he was +with only an earthenware mug in sight, he who might have been +surrounded by the exquisite and delicate porcelain that he remembered +in his father's factory at Limoges. All that beauty and luxury +belonged to him by right; they might still have been his, if only he +had not listened for years to the Voice. And now the Voice had led him +on this fool's errand. Here he was, preaching to nobody, and looking +at a cracked mug. Was his whole life a mistake? a delusion? 'Am I a +fool after all?' he asked himself bitterly. + +He was in the sad, bitter mood that is called 'Reaction.' Strangely +enough, it often seizes people just when they have done some +particularly difficult piece of work for their Master. Perhaps it +comes to keep them from thinking that they can finish anything in +their own strength alone. + +Stephen was in the grip of this mood now. Happily he had wrestled with +the same sort of temptation many times before. He knew it of old; he +knew, too, that the best way to meet it is to face this giant Reaction +boldly, as Christian faced Apollyon, to wrestle with it and so to +overcome. He went straight out of the door to where the mug was lying, +and took up that mug, that cracked mug, in his hands, more reverently +than if it had been a vase of the most precious and fragile porcelain. +He took it up, and accepted it, this thing he hated worst of all. If +life had led him only to a cracked mug, at least he would accept that +mug and use it as best he could. Carrying it in his hands, he walked +to the little stream whose gentle murmur came through the tall grasses +close at hand. There he knelt down, cleansed the mug carefully, filled +it with water, and putting it to his lips, he drank a long refreshing +draught. In his pocket he found a crust of bread. He took it out, +broke it in two pieces, and then drank again. Only a piece of dry +bread! Only a drink of cold water in a cracked cup! No meal could be +simpler. Yet Stephen ate and drank with a kind of awe, enfolded in a +sustaining, life-giving Presence. He knew that he was not alone; he +knew that Another was with him, feeding and refreshing his inmost +soul, as he drank of the clear, cold water and ate the broken bread. + +A wonderful peace and gladness fell upon his spirit as he knelt in the +sunny air. The silence of the great forest was itself a song of +praise. He rode homewards like a man in a dream. Day after day as he +journeyed, the brooding peace grew and deepened. Even the forest +pathways looked different as he travelled through them on his homeward +way. They had been full of trustful obedience before. They were filled +with thankfulness now. But the deepest thankfulness was in Stephen's +own heart. + + * * * * * + +Is that the end of the story? For many years that was the end. Stephen +never forgot his mysterious journey into the backwoods. He often +wondered why the Voice had sent him there. Nevertheless he knew, for +certain and past all doubting, that he had done right to go. Perhaps +gradually the memory faded a little and became dim.... + + * * * * * + +Anyway nothing was further from his thoughts than the lonely backwoods +of America one afternoon, years after, when on one of his journeys in +Europe his business led him across London Bridge. The Bridge was +crowded with traffic. Everyone was bustling to and fro, intent on his +own business or pleasure. Not many people had leisure to notice one +slight figure distinguished by a foreign air of courtliness and grace, +in spite of the stiff, severe lines of its Quaker hat and coat. Not +many people, even if they had noticed the earnest face under the +broad-brimmed hat, would have stopped to gaze a second time upon it +that busy afternoon. Not many people. But one man did. + +As Stephen was hastening across the crowded Bridge, suddenly he felt +himself seized roughly by the shoulders, and he heard a gruff voice +exclaiming: 'There you are! I have found you at last, have I?' + +Deep down inside Stephen Grellet, the Quaker preacher, there still +remained a few traces of the fastidious French noble, Etienne de +Grellet. The traces had been buried deep down by this time, but there +they still were. They leapt suddenly to light, that busy afternoon on +London Bridge. Neither French nobleman nor Quaker preacher liked to be +seized in such unceremonious fashion. 'Friend,' he remonstrated, +drawing himself gently away, 'I think that thou art mistaken.' + +'No, I am not,' rejoined the other, his grip tighter than ever. 'When +you have sought a man over the face of the globe year after year, you +don't make a mistake when you find him at last. Not you! Not me +either! I'm not mistaken, and I don't let you go now I've found you +after all these years, with your same little dapper, black, cut-away +coat, that I thought so queer; and your broad-brimmed hat that I well +remember. Never heard a man preach with his hat on before!' + +'Hast thou heard me preach, Friend? Why then didst thou not speak to +me afterwards if thou wished?' + +'But I didn't wish!' answered the stranger, 'nothing I wished for +less!' + +'Where was it?' enquired Stephen. + +'Why, I heard you preaching to nobody, years and years ago,' the man +returned. 'At least you supposed you were preaching to nobody. Really, +you were preaching to me. Cut me to the heart you did too, I can tell +you.' + +A dawning light of comprehension came into Stephen's face as the other +went on: 'Didn't you preach in a deserted dining-shanty in the +backwoods of America near----' (and he named the place), 'on such a +day and in such a year?' + +He asked these questions in a loud voice, regardless of the astonished +looks of the passers-by, still holding tight to the edge of Stephen's +coat with one hand, and shaking the forefinger of the other in +Stephen's face as he spoke, to emphasize each word. + +By this time all traces of Etienne, the fastidious French nobleman, +had utterly disappeared. Stephen Grellet, the minister of Christ, was +alive now to the tips of his fingers. His whole soul was in his eyes +as he gazed at his questioner. Was that old, old riddle going to find +its answer at last? + +'Wast thou there?' he enquired breathlessly. 'Impossible! I must have +seen thee!' + +'I was there, right enough,' answered the man. 'But you did not see +me, because I took very good care that you should not. At first I +thought you were a lunatic, preaching to a lot of forms and tables +like that, and better left alone. Then, afterwards, I wouldn't let +you see me, for fear you should see also that your words had gone in +deeper than I cared to show. I was the ganger of the woodmen,' he +continued, taking Stephen's arm in his and compelling the little +Quaker to walk beside him as he talked. 'It all happened in this way. +We had moved forth into the forest, and were putting up more shanties +to live in, when I discovered that I had left my lever at the old +settlement. So, after setting my men to work, I came back alone for my +instrument. As I approached the old place, I heard a voice. Trembling +and agitated, I drew near, I saw you through the chinks of the timber +walls of our dining-shanty, I listened to you; and as I listened, your +words went through a chink in my heart too, though its walls were +thicker than those of any dining-shanty. I was determined you should +not see me. I crept away and went back to my men. The arrow stuck +fast. I was miserable for many weeks. I had no Bible, no book of any +kind, not a creature to ask about better things.' + +'Poor sheep! Poor lost sheep!' Stephen murmured gently; 'I knew it; I +knew it! The Good Shepherd knew it too!' + +'We were a rough lot in those days,' continued the other, 'worse than +rough, bad; worse than bad, wicked. There wasn't much about sin that +we didn't know among us, didn't enjoy too, after a fashion. That was +why your sermon made me so miserable. Seemed to know just all about +the lot of us, you did. After it, for weeks I went on getting more and +more wretched. There seemed nothing to do, me not being able to find +you, but to try and get hold of the book that had put you up to it. +None of us had such a thing, of course. It was a long time before I +could lay hands on one. Me and a Bible! How the men laughed! But they +stopped laughing before I had done with them. I read and read till I +found what you had said about the Good Shepherd and the lost +sheep--'and God so loved the world,' and at last--eternal life. And +then I wasn't going to keep that to myself. It's share and share alike +out in the backwoods, I can tell you. I told my men all about it, just +like you. I never let 'em alone, I gave them no peace till they were +one and all brought home to God--every single one! I heard you asking +Him: "Every single soul for Thy service, every single soul for Thee, O +Lord." That was what you asked Him for,--that, and more than that, He +gave. It's always the way! When the Lord begins to answer, He does +answer! Every single one of those men was brought home to Him. But it +didn't stop there. Three of them became missionaries, to go and bring +others back to the fold in their turn. I tell you the solemn truth. +Already one thousand lost sheep, if not more, have been brought home +to the Good Shepherd through that sermon of yours, that day in the +backwoods, when you thought you were + + PREACHING TO NOBODY!' + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[42] _The American Friend_, 28th November 1895. + + + + +COME-TO-GOOD + + + + + _'Flowers are the little faces of + God.'--(A saying of some little + children.)_ + + + _'To the soul that feeds on the + bread of life the outward + conventions of religion are no + longer needful. Hid with Christ in + God there is for him small place + for outward rites, for all + experience is a holy baptism, a + perpetual supper with the Lord, + and all life a sacrifice holy and + acceptable unto God._ + + _'This hidden life, this inward + vision, this immediate and intimate + union between the soul and God, + this, as revealed in Jesus Christ, + is the basis of the Quaker + faith.'_--J.W. ROWNTREE. + + + _'Here the pure mind is known, and + the pure God is waited upon for + wisdom from above; and the peace, + which hath no end, is enjoyed.... + And the Light of God that calls + your minds out of the creatures, + turns them to God, to an endless + being, joy and peace: here is a + seeing God always present.... So + fare you well! And God Almighty + bless, guide and keep you all in + His wisdom.'_--GEORGE FOX. + + + + +COME-TO-GOOD + + +_One more Meeting-house to visit; the last and the smallest of all. A +Meeting-house with no story, except the story in its name. +'"Come-to-Good!"' boys and girls from other counties will exclaim +perhaps, 'whoever heard of such a place? Why did people not call it +"Come-to-Harm," or "Ne'er-do-Weel," while they were about it?'_ + +_Cornish boys and girls know better. They will explain that in their +far Western corner of England there has always been an idea, and a +very good idea it is, that a name should really describe the place to +which it belongs, and should tell the hearer something about its +character. Thus it comes to pass that on one tidal river a certain +creek, covered with salt sea-water at high tide, but showing only an +expanse of muddy flats at low water, is called 'Cockles' Peep Out.' +Another creek, near by, is known as 'Frenchman's Pill,' because some +French prisoners were sent there for safety during the Napoleonic +Wars. Then, too, a busy sea-port was once called 'Penny Come Quick,' +with good reason; and another out-of-the-way place 'Hard to Come By,' +which explains itself. Most romantic of all, the valley where King +Charles's army lost a battle long ago is still known as 'Fine and +Brave.' There, the country people say, headless ghosts of defeated +Cavaliers may still be seen on moonlight nights riding up and down, +carrying their own plumed-hatted heads under their arms. All over the +county these story places are to be found. The more odd a Cornish name +sounds at the first hearing, the more apt it will often prove, when +the reason for it is understood._ + +_Thus it is not strange that a lonely, shut-in valley, folded away +between two steep hills, should be known as 'Come-to-Good,' since, for +more than two centuries, men and women, and little children also, have +'Come to Good' in that remote and hidden place. There, surrounded by +sheltering trees, stands the little old Meeting-house. Its high +thatched roof projects, like a bushy eyebrow, over the low white walls +and thick white buttresses, shading the three narrow casement windows +of pale-green glass with their diamond lattice panes. The windows are +almost hidden by the roof; the roof is almost hidden by the trees; and +the trees are almost hidden by the hills that rise above them. +Therefore the pilgrim always comes upon the Meeting-house with a +certain sense of surprise, so carefully is it concealed;--like a most +secret and precious thought._ + +_The bare Cornish uplands and wide moors have a trick of hiding away +these rich, fertile valleys, that have given rise to the proverb: +'Cornwall is a lady, whose beauty is seen in her wrinkles.' Yet, +hidden away as it is, 'Come-to-Good' has drawn people to it for +centuries. In all the country round, for generations past, one Sunday +in August has been known as 'Come-to-Good Sunday,' because, on that +day, the Friends assemble from three or four distant towns to hold +their meeting there. And not the Friends only. No bell has ever broken +the stillness of that peaceful valley, yet for miles round, on a +'Meeting Sunday,' the lanes are full of small groups of people: +parents and children; farm lads and lasses; thoughtful-faced men, who +admit that 'they never go anywhere else'; shy lovers lingering behind, +or whole families walking together. All are to be seen on their way to +refresh their souls with the hour of quiet worship in the snowy white +Meeting-house under its thatched roof._ + + * * * * * + +_Many years ago, little Lois (whom you read about at the beginning of +this book) was taken to Come-to-Good for the first time on such a +Sunday, by her Grandmother. Even now, whenever she goes there, she +still seems to see that dear Grandmother's tall, erect figure, in its +flowing black silk mantle and Quaker bonnet, walking with stately +steps up the path in front; or stooping for once--she who never +stooped!--to enter the little low door. People who did not know her +well, and even some who did, occasionally felt Lois' 'dear +Grandmamma' rather a formidable old lady. They said she was 'severe' +and 'alarmingly dignified,' and 'she says straight out just exactly +what she thinks.' Certainly, she was not one of the spoiling, +indulgent, eiderdown-silk-cushion kind of Grannies that some children +have now; but Lois loved her with all her heart and was never really +afraid of her. What stories she could tell! What wonderful stockings +full of treasures Santa Claus brought down her chimneys on Christmas +Eve to the happy grandchild staying with her! Lois loved to sit beside +her 'dear Grandmamma,' and to watch her in her corner by the fire, +upright as ever, knitting. Even on the long drive to Come-to-Good, the +feeling of her smooth, calm hand had soothed the restless little +fingers held in it so firmly and gently. The drive over, Lois wondered +what would happen to her in the strange Meeting-house when she might +not sit by that dear Grandmother's side any longer, since she, of +course, would have to be up in the Ministers' gallery, with all the +other 'Weighty Friends.' But, at Come-to-Good, things always turn out +right. Lois found, to her delight, that she and the other boys and +girls were to be allowed to creep, very quietly, up the twisty wooden +stairs at the far end of the Meeting-house, and to make their way up +into the 'loft' where four or five low forms had been specially placed +for them. Lois loved to find herself sitting there. She felt like a +little white pigeon, high up on a perch, able to see over the heads of +all the people below, and able even to look down on the grave faces of +the Ministers opposite. The row of broad-brimmed hats and coal-scuttle +bonnets looked entirely different and much more attractive, seen from +above, than when she looked up at them in Meeting at home. Then, when +some one rose to speak, Lois liked to watch the ripple that passed +over the heads beneath her, as all the faces turned towards the +speaker. Or when everybody, moved by the same impulse, stood up during +a prayer or sat down at its close, it was as fascinating to watch them +gently rise and gently sit down again as it was to watch the wind +sweep over the sea, curling it up into waves or wavelets, or the +breeze rippling over a broad field of blue-green June barley. Lois +never remembered the time when she was too small to enjoy those two +sights. 'I do like watching something I can't see, moving something I +can!' she used to think. To watch a Meeting, from the loft at +Come-to-Good, was rather like that, she felt; though years had to pass +before she found out the reason why._ + +_Out of doors, when the quiet hour of worship was over, other delights +were waiting. The small old white Meeting-house is surrounded by a yet +older, small green burial-ground, where long grasses, and flowers +innumerable, cover the gentle slopes. The soft mounds cluster closely +around the walls; as if those who were laid there had wished that +their bodies might rest as near as possible to the house of peace +where their spirits had rested while on earth._ + +_Further off the mounds are fewer; the grassy spaces between them grow +wider; till it becomes difficult to tell which are graves and which +are just grassy hillocks. Further still, the old burial-ground dips +down, and loses itself entirely, and becomes first a wood, then +frankly an orchard that fills up the bottom of the valley, through +which a clear brown stream goes wandering._ + +_Yet, midway on the hilly slope above, half hidden gravestones can +still be discerned, among the grass and flowers; shining through them, +like a smile that was once a sorrow. Small, grey, perfectly plain +stones they are, all exactly alike, as is the custom in Friends' +graveyards, where to be allowed a headstone at all, was, at one time, +considered 'rather gay'! Each stone bears nothing but a name upon it +and sometimes a date. 'Honor Magor' is the name carved on one of the +oldest stooping stones, and under it a date nearly 100 years old. That +is all. Lois used to wonder who Honor Magor was,--an old woman? a +young one? or possibly even a little girl? Where did she live when she +was alive? how did she come to be buried there? But there are no +answers to any of these questions; and there is no need to know more +than that the tired body of Honor Magor has been resting peacefully +for nearly a century, hidden under the tangle of waving grasses and +ever-changing flowers at Come-to-Good._ + +_Ever-changing flowers? Yes; because the changing of the seasons is +more marked there than at other places. For Come-to-Good lies so many +miles from any town, the tide of life has ebbed away so far from this +quiet pool, that, for a long time past, Meetings have only been held +here four times in the year. Summer, Autumn, Winter, and Spring,--each +season brings its own Sunday. Then, and for a week or two beforehand, +the topmost bar of every wooden gate in the neighbourhood bears a +modest piece of white paper announcing that 'a Friends' Meeting will +be held at Come-to-Good on the following First Day morning, at eleven +o'clock, when the company of any who are inclined to attend will be +acceptable.'_ + +_August Sunday brings deep, red roses tossing themselves up, like a +crimson fountain, against the grey thatched roof. November Sunday has +its own treasures: sweet, late blackberries, crimson and golden +leaves, perhaps even a few late hazel nuts and acorns still hiding +down in the wood. In February, the first gummy stars of the celandine +are to be seen peeping out from under the hedge, while a demure little +procession of white and green snowdrops walks primly up the narrow +path to Meeting. The 'Fair Maids of February' seem to have an especial +love for this quiet spot._ + +_But in May--ah! May is the best Sunday of all. In May not only is the +whole valley knee-deep in grass and ferns and flowers and bluebells. +There is something still better! In May the burial-ground is all +singing and tinkling silently with fairy spires of columbines. Garden +flowers in most other places, they are quite wild here. Purple and +deep-blue and pale-pink columbines are growing up everywhere; each +flower with its own little pairs of twin turtle-doves hidden away +inside. Even white columbine, rarest of all, has been found in that +magic valley. I am afraid Lois thought longingly, all through the +silence on a May Sunday, of the nosegay of columbines she meant to +gather afterwards. Directly Meeting was over, the children pelted down +very fast from the loft. Numbers of little feet flew across the sunlit +grass, while the elder Friends were walking sedately down the path to +the gate._ + + _'O Columbine, open your folded wrapper, + Where two twin turtle-doves dwell,'_ + +_chanted the children as they frolicked about, forgetting that they +had been stiff with sitting so long in Meeting, as they gathered +handfuls of their treasures._ + +_All too soon they would hear the call: 'Come, children! it is time to +be going.' And then they would scamper back, their hands full of their +dear dove flowers. No wonder they felt that in leaving this sunny spot +they were leaving one of the happiest places on earth. If only they +could stay there! If only some one could be enjoying it always! What a +pity that on the forty-eight other Sundays of the year it should all +be deserted, shut up and forsaken! There might be numbers of other +wonderful flowers that nobody ever saw. There the old Meeting-house +stays all by itself the whole year round, except on those four +Sundays, even as a lonely pool of clear water remains high up on the +rocks, showing that the great sea itself did come there once, long +ago, flowing in mightily, filling up all the bare chinks and +crannies._ + +_Will such a high tide ever come back again to Come-to-Good? Is that +tide perhaps beginning to flow in, noiselessly and steadily, even +now?_ + +_Some things look rather as if it might be; for new Friends' +Meeting-houses are being built in crowded cities to-day where even the +high tide of long ago never came. But then, in lonely country places +like Come-to-Good, scattered up and down all over England, there are +many of these deserted Meeting-houses, where hardly anybody comes now +or only comes out of curiosity. Yet the high tide did fill them all +once long ago, full to overflowing, when people met within their +walls constantly, seeking and finding God._ + + * * * * * + +_The stories in this book about our 'Quaker Saints' show at what a +cost these deserted places were won for us by our brave forefathers. +They, with their health and their lives gladly given in those terrible +prisons of long ago, gained for us our liberty to meet together 'in +numbers five or more,' to practise a 'form of worship not authorised +by law'; that is to say, without any prayer-book or set form of +service being used._ + +_Is our simple Quaker way of worship really worth the price they paid +for it? Or is it merely a quaint and interesting relic of a by-gone +age, something like the 'Friend's bonnet' that Lois' Grandmother wore +as a matter of course, which now is never used, but lies in a drawer, +carefully covered with tissue paper and fragrant with lavender?_ + +_Is our Quaker faith like that? Is it something antiquated and +interesting, but of no real use to us or to anybody to-day? Or did +these 'Quaker Saints' of whom we have heard, did they, and many other +brave men and women, whose stories are not written here, really and +truly make a big discovery? Did they, by their living and by their +dying, remind the world of a truth that it had been in danger of +forgetting? a truth that may still be in danger of being forgotten +if quite ordinary, everyday people are not faithful now in their +turn?_ + +[Illustration: A FRIENDS' MEETING] + +_Is it really and truly true, that where two or three humble human +souls are gathered together in His Name, in the simplest possible +fashion, without any priest, or altar, or visible signs to help them, +yet our Lord is there? Can He be indeed among them still to-day? and +will He be forever, as He promised? feeding them Himself with the true +Bread of Life, satisfying their thirst with Living Water, baptizing +their souls with Power and with Peace?--_ + +_Children dear, you must answer these questions for yourselves, +fearlessly and honestly. No one else can answer them for you. The +answers may seem long in coming, but do not be in a hurry. They will +come in time, if you seek steadfastly and humbly. Only remember one +thing, as you think over these questions. Even if this is our way, the +right way for us, this very simple Quaker way that our forefathers won +for us at such a cost, still that does not necessarily make it the +right way for all other people too. God's world and God's plans are +much bigger than that. He brings His children home by numbers of +different paths, but for each child of His, God's straight way for +that child is the very best._ + +_The wise old Persians had a proverb, 'The ways unto God are as the +number of the souls of the children of men.' Let us remember this, if +we ever want to try to force other people to think about things +exactly as we do. Let us remember, too, that rivalry and pride, that +saying, or even thinking, 'My way is the only right way, and a much +better way than your way,' is the only really antiquated kind of +worship. The sooner we all learn to lay that aside, not in lavender +and tissue paper, but to cast it away utterly and forget that it ever +existed,--the better._ + +_It is not a bit of an excuse for us when we are inclined to judge +other people critically, to read in these stories that some of the +early Friends did and said harsh and intolerant things. They lived in +a much harsher, more intolerant age than ours. The seventeenth +century, as we know, has been called 'a dreadfully ill-mannered +century.' Let us do our very best not to give any one an excuse for +saying the same of this twentieth century in which we live. Thus, in +reading of these Quaker Saints, let us try to copy, not their +harshness or their intolerance, but their unflinching courage, their +firm steadfastness, their burning hope for every man; above all, their +unconquerable love._ + +_Remember the old lesson of the daisies. Each flower must open itself +as wide as ever it can, in order to receive all that the Sun wants to +give to it. But, while each daisy receives its own ray of sunshine +thankfully and gladly, it must rejoice that other very different rays, +at very different angles, can reach other flowers. Yet the Sun Heart +from which they all come is One and the Same. All the different ways +of worship are One too, when they meet in the Centre._ + +_Therefore it is not strange that at little secluded Come-to-Good, +where the blue doves of the columbines keep watch over the quiet +graves, I should remember a message that came to me in another, very +different, House of God--a magnificent Cathedral far away in South +Italy. There, high up, above the lights and pictures and flowers and +ornaments of the altar, half hidden at times by the clouds of +ascending incense, I caught the shining of great golden letters. +Gradually, as I watched, they formed themselves into these three words +of old Latin:_ + + DEUS ABSCONDITUS HEIC. + +_And the golden message meant:_ + + '_GOD IS HIDDEN HERE._' + +_That is the secret all these different ways of worship are meant to +teach us, if we will only learn. Let us not judge one another, not +ever dream of judging one another any more. Only, wherever our own way +of worship leads us, let us seek to follow it diligently, dutifully, +humbly, and to the end. Then, not only when we are worshipping with +our brothers and sisters around us, in church, chapel, great +cathedral, or quiet meeting-house, but also (perhaps nearest and +closest of all) in the silence of our own hearts, we shall surely find +in truth and with thankfulness that_ + + GOD IS HIDDEN HERE. + + + + +HISTORICAL NOTES + + + + +HISTORICAL NOTES + +NOTE.--The References throughout are to the Cambridge Edition of +George Fox's Journal, except where otherwise stated. The spelling has +been modernised and the extracts occasionally abridged. + + +'STIFF AS A TREE, PURE AS A BELL.' + +Historical; described as closely as possible from George Fox's own +words in his Journal, vol. ii. pp. 94, 100-104. + + +'PURE FOY, MA JOYE.' + +Historical. See George Fox's Journal (Ellwood Edition), pp. 1-17. See +also Sewel's 'History of the Quakers,' and 'Beginnings of Quakerism,' +by W.C. Braithwaite. See 'George Fox,' by Thomas Hodgkin (Leaders of +Religion Series), for description of Fenny Drayton village, manor +house, church, and neighbourhood. + +See also W. Penn's Preface to George Fox's Journal (Ellwood Edition), +pp. xxiv and xxv, for details of parentage, childhood, and youth. + + +'THE ANGEL OF BEVERLEY.' + +This is a purely imaginary story, written for a ten-year-old listener +who begged for 'more of a story about him when he was young.' The +connection of a member of the Purefoy family with the 'Great Lady of +Beverley' has no foundation in fact. On visiting Fenny Drayton, since +writing the story, I find, however, that there were a brother and +sister Edward and Joyce Purefoy, who lived a few years earlier than +the date of this tale. They may still be seen in marble on a tomb in +the North Aisle with their father, the Colonel Purefoy of that day, +who does wear a ruff as described in the story. It is not impossible +that the Colonel Purefoy of George Fox's Journal may also have had a +son and daughter of the same names as described in my account, but I +have no warrant for supposing this and am anxious that this imaginary +tale should not be supposed to possess the same kind of authenticity +as most of the other stories. Priest Stephens' remark about George +Fox, and the scenes in Beverley Minster and at Justice Hotham's house, +are, however, historical. + + +'TAMING THE TIGER.' + +Historical. See George Fox's Journal (Ellwood Edition), pp. 27, 28, +31-48, 335, for the different incidents. + + +'THE MAN IN LEATHER BREECHES.' + +Expanded, with imaginary incidents and consequences, from a few +paragraphs in George Fox's Journal, i. 20. + + +'THE SHEPHERD OF PENDLE HILL.' + +Expanded from George Fox's Journal, i. 40. + +N.B.--The Shepherd, who is the speaker, is a wholly imaginary person. + + +'THE PEOPLE IN WHITE RAIMENT' and 'A WONDERFUL FORTNIGHT.' + +Historical. Taken from various sources, chiefly George Fox's Journal, +vol. i. pp. 40-44, and two unpublished papers by Ernest E. Taylor, +describing the lives and homes of the Westmorland Seekers: 'A Great +People to be Gathered' and 'Faithful Servants of God.' See also his +'Cameos from the Life of George Fox,' Sewel's 'History of the +Quakers,' and 'Beginnings of Quakerism,' by W.C. Braithwaite. + + +'UNDER THE YEW-TREES.' + +Expanded from George Fox's Journal, i. 47, 48, 52. The conversation +among the girls is of course imaginary, but many details are taken +from 'Margaret Fox of Swarthmoor Hall,' by Helen G. Crosfield, a most +helpful book that has been constantly used in all these stories about +Swarthmoor. + + +'BEWITCHED!' + +Historical. See Sewel's History, i. 106. George Fox's Journal, i. 51. +'Testimony of Margaret Fox' (Ellwood Edition of above, p. xliv). +'Margaret Fox of Swarthmoor Hall,' p. 15. Also 'England under the +Stuarts,' by G.M. Trevelyan (for Witchcraft). + + +'THE JUDGE'S RETURN.' + +Historical. See 'Testimony of Margaret Fox' (Ellwood Edition of G. +Fox's Journal), p. xlv. Sewel's History, i. 106. + + +'STRIKE AGAIN!' + +Historical. See George Fox's Journal, i. 57-59. Sewel's History, i. +111-112. + + +'MAGNANIMITY.' + +Historical. See George Fox's Journal, i. 59-61. Sewel's History, i. +113-114. + + +'MILES HALHEAD AND THE HAUGHTY LADY.' + +Historical. See Sewel's History, i. 129-131, and George Fox's Journal, +i. 53, 56, for George Fox's sermon. + + +'SCATTERING THE SEED.' + +Historical. Details taken from George Fox's Journal, i. 141, 209, 347; +292, 297; 11, 337. See also Chapter viii. 'The Mission to the South,' +in 'Beginnings of Quakerism,' by W.C. Braithwaite. Also 'First +Publishers of Truth,' for accounts of the work in the different +counties mentioned. + + +'WRESTLING FOR GOD.' + +Historical. See 'Beginnings of Quakerism,' Chapter viii. Also 'Letters +from the Early Friends,' by A.R. Barclay. 'Piety Promoted,' i. 35-38. +'Story of Quakerism,' by E.B. Emmott, for description of old London. +See also 'Memorials of the Righteous Revived,' by C. Marshall and +Thomas Camm, and note that I have followed T. Camm's account in this +book of his father's journey south with E. Burrough. W.C. Braithwaite +in 'Beginnings of Quakerism,' following 'First Publishers of Truth,' +thinks it, however, more probable that F. Howgill was E. Burrough's +companion throughout the journey, and that the two Friends reached +London together. + + +'LITTLE JAMES AND HIS JOURNEYS' and 'THE FIRST QUAKER MARTYR.' + +Mainly historical. Details taken largely from 'Life of James Parnell,' +by C. Fell Smith. See also 'James Parnell,' by Thomas Hodgkin, in 'The +Trial of our Faith.' Also 'Beginnings of Quakerism,' Chapter ix. and +Sewel's History. The discourse of the two Baptists on Carlisle Bridge +and James's association with them is imaginary, but they are +themselves historical characters, and the incidents they describe are +narrated in George Fox's Journal, i. 114, 115, 124-126; 153, 186. For +'The First Quaker Martyr,' see 'The Lamb's Defence against Lyes, a +true Testimony concerning the sufferings and death of James Parnell. +1656.' + + +'THE CHILDREN OF READING MEETING.' + +See Emmott's 'Story of Quakerism,' p. 83. Also 'Letters of the Early +Friends.' A very graphic but fictitious account of this incident is +given in 'The Children's Meeting,' by M.E. England, now out of print. +See also 'Lessons from Early Quakerism in Reading,' by W.C. +Braithwaite. My account is founded on history, but I have described +imaginary children. The list of scents used on Sir William Armorer's +wig is borrowed from a genuine one of a slightly later period. + + +'THE SADDEST STORY OF ALL.' + +Historical. See Sewel's History, i. 80, 255-293, 382-397, 408, 438. +Also 'Beginnings of Quakerism,' Chapter xi. 'Nayler's Fall.' Also +James Nayler's collected Books and Papers, published in 1716. + + +'PALE WINDFLOWERS.' + +See account of Dewsbury in 'Beginnings of Quakerism.' Also 'The +faithful Testimony of that Antient Servant of the Lord, and Minister +of the Everlasting Gospel, William Dewsbury.' Also 'Testimony to Mary +Samm,' p. 348, same volume. The details given are as far as possible +historical, but the setting, the walk, and the windflowers are +imaginary. The prison scene is as far as possible historical. The +Testimony to little Mary tells the sequel to her 'happy evening,' and +a few paragraphs from it are given here. + + +TESTIMONY TO MARY SAMM, 1680. + + The first day of the second month, 1680, it pleased the Lord to + afflict her with a violent fever, that brought her very low in a + little time, and great was her exercise of spirit, as to her + condition and state with God, many times weeping when she was + alone.... She said, 'If this distemper do not abate, I must die, + but my soul shall go to Eternal Joy, Eternal, Eternal and + Everlasting Life and Peace with my God for ever: Oh! praises, + praises to Thy Majesty, Oh, my God! who helpeth me to go through + with patience, what I am to endure.' Then after some time she + said. 'Friends, we must all go hence one after another, and they + that live the longest know and endure the greatest sorrow: + therefore, O Lord, if it be Thy will, take me to Thyself, that + my soul may rest in peace with Thee, and not any one to see me + here any more. Oh! praises, praises be unto Thy holy Name for + ever in Thy will being done with me, to take me to Thyself, + where I shall be in heavenly joy, yea, in heavenly joy for ever + and for evermore.'... + + And many times would she be praying to the Lord day and night, + 'O Lord, lay no more upon me, than Thou givest me strength to + bear, and go through with patience, that Thy will may be done, + that Thy will may be done' (many times together). 'Oh! help me, + help me, O my God! that I may praise Thy holy Name for ever.' + + And so continued, very often praising the Name of the Lord with + joyful sounds, and singing high praises to His holy Name for + ever and for evermore; she being much spent with lifting up her + voice in high praises to God, through fervency of spirit, and + her body being weak, her Grandfather went into the room, and + desired her to be as still as possibly she could, and keep her + mind inward, and stayed upon the Lord, and see if she could have + a little rest and sleep: she answered, 'Dear Grandfather, I + shall die, and I cannot but praise the Name of the Lord whilst I + have a being; I do not know what to do to praise His Name enough + whilst I live; but whilst there is life there is hope; but I do + believe it is better for me to die than live.' + + And so continued speaking of the goodness of the Lord from day + to day; which caused many tears to fall from the eyes of them + that heard her. Her Grandfather coming to her, asked her how she + did? She said to him and to her Mother, 'I have had no rest this + night nor to-day; I did not know but I should have died this + night, but very hardly I tugged through it; but I shall die + to-day, and a grave shall be made, and my body put into a hole, + and my soul shall go to heavenly joy, yea, heavenly joy and + everlasting peace for evermore.' + + Then she said, 'Dear Grandfather, I do believe thou wilt not + stay long behind me, when I am gone.' + + He answered, 'Dear Granddaughter, I shall come as fast as the + Lord orders my way.' + + Then she praised the Name of the Lord with high praises and + joyful sounds for a season, and then desired her Mother to let + her be taken up a little time; saying, 'It may be it will give + me some ease.' Then they sent for her Grandfather, who said to + her, 'If this be thy last day, and thereon thou art to die, it + is not safe for thee to be taken forth of thy bed: dear Mary, + thou shalt have all attendance that is convenient, as to set + thee up in thy bed, and to lay thee down again; but "to take + thee up" we are not willing to do it.' + + She answered, 'Well, Grandfather, what thou seest best for me, I + am willing to have it so.' + + Then her Mother and Aunt set her up in her bed; she said it did + refresh her and give her some ease: and as they were ordering + what was to be done about her bed, she said, 'Oh! what a great + deal of do is here in ordering the bed for one that is upon + their death-bed.' + + Her Aunt, Joan Dewsbury, said, 'Mary, dost thou think thou art + upon thy death-bed?' + + She answered, 'Yea, yea, I am upon my death-bed, I shall die + to-day, and I am very willing to die, because I know it is + better for me to die than live.' + + Her Aunt replied, 'I do believe it is better for thee to die + than live.' + + She said, 'Yea, it is well for me to die.'... + + 'And, dear Mother, I would have thee remember my love to my dear + sisters, relations, and friends; and now I have nothing to do, I + have nothing to do.' + + A friend answered, 'Nothing, Mary, but to die.' + + Then she said to her Mother, 'I desire thee to give me a little + clear posset drink, then I will see if I can have a little rest + and sleep before I die.' + + When the posset drink came to her, she took a little.... Then + she said to her Mother, 'I have a swelling behind my ear, but I + would not have anything done to it, nor to my sore throat nor + mouth, for all will be well enough when I am in my grave.' + + Then she asked what time of day it was? it being the latter part + of the day, her Grandfather said, 'The chimes are going four;' + she said, 'I thought it had been more; I will see if I can have + a little rest and sleep before I die.' + + And so she lay still, and had a sweet rest and sleep; and then + she awaked without any complaint, and in a quiet peaceable frame + of spirit laid down her head in peace, when the clock struck the + fifth hour of the 9th day of the 2nd month, 1680. + + We whose names are under-written were eye and ear witnesses of + what is before expressed, as near as could be taken, and does + not much vary from what she declared, as the substance (though + much more sweet and comfortable expressions passed from her, but + for brevity sake are willing this only to publish) who stood by + her when she drew her last breath. + + William Dewsbury, her Grandfather. + Mary Samm, her Mother. + Joan Dewsbury, her Aunt. + Hannah Whitthead, a Friend. + + +'AN UNDISTURBED MEETING.' + +I first heard this story graphically told by Ernest E. Taylor. His +intimate knowledge of the neighbourhood, and minute historical +researches into the lives of the Early Friends in this district, made +the whole scene vivid to his listener. In writing down my own account +from memory, some months later, I find I have unintentionally altered +some of the details, and have in particular allowed too long a time +for the soldiers' carouse, and have substituted a troop of horse for +militia. For these lapses from strict historical accuracy I alone am +responsible; but it has seemed better to leave the story as it was +written and to append the following note from the ancient MS. account +of the sufferings at Sedbergh, to show exactly what did occur: + +'1665. Friends being met at John Blaykling's at Draw-well, Lawrence +Hodgson of Dent, an Ensign to the Militia, came into the meeting with +other Militia men, cursing and swearing that if Friends would not +depart and disperse, he would kill them and slay and what not. Then as +Friends did not disperse they pulled them out of doors and so broke up +the meeting. The Ensign thereupon went off, expecting Friends to have +followed him, but they sat down and stood together at the house end [? +and] on the hill-side. So the Ensign came back and with his drawn +sword struck at several Friends and cut some in the hat and some in +the clothes, and so forced and drove them to Sedbergh town, where +after some chief men of the parish had been spoken with, Friends were +let go home in peace.'--_Sedbergh MSS. Sufferings._ + +It was of course the gathering together 'in numbers more than five' +and 'refusing to disperse' that was at this time illegal and made the +Friends liable to severe punishment. There is still a tradition in the +neighbourhood that the Quakers were to be taken not to Ingmire Hall, +but to the house of another Justice at Thorns. + + +'BUTTERFLIES IN THE FELLS.' + +See 'Bygone Northumberland,' by W. Andrews. 'Piety Promoted,' i. +88-90. W.C. Braithwaite's 'Beginnings of Quakerism,' p. 373. 'The +Society of Friends in Newcastle,' by J.W. Steel. + + +'THE VICTORY OF AMOR STODDART.' + +See George Fox's Journal, i. 185, 190, 261, 431; ii. 167. Sewel's +History, i. 29. 'Beginnings of Quakerism,' p. 365. + + +'THE MARVELLOUS VOYAGE OF THE GOOD SHIP "WOODHOUSE."' + +Taken from Robert Fowler's own account: 'A true Relation of the Voyage +undertaken by me Robert Fowler with my small vessel called the +"Woodhouse" but performed by the Lord like as he did Noah's ark, +wherein he shut up a few righteous persons and landed them safe, even +at the Hill Ararat,' published in the 'History of the Society of +Friends in America.' + +The scenes on Bridlington Quay and in London are not strictly +historical, but may be inferred from the above account. + + +'RICHARD SELLAR AND THE "MERCIFUL MAN."' + +Taken from Richard Sellar's own narrative: 'An account of the +sufferings of Richard Seller of Keinsey, a Fisherman who was prest in +Scarborough Piers, in the time of the two last engagements between the +Dutch and English, in the year 1665,' published in Besse's 'Sufferings +of the Quakers,' vol. ii. pp. 112-120. + + +'TWO ROBBER STORIES--WEST AND EAST.' + +(1) Leonard Fell and the Highwayman, taken from 'The Fells of +Swarthmoor Hall,' by M. Webb, p. 353. + +(2) On the Road to Jerusalem. Taken from George Robinson's own +account, published in 'A Brief History of the Voyage of Katharine +Evans and Sarah Cheevers.' pp. 207 ad fin. + + +'SILVER SLIPPERS.' + +Mainly historical. See Sewel's History, i. 294, 473; ii. 343. See also +'History of the Quakers,' by G. Croese, for some additional +particulars. The best account of Mary Fisher and her adventurous +journey is given in 'Quaker Women,' by Mabel R. Brailsford, Chapters +v. and vi., entitled 'Mary Fisher' and 'An Ambassador to the Grand +Turk.' I am indebted to Miss Brailsford for permission to draw freely +from her most interesting narrative, and also to quote from her +extracts from Paul Rycaut's History. + +The only historical foundation for the 'Silver Slippers' is the +statement by one historian that before Mary Fisher's interview with +the Sultan she was allowed twenty-four hours to rest and to 'arrange +her dress.' H.M. Wallis has kindly supplied me with some local +colouring and information about Adrianople. + + +'FIERCE FEATHERS.' + +A historical incident, with some imaginary actors. The outlines of +this story are given in 'Historical Anecdotes' by Pike. Several +additional particulars and the copy of a painting of the Indians at +Meeting are to be found in the Friends' Reference Library at +Devonshire House. For some helpful notes about the locality I am +indebted to H.P. Morris of Philadelphia, U.S.A. + + +'THE THIEF IN THE TANYARD.' + +Historical. The facts and the words of the speakers are taken almost +verbatim from Pike's 'Historical Anecdotes.' I have only supplied the +setting for the story. + + +'HOW A FRENCH NOBLE BECAME A FRIEND.' + +Entirely historical. All the facts are taken from the Autobiography of +Stephen Grellet. + + +'PREACHING TO NOBODY.' + +This story is not to be found in Stephen Grellet's Autobiography. It +appeared in 'The American Friend,' November 1895, and is now included +in the penny 'Life of Stephen Grellet' in the Friends Ancient and +Modern Series. The actual words of Stephen Grellet's sermon have not +been recorded. Those in the text are expanded from a sentence in +another discourse of his, given here in quotation marks. The incident +of the cracked mug is not historical. + + +THE END + +Printed in Great Britain by R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, Edinburgh. + + + + + + * * * * * + + +--------------------------------------------------------------+ + | Typographical errors corrected in text: | + | | + | Page 22: thinkng replaced with thinking | + | Page 148: twelye replaced with twelve | + | Page 275: thoughout replaced with throughout | + | | + +--------------------------------------------------------------+ + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BOOK OF QUAKER SAINTS*** + + +******* This file should be named 19605.txt or 19605.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/9/6/0/19605 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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