you know I will not be taught by you. As you please for that sir,' said the constable, but I am sure you are mistaken in this point; for Saturday, I know, is the seventh-day, and you know yesterday was Saturday.' This made the warden hot and testy, and put him almost out of all patience, so that I feared it would have come to a downright quarrel betwixt them-for both were confident, and neither would yield. And so earnestly were they engaged in the contest, that there was no room for me to put in a word between them. At length the old man, having talked himself out of wind, stood still a while as it were to take breath, and then bethinking himself of me, he turned to me and said, You are discharged, and may take your liberty to go about your occasions.' But, said I, I desire my horse may be discharged too, else I know not how to go. 'Ay, ay,' said he, you shall have your horse; and turning to the other constable who had not offended him, he said, Go see that his horse be delivered to him.' Away thereupon went I with that constable, leaving the old warden and the young constable to compose their difference as they could. Being come to the inn, the constable called for my horse to be brought out. Which done, I immediately mounted and began to set forward. But the hostler, not knowing the condition of my pocket, said modestly to me, Sir, don't you forget to pay for your horse's standing? No truly, said I, I don't forget it, but I have no money to pay it with, and so I told the warden before. Well, hold your tongue,' said the constable to the hostler, I'll see you paid.' Then opening the gate they let me out, the constable wishing me a good journey, and through the town I rode without further molestation; though it was as much sabbath, I thought, when I went out, as it was when I came in. · seemed to be of some value. I alighted and took it up, and clapping it between my thigh and the saddle, rode on a little way; but I quickly found it too heavy for me, and the reprover in me soon began to check. The word arose in me, What hast thou to do with that? Doth it belong to thee?' I felt I had done amiss in taking it; wherefore, I turned back to the place where it lay, and laid it down where I found it. And when afterwards I was stopped and seized on at Maidenhead, I saw there was a providence in not bringing it with me; which, if it should have been found, as it needs must, under my coat when I came to be unhorsed, might have raised some evil suspicion or sinister thoughts concerning me. The stop I met with at Maidenhead had spent so much time, that when I came to Isaac Penington's, the meeting there was half over, which gave them occasion, after meeting, to inquire of me if any thing had befallen me on the way, which had caused me to come so late? Whereupon I related to them what exercise I had met with, and how the Lord had helped me through it; which when they had heard they rejoiced with me, and for my sake. Great was the love and manifold the kindnesses which I received from these my worthy friends, Isaac and Mary Penington, while I abode in their family; they were indeed as affectionate parents and tender nurses to me, in this time of my religious childhood. For besides their weighty and seasonable counsels, and exemplary conversations, they furnished me with means to go to the other meetings of Friends in that county, when the meeting was not in their own house. And, indeed, the time I staid with them was so well spent, that it not only yielded great satisfaction to my mind, but turned, in good measure, to my spiritual advantage in the Truth. But that I might not, on the one hand, bear too hard upon my friends; nor on the other hand forget the house of thraldom-after I had staid with them some six or seven weeks, from the time called Easter to the time called Whitsuntide, I took my leave of them to de A secret joy arose in me as I rode on the way, that I had been preserved from doing or saying any thing, which might give the adversaries of Truth advantage against it or the friends of it; and praises sprang in my thank-part home, intending to walk to Wiccomb in ful heart to the Lord my preserver. It added also not a little to my joy that I felt the Lord near to me, by his witness in my heart, to check and warn me; and my spirit was so far subjected to him, as readily to take warning, and to stop at his check; an instance of both which I had that very morning. For as I rode between Reading and Maidenhead, I saw lying in my way the scabbard of a hanger, which, having lost its hook, had slipped off, I suppose, and dropped from the side of the wearer; and it had in it a pair of knives, whose hafts being inlaid with silver, one day, and from thence home in another. That day that I came home I did not see my father, nor until noon the next day, when I went into the parlour where he was, to take my usual place at dinner. As soon as I came in, I observed by my father's countenance, that my hat was still an offence to him; but when I was sat down, and before I had eaten any thing, he made me understand it more fully, by saying to me, but in a milder tone than he had formerly used to speak to me in, 'If you cannot content yourself to come to dinner without your hive on your head, (so he called my hat) pray rise, and go take your dinner somewhere else.' came to feel the operation of his power in my heart, working out that which was contrary to his will, and giving me, in measure, dominion over it. As my spirit was kept in due subjection to this divine power, I grew into a nearer ac Upon these words I arose from the table, and leaving the room, went into the kitchen, where I staid till the servants went to dinner, and then sat down very contentedly with them. Yet I suppose my father might intend quaintance with the Lord; and he vouchsafed that I should have gone into some other room, and there have eaten by myself. But I chose rather to eat with the servants; and did so from thenceforward, so long as he and I lived together. And from this time he rather chose, as I thought, to avoid seeing me, than to renew the quarrel about my hat. My sisters, meanwhile observing my wariness in words and behaviour, and being satisfied, I suppose, that I acted upon a principle of religion and conscience, carried themselves very kindly to me, and did what they could to mitigate my father's displeasure against me. So that I now enjoyed much more quiet at home, and took more liberty to go abroad amongst my friends, than I had done, or could do before; and having informed myself where any meetings of Friends were holden, within a reasonable distance from me, I resorted to them. At first I went to a town called Haddenham, in Buckinghamshire, five miles from my father's, where, at the house of one Belson, a few who were called Quakers did meet sometimes on a first-day of the week; but I found little satisfaction there. Afterwards, upon further inquiry, I understood there was a set tled meeting at a little village called Meadle, about four long miles from me, in the house of one John White, which is continued there still; and to that thenceforward I constantly went, while I abode in that country and was able. Many a sore day's travel have I had thither and back again; being commonly in the winter time, how fair soever the weather was overhead, wet up to the ankles at least; yet through the goodness of the Lord to me I was preserved in health. A little meeting also there was, on the fourth-day of the week, at a town called Bledlow, two miles from me, in the house of one Thomas Saunders, who professed the Truth; but his wife, whose name was Damaris, did possess it, being a woman of great sincerity and lively sense, and to that meeting also I usually went. But though I took this liberty for the service of God, that I might worship him in the assemblies of His people, yet did I not use it upon other occasions; but spent my time on other days for the most part in my chamber, in retiredness of mind, waiting on the Lord. And the Lord was graciously pleased to visit me by his quickening spirit and life, so that I to speak to me in the inward of my soul, and to open my understanding in his fear, to receive counsel from him; so that I not only at some times heard his voice, but could distinguish it from the voice of the enemy. As thus I daily waited on the Lord, a weighty and unusual exercise came upon me, which bowed my spirit very low before the Lord. I had seen, in the light of the Lord, the horrible guilt of those deceitful priests of divers sorts and denominations, who made a trade of preaching, and for filthy lucre-sake held the people always learning; yet so taught them, as that, by their teaching and ministry, they were never able to come to the know. ledge, much less to the acknowledgment of the truth; for as they themselves hated the light, because their own deeds were evil, so by reviling, reproaching and blaspheming the true light, wherewith every man that cometh into the world is enlightened, John i. 9., they begat in the people a disesteem of the light; and laboured, as much as in them lay, to keep their hearers in darkness, that they might not be turned to the light in themselves, lest by the light they should discover the wickedness of these their deceitful teachers, and turn from them. Against this practice of these false teachers, the zeal of the Lord had flamed in my breast for some time; and now the burden of the word of the Lord against them, fell heavy upon me, with command to proclaim his controversy against them. Fain would I have been excused from this service, which I judged too heavy for me; wherefore, I besought the Lord to take this weight from off me, who was in every respect but young, and lay it upon some other of his servants, of whom he had many, who were much more able and fit for it. But the Lord would not be entreated, but continued the burden upon me with greater weight; requiring obedience from me, and promising to assist me therein. Whereupon I arose from my bed, and in the fear and dread of the Lord, committed to writing what he, in the motion of his divine Spirit, dictated to me to write. When I had done it, though the sharpness of the message therein delivered was hard to my nature to be the publisher of; yet I found acceptance with the Lord in my obedience to his will, and his peace filled my heart. As soon as I could, I communicated to my friends what I had written; and it was printed in the year 1660, in one sheet of paper, under the title of "An alarm to the Priests; or a message from Heaven to forewarn them, &c." place in the town where I lived, for a meeting to be held, and to invite my neighbours to it, if he could give me any ground to expect his company at it. He told me, he was not at his own command, but at the Lord's; and he knew not how he might dispose of him; but Some time after the publishing of this paper, having occasion to go to London, I went to visit George Fox the younger, who with ano-wished me, if I found when I was come home, ther Friend, was then a prisoner in a messenger's hands. I had never seen him, nor he me before; yet this paper lying on the table before him, he pointing to it, asked me if I was the person that wrote it. I told him I was. It is much,' said the other Friend, 'that they bear it.' 'It is,' replied he, 'their portion-and they must bear it.' While I was then in London, I went to a little meeting of Friends, which was then held in the house of one Humphrey Bache, a goldsmith, at the sign of the snail in Tower street. It was then a very troublesome time, not from the government, but from the rabble of boys and rude people, who upon the turn of the times, at the return of the king, took liberty to be very abusive. that the thing continued with weight upon my mind, and that I could get a fit place for a meeting, I would advertise him of it by a few lines, directed to him in Oxford, whither he was then going, and he might then let me know how his freedom stood in that matter. When, therefore, I was come home, and had treated with a neighbour for a place to have a meeting in, I wrote to my friend Thomas Loe, to acquaint him that I had procured a place for a meeting, and would invite company to it, if he would fix the time and give me some ground to hope that he would be at it. This letter I sent by a neighbour to Thame, to be given to a dyer of Oxford, who constantly kept Thame market, with whom I was pretty well acquainted, having sometimes formerly used him, not only in his way of trade, but to carry letters between my brother and me, when he was a student in that university, for which he was always paid; and had been so careful in the delivery, that our letters had always gone safe until now. But this time, Providence so ordering, or at least for my trial permitting it, this letter of mine, instead of being delivered according to its direction, was seized and carried, as I was told, to the lord Faulkland, who was then called lord lieutenant of that county. When the meeting ended, a pretty number of these unruly folk were got together at the door, ready to receive the Friends as they came forth, not only with evil words, but with blows; which I saw they bestowed freely on some of them who were gone out before me, and I expected I should have my share when I came amongst them. But quite contrary to my expectation,—when I came out, they said one to another, 'Let him alone; don't meddle with him; he is no Quaker, I'll warrant you.' This struck me, and was worse to me than if they had laid their fists on me, as they did on others. I was troubled to think what the The occasion of this stopping of letters at matter was, or what these rude people saw in that time, was that mad prank of those infame, that made them not take me for a Quaker.tuated 'fifth-monarchy-men,' who from their And upon a close examination of myself, with respect to my habit and deportment, I could not find any thing to place it on, but that I had then on my head a large mountier-cap of black velvet, the skirt of which being turned up in folds, looked, it seems, somewhat above the then common garb of a Quaker; and this put me out of conceit with my cap. I came at this time to London from Isaac Penington's, and thither I went again in my way home; and while I staid there, amongst other Friends who came thither, Thomas Loe of Oxford was one. A faithful and diligent labourer he was in the work of the Lord, and an excellent ministerial gift he had. In my zeal for truth, being very desirous that my neighbours might have the opportunity of hearing the gospel, the glad tidings of salvation, livingly and powerfully preached among them, I entered into communication with him about it; offering to procure some convenient meeting-house in Coleman street, London, breaking forth in arms, under the command of their chieftain Venner, made an insurrection in the city, on pretence of setting up the kingdom of Jesus; who it is said, they expected would come down from heaven to be their leader. So little understood they the nature of his kingdom; though he himself had declared, "it was not of this world." The king, (Charles II.) a little before his arrival in England, had, by his declaration from Breda, given assurance of liberty to tender consciences; and that no man should be disquieted, or called in question for difference of opinion in matters of religion, who did not disturb the peace of the kingdom. Upon this assurance dissenters of all sorts relied, and held themselves secure. But now, by this frantic action of a few hot-brained men, the king was, by some, holden dicharged from this his royal word and promise, in his foregoing declaration publicly given. And would be very unsuitable for me, and which hereupon letters were intercepted and broken he was very unwilling to do. She thereupon open, for the discovery of suspected plots and ordered a horse to be got ready, upon which, designs against the government; and not only when I had taken leave of my sisters, I dissenters' meetings, of all sorts without dis-mounted and went off, not knowing whither tinction were disturbed, but very many were he intended to carry me. imprisoned in most parts throughout the nation; and great search there was, in all counties, for suspected persons, who, if not found at meetings, were fetched in from their own houses. The lord-lieutenant, so called, of Oxfordshire, had on this occasion taken Thomas Loe, and many other of our Friends, at a meeting and sent them prisoners to Oxford castle, just before my letter was brought to his hand, wherein I had invited Thomas Loe to a meeting; and he putting the worst construction upon it, as if I, a poor simple lad, had intended a seditious meeting, in order to raise rebellion, ordered two of the deputylieutenants who lived nearest to me, to send a party of horse to fetch me in. Accordingly, while I, wholly ignorant of what had passed at Oxford, was in daily expectation of an agreeable answer to my letter, came a party of horse one morning to my father's gate, and asked for me. me. He had orders, it seems to take some others also in a neighbouring village, whose names he had, but their houses he did not know. Wherefore, as we rode, he asked me, if I knew such and such men, whom he named, and where they lived; and when he understood that I knew them, he desired me to show him their houses. No, said I, I scorn to be an informer against my neighbours, to bring them into trouble. He thereupon riding to and fro, found by inquiry most of their houses; but, as it happened, found none of them at home, at which I was glad. At length he brought me to the house of one called Esquire Clark, of Weston by Thame, who being afterwards knighted, was called Sir John Clark; a jolly man, too much addicted to drinking in soberer times, but was now grown more licentious that way, as the times did now more favour debauchery. He and I had known one another for some years, though not very intimately, having met sometimes at the lord Wenman's table. This Clark was one of the deputy-lieutenants, whom I was to be brought before. And he had got another to join with him in tendering me the oaths, whom I knew only by name and character; he was called Esquire Knowls of Grays, by Henley, and reputed a man of better morals than the other. It so fell out, that my father was at that time from home, I think in London; whereupon he that commanded the party alighted, and came in. My eldest sister, hearing the noise of soldiers, came hastily up into my chamber, and told me there were soldiers below who inquired for me. I forthwith went down to them, and found the commander was a barber of Thame, and one who had always I was brought into the hall, and kept there. been my barber till I was a Quaker. His And as Quakers were not so common then, name was Whatley, a bold brisk fellow. as they now are, and indeed even yet, the I asked him what his business was with more is the pity, they are not common in that He told me I must go with him. I de- part of the country-I was made a spectacle manded to see his warrant. He laid his hand and gazing-stock to the family, and by divers on his sword and said that was his warrant. I was diversely set upon. Some spake to me I told him, though that was not a legal war- | courteously, with appearance of compassion; rant, yet I would not dispute it--but was others ruggedly, with evident tokens of wrath ready to bear injuries. He told me he could and scorn. But though I gave them the hearnot help it; he was commanded to bring me ing of what they said, which I could not well forthwith before the deputy-lieutenants; and avoid, yet I said little to them; but keeping therefore desired me to order a horse to be got my mind as well retired as I could, I breathed ready, because he was in haste. I let him know I had no horse of my own, and would not meddle with any of my father's horses, in his absence especially; and that therefore, if he would have me with him, he must carry me as he could. He thereupon taking my sister aside, told her he found I was resolute, and his orders were preremptory; wherefore he desired that she would give order for a horse to be made ready for me; for otherwise he should be forced to mount me behind a trooper, which to the Lord for help and strength from him, to bear me up and carry me through this trial, that I might not sink under it, or be prevailed on by any means, fair or foul, to do any thing that might dishonour or displease my God. At length came forth the justices themselves, for so they were, as well as lieutenants; and after they had saluted me, they discoursed with me pretty familiarly. And though Clark would sometimes be a little jocular and waggish, which was somewhat natural to him, yet Knowls treated me very civilly, not seeming to take any offence at my not standing bare before him. And when a young priest, who, as I understood, was chaplain in the family, took upon him pragmatically to reprove me for standing with my hat on before the magistrates, and snatched my cap from off my head, Knowls in a pleasant manner corrected him, telling him he mistook himself, in taking a cap for a hat, for mine was a mountier-cap, and bid him give it me again; which he, though unwillingly doing, I forthwith put it on my head again, and thenceforward none meddled with me about it. Then they began to examine me, putting divers questions to me relating to the present disturbances in the nation, occasioned by the late foolish insurrection of those frantic fifthmonarchy-men. To all which I readily answered, according to the simplicity of my heart and innocency of my hands; for I had neither done nor thought any evil against the government. But they endeavoured to affright me with threats of danger; telling me that for all my pretence of innocency, there was high matter against me, which if I would stand out, would be brought forth, and that from under my own hand. I knew not what they meant by this; but I knew my innocency, and kept to it. At length when they saw I regarded not their threats in general, they asked me if I knew one Thomas Loe, and had written of late to him. I then remembered my letter, which till then I had not thought of, and thereupon frankly told them, that I did both know Thomas Loe, and had lately written to him; but that as I knew I had written no hurt, so I did not fear any danger from that letter. They shook their heads and said it was dangerous to write letters to appoint meetings in such troublesome times. They added, that by appointing a meeting, and endeavouring to gather a concourse of people together, in such a juncture especially as this was, I had rendered myself a dangerous person. And therefore, they could do no less than tender me the oaths of allegiance and supremacy; which therefore they required me to take. I told them, if I could take any oath at all, I would take the oath of allegiance; for I owed allegiance to the king. But I durst not take any oath, because my Lord and master Jesus Christ, had commanded me not to swear at all; and if I break his command, I should thereby both dishonour and displease him. Hereupon they undertook to reason with me, and used many words to persuade me that that command of Christ related only to comVOL. VII.-No. 10. mon and profane swearing-not to swearing before a magistrate. I heard them and saw the weakness of their arguings, but did not return them any answer; for I found my present business was not to dispute, but to suffer; and that it was not safe for me, in this my weak and childish state especially, to enter into reasonings with sharp, quick, witty and learned men, lest I might thereby hurt both the cause of Truth, which I was to bear witness to, and myself. Therefore I chose rather to be a fool, and let them triumph over me, than by my weakness give them advantage to triumph over the Truth. And my spirit being closely exercised in a deep travail towards the Lord, I earnestly begged of him, that he would be pleased to keep me faithful to the testimony he had committed to me, and not suffer me to be taken in any of the snares which the enemy laid for me. And, blessed be his holy name, he heard my cries, and preserved me out of them. When the justices saw they could not bow me to their wills, they told me they must send me to prison. I told them I was contented to suffer whatsoever the Lord should permit them to inflict upon me. Whereupon they withdrew into the parlour, to consult together what to do with me; leaving me meanwhile to be gazed on in the hall. After a pretty long stay, they came forth to me again with a great show of kindness, telling me they were very unwilling to send me to gaol, but would be as favourable to me as possibly they could; and that, if I would take the oaths, they would pass by all the other matter which they had against me. I told them, I knew they could not justly have any thing against me, for I had neither done, nor intended any thing against the government, or against them. And as to the oaths, I assured them, that my refusing them was merely matter of conscience to me, and that I durst not take any oath whatsoever, if it were to save my life. When they heard this they left me again, and went and signed a mittimus to send me to prison at Oxford, and charged one of the troopers that brought me thither, who was one of the newly-raised militia troops, to convey me safely to Oxford. But before we departed they called the trooper aside and gave him private instructions what he should do with me; which I knew nothing of till I came thither, but expected I should go directly to the castle. It was almost dark when we took horse, and we had about nine or ten miles to ride; the weather was thick and cold, for it was about the beginning of the twelfth month, and I had no boots, being snatched away from home on 47 |