1654.
Oliver Cromwell in the beginning of the year 1654, seeing himself
invested with the supreme authority of the nation, required, both of
the soldiers and others, the oath of fidelity. But since amongst the
first, there were many, who, though convinced of the truth of the
doctrine of the Quakers so called, yet had not convenient opportunity
to leave the military service, it now presented itself; for when the
oath was tendered them, they declared that in obedience to Christ’s
command, they could not swear; whereupon they were disbanded. Among
these was John Stubbs, a man skilled not only in Latin, Greek, and
Hebrew, but also in the Oriental languages; he was convinced by G. Fox,
when in Carlisle prison, and became afterwards a faithful minister of
the gospel. But some of the soldiers, who had been convinced in their
judgment, not continuing steadfast, took the required oath, but not
long outlived it; for marching afterwards into Scotland, and passing by
a garrison there, these, thinking they had been enemies, fired at them,
whereby several were killed.
G. Fox now seeing the churches of his friends in the North settled,
passed from Swarthmore, (where he was about the beginning of this
year,) to Lancaster, and from thence to Synder-hill-green[6], where
he had a great meeting of some thousands of people, among whom were
many persons of note; and a general convincement there was, so that a
great number entered into the communion of those called Quakers: with
whom about this time, Ambrose Rigge was also united, who, having been
inclined to godliness from a youth, hearing G. Fox preach, and being
convinced of the truth of the doctrine he taught, received it, and
became a professor of it, though for that reason he was cast out by his
parents and relations.
[6] _Possibly Sinderhill-green.--Transcriber._
We have seen the first rise of these Christians, called Quakers, in
the North of England, and how they increased under the oppression
of persecution, so that in most places in those parts meetings were
settled: it remains to relate how they spread further.
There were now about sixty ministers of the word raised among them,
and these went out in the service of the gospel, to turn people,
where they could have an opportunity, from darkness to the light, and
from the power of Satan to God. Of these, Francis Howgill and Edward
Burrough, went to London; John Camm and John Audland, to Bristol;
Richard Hubberthorn and George Whitehead, to Norwich: Thomas Holmes
into Wales, and others other ways. G. Fox, well knowing this to be
a weighty work, writ a large epistle to these ministers, wherein he
admonished them to prudence, advising them, to know the seed of God,
which bruiseth the head of the serpent; also to know the power of God,
and the cross of Christ: to receive wisdom from God by the light; and
not to be hasty, or to run in their own wills, but to continue in
patience.
I will first mention somewhat of the occurrences at London, whither
Edward Burrough and Francis Howgill, with Anthony Pearson, who had
been a justice of peace, came in the forepart of the summer. Howgill
and Pearson, were the first of the people called Quakers, that had a
meeting in this great city, where they preached in the house of one
Robert Dring, in Watling-street; and Burrough was, as I have been
informed, that day in an assembly of a separate society. Yet I have
been told also, that Ruth, wife of William Crouch, merchant in London,
had said, that somewhat before that time, there had been in the said
house meetings of some few persons, of whom she was one; and also Anne
Downer, afterwards married to George Whitehead; that one Isabella
Buttery, with another woman, having spread in London some books, and
among these one of G. Fox’s, called, ‘The way to the Kingdom,’ had
met with this small company, of which were but two or three men, one
of which was Amos Stoddard, formerly a military officer, mentioned
already; and that the said Isabella sometimes spoke a few words in
this small meeting. But when F. Howgill and E. Burrough were come to
London, things began to have another face; for they laid hold of all
opportunities they could light on to preach the gospel.
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 in wrestling,
where generally a multitude of people stands gazing in a round. Now
it so fell out, that E. Burrough passed by the place where they
were wrestling, and standing still amongst the spectators, saw how
a strong and dexterous fellow had already thrown three others, and
was 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 as it were amazed at this sight,
eagerly expecting that would be the issue of this combat. But it was
quite another fight E. Burrough aimed at. For having already fought
against spiritual wickedness, that had once prevailed on him, and
having overcome 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 mixt multitude with no less attention than
admiration; for this speech tended to turn them from darkness to the
light, and from the power of Satan to God. To effect this he laboured
with convincing words, showing how God had not left himself without a
witness, but had given to man a measure of his grace, and enlightened
every one with the light of Christ. Thus he preached zealously; and
though many might look upon this as a novelty, yet it was of such
effect, that some were convinced of the Truth; for he was a breaker of
stony hearts, and therefore by a certain author, not unjustly, called
a son of thunder; though he also omitted not in due season, to speak
a word of consolation to those that were of a broken heart, and of a
contrite spirit.
But to thunder against sin and iniquity was his peculiar talent;
insomuch, that once preaching very zealously in meeting, and perceiving
there were some contrite souls, that wanted spiritually-refreshing
food, he was heard to intimate, that though his present speaking was
not milk for babes, yet he would remember such anon, and administer to
them also; but now he must thresh the whore. And indeed he was one of
those valiants, whose bow never turned back, nor sword empty from the
slaughter of the mighty; for the Lord blessed his powerful ministry
with very glorious success: 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. And
although coals of fire, as it were, came forth of his mouth, to the
consuming of briers and thorns, and he passing through unbeaten paths,
trampled upon wild thistles and luxuriant tares; yet his wholesome
doctrine dropped as the oil of joy upon the spirits of mourners in
Sion. Hence it was that Francis Howgill not unjustly said of him when
deceased, ‘Shall days, or months, or years, wear out thy name, as
though thou hadst had no being? Oh nay: shall not thy noble and valiant
acts, and mighty works which thou hast wrought, through the power of
him that separated thee from the womb, live in generations to come? Oh
yes! The children that are yet unborn shall have thee in their mouths,
and thy works shall testify of thee in the generations who yet have no
being.’
The said Howgill, also an eminent and eloquent man, being now at
London, went to court, to utter what was in his mind to Oliver
Cromwell. And after having spoke to him, he thought it convenient to
express himself further in writing; as he did in the following letter:
‘Friend,
‘I was moved of the Lord to come to thee, to declare the word of
the Lord, as I was moved of the Lord, and deal plainly with thee,
as I was commanded, and not to petition thee for any thing; but
to declare what the Lord had revealed to me, concerning thee; and
when I had delivered what I was commanded, thou questionedst it,
whether it was the word of the Lord or not, and soughtest by thy
reason to put it off; and we have waited some days since, but
cannot speak to thee, therefore I was moved to write to thee, and
clear my conscience, and to leave thee. Therefore hear the word
of the Lord. Thus saith the Lord, I chose thee out of all the
nations, when thou wast little in thy own eyes, and threw down
the mountains and the powers of the earth before thee, which had
established wickedness by a law, and I cut them down, and broke
the yokes and bonds of the oppressor, and made them stoop before
thee, and I made them as a plain before thee, that thou passedst
over them, and trode upon their necks; but thus saith the Lord,
now thy heart is not upright before me, but thou takest counsel,
and not of me; and thou art establishing peace, and not by
me; and thou art setting up laws, and not by me; and my name
is not feared, nor am I sought after; but thy own wisdom thou
establishest. What, saith the Lord, have I thrown down all the
oppressors, and broken their laws, and thou art now going about
to establish them again, and art going to build again, that which
I have destroyed? Wherefore, thus saith the Lord, Wilt thou limit
me, and set bounds to me, when, and where, and how, and by whom I
shall declare myself, and publish my name? Then will I break thy
cord, and remove thy stake, and exalt myself in thy overthrow.
Therefore this is the word of the Lord to thee, whether thou
wilt hear or forbear. If thou take not away all those laws which
are made concerning religion, whereby the people which are dear
in mine eyes are oppressed, thou shalt not be established; but
as thou hast trodden down my enemies by my power, so shalt thou
be trodden down by my power, and thou shalt know that I am the
Lord; for my gospel shall not be established by thy sword, nor
by thy law; but by my might, and by my power, and by my Spirit.
Unto thee, this is the word of the Lord, Stint not the eternal
Spirit, by which I will publish my name, when and where, and
how I will; for if thou dost, thou shalt be as dust before the
wind; the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it, and he will perform
his promise. For this is that I look for at thy hands, saith
the Lord, that thou shouldst undo the heavy burdens, and let
the oppressed go free. Are not many shut up in prison, and some
stocked, some stoned, some shamefully entreated? And some are
judged blasphemers by those who know not the Lord, and by those
laws which have been made by the will of man, and stand not in
the will of God; and some suffer now because they cannot hold up
the types, and so deny Christ come in the flesh; and some have
been shut up in prison, because they could not swear, and because
they abide in the doctrine of Christ; and some, for declaring
against sin openly in the markets, have suffered as evil-doers:
and now, if thou let them suffer in this nature by those laws,
and count it just; I will visit for those things, saith the Lord,
I will break the yoke from off their necks, and I will bring
deliverance another way, and thou shalt know that I am the Lord.
‘Moved of the Lord to declare and write this, by a servant of the
Truth for Jesus’s sake, and a lover of thy soul, called,
FRANCIS HOWGILL.’
The last of the First Month, about
the ninth hour, waiting in James’s
Park, at London.
How this was received, I am not acquainted; but this I have understood,
that some of Cromwell’s servants, and among these one Theophilus
Green, and Mary, afterwards wife of Henry Stout, were so reached by F.
Howgill’s discourse, that after some time they entered into the society
of the Quakers, so called.
Now in the said letter, or speech, we find notice taken of laws made
concerning religion: these I do not look upon as made by the induction
of Cromwell; but such as were made in former times, which he could
have altered, if he would have done it: as afterwards many penal laws
were abrogated, under the reign of King William and Queen Mary, as
will be said in its proper place. For I do not find that in Cromwell’s
time any laws were made to constrain people to frequent the worship
of the public or national church. But notwithstanding, the Quakers,
so called, were imprisoned for refusing to swear, or for not paying
tithes to maintain the priests; and they were whipped like vagabonds,
for preaching in markets, or in other public places; or they were fined
for not taking off their hats before magistrates; for this was called
contempt of the magistracy; and when for conscience sake they refused
to pay such a fine, either the spoiling of goods, or imprisonment
became their share: and thus always a cloak or cover was found to
persecute them, and malice never wanted pretences to vex them. And it
also often happened that E. Burrough and F. Howgill were opposed by the
chiefest of several sects, whereby disputes were raised, which many
times gave occasion for some of the hearers to embrace the doctrine
maintained by the said Burrough and Howgill; which so enraged their
enemies, that no slanders were spared, and they sometimes branded them
as witches.
In the meanwhile the people called Quakers so increased in London,
that they began to have settled meetings, the first of which was in
Aldersgate Street, at the house of one Sarah Sawyer. The first among
woman of this society that preached at London publicly, was the already
mentioned Anne Downer, afterwards married to one Greenwell, and being
become a widow, in process of time entered into matrimony with George
Whitehead, as hath been hinted already.
The number of the said people increasing at London from time to time,
several meetings were now erected there, one of which was in the
house of one Bates, in Tower Street, and another at Gerard Robert’s,
in Thomas Apostles; until the church became so great, that a house
known by the name of the Bull and Mouth, in Martin’s le Grand, near
Aldersgate, was hired for a meeting-house; and it being a building that
had belonged to some great man, there was a large hall in it that would
hold many people, and so was very convenient for a meeting place.
Abundance of books were now spread against the Quakers, as seducers
and false prophets; and these written by the priests and teachers of
several sects: for they perceiving that many of their hearers forsook
them, left no stone unturned to stop it. But the event did not answer
their hope, since Burrough and Howgill did not suffer those writings to
go unanswered, but clearly showed the malice and absurdities of those
writers.
Leaving them busy with this work, we will take a turn toward Bristol,
to behold the performances of John Audland, and Thomas Airey; who came
thither in the month called July in this year, and going into the
meetings of the Independents and Baptists, they found opportunity to
preach Truth there, and also had occasion to speak to others, so that
many received their testimony.
From thence they went to Plymouth in Devonshire, and so to London,
where they met with John Camm; but after some stay there, John Audland
returned to Bristol with John Camm, and found there a door opened for
their ministry. Among those that did receive their testimony, were
Josiah Cole, George Bishop, Charles Marshal, and Barbara Blaugdone,
concerning which persons more is to be said hereafter. It was not long
ere F. Howgill and E. Burrough, having gathered a church at London,
came also to Bristol, where persecution now began to appear with open
face: for the magistrates commanded them to depart the city and the
liberties thereof; to which they answered, that they came not in the
will of man; and that when He who moved them to come thither, did move
them also to depart, they should obey; that if they were guilty of the
transgression of any law, they were not unwilling to suffer by it; that
they were free-born Englishmen, being free from the transgression of
any law; and that if by violence they were put out of the city, they
were ready to suffer, and would not resist; and so they departed out of
the presence of the rulers. But now the priests, especially one Ralph
Farmer, began to incite and enrage the people, and to set the city, as
it were, on fire.
Hence it was that J. Camm and J. Audland, intending to have a
meeting at Brislington, about two miles from Bristol, and passing
over a bridge, were assaulted by the rabble of the city, and several
apprentices of Farmer’s parish, who having got notice of their
coming, were gathered there, and violently abused them with beating,
kicking, and a continual cry, knock them down, kill them, or hang
them presently. Thus they were driven back, and forced into the city
again, narrowly escaping with their lives. But the tumult did not yet
cease; for some of the multitude were heard to say, that they should
find more protection from the magistrates, than those strangers,
viz. Camm and Audland. But the officers of the garrison, thinking it
unwarrantable to permit such a tumult, since it was not without reason
to be feared, that the royalists, or abettors of King Charles, might
take hold of such an opportunity to raise an insurrection, caused
three of the ringleaders to be seized; but this made such a stir, that
the next day more than five hundred people, as it was thought, were
gathered together in a seditious manner, so that their companions were
set at liberty. This made the tumultuous mob more bold and saucy, the
rather because they saw that the magistrates, hearing that J. Camm and
J. Audland not only had kept a meeting at Brislington, but also had
visited some in their houses at Bristol, had bid them to depart the
town.
Now the riotous multitude did not stick to rush violently into the
houses of the Quakers, so called, at Bristol, under a pretence of
preventing treasonable plottings. And when some in zeal told the
priests, these were the fruits of their doctrine, they incited the
people the more, and induced the magistrates to imprison some of
those called Quakers. This instigated the rabble to that degree, that
now they thought they had full liberty to use all kind of insolence
against the said people; beating, smiting, pushing, and often treading
upon them, till blood was shed: for they were become a prey to every
malapert fellow, as a people that were without the protection of the
law. This often caused a tumult in the town; and some said, (not
without good reason,) that the apprentices durst not have left their
work, had not their masters given them leave. And a certain person
informed the mayor and aldermen upon his oath, that he had heard an
apprentice say, that they had leave from their masters, and were
encouraged; for alderman George Hellier had said, he would die rather
than any of the apprentices should go to prison. Now an order of
sessions came forth, that the constables do once in every fortnight,
make diligent search within their several wards, for all strangers
and suspicious persons; and that all people be forewarned, not to be
present at any tumult, or other unlawful assembly, or gather into
companies or multitudes in the streets, on pain of being punished
according to law. But this order was to little purpose, for the
tumultuous companies and riots continued; and once when a proclamation
was read in the name of the Lord Protector, requiring every one to
depart, some of the rioters were heard to say, ‘What do you tell us of
a Protector? tell us of King Charles.’ In the meanwhile the Quakers,
so called, were kept in prison, and it plainly appeared that the order
against unlawful assemblies was levelled against their meetings: and
though the magistrates pretended that they must answer for it to
the Protector, if they did let the Quakers alone without disturbing
their meetings, which at that time, for the most part, were silent,
and nothing was spoken, but when now and then one of their ministers
from abroad visited them; yet this was not at all agreeable with the
Protector’s speech he made on the 12th of the month called September,
to the parliament, in the painted chamber, where he spoke these words:
‘Is not liberty of conscience in religion a fundamental? so long
as there is liberty for the supreme magistrate, to exercise
his conscience in erecting what form of church government he
is satisfied he should set up, why should he not give it to
others? 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. Indeed that hath been the vanity of our
contests: every sect saith, Give me liberty; but give it him,
and to his power he will not yield it to any body else. Where
is our ingenuity? Truly that is a thing that ought to be very
reciprocal. The magistrate hath his supremacy, and he may settle
religion according to his conscience. And I may say to you, I can
say it, all the money in the nation would not have tempted men
to fight upon such an account as they have engaged, if they had
not had hopes of liberty, better than they had from episcopacy,
or than would have been afforded them from a Scottish Presbytery,
or an English either, if it had made such steps, or been as
sharp and rigid as it threatened when it was first set up. This
I say is a fundamental: it ought to be so. It is for us and the
generations to come.’
Cromwell spoke more in confirmation hereof; and indeed he would have
been a brave man, if really he had performed what he asserted with
binding arguments. But though now he seemed to disapprove the behaviour
of Presbytery, (for then he was for Independency,) yet after some time
he courted the Presbyterians; and these fawning upon him from the
pulpit, as their preserver and the restorer of the church, he suffered
the Quakers to be persecuted under his government, though he pretended
not to know it, when he might easily have stopt it. But by hearkening
to the flatteries of the clergy, at length he lost his credit, even
with those who with him had fought for the common liberty; and thus
at last befel him after his death, what he seemed to have imprecated
on himself in the foregoing speech, if he departed from allowing
due liberty. For he further said, that many of the people had been
necessitated to go into the vast howling wilderness in New England, for
the enjoyment of their liberty; and that liberty was a fundamental of
the government; adding, that it had cost much blood to have it so, and
even the hazarding of all. And in the conclusion he said, that he could
sooner be willing to be rolled into his grave, and buried with infamy,
than give his consent to the wilful throwing away of that government;
so testified unto in the fundamentals of it. Now who knows not what
infamy befel him afterwards, when in the reign of King Charles the
Second, it is said, his corpse was digged up, and buried near the
gallows, as may be further mentioned in its due place?
But I return now to Bristol, where several were kept in prison still,
and no liberty granted them; nay, they were even charged with what
they utterly denied themselves to be guilty of. Among these, one John
Worring was accused of having called the priest, Samuel Grimes, a
devil: but Worring denied this, though he did not stick to say, he
could prove somewhat like it by his own words. And it being asked him
how, he answered, that the priest had said at the meeting, that in all
things he did, he sinned; and if in all things, then as well in his
preaching, as in other things; and he that sinneth is of the devil.
If you will not believe me, believe the Scriptures. It may be easily
conjectured that this answer did not please the priests’ followers, and
therefore Worring and some others were kept in prison: and among these
also Elizabeth Marshall, who in the steeple-house, after the priest
John Knowls had dismissed the people with what is called the blessing,
spoke to him, and said, ‘This is the word of the Lord to thee. I warn
thee to repent, and to mind the light of Christ in thy conscience.’ And
when the people, by order of the magistrates then present, violently
assaulted her, giving her many blows with staves and cudgels, she
cried out, ‘The mighty day of the Lord is at hand, wherein he will
strike terror on the wicked.’ Some time before she spoke also in the
steeple-house to the priest Ralph Farmer, after he had ended his sermon
and prayer, and said, ‘This is the word of the Lord to thee. Wo, wo, wo
from the Lord to them who take the word of the Lord in their mouths,
and the Lord never sent them.’
A good while after this, the magistrates gave out the following warrant:
_‘City of Bristol._
‘To all the constables within this city, and to every one of them.
‘Forasmuch as information hath been given us, that John Camm, and
John Audland, two strangers, who were commanded to depart this
city, have, in contempt of authority, come into this city again,
to the disturbance of the public peace: these are therefore to
will and require you forthwith to apprehend them, and bring them
before us to be examined, according to law. Given this 22d of
January, 1654. Signed,
_William Cann_,
_Joseph Jackson_,
_Gabriel Sherman_,
_Richard Vickris, Dept. Mayor_,
_Henry Gibbs_,
_John Lock_.’
Camm and Audland had departed the town before this time, having never
been commanded, (as the warrant saith,) to depart the city, either by
the magistrates themselves, or by any other at their command; though
F. Howgill and E. Burrough had been required to do so. So this warrant
proving ineffectual, the magistrates caused another to be formed in
these words:
_‘City of Bristol._
‘To the constables of the peace of the ward of ---- and to every
of them.
‘Forasmuch as information hath been given us upon oath, that
certain persons of the Franciscan order in Rome, have of late
come over into England, and under the notion of Quakers, drawn
together several multitudes of people in London; and whereas
certain strangers, going under the names of John Camm, John
Audland, George Fox, James Nayler, Francis Howgill, and Edward
Burrough, and others unknown, have lately resorted to this city,
and in like manner, under the notion of Quakers, drawn multitudes
of people after them, and occasioned very great disturbances
amongst us; and forasmuch as by the said information it appeareth
to us to be very probable, and much to be suspected, that the
said persons so lately come hither, are some of those that came
from Rome, as aforesaid; these are therefore in the name of his
highness, the lord protector, to will and require you to make
diligent search through your ward for the aforesaid strangers, or
any of them, and all other suspected persons, and to apprehend
and bring them before us, or some of us, to be examined and dealt
with according to law: hereof fail you not. Given the 25th of
Jan. 1654. Signed,
_John Gunning, Mayor._
_Gabriel Sherman_,
_Henry Gibbs_,
_George Hellier_,
_Gabriel Sherman_,
_William Cann_,
_Joseph Jackson_,
_John Lock_,
_Richard Vickris_.’
Hereunto these magistrates affixed their seals; and that alderman
Sherman might be sure his name was down, he wrote it twice. How
frivolous this pretence of persons of the Franciscan order was, even a
child might perceive; for the Quakers were by this time so multiplied
in the North of England, that they could no more be looked upon as an
unknown people. And as for G. Fox, and James Nayler, they had not yet
been at Bristol, and therefore it seemed absurd to seek for them there.
But it was thought expedient to brand the Quakers with odious names,
that so under the cloak thereof, they might be persecuted as disturbers
of the public peace: as appeared when one Thomas Robertson, and Josiah
Cole, being at Nicholas’ steeple-house, and standing both still without
speaking a word, until the priest Hazzard had ended, and dismissed the
people, were very rudely treated; for Thomas then lifting up his voice,
was presently, even when the word was yet in his mouth, struck on the
head by many, as was also his companion, though he did not attempt to
speak. But Thomas, after being a little recovered of a heavy blow,
began to speak again, and said to the people, ‘Tremble before the Lord,
and the word of his holiness.’ But this so kindled their anger, that
they were both hurried out of the steeple-house, and with great rage
driven to the mayor’s, who commanded them both to Newgate prison.
Not long after one Jeremy Hignel, being in his shop attending his
calling, was sent for by the mayor and aldermen, to come before them;
which he presently doing, the mayor asked him whether he knew where
he was; he answered he did. Then the mayor asked where; he replied,
‘In the presence of the Lord.’ ‘Are you not,’ said the mayor, ‘in
the presence of the Lord’s justices?’ his answer was, ‘If you be the
Lord’s justices, I am.’ Whereupon one of the aldermen said, without any
more words passing at that time, ‘We see what he is; take him away to
Newgate.’ For since he did not take off his hat, it was concluded he
was a Quaker, and this was counted cause enough to send him to prison;
and so he was immediately brought thither, where the keeper received
him without a mittimus, and kept him close prisoner nineteen days,
permitting none to come to him but his wife.
No better was the treatment of Daniel Wastfield, who, being sent for by
the mayor, appeared before him, and alderman Vickris; then the mayor
said to him, ‘Wastfield, come hither;’ and he thereupon drawing near,
the mayor asked him three several times, ‘What art thou?’ Though he
knew him well enough, having called him by his name as above said.
Wastfield answered, ‘I am a man.’ ‘But what’s thy name?’ said the
mayor. ‘My name is Daniel Wastfield,’ answered he. Then said the mayor
to one of his officers, ‘Take him and carry him to Newgate;’ further
adding, that he came thither to contemn justice: to which Wastfield
replied, ‘No, I came hither in obedience to thy order;’ for the mayor
had sent for him, as hath been said. Thus he was carried away without
a mittimus, the mayor saying his word was a mittimus; and he was kept
a close prisoner thirty-three days, and none suffered to come to him
but his servants, notwithstanding he was a widower, and must now leave
his house and trade to their management; and a child of his died in the
meanwhile, and was buried, and he kept from seeing it.
The magistrates having thus begun persecution, became from time to time
more vigorous in it, insomuch, that several others were imprisoned,
and among these Christopher Birkhead, who, standing still in Nicholas’
steeple-house, with his hat on, and being asked by the priest, Ralph
Farmer, what he stood there for; answered, ‘I stand in obedience to the
righteous law of God in my conscience; I have neither offended the law
of God, nor of the nation. A wonderful and horrible thing is committed
in the land.’ More he would have spoken, but was stopped with beating
and thrusting, and so carried to prison.
Now the magistrates were not a little incited to persecution by the
said Farmer; and there being several that were very bold, they did not
stick to write sharp letters to him; and his indecent carriage was also
told him to his face, by word of mouth, in the steeple-house, after
sermon; and those who did so, were sent to prison. At length these
prisoners were brought to trial; and since it could not be proved that
they had transgressed any law, some of the magistrates seemed inclined
to set them at liberty, if they would have declared that they were
sorry for what they had done. Among them was also one William Foord,
and nothing material being found against him, but that he was one of
those called Quakers, he was accused of having kept a stranger at work;
which he however esteemed to be lawful, since his trade of wool-combing
did not belong to the company of milliners, who complained of him. Yet
he was asked whether he was sorry for what he had done; which denying,
as well as those who had reproved the priests, he that was not guilty
was sent to prison again, as well as those that were pretended to be
so. Among these last was also Sarah Goldsmith, who, from a well meant
zeal to testify against pride, having a coat of sackcloth, and her hair
dishevelled, with earth or dust strewed on her head, had gone through
the city without receiving any considerable harm from the people,
because some looked upon her to be crack-brained. There was also one
Temperance Hignel, who, having said in the steeple-house to the priest,
after he had ended his sermon, ‘Wo from the Lord God to thee, Jacob
Brint,’ was presently struck down, and so violently abused, that blood
ran down her face, and she, being committed to prison, fell sick; and
when they saw her life was in danger, she was carried out in a basket,
and died three days after. The reason she gave, when in prison, why she
spoke in that manner to the priest was, that he had scarce any hearers,
but what were swearers, drunkards, strikers, fighters, and railers,
&c. And that therefore his ministry was in vain, since he preached for
gain; whereas he himself ought to have brought forth good fruits.
How long the others were kept in prison, I do not know certainly;
however, it was a pretty long time; for George Bishop, and Dennis
Hollister, who formerly had been a member of the parliament, and three
others, put all these transactions in writing at large, and sent it
to the magistrates, in hopes that thereby they might see the evil of
persecution: but this proving in vain, they gave it out in print five
months after, that so every one might know how the Bristollers treated
their inhabitants, which was to that degree, that an author said, ‘Was
such a tyrannical iniquity and cruelty ever heard of in this nation? Or
would the ministers under king Charles have ventured to do so? Was not
Stafford but a mean transgressor in comparison of these?’ And though
archbishop Laud was beheaded, yet it could not be proved that the
Episcopalians had persecuted so fiercely, as these pretended asserters
of liberty of conscience had done, who, being got into possession of
the power, did oppress more than those they had driven out. This made
the persecuted, some of which formerly had also fought for the common
liberty, the more in earnest against those that were now in authority.
But I will turn away from Bristol towards Norwich, whither Richard
Hubberthorn, and George Whitehead were gone. Here it happened, that R.
Hubberthorn, having spoken to a priest in a steeple-house yard, and not
having taken off his hat before the magistrates, was imprisoned in the
castle, where he was kept great part of the following year, and in the
meanwhile, writ several epistles of exhortation to his friends; and his
companion, G. Whitehead’s preaching had such an effect, that a meeting
of their friends was settled in that city.
But before I go on, it will be convenient to give some account of the
quality of these two persons: R. Hubberthorn was born in the North of
Lancashire, and descended from very honest parents: his father was a
yeoman of good reputation among men, and Richard was his only son, and
from a youth inclined to piety. Being come to man’s estate, he became
an officer in the parliament’s army, and from a zeal for godliness,
preached sometimes to his soldiers. But entering afterwards into the
society of the Quakers so called, he left his military employment,
and testified publicly against it; for he was now become a soldier
under another banner, viz. that of Christ Jesus, Prince of Peace; not
fighting as formerly, with the outward sword, but with the sword of the
Spirit, which is the word of God. In his ministry he had an excellent
gift, and though not so loud in voice as some others, yet he was a man
of a quick understanding, and very edifying in his preaching.
G. Whitehead, (who, whilst I write this, is yet alive,) was trained up
to learning, and though but a youth, instructed others in literature,
and continued in that calling sometime after he came to be convinced of
that Truth which was preached by the professors of the light; and he
strove to bring up children in the fear of the Lord. But before this
change he was a diligent hearer of the world’s teachers, and usually
frequented the steeple-house at Orton in Westmoreland: yet the singing
of David’s psalms became so burdensome to him, that sometimes he
could not join therewith; for he saw that David’s conditions were not
generally suitable to the states of a mixed multitude; and he found
himself to be short of what they sung. This consideration brought him
into such a strait, that often he durst not sing those psalms the
priests gave their hearers to sing, lest he should have told lies unto
God. Now also he began to see that the priests’ lives and practices
did not agree with their doctrine; for they themselves spoke against
pride and covetousness, and yet lived in them. This likewise made him
go to hear some that were separated from the national church, and got
into a more specious form of godliness; but he soon saw, that, though
there was a difference in the ceremonial part, and that these had a
more true form of words than the priests, yet they were such as ran
before they were sent by God, speaking peace to that nature in him,
wherein he felt no true peace. And when he was about seventeen years of
age, which was in the year 1652, he first heard the doctrine of Truth
preached by those that were reproachfully called Quakers; and their
testimony wrought so powerfully on his mind, that he received it, and
so entered into their communion. Now he found, that to grow up in the
true wisdom, and to become wise in the living knowledge of God, he must
become a fool to that wisdom, wherein he had been feeding upon the
tree of knowledge, having in that state no right to the tree of life:
and he continuing in faithfulness, it pleased the Lord to ordain him a
minister of the gospel: in which service he acquitted himself well, to
the convincing of others, and the edification of the church.
But now leaving him, let us go and see what happened at Oxford in the
year 1654. At the latter end of the month called June, there came
two women, named Elizabeth Heavens, and Elizabeth Fletcher. These
spoke in the streets to the people, and in the college they exhorted
the scholars, who wickedly requiting their zeal, violently pushed
Elizabeth Fletcher against a grave-stone, and then threw her into the
grave; and their malice grew to that pitch, that they tied these two
women together, and drove them under the pump: and after their being
exceedingly wetted with pumping water upon them, they threw them into
a miry ditch, through which they dragged Elizabeth Fletcher, who was
a young woman, and so cruelly abused her, that she was in a painful
condition till her death, which fell out not long after. Some short
time after this rude encounter, she and her companion, on a First-day
of the week, went into the steeple-house at Oxford, and when the
priest had ended, they began to admonish the people to godliness: but
two justices there present, commanded them to be taken into custody,
and carried to the prison called Bocardo, where none but felons were
used to be lodged. The justices desiring the magistrates to meet on
this account, the mayor would not meddle with it, but said, ‘Let those
who have committed them deal with them according to law, if they have
transgressed any;’ adding that he had nothing to say against them;
but that he would provide them with victuals, clothes, or money, if
they wanted any. Yet he came into the assembly where these women were
examined, and whither the vice-chancellor of the university was also
required to come, who charged them, that they blasphemed the name of
God, and did abuse the Spirit of God, and dishonoured the grace of
Christ: and asking them whether they did read the Scriptures, they
answered yea they did. Then he asked whether they were not obedient
to the power of the magistrate; to which their answer was, they were
obedient to the power of God, and to the power that was of God they
were subject for conscience-sake. ‘Well,’ said the vice-chancellor,
‘you profane the word of God, and I fear you know not God, though
you so much speak of him.’ Then the women being made to withdraw,
it was concluded that there was matter enough for their commitment
and punishment, and agreed that a paper should be drawn up for their
being whipped out of the city. When this was done, it was presented
to the mayor to set his hand to it; but he refused, and said he was
not willing to do so. Then one of the justices said, that it was
the privilege of the city, that if any vagrant was taken within the
franchises and liberties thereof, a paper must be drawn up, that such
a one, mayor, had committed such and such persons; and that then it
was to be sealed with the office seal. But the mayor refused this as
well as the other. Which made some say, that if he would not, it should
be done by them. And then it was agreed upon, that they should be
whipped soundly; which was performed the next morning, though with much
unwillingness in the executioner: and the mayor had no hand in it.
But leaving these, I will turn to another, one Barbara Blaugdone, of
whom mention hath already been made, that she was one of those that
received the Truth, by the ministry of John Audland and John Camm. She
was from her youth inclined to godliness, and her employment was to
instruct children. But being entered into the society of those called
Quakers, she became plain, both in speech and habit, and thereupon the
children she taught, were taken from her; and, going sometimes into the
steeple-houses, to bear testimony against their formalities, she was
put in prison, and kept there a quarter of a year at a time. Afterwards
she led a very severe life, and abstained from all flesh, wine, and
beer, drinking only water for the space of a whole year. In the
meanwhile she grew up and prospered in true piety. Once it happened,
that coming from a meeting that was at George Bishop’s house at
Bristol, a rude fellow ran a knife, or some sharp instrument, through
all her clothes, into the side of her belly, which if it had gone but
a little further, might have killed her. Then she went to Marlborough,
where, exhorting people, in the steeple-houses and other places, to
fear God, she was put into prison for the space of six weeks, and there
she fasted several days and nights. When she was released, she went to
Isaac Burges, the man that committed her, and discoursing with him, he
was really convinced of the Truth, but could not resolve to take up the
cross; yet he was afterwards very loving to her friends, and stood by
them upon all occasions, never more persecuting any of them: and coming
some time after to Bristol, he went to her house and confessed, that he
knew her doctrine was Truth, but that he could not take up the cross to
walk in that way. A while after she went into Devonshire, to Moulton,
Barnstable, and Bediford, in all which places a prison was her lot. She
went also to him, that after was earl of Bath, where, being acquainted,
she had formerly vainly spent much time, but now she was moved to call
this family to leave off their vanity. And she asked to speak with the
lady; but one of the servants that knew her, bid her to go to the back
door, and their lady would come forth that way, to go into the garden.
Barbara being come thither, a great mastiff dog was set loose upon her;
and he running fiercely, as if to devour her, turned suddenly, and
went away crying and halting, whereby she clearly saw the hand of the
Lord in it, to preserve her from this danger. The lady then came and
stood still, hearing what Barbara spoke, and gave her thanks for her
exhortation, yet did not invite her to come in, though she often had
been lodged there, and had eaten and drank at her table.
Then Barbara went to Great Torrington, and, going into the
steeple-house, spoke somewhat to the people by way of exhortation;
but not having sufficient opportunity to clear herself, went to her
lodging, and sat to writing. After noon the constables came to her, and
took away what she had written, and commanded her to go along with them
to their worship. To which she answered, that they would not suffer
her to speak there, and that she knew no law that could compel her to
go thither twice in a day; and that they all knew she was there in the
morning. Being thus unwilling to go, the next day the mayor sent for
her; when come, she found him moderate, and loth to send her to prison;
but the priest being present, was very eager, and said she ought to be
whipped for a vagabond. She then bid him prove where ever she asked any
one for a bit of bread; but he said she had broken the law by speaking
in their church; and he so pressed the mayor, that at length he made
him write a mittimus, and send her to Exeter prison, which was twenty
miles distant: there she remained for some time, until the assizes
came, but was not brought forth to a trial. And after the sessions
were over, she was put to lodge one night among a great company of
gypsies, that were then in prison; and the next day the sheriff came
with a beadle, who brought her into a room, where he whipped her till
the blood ran down her back, and she never startled at a blow; but sang
aloud, and was made to rejoice that she was counted worthy to suffer
for the name of the Lord; which made the beadle say, ‘Do ye sing? I
will make you cry by and by;’ and with that he laid on so hard, that
one Ann Speed seeing this began to weep; but Barbara was strengthened
by an uncommon and more than human power, so that she afterwards
declared if she had been whipped to death in the state she then was,
she should not have been terrified or dismayed. And the sheriff seeing
that all the wrath of man could not move her, bid the fellow leave
off striking; and then Ann Speed was suffered to dress her stripes.
The next day she was turned out with all the gypsies, and the beadle
followed her two miles out of the town; but as soon as he left her, she
returned back, and went into the prison to see her friends, that were
prisoners there, and having visited them, she went home to Bristol.
But by the way coming to Bediford, she was taken up, and put into the
town-hall, and searched to see whether she had either knife or scissors
about her. Next day she was brought before the mayor, who discoursing
much with her, had a sense of what she spoke to him; and at last he set
open two doors, one right against the other, and said he would give
her her choice, which she would go out at; whether she would go forth
to prison again, or go home. And she told him, that she would choose
liberty rather than bonds. So she went homeward, and then he took
his horse and followed; and overtaking her, would have had her ride
behind him; but when any whom he knew met them, he would slacken his
pace; and as soon as they were passed, he came up again to her; which
she perceiving, refused to ride behind him; yet he rode three or four
miles with her, and discoursed all the way: and when they parted, she
kneeled down and prayed for him, all which time he was very serious,
and afterwards grew very solid and sober. She writ once to him; but not
long after, he died.
Being come home she was moved to go to Basingstoke, to endeavour to
obtain liberty for two of her friends, viz. Thomas Robinson, and
Ambrose Rigge, who were taken up at the first meeting that their
friends had had there. But when she came thither the entrance of the
prison was denied her. And she having a letter from John Camm to them,
put it in at the chink of the door, and then she went to the mayor to
desire their liberty; he told her, that if he saw the letter which she
brought them, they should have their liberty. She then said he should
see it; and so went and fetched it; which he having read, told her that
she should have her brethren out; but that he could not let them out
presently. Yet it was not long before her friends had their liberty.
Now leaving Barbara for some time, we return to Miles Halhead. In
the First month of this present year, he was moved to go to Ireland,
and declare the word of the Lord there; and speaking of this to
James Lancaster, and Miles Bateman, they quickly resolved to keep
him company, and so they went for Ireland; where they proclaimed the
Truth in cities, towns, villages, and before magistrates, as occasion
offered; and their testimony was received by many. After they had
discharged themselves, they returned to England, where Miles soon found
himself moved to go to Scotland. In his way thither, he met his friend
James Lancaster, who was very free to go with him; and so they went
into Scotland; but were not the first of those called Quakers in that
country; for Christopher Fell, George Wilson, and John Grave, had been
there before; so that a little church of those of their communion,
was already planted in that kingdom, before Halhead went thither: and
one Alexander Hamilton had, a year before ever any Quakers appeared
in Scotland, erected a meeting at Drumbowy, and also at Heads, and
he received their testimony when they came there, as also his wife
Joan, James Gray, James Miller, and others. I find also that Scotland
was early visited by Catherine Evans, and Sarah Cheevers, two eminent
women, of whom something extraordinary is to be related in its due time.
But I return to J. Lancaster, and Miles Halhead, who being come to
Dumfries, went on a First-day of the week into the steeple-house in
that town, where seeing many people gathered together, howling and
crying, and making great lamentation, as if they had been touched
with a sense of their sins, Miles was silent until their worship was
done; but then, being grieved with their deceit and hypocrisy, spoke
as he was moved; but met with great opposition, many of the people
being in such a rage, that they drove him and his companion out of the
town, near to the side of a great river; and it was intended that the
women of the town should stone them; but they prevented this by wading
through the river.
Being thus safely passed the water, they went to Edinburgh and Leith,
where they staid about ten days. During that time, Miles spoke to
the people when occasion offered; as also to the garrisons, and to
the captains and officers of the army, who were much affected, and
confessed that the Lord had been very good unto them; for Miles’s
message was, that the anger of the Lord was kindled against them,
because they had not performed their promises, which they made to him
in the day of their distress, when their enemies encompassed them on
every side; for then the Lord delivered them, and gave them victory;
but they had returned him evil for good, and committed violence against
those he sent to declare his word amongst them. This being told them at
large by Miles, he went to Glasgow and Stirling, where he also spoke as
he was moved; and so returned to England.
But before I leave Scotland, I may say, that as the first meetings were
at Drumbowy, and Heads, so it was not long ere meetings were settled
also at Garshore, at Edinburgh, and also at Aberdeen. The first Scotch
preachers of those called Quakers, I find to have been William Osborn,
Richard Ree, and Alexander Hamilton, already mentioned. Of the said
Hamilton, I may mention a singular instance: after he and his wife,
with her and his sister, had separated themselves from the society of
the Independents, it happened that Thomas Charters, a teacher of that
sect, at Kilbride, not far from Drumbowy, seeing that he could not draw
Hamilton, and those of his family back again, threatened them with
excommunication, and appointed a day for it, giving notice thereof
to Hamilton some days beforehand. Hamilton warned him to forbear, or
else the anger of God would seize on him. But he answered, ‘It is but
Alexander Hamilton that saith so.’ To which Hamilton returned in the
presence of many witnesses, that it was not only he, but what he had
said was of the Lord. But Charters persisting in what he intended, and
walking two days before the appointed time in the steeple-house yard,
where his horse was feeding, stepped to him to stroke him; but the
horse growing wanton, gave Charters such a violent kick on his side,
that he died about the same hour which was appointed by him for the
excommunication. Whether this case happened in the year I now describe,
I am not certain; but however, it was either in, or near it.
This year Miles Halhead came to Berwick in Northumberland, and went to
the mayor of that town, and spoke to him in his shop thus; ‘Friend,
hear what the servant of the Lord hath to say unto thee. Give over
persecuting the Lord’s servants, whom he doth send in love to this town
of Berwick, to show you the way that leads to life eternal. I charge
thee, O man, touch not the Lord’s anointed, nor do his prophets any
harm, lest thou procure the anger of the living eternal God against
thee.’ This bold language so offended the mayor, that he sent Miles
to prison, where he was about ten weeks, and then was brought to the
sessions, where a bill drawn up against him, was read in open court:
but he denied the contents thereof, yet said, ‘But what I said to
the mayor of this town, I will not deny.’ And then he related the
aforesaid words he spoke to the mayor. Whereupon the recorder said,
‘Sirs, as I understand by his own words, if he cannot prove the mayor
of the town a persecutor, in my judgment he hath wronged him.’ To this
Miles answered, ‘If the mayor of this town of Berwick, dare say in the
presence of the Lord, whose presence is here, that he is no persecutor,
but the persecuting nature is slain in him, I will be willing to abide
the judgment of the court.’ Then the clerk of the court said, ‘Mr.
Mayor, if you will say that you are no persecutor, but the persecuting
nature is slain in you, he is willing to abide the judgment of the
court.’ To this the mayor answered, ‘I know not what to do; I would
I had never seen him; I pray you, let him go, and let us be no more
troubled with him.’ Then Miles said that he would prove this mayor of
Berwick the greatest persecutor in town or country. ‘I was once, [thus
he went on,] committed to the prison in this town before, by some of
the justices that are now in this court; but thou, O man, hast exceeded
them all; thou hast committed me, and kept me in close prison, for
about ten weeks, for speaking to thy own person, in thy own shop. Now
I make my appeal to the recorder of this town of Berwick, as I am a
free-born Englishman, whether my imprisonment be legal, according to
the law of this nation, or not?’ Then the recorder of the town stood
up and said, ‘It is not very legal for any minister of the law to
imprison any man in his own cause.’ Then the court cried, ‘Take him
away.’ The chief priest of the town then stood, and desired the court
that he might ask Miles one question; to this Miles said, ‘The Lord
knows thy heart, O man, and at this present has revealed thy thoughts
to his servant; and therefore now I know thy heart also, thou high
priest, and the question thou wouldst ask me: and if thou wilt promise
me before the court, that if I tell thee the question thou wouldst
ask me, thou wilt deal plainly with me, I will not only tell thee thy
query, but I will answer it.’ Then the priest said he would. Then Miles
proceeded: ‘Thy question is this: thou wouldst know whether I own that
Christ that died at Jerusalem, or not?’ To this the priest wondering,
said, ‘Truly that is the question.’ Then Miles said, ‘According to
my promise, I will answer it before this court: in the presence of
the Lord God of heaven, I own no other Christ than him that died at
Jerusalem, and made a good confession before Pontius Pilate, to be the
light and way that leads fallen man out of sin and evil, up to God
eternal, blessed for evermore.’ More questions were not asked him, but
the jailer was commanded to take him away. Yet within a short time, the
court gave order to release him. Then going to Newcastle, he returned
to his wife and children at Mount-joy, where we will leave him for some
time, and in the meanwhile return again to G. Fox, whom we left at
Cynder-hill-green[7], from hence he travelled up and down in Yorkshire,
as far as Holderness, visiting his friends, and finding the churches
in a flourishing state. To relate all his occurrences there, would be
beyond my pale.
[7] _Possibly Sinderhill-green.--Transcriber._
Passing then through the countries, he went to Lincolnshire, and to
the meeting where he was, came the sheriff of Lincoln, who made great
contention for a time; but at length the power of the Lord so reached
him, that he was convinced of the Truth, as were several others also
that did oppose him.
Whilst G. Fox was in this country, the church of his friends increased,
and many received the doctrine preached by him, and amongst these, was
one sir Richard Wrey, with his brother, and the brother’s wife, who
both continued steadfast till they died; but sir Richard found this way
so narrow, that he afterwards ran out; for persecution in that time
fell so fast on those called Quakers, that none could abide in their
society, but such as were willing to hazard all.
G. Fox now went to Derbyshire, and the abovesaid sheriff of Lincoln
travelling with him, they came into Nottinghamshire, and so into the
Peak country, where having a meeting at Thomas Hammersley’s, several
ranters came and opposed him; and when he reproved them for swearing,
they said Abraham, Jacob, and Joseph swore. But though G. Fox did not
deny this, yet he said, ‘Christ, (who said before Abraham was, I am,)
saith, Swear not at all. And Christ ends the prophets, as also the old
priesthood, and the dispensation of Moses; and he reigns over the
house of Jacob, and of Joseph, and saith, Swear not at all. And God
when he bringeth in the first-begotten into the world, saith, Let all
the angels of God worship him, to wit, Christ Jesus, who saith, Swear
not at all. And as for the plea that men make for swearing to end their
strife, Christ, who says, Swear not at all, destroys the devil and his
works, who is the author of strife; for that is one of his works. And
God said, This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased, hear ye
him. So the Son is to be heard, who forbids swearing: and the apostle
James, who did hear the Son of God, and followed him, and preached him,
forbids also all oaths.’ Thus G. Fox prevailed, and many were convinced
that day. It is remarkable that Thomas Hammersley, being summoned
upon a jury, was admitted to serve without an oath; and when he being
foreman brought in the verdict, the judge did declare, that he had been
a judge so many years, but never heard a more upright verdict than that
the Quaker had then brought in.
G. Fox travelling on, came to Swanington, in Leicestershire, where
there was a general meeting, to which many of his friends came from
several parts, and among these, J. Audland, and F. Howgill, from
Bristol; and E. Burrough, from London. After this, G. Fox came to
Twycross, and some ranters there sang and danced before him; but he
reproved them so earnestly, that some of them were reached, and became
modest and sober.
Then he went to Drayton, his birth-place, to visit his relations; where
Nathaniel Stevens, the priest, having gotten another priest, sent for
him. G. Fox, having been three years abroad, knew nothing of their
design, but yet at last he went to the steeple-house yard, where the
two priests had gathered abundance of people; and they would have had
him gone into the steeple-house: but he asked them what he should do
there; and it was answered him, Mr. Stevens could not bear the cold.
At which G. Fox said, ‘He may bear it as well as I.’ At last they went
into a great hall, R. Farnsworth being with him, where they entered
into a dispute with the priests concerning their practice, how contrary
it was to Christ and his apostles. The priests asked where tithes were
forbidden, or ended; whereupon G. Fox showed them out of the epistle to
the Hebrews, chap. vii. that not only tithes, but the priesthood that
took tithes, was ended; and that the law was ended and disannulled, by
which the priesthood was made, and tithes were commanded to be paid.
Moreover, he, knowing Steven’s condition, laid open his manner of
preaching, showing, that he, like the rest of the priests, did apply
the promises to the first birth, which must die; whereas the promises
were to the seed, not to many seeds, but to the one seed, Christ, who
was one in male and female: for all were to be born again, before
they could enter into the kingdom of God. Then Stevens said, that he
must not judge so. But G. Fox told him, he that was spiritual judged
all things. Stevens confessed, that this was a full scripture: but
‘Neighbours,’ said he, ‘this is the business; G. Fox is come to the
light of the sun, and now he thinks to put out my star-light.’ To this
G. Fox returned, that he would not quench the least measure of God in
any, much less put out his star-light, if it were true star-light,
light from the morning star: but that if he had any thing from Christ,
or God, he ought to speak it freely, and not take tithes from the
people for preaching; seeing Christ commanded his ministers to give
freely, as they had received freely. But Stevens said, he would not
yield to that.