T. E.

KENT, _the 4th of the Seventh Month_, 1650.

A copy of the foregoing lines, enclosed in a letter of condolence, I sent

by the first post into Buckinghamshire, to my dear friends the afflicted

parents; and upon my return home, going to visit them, we sat down, and

solemnly mixed our sorrows and tears together.

About this time, as I remember, it was that some bickerings happening

between some Baptists and some of the people called Quakers, in or about

High Wycombe, in Buckinghamshire, occasioned by some reflecting words a

Baptist preacher had publicly uttered in one of their meetings there,

against the Quakers in general, and William Penn in particular, it came

at length to this issue, that a meeting for a public dispute was

appointed, to be holden at West Wycombe, between Jeremy Ives, who

espoused his brother’s cause, and William Penn.

To this meeting, it being so near me, I went, rather to countenance the

cause than for any delight I took in such work; for indeed I have rarely

found the advantage equivalent to the trouble and danger arising from

those contests; for which cause I would not choose them, as, being justly

engaged, I would not refuse them.

The issue of this proved better than I expected; for Ives, having

undertaken an ill cause, to argue against the Divine light and universal

grace conferred by God on all men, when he had spent his stock of

arguments which he brought with him on that subject, finding his work go

on heavily and the auditory not well satisfied, stepped down from his

seat and departed, with purpose to have broken up the assembly. But,

except some few of his party who followed him, the people generally

stayed, and were the more attentive to what was afterwards delivered

amongst them; which Ives understanding, came in again, and in an angry,

railing manner, expressing his dislike that we went not all away when he

did, gave more disgust to the people.

After the meeting was ended, I sent to my friend Isaac Penington, by his

son and servant, who returned home, though it was late, that evening, a

short account of the business in the following distich:—

_Prævaluit veritas_: _inimnici terga dedere_;

_Nos sumus in tuto_; _laus tribuenda Deo_.

Which may be thus Englished:

Truth hath prevailed; the enemies did fly;

We are in safety; praise to God on high.

But both they and we had quickly other work found us: it soon became a

stormy time. The clouds had been long gathering and threatening a

tempest. The Parliament had sat some time before, and hatched that

unaccountable law which was called the Conventicle Act; if that may be

allowed to be called a law, by whomsoever made, which was so directly

contrary to the fundamental laws of England, to common justice, equity,

and right reason, as this manifestly was. For,

_First_, It broke down and overrun the bounds and banks anciently set for

the defence and security of Englishmen’s lives, liberties, and

properties—viz., trial by juries; instead thereof, directing and

authorizing justices of the peace, and that too privately out of

sessions, to convict, fine, and by their warrants distrain upon offenders

against it; directly contrary to the Great Charter.

_Secondly_, By that Act the informers, who swear for their own advantage,

as being thereby entitled to a third part of the fines, were many times

concealed, driving on an underhand private trade; so that men might be,

and often were, convicted and fined, without having any notice or

knowledge of it till the officers came and took away their goods, nor

even then could they tell by whose evidence they were convicted; than

which what could be more opposite to common justice, which requires that

every man should be openly charged and have his accuser face to face,

that he might both answer for himself before he be convicted, and object

to the validity of the evidence given against him?

_Thirdly_, By that Act the innocent were punished for the offences of the

guilty. If the wife or child was convicted of having been at one of

those assemblies which by that Act was adjudged unlawful, the fine was

levied on the goods of the husband or father of such wife or child,

though he was neither present at such assembly, nor was of the same

religious persuasion that they were of, but perhaps an enemy to it.

_Fourthly_, It was left in the arbitrary pleasure of the justices to lay

half the fine for the house or ground where such assembly was holden, and

half the fine for a pretended unknown preacher, and the whole fines of

such and so many of the meeters as they should account poor, upon any

other or others of the people who were present at the same meeting, not

exceeding a certain limited sum; without any regard to equity or reason.

And yet, such blindness doth the spirit of persecution bring on men,

otherwise sharp-sighted enough, that this unlawful, unjust, unequal,

unreasonable, and unrighteous law took place in almost all places, and

was rigorously prosecuted against the meetings of Dissenters in general,

though the brunt of the storm fell most sharply on the people called

Quakers; not that it seemed to be more particularly levelled at them, but

that they stood more fair, steady, and open, as a butt to receive all the

shot that came, while some others found means and freedom to retire to

coverts for shelter.

No sooner had the bishops obtained this law for suppressing all other

meetings but their own, but some of the clergy of most ranks, and some

others too who were overmuch bigoted to that party, bestirred themselves

with might and main to find out and encourage the most profligate

wretches to turn informers, and to get such persons into parochial

offices as would be most obsequious to their commands, and ready at their

beck to put it into the most rigorous execution. Yet it took not alike

in all places, but some were forwarder in the work than others, according

as the agents intended to be chiefly employed therein had been

predisposed thereunto.

For in some parts of the nation care had been timely taken, by some not

of the lowest rank, to choose out some particular persons—men of sharp

wit, close countenances, pliant tempers, and deep dissimulation—and send

them forth among the sectaries, so called, with instructions to thrust

themselves into all societies, conform to all or any sort of religious

profession, Proteus-like change their shapes, and transform themselves

from one religious appearance to another as occasion should require. In

a word, to be all things to all—not that they might win some, but that

they might, if possible, ruin all; at least many.

The drift of this design was, that they who employed them might by this

means get a full account what number of Dissenters’ meetings, of every

sort, there were in each county, and where kept; what number of persons

frequented them, and of what rank; who amongst them were persons of

estate, and where they lived; that when they should afterwards have

troubled the waters, they might the better know where with most advantage

to cast their nets.

He of these emissaries whose post was assigned him in this county of

Bucks adventured to thrust himself upon a Friend under the counterfeit

appearance or a Quaker, but being by the Friend suspected, and thereupon

dismissed unentertained, he was forced to betake himself to an inn or

alehouse for accommodation. Long he had not been there ere his unruly

nature, not to be long kept under by the curb of a feigned society, broke

forth into open profaneness; so true is that of the poet,

_Naturam expellas furca licet_, _usque recurret_.

To fuddling now falls he with those whom he found tippling there before,

and who but he amongst them in him was then made good the proverb, _in

vino veritas_, for in his cups he out with that which was no doubt to

have been kept a secret. ’Twas to his pot companions that, after his

head was somewhat heated with strong liquors, he discovered that he was

sent forth by Dr. Mew, the then Vice-Chancellor of Oxford, on the design

before related, and under the protection of Justice Morton, a warrant

under whose hand and seal he there produced.

Sensible of his error too late, when sleep had restored him to some

degree of sense, and discouraged with this ill success of his attempt

upon the Quakers, he quickly left that place, and crossing through the

country, cast himself among the Baptists at a meeting which they held in

a private place, of which the over-easy credulity of some that went among

them, whom he had craftily insinuated himself into, had given him notice.

The entertainment he found amongst them deserved a better return than he

made them; for, having smoothly wrought himself into their good opinion,

and cunningly drawn some of them into an unwary openness and freedom of

conversation with him upon the unpleasing subject of the severity of

those times, he most villainously impeached one of them, whose name was —

Headach, a man well reputed amongst his neighbours, of having spoken

treasonable words, and thereby brought the man in danger of losing both

his estate and life, had not a seasonable discovery of his abominable

practices elsewhere, imprinting terror, the effect of guilt, upon him,

caused him to fly both out of the court and country at that very instant

of time when the honest man stood at the bar ready to be arraigned upon

his false accusation.

This his false charge against the Baptist left him no further room to

play the hypocrite in those parts; off therefore go his cloak and vizor.

And now he openly appears in his proper colours, to disturb the

assemblies of God’s people, which was indeed the very end for which the

design at first was laid.

But because the law provided that a conviction must be grounded upon the

oaths of two witnesses, it was needful for him, in order to the carrying

on his intended mischief, to find out an associate who might be both

sordid enough for such an employment and vicious enough to be his

companion.

This was not an easy task, yet he found out one who had already given an

experiment of his readiness to take other men’s goods, being not long

before released out of Aylesbury gaol, where he very narrowly escaped the

gallows for having stolen a cow.

The names of these fellows being yet unknown in that part of the country

where they began their work, the former, by the general voice of the

country, was called the Trepan; the latter, the Informer, and from the

colour of his hair Red-hair. But in a little time the Trepan called

himself John Poulter, adding withal that Judge Morton used to call him

John for the King, and that the Archbishop of Canterbury had given him a

deaconry. That his name was indeed John Poulter, the reputed son of one

— Poulter, a butcher in Salisbury, and that he had long since been there

branded for a fellow egregiously wicked and debauched, we were assured by

the testimony of a young man then living in Amersham, who both was his

countryman and had known him in Salisbury, as well as by a letter from an

inhabitant of that place, to whom his course of life had been well known.

His comrade, who for some time was only called the Informer, was named

Ralph Lacy, of Risborough, and surnamed the Cow-stealer.

These agreed between themselves where to make their first onset, which

was to be, and was, on the meeting of the people called Quakers, then

holden at the house of William Russell, called Jourdan’s, in the parish

of Giles Chalfont, in the county of Bucks; that which was wanting to

their accommodation was a place of harbour, for assistance wherein

recourse was had to Parson Philips, none being so ready, none so willing,

none so able to help them as he.

A friend he had in a corner, a widow woman, not long before one of his

parishioners; her name was Anne Dell, and at that time she lived at a

farm called Whites, a bye-place in the parish of Beaconsfield, whither

she removed from Hitchindon. To her these fellows were recommended by

her old friend the parson. She with all readiness received them; her

house was at all times open to them; what she had was at their command.

Two sons she had at home with her, both at man’s estate. The younger

son, whose name was John Dell, listed himself in the service of his

mother’s new guests, to attend on them as their guide, and to inform them

(who were too much strangers to pretend to know the names of any of the

persons there) whom they should inform against.

Thus consorted, thus in a triple league confederated, on the 24th day of

the fifth month, commonly called July, in the year 1670, they appeared

openly, and began to act their intended tragedy upon the Quakers’ meeting

at the place aforesaid, to which I belonged, and at which I was present.

Here the chief actor, Poulter, behaved himself with such impetuous

violence and brutish rudeness as gave occasion for inquiry who or what he

was? And being soon discovered to be the Trepan, so infamous and

abhorred by all sober people, and afterwards daily detected of gross

impieties and the felonious taking of certain goods from one of

Brainford, whom also he cheated of money—these things raising an outcry

in the country upon him, made him consult his own safety, and leaving his

part to be acted by others, quitted the country as soon as he could.

He being gone, Satan soon supplied his place by sending one Richard Aris,

a broken ironmonger of Wycombe, to join with Lacy in this service,

prompted thereto in hopes that he might thereby repair his broken

fortune.

Of this new adventurer this single character may serve, whereby the

reader may make judgment of him as of the lion by his paw; that at the

sessions held at Wycombe in October then last past he was openly accused

of having enticed one Harding, of the same town, to be his companion and

associate in robbing on the highway, and proof offered to be made that he

had made bullets in order to that service; which charge Harding himself,

whom he had endeavoured to draw into that heinous wickedness, was ready

in court to prove upon oath had not the prosecution been discountenanced

and smothered.

Lacy, the cow-stealer, having thus got Aris, the intended highwayman, to

be his comrade, they came on the 21st of the month called August, 1670,

to the meeting of the people called Quakers, where Lacy, with Poulter,

had been a month before; and taking for granted that the same who had

been there before were there then, they went to a justice of the peace

called Sir Thomas Clayton, and swore at all adventure against one Thomas

Zachary and his wife, whom Lacy understood to have been there the month

before, that they were then present in that meeting; whereas neither the

said Thomas Zachary nor his wife were at that meeting, but were both of

them at London, above twenty miles distant, all that day, having been

there some time before and after; which notwithstanding, upon this false

oath of these false men, the Justice laid fines upon the said Thomas

Zachary of £10 for his own offence, £10 for his wife’s, and £10 for the

offence of a pretended preacher, though indeed there was not any that

preached at that meeting that day; and issued forth his warrant to the

officers of Beaconsfield, where Thomas Zachary dwelt, for the levying of

the same upon his goods.

I mention these things thus particularly, though not an immediate

suffering of my own, because in the consequence thereof it occasioned no

small trouble and exercise to me.

For when Thomas Zachary, returning home from London, understanding what

had been done against him, and advising what to do, was informed by a

neighbouring attorney that his remedy lay in appealing from the judgment

of the convicting Justice to the general Quarter Sessions of the Peace,

he thereupon ordering the said attorney to draw up his appeal in form of

law, went himself with it, and tendered it to the Justice. But the

Justice being a man neither well principled nor well natured, and uneasy

that he should lose the advantage both of the present conviction and

future service of such (in his judgment) useful men as those two bold

informers were likely to be, fell sharply upon Thomas Zachary, charging

him that he suffered justly, and that his suffering was not on a

religious account.

This rough and unjust dealing engaged the good man to enter into further

discourse with the Justice in defence of his own innocency; from which

discourse the insidious Justice, taking offence at some expression of

his, charged him with saying, “The righteous are oppressed, and the

wicked go unpunished.” Which the Justice interpreting to be a reflection

on the Government, and calling it a high misdemeanour, required sureties

of the good man to answer it at the next Quarter Sessions, and in the

meantime to be bound to his good behaviour. But he, well knowing himself

to be innocent of having broken any law, or done in this matter any evil,

could not answer the Justice’s unjust demand, and therefore was sent

forthwith a prisoner to the county gaol.

By this severity it was thought the Justice designed not only to wreak

his displeasure on this good man, but to prevent the further prosecution

of his appeal; whereby he should at once both oppress the righteous by

the levying of the fines unduly imposed upon him, and secure the

informers from a conviction of wilful perjury and the punishment due

therefor, that so they might go on without control in the wicked work

they were engaged in.

But so great wickedness was not to be suffered to go unpunished, or at

least undiscovered. Wherefore, although no way could be found at present

to get the good man released from his unjust imprisonment, yet that his

restraint might not hinder the prosecution of his appeal, on which the

detection of the informer’s villainy depended, consideration being had

thereof amongst some Friends, the management of the prosecution was

committed to my care, who was thought with respect at least to leisure

and disengagement from other business, most fit to attend it; and very

willingly I undertook it.

Wherefore at the next general Quarter Sessions of the Peace, held at High

Wycombe in October following, I took care that four substantial

witnesses, citizens of unquestionable credit, should come down from

London in a coach and four horses, hired on purpose.

These gave so punctual and full evidence that Thomas Zachary and his wife

were in London all that day whereon the informers had sworn them to have

been at an unlawful meeting, at a place more than twenty miles distant

from London, that notwithstanding what endeavours were used to the

contrary, the jury found them not guilty. Whereupon the money deposited

for the fines at the entering of the appeal ought to have been returned,

and so were ten pounds of it; but the rest of the money being in the hand

of the Clerk of the Peace, whose name was Wells, could never be got out

again.

Thomas Zachary himself was brought from Aylesbury gaol to Wycombe, to

receive his trial, and though no evil could be charged upon him, yet

Justice Clayton, who at first committed him, displeased to see the appeal

prosecuted and the conviction he had made set aside, by importunity

prevailed with the bench to remand him to prison again, there to lie

until another sessions.

While this was doing I got an indictment drawn up against the informers

Aris and Lacy for wilful perjury, and caused it to be delivered to the

grand jury, who found the bill. And although the court adjourned from

the town-hall to the chamber at their inn, in favour as it was thought to

the informers, on supposition we would not pursue them thither, yet

thither they were pursued; and there being two counsel present from

Windsor—(the name of the one was Starky, and of the other, as I remember,

Forster, the former of whom I had before retained upon the trial of the

appeal)—I now retained them both, and sent them into court again, to

prosecute the informers upon this indictment; which they did so smartly

that, the informers being present as not suspecting any such sudden

danger, were of necessity called to the bar and arraigned, and having

pleaded _Not Guilty_, were forced to enter a traverse to avoid a present

commitment: all the favour the court could show them being to take them

bail one for the other, though probably both not worth a groat, else they

must have gone to gaol for want of bail, which would have put them

besides their business, spoiled the informing trade, and broke the

design; whereas now they were turned loose again to do what mischief they

could until the next sessions.

Accordingly, they did what they could, and yet could make little or no

earnings at it; for this little step of prosecution had made them so

known, and their late apparent perjury had made them so detestable, that

even the common sort of bad men shunned them, and would not willingly

yield them any assistance.

The next Quarter Sessions was held at Aylesbury, whither we were fain to

bring down our witnesses again from London, in like manner and at like

charge, at the least, as before. And though I met with great

discouragements in the prosecution, yet I followed it so vigorously that

I got a verdict against the informers for wilful perjury, and had

forthwith taken them up, had not they forthwith fled from justice and hid

themselves. However, I moved by my attorney for an order of court,

directed to all mayors, bailiffs, high constables, petty constables, and

other inferior officers of the peace, to arrest and take them up wherever

they should be found within the county of Bucks, and bring them to the

county gaol.

The report of this so terrified them, that of all things dreading the

misery of lying in a gaol, out of which they could not hope for

deliverance otherwise than by at least the loss of their ears, they,

hopeless now of carrying on their informing trade, disjoined, and one of

them (Aris) fled the country; so that he appeared no more in this

country. The other (Lacy) lurked privily for a while in woods and

bye-places, until hunger and want forced him out; and then casting

himself upon a hazardous adventure, which yet was the best, and proved to

him best course he could have taken, he went directly to the gaol where

he knew the innocent man suffered imprisonment by his means and for his

sake; where asking for and being brought to Thomas Zachary, he cast

himself on his knees at his feet, and with appearance of sorrow

confessing his fault, did so earnestly beg for forgiveness that he

wrought upon the tender nature of that very good man, not only to put him

in hopes of mercy, but to be his advocate by letter to me, to mitigate at

least, if not wholly to remit, the prosecution. To which I so far only

consented as to let him know I would suspend the execution of the warrant

upon him according as he behaved himself, or until he gave fresh

provocation; at which message the fellow was so overjoyed that, relying

with confidence thereon, he returned openly to his family and labour, and

applied himself to business, as his neighbours observed and reported,

with greater diligence and industry than he had ever done before.

Thus began and thus ended the informing trade in these parts of the

county of Bucks; the ill success these first informers found discouraging

all others, how vile soever, from attempting the like enterprise there

ever after. And though it cost some money to carry on the prosecution,

and some pains too, yet for every shilling so spent a pound probably

might be saved of what in all likelihood would have been lost by the

spoil and havoc that might have been made by distresses taken on their

informations.

But so angry was the convicting Justice, whatever others of the same rank

were, at this prosecution, and the loss thereby of the service of those

honest men, the perjured informers—for, as I heard an attorney (one

Hitchcock, of Aylesbury, who was their advocate in court) say, “A great

lord, a peer of the realm, called them so in a letter directed to him;

whereby he recommended to him the care and defence of them and their

cause”—that he prevailed to have the oath of allegiance tendered in court

to Thomas Zachary, which he knew he would not take because he could not

take any oath at all; by which snare he was kept in prison a long time

after, and, so far as I remember, until a general pardon released him.

But though it pleased the Divine Providence, which sometimes vouchsafeth

to bring good out of evil, to put a stop, in a great measure at least, to

the prosecution here begun, yet in other parts, both of the city and

country, it was carried on with very great severity and rigour; the worst

of men for the most part being set up for informers; the worst of

magistrates encouraging and abetting them; and the worst of the priests

who first began to blow the fire, now seeing how it took, spread, and

blazed, clapping their hands, and hallooing them on to this evil work.

The sense whereof, as it deeply affected my heart with a sympathizing

pity for the oppressed sufferers, so it raised in my spirit a holy

disdain and contempt of that spirit and its agent by which this ungodly

work was stirred up and carried on; which at length broke forth in an

expostulatory poem, under the title of “Gigantomachia” (the Wars of the

Giants against Heaven), not without some allusion to the second Psalm;

thus:—

Why do the heathen in a brutish rage,

Themselves against the Lord of Hosts engage?

Why do the frantic people entertain

Their thoughts upon a thing that is so vain?

Why do the kings themselves together set?

And why do all the princes them abet?

Why do the rulers to each other speak

After this foolish manner, “Let us break

Their bonds asunder; come, let us make haste,

With joint consent, their cords from us to cast?”

Why do they thus join hands, and counsel take

Against the Lord’s Anointed? This will make

Him doubtless laugh who doth in heaven sit;

The Lord will have them in contempt for it.

His sore displeasure on them He will wreak,

And in His wrath will He unto them speak.

For on His holy hill of Sion He

His king hath set to reign: sceptres must be

Cast down before Him; diadems must lie

At foot of Him who sits in majesty

Upon His throne of glory; whence He will

Send forth His fiery ministers to kill

All those His enemies who would not be

Subject to His supreme authority.

Where then will ye appear who are so far

From being subjects that ye rebels are

Against His holy government, and strive

Others from their allegiance too to drive?

What earthly prince such an affront would bear

From any of his subjects, should they dare

So to encroach on his prerogative?

Which of them would permit that man to live?

What should it be adjudged but treason? and

Death he must suffer for it out of hand.

And shall the King of kings such treason see

Acted against Him, and the traitors be

Acquitted? No: vengeance is His, and they

That Him provoke shall know He will repay.

And of a truth provoked He hath been

In a high manner by this daring sin

Of usurpation, and of tyranny

Over men’s consciences, which should be free

To serve the living God as He requires,

And as His Holy Spirit them inspires.

For conscience is an inward thing, and none

Can govern that aright but God alone.

Nor can a well-informed conscience lower

Her sails to any temporary power,

Or bow to men’s decrees; for that would be

Treason in a superlative degree;

For God alone can laws to conscience give,

And that’s a badge of His prerogative.

This is the controversy of this day

Between the holy God and sinful clay.

God hath throughout the earth proclaim’d that He

Will over conscience hold the sovereignty,

That He the kingdom to Himself will take,

And in man’s heart His residence will make,

From whence His subjects shall such laws receive

As please His Royal Majesty to give.

Man heeds not this, but most audaciously

Says, “Unto me belongs supremacy;

And all men’s consciences within my land,

Ought to be subject unto my command.”

God by His Holy Spirit doth direct

His people how to worship; and expect

Obedience from them. Man says: “I ordain,

That none shall worship in that way, on pain

Of prison, confiscation, banishment,

Or being to the stake or gallows sent.”

God out of Babylon doth people call,

Commands them to forsake her ways, and all

Her several sorts of worship, to deny

Her whole religion as idolatry.

Will man thus his usurped power forego,

And lose his ill-got government? Oh no:

But out comes his enacted, be it “That all

Who when the organs play will not downfall

Before this golden image, and adore

What I have caused to be set up therefor,

Into the fiery furnace shall be cast,

And be consumed with a flaming blast.

Or in the mildest terms conform, or pay

So much a month or so much every day,

Which we will levy on you by distress,

Sparing nor widow nor the fatherless;

And if you have not what will satisfy,

Ye’re like in prison during life to lie.”

Christ says, swear not; but man says, “Swear [or lie]

In prison, premunired, until you die.”

Man’s ways are, in a word, as opposite

To God’s as midnight darkness is to light;

And yet fond man doth strive with might and main

By penal laws God’s people to constrain

To worship what, when, where, how he thinks fit,

And to whatever he enjoins, submit.

What will the issue of this contest be?

Which must give place—the Lord’s or man’s decree?

Will man be in the day of battle found

Able to keep the field, maintain his ground,

Against the mighty God? No more than can

The lightest chaff before the winnowing fan;

No more than straw could stand before the flame,

Or smallest atoms when a whirlwind came.

The Lord, who in creation only said,

“Let us make man,” and forthwith man was made,

Can in a moment by one blast of breath

Strike all mankind with an eternal death.

How soon can God all man’s devices squash,

And with His iron rod in pieces dash

Him, like a potter’s vessel? None can stand

Against the mighty power of His hand.

Be therefore wise, ye kings, instructed be,

Ye rulers of the earth, and henceforth see

Ye serve the Lord in fear, and stand in awe

Of sinning any more against His law,

His royal law of liberty: to do

To others as you’d have them do to you.

Oh stoop, ye mighty monarchs, and let none

Reject His government, but kiss the Son

While’s wrath is but a little kindled, lest

His anger burn, and you that have transgressed

His law so oft, and would not Him obey,

Eternally should perish from the way—

The way of God’s salvation, where the just

Are blessed who in the Lord do put their trust.

_Felix quem faciunt aliena pericula cautum_.

Happy’s he

Whom others’ harms do wary make to be.

As the unreasonable rage and furious violence of the persecutors had

drawn the former expostulation from me, so in a while after, my heart

being deeply affected with a sense of the great loving-kindness and

tender goodness of the Lord to his people, in bearing up their spirits in

their greatest exercises, and preserving them through the sharpest trials

in a faithful testimony to his blessed truth, and opening in due time a

door of deliverance to them, I could not forbear to celebrate His praises

in the following lines, under the title of—

The History of Thomas Ellwood Written By Himself · 第 20 / 22 题