Another time there came to him a great physician, called Dr. Witty, being accompanied with the lord Falconbridge, the governor of Tinmouth Castle, and several knights. G. Fox being called to them, this doctor undertook to discourse with him, and asked, what he was in prison for? G. Fox told him, because he would not disobey the command of Christ, and swear. To which the doctor said, he ought to swear his allegiance to the king. Now G. Fox knowing him to be a great Presbyterian, asked him, whether he had not sworn against the king and the house of lords, and taken the Scotch covenant; and whether he had not since sworn to the king. The doctor having no ready answer to this, G. Fox asked him, what then was his swearing good for: telling him further, ‘My allegiance doth not consist in swearing, but in truth and faithfulness.’ After some further discourse, G. Fox was led away to his prison again; and afterwards the doctor boasted, that he had conquered G. Fox; which he having heard, told the governor, it was a small boast in him to say he had conquered a bondman.
A while after, this doctor came again, having many great persons with him, and he affirmed before them all, that Christ had not enlightened every man that cometh into the world; that the grace of God, which brought salvation, had not appeared unto all men; and that Christ had not died for all men. G. Fox asked him, what sort of men those were, which Christ had not enlightened; and whom his grace had not appeared unto. To which the doctor answered, ‘Christ did not die for adulterers, and idolators, and wicked men.’ Then G. Fox asked him, whether adulterers and wicked men were not sinners; and he said, ‘Yes.’ Which made G. Fox say, ‘And did not Christ die for sinners? Did he not come to call sinners to repentance?’ ‘Yes,’ said the doctor. ‘Then,’ replied G. Fox, ‘thou hast stopped thy own mouth.’ And so he proved, that the grace of God had appeared to all men, though some turned it into wantonness, and walked despitefully against it; and that Christ had enlightened all men, though some hated the light. Several of those that were present confessed it was true; but the doctor went away in a rage, and came no more to him.
Another time the governor came to him, with two or three parliament-men, and they asked him, whether he owned ministers and bishops; to which he said, ‘Yes, such as Christ sent forth; such as had freely received, and would freely give; and such as were qualified, and were in the same power and spirit that they were in, in the apostles’ days. But such bishops and teachers as yours are, that will go no further than they have a great benefice, I do not own; for they are not like the apostles: for Christ saith to his ministers, “Go ye into all nations and preach the gospel.” But ye parliament-men, that keep your priests and bishops in such great fat benefices, ye have spoiled them all: for do you think they will go into all nations to preach, or will go any further than they have great fat benefices? Judge yourselves, whether they will or no.’ To this they could say little, and whatever was objected to G. Fox, he always had an answer in readiness; and because sometimes it was simple and plain, his enemies from thence took occasion to say, that he was a fool. But whatever such said, it is certain that he had a good understanding, though he was not educated in human learning. This I know by my own experience, for I have had familiar conversation with him.
In this his prison he was much visited, even by people of note. General Fairfax’s widow came once to him with a great company, one of which was a priest, who began to quarrel with him, because speaking to one person, he said thou and thee, and not you; and those that spoke so, the priest said, he counted but fools. Which made G. Fox ask him, whether they, that translated the Scriptures, and that made the grammar and accidence, were fools; seeing they translated the Scriptures so, and made the grammar so, thou to one, and you to more than one. With these and other reasons he soon silenced the priest; and several of the company acknowledged the truth he declared to them, and were loving to him; and some of them would have given him money, but he would not receive it.
Whilst I leave him yet prisoner, I will go to other matters, and relate the remarkable case of one William Dundas, who being a man of some repute in Scotland, came over to the communion of those called Quakers, in a singular manner. He was a man of a strict life, and observed the ecclesiastical institutions there as diligently as any of the most precise; but in time he saw, that bodily exercise profited little, and that it was true godliness which the Lord required from man. In this state, becoming more circumspect than he was accustomed to be, he did not frequent the public assemblies so much as formerly. But this was soon taken notice of, and being asked the reason why, he said, that there was a thing beyond that, which he looked for. But it was told him, this was a dangerous principle. To which Dundas replied, that he was not to receive the law from the mouth of man. Then the minister, so called, said to him, that he tempted God. To which Dundas returned, that God could not be tempted to evil. Now that which made him more averse to the priests of that nation, was to see their domineering pride: and how they forced some that were not one with them, in their principles, to comply with their institutions, sprinkling the children of parents even without their consent. Add to this, their going from one benefice to another, being always ready to go over from a small church to a great one, under pretence of more service for the church; whereas it plainly appeared, that selfish interest generally was the main cause. This behaviour of the clergy, and their rigid persecution, if any deviated a little from the church ceremonies and the common form, turned Dundas’s affection from them. An instance of this rigidness was, that one Wood, who had some charge in the custom-house of Leith, and approved in some respect the doctrine of those called Quakers, had said, that Christ was the word, and that the letter was not the word. For this he was cited before the ecclesiastical assembly of Lothian, where Dundas was present; and Wood so well defended his saying, that none were able to overthrow his arguments; chiefly drawn from these words of John, “That the word was made flesh, and dwelt among us.” Wood continuing to maintain his assertion, they began to threaten him with excommunication, and would not allow him so much time as to give his answer to the next assembly. Excommunication there was such a penalty, that people under it were very much deprived of conversation with men. The fear of this made Wood comply in a little time; and meeting Dundas about three months after in the street at Edinburgh, he told him, that he had been forced to bow to the assembly against his light: for if he had been excommunicated, he had lost his livelihood. Thus Wood bowed through human fear, but he hardly outlived this two years.
In the meanwhile the priests became more and more jealous of Dundas; for he not having them in such an esteem as they wished, they said that he would infect the whole nation. And they did not stick here, but to know with whom he corresponded in England, they opened, (so great was their power,) his letters at the post-house, and sometimes kept them: but if they found nothing in them, by which they could prejudice him, they caused them to be sealed up again, and delivered to him. By this base practice, they came to know that one Gawen Lawry, merchant of London, sent him a box, with about three pounds sterling worth of books. This box Dundas found afterwards that the priest, John Oswald, had taken away: and whatever he did, he could not get them again, till the English came into Scotland, but then many of them were wanting. Dundas in the meanwhile unwilling to comply with the kirk, was at length excommunicated; but he was generally so well esteemed, that none seemed to regard that sentence, so as to keep at a distance from him; which made this act the more contemptible. Now though Dundas favoured the doctrine of the Quakers, yet they were such a despised people, that he, who was a man of some account in the world, could not as yet give up to join with them.
It happened once that he was riding from Edinburgh to his house, in a winter evening, and hearing a noise of some men as if fighting, he bade his man ride up in haste to see what it was, which he did, and calling out, said, that there were two men on horseback, beating another on foot, Dundas riding up to them, saw the two beating the other man, who said to them, ‘What did I say to you, but bid you fear God?’ By this Dundas presently perceived that the man thus beaten was a Quaker; and asking his name, which the other telling, he knew it, though he did not know the man by sight: and then he fell a beating the two with his rod, and ordered those that were with him, to carry them to the next prison: but the said Quaker intreated him to let them go, which he did, after having asked their names, and dwelling-places. About a week after, the said Quaker told a relation of Dundas what kindness he showed him, and how he had in some manner been saved by him; ‘yet,’ said he, ‘I found the same spirit in him that was in the other two men who beat me.’ Such a saying as this would have offended some men, but with Dundas it had a contrary effect; for these words so reached him, that some time after meeting the said Quaker again, he desired, that as he passed that way, he would make his house his lodging place: which kind invitation he seemed not unwilling to accept of. Dundas had now attained so much experience, that he could discern between the spirits of meekness and rashness; and sufficiently perceive that the said Quaker, by that which he spoke concerning him, had not made himself guilty of the latter; but yet he could not bow so low, as to join in society with the Quakers, though secretly he endeavoured more and more to live up to their doctrine; and therein he enjoyed more peace in his heart than formerly.
But his outward condition in the world not being very forward, he went into France, and settled at Dieppe. Whilst he dwelt there, a certain woman out of England, came thither with her maid, and spread in the town some books of George Fox and William Dewsbury, translated into French; and she herself having written some papers, got them turned into French by Dundas, and so distributed them. But the message she chiefly came for, she hid from him, and that not without reason; for what she acted there, was so singular, that if it had been known before, it is probable she would not have been able to perform it. Though I do not find what her intent was in the thing, yet it seems likely to me, that she, not knowing the language there spoken, would by a sign testify against their apparel and dress, and that on this wise: on the First-day of the week she came to the meeting-house of the Protestants there, where some thousands of people were met: and, having set herself in the most conspicuous place, just over against him that preached, before the service was finished, she stood up, with the maid that was with her, who taking off a mantle and hood she was covered with, she appeared clothed in sackcloth, and her hair hanging down, sprinkled with ashes: thus she turned herself round several times, that all the people might see her. This sight struck both preacher and auditory with no small consternation; and the preacher’s wife afterwards telling somebody how this sight had affected her, said, ‘This is of deeper reach than I can comprehend.’ The said women having stood thus awhile, fell both down upon their knees, and prayed, and then went out of the meeting, many following them, and distributed some books. Then they came to their lodging, which was in a Scotchman’s house; but he refusing them entrance, they came to Dundas’s lodging, who knew nothing of all this. They therefore told him, that the work they came for in that nation, was now done; and he asking what they had done, they told him, and signified that they wanted lodging till they went away. Then he went abroad to see if he could find lodging for them, but in vain; he then offered them his bed, being willing to shift for himself somewhere else, but they refused to accept of his offer; and his landlady not being willing to let them sit up that night in any of her rooms, they were fain to stay that night in an outhouse.
Now this business had made such a stir in the town, that one of the king’s officers coming the next day to Dundas, told him, that he had transgressed the laws of the nation, by receiving persons of another religion to his lodging: for the king tolerated only two religions, viz. Papists and Protestants. To this Dundas said, that he had not transgressed the law of hospitality, and he had been forced to do so, since he could not let them lie in the street, where they would have been in danger of their lives by the rude multitude. Then the women were taken away, and sent to prison; and they not being provided with food, Dundas took care of that. Sometime after, an order being come from the parliament, at Rouen, it was read to them, viz. that they should be transported forthwith back to England, with the first passage-boat, and all their papers and books to be burnt in the market, and themselves also, if ever they should come to that nation again. In pursuance of this they were put into a passage-boat in the night time, and so sent to England. Afterwards the people at Dieppe intended to pursue Dundas as one of their judgment; but he was unwilling to be looked upon as such, though the Protestants had informed against him, that he did not come to their meetings: but of this no crime could be made, and Dundas told them, if they persecuted him, being a merchant, and trafficking there, they might expect the like to be done to their merchants in England. And when the judge affirmed that Dundas was of the judgment of these women, he told them that they were better than he; but that their way was too strait for him to walk in. There fell out two things which Dundas took singular notice of; the one was, that the Scotchman who shut out the women, died within twelve months after; and the other, that the house of his landlady, who refused them a chamber to sit in, was burnt within the said time, without its being known whence the fire came, no house being burnt besides, though it was in the middle of the town.
In the meanwhile Dundas continued in an unquiet condition; for by reason of human fear, he found himself too weak to profess publicly before men, what he believed to be truth.