This summer Stephen Crisp was prisoner at Ipswich, where the number of friends was considerably increased by his ministry. I, with some other friends of Holland, visited him there in prison, and we found him in a cheerful condition, as well contented as if he had been at liberty: for he suffered for the ministry of the gospel, and continued to preach in prison when his friends came to visit him.
The journey which G. Fox made this year through England and Wales I pass by. The latter part of the summer he returned to London, where with great satisfaction I heard him preach several times before a numerous auditory: for about that time, the meetings of dissenters were not disturbed at London, but all was so quiet, that the Quakers, so called, were suffered to build a large meeting place in Gracechurch-street, where the first time a meeting was kept, I was present, and saw G. Fox, and heard him preach there, besides some others.
Whilst he was at London, he gave a visit to esquire Marsh, who now was a justice of the peace in Middlesex, and it so happened that he was at dinner when G. Fox came to his house, which so pleased him, that he kindly invited him to sit down with him to dinner, but G. Fox courteously excused himself. There were at that time several great persons at table with justice Marsh, who said to one of them, (a Papist,) ‘Here is a Quaker you have not seen before.’ From this the said Papist took occasion to ask G. Fox, whether he did own the christening of children? To which G. Fox answered, there was no Scripture for any such practice. ‘What!’ said he, ‘not for christening children?’ ‘Nay,’ replied G. Fox, ‘the one baptism by the one Spirit into one body, we own; but to throw a little water on a child’s face, and to call that baptizing and christening it, there is no Scripture for that.’ Then the Roman Catholic asked him, whether he did not own the Catholic Faith? ‘Yes,’ said G. Fox, but he added, that neither the pope nor the Papists were in that Catholic Faith; since the true faith worked by love, and purified the heart; and if they were in that faith which gives victory, by which they might have access to God, they would not talk to the people of a purgatory after death; neither would they ever use prisons, racks, or fines, to force others to their religion; because that was not the practice of the apostles and primitive Christians; but it was the practice of the faithless Jews and heathens, to use such forcing means. ‘But,’ continued G. Fox, ‘seeing thou art a great and leading man among the Papists, and sayest, there is no salvation but in your church, I desire to know of thee, what it is that bringeth salvation in your church,’ To this the Roman Catholic answered, ‘A good life:’ ‘And nothing else?’ said G. Fox. ‘Yes,’ replied the other, ‘good works.’ ‘Is this your doctrine and principle,’ said G. Fox. ‘Yes,’ said he. Then G. Fox replied, ‘Neither thou nor the pope, nor any of the Papists know, what it is that brings salvation.’ Then the Roman Catholic asked him, what brings salvation into your church? G. Fox answered, ‘That which brought salvation to the church in the apostles’ days, namely, the grace of God, which the Scripture says brings salvation, and hath appeared to all men; and teaches us to deny ungodliness, and worldly lusts, and to live godly, righteously, and soberly in this present world. By this it appears, it is not the good works, nor the good life, that brings the salvation, but the grace.’ ‘What!’ said the Roman Catholic, ‘doth this grace, that brings salvation, appear unto all men?’ ‘Yes,’ said G. Fox. ‘I deny that,’ returned the other. ‘All that deny that,’ replied G. Fox, ‘are sect-makers, and are not in the universal faith, grace, and truth, which the apostles were in.’ Then the Roman Catholic began to speak about the mother-church, which gave occasion to much discourse, and G. Fox asserted, that if any outward place had claim to be the mother-church, above all other churches, that Jerusalem had much more right to it than Rome. But in conclusion he said, that there was no other mother-church but Jerusalem, which is above, and is free, and which is the mother of us all, as saith the apostle. Upon this subject G. Fox did so paraphrase, that esquire Marsh said at length to the Roman Catholic, ‘O you do not know this man. If he would but come to church now and then, he would be a brave man.’
After some other discourse together, G. Fox, got an opportunity to go aside with the said Marsh into another room, and to desire that he who had much of the management of affairs, would prevent the persecution of his friends as much as possibly he could. Marsh showed himself not averse to this, but said, he was in a strait how to act between the Quakers and some other dissenters. ‘For,’ said he, ‘you say ye cannot swear, and the Independents, Baptists, and Fifth-monarchy people, say also, they cannot swear.’ To this G. Fox said, ‘I will show thee how to distinguish: the members of those societies thou speakest of, do swear in some cases, but we cannot swear in any case. If any one should steal their cows or horses, and thou shouldest ask them whether they would swear they were theirs? Many of them would readily do it. But if thou triest our friends, they cannot swear for their own goods. Therefore when thou puttest the oath of allegiance to any of them, ask them whether they can swear in any other case; as for their cow or horse? Which if they be really of us, they cannot do, though they can hear witness to the truth.’ Then G. Fox gave him a relation of a trial in Berkshire, viz. ‘A thief having stolen two beasts from one of those called Quakers, was imprisoned; but somebody having informed the judge, that the man that prosecuted was a Quaker, and he, (the judge,) perceiving that he would not swear, would not hear what the man could say, but tendered him the oath of allegiance and supremacy, which the said Quaker refusing, the judge premunired him, and let the thief go free.’
Esquire Marsh having heard this relation, said that judge was a wicked man. And by what G. Fox had told him, he sufficiently perceived how he might distinguish between the Quakers and other people. True it is, the Baptists in those days made some profession of the unlawfulness of swearing, but when they came to be tried on that account, they soon desisted from that part of their profession, as will be shown more at large in the sequel. But they and the Independents, &c. were very loth to take the oath of allegiance, because of a grudge they had to the government; and this was well known to those that were at the helm. But the innocent Quakers were continually exposed to the malice of their persecutors, and bore the hardest shock of the laws made against dissenters. But now justice Marsh did not omit to free the Quakers from persecution as much as was in his power; for he kept several from being premunired in those parts where he was a justice. And when sometimes he could not avoid sending those that were brought before him to prison, he sent some only for a few hours, or for a night. And even this was such hard work to him, that at length he told the king, he had sent some of the Quakers to prison contrary to his conscience, and that he could not do so any more. He also advised the king to give liberty of conscience: and he was so serviceable to stop the violence of persecution, that about this time little was heard about disturbing of meetings.
About the forepart of this year, if I mistake not, there happened a case at Edmondsbury, which I cannot well pass by in silence, viz. A certain young woman being delivered of a bastard child, destroyed it, and was therefore committed to prison: whilst she was in jail, it is said William Bennit, a prisoner for conscience-sake, came to her, and in discourse asked her, whether during the course of her life, she had not many times transgressed against her conscience? And whether she had not often thereupon felt secret checks and inward reproofs, and been troubled in her mind because of the evil committed; and this he did in such a convincing way, that she not only assented to what he laid before her, but his discourse so reached her heart, that she came clearly to see, that if she had not been so stubborn and disobedient to those inward reproofs, in all probability she would not have come to such a miserable fall as now she had: for man not desiring the knowledge of God’s ways, and departing from him, is left helpless, and cannot keep himself from evil, though it may be such as formerly he would have abhorred in the highest degree, and have said with Hazael, ‘What, is thy servant a dog, that he should do this great thing?’ W. Bennit thus opening matters to her, did by his wholesome admonition so work upon her mind, that she who never had conversed with the Quakers, and was altogether ignorant of their doctrine, now came to apprehend that it was the grace of God that brings salvation, which she so often had withstood; and that this grace had not yet quite forsaken her, but now made her sensible of the greatness of her transgression. This consideration wrought so powerfully, that from a most grievous sinner, she became a true penitent, and with hearty sorrow she cried to the Lord, that it might please him not to hide his countenance. And continuing in this state of humiliation, and sincere repentance, and persevering in supplication, she felt in time some ease; and giving heed to the exhortations of the said Bennit, she attained at length to a sure hope of forgiveness by the precious blood of the immaculate Lamb, who died for the sins of the world.
Of this she gave manifest proofs at her trial before judge Matthew Hale, who having heard how penitent she was, would fain have spared her, having on purpose caused to be inserted in the indictment, that she had committed the fact wilfully and designedly. But she being asked according to the form, ‘Guilty or not guilty?’ Readily answered, ‘Guilty.’ This astonished the judge, who purposely had got the words wilfully and designedly inserted in the indictment, that from thence she might find occasion to deny the charge, and so to quash the indictment; and therefore he told her, that she seemed not duly to consider what she said; since it could not well be believed that such a one as she, who it may be inconsiderately had roughly handled her child, should have killed it wilfully and designedly. Here the judge opened a back door for her to avoid the penalty of death. But now the fear of God had got so much room in her heart, that no tampering would do; no fig leaves could serve her for a cover; for she knew now that this would have been adding sin to sin, and to cover herself with a covering, but not of God’s Spirit; and therefore she plainly signified to the court, that indeed she had committed the mischievous fact intendedly, thereby to hide her shame; and that she having sinned thus grievously, and being affected now with true repentance, she could by no means excuse herself, but was willing to undergo the punishment the law required; and therefore she could not but acknowledge herself guilty, since otherwise how could she expect forgiveness from the Lord? This undisguised and free confession, being spoken with a serious countenance, did so affect the judge, that tears trickling down his face, he sorrowfully said, ‘Woman, such a case as this I never met with before; perhaps you, who are but young, and speak so piously, as being struck to the heart with repentance, might yet do much good in the world: but now you force me, that ex officio I must pronounce sentence of death against you, since you will admit of no excuse.’ Standing to what she had said, the judge pronounced sentence of death. And when afterward she came to the place of execution, she made a pathetical speech to the people, exhorting the spectators, especially those that were young, ‘To have the fear of God before their eyes, to give heed to his secret reproofs for evil, and so not to grieve and resist the good spirit of the Lord; which she herself not having timely minded, it had made her run on in evil, and thus proceeding from wickedness to wickedness, it had brought her to this dismal exit. But since she firmly trusted to God’s infinite mercy, nay surely believed her sins, though of a bloody dye, to be washed off by the pure blood of Christ, she could contentedly depart this life.’ Thus she preached at the gallows the doctrine of the Quakers, so called, and gave heart-melting proofs that her immortal soul was to enter into paradise, as well as anciently that of the thief on the cross. I have been credibly informed by a person who had it from the mouths of such as were present at the execution, that in her request to God she prayed, that it might please him to give a visible sign, that she was received into his favour. And that though it was then a cloudy day, yet immediately after she was turned off, the clouds broke a little, and the sun for a few moments shined upon her face, and presently after ceased shining, and the sky continued overcast. She thus in a serious frame of mind, suffered death, which her crime justly deserved.
This year at London died Thomas Loe, a man of an excellent gift, who zealously had laboured in the ministry of the gospel in Ireland, and by his preaching had brought many over into the society of his friends, and among others also William Penn, to whom on his death-bed he spoke thus, ‘Bear thy cross, and stand faithful to God; then he will give thee an everlasting crown of glory, that shall not be taken from thee. There is no other way which shall prosper than that which the holy men of old have walked in. God hath brought immortality to light, and life immortal is felt. Glory, glory to him, for he is worthy of it. His love overcomes my heart, nay, my cup runs over: glory be to his name for ever.’ No wonder that this speech of one that was at the point of entering into eternity, confirmed William Penn exceedingly in that doctrine, which he had now embraced as truth. At another time Thomas Loe said to his friends that stood at his bed-side, ‘Be not troubled, the love of God overcomes my heart.’ And to George Whitehead and others he said, ‘The Lord is good to me; this day he hath covered me with his glory. I am weak, but am refreshed to see you. The Lord is good to me.’ Another friend asking him how it was with him, he answered, ‘I am near leaving you, I think: but am as well in my spirit as I can desire: I bless the Lord: I never saw more of the glory of God than I have done this day.’ And when it was thought he was departing, he began to sing praises to the Lord, saying, ‘Glory, glory to thee for ever!’ Which did not a little affect the standers by, thus to hear a dying man sing. And in this glorious state he departed this life the 5th of October.
Now since persecution was at a stand this year at London, those of other persuasions sometimes bitterly inveighed from the pulpit against the Quakers, and would challenge them also to a dispute. William Burnet and Jeremy Ives, eminent Baptist teachers, had encountered George Whitehead this summer at Chertsey, and Horn, in Surry, about the resurrection, and Christ’s body in heaven, endeavouring to blacken the Quakers in respect of those points, because they kept to Scripture words, from which the others departing, advanced very gross absurdities.