Windsor, the 22d of the 11th month,
1660.
It is remarkable, that this Chilton in the conclusion of his letter
saith, that his bonds were greater than those of his friends, who
neither feared a premunire, nor loss of their liberty, when they must
pay so dear for it, as the taking of an oath. For when any one truly
abides in the fear of God, he dares not, against the convictions of his
conscience, transgress the Divine commandments, and seek evasions to
avoid the stress thereof: for certainly God will not be mocked. Could
our Saviour have spoken in more plain and express terms than he did,
when he said, “Swear not at all?” And yet what cunning devices have
been invented by those who boast of the name of Christians, to enervate
the force of these express words. It is not a proper place here to
refute their reasons; but yet I cannot think it unsuitable to show
briefly how dangerous it is to act against the express commandments of
sacred writ, and against the conviction of one’s conscience, thereby
to avoid persecution: for not only the apostle James saith, “Whosoever
shall offend in one point, he is guilty of all;” but our supreme
lawgiver Christ himself saith, “Whosoever shall deny me before men, him
will I also deny before my Father which is in heaven. And whosoever
shall be ashamed of me, and of my words, of him also shall the Son
of Man be ashamed, when he cometh in the glory of his Father, with
the holy angels.” And to encourage us to faithfulness he hath also
said, “Fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the
soul; but rather fear him which is able to destroy both soul and body
in hell.” Which words indeed are so emphatical, that it ought not to
displease any that I repeat them, as they have been left on record by
the evangelist Luke, viz. thus, “I say unto you, my friends, be not
afraid of them that kill the body, and after that have no more that
they can do. But I will forewarn you whom ye shall fear: fear him,
which after he hath killed, hath power to cast into hell: yea, I say
unto you, fear him.” Can it be otherwise, but that such words must
needs make a powerful impression on a real Christian? And the more
when we consider, that nothing in the world can retrieve or restore a
perishing soul, as may appear from these of our blessed Lord, “What
is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own
soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?” A clear proof
that the whole world, and all that is contained therein, is not able
to save one soul, or to afford any thing that can redeem it. If I here
thought it requisite, a godly zeal at present would make me say more on
this subject; but not to expatiate too far beyond the limits of this
historical tract, I shall not pursue this digression any further, but
return to my relation from whence I thus stepped aside.
To take up again then the broken thread of my discourse, I once more
come to Jeremy Ives, who, to avoid persecution, had taken the oath
contrary to his understanding; and it was Thomas Rudyard, mentioned
here before, who objected this to him; and he feeling himself pinched
by it, endeavoured to break the stress thereof by saying, that the
reason why in a letter he had blamed a friend, was for his saying
he had rather have given fifty pounds than have took the oath of
allegiance, and yet swore he took it freely and willingly. But who sees
not what a poor shift this was?
Now to come to the dispute; I already mentioned it was asserted, that
the Quakers were no Christians; and to maintain this, Thomas Hicks
said, ‘They that deny the Lord’s Christ, are no Christians: but the
Quakers deny the Lord’s Christ,’ &c. To which W. Penn said, ‘I deny
the minor, viz. that the Quakers deny the Lord’s Christ.’ And T. Hicks
returned, ‘They that deny Christ to be a distinct person without them,
deny the Lord’s Christ; but the Quakers deny Christ to be a distinct
person without them: therefore,’ &c. W. Penn then desired that T.
Hicks would explain what he meant by the term person. And T. Hicks
answered, ‘I mean the man Christ Jesus.’ To which W. Penn replied,
‘Then I deny the minor, viz. that we deny the man Christ Jesus.’ To
which Hicks returned, ‘I prove ye deny the man Christ Jesus. One of
your own writers saith, that Christ was never seen with carnal eyes,
nor heard with carnal ears,’ &c. To this J. Ives added, ‘He that
denies that Christ was ever seen with carnal eyes, &c. denies the man
Christ: but the Quakers deny that Christ was ever seen with carnal
eyes,’ &c. George Keith then said, ‘I answer by distinguishing: Christ
as God was never seen with carnal eyes; but as man he was seen with
carnal eyes.’ To this J. Ives returned: ‘But he was Christ as he was
man: how then was not Christ seen with carnal eyes?’ To this question
G. Keith answered thus: ‘We are to consider that the terms or names
Jesus Christ, are sometimes applied to him as God, and sometimes to
him as man; yea, sometimes to the very body of Jesus: but the question
is, whether do those names more properly, immediately, and originally
belong to him as God, or as he was before he took the manhood upon
him; or to the manhood? We affirm, those names are given to him most
properly and eminently as God; and less properly, yet truly, as man;
and least properly to his body, yea to his dead body.’ Then J. Ives
asked, ‘Where do you read that the carcase was called the Christ?’ This
irreverent expression so displeased many, that some cried out, ‘Where
didst thou ever read that Christ’s dead body was called a carcase?’
From this disgust W. Penn said, ‘I beseech you for the Lord’s sake,
that we may treat of these things as becomes Christians.’
G. Keith then resuming the discourse, answered J. Ives’s question thus:
‘I prove that the dead body of Jesus was called Christ, from the words
of Mary, “Where have ye laid him?” For she had just before called the
body her Lord: likewise the angel said to her, “See the place where
the Lord lay:” and that he was Jesus Christ before he took flesh,
I prove from the saying of the apostle, “Who created all things by
Jesus Christ.”’ Then T. Hicks said, ‘I will prove the Quakers to be no
Christians:’ and J. Ives added, ‘They that say that Christ cannot be
seen with carnal eyes, and was never visible to wicked men, do deny the
Lord’s Christ; for he was seen with carnal eyes, and by wicked men.’ To
this W. Penn said, ‘I distinguish upon the word seen; wicked men might
see him in that bodily appearance, and yet not see him to be the Christ
of God; they saw his manhood, but not his Christship: this I will prove
from Christ’s words to Peter, when he confessed him to be Christ, the
Son of the living God, viz. “Flesh and blood hath not revealed this
unto thee, but my Father which is in heaven:” therefore Peter with a
carnal eye could not have seen the Lord’s Christ, much less wicked
men. My second proof is from the apostle’s words, “Whom none of the
princes of this world knew; for had they known him, they would not have
crucified him.”’ W. Penn enlarging a little more on this subject, said
also, that seeing and knowing in Scriptures are sometimes equivalent.
And G. Keith added, ‘Christ said, “He that hath seen me, hath seen the
Father:” but no wicked man hath seen the Father, therefore no wicked
man hath seen Christ, as such.’ Ives and his companions scoffed at
this distinction: but the Quakers averred, that all who saw Jesus
as the carpenter’s son, did not see him as the Christ of God. Then
Ives asked, ‘Is the manhood a part of the Lord’s Christ?’ To which W.
Penn returned, ‘Is this to prove the charge of our denying the Lord’s
Christ? It seems we must be here to be catechised, and ye will not
answer us one question, yet I shall answer J. Ives his question, if he
will promise to answer mine.’
Ives then saying that he would answer it, W. Penn returned, ‘I here
declare, that we do faithfully believe that holy manhood to be a member
of the Christ of God:’ and directing his question to Ives, he said,
‘Was he the Christ of God before he was manifest in the flesh?’ ‘He
was,’ answered Ives, ‘the Son of God.’ ‘But,’ replied W. Penn, ‘Was
he the Lord’s Christ? I will prove him to have been the Lord’s Christ
as well before as after: first from the apostle Paul’s words to the
Corinthians, “That rock was Christ:” next from Jude, where some Greek
copies have it thus, “That Jesus brought the people of Israel out of
Egypt.”’ But to this Ives gave no answer, how often soever he was
called upon for it. And this was no great wonder, since it was well
known that there were such among the Baptists who favoured the Socinian
principles. But Ives, that he might not appear altogether mute, came
on again with a question, viz. ‘Do ye believe that Christ in his human
nature is in heaven?’ This made G. Whitehead say to the auditory,
‘Ye have heard the charge against us, and the distinction that hath
been made between seeing, and seeing of Christ, as namely between the
spiritual saving sight of the Lord’s Christ, and the seeing of his
outward man, person, or body. In this last sense it could never be
intended that it was not visible to the outward eye; but it was the
spiritual rock which all Israel drank of, and as he was before Abraham
was, and as glorified with the Father before the world began; and as
Christ himself said to Philip, “He that seeth me, seeth my Father
also:” and only saints, or children of light, could truly say, “We have
seen his glory as the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and
truth.” In all which considerations, or senses of seeing, the Lord’s
Christ was only seen spiritually, and not with carnal eyes.’ This
Ives granted, that so it might be left: yet presently after, instead
of proving the Quakers no Christians, he asked again, ‘Do ye believe
or own that Christ is in heaven with his human nature?’ To which W.
Penn answered, ‘We do believe the man Christ Jesus to be glorified in
heaven.’ Which answer Ives refusing to accept, because it was not in
the terms of his question, Penn asked, ‘What difference dost thou make
between the manhood and human nature of Christ?’ ‘None,’ returned Ives,
‘if you mean candidly.’ To which Penn replied, ‘I do mean and speak
candidly; we do believe that holy manhood to be in heavenly glory.’
Now since it began to grow dark, the Baptists desired to leave off,
and to resume the matter at another time; as was done also: but the
parties did not agree for all that; for though the Baptists continued
to assert that the Quakers were no Christians, yet these had abundance
of reasons to maintain the contrary; and this they did so effectually,
that those of the other party, under a pretence of the meeting-place
being overcharged with people, and that the gallery gave way, broke up
the meeting, without a final conclusion.
Prosecution in this year was not very sharp at London, but for all
that, active in other places, so that I do not want matter to make a
relation of it; but to shun prolixity, I will mention but one case.
One Robert Tilles, in Buckingham, sick of a consumption, and believing
his death to be nigh at hand, desired some of his friends to visit him.
At this invitation some came to his house, yet not above the number
of fourteen persons; and two informers went and acquainted a justice
of the peace thereof, who recorded this small assembly as a seditious
meeting, and fined the sick man twenty pounds for this pretended
transgression; and so his goods were seized, and six cows taken from
him. And one Robert Smith, being overheard by the informers to have
spoken five or six words, was fined also twenty pounds as a preacher;
which fine was afterwards extorted from some others then present.
The peace between England and Holland was concluded this year, at the
instance of Spain, but the war between Holland and France continued
still.
1675.
I now pass over to the year 1675. About the beginning whereof G. Fox
came to London, whilst the parliament was sitting, who advised the
king to the suppressing of the growth of popery; but in the meanwhile
the Quakers bore the chiefest shock; for their religious meetings were
styled seditious conventicles.
After G. Fox had been at the yearly-meeting of his friends at
London, he left the city, and went to Lancaster, and from thence to
Swarthmore, where having a dwelling-place of his own, he staid about
two years to rest himself: having contracted distempers by hardships
and imprisonments, which had much weakened his body. Being there,
he understood that four young students at Aberdeen were convinced
at a dispute held by Robert Barclay and George Keith, with some of
the scholars of that university. And being visited by some of the
neighbourhood, among others came also to him colonel Kirby, his old
persecutor, who now carried himself very lovingly, and bid him welcome
into the country. Yet notwithstanding this appearance of kindness,
sometime afterwards he ordered the constables of Ulverstone to tell G.
Fox, that they must have no more meetings at Swarthmore, for if they
had, they were commanded by him to break them up; and they were to come
the next Sunday after. But this threatening did not make G. F. afraid;
for he, with his friends, had a meeting on that First day of the week,
and none came to disturb them. During his abode at home, when he did
not travel to and fro in the country, as he used to do, to edify his
friends by his ministry, he supplied this with his pen, and exhorted
them by writing, where he could not do it by word of mouth: besides he
wrote other serviceable treatises, for he was a diligent man.
In the meanwhile persecution for the worship of God did not cease
altogether: the act against seditious conventicles gave opportunity
to the malicious to disturb the religious meetings of the Quakers,
who never met in a clandestine manner, but always publicly: and on
this account fines were extorted from them; to which may be added,
that oftentimes they were still very ill treated, and most grievously
abused, as among the rest at Long Clawston in Leicestershire, where
some women were dragged by the neck along the street; and among these a
widow, the skin of whose neck was rubbed off by this rudeness; and an
ancient woman, above seventy, was violently cast down to the ground.
Some of the men were dragged by the hair, and others by their legs,
besides the many blows given them: and some were trodden upon till
the blood gushed out of their mouth and nose. Yet all this they bore
patiently, without making any resistance; whereby it happened sometimes
that some who had not the gift of preaching, reached others by their
patient suffering; showing by their meek behaviour, that their works
did agree with their Christian profession: and though many were robbed
of all they had, even clothes and beds not excepted, yet they continued
steadfast without fainting; though often it was called a meeting when
some were come together, not properly to perform religious worship, as
hath been related already.
At Kirby Muckloe, where some were come to the house of John Penford, to
provide for their poor, the priest of the parish, called John Dixon,
informed against them by letter to Wenlock Stanly of Branston, who
sent three of his servants to take inspection of the said meeting;
and though these looking into the book, in which the charitable
distributions were entered, found that this meeting had been only to
consider of the necessities of the poor, yet several were fined, and
Penford himself twenty pounds for his house, and ten pounds for the
preacher, when there was never any one there; but they having heard him
speak, this was counted sufficient to make him pass for a preacher.
Now though he and Richard Woodland appealed for justice, yet the court
positively denied their appeal, unless they would first take the oath
of allegiance. This was the old snare, so that the hearing of the
matter was denied, and treble damage given against them.
At Lewes in Sussex, the priest, William Snat, became himself an
informer, and went several times to the Quakers’ meeting there; and
from thence to the justice Henry Shully, to whom he declared on oath,
in whose house the meeting had been, and who had preached; and this
was so gross, that once he gave a false information with respect to the
house; but the gain proceeding from this work, how abominable soever,
did shine so alluringly, that his kinsman, James Clark, entered upon
this informer’s office: which any one could easily do, without making
suit for it.
In Norfolk, the rage of the persecutors was such, that some having been
bereaved of all, were obliged, even in winter time, (as amongst the
rest, Joseph Harrison, with his wife and children,) to lie on straw;
and yet they, unwearied, did not leave frequenting their religious
meeting; nay, even the dead were not suffered to rest, for outrageous
barbarity came to that pitch, that Mary, the wife of Francis Larder,
being dead and buried, was, by order of one Thomas Bretland, dug up
again, whereby the coffin was broken, which they tied together, and
carrying it away, exposed the corpse in the market-place. Thus this
deceased woman was no more suffered to lie quiet in her grave, than in
her sick bed, where the day before her death, she had been threatened
by order of one Christopher Bedinfield, to have her bed taken from
under her while living. Now the reason of thus taking up the corpse
was, that though her husband was one of those called Quakers, yet she
not being properly a member of that society, it was taken ill that
she had been buried in a plain way, without paying to the priest his
pretended due, for the ordinary service over the dead.
In Somersetshire thirty-two persons were fined for having been at
a burial. The like happened in the county of Derby, where Samuel
Roe, (his wife being deceased,) was fined twenty pounds, because his
friends met in his house to conduct the corpse to the grave. Of this
the priest, John Wilson, was informer to the justice of peace, John
Loe; and out of the house of the said Samuel Roe, was taken the value
of thirty pounds; so that the share of the informer was no less than
ten pounds; since according to law, his due was a third of the spoil.
I could here relate several instances of great adversities, and sad
mischiefs that befel cruel persecutors; but not to expatiate too far, I
have silently passed by many remarkable cases.
Yet, in general terms I may say, that many of the persecutors, both
justices, informers, and others, came to a miserable end: some being
by sudden, or unnatural death, and others by lingering sicknesses, or
distempers, or by foul and stinking diseases, taken out of this life;
whilst some, who by spoil had scraped much together, fell to great
poverty and beggary; whose names I could set down, and mention also
time and place; and among these some rapacious ecclesiastics, who came
to a sad end; but I studiously omit particularizing such instances,
to avoid the appearance of grudging and envy. Some of those that had
been so active in spoil, signified themselves the terrible remorse of
conscience they felt, because of their having persecuted the Quakers;
insomuch, that they roared out their gnawing grief, mixed with despair,
under the grievous pains they suffered in their body. And it was judged
by many a very remarkable case, that one Christopher Glin, priest at
Burford, who had acted with a very indiscreet zeal against the Quakers,
having about the year 1663, read his text in the pulpit, and then
intending to read his sermon, was on a sudden struck with blindness,
and continued blind till he died. But none of the persecutors seemed
to take notice, or to regard such instances; for they let their rage
loose against the Quakers; who, for all that continued in patience,
though they did not think it unlawful to give notice of the grievous
oppression their friends suffered, to those that were in authority;
lest they might have excused themselves as ignorant of these violent
proceedings. Therefore it was not omitted to publish in public print,
many of those crying instances that have been related here, and to
present them to the king and parliament, with humble addresses to that
purpose. But all this found but small entrance. King Charles it seems
was not to be the man that should take off this yoke of oppression;
this work was reserved for others. His brother James that succeeded
him, made a beginning thereof, with what intention Heaven knows; and
William III. that excellent prince, brought it to perfection as far as
it was in his power.
This year deceased at sea William Bayly, coming from the West Indies,
in the ship called the Samuel, of London, in the latitude of 46 degrees
and 36 minutes: he had been a teacher among the Baptists, and had read
much in the books of Jacob Behmen, but could not find thereby true
satisfaction to his soul. And being afterwards entered into society
with the Quakers, so called, he became a zealous preacher among
them. When in this his last voyage he was grown sick, and felt death
approaching, he bid John Clark, master of the said vessel, remember him
to his dear wife and little ones, and also to G. Fox, G. Whitehead and
others; and being filled with joy, began to sing, saying, ‘The creating
word of the Lord endures for ever.’ He took several that were about
him by the hand, and exhorted them to fear the Lord, and not to fear
death: ‘Death,’ said he, ‘is nothing in itself; for the sting of death
is sin. Tell the Friends at London, that would have been glad to have
seen my face, I go to my Father and their Father, to my God and their
God. Remember my love to my dear wife; she will be a sorrowful widow:
but let her not mourn too much, for it is well with me.’ And having
spoken something concerning his outward business to the master, he said
in regard to his wife and children, ‘I have left them no portions, but
my endeavour hath been to make God their father. Shall I lay down my
head upon the waters? Well, God is the God of the whole universe; and
though my body sink, I shall swim atop of the waters.’ Then taking his
leave of the company, he said, ‘I see not one of you, but I wish you
all well.’ And one asking, how it was with him? he answered, ‘I am
perfectly well.’ After having spoken many more sensible words, about
four in the morning he departed quietly, as if he had fallen asleep.
His wife Mary, the same that had formerly been at Adrianople, and
spoken with the emperor of the Turks, gave an excellent testimony in
writing concerning him; and J. Crook, in a preface to W. Bayly’s works,
said of him, (the truth of which I know by my own experience,) ‘As he
was bold and zealous in his preaching, being willing to improve his
time, as if he had known it was not to be long amongst us; so was he as
valiant in suffering for his testimony, when called thereunto. Methinks
I see how once I saw him stand at the bar to plead his innocent cause,
like holy Stephen, in the senate-house, when the threats of his
persecutors resembled the showers of stones, falling upon that blessed
martyr, crying out with a hideous noise, ‘take him away, jailer,’
&c. and yet all this while he changed not his countenance, except by
the additional ornaments of some innocent smiles. Sometimes by cruel
persecutors he hath been thrown down, and dragged upon the ground by
the hair of his head, and his mouth and jaws endeavoured to be rent
and broke asunder, so that the ground whereon he lay was smeared with
his blood: yet, as if this butchering had not been enough to make
him a fit sacrifice for the shambles of their cruelty, a heavy gross
bodied persecutor stamped upon his breast with his feet, endeavouring
to beat the breath out of his body: and when this persecutor had done
his pleasure, he commanded the jailer to take him away, and put him in
some nasty hole for his entertainment and cure. And had not the God of
Israel been his physician there, he had been taken from us long before
this.’ Thus far John Crook.
1676.
At the beginning of this year, 1676, died at London, Matthew Hide,
who had made it his business, during the space of about twenty years,
publicly to contradict the Quakers in their meetings, and to disturb
them in their worship of God, thinking from a blind zeal, that he did
God an acceptable piece of service, by zealously opposing what he
judged to be heresy. Now how much soever this man was bent against
them, yet he showed this moderation, that in his gainsaying he did not
behave himself furiously, but appeared to be well meaning, although
he erred exceedingly, and often hindered the preaching of ministers
among the Quakers; which induced W. Penn sometimes to pray to God very
earnestly for him, and to tell him in the presence of many auditors,
that God would plead with him by his righteous judgments; and that the
time would come he should be forced to confess to the sufficiency of
that light he then opposed, and to acknowledge that God was with those
called Quakers.
This same Hide being by sickness brought to the brink of death, desired
that G. Whitehead, and some of his friends, might be sent for: and to
one Cotton Oade, who asked him, if he had any thing to say to clear
himself, concerning his having so often opposed the friends called
Quakers, in their declarations and prayers, he said, that he was sorry
for what he had done: for, added he, they are the people of God. G.
Whitehead, then, though it was late in the evening, being come to
him, with some others, said, ‘I am come in love and tenderness to see
thee.’ To which Hide returned, ‘I am glad to see you.’ And Whitehead
again, ‘If thou hast any thing on thy conscience to speak, I would have
thee to clear thy conscience.’ To this Hide replied, ‘What I have to
say, I speak in the presence of God: as Paul was a persecutor of the
people of the Lord, so have I been a persecutor of you, his people,
as the world is who persecute the children of God.’ More he spoke,
but being very weak, his words could not well be understood. Then G.
Whitehead resumed, ‘Thy understanding being darkened when darkness was
over thee, thou hast gainsaid the truth and people of the Lord; and I
knew that that light which thou opposedst, would rise up in judgment
against thee. I have often with others, laboured with thee to bring
thee to a right understanding.’ To which Hide said, ‘This I declare in
the presence of God, and of you here, I have done evil in persecuting
you who are the children of God, and I am sorry for it: the Lord Jesus
Christ show mercy unto me, and the Lord increase your number, and be
with you.’ After some pause G. Whitehead said to him, ‘I would have
thee, if thou art able to speak, to ease thy conscience as fully as
thou canst. My soul is affected to hear thee thus confess thy evil, as
the Lord hath given thee a sense of it. In repentance there is mercy
and forgiveness; in confessing and forsaking sin, there is mercy to
be found with the Lord, who in the midst of judgment remembers mercy,
that he may be feared.’ Hide being in great anguish, and striving for
breath, said, a little after, ‘I have done evil in opposing you in your
prayers; the Lord be merciful unto me; and as I have been an instrument
to turn many from God, the Lord raise up many instruments to turn many
to him.’ G. Whitehead resumed, ‘I desire thou mayest find mercy and
forgiveness at the hand of the Lord. How is it with thy soul? Dost not
thou find some ease?’ ‘I hope I do,’ answered Hide, ‘and if the Lord
should lengthen my days, I should be willing to hear a testimony for
you, as publicly as I have appeared against you.’ His wife then said,
‘It is enough; what can be desired more?’ ‘If,’ queried Whitehead,
‘the Lord should not lengthen out thy days, dost thou desire what
thou sayest should be signified to others?’ ‘Yes,’ answered Hide, ‘I
do, you may; I have said as much as I can say.’ After some silence,
he being much straitened for breath, Whitehead said, ‘If this company
be wearisome unto thee, we may withdraw.’ To which he returned, ‘you
may use your freedom.’ G. Whitehead then taking leave of him, said,
‘I shall leave thee to the Lord, desiring he may show mercy and
forgiveness unto thee, as I hope he will.’ Upon which Hide replied,
‘The Lord be with your spirits.’
All this was spoken to G. Whitehead and his friends, in the presence
of Hide’s wife, and some others of his acquaintance, about two hours
before his death: and thus he gave manifest proofs of a sincere
repentance; for Elizabeth his wife, having perceived him to be much
troubled in his mind, had asked him, if he would speak with some of
the Quakers? and he smiting his hand on his breast, said, ‘With all
my soul.’ After G. Whitehead and his friends were gone, it being the
seventh day of the week, he desired several times that he might live
till morning, and might hear on that day, viz. the first day of the
week, a testimony for the truth, he had on that day so often opposed;
yet he signified that he had found some ease to his spirit. He also
exhorted his wife, who conversed much with people that were great in
the world, to use the plain language of the Quakers. And after some
more words to this purpose, spoken by him, with good understanding, he
stretched himself out, and died very quietly. An evident token of God’s
unspeakable mercy, who wills not the death of a sinner, but that he
should repent and live; and who entirely knowing the real disposition
of man’s heart, forgives sin by mere grace, without any merit in man,
but for his own sake, as he hath said himself, “I am he that blotteth
out thy transgressions for mine own sake, and will not remember thy
sins.” The truth of which saying very plainly appeared in the converted
thief on the cross, though his impenitent fellow-sufferer hardened his
heart against it.
In this year, while G. Fox was at Swarthmore, died William Lampitt, the
priest of Ulverstone, who formerly had been a great friend to Margaret,
now the wife of G. Fox, but grew so envious against the friends she was
in society with, that he said in the year 1652, he would wage his life
upon it, that the Quakers would all vanish and come to nought within
half a year. But on his death-bed he said to one of his hearers, who
came to visit him, ‘I have been a preacher a long time, and thought I
had lived well; but I did not think it had been so hard a thing to die.’
At Norwich now great spoil was made upon the Quakers, for their
religious assemblies. Erasmus Cooper coming once into the house of
Anthony Alexander, said to his wife, who was big with child, he came to
seize all she had. ‘All,’ said she, ‘and that for seven pounds fine,
that is hard.’ But he slighting what she said, replied, he would not
leave her a bed to lie on. And then began to break the doors with a
pick-axe; he and his companions behaving themselves so desperately,
that it drew tears from some of the neighbours who beheld it; and the
warranted spoilers forced Alexander’s man to help them; which made
Alexander say, that it was a most unreasonable thing, to require a
servant to assist in the taking his master’s goods: for which the
warden, Robert Clerk, snarled at him, saying, ‘They are our goods.’
To the house of Samuel Duncon, the aforesaid officers came also, and
with them the informer, Charles Tennison, and the hangman. Here they
staid several days and nights, and kept Samuel’s wife, who was big with
child, as a prisoner in her own house, not suffering her to speak with
any, so much as at the door, nor any to come to her. And after they
had broken open all the locked doors, they took away to the value of
about forty-three pounds in goods; and so insolent the informers were,
that one did not stick to say, ‘I will make the mayor wait upon me as
often as I will, at my pleasure.’ Nay, this wicked crew was become
so powerful, that none durst oppose them, for fear of falling into
disgrace with the court: since they were encouraged by such as were in
high stations, and probably at the instance of the Papists, or popishly
affected. The constable, William Poole, coming this summer into a
meeting at Norwich, with an informer, who made him come, and hearing
efficacious preaching there, cried with tears in his eyes, ‘What shall
I do! I know the power of God is among you:’ and told the informer,
that if there were a curse hung over any people upon the earth, it was
over the informers. And Tennison the informer, who had assisted in
taking away Samuel Duncon’s goods, being afterwards committed to prison
for debt, confessed he never prospered since he took in hand that work;
and said if he were at liberty, he would never meddle with it more.
In Nottinghamshire also great spoil and havoc was made, to which the
justice Robert Thoroton, was greatly instrumental; for at Sutton he
gave forth a warrant to seize the goods of two persons, one of which
was a woman, who having in a meeting spoken five or six words, which,
according to the testimony of some officers that were present, were
not at all like preaching, was however informed against as a preacher,
and so by the said Thoroton fined twenty pounds; and she being unable
to pay, the one half of the fine was charged upon her, and the other
half upon John Fulwood. At another time Thoroton gave order to seize
the goods of William Day, a miller, because he having been at a meeting
at Sutton, in the street, the fine of a pretended preacher, that was
unable, was charged upon him; though Day proved, and the officers who
kept the friends out of their meeting place, declared also, that those
words, which were called preaching, were no more than an answer to
what another had spoken. But for all that, Thoroton, to protect, and
to gratify the informer, said, ‘Though but one word were spoken, it is
sufficient.’ A poor woman at South Collingham, who was already bereaved
of almost all that she possessed, and since by her friends provided
with a bed and other necessaries, was also deprived of this little,
because she continued to frequent meetings. Matthew Hartly, a poor
man, who lived by spinning of wool, was likewise, for frequenting the
meeting there, bereaved of what he had; and so it was with many others,
whose names and surnames I could mention, if I had a mind to enlarge.
And if their friends had not taken care of them, and other impoverished
families, who had lost all by spoil, many might have perished.
In the town of Hereford the meetings were also disturbed from time to
time, chiefly by boys, who threw among those that were met, not only
stones, and excrements, but burning squibs; and used all manner of
insolency and mischief they could think of, against these harmless
people, either by breaking the glass windows, or the forms and
seats. One of the leaders of this turbulent company, was the son of
one Abraham Seward, who about this time was elected mayor; but when
complaints were made to him of the outrageous actions of the said
wicked crew, he pretended to be ignorant of his son’s doings, and for
all that threatened those that came to him, with the execution of the
law upon them, if they did not leave off to keep meetings. And as it
was well known that the chief master of the town-school was displeased
at the extravagant insolency of some of his scholars, so it was
reported also, that he was forbidden to correct them for it; and that
the college priests had set them on, and said they would hear them
out in what they did; for some of those brutish boys were choristers.
Two friends went to the justices, Robert Simons and Thomas Simons, to
acquaint them with the excessive abuses they met with. But the justices
not at all regarding their complaint, the said Robert endeavoured to
draw some confession of a meeting from one of them, intending, as he
himself said, immediately to have fined him, if he had confessed; but
he was wary. Now since the insolency of the boys was thus encouraged by
authority, it was no wonder it continued there a whole year. At length
eight men were taken from the meeting, by the aforesaid mayor, Abraham
Seward, and carried to the town-hall; and in their passage along, he
said, they should never meet there more. To which a friend, going
with him, said, ‘We are a people gathered by the power of the Lord;
and therefore the power of man cannot scatter us.’ Being come to the
town-hall, the oaths of allegiance and supremacy were tendered to them,
on which they said, ‘We are Christians, therefore cannot break the
command of Christ, which forbids to swear at all; but to render just
and lawful allegiance to the king, we do not deny, nor refuse.’ And
they persisting in their refusal to swear, were committed to prison.
The next day after, one Walter Rogers, a prebend, walking by the
meeting-house, and observing how it was broken, said to some, that they
were very good boys, and had done their work better than he thought
they had.
At one of the quarter-sessions in Nottingham, one John Sayton appeared,
who, being fined twenty pounds for suffering a conventicle at his
house, in the parish of Blyth, came to appeal for justice. The witness
produced against him, said, ‘I was there on that day, and there were
several people met, but were all silent, and no words spoken amongst
them; but I did not see John Sayton there.’ And that the said John
Sayton was above sixty miles from home the same day, for which he was
fined twenty pounds, was made appear in open court by substantial
evidence. Then the counsel for the appellant said, in the first place,
forasmuch as there was neither preaching, praying, nor reading, as
their own witness doth testify, therefore it was no conventicle.
Secondly, being they cannot prove he was there, therefore how can it
be judged, that he did either wittingly or willingly consent to that
meeting, if they could make it a conventicle? To this the informer’s
counsel objected, that although there was neither preaching, praying,
nor reading, yet it was evident enough that they met under a pretence
of religious exercise; and seeing there were more than five, and not
of John Sayton’s family, therefore it must needs be a conventicle. And
as to the second, seeing they cannot prove he was there, we must leave
it to the consciences of the jury, whether he did willingly consent
to that meeting or no. After the counsel had spoken on both sides,
Peniston Whaley, one of the justices, who sat in the chair as judge
of the court, stood up, and said to the jury, ‘Although there was no
visible exercise that can be proved, yet the Quakers say, they worship
God in spirit and truth; and we know their manner is to sit sighing and
groaning,’ &c. The jury returning, and being asked by the court, ‘Do
you find it for the king, or for the appellant,’ answered, ‘For the
appellant.’ This so displeased the said justice Whaley, that he bid
them go forth again. But one of the jurymen saying, they were agreed,
and they had considered the thing very well, he thereupon fell into
such a rage, that he said, ‘You deserve all to be hanged; for you are
as ill as highwaymen.’ Perhaps he himself was either an informer, or a
special friend to such, and therefore was sorry that the jury deprived
him of the booty, or a share of it.
There was now great persecution in all parts of England, neither did
it go better in the principality of Wales. Nine persons being taken
prisoners, and brought this summer to the assizes held for the county
of Merioneth, in the town Bala, upon an indictment for not resorting
to their parish churches, the oaths of allegiance and supremacy were
tendered to them, Kemick Eyton, and Thomas Walcot being judges; and
upon their refusal of taking these oaths, the said judges declared it
as their opinion in open court, that in case the prisoners would refuse
the oaths the second time, they should be prosecuted as traitors, the
men to be hanged and quartered, and the women to be burnt. But this
threat could not make them afraid; for at the next assizes the oaths
being tendered them again, they continued in refusing, though they
solemnly acknowledged allegiance to the king as supreme magistrate; and
thereupon were remanded to close imprisonment, where Edward Rees, one
of them, being above sixty years of age, and not able to hear the cold,
died about the height of the frost, not having been allowed the use of
fire.
Sometime before, it happened within the corporation of Pool, in
Montgomeryshire, that the justice, David Maurice, coming into a house
where a small number of people were peaceably met, and all silent,
required them to depart. Hereupon Thomas Lloyd, one of the company,
began to speak a few words, by way of defining true religion, and what
true worship was; and what he said was so reasonable, that the said
justice approved of it as sound, and according to the doctrine of the
church of England; yet notwithstanding he fined the said Thomas Lloyd
in twenty pounds for preaching.
This year died in prison John Sage, being about eighty years of age,
after having been in prison at Ivelchester in Somersetshire, almost
ten years, for not paying of tithes. And it appeared that since the
restoration of king Charles, above two hundred of the people called
Quakers, died in prisons in England, where they had been confined
because of their religion. I could relate abundance of occurrences
this year, if I had a mind to extend my work, but I study brevity; yet
cannot omit to mention, that in this year, in the island of Barbadoes,
in the West Indies, a law was made to prevent negroes coming into the
meetings of the Quakers, which was of this tenor:
‘Whereas of late, many negroes have been suffered to remain at
the meetings of the Quakers, as hearers of their doctrine, and
taught in their principles, whereby the safety of the island
may be much hazarded: be it enacted, that if at any time after
publication hereof, any negro, or negroes, be found with the
people called Quakers, at any of their meetings, as hearers of
their preaching, he or they shall be forfeited, one half to such
as shall seize, or sue for him or them, if belonging to any
of the Quakers, and the other moiety to the public use of the
island; provided that if he or they be seized, such as seize,
shall bring their actions upon this statute, within three months,
against the owner of the negro, or negroes: wherein the defendant
having ten days summons, shall appear, plead, and come to trial
at the first court after summons, or judgment to be given by
nihil dicit, and execution immediately to issue. And if such
negro, or negroes, do not belong to any of the persons present
at the same meeting, any person or persons may bring an action
upon this statute, against any of the persons present at the said
meeting, at the election of the informer, and so recover ten
pounds for every negro, or negroes, present at the said meeting
as aforesaid, to be divided as aforesaid, and in such actions
proceedings to be as aforesaid. And no person whatsoever, shall
keep any school, to instruct any child in any learning, unless
within one month after the publication hereof, he first take the
oaths of allegiance and supremacy, before some justice of peace
of the parish where the party lives, and have a certificate
thereof, or have a special license from the governor, on pain
of three months imprisonment, and forfeiture of 300 lbs. of
Muscovado sugar, the one moiety to the informer, and the other
to the public use of the island, to be recovered as aforesaid.
And no person whatsoever, who is not an inhabitant and resident
of this island, and hath been so for twelve months together,
shall hereafter publicly discourse, or preach at the meeting of
the Quakers, on pain of six months imprisonment, and forfeiture
of 1000 lbs. Muscovado sugar, the one moiety to such as sue for
it, the other to the public use of the island, to be recovered
as aforesaid: provided that all actions upon this statute, be
brought within six months after the offence.
‘Read, and passed the council the 21st of April, 1676,
and consented to by his excellency [the governor] the
same day.
EDWARD STEED, _Deputy-secretary_.’
Although in the beginning of this statute, the instructing of the
negroes in the doctrine of the Quakers, is represented as a thing
whereby the safety of the island might be much hazarded, yet the sequel
shows that this was not the matter, but that it was endeavoured to
deprive the Quakers of their due liberty. What was the issue hereof I
am unacquainted with.
This year Robert Barclay wrote a letter to the heer Adrian Paets, with
whom he had some discourse when the said heer returned from Spain,
where he had been ambassador for the States of the United Provinces.
This Paets having a strange opinion of the doctrine of the Quakers,
had a good while ago wrote a letter[41] to Christian Hartzoeker, at
Rotterdam, about their doctrine; and having afterwards discoursed with
Barclay concerning the inward and immediate revelation of the Spirit
of God, this induced Barclay to write a letter on the said subject in
Latin, to the aforementioned heer, wherein he made a more large reply
to his arguments, than he had done by word of mouth. This letter being
sent over from Scotland to Holland, was delivered by Benjamin Furly
at Rotterdam, to the said heer Paets, with a desire that he might be
pleased to return an answer to it, which he promised he would. But he
continuing deficient in the case, Furly at last published the said
letter in print, but without mentioning the name of him to whom it was
written, only his character, viz. _Cuidam legato_.[42]
[41] To be found in the book called _Præstantium ac eruditorum
virorum Epistolæ Ecclesiastique & Theologicæ_. Amstelodami _apud_
Franciscum Halman. 1704.
[42] To a certain ambassador.
In this letter was set down first the objection of the heer Paets,
to wit, that since the being and substance of the Christian religion
consisted in the knowledge of, and faith concerning, the birth, life,
death, resurrection, and ascension of Christ Jesus, he considered
the substance of the Christian religion as contingent truth; which
contingent truth was matter of fact. And matter of fact could not be
known but by the relation of another, or by the perception of the
outward senses; because there are naturally in our souls no ideas of
contingent truths, such as are concerning necessary truths, viz. that
God is, and that the whole is greater than the part. And since it might
without absurdity be said, that God cannot make a contingent truth to
become a necessary truth; neither can God reveal contingent truths or
matters of fact, but as contingent truths are revealed; and matters of
fact not being revealed but by the outward senses, the conclusion drawn
from thence is, that men are not obliged to believe God producing any
revelation in the soul concerning matter of fact, whether of a thing
done, or to be done, unless there be added some miracles obvious to
the outward senses, by which the soul may be ascertained that that
revelation cometh from God. All these arguments Barclay answered very
circumstantially, premising first, that it was falsely supposed that
the essence of the Christian religion consisted in the historical
faith and knowledge of the birth, life, death, resurrection and
ascension of Christ. That faith and historical knowledge is indeed a
part of the Christian religion, but not such an essential part as that
without which the Christian religion cannot consist; but an integral
part, which goes to the completing of the Christian religion, as the
hands or feet of a man are the integral parts of a man, without which
nevertheless a man may exist, but not an entire and complete man.
Yet he agrees, that the historical knowledge of Christ is commonly
manifested to us by the holy Scriptures as the means; but nevertheless
he asserts, that God could without such an outward mean manifest the
said historical knowledge to our minds: and also, that a contingent
truth may be known by a supernatural knowledge. And he saith, that when
God doth make known unto men any matter of fact by divine immediate
revelation, he then speaks as to the ear of the heart of the inward
man. And, that as when any natural idea is excited in us, we clearly
know it; so also when a supernatural idea is raised, we clearly know
that whereof it is the idea. He also holds forth, what properly is the
inward supernatural sense in man; and then he distinguisheth between
contingent and necessary truths, and shows how a divine revelation
may be known to be such, saying that natural and spiritual senses are
distinguishable by their objects, and demonstrating how godly men may
know they are in the favour of God, and how the wicked feel the wrath
of God as fire. He also relates after what manner the spiritual senses
distinguish the good and the evil; and he confesseth there is in all
men, as well the godly as the ungodly, some sort of idea of God, as
of a most perfect being: but he asserts, that the supernatural idea
of God differeth much from the natural; and that in all men there is
a supernatural idea of God. He also shows, wherein the motions of
the mind differ from those of the body; and that there are ideas as
well of supernatural, as of natural things. And showing from whence
the errors of false likenesses of reason proceed, he says, that the
natural reason cannot perceive supernatural things. He also asserts,
that the revelations to the prophets were by inward inspirations in
their minds; and that they were most certainly persuaded that they
were divinely inspired, even without any outward miracle; and that it
is by the inspiration of the same divine Spirit, by which the prophets
prophesied, that we do believe their words and writings to be divine,
concerning contingent truths, as well past as to come. Moreover he
inquires, whether faith comes by outward hearing, and he shows how the
outward senses may be deceived; nay, that often they are vitiated both
by outward casualties and natural infirmities, whereunto the godly are
no less subject than the wicked.
All this is treated at large by Barclay, as may be seen in the said
letter, and several years after, when the heer Paets was at London,
being one of the commissioners for the Dutch East India company,
Barclay spoke with him again, and so represented the matter, that he
readily yielded that he had been mistaken in his notion of the Quakers;
for he found they could make a reasonable plea for the foundation of
their religion. And thereupon R. Barclay translated the said letter
into English as follows:
‘_My Friend_,
‘Albeit I judge I did fully answer to all thy arguments in that
conference we had, concerning the necessity and possibility of
inward immediate revelation, and of the certainty of true faith
from thence proceeding; nevertheless, because after we had made
an end, and were parting, thou wouldest needs remit to my further
consideration the strength of thy argument, as that in which
thou supposedst the very hinge of the question to lie: that I
might satisfy thy desire, and that the truth might more appear,
I did further consider of it, but the more I weighed it, I found
it the weaker. And therefore that thou thyself mayest make the
truer judgment of it, I thought meet to send thee my further
considerations thereon; (which I had done ere now, had not I,
both at London and elsewhere, been diverted by other necessary
occasions,) wherein I doubt not, but thou wilt perceive a full
and distinct answer to thy argument. But if thou canst not as
yet yield to the truth, or thinkest mine answer in any part to
be defective, so that there yet remains with thee any matter
of doubt or scruple; I do earnestly desire thee, that as I for
thy sake, and out of love to the truth, have not been wanting to
examine thy argument, and to transmit to thee my considerations
thereon; so thou mayest give thyself the trouble to write and
send me what thou hast further to say: which my friend, N. N. who
delivers thee this will, at what time thou shalt appoint, receive
from thee, and transmit to me thy letter; that at last the truth
may appear where it is.
‘And that the whole matter may the more clearly be understood, it
will be fit in the first place, to propose thy argument, whereby
thou opposest the immediate revelation of God in the saints:
thence concluding thou hast fully overturned the foundation of
the people called Quakers. Which argument of thine is;
‘That since, (as thou judgest,) the being and substance of the
Christian religion consisteth in the knowledge of, and faith
concerning, the birth, life, death, resurrection, and ascension
of Christ Jesus, thou considerest the substance of the Christian
religion as a contingent truth; which contingent truth is matter
of fact. Whence thou reasonest, that:
Matter of fact cannot be known but by the relation of another,
or by perception of the outward senses; because there are
naturally in our souls no ideas of contingent truths, such as
are concerning necessary truths: to wit, that God is; and that
the whole is greater than the part.--And since it may without
absurdity be said, that
God cannot make a contingent truth to become a necessary truth;
neither can God reveal contingent truths or matters of fact,
but as contingent truths are revealed: but matters of fact
are not revealed but by the outward senses.--From whence thou
concludest, that
Men are not even obliged to believe God producing any revelation
in the soul concerning matter of fact, whether of a thing done,
or to be done, unless there be added some miracles obvious to
the outward senses, by which the soul may be ascertained, that
that revelation cometh from God.
‘All this thou endeavourest also to prove from the Scripture,
Rom. x. where the apostle saith, “Faith cometh by hearing:” and
because the apostle speaketh afterwards of those who were sent
in the plural number; thence thou concludest that to be spoken
of outward preaching by the ministry of men: and since the
apostle uses a question, saying, “How shall they believe unless
they hear,” thou gatherest from the induction and connexion
of the text, that the apostle treats only of outward hearing;
thence concluding, that without outward hearing, faith cannot
be produced: and therefore, that there can be no immediate
revelation by the simple operation of the Spirit in the mind,
unless there be somewhat proposed to the outward senses.
‘Before I proceed to a direct answer to this argument, some
things are necessary to be premised:
‘First then; That it is falsely supposed, that the essence of
the Christian religion consists in the historical faith and
knowledge of the birth, death, life, resurrection, and ascension
of Jesus Christ. That faith and historical knowledge is indeed a
part of the Christian religion; but not such an essential part,
as that without which the Christian religion cannot consist: but
an integral part, which goes to the completing of the Christian
religion; as the hands or feet of a man are integral parts of
a man, without which nevertheless a man may exist, but not an
entire and complete man.
‘Secondly, If by immediate revelation be understood such a
revelation of God, as begets in our souls an historical faith
and knowledge of the birth of Christ in the flesh, without
the means of the holy Scripture, we do not contend for such a
revelation, as commonly given, or to be expected by us, or any
other Christians. For albeit many other evangelical truths be
manifested to us by the immediate manifestation of God, not
using the Scripture as the means; yet the historical knowledge
of Christ is not commonly manifested to us, nor to any others,
but by the holy Scripture, as the means, and that by way of a
material object: even as when we see the person of Peter or Paul
to our visive faculty immediately, yet not without the medium
of that person concurring as a material object to produce that
sight; while the light of the sun concurs, as the formal object
of that visit or sight. So that when we livingly and spiritually
know the history of the birth of Christ in the flesh; the inward
revelation or illumination of God, which is like the sun’s light,
proceeding from the divine sun, doth shine into the eye of the
mind, and by its influence moves the mind to assent unto the
historical truth of Christ’s birth, life, &c. in the reading or
hearing the Scripture, or meditating therein.
‘Thirdly, Nevertheless we do firmly assert, that God can most
easily, clearly, and certainly, manifest to our minds the
historical truths of Christ’s birth, &c. when it so pleaseth
him, even without the Scripture, or any other outward means. And
because this argument seems to be formed against the possibility
of such a revelation, therefore I shall proceed to discuss it:
but first thou mayest mind, that the prophets who foretold
Christ’s coming in the flesh, and being to be born of a virgin,
and afterwards to suffer death, did know these truths of fact by
the inward inspiration of God, without outward means: for which
see 1 Pet. i. 10, 11. Now that which hath been may be.
‘Fourthly, This argument doth at most conclude, that we cannot
know naturally any truth of fact, but by the relation of another
without, us, or by the preception of the outward senses; because
there are naturally in our minds no ideas concerning contingent
truths, (and every truth of fact is a contingent truth,) as
there are of necessary truths. This then proveth, that we cannot
naturally know any contingent truth, but by the relation of
another, or perception of the outward senses: but that hindreth
not, but we may know a contingent truth by a supernatural
knowledge, God supplying the place of an outward relator; who is
so true, that he may, and ought to be believed, since God is the
fountain of truth.
‘Fifthly, When God doth make known unto men any matter of fact
by divine immediate revelation or inspiration, God speaking as
to the ear of the heart of the inward man, or as by his finger
writing therein, two things are to be considered in such an
immediate revelation.
[Greek: Τὸ: To][43] _Materiale_, The matter of fact, or thing
revealed, which is contingent.
[43] _The_ in Greek. Latin lacks a definite
article.--_Transcriber._
[Greek: Τὸ: To][44] _Formale_, The form or mode, how the
revelation is made: which form is an inward, divine, and
supernatural revelation, which is the voice or speech of God,
inwardly speaking to the ear of the inward man or mind of man,
or a divine writing supernaturally imprinted therein. Now as
to the material part, or the thing and matter revealed, this is
indeed a contingent truth, and of itself is not manifest to the
mind; but because of the form, that is, because of the divine
mode, and supernatural inward operation, the matter is known to
be true. For that divine and supernatural inward operation, which
the mind doth feel and perceive in itself, is the voice of God
speaking unto man, which by its nature and specific property is
as clearly distinguished and understood to be the voice of God,
as the voice of Peter or James is known to be the voice of such
men. For every being as a being is knowable, and that by its own
specific nature, or property proceeding from its nature; and
hath its proper idea, by which it is distinguishable from every
other thing, if so be its idea be stirred up in us, and clearly
proposed to us.
[44] _The_ in Greek. Latin lacks a definite
article.--_Transcriber._
‘Sixthly: Now as some beings are natural, some supernatural,
so some ideas are natural, some supernatural: and as when any
natural idea is excited in us, we clearly know it; so also when a
supernatural idea is raised, we clearly know that, whereof it is
the idea. But the voice of God speaking to the mind of man, is a
supernatural being, and stirreth up in us a supernatural idea, by
which we clearly know that inward voice to be the voice of God,
and not the voice or operation of another, or of any evil spirit,
or angel, because none of these have a supernatural idea, as the
voice of God, and his divine operation hath: for it is full of
vigour, virtue, and divine glory, as saith the psalmist, who had
often experience of it; and we also in our measures are witnesses
thereof, for the voice of God is known to be his by its divine
virtue.
‘Seventhly: The senses are either outward or inward: and the
inward senses are either natural or supernatural; we have an
example of the inward natural sense in being angered or pacified,
in love and hatred; or when we perceive and discern any natural
truth, such as the natural maxims, to wit, that the whole is
greater than the part, &c. or when we deduce any conclusion by
the strength of natural reason, that perception also in a larger
sense, may be called an inward sense. But an example of an inward
supernatural sense is, when the heart or soul of a pious man,
feels in itself divine motions, influences, and operations,
which sometimes are as the voice or speech of God, sometimes
as a most pleasant and glorious illustration or visible object
to the inward eye, sometimes as a most sweet savour or taste,
sometimes as an heavenly and divine warmness, or, so to speak,
melting of the soul in the love of God. Moreover, this divine and
supernatural operation in the mind of man, is a true and most
glorious miracle; which when it is perceived by the inward and
supernatural sense divinely raised up in the mind of man, doth so
evidently and clearly persuade the understanding to assent to the
thing revealed, that there is no need of an outward miracle: for
this assent is not because of the thing itself, but because of
the revelation proposing it, which is the voice of God. For when
the voice of God is heard in the soul, the soul doth as certainly
conclude the truth of that voice, as the truth of God’s being,
from whom it proceeds.
‘These things being thus premised, I now proceed to a direct
answer. For what is said, that God cannot make a contingent truth
to become a necessary truth, I agree; but when any contingent
truth is manifest to us by the immediate revelation of God,
there is in it two things to be considered, to wit, the thing
revealed, which is contingent; and the revelation itself:
which upon the supposition, that it is a divine revelation,
is no contingent truth, but a most necessary truth. And this
all mankind will say, that this proposition, every divine
revelation is necessarily true, is as clear and evident, as that
proposition, that every whole is greater than its part.
‘But thou wilt say; how knowest thou that a divine revelation is
a divine revelation? I answer, how knowest thou that a whole is a
whole, and a part is a part? thou wilt say, by the natural idea
excited in me of a whole, and of a part. I answer again; even so
a divine revelation is known to be such by a supernatural idea of
divine revelation stirred up in us, and that by a divine motion,
or supernatural operation. But it is no wonder that men, who have
no experience of supernatural ideas, or at least do not heed
them, do deny them; which is, as if a man naturally blind denied
light or colours; or a deaf man sounds, because they experience
them not. Therefore, we cannot dissemble, that we feel a fervent
zeal even divinely kindled in us against such an absurd opinion,
as affirms, that God cannot ascertain us of his will in any
contingent truth, but by proposing it to the outward senses. This
opinion does in a manner turn men into brutes, as if man were not
to believe his God, unless he propose what is to be believed to
the outward senses, which the beasts have common with us; yea, it
derogates from God’s power, and imputes weakness to him, as if
he could not do that, which not only both good and evil angels
can do, but which the meanest creatures can do, and the most
insensible. As for instance: the heat of the fire, the coldness
of the air and water worketh upon us; yea, if a pin prick us, we
feel it, and that by the outward sense; because the objects are
outward and carnal: but since God is a most pure and glorious
Spirit, when he operateth in the innermost parts of our minds by
his will; shall not he and his will be clearly felt according to
his nature, that is, by a spiritual and supernatural sense? For
as the nature of God is, so is the nature of his will, to wit,
purely spiritual, and therefore requireth a spiritual sense to
discern it; which spiritual sense, when it is raised up in us by
a divine operation, doth as clearly and certainly know the voice
or revelation of the will of God, concerning any thing which God
is pleased to reveal, however contingent, as the outward sense
knows and perceives the outward object. And it is no less absurd,
to require of God, who is a most pure Spirit, to manifest his
will to men by the outward senses, else not to be credited; as to
require us to see sounds, and hear lights and colours. For as the
objects of the outward senses are not to be confounded, but every
object is to have its proper sense; so must we judge of inward
and spiritual objects, which have their proper sense, whereby
they are to be perceived. And tell me, how God doth manifest his
will concerning matters of fact, when he sends his angels to men,
since angels, (as is commonly received,) have not outward senses,
or at least not so gross ones, as ours are? Yea, when men die,
and appear before the tribunal of God, whether unto eternal life
or death, how can they know this, having laid down their bodies,
and therewith their outward senses? And nevertheless this truth
of God is a truth of fact, as is the historical truth of Christ’s
birth in the flesh. And which is yet more near: how do good and
holy men even in this life most certainly know, that they are
in the favour and grace of God? no outward revelation doth make
this known unto them; but the Spirit, as saith the apostle,
beareth witness with our spirits, that we are the children of
God. For the mere testimony of a human conscience, without inward
testimony of the holy Spirit, cannot beget in us a firm and
immoveable testimony of our sonship, because the heart of man is
deceitful; and if the testimony thereof were true, at most it is
but a human testimony, which begetteth in us only a human faith:
but that faith, by which holy men believe they are the sons of
God, is a divine faith, which leans upon a divine testimony of
the holy Spirit, witnessing in them that they are the sons of
God. Moreover, when a good man feels in himself that undeclarable
joy of the holy Spirit, concerning which the holy Scripture
speaks, and which is the common privilege of the saints, how or
whence feels he this joy? Truly, this argument concludes no less
against this heavenly spiritual joy, which is begotten in the
souls of the saints by the holy Spirit, than it does against the
immediate revelation of God: for there is no natural idea of this
spiritual joy, else mere natural men, yea, such as are profane
and ungodly, would feel it as much as the godly: but because it
is a supernatural thing, therefore it can have no true idea but
what is supernatural. Moreover, whence is it that profane men
feel sometimes in themselves the wrath of God as fire, when all
things, as to the outward, go as prosperously with them as with
the godly, and oftentimes more prosperously? For there is no
natural idea in men of this inward wrath of God. There is also an
inward grief oftentimes raised up in wicked men from the sense of
this wrath of God, which very much vexeth and tormenteth their
minds; and nevertheless this grief hath no natural idea in us:
for oftentimes wicked men feel not this sorrow; for God sometimes
is, as it were, silent, while the wicked sin, as in Psalm 1.
‘All which things do most clearly demonstrate, that there are
in men supernatural ideas of supernatural beings; which ideas
are nevertheless not perceived by us, unless they be stirred
up by some supernatural operation of God, which raiseth up in
us supernatural and spiritual senses, which by their nature
are as distinguishable from the natural senses, whether inward
or outward, as the natural senses are distinguished one from
another by their specific difference. Of which spiritual senses
the Scripture speaks frequently, as Heb. v. and xiv. where is
spoken of the spiritual senses in general, by which the spiritual
man hath the discerning of good and evil: which good is of a
spiritual nature, and conduceth to feed in us a spiritual and
divine life; and the evil is of that kind, by which the spiritual
life is in us hurt; to wit, sins, whether carnal or spiritual;
all which cannot be discerned but by such who have spiritual
senses stirred up in them, as saith the apostle. In other
places the Scripture also speaketh of these spiritual senses
in particular; as of the spiritual seeing, Psalm xxxiv. 9. Of
the spiritual hearing, Psalm lxxxv. 9. Of spiritual tasting,
Psalm xxxiv. 8. Of spiritual smelling, Cant. i. 3. Of spiritual
touching, Acts xvii. 8, and in many other places of Scripture
we read of those spiritual senses in particular. Yea, it is the
promise of the gospel, that the glory of God shall be seen of
holy men, such as are clean of heart, even in this life: Isaiah
xxxiii. 17. Mat. v. 8. Which were fulfilled in the primitive
Christians, see John i. 14. 1 John i. 2, 3, 4. 2 Cor. iii. 18,
and chap. iv. 6. But what is this vision of God and divine glory,
which the souls of the saints enjoy in this life, which is only
as the earnest or first-fruits of that more abundant glorious
vision in the life to come, concerning which the Scripture so
much declareth, which is the highest happiness of the immortal
soul.
‘For this argument seemeth to do no less injury to the saints,
than to rob them of this most glorious treasure both in this
life, and that to come. For there is in us no natural idea of
this divine glory, as there is not of God himself which is any
ways proportionable unto so great happiness, which the Scripture
so much declareth of, by which the godly are rewarded partly in
this life, and plenarily in that which is to come. We confess
indeed, there is in all men, as well the godly as ungodly,
some sort of idea of God, as of a most perfect being; and that
therefore this proposition, there existeth a most perfect being,
doth as clearly appear to human understanding, as that the whole
is greater than the part: and therefore this proposition, that
a most perfect being existeth, ought to be numbered among the
principles, that of themselves are manifest. But this idea of God
is as manifest to ungodly, as to godly men; yea, it is clearly
perceived by the devil, as by the most holy angels: for all the
devils know that God is; but yet how blind is the devil, and all
wicked men, as to the vision of God, which is the chief reward of
the saints.
‘There is then either no such vision of God, neither in this
life, nor in that to come; or there is a supernatural idea of
God in us, by which we are made capable of this vision; which
supernatural idea of God differeth much from that natural idea of
God, which Cartesius and his followers so much talk of, (albeit
others long before Cartesius did observe this natural idea of
God, and spoke of it.) But the happiness of the saints consists
not in contemplating this natural idea of God, else the wicked
would be as happy as the godly; yea, the very devil as the most
holy angel: since, as is said, both the devil and most wicked men
do as clearly perceive this natural idea of God, as the most holy
men or angels.
‘If the Scripture then be true, there is in men a supernatural
idea of God, which altogether differs from this natural idea: I
say, in all men; because all men are capable of salvation, and
consequently of enjoying this Divine vision. Now this capacity
consisteth herein, that they have such a supernatural idea in
themselves: for if there were no such idea in them, it were
impossible they should so know God. For whatsoever is clearly
and distinctly known, is known by its proper idea; neither can
it other-ways be clearly and distinctly known: for the ideas of
all things are divinely planted in our souls; for they are not
begotten in us by outward objects, or outward causes, as the
better philosophy teacheth, but only are by these outward things
excited or stirred up. And this is true not only in supernatural
ideas of God, and things divine, and in natural ideas of the
natural principles of human understanding, and conclusions thence
deduced by the strength of human reason: but even in the ideas
of outward objects, which are perceived by the outward senses;
as that noble Christian philosopher Bœtius hath well observed;
to which also the Cartesian philosophy agreeth. For when I see
any outward object, whether it be a man, or horse, or bird, the
outward object does not treat in my eye, nor yet in my mind the
idea of those things; for the outward object does nothing but
imprint in our sensible organs a corporeal motion. Now there
is nothing in a corporeal motion that can form in us the ideas
of those things; for all ideas are of a spiritual nature: now
nothing that is corporeal can produce that which is spiritual,
because the less excellent cannot produce the more excellent,
else the effect would exceed its cause: which is against all
sound reason, that it should bring forth what were of a higher
and more excellent kind. Therefore all ideas, whether of natural
or spiritual things, are divinely implanted in our minds; which
nevertheless do not always appear, but sometimes appear, and
sometimes are as it were hid in us, and sometimes are stirred
up in us by causes outward or inward, and again do as it were
sleep and shun our observation, and seem not to be otherways
distinguished by our minds, but as thoughts and perceptions of
the mind from the mind itself; that is, as the mode from the
subject, or as a bodily motion from the body, whereof it is the
motion: for as is the relation of a bodily motion to a body,
so is the relation of a thought or perception of the mind to
the mind. In this nevertheless they differ, that the mind can
move itself, and operate in itself: which a body cannot do: but
as a body can be moved by another, so also can the mind after
this manner be moved by another, and that both by outward and
inward causes, but chiefly by God himself, in whose hand all
souls and creatures are. But of these things there is enough
said at present; and I hope, I have not thus far impertinently
philosophised.
‘As there are then natural ideas concerning the things of the
natural world; as for instance, ideas of light and colours,
ideas of voice and sound, ideas of savouring and smelling, ideas
of tasting and feeling, as of heat and cold, of grief and joy;
it follows also, that there are ideas of supernatural things,
concerning the divine and supernatural things of the divine and
supernatural world; as ideas of those things above-mentioned
in the spiritual world. And as the natural ideas are stirred
up in us by outward and natural bodies, so those divine and
supernatural ideas are stirred up in us by a certain principle,
which is a body in naturals, in relation to the spiritual world,
and therefore may be called a divine body; not as if it were
a part of God, who is a most pure spirit; but the organ, or
instrument of God, by which he worketh in us, and stirreth up in
us these ideas of divine things. This is that flesh and blood of
Christ, by which the saints are nourished; which is a mystery to
all unregenerated and mere natural men, never to be reached by
them, while they remain in that state.
‘Now if there be such supernatural ideas, there are also senses,
or perceptive faculties by which those ideas are perceived; for
those are two relatives that suppose and infer one another:
but in wicked men those senses or faculties do as it were
sleep, as the visive faculty of a blind man; but in the godly
they are stirred up. Now by these divine and spiritual senses,
which are distinct and distinguishable from all the natural
faculties of the soul, whether of imagination, or natural reason,
spiritual minded men do behold the glory and beauty of God, in
respect whereof, and for which, all the glory of this world is
despicable to them; yea, even as dross and dung. And they also
hear God inwardly speaking in their souls, words truly divine
and heavenly, full of virtue and divine life; and the savour and
taste of divine things, and do, as it were, handle them with the
hands of their souls. And those heavenly enjoyments do as really
differ in their nature from all false similitudes, and fictitious
appearances of them, which either the mind of man by its own
strength can imitate, or any evil spirit to deceive man can
counterfeit; as a true man differs from the dead image of a man,
or true bread, honey, wine, or milk, doth from the mere picture
of those things. And albeit either the imagination of man, or
subtilty of the devil, may counterfeit false likenesses of these
enjoyments, by which men may be deceived; and no doubt many are
deceived; that doth not hinder, but that those divine enjoyments
are clearly perceived in such, in whom the divine and spiritual
senses are truly opened, and the true supernatural ideas of those
things truly raised up.
‘And if there be at any time a mistake, the divine illumination
is not the cause of that mistake, but some evil disposition
of the mind; as happeneth in those things relating to natural
reason. For there are many false appearances of reason, which
differ as much from true reason, as those false and pretended
revelations, and diabolical inspirations from such as are truly
divine. Now, how many men who would be esteemed philosophers,
are miserably deceived by those false likenesses of reason,
judging their false reasons to be the true similitudes of things
and solid ratiocinations; which nevertheless moveth no man of
sound reason, to reject sound and solid reason, as doubtful and
uncertain? For even sound natural reason is an excellent gift of
God, and very useful to mankind, when used in its proper place:
but let none think to comprehend by their natural reason things
that are of a divine and supernatural kind. And as we use to
do, when any one is deceived by false appearances of reason, we
endeavour to reduce them to contemplate the first natural ideas
of natural things, and to meditate therein, which is as a test or
touchstone, by which all the appearances and likenesses of reason
are to be examined; if they contradict them, to be rejected; so
also when any one is deceived by his own imagination, or the
cunning of satan, thinking any evil inspiration of the devil to
be a true divine revelation, he that is so deceived, is to be
reduced to the natural ideas of things, (if so be that pretended
revelation doth contradict them, for no true divine revelation
can contradict the true natural ideas,) or to the supernatural
ideas of divine things, which are most simple, clear, and obvious
to the minds of men, if they will turn their minds to the divine
seed in them; or at least those ideas are readily and easily
stirred up. For as in natural ideas, so in supernatural, some are
more easily raised than others: for there is a certain order both
of natural and supernatural ideas, whereby they are gradually
excited: nor is there any mortal man, in whose mind at some
time or other there is not stirred up some idea that is truly
supernatural and divine, and who hath not felt in himself both
the wrath and judgment of God for his sins; and also some tender
and gentle taste of God’s love and goodness, by which wicked
men are invited to repentance. Now that which is thought to be
a divine revelation, and is felt to contradict any divine and
supernatural idea, which is clearly perceived in the soul, it is
a manifest token that it is not a divine revelation, but either a
false imagination, or the wicked suggestion of some evil spirit.
‘But to proceed: if we will hear the Scripture, (as all
Christians ought,) it testifies to us, that God hath declared
his mind and will even concerning contingent truths to come, in
the prophets; as that of the first to the Hebrews doth evidently
declare: “God, who at sundry times, and in divers manners spoke
to our fathers in the prophets.” Yea, let us hear the prophets
themselves; Hosea, chap. i. saith plainly, “That the word of the
Lord was made in him,” as it is in the Hebrew. Habakuk also says,
As he was standing on his watch, to see what Jehovah would speak
in him. And it is so manifest that the most heavenly revelations
are by inward illustrations, and inspirations in the very minds
of the prophets, that it is strange how any that believe in the
Scripture should doubt of it. And if it happened at any time,
such revelations were made in the natural imaginations of the
prophets, or any of their inward natural senses, then it may be
confessed, they could not be infallibly certain they came from
God; unless they also felt God in the divine and supernatural
senses, by which they did most nearly approach to him, from these
superior and most inward senses, working upon the lower and less
noble faculties of the mind. But whichever way the prophets were
certain, that they were inspired of God, even when they foretold
contingent truths to come, it is without doubt, they were most
certainly persuaded, that they were divinely inspired, and that
frequently without any outward miracle. For John the Baptist did
no miracle; and many prophesied, where there appeared no miracle:
as in the Scriptures may be often observed. And we also by the
inspiration of the same Divine spirit, by which the prophets
prophesied, do believe their words and writings to be divine,
concerning contingent truths, as well past as to come; else that
faith, by which we believe the Scripture, would not be divine,
but merely human. And thence we need no outward miracles to move
us to believe the Scriptures; and therefore much less were they
necessary to the prophets who wrote them. For we see in many
places of the prophets, where they declare prophesies as revealed
to them of God, there is not a word mentioned of any outward
miracle, as that by which alone they were certain of it.
‘Moreover, the falseness of this argument doth appear, in that
the Scripture doth declare many contingent truths to have been
revealed to the prophets in dreams. Now as natural and wicked men
do not see what they dream by a real perception of the outward
senses, but by inward ideas which are presented to the mind, and
perceived by it, so it is also in divine revelations of this
nature. Of which we have a clear example in Joseph, the husband
of the blessed Virgin, who, when he observed his wife with
child, was told in a dream, that she had conceived by the Holy
Ghost: now I would know, to which of Joseph’s outward senses was
this revealed? or what miracle had he to induce him to believe?
which could neither be proved, so as to make an infallible
application to Mary, by the testimony of the Scripture; and which
being against the order of nature, did choke his reason. The
Scripture mentions no miracle in this matter; and yet no doubt
Joseph had highly sinned had he not believed this revelation,
and notwithstanding, rejected his wife as an adultress. But if
thou sayest, that according to thy hypothesis there must have
been a miracle; that is only to beg the question: and how false
this hypothesis is, the apostle shows clearly, 1 Cor. ii. 14.
the natural or animal man knoweth not, receiveth not, the things
of God. Now divine revelations are of this nature; if either
chiefly or only those things were to be judged by the outward
senses, it would contradict the apostle. For natural men, yea,
the most wicked, have the use of the outward senses as true and
exact as the most godly. And whereas the apostle adds, “For
they are spiritually discerned,” it puts the matter out of all
question: for thence it abundantly appears, that this discerning
is not by the outward senses according to the following verse;
for the apostle saith, “The spiritual man judgeth all things:”
this then must be done by some senses or properties peculiar to
the spiritual man, and in which he excels the natural man, which
is not in the outward senses, as we all do know. Therefore the
perception of “spiritual things cannot be by the outward senses,
either as the chief or only means,” as is falsely contended for.
‘Now as to these words of the apostle, Rom. x. That faith comes
by hearing; Zuinglius observed well, that the apostle intended
not to affirm faith to come by the hearing of the outward word;
neither do the following words prove it, “How shall they believe,
unless they hear? and how shall they hear without a preacher?
and how shall they preach, unless they be sent?” for the apostle
uses these words, not as his arguments, but as objections which
might be formed; as the same apostle uses in other places; to
which objections he answers in the same chapter, as appears
verse 18. “But I say, have not they all heard? yes, truly their
voice went into all the earth:” that is, of the Father and Son,
or the Father in the word; which word is not only near us, but
according to the same apostle in the same chapter, in our mouths,
and in our hearts. But further thou canst conclude nothing from
this, but that faith is begotten by outward hearing only, and no
otherwise: for this is the strength of thy argument, that since
faith cannot be without outward hearing, therefore nothing can
certainly be believed, but where somewhat is proposed to the
outward hearing. For if thou acknowledge faith can be begotten
any otherwise than by hearing, thou losest the strength of thy
argument: and if that argument hold, that faith comes only by
outward hearing, thou destroyest the whole hypothesis. For having
before affirmed, that outward miracles are sufficient to render
one certain of the truth of any revelation; whether it be the
healing of the sick, or the raising of the dead, would avail
nothing, because those, (as for the most part all miracles,) are
obvious to the sight, not to the hearing: and if it be not by
outward hearing only, thou canst conclude nothing from this place.
‘But I the more wonder thy using of this argument, considering
the discourse we had together before we entered upon this debate:
for when we were speaking of the opinion of a certain person, who
denied the certainty of every thing, but what was discerned by
the outward senses, thou condemnedst it as most absurd; but why,
I cannot conceive, since there is no great difference betwixt
these two opinions: the one saith there can be no great certainty
concerning any truths, whether they be necessary or contingent,
but by the perception of the senses: the other affirms the same
of contingent truths, though not of necessary truths. But among
the number of contingent truths thou esteemest what belongs to
Christian religion, for thou reckons the necessary truths only
to belong to natural religion. This then is all the difference,
that that other person says, there is no certainty of any
religion, neither natural nor Christian, but by the perception
of the outward senses: but thou sayest though thou esteemest
the certainty of natural religion to be without them, yet not
of the Christian religion. But again, since thou esteemest that
not natural religion but the Christian religion is necessary to
salvation, thou must necessarily conclude, that those truths
which are necessary to salvation, are only known and believed by
the benefit of the outward senses: in which conclusion, (which is
the sum of all,) thou yieldest the matter to that other person.
‘But lastly: if all the certainty of our faith, hope, and
salvation, did depend upon the infallibility of outward
senses, we should be most miserable; since these senses can be
easily deceived, and, by many outward casualties and natural
infirmities, whereunto the godly are no less subject than the
wicked, are often vitiated; and there are, (as the Scripture
affirms,) false miracles, which, as to the outward, cannot be
distinguished from the true; of which we cannot infallibly judge
by the outward senses, which only discern what is outward.
‘There is a necessity then to have recourse to some other means.
‘From all which it does appear, how fallacious and weak this
argument is: but thanks be unto God, who would not that our faith
should be built upon so uncertain and doubtful a foundation. And
whoever hath known true faith, or hath felt the divine testimony
of God’s spirit in his soul, will judge otherwise, neither will
be moved by such reasonings. I pray God therefore to remove these
clouds, which darken thy understanding, that thou mayest perceive
the glorious gospel of Christ; this is that saving word of grace
which I commend thee unto; and that God may give thee a heart
inclinable to believe and obey the truth, is the desire of
Thy faithful friend,
R. BARCLAY.’
From the prison of Aberdeen, in
Scotland, where I am confined for
the sake of the testimony of Jesus.
November 24, 1676.
This letter, a year ago, at the desire of my friend R. B. I
delivered into the hands of the afore-named ambassador,
desiring his answer in writing, which he then promised; but not
having as yet done, it was seen meet to be published.