A Book of Quaker Saints

by L. V. Hodgkin

These great people, not wishing it to be known that they came to listen to the Quaker preacher, were hidden away behind a ceiling. Nayler himself must have known of their presence, since he mentions it in a letter, though he does not explain how a ceiling could be a hiding-place. He spoke to them afterwards of the Voice that had called him as he was ploughing in the fields at home. These fine lords and ladies could not understand what he meant. 'A Voice, a Voice?' they asked him, 'but did you really hear it?' 'Aye, verily, I did hear it,' he replied in such solemn tones that they wondered more than ever what he meant; and perhaps they began to listen too for the Inner Voice.

The discovery that he, a humble Quaker preacher, could attract all this attention did James Nayler harm. Instead of remembering only the thankfulness and joy of being entrusted with his Master's message, he allowed small, lower feelings to creep into his heart: 'What a good messenger I am! Don't I preach well? Far grander people throng to hear me than to any other Quaker minister's sermons!'

Another temptation came to him through his good looks. He was evidently getting to think altogether too much about himself. It was James Nayler this and James Nayler that, far too much about James Nayler. Also, some of his friends were foolish, and did not help him. The interesting thing about James Nayler is that his chief temptations always came to him through his good qualities. If he had been a little duller, or a little uglier, or a little stupider, if he had even made fewer friends, he might have walked safely all his life. As it was, instead of listening only to the Voice of God, he allowed himself to listen to one of the most dangerous suggestions of the Tempter. Nayler began to think that he might imitate Jesus Christ not only in inner ways, not only by trying to be meek and loving and gentle and self-sacrificing, as He was to all the people around Him. That is the way we may all try to be like Him. Nayler also tried to imitate Him in outer ways. He found a portrait of the Saviour and noticed how He was supposed to have worn His hair and beard; and then he arranged his own hair and beard in the same way. He even attempted to work miracles like those in the Gospel story. He tried to fast as Christ had done, 'He ate no bread but one little bit for a whole month, and there was about a fortnight ... he took no manner of food, but some days a pint of white wine, and some days a gill mingled with water.' This was when he was imprisoned in Exeter Gaol with many other Quakers. One woman among them fainted and became unconscious, and she believed she had been brought back to life by Nayler's laying his hand on her head and saying, 'Dorcas, arise.'

Some of his friends and the other women in the prison were foolish and silly. Instead of helping Nayler to serve God in lowliness and humility, they flattered his vanity, and encouraged him to become yet more vain and presumptuous. They even knelt before him in the prison, bowing and singing, 'Holy, holy, holy.' Some one wrote him a wicked letter saying, 'Thy name shall be no more James Nayler, but Jesus'!

Nayler confessed afterwards that 'a fear struck him' when he received that letter. He put it in his pocket, meaning that no one should see it. But though Nayler did not himself encourage his friends in their wicked folly, still he did not check them as he should have done. He thought that he was meant to be a 'sign of Christ' for the world. He was weak in health at the time, and had suffered much from imprisonment and long fasting; so it can be said in excuse that his mind may have been clouded, and that perhaps he did not altogether understand what was being done.

The real sadness of this story is that we cannot excuse him altogether. Some of the blame for the silly and foolish and wicked things that were done around him does, and must, belong to him too. He ought to have known and to have forbidden it all from the beginning. George Fox and the other steady Friends of course did not approve of these wild doings of James Nayler and his friends. George Fox came to see James Nayler in prison at Exeter, and reproved him for his errors. James Nayler was proud and would not listen to rebukes, though he offered to kiss George Fox at parting. But Fox, who was 'stiff as a tree and pure as a bell,' would not kiss any man, however much he loved him, who persisted in such wrong notions. The two friends parted very sorrowfully, and with a sad heart Fox returned to the inn on Exeter Bridge. Not all the 'Seven Stars' on its signboard could shine through this cloud.

After this, things grew worse. Nayler persisted in his idea that he was meant, in his own life, and in his own body, to imitate Jesus Christ outwardly, and the women persisted in their wild acting round him. When Nayler and his admirers came to Bristol, in October 1656, they arranged a sort of play scene, to make it like the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. One man, bareheaded, led Nayler's horse, and the women spread scarves and handkerchiefs in the way before him, as they had no palms. They even shouted 'Hosanna!' and other songs and hymns that they had no business to sing except in the worship of God.

They meant it to be all very brilliant and triumphant. But it was really a miserable sort of affair, for the rain came down heavily, and the roads were muddy and dirty, which made the whole company wet and draggled. Still it was not the rain that mattered,—what mattered most was that none of them can have had the sunshine of peace in their hearts, for they must have known that they were doing wrong.

Anyhow the magistrates of the city of Bristol had no manner of doubt about that. As soon as the foolish, dishevelled, excited company reached the city they were all clapped into gaol, which was perhaps the best place to sober their excited spirits. The officers of the law were thoroughly well pleased. They had said from the first that George Fox was a most dangerous man, and that the Quakers were a misguided people to follow him. Now the folly and wickedness of Nayler and his company gave them just the excuse they were wanting to prove that they had been right all along.

James Nayler was taken to London, tried, found guilty, and sentenced to savage punishments. He was examined at length by a Committee of Parliament. Just before his sentence was pronounced he said that he 'did not know his offence,' which looks as if his mind really had been clouded over when some of the things he was accused of were done. But this was not allowed to be any excuse. 'You shall know your offence by your punishment' was the only answer he received. The members of Oliver Cromwell's second Parliament who dealt with Nayler's case were not likely to be lenient to any man, who, like Nayler, had done wrong and allowed himself to be led astray. His Commonwealth judges showed him no mercy indeed. When Nayler heard his terrible sentence, he listened calmly, and said, 'God has given me a body: God will, I hope, give me a spirit to endure it. I pray God He may not lay it to your charge.' This shows that he had learned really to share his Master's Spirit, which is the only true way of imitating Him.