A society had been formed in Bristol, called the "Free Society of Traders of Pennsylvania." To them William Penn wrote an account of his province that is now full of interest. Says Dr. Stoughton, "It indicates great power of observation, a wide range of knowledge, much skill in grouping facts, and an unaffected yet vigorous style of description on the part of its author." Besides facts about the natives of the country, he speculates about their origin, and thinks they may be the descendants of the lost ten tribes.
After spending some two years in Pennsylvania and seeing Philadelphia grow until it had 2,500 inhabitants, William Penn returned home in 1684. He had two special reasons for doing so. He had had many disputes with Lord Baltimore, the Roman Catholic proprietor of Maryland, respecting boundaries, and having failed to come to terms, he was applying to the Lords of Plantations to decide the case. Then again the persecution of the Quakers was very bitter, and he hoped he might be able by means of the royal favour to check its severity. He reached home early in October. As to the persecution nothing was done to purpose until James II. ascended the throne, when 1200 Quakers were liberated from prison. But the credit of inclining the royal mind to clemency must not be given to Penn alone. Barclay and George Whitehead had much to do with it (see [sketch of Barclay]).
James at once showed Penn marked favour. He would converse with him whilst peers were kept waiting. He told him frankly "he would deal openly with his subjects. He himself was a Catholic, and he desired no peaceable person to be disturbed on account of his opinions; but ... with the new parliament would rest the power legally to establish liberty of conscience." No way of gaining the king's ear would compare with securing the Friend as advocate. So greatly was he sought that we are told by Gerard Crœse (certainly not a very trustworthy authority) that two hundred applicants sometimes thronged his house at once to secure his interest. We must remember however that Barclay's influence was almost as great. The king was bent on securing the good will of the Quaker leaders. They alone amongst Protestants demanded religious liberty for Catholics; they alone showed them charity. Besides, to shew kindness to the Quakers gave a colour to the king's profession that he was for general toleration, not merely for favour to the Catholics. Whilst James II. was king, therefore, Penn exerted great influence at court. Rightly or wrongly he believed that James and some of his friends, notably the duke of Buckingham, were disposed to labour heartily for liberty of conscience. His friend Barclay had the same confidence as regards the king. It is easy for us to be wise after the event, and to believe that in all this James was scheming for Catholic ascendancy; but that must not prevent our giving Penn credit for good faith. Penn used his utmost influence to strengthen this disposition. In 1686, when on a "religious visit" to Holland, he undertook a commission from the king to the Prince of Orange to induce him to favour a general toleration of religious opinions in England, and the removal of all tests. This commission brought him into collision with Burnett, who was at the same court pleading for toleration but for retaining tests. Their intercourse left such a bitterness in the mind of Burnett that he can never mention Penn but with acrimony.
For this attendance at court he had to pay the penalty of being suspected a Papist. At his very first public discussion with Vincent, the nickname Jesuit had been given him and had stuck to him ever after. The Quakers were many of them branded with the same opprobrious name. In the case of Barclay, there was his early training and boyish conversion to Romanism, and the fact that many of his family were Catholics, to give plausibility to the charge. As to the body at large, "it was believed that the doctrine of the inner light was taught by Jesuit, and that a Franciscan friar had said no churches came so near his own as the Quakers."[11] The Friends could not accept the ordinary teaching of the supremacy of the Bible as a rule of faith, and sometimes on this point their destructive criticism was welcome to Catholics but galling to Protestants. Then they could not take the oath of allegiance and supremacy. So the popular charge was not without some plausible though utterly delusive pretexts.
[11] Penn himself writes "There is a people called 'the silent' or 'people of rest' in Italy, at Naples and at Rome itself, that come near Friends; an inward people from all ceremonies and self-worship, [he means worship unprompted and unaided by the Holy Spirit,] seekers, the Pope and two cardinals favour them. A poor Spanish Friar, called Molino, is the first of them. A thousand in Naples it is thought."—Dr. Stoughton's Life, p. 228.
Now the impression that Penn was a Jesuit at heart, in spite of his Quaker dress and profession, gained ground fast. Tillotson had his fears that the charge was true, and said so; but on Penn assuring him that there was no truth in the charge, he fully and honourably apologised. But for long the suspicion clung to Penn and would not be cast off. That he was determined in all things to keep a clear conscience at all costs is manifest from his conduct in connection with James' efforts to secure Magdalen College, Oxford, for one of his tools. Penn had several times before strained his favour with the king to the last point of endurance, until in one instance the king threatened to turn him out of the room. In this case he wrote a letter so bold and uncompromising as to fill us with amazement. He calls the act one which could not in justice be defended. Such mandates as the king addressed to the fellows he calls a force to conscience and not very agreeable to his other gracious indulgences. Yet because in this matter Penn at first, before he fully understood the case, thought some concessions might be made by the College, Macaulay charges him with simony of the very worst kind. The only other ground for such a charge is the jesting remark of Penn to the deputation that waited on him at Windsor. "If the Bishop of Oxford die, Dr. Hough may be made bishop. What think you of that, gentlemen?" This might have been understood as a hint that, if Dr. Hough would withdraw his opposition, it might be better for him, if it had not been for Dr. Hough's own words. But whatever Penn may have said in jest (possibly not wisely) we should remember that Dr. Hough after the interview thanked God that he did not hint at a compromise.
Penn had already used his influence with the king in favour of John Locke. On his return from Holland, he obtained a pardon for "such exiled Presbyterians as were not guilty of treason." One of these was Sir Robert Stuart, of Coltness, who on returning home found his estates in the hands of James, Earl of Arran. The two friends met in London, and Penn congratulated the restored exile. "Ah! Mr. Penn, Arran has got my estate, and I fear my situation is about to be now worse than ever." "What dost thou say?" exclaimed Penn, "thou surprises and grievest me exceedingly. Come to my house to-morrow, and I will set matters right." Penn at once sought the Earl of Arran. "What is this, friend James, that I hear of thee? Thou hast taken possession of Coltness' estate. Thou knowest that it is not thine." The Earl replied, "That estate I paid a great price for. I received no other reward for my expensive and troublesome embassy to France except this estate, and I am certainly much out of pocket by the bargain." "All very well, friend James, but of this assure thyself, that if thou dost not give this moment an order on thy chamberlain for £100 to Coltness, to carry him down to his native country, and £100 to subsist on till matters are adjusted, I will make it as many thousands out of thy way with the king." The earl complied, and after the Revolution Coltness recovered his estate. The earl had to refund all the rents he had received, less by the £300 he had advanced. This may be justice, but it was carried out in rather high-handed fashion.
At the Yearly Meeting in May, 1687, the Quakers at Penn's instance expressed their gratitude to the king for the declaration of liberty of conscience for England which he had issued in the previous month. Mindful however of the strain of royal power by which the relief was obtained, they inserted in the address this significant clause:—"We hope the good effects thereof for the peace, trade, and prosperity of the Kingdom will produce such a concurrence from the Parliament as may secure it to our posterity in after times." The King in his reply to the deputation who presented the address, said he hoped before he died to settle it so that after ages shall have no reason to alter it.
Events now rapidly developed the Revolution of 1688. Penn had enjoyed the favour of James, and had felt for him some real regard in spite of his faults. So when William became King, his position was difficult in the extreme. He met the danger with characteristic truthfulness and openness. In his maxims, he says, "Nothing needs a trick, but a trick, sincerity loathes one." So he now acted. He avowed his past relations to the dethroned Monarch. He did not pretend to have changed, but he should accept the result of events, and certainly could not conscientiously plot against the Government. He was several times arrested and examined, but his perfect innocence was always clearly established. It might be proved by an intercepted letter that James had written to him, but he answered that he could not prevent that; it did not prove that he had treasonable designs. William, who had been favourably impressed by him at the Hague, believed his assertions.
In 1689, he had the joy of seeing his labours crowned by the passing of the Act of Toleration. For this he had toiled and suffered, written books and held conferences. Now the end was gained, and his friends and other Dissenters might worship God in peace. Yet strange to say, from this time the number of Quakers so far from increasing, diminished. They had thriven in adversity, in prosperity they declined. But probably one great reason was that quietism overspread the Society, and its aggressive efforts languished. Its members continued faithful to their "testimonies," but became sadly careless about the unconverted around them. Their grandest evangelist, Fox, was their strongest bulwark against the quietistic spirit. He not only worked indefatigably himself, but was very successful in stirring up and directing others. In 1690, he was called to his rest. Penn hovered around his dying bed, and when all over, he sent the news to Fox's widow in a letter full of warm sympathy and generous appreciation of his leader, or "honourable elder," as Friends preferred to call him. In spite of Fox's very noticeable imperfections, none could appreciate better than Penn his many excellencies and his energetic and noble-spirited labours. Only a few weeks before, Robert Barclay was laid to rest in his own grounds at Ury. As a gentleman and a scholar, no doubt there were points of sympathy between him and Penn which did not link Fox and Penn. But in aggressive energy, in evangelistic labours, and in entire freedom from the taint of quietism, Fox was much more after Penn's own heart than was Barclay. He edited Fox's journal and Barclay's works, supplying each with an elaborate preface.