SUNDERLAND.’
It was now said commonly that the king might not do thus; and those who grudged the Quakers this liberty, did not stick to set forth this dispensation in very ill-favoured colours; nay, they said that William Penn advised the king to do what he could not do without breaking his promise. Yet if the king had made no greater infringement, his reign it may be would have lasted longer: but the dispossessing of the fellows of Magdalen College at Oxford, the imprisonment of the bishops, and the public admittance of jesuits and monks, caused a ferment in the minds of people. Now the bishops were tried at the king’s bench bar, in Westminster-Hall; but they were acquitted, and so released. The king also had appointed some ecclesiastical commissioners; but many looked upon this as a kind of inquisition, and it seemed not well to agree with liberty of conscience, which if he had maintained justly, according to the advice of the Quakers in their address, it is not likely that he would have come to such a strait, as now he was put to.
Not long before this time, one Theophila Townsend, a woman of years, and understanding, published a book, wherein she gave a relation of the grievous persecution her friends in Gloucestershire had suffered, by imprisonment and spoil of goods, and how she herself had also undergone many sufferings, and had been imprisoned in the castle of Gloucester more than three years. Among other cases, she relates also, how some time before her imprisonment, it happened, that by order of the justices, Thomas Cutler and James George, she being seized in the street, said to the latter, that the Lord would plead her cause, and that what measure he meted, should be measured to him again. And it thus happened, that before she was released, the wife of the said George, who took her from her husband, was by death taken from him. Afterwards this George came with the bishop of Gloucester into a meeting, where Theophila was on her knees praying; at which the bishop asking him whether she was the woman he spoke of, and he answering, ‘Yes, my lord;’ the bishop took her by the arm with such violence, that he had almost pulled her down backward, saying, ‘Give over, woman, and obey the king’s officers.’ But such was her zeal, that it could not be stopped; for the more opposition she met with, the more she felt herself encouraged, and inspired, to praise God for his goodness: and though the bishop stirred up the justice, yet it seemed not in his power to break off the current of her speech; so that they let her alone, till she having discharged herself, stood up. Then the names of those that were met, were taken in writing: and sometime after, she, though aged and weakly, was in winter-season led three or four miles through the snow, and committed to jail at Gloucester, where she was kept three years and four months, and then released by king James.
Afterward she published a book, as hath been said already, in which she gave an account how some of her friends had been beaten, punched, and abused, to that degree, that they died of it, as she testified to have seen herself: ‘Yet,’ said she, ‘though many died who were stronger than I, it hath pleased the Lord to preserve my life, that I may speak to the praise of his name, and tell of his wonders, and put you, persecutors, once more in mind of what belongs to your peace. Blessed be the Lord, he is risen for Zion’s sake, which ye have ploughed long as a field; and when their enemies have done their worst, then the Lord shall make his Zion to be an everlasting glory, and Jerusalem the praise of the whole earth. And as ye see now in others that persecution is evil, so see it also in yourselves; repent in dust and ashes. Remember who it was that said, the wise man’s eyes are in his head, but the fool walketh in darkness. The eyes of fools look out for mistakes in others, and they blame in others what they are guilty of themselves. Methinks the eye-lids of the morning, that is now dawned and rising before you, ought to bring you to a true sight of your condition in this matter.’ Going on thus, she reproves the informers who had enriched themselves with the spoils of their neighbours; and she also relates how the priest of Gloucester had put his name to a petition to the king, in which, justice George, and others, desired that the meeting-house of the Quakers might be given to the town, to make a work-house of for the poor. ‘But,’ said she, ‘this is like Judas, who, when the woman came with an alabaster box of very precious spikenard, said, ‘Why was this waste made? Why was not this ointment sold, and the money given to the poor?’ But the scripture saith, that this he said, not that he cared for the poor, but because he was a thief, and had the bag. Thus the priest made it appear by what he did, that he was not a true minister of the gospel; for he came short of the works of the law, which saith, ‘Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s house, nor any thing that is thy neighbour’s.’ And Christ commands to do unto men, what we would have them to do to us; by which it is plain that such doings are contrary to the law and the gospel. Those now who will have such blind sleepy watchmen to be their teachers, let them pay them, and not constrain others, who know them to be blind, to pay them also.’
Then speaking to those who had a hand in the spoiling of goods, and setting forth the odiousness of that work, she saith at last, ‘I do not write this from a spirit of revenge against any, but it is in the love of God, to warn you, and to exhort you to repentance, that ye may find mercy with the Lord, which is the real desire of my soul: I can truly say, in the presence of the Lord, that I have nothing in my heart but love and good-will to the worst of our enemies, and this in purity of heart, and in sincerity of mind. I desire really your eternal peace, and well-being, though ye have hardened your hearts against the Lord, and his truth and people. Turn to the Lord, I beseech you; bow before the Almighty, who will plead with all flesh, and shall call all to an account, and reward every one according to what he hath done in the body, whether it be good or bad. Consider this therefore whilst ye have time, and mind the things that belong to your peace, before they be hid from your eyes: for the long suffering of the Lord will come to an end, who said, “My spirit shall not always strive with man.” Therefore whilst the spirit of the Lord, his light, his grace, yet strives in your hearts, to turn you off from your evil ways, be willing to embrace it, believe in it, take counsel of it, submit to it with all your heart, be willing to be led and guided by it, and incline your hearts to follow it in all things, and then it will lead you to rest and peace with the Lord for ever.’ Yet more she said; but I break off. By such kind of emphatical speeches, sometimes persecutors have been so touched to the heart, that they themselves became harmless Christians.
I am come now almost to a conclusion of my relation concerning persecution; of which I could have written much more, but that I was unwilling to extend my work beyond what I should have been well able to complete. Yet before I altogether part with this matter, I will mention something concerning Theophilus Green, of whom mention hath been made before. He lived at Battersea, not far from London, and was a man beloved of his neighbours, because of his honest conversation; yet he was much persecuted, both for attending meetings, and for preaching. Once it happened that some officers came to his house to see whether there was a meeting, and they behaved themselves moderately: for what they did seemed against their mind, it being only in obedience to the order of justice Duke, who, on account of a former offence, had issued out warrants to make distress. The officers not satisfied in the case, and seeing no meeting, went their way, and returned the warrant; and T. Green went afterwards to the said justice, and speaking to him, said amongst the rest, ‘Consider what that mouth and tongue of thine hath said formerly, viz. that I had been ever kind to thee; and is this the way of requiting it? Know for certain, that that God whom I have served, and for whose cause I now suffer, will avenge me; for vengeance is the Lord’s, and he will repay it one way or other, except thou speedily repentest.’ At this saying the justice began to tremble, and crying out, said, ‘I will do you no more hurt than I will do my own soul. Pray go to the officers and tell them, I will never trouble them any more upon the account of you.’ Green did so; and they were glad of it. And Duke being upon some complaint dismissed, one Sir John Broadrick succeeded in his room; and he was so moderate, that he prevented the informers, by keeping Theophilus and his friends out of their meeting-house, which was for about two years and a half.
Afterwards they were suffered again to go into their meeting-house, but then justice Forster came once, and taking their names, fined Theophilus 10l. as a preacher. And afterwards he with others coming with a constable to seize for the fine, the constable being come to the door of the house, said, ‘Neighbour Green, where are you? We are come to seize your goods, if you will let us in.’ But this so displeased the justice, that going down the yard, and seeing some oars and poles, he required the constable to take them away. To which he answered, ‘I am no porter.’ ‘Then,’ said the justice, ‘command some others to do it.’ To which the constable returned, ‘I command you to do it.’ This so enraged the justice, that he fined him. Some time after the said justice coming again with an high constable, and another petty constable, seized a barge, and had it carried away, and several times offered it to sale, but none would buy it. And after it had been carried about from place to place for sale, at length it was found adrift by one who knew not of its being seized; and hearing that it was Theophilus’s barge, he brought it to him. But Theophilus went to the constables, and told them how it came to him, and where he had it, saying, since it was come to him again he was willing to keep it; but if they took it away again he would not hinder them. This account being given to the justice, he sent a warrant, and committed Theophilus to the Marshalsea prison. After three weeks the sessions was held at the Marshalsea; and the last day the said justice came to him in the prison, saying, he came out of love to see him, and to advise him for his good; which was, that he would have him pay his fine; ‘for,’ said he, ‘I am sure the grand jury hath found the bill against you; and if you should come off, I have such an influence with the judge, as to cause the oath to be tendered to you; and I know you will not take it; and then you will be run to a premunire, and are not like to come out as long as you live.’ To which Theophilus answered, ‘Thou saidst thy coming was in love, to advise me for my good; but by what thou hast said, it appears the contrary; for now I perceive thou hast devised as much mischief as thou canst against me. As to the fine, if it were but ten pence, nay ten farthings, I would not pay it. And if the Lord should permit thee to do as thou hast said, and so be the cause of bringing my grey hairs the sooner to the grave, my blood will be at justice Forster’s door, and it will cry vengeance against thee.’
The next day the two constables being called before the grand jury, were asked what they had against Theophilus Green, that stood there indicted; and the high constable answered, ‘As to Theophilus Green, he is as honest a man, though a Quaker, as lives about us; and he was lately in office for the poor, and behaved himself as well in it as any hath done these twenty years. And touching the barge he is indicted for, when it came to him he came to us, and told how it came, and where he had laid it, saying, if we would take it away again he would not hinder us. This is all we have to say.’ Some of the grand jury knowing Theophilus very well, and the cause too, did aggravate the matter very high against the justice: and as to the indictment they brought it in ignoramus. So Theophilus was cleared by proclamation: and sir Richard How, being one of the jury, advised him to arrest the justice, there being two good actions, as defamation and false imprisonment. But Theophilus said he owned their love, but would leave the thing to the Lord, for whose cause he suffered; for vengeance was the Lord’s, and he would repay it. And it was but some little time after that the said justice Forster died, as was reported, in great horror and misery. The time when this happened I do not know exactly, yet I take it to have been some years before the time I now describe. We see by this instance a very singular deliverance, such as did not befal every one, but which could not but encourage Theophilus the more.
Before I conclude this year I must mention something concerning W. Penn, who when the government of king James was sinking, not only bore the blame of many miscarriages; but by some was styled a Papist, though this was altogether false. But he had a great many enemies; and it was no new thing to brand the Quakers with the odious name of jesuits: for thirty years before this time at Bristol great endeavours were used to persuade people they were Franciscans. William Penn patiently bore the slander of being decried as a Papist, saying but little in justification of himself, till at length he made a return to a letter sent by one who seriously begged of him to give an answer to those accusations that had been forged in prejudice of his reputation. In this paper he ascribed his free access to the king, partly to the relation his father, as admiral, and to the service of the said king, and who was then duke of York, and high admiral of England; and his special favour also in releasing him out of the tower of London in the year 1669. To this he added, ‘My father’s humble request to him, upon his death-bed, was, to protect me from the inconveniences and troubles my persuasion might expose me unto; and his friendly promise to do it, and exact performance of it, from the moment I addressed myself to him: I say, when all this is considered, any body that hath the least pretence to good-nature, gratitude, or generosity, must needs know how to interpret my access to the king.—Is any thing more foolish as well as false, than that because I am often at Whitehall, therefore I must be author of all that is done there, that doth not please abroad. But supposing some such things to have been done; pray tell me if I am bound to oppose any thing I am not called to do: I never was a member of council, cabinet, or committee, where the affairs of the kingdom are transacted. I have had no office or trust, and consequently nothing can be said to be done by me; nor for that reason could I lie under any test or any obligation to discover my opinion of public acts of state: and therefore, neither can any such acts, nor any silence about them, in justice be made my crime. Volunteers are blanks and cyphers in all governments. And unless calling at Whitehall once a day, upon many occasions, or my not being turned out of nothing, (for that no office is,) be the evidence of my compliance in disagreeable things, I know not what else can with any truth be alleged against me. I am not without apprehensions of the cause of this behaviour towards me; I mean my constant zeal for an impartial liberty of conscience. But if that be it, the cause is too good to be in pain about it. I ever understood that to be the natural right of all men; and that he that had a religion without it, his religion was none of his own. For what is not the religion of man’s choice, is the religion of him that imposes it: so that liberty of conscience is the first step to have a religion. This is no new opinion with me, I have wrote many apologies within the last twenty years to defend it, and that impartially. Yet I have as constantly declared, that bounds ought to be set to this freedom, and that morality was the best; and that as often as that was violated under a pretence of conscience, it was fit the civil power should take place. Nor did I ever once think of promoting any sort of liberty of conscience for any body, which did not preserve the common protestancy of the kingdom, and the ancient rights of the government: for to say truth, the one cannot be maintained without the other.—And till I saw my own friends, with the kingdom delivered from the legal bondage which penal laws for religion had subjected them to, I could with no satisfaction think of leaving England, though much to my prejudice beyond sea, and at my great expense here, having in all this time never had either office, or pension, and always refusing the rewards or gratuities of those I have been able to oblige.’ From this little abstract of William Penn’s Apology, it appears sufficiently what kind of liberty he defended; and such a liberty afterwards took place in the reign of the next king.
Of George Fox I have been long silent, and I do not meet with any very remarkable transactions that concerned him, except that he wrote much, both for edification of his friends, and for the instruction and admonition of others; for he was continually occupied with the care of the church, and that things might be kept in good order, which to perform the better, he now staid a long while in and about London.