Fox had many followers,[376] and the character of the master reproduced itself in his disciples. Organization in so large a body soon became a necessity; and, in spite of the extreme spiritualism of the system, the Quakers were consolidated into a sect, having a gradation of ecclesiastical courts, under the name of "meetings," as elaborate as those of completed Presbyterianism, yet vesting all power in the people, and combining liberty with subordination. Some early Quaker preachers vied with Fox in simplicity, earnestness, and courage. Edward Burroughs, a man of great spirituality and power, would step into the wrestlers' ring—as lusty peasants on a summer's evening kept up the ancient sports on the village green—and speak to the rustic spectators with "a heart-piercing power." He thundered against sin—to use the Scripture-coloured language of his admirers, and broke stony hearts; his bow never turned back, and his sword returned not empty from the slaughter of the mighty. "And, although coals of fire, as it were, came forth of his mouth, to the consuming of briars and thorns; and he, passing through unbeaten paths, trampled upon wild thistles and luxuriant tares, yet his wholesome doctrine dropped as the oil of joy upon the spirits of the mourners in Zion."[377] But there were people numbered amongst the Quakers—for the term was widely and vaguely applied—who had not the wisdom and gentleness of Edward Burroughs. One at least of these persons—in imitation of the Oriental method of teaching by signs, as seen in the Hebrew prophets; and also after the manner of the Russian anchorites—went forth in public stripped and naked, making a wailing like the dragons, and a mourning as the owls. George Fox himself says: "the Lord made one to go naked among you, a figure of thy nakedness, and as a sign amongst you, before your destruction cometh, that you might see that you were naked and not covered with the truth."[378] But, notwithstanding he speaks of this singular manifestation in such terms, he is not to be held responsible for the manifestation itself. Nothing of the kind occurred in his own history, nor, as far as we can discover, in that of any distinguished, or of even any recognized member of the Society of Friends in this country.[379]
Fox and Cromwell.
In the "Broadmead Records" strange suspicions about Quakerism are expressed, and tales are told to shew how "the Papists, by their emissaries and agents, did promote this error and delusion." A public declaration of the magistrates of Bristol testified to the same effect.[380] But nothing appears beyond surmises. Some people in those days, like some people still, were wild upon the subject of Romanism, and fancied that they saw the print of the Papacy all over the country.[381] The source of this terror has been already explained; and, looking at what was then attributed to the Roman Catholics, we see that the feeling, under the circumstances, is not wonderful. Impartial historians of the present day, however, will require more than vague rumours, and unsupported accusations, to convince them of the existence of a scheme so subtle and so unreasonable. That Rome could promote its interests through the spread of Quakerism seems an idea even more absurd than the current story of the Queen's Jesuit confessor, plotting the death of Charles, and riding up and down the street before Whitehall upon the day of the monarch's execution with a drawn sword in his hand. How could Franciscans, in the garb of Quakers, fail to be detected by Quakers themselves, who of all sectaries perhaps, most hated Popery? How can the activity of well-known preachers amongst them—who loathed the ritual and the polity of Rome, and who were sincere in following the inward light in opposition to all human authority whatever—be reasonably believed to have received support from Catholic intriguers?[382]
The amount of persecution inflicted upon Quakers by magistrates and by mobs during the Commonwealth is almost incredible. "Fox's Journal" and "Sewel's History" abound in examples of the cruelties which they endured. Cromwell's latter Parliaments disliked Quakers as much as other people did; but Cromwell himself, although disapproving of their disorderly conduct, shewed mercy to the offenders. Treatment such as they generally received reflects, beyond anything else, upon the character of the times for toleration and Christian justice. England at large could not have learned the doctrines of religious liberty, and must have been sadly out of sympathy with Cromwell and others, to have inflicted such wanton barbarities upon people who were harmless as a rule, and mischievous only in a few exceptions. As they quietly worshipped God, parish ministers would rush into their places of meeting—accompanied by people armed with staves, cudgels, pitchforks, "and such like armour"—and interrupt the Quaker preacher more than any Quaker preacher at the very worst had ever interrupted them. Yet, under these circumstances, the poor Quakers disturbed—not the people disturbing—were hustled off to gaol. Katherine Evans, who publicly exhorted the citizens in Salisbury market-place, was whipped for the first offence, and for the second was thrown into the "blind-house," the worst part of the bridewell.[383]
The justices of Exeter, in the month of June, 1656, made an order of sessions to apprehend as vagrants all Quakers travelling without a pass:[384] and the year afterwards a Bill came before Parliament to the same effect, supported by Major-General Desborough, Mr. Bampfield, an Independent, and Sir Christopher Pack, a Presbyterian.[385]
James Nayler.
James Nayler brought much dishonour on the whole sect. The nineteenth century, with all its rationalism, has seen Joanna Southcote, and her numerous disciples. The seventeenth, with all its fanaticism, witnessed, in the greatest enthusiast of the age, less absurdity, and with him a smaller following than we have witnessed even in our own time. Though Nayler was a convert of George Fox, George Fox regarded Nayler with some suspicion, "struck with a fear," as he said, "and being, as it were, under a sense of some great disaster that was like to befal him."[386] Nayler's fall grieved the hearts of his own people, and filled the whole country with exaggerated reports of his shame. While a sufferer in Exeter gaol, his deluded followers addressed him as "the Everlasting Son, the Prince of Peace, the fairest among ten thousand." He fancied himself possessed of the Divine nature in some inexplicable way. Reports were circulated that he pretended to raise to life one Dorcas Erbery two days after her death. Liberated from gaol, he marched through Glastonbury and Wells, men and women walking before him, bareheaded, and strewing the ground with their clothes, in imitation of what was done at Christ's entrance into Jerusalem. At Bristol people shouted as he passed along, "Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of Israel, Hosanna in the highest." In prison he received greetings from fanatics who sung hymns to him, and cried, in Scripture words: "Rise up, my love, my dove, my fair one, and come away: why sittest thou among the pots?" This national scandal, as the Parliament deemed it, could, in their judgment, be washed out only by pains and penalties; a fact which has received attention in our account of the second Protectorate Parliament. Although a fanatic, James Nayler demands justice. It has been rarely meted out to him. His fanaticism was mystical. He had a notion of some extraordinary indwelling of the Spirit within his soul, which he enjoyed, as he supposed, not in consequence of his own superiority, but entirely from abounding grace. Not himself, but the indwelling Lord, he deemed the object of the honours paid—honours, it would appear, volunteered by enthusiasts who were madder than himself. This point is largely noticed in his trial.[387] Things were laid to his charge which he denied, and he distinctly repudiated the pretence of raising the dead. Most important of all is the fact that he repented of his folly, and published a recantation of his errors in several forms.[388]
The Quakers lamented Nayler's madness and backsliding, and they must not be held responsible for his aberrations, although they humanely sympathized with him in his sufferings, which were both unrighteously inflicted, and patiently endured. Nobody now will vindicate the treatment he received; yet few besides members of his own sect condemned it then. To the honour of Lord Fairfax's Presbyterian chaplain, Joshua Sprigg, it should be mentioned that he, with thirty other petitioners, personally sought, at the hands of Parliament, some mitigation of the culprit's doom.[389]
Number of Sects.