"Yes, I doubt not that, dear child; but people have talked and talked about their conscience until it has come to mean little or nothing to them, and God seeing this, hath sent His messenger, George Fox, to declare once more to His people, that He hath not left them alone, but speaks to the heart of each by His own still small voice. As Quakers we prefer to call things plainly, for we are a plain people, and so have thrown away that word 'conscience' as a worn-out and broken mirror that does but hide instead of revealing more plainly the truth it covers. Therefore, we say 'the voice of God' will guide us in all things if we will but listen, and as little children obey it, even though it should sometimes bid us to walk in a path that is not pleasant to our feet."
"And is it this that makes thee so happy, aunt?" asked Audrey.
The simple form of 'thee' and 'thou' was still in vogue among close friends, and so Audrey's use of it was not at all singular. The exclusive use of it by Quakers later on was a survival of this feeling that there was a closeness of friendship, a sincerity in these terms, and so they rescued from oblivion this simple form of speech that prevailed among all classes in England at that time. The same may be said of their dress. They did but seek to evade observation at the time of which we write, and desiring to be known only as a plain God-fearing people. They dressed in simple, unostentatious colours; but they have brought up through the generations the fashion of the garments worn by their forefathers, and held to them while other and very different fashions prevailed in the world.
So at this time, although Dame Drayton was a professed Quaker, there was little to distinguish her from her neighbours around, in the matter of dress and speech. The Society impressed upon its members the duty of dressing plainly and simply, whatever their rank in life might be, and that Dame Drayton chose to wear greys and drabs in the place of crimsons or other brilliant colours was regarded as a simple matter of taste by her neighbours. She had always been known as a godly woman before she became a Quaker; but as she had never felt called to preach, and went as often to the old parish church she had attended from her girlhood, as she did to the Quaker meeting-house in Gracechurch Street, few knew that she was a Quaker.
As Audrey asked her question, she looked earnestly into her aunt's face and nestled closer to her. "You seem very happy," she added; "so much happier than my mother."
"Dear Audrey, I am very happy, for since I learned this truth from George Fox, there hath come to me a peace that passeth all understanding; for, following the guidance of this voice, the distractions of the world cannot mar the quiet resting upon God, as my Father, my Guide, my Friend, who will never fail nor forsake me. It matters not whether thou art one who worships in a church or in a meeting-house,—which is but a plain room fitted for a plain people who meet together,—if haply the Spirit hath a word to speak by one of them for the edification of all; and if there is no such word given forth, still the Lord can and doth speak to each soul in the silence that to many is better and more helpful even than the words of prayer spoken by another, who cannot know the secret wants and longings of any soul but his own."
"Then at these meetings there is silence all the time, aunt?" said Audrey questioningly.
"Why should any speak if they feel not moved thereto by the inward voice of the Spirit?" asked Dame Drayton. "It is this multiplying of words without life or power that hath made preaching of none effect. Now we know that when one speaketh he is moved thereto by the Spirit of God working in him, and that he hath of a surety a message for one or other or many of us. In some this power of the Spirit to speak and warn and encourage is continually seeking to find utterance, and then woe be to the man if he forbear to utter his testimony for fear of what man shall do to him. Bessie's father was such an one as this, and a brave honest man to boot; so, as he would not be stayed from warning sinners to flee from the wrath to come, whenever and wherever he could find opportunity, the soldiers have haled him to prison, and his wife too, because she felt moved to warn her godless neighbours, when her husband could no longer do so. Bessie being the eldest was left in the cottage to take care of the children, or do as she could, for none cared to befriend them, as they were children of condemned Quakers. They had been despoiled of all they possessed in fines for the same offence; but the little they had left in the cottage was stolen or destroyed by the mob, while Bessie and her sisters hid themselves in the cellar."
"Oh, aunt, would people really be so cruel?" said Audrey in a tone of compassion, as she turned to look at the girl walking up and down with the little ones, but rarely touching the ball herself even when it fell close to her.
"I daresay there were some who felt sorry for them, and would nathless have helped them if they could; but the baser sort, and those whom Friend Westland had reproved for their sin and wickedness, would be willing to break chairs and tables while they shouted, 'Long live King Charles! Down with all Quakers and rebels!' That was how it was done, Bessie says, while she sat cowering in the cellar below, praying that God would keep them from following her, for fear they should frighten the little ones to death."