m±^m '- M mi m m ■■-•' 1 4? H /7 /.u. ir. £ Xty ®¥alaqi m ^ ,4* ^ l> PRINCETON, N. J. *{J Division- .>>*<. ..„ — ' ^— - Section S-rf » I O .S HISTORx OF THE L I JAN 4 IS °k Thomas Ellwood: o R, An Account of his Birth, Education, &c, with divers Obfervations on his Life and Manners when a Youth ; And how he came to be convinced of the Truth > with his many Sufferings and Services for the fame. ALSO, Several other remarkable PafTages and Occurrences. Written by his own Hand. To which is added, A SUPPLEMENT by J. W, Heb, xi. 2. By Faith the Elders obtained a good Report. The Third Edition. LONDON: Printed and Sold by Luke Hinde, at the Bible in GdQrge-yard, Lombard-Jireet, 1765. { 3 1 T H F PREFACE. Ather tip the Fragments that joi™ 6. remain, that nothing be loft ; 12, was the Dire&ion of our Savieur to His Difciples, after He had fed the Multitude. Which may Avell and ufefully be applied, to the collecting and preferving the Accounts of the Lives of good Men : Men, who in their Day have been eminently ufe- ful in thofe Stations of Life wherein God, by His good Providence^ hath placed them. And this preferving, by Publication, is the rather to be done, when themfelves do leave be- hind them, in writing, an Account of their Lives 3 and of the fignai Mercies of God to them therein : For from fiich Accounts may beft A 2 be 4 The T R E F A C E. be gathered, by the Reader, the Man's particular State, Exercife and Growth in the Work of Refto- ration, out of the Fall and Degene- racy ; and, in the reading thereof, be not only excited to blefs the Name of the Lord, on his Behalf, but alio c;ain fome Direftion from the Path io fairly tra6t out, and Ground of Hope; that by being faithful, they may likewife attain to the fame good Experience. There is not with me any Doubt, but fomething of this kind may be the Lot of manv, into whofe Hands this Treat ife may happen to come; lor that they will herein meet with Variety of Exercijes, and the Tro- vidences of God therein, all related with great Strength and Plainnels of Speech : Our deceafed Friend Thomas Elhvoad, having been a JMan whom God had endued with Jhigular Abilities, both as a Man, and as a Chrijlian ; which is evident, not The T REE A C E not only from this fliort Account of his Life, which was written by himfelf, and by the Supplement added hereunto ; but more largely from his many ufeful Labours and Services in the many Books which he writ in the Defence of Truth, and theFriends thereof : For which Service, he was in a particular man- ner qualified by fpiritual ffiijdom and Chri/lian Obedience '; to \vhich_, in him, was added great Strength and Depth of Judgment, wherein he could difcern the Spirits of others, and was very much the Mafter of his own, as did appear to fuch who knew him, not only by the Sound- nefs of his Reajoning, and the Sea- fonablenefs of his Words ; but alfo by his great and exemplary Modejly, in that he was not hafty to propofe, nor rudely tenacious to inlift on what he had propofed, if any thing, though not well cxpreft, yet well intended, was offered by any one A 3 much i The PREFACE. -■■■•■ - ' ■ much weaker, nay, though but by a Babe in Chriji. His Countenance was manly and chearful; his "Deportment grave, yet affable and courteous, even to the meaneft Perfon ; his Converfation innocent, pleafant and inftrudlive, yet fevere againft any thing that was beyond the Liberty of Truth. Thefe, with his other Qualifica- tions of Body and Mind, did render him both very acceptable and very ufeful, as a Friend, as a Neighbour, and as a Member and Elder in the Church of Chrifi ; and the more, for that his Time was chiefly im- ployed in being ferviceable in one or other of thefe Capacities. I might here particularly men- tion the feveral Labours of our de- cea/ed Friend, according to their refpedtive Times, and the Nature of their feveral Subjects ; but much of this being already done in the entiling The T R EFA C E. enfuing Pages, I chufe to remit the Reader thither ; by which poflibly he may be excited to the Perufal of them, and (hall only fay concerning them, That the judicious Reader will ea fly obferve, that his Method and Stile do denote him to have been a Scholar: And yet not farther Jo, than the Simplicity and Turity of the Truth, whereof he made Tro- fejfwn, would permit him. I was with our Friend Thomas Ellwood the greater Part of his Sicknefs : In which he was alfo very frequently vifited by our Friend George Bowles, who was his Neigh- bour ; to whom therefore I refer, for the Account which he may give of his Sicknefs and dying Words. As it was my good Lot to be well acquainted with him (though only in the latter Years of his Life) and know that he did neither ufe nor encourage the bellowing elaborate A 4 Enco- 8 The T RE FA C E. Encomiums upon Perfons deeeafed : So neither fhall I add further con- cerning him, than to fay with the Apoflle concerning the Faithful, Heb. ii. T} 3a t he was righteous, God teftify- ing of his Gifts j and ly it being dead, yet Jpeaketh. London, the 12th of the T W* fecond Month, 1714. J ' George ( 9 1 George Bowles his Testimony concerning Thomas Ellwood. Dear Friends, IT is in my Heart briefly, on this Occafion, to commemorate the tender Dealings of the Lord with His People in this latter Age of the IForld, when it hath pleafedHim, in Love to poor loft Man, gracioii/ly to appear, by the breaking forth of His glorious Gofpel-day. And by the fecret divine Reaches of the Hand of God, which hath been felt and feen in the Light of it, many have been drawn in their Spirits tofeek after the Lord, and to en- quire after the Knowledge of the Way of Life and Salvation ; and blejjed be His holy Name, who was gracioufly plea/ed, by the Inflrinings of this divine Light in theHeartsof many, to expel the Darkneis and rend the Vail. And then was the Arm of His mighty Power made bare, for the gathering many Hhoufands to the faving Knowledge of Himfelf. And in that Day was the Lord pleafed, according to His Promife, to pour forth of His Spirit upon. Sons and upon Daughters ; yea, upon Servants and upon Handmaids, and many were made to prophefy ; and being qualified by the holy Spirit which they received, and were baptized by it into His Name, becatne willing, and were freely given up in Obedience to the Lord, and in Bowels of tender Love to the Souls of Mankind, in His Power to preach the Gojpel of Life and Salvation to thofe to whom they were fent t and many were turned io George Bowles his Testimony turned from Darknefs to Light, and from the Power of Satan unto God, by their Minifiry : Amongil whom our dear deceafed Friend and Bro- ther, Thomas Ellwood, was one, whofe Con- science was reached and awakened by the power fid Minifiry of dear Edward Burrough, as I have heard him relate (and as by the following Sheets will more plainly appear.) And of that Day and tfime, and the worthy Injlrument by whofe Minifiry he was convinced, and turned unto God, and made fenfible of the divine Principle ofhxfe and Light in his own Heart, have I heard him /peak with great Regard ; and alfo of the Sufferings which did at- tend him, after he received theTmth, in his Father s Family, for the Truth'* Sake ; and how the Lord prejerved him in that *Time, under the various Ex- erci/es which he pa/fed through for Truth'* Tefli- mony ; which for Chriffs Sake he was confcientioufly concerned to ft and in, according to that Plainne/s and Simplicity which Truth then led, and Jlill continues to lead the fmcere Difciples of Cbrift into, by which they were di/iinguijhed from the World j and, for the Sake thereof, they were defpifed of Men, and hated of the World. Such was the plain Language of Thou to one, and refufmg the Hat- Honour ; for which, dear T. Ellwood fuffered not a little in that Day, as, by the following Ac- count of his Life more fully appears. And it were well if all, who come up in a Prof (/ion of the blefjed Truth in this Time, were faithful in the/e', and in the other Branches of its < feJlimony. And let all confider, that the neglecting thereof is, in a Degree, a making void the Sufferings of the Faithful Concerning T.Ellwood. ii Faithful (and jirengthening the Hands of evil Doers) who for the Sake of their Teftimony, loved not their Lives to the Death ; but under- went 677^/Mockings, Bufferings, Stonings, Whip- pings, Stockings, Revilings, Imprisonments, and Spoiling of Goods ; rejoicing in the Lord, that they were counted worthy to fuff'er, either lejs or more, for His Name Sake. In refpeSl of which, this my dear Friend was a good Example, he being a Man of a jleady Mind, and very patient in Suffering, as well as faithful in his Tefiimony for Truth, and took joyfully the Spoiling of his Goods, wherein he was tried but a few 2 ears before his Death. He was often concerned in Defence of Truths Teflimony, both againfl our profeffed Ad- verfaries, and alfo againfl the libertine Spirit which appeared in fome, profejfing the fame Truth with us, who oppojed themfehes againfl: that good Ordir and Difcipline which .the Truth led Friends info. All which will abundantly appear from the Books themfehes, which are in print, which he writ upon various Occaiions, and upon divers Subjects ; and let not his great Labour and Indujlry be for got 'ten ■, in his writing thoje Two Hiflorical Volumes, rela- ting to the Old and New Teftament : A IVork truly great, and is, and may be of great Ufe and Service. By all which his many Labours, it may be perceived by the wary and inlightned Reader, that the Lord had endowed him with an excellent Gift, and qualified him for the Service of Truth, His Church and People j in which he imphyed the Talent which the bountiful Lord had given him, to the Honour of the great Giver, and to the Com- fort 12 George Bowles his Testimony fort and Edification of the Churh of Chrijl : But more efpe daily were his Services known to the Bre- thren in this County of Bucks ; mo/i of which are fallen afleep, and but few remaining here, who knew him in his Beginning, or his fir ft Services for the Lord, His Church and People ; amongfl whom he was a zealous Afferter of that excellent Dijci- pline the Lord had opened in, and led His People to, for the preferving His Church as a Garden en- clojed : For which Caufe, how did many of thofe Libertines Jet themfelves fiercely againft, him, and JJjot their Arrows at him -, but the Lord defended him, and covered his Head in the Day of Battle, and his Bow abode in Strength, and his Bough fpread over the Wall, and continued freih and green : But a Blafl from the Lord came upon their evil Work ; and -how have they melted away % And how is their Strength failed, and their Work brought to naught f But the BleJJing of the Lord is with His People, even with the Faithful, to this Day, whom He hath preferved as a peculiar Trea- fure toHimfelf : BleffedbeHis holy Name for ever- more. And furthermore, it may be truly faid of this our dear Friend, that as the Lord fitted him for His Service, fo was he eminently jerviceable in His Hand, in the Church of Chrijl -, particularly in thefe Parts, of which there are many living Witnejfes, in this and the adjacent Counties, of his great Labour of Love, having ferved the Church freely, with great Diligence and Faithfulnefs : The true Senfe of which, toucheth me and others, with the deeper Senfe of the great Lofs the Church hath by his Removal -, but being aljo fenfible through the Concerni tig T. Ellwood. 13 the Lord's Goodnefs, that our Lofs is his eternal Gain, I feel in my Heart an humble Submiffion to the Will of Him, who doth whatfoever pleafcth Him, both in Heaven and in Earth ; and who fljall fay unto him, What doeft Thou ? And it is the tender Breathing of 7ny Spirit to the God a?id Father cf our Lord Jefus Chrifl, that He would be gracioufly pleafed, in Pity and Compajjion to His poor People, to raife up, Jit and fumiflo more faithful Servants for His Work and Service ', and make them zealous for His Name and Truth upon the Earth, that the Place of this my dear Friend, and other faithful Servants of the Lord and His People, of late removed from amongfl us in thefe Parts, ?nay be fupplied ; and that the Spowfe of Chrifl may, amid/l all her Tribulations, Afflictions and fore Exercifes, be made to praife the Lord, and blefs His holy Name, who taketh away one, and raifetb up another, and blejfeth His Children with His Good?iefs, according toHisPro- viife made of old by the holy Prophet, Iia. xliv. ver. 3. faying, I will pour my Spirit upon thy Seed, and my Bleffing upon thine Off-fpring. And thus hath the Lord preferved Zionfrom Age to Age : And I doubt not, but am fully perfwaded, that He will Hill blefs His People, and preferve Zion , and deliver her from all her Enemies. And my dear Friends, Brethren, and Sifters, although it be matter of Sorrow to us, to part with cur dear Friends, efpecially fuch as have been made ferviceable in their Day, and have faith- fully Jerved the Lord and His People in their Ge- neration, as it may (1 hope without jujl Occafwn of Offence 14 George Bowles his Testimony Offence to any) be [aid of dear T. Ellwood, that he was a Man who Jerked the Lord in Faith ful- nefs, and His People with Chearfulnefs, and his Neighbours with Uprightnefs and Integrity: And therefore both they arid we have the greater Lofs \ yet may we not for row unfeafonably, as thofe which forrow without Hope, but believing that the Lord hath taken him to Himfelf in Mercy (though it may be in fudgment to Jbme who were unworthy) let us all learn Refignation to His bleffed Will, and fay with holy Job, The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away : Bleffed be the Name of the Lord. And dear Friends, / may farther fignify unto you, that it being my Lot to be with this our dear Friend (of whom I am f peaking) almofl every Day of his lafl llncfs, I did obferve i?i him, to my great Comfort and Satisfac7ion 3 a quiet compofed Frame of Mind and Spirit, and Re/ignation to the Will of God. When 1 came fir ft to him, which was foon after I heard of his being taken ill, which was the 24th of the fecond Month, I found him very much di fabled by the D idem per, which was thought to be a Falfy, that had feized hirn^ efpecially on his right Side, fo that he could not fiand alone, nor help himfelf, but a little with his left Hand ; and his Speech was alfo very much interrupted, injomuch that it was with great Diffi- culty, for the mojl part, that he expreffed himfelf fo as to be under flood ': Some 'Time after I came to him, there being alfo other Friends with him, we fate down together under a, weighty Lxercife of Spirit, waiting upon the Lord in deep Silence, with our Eye to Him j it plea fed the Lord emi- nently Concerning T. Ellwood. 15 nently to appear amojigft us, and to Jill our Hearts with the refrefloing Streams of His divine Love, and to open the Mouth of one of us in Prayer and Supplication ; and the Lord was gracioujly pleajed abundantly to replenijlo our Spirits, to our mutual Comjort, in a living Senfe of divine Goodnefs ; and this our dear Friend, exprejjed himjelf in great Tender nefs and Broke?inefs of Spirit, on this wife, I am fenfibly comforted and refreshed in this Vifit. And that Afternoon, he, fixing his Eyes upon me, with great Earnejlnefs of Spirit ex- preffed, as well as he could at that Time, a great Concern that was upon his Mind for Truth, and the Friends of it, in divers Particulars ; efpe- cially, in relation to our own Monthly and Quarterly-meetings, the Writings of both which, had been under his Care for more than forty Tears : After which, he was much eafed in his Spirit, and fo continued to the laft, fo far as 1 perceived ; often faying, when afked how he did % I am eafy, I am quiet. And he was often very tender in his Spirit, exprejing his Refgnation to the Will of God, whether in Life or Death, fay- ing, If the Lord hath no more Work for me to do, I am content and refigned to His Will ; and my hearty Farewel to all my Brethren. And at another Time, nearer his End, he faid to us pre- sent, in mitch Brokennefs of Heart, t am full of Joy and Peace, my Spirit is filled with Joy • or to this EJfetf : For by reafon that his Speech was fo weakned, fever al Things could' not be Jo well collected, which he at Times fpake, in a tender Senje of the Lord's Goodnejs 5 the Senje of which deeply 16 George Bowles his Testimon v, &c. deeply afeSled Jome of us who were with him. And my Heart is Jorrowfully aflfefted at this Time, in a Senfe of the great Lofs which the Church of Chrifl (in thefe Parts efpecially) hath by his Removal : But in this I a?n comforted, in a living Senfe of the Lord's Mercy and Goodnefs towirds him, in carrying him through his Af- fliction in great Patience and Quietnejs ; under which he was fweetly refrejhed by the Streams of divine Love, and his Cup was often made to over- flow : And we, who were prefent, being touched with a Senfe thereof were comforted therein, being in a Travail of Spirit for him, and did in our Meafures truly fympathize with him under his AffitBion. And I am fully fatisfied, he laid dowti his Head in Peace with the Lord, and is gathered to his ever lafting Reft. He departed this Life the jft of the third Month, i 7 1 3 , about the fecond Hour in the Morning, in the feventy fourth Tear of his Age. He received the Truth in the Tear 5659, and lived in Fellowfhip with the Friends cf it about fifty three Tears. And I think it may be truly faid of him, that as he lived fo he died, the Servant of the Lord and His People, and hath left a fweet Savour behind him, and his Memory is bkfjed with the Righteous for ' ever. Amen. Ihe eighth M™th t GEORGE BOWLES. t '7 ] A Testimony from the Monthly- meeting at Hunger-hill, the 7th of the fourth Month, 17 13, concerning our dear and well-beloved Friend and Brother in the Truth, Thomas Ellwood, deceafed. THAT the Dead which die in the Lord, ar? blejed of Him, we have great Affurance of, from John the Divine his writing to the feveri Churches, Rev. xiv. 13. Where he tells them, that he heard a Voice from Heaven, faying, write, Blefled are the Dead which die in the Lord, from henceforth : Yea, faith the Spirit, that they may reft from their Labours, and their Works do follow them. Of which Number, we have no Caufe to doubt, but this our dear Friend is one ; who was eminently ferviceable in the Church of Chrifl. A Man to whom the Lord had given a large Capacity be- yond many, and fumi/hed him with an excellent Gift -, whereby he was qualified for thofe Services in the Church, in the Performance of which he didjhine as a Star, which received its Lufier and Brightnefs from the glorious Sun of Righteoufnefs. He was wife, but humble ; conde- fcending to the Weak, and ready to help where he faw and fell Sincerity ; butfharp to that which he apprehended to be infincere and deceitful ; for which Caufe, he was not acceptable to Hypocrites and diforderly Walkers : Yet he was a Man of a very acceptable and agreeable Converfa- tion, as well as fiber and religious, both in the Church and in the World, being of a free and affable Temper and JDifpofition, far from /Iffetlation ; but of a courteous Be- haviour and graceful Carriage to all, and very fervice- able to and amongft his Neighbours: He was very near and dear to many of us., who were moft intimately acquainted with him, and his Memorial is fweet to us : His Services in our Meetings, and in the Quarterly-meeting for the B County Monthly-meeting Testimony. County of Bucks, were very great, and of many Tears Continuance \ in which he Jhewed great Diligence, being of a ready Mind, willing to ferve the Church, according to that Ability which the Lord had given him ; and his Heart and Houfe was open to his Friends, and the Monthly-meeting was kept there more than Forty Tears, and remains there to this Day. Our Lofs is great by his Removal : But in this we are fatisfied, that it is his ever- lajling Gain •, being gathered, as we have good Caufe to believe, to his eternal Refl. Ihe Knowledge we had of him, and the good Account which we have received of him, in the 'Time of his lafi Ilnefs, by tbofe who were tnoft conjlantly with him, and of his quiet and peaceable Departure, doth fenfibly engage our Hearts to acquiefce in the Will of the Lord ; and therein we have Peace and Comfort. He departed this Life, the ift of the third Month 17 1 3, and was honourably buried in Friends Burying-place at New Jourdans, in the Parifh of Giles- Chalfont, in the County of Bucks, the ^th Day of the fame Month. Signed by the Appointment of the Monthly- meeting, by us, George Bowles, Daniel Roberts, William Grimfdall, Abraham Barber, James Smith, Thomas Olliffe, Daniel Wharley, t 19 ] A Testimony from the Womens-meeting, concerning Thomas Ellwood. A Concern is upon our Spirits, to write fomewhat concerning our dear deceafed Friend and Elder, Thomas Ellwood, who was highly valued by us, for that Wifdom and Counfel which were with him ; and being of a free and affable Temper, ready to ajfift tbofe which flood in need thereof, encouraged many to apply to him for Advice, under the divers Circumftances and various Exercifes which this uncertain World affords ; which we have found to be for our Good, as we follow- ed it. He was an early Comer to Meetings, feldom hin- dered by Weather (though he lived three Miles difiant) when bodily Weaknefs did not hinder of late Tears, being oft indifpofed as to his Health. The Monthly-meeting was held at his Houfe about forty Tears, and he always look'd very kind and courteous on Friends when they came there, and took Care and Notice of the meaneft, who came in Sincerity. He was zealous for good Order, and againfi fuch, who, being in an apoftatized Spirit, oppofed it •, and may well be numbered amtmgfi the Wor- thies, whofe Names are upon Record for their Valour ; fo is this our Friend worthy to be, who never turned his Back on fuch who oppofed the Truth ; but food his Ground, as his printed. Sheets on fuch Occafions do /hew. As alfo his other Works of fever al kinds, do manifefl how great Endowments God had beflow&d on him, (yet we, who knew him in his Converfation, are engaged to fet forth how kind and condefending he was to the weakeft Capacity, and ivould help out when they wanted a Word) that Generations to come may learn how good it is to forfake All, and follow Chrift Jefus, as this our Friend did, and the Account of his Life, following, fhews •, who not onh %ives Wifdom, but teacheth Humility alfo. B 2 He 2o ./^Testimony from the He was greatly refpecled by bis Neighbours, for his Services amongfl them ; his Heart and Doors were open to the Poor, both fick and lame, who wanted Help, and had it freely, taking Care to provide Things itfeful for fuch Occafions, (bleft alfo with good Succefs) often facing, He mattered not what Coft he was at, to do Good. Such lament their Lofs : What then may we do, who mifs him in an higher Station, in his great Service in the Church of Chrift, but even defire to be refigned to the Will of the Lord ? who preferved him through all his Hardmips, to a Dominion over falfe Brethren, and is now out of their Reach, and of Temptation too ; on whoje Head the Blefling, ajk'd for Joleph, re/Is -, who as a fruitful Bough his Branch fpreads over the Wall of Oppofition, and his Bow abode in Strength •, the Hands of whofe Arms were made ftrong, by the Help of the mighty God of Jacob, to whom be the Glory for what He hath wrought in our Day, whofe own Works praife Him for evermore. And the Tears of Sorrow that we Jhed, for the Lofs of this our deceafed Friend, let them be remernbred to bow our Spirits, each of us, into a godly Care, that we may come up according to our feveral Capacities, to follow the Lord faithfully, in a godly Zeal for His Honour ; and fo come to lay down our Heads in Joy and Peace, as this our Friend exprejfed he did. This eminent Servant of Chrifi, was early convinced of the Way of Truth, wberein he continued to the finifhing of his Days ; for the Sake of which, he foon bec-ame a Sufferer ; not only by Imprifonment, for worfhipping God in the Affemblies of His People, but alfo, from his Father, by whom he was made as an Outcaft, for no other Caufe, but for his faithful Tefcimony in taking up the Crofs to the World's Behaviour and Language : Whereupon he was invited by his much valued Friend Ifaac Penington, to his Houfe, where he abode feveral 2 ears, until be Married. He was a Blejing in, as well as a great Comfort and Help to that Family j and by his Womens- meeting, &c. 21 his wife Conduct therein, gained much Efteem, not only from the Elders, but the Youth, whom he mfilrutled in Learning ; and though mcfl of them are by Death re- moved, yet 0>.e jlill remains, who from certain and experimental Knowledge, can commemorate his Worth - 9 being engaged thereto, from a Senfe of the Benefit of his good and wholfome Advice, given at fundry Times and on divers Occafions. Which Friendflrip continued firm to the lafl. His natural Capacity was large, and his Underfland- ing, in the Things of God, very deep •, which excellent Qualifications meeting in one, rendred him ufeful beyond many to his Country, as well as very ferviceable in the Church •, by both which he is, and will be greatly miffed, But he his gone to his Grave in a full Age, and gathered as a Shock of Corn in its Seafon, having done his Day's- work faithfully : So that Saying may be verified in him, The END crowns all. His Sicknefs was fudden, which foon deprived him of the Ufe of his Limbs •, yet he retained the Faculties of his inward and outward Senfes clear all along ; and not- withflanding at times, his Pains were great, his ex- emplary Patience, and compofed Rcfignalion, was re- markable apparent to thofe that vifiud and attended him ; fo that their Sorrow in parting with fo dear a Friend was intermixed with Comfort in beholding the heavenly Frame of Mind wherewith he was adorned. fThus after all his Labours, he entred into everlaftino- Reft, and left many 1 behind weeping, though not without Hope, that they [hall again meet at the general Afiembly of Saints, where the Redeemed Jhall fing Praifes to their blejjed Redeemer, whofe Right it is to reign for ever. We have this farther to add, namely, That our Efleem of him was great, becaufe of that real Worth that was in him, through the Operation of the mighty Power of the Lord that feparated him from the Love of the World : So that he chofe (with Molts) rather to fuffer Arflic'lion with the People of God, than to enjoy the Pleafures of 22 ^ Testimony, &c. of Sin for a Seafon, and it pleafed the Lord to fit him with Wijbm and Counfel, fo that he was made able to give Judgment in difficult Cafes, wherein many of 'us have par- ticidarly received Benefit, and therefore have Caufe to lament the Lofs we have by his Removal. And oh ! fay cur Souls, 'That the Lord would raife up many more in his Room, to the Praife and Honour of the good Hufband- man. Audit is our Defire that we, who are yet behind, may be made able f& to fleer our Courfe through this trou- blefome World, that when our End comes, we may lay down our Heads in Peace with the Lord, and leave a gcod Savour behind us, as this our Friend hath done. This is written in true Love and RefpecJ to the Memory of our deceafed Friend, as it plea fed the Lord to move upon our Hearts, And being read and approved in our "Womens-meeting «/ Hungerhill, the 4th of the eleventh Month 1 7 1 3, was fubfcribed in Behalf of the faid Meet- ing by us, Mary Baker, Mary Wharley, Mary Larcum. Concerni ug t =3 J Concerning our dear Friend Thomas Ellwood, of Hunger-bill. HE was much efleemed amongft good Men : Good Men, in their Day and Station upon the Earth, reprefent Him who made all 'Things good in the Beginning, who [aid, Gen. i. 3. Let there be Light, and there was Light. Andalfofaid, ver. 26. Let us make Man in our Image, after our Likenefs. Oh, high Favour! So God created Man in His own Image, in the Image of God created He him •, Male and Female created He them, ver. 27, and bleffedthem, and gave them Domi- nion under Himfelf ; for He was chief Commander then ; andfo He iswitneffed to be now, where His heavenly Image is come into again, and Men live in it, as did this our dear Friend, who did Good in his Day and Generation : Counfel waswith him, to give to fuch as needed, and did apply to him: He was of a tender Spirit, and had Domi- nion over Paflion, over Pride, and over Covetoufnefs : So he was comfortable to, and in his Family. He was amiable in the Church of Chrift, and a Doer of Good amongfl his Neighbours. And being an Elder amongft, and with the Elders, he hath not only obtained a good Report, but alfo the Bl effing in the promifed Seed, which bruifes the Serpent's Head. He was valiant m fuffe ring for his Teftimony which he held in the Truth ; and may not I fay, unwearied in his Labours for the Jetting forth the Fame and Excellency of it : Whereby we jee what the Truth makes Men to be, w/jv do come under the Conduit and Power of it ; even as fixed Stars in the Firmament of His divine Power, who has caufed the Morning of His heavenly and glorious Gofpel-day to break forth ; and as with the Day that fprings irom high, in tender Mercy hath He vifited many Souls. And early did this our worthy deceafed Friend embrace it, as it appears by his Tejlimony concerning that eminent and bleffed Mejfenger and Minifter of the Go/pel, George Fox. And 24 Eliz. Richardfon'j Testimony. And now, he having endured the Times of Proving* and the Days of Tribulation and Suffering, together with the Perils and Slights, and Undervaluings of falfe Brethren, againji whofe ungodly Work he was engaged to fland as a noble Warrior, in the Defence of, and for the glorious Gofpel of Chrifi : Not admiring Mens Per- fons, but the Work of the Gofpel-power. And although he was endowed with Parts and Accomplijhments above many, he was humble and grave ; not Self-feeking, but efieeming the Power of Truth, though it did appear through mean Inftruments. He was honourable, and honoured, for that he fought not his own Honour, but the Honour of Truth ; not only by his Sufferings for it, and Labours in it, but alfo, in (landing firmly againfi the loofe libertine Ones, who would have thrufi in amongfl the Lambs and Flock of Chrifi, in an unclean adulterating Spirit, from the Life of the true Shep- herd, and heavenly Hit found, Chrifi Jejus : But to the tender hearted, and fincere minded, he was flrength- ening and comfortable. I knew him when I was but young, and I can truly fay, my Heart has often been affecled, on his Behalf, with Thankfulnefs to the Lord, who made him as a flrong Pillar, in His fpiritual Houfe, with many more of His dear Servants and Chil- dren, who fiall no more go out. His Memory is in my Heart efleemed beyond what I can write. Oh furely ! The Righteous fhall be had in everlafting Remem- brance, Pfal cxii. 6. And they that be wife, fhall fhine as the Brightnefs of the Firmament: And they that turn .many to Righteoufnefs, as the Stars for ever and ever, Dan. xii. 3. jaSKfttt . Eliz ' Richardson. Month, 1713. [ xxv 1 Richard Vivers his Teftimony concerning Thomas Ellwood. HE was d Man of great TVifdom and Undemand- ing, and the Lord, the Giver of it, being pleafed to vifit him in his early Days, made Choice of him, and by the Sanclification of His holy Spirit, fitted and prepared him for His Work and Service, where- unto he was called. And alt ho* he did not often appear as a Minifter, yet in thcfe Meetings fet apart for the Affairs of Truth, he often appeared in great Wiidom, having an extraordinary Talent given of the Lord for that Work, more than many other Brethren -, and faithful he was in waiting for Inftrutlion from God, to improve the fame to His Glory, and the Churches Advantage ; for nothing was more deferable to him, than to be employed in the Lord's Service : So it pleafed the Almighty to furnifh him with Understanding and Strength, faithfully to do his Days-work. And now He hath taken him to Himfelf, where his Soul is at Refi ; and alt ho* our Lofs be his Gain, therein I with many more are greatly comforted, for I can truly fay, I loved him, in the Truth, from the firfi of my Acquaintance with him, and fo it remained to the jEnd of his Courfe, being near forty Tears fince we knew each other : And whenever we converfed together, our Difcourfe was chiefly concerning heavenly Things, and the Affairs of the Church -, and I always thought my Time well fpent with him, although Opportunity would not ferve for fo much of it as I defired, had it been the Will of God. C And xxvi Richard Vivers his Teftimony, &c. And this 1 can fay, according to my Obfervation, He was a Man true to bis Friend, and deliberate in the Choice of his Acquaintance, to whom he fhewed real Love and Sincerity of Heart. And he was one of a fteady and found Judgment, as to the Things of God ; often deftring, that thofe who came amongfl us, efpecially Children of believing Parents, might not fettle down only in a Form of Godlinefs, without the Power (at which Door the Apoftacy entred) but that they might be raifed up to walk in that, wherein the Saints Fellow- fhip doth ftand, which is the Light of our Lord Jefus Chrift, enlightening every Man that cometh into the World : And then the ancient Ttftimony of Truth will be more and more raifed up in their Hearts, and they being preferved of the Lord in it, it will more be maintained in its feveral Branches, as in former Days. Bleffed be the Name of the Lord, who hath a People in thefe latter Ages of the World, to whom He hath given Power to ft and for His Truth, whilft on Earth, and to be tender of the Honour of His Name ; of the Number of whom, this our deceafed Friend and Brother was ; who, altho 1 dead, yet his Memory liveth, and will be preftrved amongft the Righteous in Generations yet to come. Anbury the 30th of the? R T r W A R D VlVFfcC Eleventh Month 1714. J IVICHAKD V 1 V fc K ~. THE [ I ] i < ' ' . . . . " •"* THE HISTORY OF THE LIFE O F Thomas El J wood, ALTHOUGH my Station not being ib eminent either in the Church of Chrift, or in the World, as others who have moved in higher Orbs, may not afford fuch confiderable Remarks as theirs ; yet, in- gfmuch as in the Courfe of my Travels through this Vale of Tears, I have patted through vari- ous, and fome uncommon Exercifes, which the Lord hath been gracioufly pleafed to fupport me under, and conduct me through ; I hold it a matter excufable at lead, if not com- mendable, to give the World fome little Ac- count of my Life, that in recounting the many Deliverances and Prefervations, which the Lord hath vouchfafed to work for me, both I, by a C 2 grateful 2 ?i. :e H I S T O R Y grateful Acknowledgment thereof, and Return t-V J of Thankfgivings unto Him therefor, may in fome meafure let forth His abundant Goodcefs to me ; and others, whofe Lot it may be to tread the fame Path, and fall into the fame or like Exercifes, may be encouraged to perfevere in the Way of Holinefs, and, with full AlTurance of Mind, to truft in the Lord, whatfoever Trials may befall them. 1639. To begin therefore with mine own Begin- Uy^i ning. I was born in the Year of our Lord 1639, about the Beginning of the eighth Month, (fo rar as I have been able to inform myfelf ) for the Parilh Regifter, which relates to the Time (not of Birth, but) of Baptifm, as they call it, is not to be relied on. The Place of my Birth was a little Country- town called Crowe/I, fituate in the upper Side of OxfordjlAre, three Miles Eaft-ward from Thame the neareft Market-town. My Father's Name was Walter Elhvcod ; and my Mother's Maiden-name was Elizabeth Pot- man ; both well defcended, but of declining Families. So that what my Father poflciTed (which was a pretty Eftate in Lands, and more as I have heard in Monies) he received, as he had done his Name Walter, from his Grand- father Walter Gray, whofe Daughter and only Child was his Mother. 1 641. In my very Infancy, when I was but about t-v^ two Years old, I was carried to London, For the Civil War, between King and Parliament breaking then forth, my Father, who favoured the 0/ T. Ellwood's LIFE. the Parliament-fide, though he took not Arms, 1641. not holding himfelf fafe at his Country Habita- HH tion, which lay too near fome Garrifons of the King's, betook himfelf to London, that City then holding for the Parliament. There was I bred up, though not without much Difficulty, the City-Air not agreeing with my tender Conftitution, and there con- tinued until Oxford was furrendred, and the War in Appearance ended. In this Time, my Parents contracted an Ac- quaintance and intimate Friendfhip with the Lady Springett, who being then >he Widow of Sir William Sprmgett, who died in the Parlia- ment Service, was afterwards the Wife of Ifaac Penington, eldeft Son of Alderman Penington of London. And this Friendfhip devolving fiom the Parents to the Children, I became an early and particular Play-fellow to her Daughter Gulielma ; being admitted, as fuch, to ride with her in her little Coach, drawn by her Footman about Lincoln' 's- Inn-Fields. I mention this in this Place, becaufe the Con- tinuation of that Acquaintance and Friendfhip, having been an occasional Means of my being afterwards brought to the Knowledge of the blefTed Truth, I mail have frequent Caufe, in the Courfe of the following Difcourfe, to make honourable Mention of that Family, to which I am under fo many and great Obli- gations. Soon after the Surrender of Oxford, my Fa- 1646. ther returned to his Eftate at Crowell-, which <*\~* C 3 by 4 The H I S T O R Y r_ 1646. by that Time he might have Need enough to C *V-' look after, having fpent, I fuppofe, the greateft Part of the Monies which had been left him by his Grandfather, in maintaining himfelf and his Family at an high Rate in London. My elder Brother (for I had one Brother and two Sifters, all elder than myfelf) was, while we lived in London, boarded at a private School, in the Houfe of one Francis Atkinfon, at a Place called Hadley near Barnet in Hertford^ frire, where he had made fome good Profi- ciency in the Latin and French Tongues. But after we had left the City, and were refettled in the Country, he was taken from that private School, and fent to the Free-fchool at Thame in Oxford/hire. Thither alfo was I fent, as foon as my ten- der Age would permit ; for I was indeed but young when I went, and yet feemed younger than I was, by reafon of my low and little Stature. For it was held, for fome Years a doubtful Point, whether I mould not have proved a Dwarf. But after I was arrived to the fifteenth Year of my Age, or thereabouts, I began to fhoot up, and gave not over growing til! I had attained the middle Size and Stature pf Men. At this School, which at that Time was in good Reputation, I profited apace, having then a natural Propenfity to Learning ; 10 that at the firft reading over of my LeiTon, I com- monly made myfelf Mailer of it : And yet, \vhich is il range to think of, few Boys in the School 0/T. Ellwood's LIFE. School wore out more Birch than I. For tho' I was never, that I remember, whipt upon the W° Score of not having my LefTon ready, or of not faying it well ; yet being a little bufy Boy, full of Spirit, of a working Head and active Hand, J could not eafily conform myfelf to the grave and fober Rules, and, as I then thought, fevere Orders of the School ; but was often playing one waggifh Prank or other among my Fellow- fcholars, which fubjecled me to Correction, fo that I have come under the Difcipline of the Rod twice in a Forenoon ; which yet brake no Bones. Had I been continued at this School, and in due Time preferred to an higher, I might in likelihood have been a Scholar ; for I was ob- ferved to have a Genius apt to learn. But my Father having, fo foon as the Republican Government began to fettle, accepted the Office of a JuiHce of the Peace (which was no way beneficial, but meerly honorary, and every way expenfive) and put himfelf into a Port and Courfe of Living agreeable thereunto ; and having aifo removed my Brother from tfhame School to Merton College mOxford, and entred him there in the higheft and mod chargeable Condition of a Fellow-Commoner ■, he found it needful to retrench his Expences elfewhere j the Hurt of which fell upon me. For he there- upon took me from School, to fave the Charge of maintaining me there ; which was fomewhat like plucking green Fruit from the Tree, and laying it by before it was come to its due Ripe- C 4 ncfs, The HISTORY nefs, which will thenceforth (brink and wither, ^y° and loofe that little Juice and Relifh which it began to have. Even fo it fared with me. For being taken home when I was but young, and before I was well fettled in my Studies, (though I had made a good Progrefs in the Latin Tongue, and was entred in the Greek) being left too much to myfelf, to ply or play with my Books, or without them, as I pleafed, I foon (hook Hands with my Books, by fhaking my Books out of my Hands, and laying them, by degrees, quite afide, and addicted myfelf to iuch youthful Sports and Pleafures as the Place afforded, and my Condition could reach unto. By this Means, in a little Time, I began to lofe that little Learning I had acquired at School ; and, by a continued Difufe of my Books, became at length fo utterly a Stranger to Learning, that I could not have read, far lefs have underftood, a Sentence in Latin. Which I was fo fenfible of, that I warily avoided read- ing to other?, even in an EnglifJj Book, left, if I fhould meet with a Latin Word, I mould fhame myfelf by mifpronouncing it. Thus I went on, taking my Swing in fuch vain Courfes as were accounted harmlefs Recre- ations j entertaining my Companions and fa- miliar Acquaintance, with pleafant Difcourfes in our Converfations, bv the meer Force of Mother-wit and natural Parts, without the Help of fchool Cultivation j and was accounted good Company too. But Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 7 But I always forted myfelf with Pcrfons of Ingenuity, Temperance and Sobriety -, for I «-y°, loathed Scurrilities in Converfation, and had a natural Averfion to immoderate Drinking. So that in the Time of my greater!: Vanity, I was preferved from Prophanenefs, and the grofTer Evils of the World ; which render'd me accept- able to Perfons of the beft Note in that Coun- try then. I ofcen waited on the Lord Wenman y at his Houfe Tbame-Par.k, about two Miles from Crowell where I lived j to whofe Favour I held myfelf intituled in a two- fold Refpecl, both as my Mother was nearly related to his Lady, and as he had been pleafed to beftow his Name upon me, when he made large Promifes for me at the Font. He was a Perfon of great Honour and Virtue, and always gave me a kind Reception at his Table, how often foever I came. And I have Caufe to think, I mould have received from this Lord fome advantage- ous Preferment in this World, as foon as he had found me capable of it (though betwixt him and my Father there was not then fo good an Underftanding as might have been wifh'd) had I not been, in a little Time after, called into the Service of the beft and higheft Lord; and there- by loft the Favour of all my Friends, Relations and Acquaintance of this World. To the Ac- count ot which moll happy Exchange I haften, and therefore willingly pafs over many Parti- cularities of my youthful Life. Yet one Paf- fage I am willing to mention, for the EffecT: it had upon me afterwards, which was thus : My 8 7&? HISTORY m~mm i^ ^— mme* ^— — ■ ■ ■ ■■■ »■ " ■ ■ - . n . M , ,. 1657. My Father being then in the Commiflion W"° of the Peace, and going to a Petty Seffions at Watlingtorty I waited on him thither. And when we came near the Town, the Coachman feeing a nearer and eafier Way (than the com- mon Road) through a Corn-field, and that it was wide enough for the Wheels to run, with- out endamaging the Corn, turned down there. Which being obferved by an Hufbandman, who was at plow not far off, he ran to us, and flopping the Coach, poured forth a Mouthful of Complaints, in none of the beft Language, for driving over the Corn. My Father mildly anfwered him, That if there was an Offence committed, he mufl rather impute it to his Servant ■, than himfelf '; fince he neither directed him to drive that 1Vay y nor knew which Way he drove. Yet added, that he was going to fuch an Inn at the Town ; whither if he came, he would make him full Satisfaction for whatfoever Damage he had fuftained thereby. And fo on we went, the Man venting his Difcontent, as he went back, in angry Accents. At the Town, upon Enquiry, we underftood that it was a Way often ufed, and without Damage, being broad enough ; but that it was not the common Road, which yet lay not far from it, and was alfo good enough ; wherefore my Father bid his Man drive home that W T ay. It was late in the Evening when we return- ed, and very dark ; and this quarreifome Man, who had troubled himfelf and us in the Morn- iR ". Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. ing, having gotten another lufty Fellow, like 1657. himfelf, to afTiit him, way-lay 'd us in the ^V* Night, expecting we would return the fame Way we came. But when they found we did not, but took the common Way, they angry that they were difappointed, and loth to lofe their Purpofe, (which was to put an Abufe upon us) ccaftcd over to us in the dark, and lay- ing hold on the Horfes Bridles, flopt them from going on. My Father afking his Man, what the Reafon was that he went not on, was an- fwered, That there 'were two Men at the Horfes Heads > who held them back y and would not fuffer them to go forward. Whereupon my Father opening the Boot, ftept out, and I followed clofe at his Heels. Going up to the Place where the Men flood, he demanded of them the Reafon of this AfTault. They faid, H r e were upon the Corn. We knew, by the Routs, we were not on the Corn, but in the common Way, and told them fo. But they told us, They were refohed they would not let us go on any farther \ but would make us go back again. My Father endeavoured, by gentle Reafoning, to perfwade them to forbear, and not run themfelves farther into the Danger of the Law, which they were run too far into already ; but they rather derided him for it. Seeing therefore fair Means would not work upon them, he fpake more roughly to them, charging them to deliver their Clubs (for each of them had a great Club in his Hand, fomewhat like thofe which are called Quarter- Staves.) They thereupon, laughing, told him, They 10 fie HISTORY 1657.^5^ did not bring them thither for that End. W° Thereupon my Father, turning his Head to me, fa id, Tom, difarm them. I flood ready at his Elbow, waiting only for the Word of Command. For being naturally of a bold Spirit, full then of youthful Heat, and that too heightned by the Senfe I had, not only of the Abufe, but infolent Behaviour of thofe rude Fellows ; my Blood began to boil, and my Fingers itch'd, as the Saying is, to be dealing with them. Wherefore ftepping boldly forward, to lay hold on the Staff of him that was neareft to me, I faid, Sirrah, deliver your Weapon. He thereupon railed his Club, which was big enough to have knockt down an Ox, intending no doubt to have knockt me down with it, as probably he would have done, had I not, in the Twinkling of an Eye, whipt out my Rapier and made a Pafs upon him. I could not have failed running of him through up to the Hilt> had he flood his Ground ; but the fuddain and unexpected Sight of my bright Blade, glittering in the dark Night, did fo a- maze and terrify the Man, that flipping afide, he avoided my Thruft j and letting his Staff fink, betook himfelf to his Heels for Safety, which his Companion feeing, fled alfo. I fol- lowed the former as fa ft as I could, but Timor addidit Alas, Fear gave him Wings, and made him fwiftly fly ; fo that although I was account- ed very nimble, yet the farther we ran, the more Ground he gain'd on me, fo that I could not overtake him 5 which made me think he took Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. n ■i — m took Shelter under fome Bufh, which he knew 1657. where to find, though I did not. Mean while W*^ the Coachman, who had fufficiently the Outfide of a Man, excus'd himfelf from intermedling, under Pretence that he durft not leave his Horfes, and fo left me to fhift for myfelf. And I was gone fo far beyond my Knowledge, that I underftood not which Way I was to go, till by hollowing, and being hollowed to again, I was directed where to find my Company. We had eafy Means to have found out who thefe Men were (the principal of them having been in the Day-time at the Inn, and both quarrelled with the Coachman, and threatned to be even with him when he went back ;) but fince they came off no better in their Attempt, my Father thought it better not to know them, than to oblige himfelf to a Profecution of them. At that Time, and for a good while after, I had no P^egret upon my Mind for what I had done, and defigned to have done, in this Cafe j but went on, in a fort of Bravery, refolving to kill, if I could, any Man that mould make the like Attempt, or put any Affront upon us ; and for that Reafon, feldom went afterwards upon thofe publick Services, without a loaded Piitol in my Pocket. But when it pleafed the Lord, in Plis infinite Goodnefs, to call me out of the Spirit and Ways of the World, and give me the Knowledge of His faving Truth, where- by the Actions of my fore-paft Life were fet in Order before me ; a fort of Horror feized on me, when I conlidered how near I had been to the 12 *& HISTORY ■ ■ ■ - ■ i ■ i - nir- 1657. the ftaining of my Hands with human Blood. W° And whenfoever afterwards I went that Way, and indeed as often fince as the Matter has come into my Remembrance, my Soul has bleffed the Lord for my Deliverance, and Tbankfgivings and Praifes have arifen in my Heart (as now, at the relating of it, they do) to Him who pre- ferved and with-held me from fhedding Man's Blood. Which is the Reafon, for which I have given this Account of that Action, that others may be warned by it. 1658. About this Time my dear and honoured Uy-o Mother, who was indeed a Woman of lingular Worth and Virtue, departed this Life, having a little before heard of the Death of her eldeft Son ; who (falling under theDifpleafure of my Father, for refufing to refign his Intereft in an Eftate which my Father fold, and thereupon defiring that he might have Leave to travel, in hopes that Time and Abfence might work a Reconci- liation) went into Ireland with a Perfon power- ful there in thofe Times, by whofe Means he was quickly preferred to a Place of Truff. and Profit, but lived not long to enjoy it. I mentioned before, that during my Father's Abode in London, in the Time of the Civil Wars, he contracted a Friendfhip with the Lady Sprin- gett^ then a Widow, and afterwards married to Ifaac Penington, Efq; to continue which, he fometimes vifited them at their Country Lodg- ings, as at Datchet, and at Canfoam Lodge near Reading. And having heard, that they were come to live upon their own Eftate at Chaljont in Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 13 in Buckinghamfhire^ about fifteen Miles from 1659. Crowell, he went one Day to vifit them there, and to return at Night, taking me with him. But very much furprized we were, when, being come thither, we firft heard, then found, they were become Quakers ; a People we had no Knowledge of, and a Name we had, till then, fcarce heard of. So great a Change from a free, debonair and courtly fort of Behaviour, which we for- merly had found them in, to fo ftrid: a Gravity as they now received us with, did not a little amufe us, and difappoint our Expectation of fuch a pieafant Vifit as we ufed to have, and had now promifed ourfelves. Nor could my Father have any Opportunity, by a private Con- ference with them, to underftand the Ground or Occafion of this Change, there being fome other Strangers with them (related to Ifaac Peningtcn) who came that Morning from London to vifit them alfo. For my part I fought, and at length found Means to caft myfelf into the Company of the Daughter, whom I found gathering fome Flow- ers in the Garden, attended by her Maid who was alfo a Quaker. But when I addreffed myfelf to her after my accuftomed Manner, with Intention to engage her in fome Difcourfe, which might introduce Converfation, on the Foot of our former Acquaintance ; though fhe treated me with a courteous Mein, yet, as young as (lie was, the Gravity of her L00I5 and Behaviour flruck fuch an Awe upon me, that i 4 '^HISTORY , _ 5 — , , 1659. that I found myfelf not fo much Mafter of *V° myfelf, as to purfue any further Converge with her. Wherefore afking Pardon for my Boldnefs, in having intruded myfelf into her private Walks, I withdrew, not without fome Diforder (as I thought at leaft) of Mind. We ftaid Dinner, which was very handfome, and lacked nothing to recommend it to me, but the want of Mirth and pleafant Difcourfe, which we could neither have with them, nor, by reafon of them, with one another amongft ourfelves ; the Weightinefs that was upon their Spirits and Countenances, keeping down the Lightnefs that would have been up in us. We ftaid notwithstanding till the red: of the Com- pany took Leave of them, and then we alfo, doing the fame, returned, not greatly fatisfied with our Journey, nor knowing what in par- ticular to find Fault with. Yet this good EfTecl that Vifit had upon my Father, who was then in the Commiffion for the Peace, that it difpofed him to a more fa- vourable Opinion of, and Carriage towards thofe People when they came in bis Way ; as not long after one of them did. For a young Man, who lived in Buckingham/hire, came on a Firft- day to the Church (io called) at a Town called CMnnef, a Mile from Crowe II, having it fe ems, a PrefTure on his Mind to fay fcmething to the Pvlinifter of that Parifh. He being an Acquain- tance of mine, drew me fometimes to hear him, as it did then. The young Man flood in |he Jfle before the Pulpit, all the Time of the Sermon, Of T. Ell wood's LI F E. i$ «/* .I. - , i Sermon, not fpeaking a Word till the Sermon 1659* and Prayer after it was ended ; and then fpake ^HP* a few Words to the Prieft. Of which, all that I could hear was, That the Prayer of the Wicked is Abomination to the Lord-, and that God hear cth not Sinners. Somewhat more, I think, he did fay, which I could not diftinctly hear for the Noile the People made ; and more probably he would have faid, had he ,not been interrupted by the Officers who took him into Cuftody, and led him out in order to carry him before my Father. When I underftood that, I haftened home, that I might give my Father a fair Account of the Matter before they came. I told him the young Man behaved himfelf quietly and peace- ably, fpake not a Word till the Minifter had quite done his Service ; and that what he then fpake was but fhort, and was delivered with- out Paffion or ill Language. This I knew would furnifh my Father with a fair Ground* whereon to difcharge the Man if he would* And accordingly when they came, and made an high Complaint againft the Man (who faid little for himfelf) my Father having examin- ed the Officers who brought hirr^ what the Words that he fpake were ? (which they did not well agree in) and at what lime he fpake them ? (which they all agreed to be after thr Minifter had done) and then, whether he p;avc the Minifter any reviling Language, or endea- voured to raife a Tumult among the People D (v/i ; / a 16 Tfc* HISTORY 1659. (which they could not charge him with j) not W^ finding that he had broken the Law, he coun- felled the young Man to be careful that he did not make or occafion any publick Disturbances ; and fo difmified him. Which I was glad of. Some Time after this, my Father having got- ten fome further Account of the People called Quakers, and being defirous to be informed con- cerning their Principles, made another Vifit to Ifaac Benington and his Wife, at their Houfe called the Grange in Peter s Chalfont, and took both my Sifters and me with him. It was in the tenth Month, in the Year 1659, that we went thither, where we found a very kind Reception, and tarried fome Days ; one Day at leaft the longer, for that, while we were there, a Meeting was appointed at a Place about a Mile from thence, to which we were invited to go, and willingly went. It was held in a Farm-houfe called The Grove ', which having formerly been a Gen- tleman's Seat, had a very large Hall, and that well filled. To this Meeting came Edward Burroughs befides other Preachers, as Thomas Curtis and James Nailer ; but none fpake there at that Time but Edward Burrough. Next to whom (as it were under him) it was my Lot to fit on a Stool by the Side of a long Table on which he fate, and I drank in his Words with De- fire ; for they not only anfwered my Under- standing, but warmed my Heart with a cer- tain Of T. Ell wood's LI F E. ij tain Heat, which I had not till then felt from 1659. the Miniftry of any Man. *T*. When the Meeting was ended, our Friends took us home with them again -, and after Sup- per, the Evenings being long, the Servants of the Family, who were Quakers, were called in, and we all fate down in Silence. But long we had not fo fate before Edward Bur rough began to fpeak among us. And although he fpake not long, yet what he faid did touch, as I fup- pofe, my Father's (religious) Copy-hold, as the Phrafe is. And h^ having been from his Youth a Profeffor (though not join'd in that which is call'd clofe Communion with any ono Sort) and valuing himfelf upon the Knowledge he efteemed himfelf to have, in the various No- tions of each Profeffion, thought he had now a fair Opportunity to difplay his Knowledge, and thereupon began to make Objections againft what had been delivered. The Subject of the Difcourfe was, The uni- verjal free Grace of God to all Mankind. To which he oppofed the Cahinifiical Tenet of particular and perfonal Predejlination. In De- fence of which indefenftble Notion, he found himfelf more at a Lois than he expected. Ed- ward Burrougb faid not much to him upon it, though what he faid was clofe and cogent. But fames Nailor interpofing, handled the Subject with fo much Perfpicuity and clear Demon- ftration, that his Reafoning feemed to be irre- liflible ; and fo I fuppofe my Father found it, which made him wiliingjlo drop the Difcourfe. D 2 As 18 *&? HISTORY 1659. As for Edward Burroughs he was a brifk **¥** young Man, of a ready Tongue, and might have been, for ought 1 then knew, a Scholar, which made me the lefs to admire his Way of Reafoning. But what dropt from James Nailor had the greater Force upon me, becaufe he look'd but like a plain fimple Country-man, having the Appearance of an Hufbandman or a Shepherd. As my Father was not able to maintain the Argument on his Side ; fo neither did they feem willing to drive it on to an Extremity on their Side. But treating him in a foft and gentle Manner, did after a while let fall the Difcourfe, and then we withdrew to our re» fpective Chambers. The next Morning we prepared to return home (that is, my Father, my younger Siller, and myfelf ; for my elder Sifter was gone be- fore by the Stage Coach to London) and when, having taken our Leaves of our Friends, we went forth ; they, with Edward Burroughs ac- companying us to the Gate, he there directed his Speech in a few Words to each of us feve- rally, according to the Senfe he had of our feveral Conditions. And when we were gone off, and they gone in again, they afking him what he thought of us ? he anfwered them, (as they afterwards told toe) to this Effect ; As for the old Man, he is fettled on his Lees , and the young Woman is light and airy ; but the young Man is reach 'd, and may do well if he dent loje it. And furely that which he faid to me, or rather Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 19 rather that Spirit in which he (pake it, took 1659. fuch faft hold on me, that I felt Sadnefs and W^ Trouble come over me, though I did not di- stinctly underftand what I was troubled for. I knew not what I ailed, but I knew I ailed fomething more than ordinary, and my Heart was very heavy. I found it was not fo with my Father and Sifter ; for as I rode after the Coach, I could hear them talk pleafantly one to the other, but they could not difcern how it was with me, becaufe I, riding on Horfoack, kept much out of Sight. By that Time we got home it was Night. And the next Day, being the Firft-day of the Week, I went in the Afternoon to hear the Miniiier of Chinncr ; and this was the laft Time I ever went to hear any of that Function. After the Sermon I went with him to his Houfe, and in a Freedom of Difcourfe (which, from a cer- tain Intimacy that was between us, I com- monly ufed with him) told him where I had been, what Company I had met with there, and what Obfervations I had made to myfelf thereupon. He feemed to underftand as little of them as I had done before, and civilly ab- ftained from calling any unhandfome Reflec- tions on them. I had a Defire to go to another Meeting of the Quakers, and bid my Father's Man enquire, if there was any in the Country thereabouts ? He thereupon told me, he had heard at lfaac D 3 Pen- 20 The H I S T O R Y 1659. Peningtons, that there was to be a Meeting at ^-V High-lViccomb on Thurfday next. Thither therefore I went, though it was feven Miles from me. And that I might be rather thought to go out a Courfing, than to a Meeting, I let my Greyhound run by my Horfe-fide. When I came there, and had fet up my Horie at an Inn, I was at a Lofs how to find the Houfe where the Meeting was to be. I knew it not, and was afhamed to afk after it. Wherefore having order'd the Horfiler to take Care of my Dog, I went into the Street and flood at the Inn-gate, muling with myfelf what Courfe to take. But I had not flood long, e're I faw an Horfeman riding along the Street, whom I remember'd I had feen before at Jfaac PeningtonSy and he put up his Horfe at the fame Inn. Him therefore I refolved to follow, fuppofing he was going to the Meet- ing, as indeed he was. Being come to the Houfe, which proved to be John Rauncis, I faw the People fitting to- gether in an outer Room j wherefore I ftept in and fate down on the firft void Seat, the End of a Bench juft within the Door, having my Sword by my Side and black Cloaths on, which drew fome Eyes upon me. It was not long e're one flood up and fpake, whom I was afterwards well acquainted with, his Name Mas Samuel Thornton ; and what he fpake was veryjuitable and of good Service to me, for it Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 21 11 ....-- it reached home as if it had been directed 1659. to me. C 'V J As Toon as ever the Meeting was ended, and the People began to rife, I being next the Door ftept out quickly, and haftning to my Inn took Horfe immediately homewards ; and (fo far as I remember) my having being gone was not taken Notice of by my Father, This latter Meeting was like the clinching of a Nail ; confirming, and fattening in my Mind, thofe good Principles which had funk into me at the former. My Undemanding be- gan to open, and I felt fome Stirrings in my Bread:, tending to the Work of a new Cre- ation in me. The general Trouble and Confu- fion of Mind, which had for fome Days lain heavy upon me, and prefTed me down, with- out a diftincl: Difcovery of the particular Caufe for which it came, began now to wear off, and fome Glimmerings of Light began to break forth in me, which let me fee my inward State and Condition towards God. The Light, which before had (hone in my Darknefs, and the Darknefs could not comprehend it, began now to mine out of Darknefs, and in fome meafure difcovered to me, what it was that had before clouded me, and brought that Sad- nefs and Trouble upon me. And now I faw, that although I had been, in a great degree, preferved from the common Immoralities and grofs Pollutions of the World, yet the Spirit of the World had hitherto ruled in me, and led me into Pride, Flattery, Vanity and Super- D 4 fluity The HISTORY 1659-fluity ; all which was naught. I found there <-X-> were many Plants growing in me, which were not of the heavenly Father s planting ; and that all thefe, of whatever fort or kind they were, or how fpecious foever they might appear, mud be plucked up. Now was all my former Life ripped up, and my Sins, by degrees, were fet in Order before me. And though they looked not with fo black a Hue and fo deep a Dye, as thofe of the lewdeft Sort of People did, yet I found that all Sin (even that which had the faireft or fineft Shew, as well as that which was more courfe and foul) brought Guilt, and with and for Guilty Condemnation on the Soul that fin- ned. This I felt, and was greatly bowed down under the Senfe thereof. Now alfo did I receive a new Law, (an /#- ward Law fuperadded to the outward) the Law of the Spirit of Life in Chrifi Jejus y which wrought in me againft all Evil, not only in Deed, and in Word, but even in Thought alfo ; fo that every Thing was brought to Judgment, and Judgment paffed upon all. So that I could not any longer go on in my former Ways and Courfe of Life, for when I did, Judgment took hold upon me for it. Thus the Lord was gracioufly pleafed to deal with me, in fomewhat like manner as He had dealt with His People lfrael of old (when they had tranfgreffed His righteous Law) whom, by His Prophet He called back, re- quired to put away the Evil of their Doings ; bidding Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 23 Mi l - ' J bidding them, firft, Ceafe to do Evil -, then, 1659. Learn to do well ; before He would admit them W^. to reafon with Him j and before He would impart to them the EjfecJs of His free Mercy, Ifa. i. 16, 17. I was now required by this inward and fpiritual Law (the Law of the Spirit of Life in Chrifl Jefus) to put away the Evil of my Doings, and to ceafe to do Evil. And what, in Par- ticulars, the Evil was which I was required to put away, and to ceafe from, that Meafure of the divine Light, which was now mani- fefted in me, difcovered to me j and what the Light made manifeft to be Evil, Judgment pafTed upon. So that here began to be a Way caft up be- fore me, for me to walk in j a direct and plain Way ; fo plain, that a way-faring Man, how weak and fimple foever (though a Fool to the Wifdom, and in the Judgment of the World) could net err, while he continued to walk in it; the Error coining in by his going cut of it. And this Way with refpect to me, I faw was that Meafure of divine Light which was manifefted in me, by which the Evil of my Doings which I was to put away and to ceafe from, was dif- covered to me. By this divine Light then I faw, that though I had not the Evil of the coimnon Uncleannefs, Debauchery, Profanenefs, and Pollutions of the World to put away, becaufe I had, through the great Goodnefs of GO D, and a civil Educa- tion, been preferved out of thofe grower Evils ; yet 24 7&? HISTORY 1659. yet I had many other Evils to put away, and to W° ceafe from ; fome of which were not by the World (which lies in Wickedne/s, 1 Juhn v. 19.) accounted Evils ; but by the Light of Chrift were made manifeft to me to be Evils, and as fuch condemned in me. As particularly, thofe Fruits and Effects of PRIDE, that difcover themfelves in the Vanity and Superfluity of Apparel j which I, as far as my Ability would extend to, took alas, too much Delight in. This Evil of my Doings I was required to put away and ceafe from -, and Judgment lay upon me till I did fo. Where- fore in Obedience to the inward Law (which agreed with the outward, 1 Tim. ii. 9. 1 Pet. iii. 3. 1 Tim. vi. 8. jfam. i. 21.) I took off from my Apparel thofe unneceflary Trimmings of Lace, Ribbands and u/elefs Buttons, which had no real Service, but were fet on only for that which was, by Miftake, called Ornament. And I ceafed to wear Rings. Again, the giving of flattering Titles to Men, between whom and me there was not any Re- lation, to which fuch Titles could be pretend- ed to belong. This was an Evil I had been much addicted to, and was accounted a ready Artift in ; therefore this Evil alfo was I re- quired to put away and ceafe from. So that thenceforward I durft not fay Sir, Mafler, My Lord, Madam (or My Dame) or fay lour Ser- vant, to any one to whom I did not Hand in the real Relation of a Servant ; which I had never done to any. Again, Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 25 Again, RefpcB of Perfons, in uncovering the 1659. Heady and bowing the Knee or Body in Valuta- hr*. ^/o/zj, was a Practice I had been much in the Uie of. And this being one of the vain Cuftoms of the World* introduced by the Spirit of the World, initead of the true Honour, which this is a falfe Reprefentation of, and ufed in Deceit, as a Token oiRefpetl, by Perfons one to another, who bear no real Refpefi one to another. And befides, this being a Type and proper Emblem of that divine Honour which ail ought to pay to Almighty GOD, and which all, of all Sorts, who take upon them the Chriflian Name, ap- pear in when they offer their Prayers to Him, and therefore mould not be given to Men. I found this to be one of thofe Evils which I had been too long doing, therefore I was now re- quired to put it away, and ceafe from it. Again, the corrupt and unfound Form of /peak- ing in the Plural Number to afingle P erf on, TOU to One, inftead of TH U y contrary to the pure, plain, and fngle Language of Truth, TH O U to One, and TO U to more than 0?2e, which had always been ufed by GOD to Men, and Men to GOD, as well as one to another, from the oldeft Record of Time, till corrupt Men, for corrupt Ends, in later and corrupt Times, to flatter, fawn, and work upon the corrupt Nature in Men, brought in that falfe and fenfelefs Way of fpeaking TO U to One ; which hath fince corrupted the modern Languages, and hath grealy debafed the Spirits, and depraved the Manners of Men. This evil Cujloni *6 7& HISTORY 1659. Cujlom I had been as forward in as others, and W° this I was now called out of, and required to ceafe from. Thefe, and many more evil Cuftoms, which had fprung up in the Night of Darknefs, and general Apoftacy from the Truth, and true Religion, were now by the Infhining of this pure Ray of divine Light in my Confcience, gradually difcovered to me to be what I ought to ceafe from, fhun, and ftand a Witnefs againft. But fo fubtilly, and withal fo powerfully did the Enemy work upon the weak Part in me, as to perfwade me that in thefe Things, I ought to make a Difference between my Father and all other Men ; and that therefore, though I did difufe thefe Tokens of Refpecl: to others, yet I ought frill to ufe them towards him, as he was my Father. And fo far did this Wile of his prevail upon me, through a Fear left I mould do amifs, in withdrawing any Sort of Refpecl: or Honour from my Father, which was due unto him, that being thereby beguiled, I continued for a while to demean myfelf in the fame manner towards him, with refpecl: both to La?iguage and Gejiure, as I had always done before. And fo long as I did fo ({landing bare before him, and giving him the accuftom- ed Language) he did not exprefs, whatever he thought, any Dillike of me. But as to myfelf, and the Work begun in me, I found it was not enough for me to ceafe to do Evil ; though that was a good and a great Step. I had another LeiTon before me, which was Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 27 was, to learn to do well ; which I could by no 1659. means do, till I had given up, with full Purpofe W . of Mind, to ceafe from doing Evil. And when I had done that, the Enemy took Advantage of my Weaknefs to miflead me again. For whereas I ought to have waited in the Light, for Direction and Guidance into and in the Way of Well-doing, and not to have moved till the divine Spirit (a Manifestation of which the Lord has been pleafed to give unto me, for me to profit with, or by) the Enemy transform- ing himfelf into the Appearance of an Angel of Light, offered himfelf in that Appearance, to be my Guide and Leader into the Performance of religious Exercifes. And I, not then know- ing the Wiles of Satan, and being eager to be doing feme acceptable Service to God, too readily yielded myfelf to the Conduct of my Enemy, inftead of my Friend. He thereupon humouring the Warmth and Zeal of my Spirit, put me upon religious Per- formances in my own Will, in my own Time, and in my own Strength ; which in themfelves were good, and would have been profitable unto me, and acceptable unto the Lord, if they had been performed in His Will, in His Time, and in the Ability which He gives. But being wrought in the Will of Man, and at the prompting of the evil One, no wonder that it did me Hurt inftead of Good. I read abundantly in the BiUle, and Would fet myfelf Tafks in reading -, enjoyning myfelf to read fo many Chapters, fometimes an whole Book, 2 8 ^HISTORY ■ - ' ■ 1659. Book, or long Epiftle, at a Time. And I i«Y»J thought that Time well fpent, though I was not much the wifer for what I had read, read- ing it too curforily, and without the true Guide, the Holy Spirit, which alone could open the Understanding, and give the true Senfe of what was read. I prayed often, and drew out my Prayers to a great Length j and appointed unto myfelf certain fet Times to pray at, and a certain Num- ber of Prayers to fay in a Day ; yet knew not, mean while, what true Prayer was. Which ftands not in Words, though the Words which are uttered in the Movings of the Holy Spirit, are very available ; but in the breathing of the Soul to the heavenly Father, through the Oper- ation of the Holy Spirit, who maketh Intercejjion fometimes in Words, and fometimes with Sighs and Groans only, which the Lord vouchfafes to hear and anfwer. This Will-•• • ■ ■ • • — — It was not long before the Court adjourned 16^9. to go to Dinner, and that Time I took to go to ^r* the Clerk of the Peace at his Houfe, whom I was weli acquainted with. So foon as I came into the Room where he was, he came and met me, and faluted me after his Manner ; for he had a great Refpect for my Father, and a kind Regard for me. And tho' he was at fir ft fome- what ftartled at my Carriage and Language, yet he treated me very civilly, whithout any Reflection or Shew of Lightnefs. I delivered him the Recognizances which my Father had fent, and having done the Bufinefs I came upon, withdrew, and went to my Inn to refrdh myfelf, and then to return home. But when I was ready to take Horfe, looking out into the Street, I faw two or three Ju ft ices ftanding juft in the Way where I was to ride. This brought a frefh Concern upon me. I knew if they faw me, they would know me 5 and I concluded if they knew me, they would ftop me to enquire after my Father j and I doubted how I mould come off with them. This Doubting brought Weaknefs on me, and that Weaknefs led to Contrivance, how I might avoid this Trial. I knew the City pretty well, and remembred there was a Back-way, which though fomewhat about, would bring me out of Town, without pafTing by thofe Juftices 3 yet loth I was to go that Way. Wherefore I ftaid a pretty Time, in hopes they would have parted Company, or removed to fome other Place out of my Way. But when E 2 I had 34 ^HISTORY 1659 I had waited till I was uneafy for lofing ib ^"Y" much Time, having entred into Reafonings with Flcfh and Blood, the Weaknefs prevailed over me, and away I went the Back-way ; which brought Trouble and Grief upon my Spirit for having fhunned the Crofs. But the Lord looked on me with a tender Eye, and feeing my Heart was right to Him, and that what I had done was meerly through Weaknefs and Fear of falling, and that I was fenfible of my Failing therein, and forry for it, He was gracioufly pleafed to pals it by, and fpeak Peace to me again. So that before I got home, as when I went in the Morning, my Heart was full of breathing Prayer to the Lord, that He would vouchfafe to be with me, and uphold and carry me through that Day's Exer- cife j fo new at my Return in the Evening, my Heart was full of thankful Acknowledgments, and Prailes unto Him for His great Goodnefs and Favour to me, in having thus far preferved, and kept me from falling into any Thing that might have brought Dimonour to His holy Name, which I had now taken on me. But notwithflanding that it was thus with me, and that I found Peace and Acceptance with the Lord in fome good degree, according to my Obedience to the Convictions I had re- ceived by His holy Spirit in me ; yet was not the Vail fo done away, or fully rent, but that there dill remained a Cloud upon my Under- flanding, with refpect to my Carriage towards my Father. And that Notion which the Enemy had Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 35 had brought into my Mind, that 1 ought to put 1609. fuch a Difference between hi?n and all others, as ^Y that j on the % Account of paternal Relation, IJJjould ft ill deport myfelf toivards him, both in Ge/lure and Language, as I had always heretofore done ; did yet prevail with me. So that when I came home, I went to my Father bare-headed as I ufed to do, and gave him a particular Account of the Bufmefs he had given me in Command, in fuch manner, that he obferving no Alteration, in my Carriage towards him, found no Caufe to take Offence at me. I had felt for fome Time before, an earned: Defire of Mind to go again to Jfiac Peningtons. And I began to queftion whether, when my Father mould come (as I concluded e're long he would) to underftand I enclined to fettle among the People called Quakers, he would per- mit me the Command of his Horfes as before. Wherefore, in the Morning when I went to Oxford, I gave Direction to a Servant of his, to go that Day to a Gentleman of my Acquaint- ance, who I knew had a riding Nag to put off either by Sale, or to be kept for his Work, and defire him, in my Name, to fend him to me ; which he did, and I found him in the Stable when I came home. On this Nag I defigned to ride next Day to lfaac Peningtons j and in order thereunto, arofe betimes and got myfelf ready for the Journey. But becaufe I would pay all due Reipecls to my Father, and not go without his Confent, or Knowledge at the lea ft, I fent one up to him E 3 (for 36 The H I S T O R Y 1659. (for he was not yet ftining) to acquaint him, W^ Lhat 1 had a Purpofe to go to Ifaac Peningtons ; and defiied to know if he pleafed to command me any Service to them. He fent me Word, He would /peak with me before I went, and would have me come up to him -, which I did, and flood by his Bed-fide. Then in a mild and gentle Tone he faid, J* tinder jl and you have a Mind to go to Mr. Pening- ton's. I anfwered, I have fo. Why, faid he, I wonder why you Jhculd. You were there, you know, but a few Days ago, and unlefs you had Bufinefs with them, dont you think it will look odly f I laid, I thought not. 1 doubt, faid he, You'll tire them with your Company, and make them think they pall be troubled with ycu. If, replied I, I find any Thing of that, I'll make the fhorter Stay. But, faid he, can you fropofe any fort of Bufinefs with them, more than a meet Vifit f Yes, faid I, J propofe to myfelf not only to fee them, but to have fome Difcourfe with them. Why, faid he, in a Tone a little harfher, / hope you don't encline to be of their Way. Truly, anfwered I, J like them and their Way very well, fo far as J yet understand it ; and I am willing to go to them, that I may underfland it better. Thereupon he began to reckon up a Bead- roll of Faults againft the Quakers ; telling me They were a rude unmannerly People, that would not give civil Refpecl or Honour to their Superi- or?, no not to Magift rates -, that they held many dangerous Principles ; that they were an immode/l, Jhamelcfs People 5 and that one of them ftript Liwfif Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 37 bimfclf ftark naked, and went in that unfeemly 1659. manner about the Streets, at Fairs, and on Mar- U Y* J ket-days in great Towns. To all the other Charges, I aniwered only, That perhaps they might be either miireported or mifundcrftood, as the belt of People had fometimes been. But to the laft Charge, of going naked, a particular Anfwer, by way of Inftance, was juft then brought into my Mind, and put into my Mouth, which I had not thought of before ; and that was the Example of Ifaiaby who went Naked among the People for a long Time, (Tfa. xx. 4J Aye, faid my Father, but you muji confider that he was a Pro- phet of the Lord, and had an exprefs Command from God to go fo. Yes, Sir, replied I, I do con- fider that j but I confider alfo, that the Jews among whom he lived, did not own him for a Prophet, nor believe that he had fuch a Com- mand from God. And, added I, how know we but that this Quaker may be a Prophet too, and might be commanded to do as he did, for fome Reafon which we uiiderfland not ? This put my Father to a ftand ; fo that let- ting fall his Charges againfr. the Quakers, he only faid, I would wi/h you not to go fo foon, but take a Utile Time to confider of it ; you may vi/it Mr. Penington hereafter. Nay, Sir, replied I, pray don't hinder my going new, for I have fo ffcrong a Deftre to go, that I do not well know how to forbear. And as I fpake thofe Words, I withdrew gently to the Chamber-door, and then haftning down Stairs, went immediately E 4 to s 8 The H I S T O P. Y 1659. to the Stable, where finding my Horfe ready .^H bridled, I forthwith mounted and went off, left I mould receive a Countermand. This Difcourfe with my Father had caft me fomewhat back in my Journey, and it being fifteen long Miles thither, the Ways bad, and my Nag but fmall, it was in the Afternoon that I got thither. And underftanding by the Ser-r vant that took my Horfe, that there was then a Meeting in the Houfe (as there was Weekly on that Day, which was the Fourth-day of the Week, though I till then understood it not) I haflened in - 3 and knowing the Rooms, went directly to the little Parlour, where I found a few Friends fitting together in Silence, and I fate down among them well fatisfied, though without Words. When the Meeting was ended, and thofe of the Company, who were Strangers, withdrawn, I addrefTed myfelf to Jfaac Peningto?2 and his Wife, who received me courteously ; but not knowing what Exercife I had been in and yet was under, nor having heard any Thing of me, lince I had been there before in another Garb, were not forward at firft to lay fudden Hands on me j which I obferved, and did not diilike. But as they came to fee a Change in me, not in Habit only, but in Geflure, Speech and Car- riage, and which was more, in Countenance alio, (for the Exercife I had paiTed through, and yet was under, had imprinted a vifible Cha- racter of Gravity upon my Face ; ) they were exceeding kind and tender towards me. There 0/ T. Ell wood's LIFE. 39 There was then in the Family a Friend, 1659. whole Name was Anne Curtis, the Wife of **V° 17. was Curtis of Reading, who was come upon a Vifit to them, and particularly to fee Mary Peningtons Daughter Quli s who had been ill o l the Small-pox fince I had been there before. Betwixt Mary Penington and this Friend, I ob- iervtd fome private Difcourfe and Whifper- ings, and I had an Apprehenfion that it was upon iomething that concerned me. Where- fore I took the Freedom to afk Mary Penington, It my coming thither had occafioned any In- convenience in the Family ? She afked me, If 1 had had the S mall- pox? I told her no. She then told me, Her Daughter bad newly bad them, and though foe was well recovered of them, Jbe had not as yet been down amongfl them ; but intended to tune come down, and fate with them in the Par- lour that Evening -, yet would rather forbear till another Time, than endanger me. And that that was the Matter they had been dlfcourjing of. I allured her, that I had always been, and then more especially, was free from any Apprehen- fion of Danger in that refpeel ; and therefore intreated, that her Daughter might come down. And although they were fome what unwilling to yield to it, in regard of me, yet my Importu- nity prevailed, and after Supper (he did come down and fit with us ; and tho' the Marks of the Diftemper were frem upon her, yet they made no Impreflion upon me, Faith keeping out Fear. We 4 o ^HISTORY 1659. We fpent much of the Evening in Retired- U Y %> ' nefs of Mind, our Spirits being weightily- gathered inward ; fo that not much Difcourfe panned among us, neither they to me, nor I to them, offered any Occafion. Yet I had good Satisfaction in that Stilnefs, feeling my Spirit drawn near to the Lord, and to them therein. Before I went to Bed, they let me know, that there was to be a Meeting at Wiccomb next Day, and that fome of the Family would go to it. I was very glad of it ; for I greatly defired to go to Meetings, and this fell very aptly, it being in my Way home. Next Morning Ifaac Penington himfelf went, having Anne Curtis with him, and I accompanied them. At Wiccomb we met with Edward Burroughs who came from Oxford thither, that Day that I, going thither, met him on the Way ; and ha- ving both our Montier-caps on, we recollected that we had met, and palled by each other on the Road unknown. This was a Monthly-meeting, confiding of Friends chiefly, who gathered to it from feveral Parts of the Country thereabouts ; fo that it was pretty large, and was held in a fair Room in Jeremiah Stevens's Houfe j the Room, where I.„ had been at a Meeting before in John Raimce's Houfe, being too little to receive us. A very good Meeting was this in itfelf and to me. Edward Burrougb's Ministry came forth among us in Life and Power, and the Aflembly was covered therewith. I alio, ac- cording to my fmall Capacity, had a Share therein. 0/T. Ellwocd's LIFE. 41 0a ■ therein. For I felt fome of that divine Power i6$g. working my Spirit into a great Tendernefs, hH. and not only confirming me in the Courfe I had already cntred, and itrengthning me to go on therein ; but rending alfo the Vail ibmewhat further, and clearing my Underitanding in fome other Things which I had not feen be- fore. For the Lord was pleafed to make His Difcoveries to me by degrees, that the Sight of too great a Work, and too many Enemies to encounter with at once, might not difcourage me and make me faint. When the Meeting was ended, the Friends of the Town taking Notice, that I was the Man that had been at their Meeting the Week before, whom they then did not know, fome of them came and fpake lovingly to me, and wculd have had me llaid with them j but Ed- ward Bur rough going home with IJ'aac Pcnington, he invited me to go back with him, which I willingly confented to. For the Love I had more particularly to Edward Burroughs through whofe Mini dry I had received the nrft awak- ning Stroke, drew me to defire his Company, and to away we rode together. But I was fomewhat difappointed of my Ex- pectation ; for I hoped he would have given me both Opportunity and Encouragement to have opened myfelf to him, and to have poured forth my Complaints, Feais, Doubts and Ques- tionings into his Bofom. But he, being fenfibie that I was truly reach'd, and that the Witnefs of G o d was railed, and the Work of God rightly 42 7& HISTORY 1659. rightly begun in me ; chofe to leave me to the **V° Guidance of the good Spirit in myfelf (the Coun- fellor that could refolve all Doubts) that I might not have any Dependance on Man. Where- fore, although he was naturally of an open and free Temper and Carriage, and was after- wards always very familiar and affe&ionately kind to me ; yet at this Time he kept himfelf fomewhat referved, and (hewed only common Kindnefs to me. Next Day we parted. He for London, I home, under a very great Weight and Exercife upon my Spirit. For f now law, in and by the farther Openings of the Divine Light in me, that the Enemy, by his falfe Reafonings, had beguiled and milled me, with refpect to my Carriage towards my Father. For I now clearly faw, that the Honour due to Parent s y did not confifr, in uncovering the Head, and bowing the Body to them ; but in a ready Obedience to their lawful Commands, and in performing all needful Services unto them. Wherefore, as I was greatly troubled for what I already had done in that Cafe, though it was through Ig- norance ; (o I plainly felt I could no longer continue therein, without drawing on myfelf the Guilt of wilful Difobedience ; which I well knew, would draw after it divine Difpleajure and "Judgment. Hereupon the Enemy affaulted me afrefh, fetting before me the Danger I mould run mv- felf into, of provoking my Father to ufe Seve- rity towards me -, and perhaps to the calling me Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 43 me utterly off. But over this Temptation the 1659. Lord, whom I cried unto, fupported me, and ^Y gave me Faith to believe, that He would bear me through whatever might befal me on that Account. Wherefore I refolved, in the Strength which He mould give me, to be faithful to His Requirings, whatever might come on it. Thus labouring under various Exercifes on the Way, I at length got home, expecting I mould have but a rough Reception from my Father. But when I came home, I underftood my Father was from home. Wherefore I fate down by the Fire in the Kitchen, keeping my Mind retired to the Lord, with Breathings of Spirit to Him, that I might be preferved from falling. After fome Time I heard the Coach drive in, which put me into a little Fear, and a fort of Shivering came over me. But by that Time he was alighted and come in, I had pretty well recovered myfelf ; and as foon as I faw him, I role up, and advanced a Step or two towards him, with my Head covered, and faid, Ifaac Penirigton and his Wife remember their Loves to thee. Ke made a Stop to hear what I faid, and ob- ferving that I did not ftand bare, and that I ufed the Word \Tkee) to him ; he, with a item Countenance, and Tone that fpake high Di (plea lure, only faid, I (I all talk with you, Sir, another Time-, and io haftening from me went into the Parlour, and I law him no more that Night. Tho' 44 *fe HISTORY 1659. Tho' I forefiw there was a Storm arifing, hr° the Apprehenfion of which was uneafy to mc t yet the Peace which I felt in my own Breaft, raifed in me a Return of Thankfgivings to the Lord, for His gracious fupporting Hand, which had thus far carried me through this Exercife > with humble Cries in Spirit to Him, that He would vouchfafe to ftand by me in it to the End, and uphold me, that I might not fall. My Spirit longed to be among Friends, and to be at feme Meeting with them on the Fnfi- day, which now drew on, this being the Sixth- day Night. Wherefore I purpofed to go to Oxford on the Morrow (which was the Seventh- day of the Week) having heard there was a Meeting there. Accordingly, having ordered my Horfe to be made resdy befimes, I got up in the Morning and made myfelf ready alfo. Yet before I would go, (that I might be as ob- fervant to my Father as poffibiy I could) I de- fired my Sifter to go up to him in his Chamber, and acquaint him, that I had a Mind to go to Oxford ; and defired to know, if he pleafed to command me any Service there. He bid her tell me, He would not have me go, till be bad fpoken with me. And getting up immediately, he haftened down to me before he was qui:e drefTed. As loon as he faw me Handing with my Hat on, his Paffion trapfporting him, he fell upon me with both his Fills ; and having by that Means fomewhat vented his Anger, he plucked off my Hat and threw it away. Then flep* ping Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 45 ping haftiiy out to the Stable, and feeing my 1659. borrowed Nag ftand ready faddled and bridled, **V** he afked his Man, Whence that Horfe came ? who telling him, he fetcht it from Mr. fuch an One's : Then ride him prefently back, faid my Father, and tell Mr. i" defire he will never lend my Son an Horfe again, unlefs he brings a Note from me. The poor Fellow, who loved me well, would fain have made Excufes and Delays j but my Father was pofitive in his Command, and fo urgent, that he would not let him ftay fo much as to take his Breakfaft (though he had five Miles to ride) nor would he himfelf ftir from the Stable, till he had feen the Man mounted and gone. Then coming in, he went up into his Cham- ber, to make himfelf more fully ready, think- ing he had me fafe enough now my Horfe was gone 5 for I took fo much Delight in riding, that I feldom went on Foot. But while he was drefiing himfelf in his Chamber, I (who underftood what had been done) changing my Boots for Shoes, took another Hat, and acquainting my Sifter, who loved me very well, and whom I could confide in, whither I meant to go, went out privately and walked away to V/iccomb, having fevent long Miles thither, which yet feem'd little and eafy to me, from the Defire I had to be among Friends. As thus I travelled all alone, under a Load of G.ief, from the Senfe I had of the Oppofition and 46 7& HISTORY 1659. and Hardfhip I was to expect from my Father ; Vy*** the Enemy took Advantage to affault me again, cafting a Doubt into my Mind, Whether I had done well, in thus coming away from my Father, without his Leave or Knowledge ? I was quiet and peaceable in my Spirit before this Queition was darted into me ; but after that, Difturbance and Trouble feized upon me, fo that I was at a ftand what to do ; whether to go forward or backward ? Fear of offending inclined me to go back ; but Defire of the Meeting, and to be with Friends, prefled me to go forward. I ftood ftill a while, to confider and weigh, as well as I could, the Matter. I was fenfibly fatisfied, that I had not left my Father with any Intention of Undutifulnefs or DifrefpecJ to him ; but meerly in Obedience to that Drawing of Spirit, which I was perfwaded was of the LORD, to join with His People in worfiipping Him ; and this made me eafy. But then the Enemy, to make me uneafy again, objected, But how could that Drawing be of the LORD, which drew me to difobey my Father 1 I confidered thereupon the Extent of Pater- nal Power j which I found was not wholly ar- bitrary and unlimited, but had Bounds let unto it. So that as in civil Matters, it was reflrained to Things lawful-, io in fpiritual and religious Cafes, it had not a compulfory Power over Con- fcience -, which ought to be fubject to the hea- venly Father. And therefore, though Obedience to Parents be enjoined to Children ; yet it is with this Limitation, [in^he LORD:] Children, Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 47 Children, obey your Parents in the Lord-, jor this 1659- is right, 1 Pet. vi. 1. c ^** > - This turned the Scale for going forward, and fo on I went, And yet I was not wholly free from fome Fluctuations of Mind, from the Befettings of the Enemy. Wherefore, altho' I knew that outward Signs did not properly belong to the Gofpel Diipenfation 5 yet for my better Affurance, I did, in Fear and great Humility, befeech the Lord, that He would be pleafed fo far to condefcend to the Weaknefs of His Servant, as to give me a Sign, by which I might certainly know, whether my Way was right before Him or not ? The Sign which I afked was, 'That if 1 had done wrong in coming as I did, 1 might be reject- ed, or but coldly received at the Place I was going to ; but if this mine Undertaking was right in His Sight, He would give me Favour with them 1 went to,fo that they (liould receive me with hearty Kind- nejs and Demonfirations of Love. Accordingly, when I came to John Ranee's Houfe (which^ being fo much a Stranger to all, I chofe to go to, becaufe I underftood the Meeting was com- monly held there ; ) they received me with more than ordinary Kindnefs, efpecially Frances "Ranee, John Ranee's then Wife, who was both a grave and motherly Woman, and had a hearty Love to Truth, and Tendernefs towards all that in Sincerity fought after it. And this fo kind Reception, confirming me in the Be- lief that my Undertaking was approved of by the LORD, gave great Satisfaction and Eafe F to 48 ^HISTORY 1659. to my Mind ; and I was thankful to the Lord ♦"■V* therefor. Thus it fared with me there ; but at home it fared otherwife with my Father. He fup- poling I had betaken myfelf to my Chamber, when he took my Hat from me, made no Enquiry after me till Evening came j and then fitting by the Fire, and confidering that the Weather was very cold, he faid to my Siller, who fate by him, Go up to your Brother $ Cham- ber, a?id call him down ; it may be he will fit there elfe, in a fullen Fit, till he has caught Cold. Alas I Sir, faid me, He is not in his Chamber, nor in the Hou/e neither. At that my Father Harding, faid, Why where is he then f 1 know not, Sir, faid Ihe, where he is ; but I know that, when he faw you hadfent away his Horje, he put on Shoes, and went out on Foot, and I have ?iot feen him Jince. And indeed, Sir, added (he, 1 dont wonder at his going away, confidering how you ufed him. This put my Father into a great Fright, doubt- ing I was gone quite away 3 and fo great a Paffion of Grief feized on him, that he forbore not to weep, and to cry out aloud, fo that the Family heard him, Oh I my Son ! I fiall never fee him more ! For he is of fo bold and rejblute a Spirit, that he will run himfelf into Danger,, and Jo may be thrown into fome Goal or other, where he may lie and die before 1 can hear of him. Then bid- ding her light him up to his Chamber, he went immediately to Bed, where he lay reftlels and groaning, and often bemoaning himfelf and me, for the gi eateft Part of the Night. Next Of T. Ell wood's LI F E. 49 Next Morning my Sifter fent a Man (whom, 1659. for his Love to me, fhe knew me could truft) ^T*. to give me this Account j and though by him {he fent me alfo frefh Linen for my Ufe, in cafe I mould go farther, or ftay out longer ; yet (he defired me to come home as foon as I could. This Account was very uneafy to me. I was much grieved that I had occafioned (o much Grief to my Father. And I would "have re- turned that Evening after the Meeting, but the Friends would not permit it ; for the Meet- ing would in likelihood end late, the Days be- ing fhort, and the Way was long and dirty. And befides, John Rajjce told me, that he had fomething on his Mind to fpeak to my Father, and that if I would ftay till the next Day, he would go down with me ; hoping perhaps, that while my Father was under this Sorrow for me, he might work fome good upon him. Hereupon, concluding to flay till the Morrow, I difmifs'd the Man with theThings he brought* bidding him tell my Sifter, 1 intended (God willing) to return home To-morrow j and charging him not to let any Body elfe know that he had feen me, or where he had been. Next Morning John Ranee and I fet out, and when we were come to the End of the Town* We agreed that he mould go before and knock at the great Gate, and I would come a little after, and go in by the Back-way. He did fo j and when a Servant came to open the Gate, he alking if the Juftice were at home, (he told F 2 him, 5° Tie HISTORY 1659. him, Yes ; and defiring him to come in and ^V° fit down in the Hall, went and acquainted her Mafter, that there was one who defired to fpeak with him. He, fuppofing it was one that came for Juftice, went readily into the Hall to him. But he was not a little furprized when he found it was a Quaker. Yet not knowing on what Account he came, he ftaid to hear his Bufinefs. But when he found it was about me, he fell fomewhat fharply on him. In this Time I was come by the Back-way into the Kitchen, and hearing my Father's Voice fo loud, I began to doubt Things wrought not well j but I was foon aflured of that. For my Father having quickly enough of a Quaker's Company, left John Ranee in the Hall, and came into the Kitchen, where he was more furprized to find me. The Sight of my Hat upon my Head, made him prefently forget that I was that Son of his^ whom he had fo lately lamented as loft ; and his Paffion of Grief turning into Anger, he could not contain himfelf ; but running upon me, with both his Hands, firfl violently fnatcht off my Hat, and threw it away j then giving me fome Buffets on my Head, he faid, Sirrah, get you up to your Chamber. I forthwith went ; he following me at the Heels, and now and then giving me a Whirret on the Ear ; which (the Way to my Chamber lying through the Hall where John Ranee was) he, poor Man, might fee and be forry for (as I doubt not but he was) but could not help me. This Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 51 This was fare an unaccountable thing, That 1659. my Father fhould, but a Day before, exprefs W fq high a Sorrow for me, as fearing he fhould never fee me any more ; and yet now, fo foon as he did fee me, {hould fly upon me with fuch Violence, and that only becaufe 1 did not put off my Hat, which he knew I did not keep on in Difrefpec7 to him, but upon a religious Prin- ciple. But as this Hat-honour (as it was ac- counted) was grown to be a great Idol, in thofe Times more efpecially, fo the Lord was pleafed to engage his Servants in a fteady Teflimony againfl it, what Suffering foever was brought upon them for it. And though fame, who have been called into the Lord's Vineyard at latter Hours, and fince the Heat of that Day hath been much over, may be apt to account this Tefli- mony a fmall Thing to fuffer fo much upon, as fome have done, not only to Beating, but to Fines, and long and hard hnprifonments ; yet they who, in thofe Times, were faithfully exer- cifed in and under it, durft not defpife the Day of fmall Things j as knowing that he who fhould do fo, would not be thought worthy to be con- cerned in higher Testimonies. I had now loft one of my Hats, and I had but one more. That therefore I put on, but did not keep it long ; for the next Time my Father faw it on my Head, he tore it violently from me, and laid it up with the other, I knew not where. Wherefore I put on my Mountier-cap, which was all I had left to wear on my Head, and it was but a very little while F 3 that 52 fhe HISTORY 1659. that I had that to wear ; for as foon as my £*p* Father came where I was, I loft that alfo. And now I was forced to go bare-headed, wherever I had Occafion to go, within Doors and without. This was in the Eleventh Month, called January, a"d the Weather fharp ; fo that I, who had been bred up more tenderly, took fo great a Cold in my Head, that my Face and Head were much fwelled ; and my Gums had on them Boils fo fore, that I could neither chew Meat, nor without Difficulty fwallow Liquids. It held long, and I underwent much Pain, without much Pity, except from my poor Sifter, who did what me could to give me Eafe j and at length, by frequent Applications pf Figs and ftoned Raifins toafted, and laid to the Boils as hot as I could bear them, they ripened fit for lancing, and foon after funk ; then I had Eafe. Now was I laid up, as a kind of Prifoner, for the reft of this Winter, having no means to go forth among Friends, nor they Liberty to come to me. Wherefore I fpent the Time much in my Chamber, in waiting on the LORD, and in reading, moftly in the Bible. But whenever I had Occafion to fpeak to my Father, though I had no Hat now to offend him, yet my Language did as much ; for I durft. not fay [You] to him ; but Thou, or Thee, as the Occafion required, and then would he be fure to fall on me with his Fjfts. At Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 53 At one of thefe Times, I remember, when he 1659. had beaten me in that Manner, he commanded i ^T nJ me, as he commonly did at fuch Times, to go to my Chamber ; which I did, and he fol- lowed me to the Bottom of the Stairs. Being come thither, he gave me a Parting-blow, and in a very angry Tone faid, Sirrah, if ever 1 hear you fay Thou or Thee to me again, F 11 fir ike your Teeth down your Throat. I was greatly grieved to hear him fay Co. And feeling a Word rife in my Heart unto him, I turned again, and calmly faid unto him, Would it ?iot be juft, if God fiould ferve thee fo^ when thou fay eft Thou or Thee to Him ? Though his Hand was up, I faw it fink and his Countenance fall, and he turned away and left me Standing there. But I notwithstanding went up into my Chamber, and cried unto the Lord, earneftly befeeching Him, that He would be pleafed to open my Father's Eyes, that he might fee whom he fought againfr, and for what j and that He would turn his Heart. After this I had a pretty time of Reft and Quiet from thefe Disturbances ; my Father not faying any Thing to me, nor giving me Occa- fion to fay any Thing to him. But I was Still under a kind of Confinement, unlefs I would have run about the Country bare-headed like a Mad-man ; which I did not fee it was my Place to do. For I found that, although to be abroad and at Liberty among my Friends, would have been more pleafant to me j yet Home was at prefent my proper Place, a F 4 School 54 The HISTORY 1650. School in which I was to learn with Patience ts= v° to bear the Crojs, and I willingly fubmitted to it. But after fome Time a frefh Storm, more fierce and (harp than any before, arofe and fell upon me ; the Occafion whereof was this : My Father, having been in his younger Years, more efpeciaily while he lived in London, z. conftant Hearer of thofe who are called Pun- tan Preachers, had ftored up a pretty Stock of Scripture Knowledge ', did fometimes (not con- ftantly, nor very often) caufe his Family to come together on a Firft-day in the Evening, and expound a Chapter to them, and pray. His Family now, as well as his Eftate, was leffen'd ; for my Mother was dead, my Bro- ther gone, and my elder Sifter at London ; and having put off his Hulbandry, he had put off with it moil of his Servants, fo that he had row but one Man and one Maid-fervant. It fo fell out, that on a Firft-day Night he bid my Sifter, who fate with him in the Parlour, Call in the Servaiits to Prayer. Whether this was done as a Trial upon me or no, I know not ; but a Trial it proved to me : For they, loving me very well, and dif- liking my Father's Carriage to me, made no hafte to go in, but ftaid a fecond Summons. This fo offended him, that when at length they did go in, he inftead of going to Prayer, ex- amined them, Why they came not in when the)' were jirft called ? and the Anfwer they gave him being fuch as rather heightned, than abated his Of T. Ellwood's LIFE. 55 his Difpleafure, he, with an angry Tone, faid, 1659. Call in that Fellow (meaning me, who was left V "V J alone in the Kitchen) for he is the Caufe of all this, They, as they were backward to go in themfelves, fo were not forward to call me in t fearing the Effect of my Father's Difpleafure would fall upon me, as it foon did ; for I hearing what was faid, and not flaying for the Call, went in of myfelf. And as foon as I was come in, my Father difcharged his Dif- pleafure on me, in very {harp and bitter Ex- preiTions ; which drew from me (in the Grief of my Heart, to fee him fo tranfported with Paffion) thefe few Words j 7hey that can pray with fuch a Spirit let 'em ; for my part I cannot. With that my Father flew upon me with both his Fifts, and not thinking that fufficient, ftept haftily to the Place where his Cane flood, and catching that up, laid me on, I thought, with all his Strength. And, I being bare-headed, I thought his Blows muil needs have broken my Skull, had I not laid mine Arm over my Head to defend it. His Man feeing this, and not able to con- tain himfelf, ftept in between us, and laying hold on the Cane, by Strength of Hand held it fo faft, that though he attempted not to take it away, yet he with-held my Father from finking with it ; which did but enrage him the more. I difliked this in the Man, and bid him let go the Cane, and be gone ; which he imme- diately did, and turning to be gone, had a Blow 56 7^ HISTORY 1659. Blow on the Shoulders for his Pains, which ytt Vr* did not much hurt him. But now my Sifter, fearing left my Father mould fall upon me again, befought him to forbear ; adding, Indeed Sir, if you Jlrike him any more y I will throw open the Cafement and cry Murther ; for I am afraid you will kill my Brother. This ftopt his Hand - 3 and after fome threatning Speeches, he commanded me to Get to my Chamber, which I did -, as I always did whenever he bid me. Thither, foon after, my Sifter followed me to fee my Arm and drefs it, for it was indeed very much bruifed and fwelled between the Wrift and the Elbow ; and in fome Places the Skin was broken and beaten off. But though it was very fore, and I felt for fome Time much Pain in it, yet I had Peace and Quietnefs in my Mind, being more grieved for my Father than for myfelf, who I knew had hurt himfelf more than me. This was, fo far as I remember, the laft Time that ever my Father called his Family to Prayer. And this was alfo the laft Time that he ever fell, fo feverely at leaft, upon me. Soon after this, my elder Sifter, who in all the Time of thefe Exercifes of mine, had been at London, returned home -, much troubled to find me a Quaker, a Name of Reproach and great Contempt then ; and /lie, being at Lon- don t had received, I fuppofe, the worft Cha- racter of them. Yet, though (he difliked the People, 0/ T. Ellwocd's LIFE. $7 People, her affectionate Regard to me, made 1659. her rather pity than defpife me ; and the more, W** when (he underftood what hard Ufage I had met with. The reft of this Winter I fpent in a lonefome folitary Life, having none to converfe with, none to unbofom myfelf unto, none to afk Counfel of, none to feek Relief from, but the Lord alone ; who yet was more than AIL And yet the Company and Society of faithful and judicious Friends, would, I thought, have been very welcome, as well as helpful to me in my fpiritual Travel j in which I thought I made but a flow Progrefs, my Soul breathing after further Attainments : The Senfe of which drew from me the following Lines ; The Winter Tree Refembles me, Whofe Sap lies in its Root : The Spring draws nigh ; As it, fo I Shall bud, I hope, and moot. At length it pleafed the Lord to move Ifaac 1660. Penington and his Wife to make a Vifit to my W** Father, and fee how it fared with me : And very welcome they were to me, whatever they were to him j to whom I doubt not but they would have been more welcome, had it not been for me. They tarried with us all Night, and much Difcourlc they had with my Father both about the 58 ^HISTORY 1660. the Principles of Truth in general, and me 5*V J in particular ; which I was not privy to. But one Thing, I remember, I afterwards heard of, which was this : When my Father and we were at their Houfe fome Months before, Mary Penington, in fome Difcourfe between them, had told him how hardly her Hufband's Father (Alderman Pcnington) had dealt with him about his Hat ; which my Father (little then thinking that it would, and fo foon too, be his own Cafe) did very much cenfure the Alderman for ; won- dring that fo wife a Man as he was, mould take Notice of fuch a trivial Thing as the put- ting of, or keeping on a Hat ; and he fpared not to blame him liberally for it. This gave her a Handle to take hold of him by. And having had an ancient Acquaintance with him, and he having always had an high Opinion of and Refpect for her ; (lie, who was a Woman of great Wifdom, of ready Speech, and of a well-refolved Spirit, did prefs fo clofe upon him with this Home-argument, that he was utterly to feek, and at a lofs how to defend himfelf. After Dinner next Day, when they were ready to take Coach to return home, (he de- fired my Father that, fince my Company was fo little acceptable to him, he would give me Leave to go and fpend fome Time with them, where I mould be fure to be welcome. He was very unwilling I fhould go, and made many. Objections againft it s all which {he Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 59 fhe anfwered and removed fo clearly, that 1660. not finding what Excufe further to alledge, he ^V* at length left it to me 5 and I foon turned the Scale for going. We were come to the Coach- fide before this was concluded on, and I was ready to ftep in ; when one of my Sillers privately put my Father in Mind, that I had never a Hat on. That fomewhat ftartled him ; for he did not think it fit I mould go from home (and that fo far, and to ftay abroad) without a Hat. Wherefore he whifpered to her, to fetch me a Hat, and he entertained them with fome Dif- courfe in the mean Time. But as foon as he faw the Hat coming, he would not flay till it came, left I mould put it on before him ; but breaking off his Difcourfe abruptly, took his Leave of them, and haftened in before the Hat was brought to me. I had not one Penny of Money about me, nor any, indeed, elfewhere. For my Father, fo foon as he faw that I would be a Quaker,, took from me both what Money I had, and every Thing elfe of Value, or that would have made Money, as fome Plate Buttons, Rings, &c. pretending that he would keep them for me, till I came to myfelf again, left I in the mean time fhould deftroy them. But as I had no Money, fo being among my Friends, I had no need of any, nor ever honed after it ; though once upon a particular Occa- fion I had like to have wanted it. The Cafe was thus : I had 60 3fo? HISTORY 1660. I had been at Reading, and fet out from ,W° thence on the Firft-day of the Week in the Morning, intending to reach (as, in point of Time I well might) to Ifaac Peningtoris, where the Meeting was to be that Day ; but when I came to Maidenhead, a thorough-fair Town on the Way, I was ftopt by the Watch for riding on that Day. The Watchman laying hold on the Bridle, told me 1 muft go with him to the Confiable ; and accordingly I, making no Refinance, fuf- fered him to lead my Horfe to the Conftable's Door. When we were come there, the Con- fiable told me, / muft go before the Warden^ who was the chief Officer of that Town, and bid the Watchman bring me on, himfelf walk- ing before. Being come to the Warden's Door, the Con- fiable knockt, and defired to fpeak with Mr. Warden. He thereupon quickly coming to the Door, the Confiable faid, Sir, 1 have brought a Man here to you, whom the Watch took riding through the Town. The Warden was a budge old Man ; and I looked fomewhat big too, having a good Gelding under me, and a good Riding-coat on my Back, both which my Friend Ifaac Penington had kindly accommo- dated me with for that Journey. The Warden therefore taking me to be (as the Saying is) Somebody, put off his Hat and made a low Congee to me j but when he faw that I fate flill, and neither bowed to him, nor moved my Hat, he gave a Start, and faid to the Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 61 the Con (table, Tou /aid you had brought a Man, 1660. but he dont behave himfelf like a Man. ^V**. 1 fate ftill upon my Horfe, and faid not a Word, but kept my Mind retired to the Lord, waiting to fee what this would come to. The Warden then began to examine me, afkifig me Whence I came ? and Whither I was going ? I told him I came from Reading, and was going to Chalfont. He afked me, Why I did travel on that Day ? I told him, I did not know that it would give any Offence barely to ride or walk on that Day, fo long as I did not carry or drive any Carriage, or Horfes laden with Burthens. Why, faid he, if your Bufinefs was urgent, did you not take a Pafs from the Mayor of Reading ? Becaufe, replied I, I did not know, nor think I fhould have needed one. Well, faid he, / will not talk with you now, becaufe it is 'Time to go to Church ; but I will examine you further anon. And turning to the Conftable, Have him, faid he, to an Inn y and bring him before me after Dinner. The naming of an Inn put me in Mind, that fuch publick Houfes were Places of Expence, and I knew I had no Money to defray it. Wherefore I faid to the Warden, Before thou fendeft me to an Inn, which may occafion fome Expence, I think it needful to acquaint thee, that I have no Money. At that the Warden ftartled again ; and turning quick upon me, faid, How ! no Money! How can that be f Tou don't look like a Man that has no Money \ However I look, faid I, I tell thee 62 7& HISTORY 1660. thee the Truth, that I have no Money ; and I 5*V** tell it to forewarn thee, that thou rnayft not bring any Chaige upon the Town. I wonder, faid he, what Art you have got, that you can travel without Money j you can do more, I ajfure you, than 1 can. I making no Anfwer, he went on and faid, Well, well ! but if you have no Money, you have a good Horfe under you, and we can dijlrain him for the Charge. But, faid I, the Horfe is not mine. No ! faid he, But you have a good Coat on your Back, and that, I hope, is your own. No, faid I, but it is not j for I borrowed both the Horfe and the Coat. With that the Warden holding up his Hands and fmiling, faid, Blefs me ! I never met with fuch a Man as you are before ! What ! were you fet out by the Parifh ? Then turning to the . Conftable, he faid, Have him to the Greyhound, and bid the People be civil to him. Accordingly to the Greyhound I was Jed, my Horfe fet up, and I put into a large Room ; and fome Ac- count, I fuppofe, given of me to the People of the Houfe. This was new Work to me, and what the IiThe of it would be, I could not forefee ; but being left there alone, I fate down and retired in Spirit to the Lord, in whom alone my Strength and Safety was, and beg'd Support of Him ; even that He would be pleafed to give me Wifdom and Words to anfwer the Warden, when I fhould come to be examined again before him, After Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 63 After fome Time, having Pen, Ink and Paper 1660. about me, I fet myfelf to write what I thought *^T* might be proper, if Occafion ferved, to give the Warden. And while I was writing, the Matter of the Houfe being come home ftom his Worfhip, fent the Tapfter to me, to invite me to dine with him. I bid him tell his Matter, that I had not any Money to pay for my Dinner. He fent the Man again to tell me, / fhould be welcome to dine with him, though I had no Money. I defired him to tell his Mafter, that I was very fenfible of his Civility and Kindnefs, in fo cour- teoufly inviting me to his Table ; but I had not Freedom to eat of his Meat, unlels I could have paid for it. So he went on wiih his Din- ner, and I with my writing. But before I had finifhed what was on my Mind to write, the Confutable came again, bringing with him his fellow Conftable. This was a brifk, genteel young Man, a Shopkeeper in the Town, whofe Name was Cherry. They faluted me civilly, and told me they were come to have me before the Warden. This put an End to my writing; which- I put -into my Pocket, and went along with them. Being come to the Warden's, he afked me again the fame Queftions he had afked me be- fore ; to which I gave him the like Aafvvers. Then he told me the Penalty I had incurred ; which, he faid, was either to pay fo much Money, or lie fo many Hours in the Stocks ; and afked me, which 1 would chu/e ? I reply 'd, I fliall not chufe either. And faid I, I have told G thee 64 & HISTORY 1 660. thee already that I have no Money ; though if I Vv** had, I could not fo far acknowledge myfelf an Offender, as to pay any. But as to lying in the Stocks, I am in thy Power, to do unto me what it (hall pleafe the Lord to fuffer thee. When he heard that, he paufed a while, and then told me, He confidered that 1 was but a young Man, and might not, perhaps, underfland the Danger 1 had brought myfelf into, and there- fore he would not life the Severity of the Law upon me -, but in hopes that I would be wifer hereafter, he would pafs by this Offence and difcharge me. Then putting on a Countenance of the greater Gravity, he fa id to me ; But, young Man, I would have you know, that you have not only broken the haw of the Land, but the Law of God alfo -, a?id therefore you ought to afk Him For- givenefs, for you have highly offended Him. That, laid I, I would moft willingly do, if I were fenfible that, in this Cafe, I had offended Him by breaking any Law of His. Why, faid he, do you quefiion that ? Yes truly, faid I ; for I do not know that any Law of God doth forbid me to ride on this Day. No I faid he, that's ft range ! Where, I wonder, were you bred ? Tou can read ; cant you f Yes faid I, that I can. Don't you read then, faid he, the Commandment ; Remember the Sabbath- day to keep it holy. Six Days flialt thou la- bour, and do all thy Work j but the Seventh- day is the Sabbath of the Lord thy God ; in it thou (halt not do any Work. Yes, replyed I, I have both read it onen, and remember it very well. 0/T. Ellwood's LIFE. 65 well. But that Command was given to the 1660. Jews, not to Chriftians ; and this is not that v w yrjrTClTsI 14th of the twelfth -*-• ■». JirilNGrON. Month, 1660. Though 90 7&? HISTORY 1661. Though thefe epiftolary Vifits in the Love **Y° of God, were very comfortable and confirm- ing to me, and my Heart was thankful to the Lord for them ; yet I honed after perfonal Con- verfation with Friends, and it was hard, I thought, that there fhould be fo many faithful Servants of God fo near me, yet I fhould not be permitted to come at them, to enjoy their Company, and reap both the Pieafure and Be- nefit of their fweet Society. For although my Marihall-keeper was very kind to me, and allowed me the Liberty of his Houfe, yet he was not willing I mould be feen abroad ; the rather perhaps, becaufe he tmderftood I had been pretty well known in that City. Yet once the friendly Baker got him to let me ftep over to his Houfe ; and once (and but once) I prevailed with him, to let me vifit my Friends in the Caftle 5 but it was with thefe Conditions, That I mould not go forth till it was dark : That I would muffle mvfelf up in my Cloak j and that I would not flay out late. All which [punctually obferved. When I came thither, though there were many Friends Prifoners, I fcarce knew one of them by Face, except Thomas Loe, whom I had once feen at IJaac Peningtoris : Nor did any of them know me, though they had generally heard, that fuch a young Man as I, was con- vinced of the Truth and come among Friends. Our Salutation to each other was very grave and folemn ; nor did we entertain one another with much Talk, or with common Difccurfts ; but Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 91 but moft of the little Time I had with them, 1661. was ipent in a filent Retirednefs of Spirit, W** waiting upon the Lord. Yet, before we part- ed, we imparted one to another fome of the Exercifes we had gone through ; and they feeming willing to undeifland the Ground and Manner of my Commitment, I gave them a brief Account thereof, letting Thomas Loe more particularly know, that I had directed a Letter to him, which, having fallen into the Hand of the Lord-Lieutenant, was (fo far as I could learn) the immediate Caufe of my being taken up. Having flaid with them as long as my li- mitted Time would permit (which I thought was but very fhort) that I might keep Touch with my Keeper, and come home in due Time, I took Leave of my Friends there, and with mutual Embraces parting, returned to my (in fome fenfe more eafy, but in others lefs eafy) Prifon, where after this, I ftaid not long before I was brought back to my Father's Houfe. For after my Father was come home, who, as I obferved before, was from home when I was taken, he applied himfelf to thofe Juftices that had committed me. and not having dil- obliged them when he was in Office, eafily obtained to have me fent home ; which between him and them was thus contrived. There was about this Time a general Mufter and Training of the militia Forces at Oxford ; whither, on that Occaiion, came the Lord- Lieutenant, and the Deputy-Lieutenants of the County 92 The HISTORY 1661, County, of which Number, they who com- ^W^ mitted me were two. When they had been a while together, and the Marfhall with them, he ftept fuddenly in, and in hafte told me, 1 muft get ready quickly to go out of Town, and that a Soldier would come, by and by to go with me. This faid, he haftned to them again, not giving me any Intimation how I was to go, or whither. I needed not much Time to get ready in j but I was uneafy in thinking what the Friends of the Town would think of this my fudden and private Removal ; and I feared left any Re- port mould be raifed, that I had purchafed my Liberty by an unfaithful Compliance. Where- fore I was in Care how to ipeak with fome Friend about it ; and that friendly Baker, whofe Wife was a Friend, living on the other Side of the Street at a little Diftance, I went out at a back Door, intending to llep over the Way to their Houfe, and return immediately. It fo fell out, that fome of the Lieutenants (of whom Efquire Clark, who committed me, was. one) were {landing in a Balcony at a great Inn or Tavern, juft over the Place where I was to go by ; and he fpying me, called out to the Soldiers, who flood thick below in the Street, to flop me. They, being generally Gentle- mens Servants, and many of them knowing me, did civilly forbear to lay hold on me, but calling modeflly after me, faid, Stay, Sir, /lay ; pray come back. I heard, but was not willing to hear, therefore rather mended my Pace, that I might Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 93 might have got within the Door. But he calling 1661. earneftly after me, and charging them to flop W** me, fome of them were fain to run, and laying hold on me before I could open the Door, brought me back to my Place again. Being thus difappointed, I took a Pen and Ink and wrote a few Lines, which I fealed up, and gave to the Apprentice in the Shop, who had carried himfelf handfomely to me, and defired him to deliver it to that Friend who was their Neighbour, which he promifed to do. By that Time I had done this, came the Soldier that was appointed to conduct me out of Town. I knew the Man, for he lived within a Mile of me, being through Poverty reduced to keep an Ale-houfe j but he had lived in better fafhion, having kept an Inn at Thame, and by that means knew how to behave him- felf civilly, and did fo to me. He told me, he was ordered to wait on me to JVhately, and to tarry there at fuch an Inn, till Eiquire Clark came thither, who would then take me home with him in his Coach. Ac- cordingly to Whately we walked (which is from Oxford fome four or five Miles) and long we had not been there, before Clark and a great Company of rude Men came in. He alighted, and flaid a while to eat and drink (though he came but from Oxford) and invited me to eat with him ; but I, though I had need enough, refufed it, for indeed their Conversation was a Burthen to my Life, and made me often think of, and pity good Lot. He 94 The HISTORY 1661. He feem'd at that Time to be in a fort of W mixt Temper, between Pleafantnefs and Sour- nefs. He would fometimes joke (which was natural to him) and call: out a jetting Flirt at me ; but he would rail malicioufly againfl the Quakers. If, faid he to me, the King would authorize me to do it, I would not leave a Quaker alive in England, except you. I would make no more, added he, to Jet my Pi/lol to their Ears, and foot them through the Head, than I would to kill a Dog. I told him, I was forry he had fo ill an Opinion of the Quakers, but I was glad he had no Caufe for it, and I hoped he would be of a better Mind. I had in my Hand a little Walking-flick with a Head on it, which he commended, and took out of my Hand to look on it j but I law his Intention was to fearch it, whether it had a Tuck in it, for he tried to have drawn the Head ; but when he found it was faft, he re- turned it to me. He told me, I /Jjould ride with him to his Houfe in his Coach, which was nothing pleafant to me j for I had rather have gone on Foot (as bad as the Ways were) that I might have been out of his Company. Wherefore I took no Notice of any Kindnefs in the Offer, but only anfwered, I was at his Difpojal, not mine own. But when we were ready to go, the Marfhall came to me, and told me, If I pleafed 1 fiould ride his Horfe, and he would go in the Coach with Mr. Clark. I was glad' of the Offer, and only told him, he fhould take out his Piftols then, for Of T. E t l w o o d' s LIFE. 93 for 1 would not ride with them. He took them 1661. out, and laid them in the Coach by him, and *****, away we went. It was a very fine Beaft that I was fet on, by much the beft in the Company. But tho' me was very tall, yet the Ways being very foul, I found it needful, as foon as I was out of Town, to alight and take up the Stirrups. Mean while, they driving hard on, I was (o far behind, that being at length milled by the Company, a Soldier was fent back to look after me. As foon as I had fitted my Stirrups and was remounted, I gave the Rein to my Mare, which being courageous and nimble, and im- patient of Delay, made great Speed to recover the Company. And in a narrow PafTage, the Soldier, who was my Barber that had fetch'd me from home, and I met upon fo brifk a Gallop, that we had enough to do on either Side, to take up our Horfes and avoid a Brum. When we were come to Wejion where Efquire Clark lived, he took the Marmall and fome others with him into the Parlour j but I was left in the Hall, to be expofed a fecond Time for the Family to gaze on. At length himfelf came out to me, leading in his Hand a beloved Daughter of his, a young Woman of about eighteen Years of Age, who wanted nothing to have made her comely, but Gravity. An airy Piece (lie was j and very merry (he made herfelf at me. When flie had throughly viewed me, he, putting her a little 1 forward 9 6 The HIST O R Y 1661. forward towards me, faid, Here, Tom, will you W° kijs her ? I was grieved and athamed at this frothy Lightnefs, and I fuppofe he perceived it ; whereupon he drew nearer, as if he would have whifpered, and then faid, Will you lie with her? At which I, with a difdainful Look, turn- ing away, he faid, I think it would be better for you, than to be a Quaker ; and lb little Con- iideration and Regard to Modelty had (lie, that (he added, I think Jo too. This was all by Candle-light. And when they had made themfelves as much Sport with me as they would, the Marmall took his Leave of them, and mounting me on a Horfe of Clark's, had me home to my Father's that Night. Next Morning, before the Marmall went away, my Father and he confulted together how to intangle me. I felt there were Snares laid, but I did not know in what Manner or to what End, till the MariTiall was ready to go. And then, coming where I was to take his Leave of me, he deiired me to take Notice, 'That altho* he had brought me home to my Father s Houfe again, yet I was not di [charged from my Imprifonment, but was his Prifoncr fill j and that he had committed ?ne to the Care of my Father, to fee me forth-coming whenever 1 (hould be called for. And therefore he ex peeled I f hould in all Things objerve my Father's Orders ; and not go at any Time from the Houfe without his Leave* Now Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 97 Now I plainly faw the Snare, and to what 1661. End it was laid. And I afked him, if this De- *^H vice was not contrived to keep me from going to Meetings ? He faid, / muft ??ot go to Meetings. Whereupon I defired him to take Notice, That I would not own myfelf a Prifoner to any Man while I continued here. That if he had Power to detain me Prifoner, he might take me back again with him if he would, and I mould not refufe to go with him. But I bid him allure himfelf, that while I was at home, I would take my Liberty both to go to Meetings and to vifit Friends. He frmled and faid, JJ 1 would be r e joint e, he could not help it j and fo took his Leave of me, By this I perceived that the Plot was of my Father's laying, to have brought me under fuch an Engagement, as mould have lied me from going to Meetings ; and thereupon I expected I mould have a new Exercife from my Father. It was the conftant manner of my Father, to have all the Keys of the Out-doors of his Houfe (which were four, and thofe linkt upon a Chain) brought up into his Chamber every Night, and fetch'd out from thence in the Morning ; fo that none could come in or go out, in the Night* without his Knowledge. I knowing this, fufpected that if I got not out before my Father came down, I mould be flopped from going out at all that Day. Where- fore (the Paflage from my Chamber lying by . his Chamber-door) I went down ioftly without my Shoes, and as loon as the Maid had opened I 2 the 9 3 The H I S T O R Y 1661. the Door, I went out (though too early) and 5*V° walk'd towards the Meeting at Meadle, four long Miles off. I expected to have been talked with about it when I came home, but heard nothing of it, my Father refolving to watch me better next Time. This I was aware of ; and therefore on the next Firft-day I got up early, went down foftly, and hid myfelf in a Back-room before the Maid was ftirring. When fhe was up, (he went into my Father's Chamber for the Keys ; but he bid her leave them till he was up, and he would bring them down himfelf ; which he did, and tarried in the Kitchen, through which he expected I would go. The manner was, That when the common Doors were opened, the Keys were hung upon a Pin in the Hall. While therefore my Father ftaid in the Kitchen expecting my coming, I flepping gently out of the Room where I was, reached the Keys, and opening another Door (not often ufed) flipped out and fo got away. I thought I had gone off undifcovered. But whether my Father faw me through a Win- dow, or by what other means he knew of my going, I know not ; but I had gone but a little Way, before I faw him coming after me. The Sight of him put me to a Stand in my Mind, whether I mould go on or ftop. Had it been in any other Cafe than that of going to a Meeting, I could not in any wife have gone a Step Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 99 Step further. But I confidered, that the Intent 1661. of my Father's endeavouring to ftop me, was ^V° to hinder me from obeying the Call of my heavenly Father, and to flop me from going to worfhip Him in the Affcmbly of His People ; upon this I found it my Duty to go on, and obierving that my Father gained Ground upon me, I fomewhat mended my Pace. This he obferving, mended his Pace alfo, and at length ran. Whereupon I ran alfo ; and a fair Courfe we had through a large Meadow of his, which lay behind his Houfe and out of Sight of the Town. He was not, I fup- pofe, then above fifty Years of Age, and being light of Body and nimble of Foot, he held me to it for a while. But afterwards flacking his Pace to take Breath, and obferving that I had gotten Ground *of him, he turned back and went home ; and (as I afterwards underftood) telling my Sifters how I had ferved him, he faid, Nay, if he will take fo much Pains to go, let him go if he will. And from that Time for- ward he never attempted to ftop me, but left me to my Liberty, to go when and whither I would ; yet kept me at the ufual Diftance, avoiding the Sight of me as much as he could, as not able to bear the Sight of my Hat on, nor willing to contend with me again about it. Nor was it long after this, before I was left not only to myfelf, but in a manner by myfelf. For the Time appointed for the Coronation of the King (which was the 23d of the fecond Month, called April) drawing on, my Father I 3 taking 300 The HISTORY 1661. taking my two Sifters with him, went up to W London fome Time before, that they might be there in Readiriefs, and put themfelves into a Condition to fee that fo great a Solemnity, leaving no body in the Houfe but myfelf and a couple of Servants. And though this was in- tended only for a Vifit on that Occafion, yet it proved the Breaking of the Family j for he be- llowed both his Daughters there in Marriage, and took Lodgings for himfelf, fo that after- wards they never returned to fettle at Crowell. Being now at Liberty, I walked over to Aylef- bury y with fome other Friends, tovifit my dear Friend Ijaac Peni?igton y who was flill a Prifoner there. With him I found dear John Whitehead, and between fixty and feventy moie, being well nigh all the Men Friends that were then in the County of Bucks ; many of them were taken out of their Houfts by armed Men, and fent to Piifon (as I had been) for refuting to Swear. Moft of thefe were thruft into an old Room behind the Goal, which had anciently been a Malt-houfe, but was now fo decayed, that it was fcarce fit for a Dog-honfe. And fo open it lay, that the Prifoners might have gone out at pleafure. But thefe were purpofely put there, in Confidence that they would not go out, that there might be Room in the Prifon for others, of other Profellions and Names, whom the Goaler did not truft there. While this Imprifonment lafted, which was for fome Months, I went afterwards thither fometimes to vifit my buffering Brethren j and becaufe 0/ T. Ellwood's LIFE. i o i becaufe it was a pretty long Way (fome eight 1661. or nine Miles) too far to be walked forward V "V J , and backward in one Day, I fometimes ftaid a Day or two there, and lay in the Malt-houfe among my Friends, with whom I delighted to be. After this Imprifonment was over, I went fometimes to Ifaac Peningtons Houfe at Chal- Jbnt t to viiit that Family and the Friends there- abouts. There was then a Meeting, for the mod: part, twice a Week in his Houfe ; but one Firft-day in four, there was a more general Meeting (which was thence called the Monthly- Meeting) to which reforted raoft of the Friends of other adjacent Meetings j and to that I ufbally went, and fometimes made fome Stay there. Here I came acquainted with a Friend of London, whofe Name was Richard Greenaway, by Trade a laylar, a very honeft Man, and one who had received a Gift for the Miniflry. He, having been formerly in other Profef- fions of Religion, had then been acquainted with one jfohn Ovy of Watlington in Oxford/hire, ( a Man of fome Note among the Profeilors there ) and underftanding, upon Enquiry, that I knew him, he had fome Difcourfe with me about him. The Refult whereof was, that he, having an Intention then fhortly to vifit fome Meetings of Friends in this County, and the adjoining Parts of Oxford/hire and Berkjhire, invited me to meet him (upon Notice given) and to bear him Company in that Journey ; I 4 and 302 The HISTORY 1 66 1. an d in the Way bring him to John Ovy's Houfe, Vy*" with whom I was well acquainted j which I did. We were kindly received, the Man and his Wife being very glad to fee both their old Friend Richard Greenaway and me alfo, whom they had been very well acquainted with for- merly, but had never feen me fince I was a Quaker. Here we tarried that Night, and in the Even- ing had a little Meeting there with fome few of John Ovy's People, amongft whom Richard Greenaway declared the Truth ; which they attentively heard and did not oppofe, which at that time of Day we reckoned was pretty well j for many were apt to cavil. This Vint gave John Ovy an Opportunity to enquire of me after Ifaac Penington, whofe Writings (thofe which he had written before he came among Friends) he had read, and had a great Efteem of ; and he exprefs'd a Defire to fee him, that he might have fome Dilccurfe with him, if he knew how. Whereupon I told him, that if he would take the Pains to go to his Houfe, I would bear him Company thither, introduce him, and engage he mould have a kind Reception. This pleafed him much ; and he embracing the Offer, I undertook to give him Notice of a fuitable Time ; which (after I had gone this little Journey with my Friend Richard Greena- way, and was returned) I did, making Choice of the Monthly -meeting to go to. We Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 103 We met by Appointment at ^token-Church ', i66r. with our Staves in our Hands like a couple of ^V** Pilgrims, intending to walk on Foot ; and having taken fome Re f rem men t and Reft at Wiccomb, went on cheerfully in the Afternoon, entertaining each other with grave and religious Bifcourfe, which made the Walk the eafier, and fo reached thither in good Time, on the Seventh-day of the Week. I gave my Friends an Account who this Per- fon was, whom I had brought to vifit them, and the Ground of his Vifit. He had been a Profeflbr of Religion, from his Childhood to his old Age (for he was now both grey-headed, and elderly) and was a Teacher at this Time, and had long been fo amongft a People, whe- ther Indepe?idants or Baptifts, I do not well re- member. And fo well thought of he was, for his Zeal and Honefty, that in thofe late pro- feffing Times, he was thruft into the CommiJJion of the Peace, and thereby lifted up upon the Bench ; which neither became him, nor he it. For he wanted indeed moil: of the Qualifica- tions requifite for a Juftice of the Peace ; an Eftate to defray the Charge of the Office, and to bear him up in a Courfe of living above Contempt ; a competent Knowledge in the Laws, and a Prefence of Mind or Body, or both, to keep Offenders in fome Awe ; in all which he was deficient. For he was but a Felt- monger by Trade, accuftomed to ride upon his Pack of Skins ; and had very little Eftate ; as little Knowledge in the Law j and of but a mean 104 T* principled againft it j which we were, and had been always known to be fo. That our Meet- ings were publick, our Doors (landing open to all Comers, of all Ages, Sexes and Perfwa- fions ; Men, Women and Children, and thofe that were not of our Religion, as well as thofe that were ; and that it was next to Madnefs, for People to plot in fuch Meetings. He told us, We muft find Sureties for our good Behaviour , and to an/wer our Contempt of the Kings Proclamation at the next General Quarter- SeJJions ; or elfe he muft commit us. We told him, That knowing our Innocency, and that we had not mif- behaved ourfdves, nor did meet in Contempt of the King's Autho- rity, but purely in Obedience to the LOR D T s Requirings, to worfhip Him, which we held ourfelves in Duty bound to do, we could not confent to be bound, for that would imply Guilt, which we were free from. Then, faid he, I muft commit you : And or- dered his Clerk to make a Mittimus. And di- vers Mittimujjes were made, but none of them would hold ; for (till, when they came to be read, we found fuch Flaws in them, as made him throw them afide and write more. He had his Eye often upon me, for I was a young Man, and had at that Time a black Suit on. At length he bid me follow him, and went into a private Room and (but the Door p upon me. I knew Of T, Ell wood's LIFE. 109 I knew not what he meant by this ; but 1 1661. cried in Spirit to the Lord, that He would ^V*, be pleafed to be a Mouth and Wifdom to me, and keep me from being entangled in any Snare. He afked me many Queftions concerning my Birth, my Education, my Acquaintance in Oxfordjhire ; particularly what Men of Note I knew there. To all which I gave him brief, but plain and true Anfwers, naming feveral Families of the befl Rank, in that Part of the Country where I dwelt. He ailced me, How long 1 had been of this l¥a\\ and how I came to be of it f Which when I had given him fome Account of, he began to perfwadc me to leave it, and return to the right Way (the Church, as he called it.) I defired him to (pare his Pains in that Refpect, and forbear any Difcourfe of that kind, for that I was fully fatisfied, the Way I was in was the right Way, and hoped the Lord would fo preferve me in it, • that nothing mould be able to draw or drive me out of it. He feemed not pleafed with that ; and thereupon went out to the reft of the Com- pany, and I followed him, glad in my Heart that I had efcaped fo well, and praiiing God ior my Deliverance. When he had taken his Seat again at the upper End of a fair Hall, he told us, he was not willing to take the utmcft Rigour of the Law againft us, but would be as favourable to us as he could. And therefore he would dis- charge, he faid, Mr. Penington himfelf, becaufe he no Tfo HISTORY — .— i i ■ ■ ■■ — ■- ' - -- ■ — i ■ _ — _ ^ i66i.he was but at home in his own Houfe. And ,W° he would difcharge Mr. Penington of London f becaufe he came but as a Relation to vifit his Brother. And he would difcharge the Grocer of Colchejler, becaufe he came to bear Mr. Peri" ington of London Company, and to be acquaint- ed with Mr. lfaac Penington, whom he had never feen before. And as for thofe others of us, who were of this Country, he would dif- charge them, for the prefent at leaft, becaufe they being his Neighbours, he could fend for them when he would. But as for you, fa id he to George Whitehead and me, / can fee no Bufinefs you had there ; and therefore I intend to hold you to it, either to give Bail, or go to Goal. We told him we could not give Bail. 7 hen, faid he, you mufi go to Goal ; and thereupon he began to write our Mittimus ; which puzzled him again. For he had difcharged fo many, that he was at a Lofs what to lay as the Ground of our Commitment, whofe Cafe dif- fered nothing in reality from theirs whom he had difcharged. At length, having made divers Draughts f which Jftill George Whitehead (hewed him the Defecls of) he feemed to be weary of us ; and rifing up faid unto us, 1 confider that it is grown late in the Day, fo that the Officer cannot carry you to Aylefbury to Night, and 1 fuppofe you will be willing to go back with Mr. Penington ; therefore if you will promife to be forth- coming at his Houfe To-morrow Morning, I will difmifs xoa 'Of T. EtL wood's LIFE. in y — — — , you for the prefent, and you fiall hear from me i66u again To-morrow. ^V"* We told him, we did intend, if he did not otherwife difpofe of us > to fpend that Night with our Friend Ifaac Pcnington^ and would (if the Lord gave us Leave) be there in the Morning, ready to anfwer his Requirings. Whereupon he difmift us all, willing, as we thought, to be rid of us j for he feemed not to be of an ill Temper* nor defirous to put us to Trouble if he could help iti Back then we went to Ifaac Tenlngtorh. But when we were come thither, O the Work we had with poor John Ovy ! He was fo dejected in Mind, (o covered with Shame and Confufion of Face for his Cowardlinefs, that we had enough to do to pacify him towards himfelf, The Place he had found out to melter him- felf in, was fo commodioufly contrived, that undifcovered he could difcern when the Soldiers went off with us, and underftand when the Buttle was over, and the Coaft clear. Where- upon he adventured to peep out of his Hole, and in a while drew near, by degrees, to the Houfe again ; and finding all Things quiet and flill, he adventured to ilep within the Doors, and found the Friends, who were left behind,! peaceahly fettled in the Meeting again, The Sight of this fmote him, and made him fit down among them. And after the Meeting was ended, and the Friends departed to their feveral Homes, addreffing himfelf to Mary Penington (as the Miftrefs of the Houfe) * K he 112 72* HISTORY 1 66 1. he could not enough magnify the Bravery and ^'Y Courage of the Friends, nor fufficiently debafe himfelf. He told her how long he had been a ProfelTor, what Pains he had taken, what Hazards he had run, in his youthful Days, to get to Meetings ; how, when the Ways were forelaid, and PafTages ftopt, he fwam through Rivers to reach a Meeting ; And now, (aid he, that I am grown old in the ProfeJJion of Re- ligion, and have long been a?i InjlruSlor and En- courager of others ; that IJJjould thus Jhamejully fall fiort myfelf, is matter of Shame and Sorrow to me. Thus he bewailed himfelf to her. And when we came back, he renewed his Com- plaints of himfelf to us, with high Aggrava- tions of his own Cowardice. Which gave Occafion to fome of the Friends, tenderly to reprefent to him the Difference between Pro- feffion and Poffeffion ; Form and Power. He was glad, hefaid, on our Behalf s, that we came off fo well, and efcaped Imprifonment, But when he underftood that George White- head and I were liable to an After-reckoning next Morning, he was troubled ; and wim'd the Morning was come and gone, that we might be gone with it. We fpent the Evening in grave Conven- tion, and in religious Difcoudes, attributing the Deliverance, we hitherto had, to the Lord. And the next Morning when we were up and had eaten, we tarried fome Time to fee what . the Joftice would do further with us, and to difcharge 0/ T. ElMvood's LIFE. HJ difcharge our Engagement to hfcn -, the reff. of :66i. the Fiiends, who were before fully discharged, ^v^ tarrying alfo with us to fee the Event. And when we had (laid fo long, that on all Hands it was concluded we might fafely go, George Whitehead and I left a few Words in Writing, to be fent to the Juftice, if he fent after us, importing that we had tarried till fuch an Hour, and not hearing from him, did now hold ourfelves free to depart ; yet fo, as that if he mould have Occafion to fend for us again, upon Notice thereof we would return. This done, we took our Leave of the Family, and one of another ; they who were for Lon- don taking Horfe, and I and my Companion, fetting forth on Foot for Oxfordfiire, went to Wiccomb, where we made a (hort Stay to red: and refrefh ourfelves, and from thence reached our refpeclive Homes that Night. After I had fpent fome Time at home, where, as I had no Reflraint, fo (my Sifters being gene) I had now no Society, I walked up to Chalfont again, and fpent a few Days with my Friends there. As foon as I came in, I was told, that my Father had been there that Day to fee IJaac Penington and his Wife ; but they being abroad at a Meeting, he returned to his Inn in the Town, where he intended to lodge that Night. After Supper, Mary Penington told me, me had a mind to go and fee him at his Inn (the Woman of the Houfe being a Friend of ours) and I went with her. He feem'd fomewhat K 2 furprized ii 4 7& HISTORY i66i.furprized to fee me there, becaufe he thought*I W 1 ^ had been at home at his Houfe j but he took no Notice of my Hat, at leaft (hewed no Offence at it ; for, as I afterwards underftood, he had now an Intention to fell his Eftate, and thought he mould need my Concurrence therein ; which made him now hold it neceffary to admit me again into fome degree of Favour. After we had tarried fome little Time with him, fhe riling up to be gone, he waited on her home, and having fpent about an Hour with us in the Family, I waited on him back to his Inn. On the Way, he invited me to come up to London to fee my Sifters j the younger of whom was then newly married, and directed me where to find them ; and alfo gave me Money to defray my Charges. Accordingly I went ; yet ftaid not long there, but returned to my Friend Ifaac Peningtoris where I made a little Stay, and from thence went back to Crowell. When I was ready to fet forth, my Friend Ifaac Penington was fo kind to fend a Servant with a Brace of Geldings, to carry me as far as I thought fit to ride, and to bring the Horfes back. I, intending to go no farther that Day than to Wiccomb^ rode no farther than to Beacons- field Town's-end, having then but five Miles to walk. But here a new Exercife befel me, the manner of which was thus : Before I had walked to the Middle of the Town, I was fiopt and taken up by the Watch. I afked the Watchman, What Au- thority he had to flop me, travelling peaceably on Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 115 on the High-way ? He told me he would mew 1661. me his Authority ; and in order thereunto, W^ had me into an Houfe hard-by, where dwelt a Scrivener whofe Name was Pepys. To him he gave the Order which he had received from the Conftables, which directed him to take up all Rogues, Vagabonds and fturdy Beggars. I afked him, For which of thefe he flopped me ; but he could not anfwer me. I thereupon informed him, what a Rogue in Law is, viz. One, who for fome notorious Offence was burnt on the Shoulder ; and I told them, they might fearch me if they pleafed, and fee if I was fo branded. A Vagabond, I told them, was One that had no D we I ling- houfe, nor certain Place of abode ; but I had, and was going to it ; and I told them where it was. And for a Beggar, I bid them bring any one that could fay, I had begged or ajked Relief. This ftopt the Fellow's Mouth, yet he would not let me go ; but, being both weak- headed and ftrong-wilied, he left me there with the Scrivener, and went out to feek the Conftable ; and having found him, brought him thither. He was a young Man, by Trade a Tanner, fomewhat better mannered than his Wardfman, but not of much better Judg- ment. He took me with him to his Houfe. And having fettled me there, went out to take Ad- vice, as I fuppofed, what to do with me ; leaving no Body in the Houfe to guard me, K 3 but 1x6 The H I S T O R Y i66i.but his Wife, who had a young Child in her ^V* Arms. She enquired of me, upon what Account I was taken up j and feeming to have fome Pity for me, endeavoured to perfwade me not to flay, but to go my way ; offering to mew me a Back-way fjom their Houfe, which would bring me into the Road again beyond the Town, io that none of the Town mould fee me, or know what was become of me. But I told her, J could not do fo. Then having fate a while in a muze, me afked me, If there was not a Place of Scripture which [aid, Peter was at a Tanner s Houfe ? I told her there was fuch a Scripture, and directed her where to find it. After fome Time, (he laid her Child to deep in the Cradle, and ftept out on a fudden j but came not in again in a pretty while. I was uneafy that I was left alone in the Houfe, fearing left, if any Thing mould be milling, I might be fufpecled to have taken it j yet I durft not go out to ftand in the Street, left it fhould be thought I intended to flip away. But befides that, I foon found Woik to im- ploy jjiyfelf in 5 for the Child quickly waking, fell to crying, and I was fain to rock the Cradle in my own -Defence, that I might not be annoyed with a Noife, to me not more un- pjeafant than unufual. At length the Woman ne in again, and finding me nurfing the Child, Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. n 7 Child, gave me many Thanks, and feemed 1661. well plealed with my Company. u r-' When Night came on, the Conftable him- felf came in again, and told me, Some of the Chief of the Town were met together, to confder what was Jit to do with trie ; and that 1 miift go with him to them. I went, and he brought me to a little natty Hut, which they called a Town- houfe (adjoining to their Market - houfe) in which dwelt a poor old Woman whom they called Mother Grime, where alfo the Watch ufed by Turns, to come in and warm themfelves in the Night. When I came in among them, they looked (fome of them) fomewhat fourly on me, and aik'd me fome impertinent Queftions -, to which I gave them {likable Anfvvers. Then they confulted one with another, how they mould difpofe of me that Night, till they cculd have me before fome Juftice of Peace to be examined. Some propofed, That I frjould be had to fome Inn, or other public k Houfe, and a Guard jet on me there. He that ftarted this was probably an Inn-keeper, and confuited his own Intereil:. Others objected againfl this, That it would bring a Charge on the Town. To avoid which, they were for having the Watch take Charge of me, and keep me walking about the Streets with them till Morning. Mofl Voices feemed to go this Way ; till a third wifned them to confider, JVheiher they could anfwer the doing of that, and the Law would bear them out in it ? And this put them to a • K 4 Stand. tkft The H I S T O R Y $*- a — . — — Hi 1 66 1. Stand, I heard all their Debates, but let them &Y** alone, and kept my Mind to the Lord. While they thus bandied the Matter to and fro, one of the Company afked the reft, If any ef them knew who this young Man was, and whi- ther he- was going? Whereupon the Conflable (to whom I had given both my Name, and the Name of the Town where I dwelt) told them my Name was Ellwood, and that I lived at a Town called Crowell in Oxfordfii re. Old mother Grime, fitting by and hearing this> clap'd her Hand on her Knee, and cry'd out, I know Mr. Ellwood of Crowell very well. For when I was a Maid I lived with his Grand- father there , when he was a young Man. And thereupon me gave them fuch an Account of my Father, as made them look more regardfully ©n me ; and fo Mother Grime's Teftimony turned the Scale, and took me off from walking the Rounds with the Watch that Night. The Conftable hereupon bid them take no further Care, I mould lie at his Houfe that Night, and accordingly took me home with him, where I had as good Accommodation as the Houfe did afford. Before I went to Bed, he told me, That there was to be a Vijitation, or Spiritual Court (as he called it) holden next Day at Amerfham, about four Miles from Beacons^ field, and that I was to be carried thither. This was a new Thing to me, and it brought a frefh Exercife upon my Mind. But being given up, in the Will of God, to fuffer what He Of T. Ellwood's LIFE. 119 He fhould permit to be laid on me, I endea-1661. voured to keep my Mind quiet and ftill. *OP*> In the Morning, as foon as I was up, my Spirit was exercifed towards the Lord, in ftrong Cries to Him, that He would ftand by me, and preferve me, and not fuffer me to be taken, in the Snare of the Wicked. While I was thus crying to the Lord, the other Conftable came, and I was called down. This was a budge Fellow, and talked high. He was a Shoe-maker by Trade, and his Name was Clark, He threat'ned me with the Spiri- tual Court. But when he faw I did not re- gard it, he ftopt, and left the Matter to his Partner, who pretended more Kindnefs for me, and therefore went about to perfwade Clark, to let me go out at the Back-door, fo Hip away. The Plot, I fuppofe, was fo laid, that Clark mould feem averfe, but at length yield, which he did j but would have me take it for a Favour. But I was fo far from taking it fo, that I would not take it at all 5 but told them plainly, That as I came in at the Fore-door, fo I would go out at the Fore-door. When there- fore they faw they could not bow me to their Will, they brought me out at the Fore-door into the Street, and wifhed me a good Journey. Yet before I went, calling for the Woman of the Houfe, I paid her for my Supper and Lodg- ing, for I had now got a little Money in my Pocket again. After 120 ^HISTORY 1661. After this I got home (as I thought) very W^ well ; but I had not been long at home, before an Ilnefs feized on me, which proved to be the Small-pox. Of which, fo foon as Friends had Notice, I had a Nurfe fent me ; and in a while Jfaac Penington, and his Wife's Daughter Gu- lielma Maria Springeit (to whom I had been Play-fellow in our Infancy) came to vifit me, bringing with them our dear Friend Edward Burroughs by whofc Miniilry I was called to the Knowledge of the Truth. It pleafed the Lord to deal favourably with me in this Ilnefs, both inwardly and outward- ly. For Hisfupporting Prefence was with me, which kept my Spirit near unto Him ; and though the Diflemper was ftrong upon me, yet I was preferved through it, and my Coun- tenance was not much altered by it. But after I was got up again, and while I kept my Chamber, wanting fome Employment for En- tertainment-fake, to fpend the Time with, and there being at hand a pretty good Library of Books (amongfl which were the Works of Aiigiiftine^ and others of thofe ancient Writers, who were by many called the Fathers) I be- took myfelf to Reading. And thefe Books being printed in the old Black-letter, with Ab- breviations of the Words, difficult to be read, I fpent too much Time therein, and thereby much impaired my Sight, which was not flrong before, and was now weaker than ufual, by reafon of the Ilnefs I had fo newly had, which 0} T. Ellwood's LIFE. 121 which proved an Injury to me afterwards j for 166 1. which Reafon I here mention it. ^ After I was wdl enough to go abroad, with refpect to my own Health, and the Safety of others, I went up (in the Beginning of the Twelfth Month 1661) to my Friend Jfaac Pen- jngton's at Chaljont, and abode theie fome Time, for the airing myfelf more fully, that I might be more fit for Converfation. I mentioned before, that when I was a Boy, 1662. I had made fome good Progrefs in Learning, ^V* and loll it all again before I came to be a Man ; nor was I rightly fenfible of my Lofs therein, until I came amongft the Quakers. But then I both faw my Lofs, and lamented it ; and applied myfelf with utmofl: Diligence, at all leifure Times, to recover it ; fo falfe I found that Charge to be, which in thofe Times was cafr, as a Reproach upon the Quakers, That they defpifed and decried all human Learning ; becaufe they denied it to be effentially neceffary to a Gofpel- mini [fry y which was one of the Con- troverlies of thofe Times. But though I toiled hard and fpared no Pains, to regain what once I had been Mafter of; yet I found it a Matter of fo great Difficulty, that I was ready to fay as the noble Eunuch to Philip in another Cale, How can 1, uniefs I had fome Man to guide me ? This I had formerly complained of to my efpecial Friend Ifaac Penington* but now more earneftiy ; which put him upon conlideiing, an$ contriving a Means for my AiTifbnce. He 122 7&r HISTORY • ' ■ — — — ' ■ m 1662. He had an intimate Acquaintance with Dr. UyO J>aget, a Phyfician of Note in London, and he with John Milton, a Gentleman of great Note for Learning throughout the learned World, for the accurate Pieces he had written on va- rious Subjects and Occafions. This Perfon, having filled a publick Station in the former Times, lived now a private and retired Life in London ; and having wholly loft his Sight, kept always a Man to read to him, which ufually was the Son of fome Gentleman of his- Acquaintance, whom, in Kindnefs, he took to improve in his Learning. Thus, by the Mediation of my Friend Ifaac Penington with Dr. Paget, and of Dr. Paget with John Milton, was I admitted to come to him -, not as a Servant to him (which at that Time he needed not) nor to be in the Houfe with him ; but only to have the Liberty of coming to his Houfe, at certain Hours, when I would, and to read to him what Books he fhould appoint me j which was all the Favour I defired. But this being a Matter which would re- quire fome Time to bring it about, I, in the mean while, returned to my Father's Houfe in Oxford/hire. I had before received Direction, by Letters from my eldeft Sifter (written by my Father's Command) to put off what Cattle he had left about his Houfe, and to difcharge his Servants ; which I had done at the Time culled Michaelmas before. So that all that Winter, when I was at Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 123 at Home, I lived, like an Hermit all alone, 1662. having a pretty large Houfe, and no Body in **V* it but myfelf, a-nights efpecially ; but an el- derly Woman, whofe Father had been an old Servant to the Family, came every Morning and made my Bed, and did what elfe I had occafion for her to do, till I fell ill of the Small-pox, and then I had her with me, and the Nurie. But now, underftanding by Letter from my Sifter, that my Father did not intend to return to fettle there, I made off thofe Pro- vifions which were in the Houfe, that they might not be fpoiled when I was gone ; and becaufe they were what I mould have fpent, if I had tarried there, I took the Money made of them to myfelf, for my Support at London, if the Project fucceeded for my going thither. This done, I committed the Care of the Houfe to a Tenant of my Father's, who lived in the Town, and taking my Leave of Crowell, went up to my fure Friend Ifaac Penington again. Where underftanding that the Media- tion ufed for my Admittance to John Milton, had fucceeded fo well, that I might come when I would, I haftned to London, and in the firft Place went to wait upon him. He received me courteouily, as well for the fake of Dr. Paget who introduced me, as of Ifaac Penington who recommended me ; to both whom he bore a good Refpect. And having enquired divers Things of me, with refpect to my former Progreffion in Learning, he dilmift me, to provide myfelf of fuch Accom^ modations 124 ^HISTORY i 1662. modations as might be mofl fuitable lo my W^ future Studies. I went therefore and took myfelf a Lodging as near to his Houfe (which was then in Jewen- ftreet) as conveniently as I could, and from thenceforward went every Day in the After- noon, except on the Firft-days of the Week, and fitting by him in his Dining-room, read to him in iuch Books in the Latin Tongue as he pleafed to hear me read. At my firft fitting to read to him, obferving that I uied the Englifh Pronounciation, he told me, If I would have the Benefit of the Latin tongue, not only to read and under /land Latin Authors, but to conver/e with Foreigners, either abroad or at home, I mufi learn the foreign Pro-* nounciaticn. To this I confenting, he instruct- ed me how to found the Vowels ; fo different from the common Pronounciation ufed by the Englijlo, who fpeak Anglice their Latin, that (with fome few other Variations in founding fome Confonants, in particular Cafes ; as C be- fore E or 7, like Ch. Sc before I, like Sh, &c.) the Latin thus fpoken, feemed as different from that which was delivered, as the Engli/lj gene- rally fpeak it, as if it were another Language. I had before, during my retired Life at my Father's, by unwearied Diligence and Induftry, fo far recovered the Rules of Grammar (in which I had once been very ready) that I could both read a Latin Author, and after a Sort hammer out his Meaning. But this Change of Pronounciation proved a new Difficulty to* me. 0/ T, Ellwood's LIFE. 125 me. It was now harder to me to read, than it 1662. was before to underhand when read. But Vv* Labor omnia vincit Improbus. Inceflant Pains, The End obtains. And 10 did I. Which made my Reading the more acceptable to my Mafter. He, on the other hand, perceiving with what earneft De- firc 1 purfued Learning, gave me not only all the Encouragement, but all the Help he could. For, having a curious Ear, he underftood by my Tone, when I underflood what I read, and when I did not ; and accordingly would flop me, examine me, and open the mofl difficult Faffages to me. Thus went I on for about fix Weeks time, reading to him in the Afternoons ; and exerci- iing myfelf with my own Books, in my Cham- ber in the Forenoons, I was fenfible of an Improvement. But, alas ! I had fixed my Studies in a wrong Place. London and I could never agree for Flealth ; my Lung?, as I fuppofe, were too tender to bear the fulphurcus,Air of that City, fo that I fcon began to droop ; and in lefs than two Months time, I was fain to leave both my Studies and the City, and return into the Coun- try to preferve Life 5 and much ado I had to get thither. I chofe 126 ?& HISTORY 1662. I chofe to go down to Wiccomb, and to John Vv° Ranees Houfe there ; both as he was a Phyfi- cian, and his Wife an honeft, hearty, difcreet and grave Matron, whom I had a very good Efteem of, and who I knew had a good Re- gard for me. There I lay ill a confiderable Time, and to that degree of Weaknefs, that fcarce any who faw me, expected my Life. But the Lord was both gracious to me in my Unefs, and was pleafed to raife me up again, that I might ferve Him in my Generation. As foon as I had recovered fo much Strength as to be fit to travel, I obtained of my Father (who was then at his Houfe in Crowell to difpofe of fome Things he had there, and who in my Unefs had come to fee me) fo much Money as would clear all Charges in the Houfe, for both Phyfick, Food and Attendance j and having fully difcharged all, I took Leave of my Friends in that Family and in the Town, and returned to my Studies at London. I was very kindly received by my Mafter, who had conceived fo good an Opinion of me, that my Converfation (I found) was acceptable to him, and he feem'd heartily glad of my Re- covery and Return -, and into our old Method of Study we fell again, I reading to him, and he explaining to me, as Occafion required. But, as if Learning had been a forbidden Fruit to me, fcarce was I well fettled in my Work, before I met with another Diverfion, which turned me quite out of my Work. For Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 127 «<• ■ •• ■ • . • ■ For a fudden Storm arifing, from I know not 1662. what Surmife of a Plot, and thereby Danger to **V** the Government ; and the Meetings of Dif- fenters (fuch I mean as could be found, which perhaps were not maoy befides the Quakers) were broken up throughout the City, and the Prifons moftly filled with our Friends. I was that Morning, which was the 26th Day of the eighth Month 1662, at the Meeting at the Bull and Mouth by Alderfgate y when on a fudden, a Party of Soldiers (of the Trained- bands of the City) rufhed in with Noife and Clamour, being led by one who was called Major Rofewell, an Apothecary (if I mifremem- ber not) and at that Time under the ill Name of a Papifl, As foon as he was come within the Room,' having a File or two of Mufketteers at his Heels, he commanded his Men to prefent their Mulkets at us, which they did j with Intent, I fuppofe, to ftrike a Terror into the People* Then he made a Proclamation that all, who were not Quakers, might depart if they would. It fo happened, that a young Man, an Ap- prentice in London, whofe Name was — » Dove, (the Son of Dr. Dove of Chinner, near Crowell in Oxfordshire) came that Day in Curioiity to fee the Meeting ; and coming early, and find- ing me there (whom he knew) came and fate down by me. As foon as he heard the Noife of Soldiers, he was much ftartled, and afked me foftly, If I would not Jlnft for my f elf and try to get out. L I told i28 ^HISTORY 1 662. 1 told him, No $ I was in my Place, and was y>T^ willing to fuffer if it was my Lot. When he heard the Notice given, that they who were not Quakers might depart , he folicited me again to be gone. I told him, I could not do lb, for that would be to renounce my Profemon, which I would by no means do. But as for him, who was not one of us, he might do as he pleafed. Whereupon, wifhing me well, he turned away, and with Cap in Hand went out. And truly I was glad he was gone, for his Matter was a rigid Prejbyterian, who, in all likelihood, would have led him a wretched Life, had he been taken and imprifoned among the Quakers. The Soldiers came fo early, that the Meeting was not fully gathered when they came 5 and when the mixt Company were gone out, we were fo few, and fate fo thin in that large Room, that they might tak>e a clear View of us all, and lingle us out as they pleafed. He that commanded the Party, gave us firft a general Charge to come out of the Room. But we, who came thither at God's Requirings, to wormip Him (like that good Man of old, who faid, We ought to obey God rather than Me?? y Ads v. 29.) ftirred not, but kept our Places. Whereupon he fent fome of his Soldiers among us, with Command to drag or drive us out ; which they did roughly enough. When we came out into the Street, we were received there by other Soldiers, who with their Pikes holden length-ways from one another, encompaffed Of T. Ell wood's LI F E. 129 encompafled us round as Sheep in a Pound 51662. and there we flood a pretty Time, while they U V J , were picking up more to add to our Number. In this Work none feemed fo eager and active as their Leader, Major Rofewell. Which I obferving, ftept boldly to him, as he was paffing by me, and afked him, If he intended a Ma]] acre ? For of that, in thofe Times, there was a great Apprehenfion and Talk. The Sud- dennefs of the Queftion, from fuch a young Man efpecially, fomewhat flartled him j but recollecting himfelf, he anfwered, No -, but I intend to have you all hanged by the wholfome Laws of the Land. When he had gotten as many as he could, or thought fit, which were in Number Thirty- two, whereof two were catch'd up in the Street, who had not been at the Meeting, he ordered the Pikes to be opened before us ; and giving the Word to March, went himfelf at the Head of us, the Soldiers with their Pikes making a Lane to keep us from fcattering. He led us up Martins, and fo turned down to Newgate, where I expected he would have lodged us. But, to my Difappointment, he went on through Newgate, and turning through the Old-Bailey, brought us into Fleet- ftreet. I was then wholly at a Lofs, to conjecture whither he would lead us, unlefs it were to Whitehall, for I knew nothing then of Old '- Bridewell ; but on a fudden he gave a fhort Turn, and brought us before the Gate of that Priloo, where knocking, the Wicket was forthwith L 2 opened, i;o The HISTORY 1662. opened, and the Mafter with his Porter ready W** to receive us. One of thofe two who were picked up in the Street, being near me, and telling me his Cafe, I ftept to the Major, and told him, That this Man was not at the Meeting, but was taken up in the Street ; and fhew'd him how hard and unjuft a Thing it would be, to put him into Prifon. I had not pleafed him before in the Queftion I had put to him about a MafTacre ; and that, I fuppofe, made this Solicitation lefs acceptable to him from me, than it might have been from fome other. For looking flernly on me, he faid, Who are you, that take Jo much upon you ? Seeing you are Jo bufy, you /hall be the fir ft Man that /Jo all go into Bridewell ; and taking me by the Shoulders, he thruft me in. As foon as I was in, the Porter pointing with his Finger, directed me to a fair Pair of Stairs on the further Side of a large Court, and bid me go up thofe Stairs, and go on till I could go no further. Accordingly I went up the Stairs ; the firft Flight whereof brought me to a fair Chapel on my left Hand, which I could look into through the iron Grates, but could not have gone into if I would. I knew that was not a Place for me. Where- fore following my Direction, and the winding of the Stairs, I went up a Story higher, which brought me into a Room, which I foon perceiv- ed to be a Court -room, or Place of 'Judicature. After Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 131 After I had flood awhile there, and taken a 1662. View of it, obferving a Door on the further ^P* Side, I went to it and opened it, with Inten- tion to go in j but I quickly drew back, being almoft affrighted at the Difmalnefs of the Place. For befides that the Walls quite round were laid all over, from Top to Bottom in Black, there flood in the Middle of it a great Whipping-poft, which was all the Furniture it had. In one of thefe two Rooms Judgment was given, and in the other it was executed on thofe ill People, who for their Lewdnefs were fent to this Prifon, and there fentenced to be whip'd. Which was fo contrived, that the Court might not only hear, but fee, if they pleafed, their Sentence executed. A Sight fo unexpected, and withal fo unpleaf- ing, gave me no Encouragement either to reft, or indeed to enter at all there j till looking ear- nestly, I fpy'd on the oppofite Side a Door, which giving me Hopes of a further Progrefs, I adventured to ftep nattily to it, and opened it. This let me into one of the faireft Rooms that, fo far as I remember, I was ever in, and no wonder ; for though it was now put to this mean Ufe, it had, for many Ages paft, been the Royal Seat or Palace of the Kings of Eng- land, until Cardinal Woolfey built Whitehall, and offered it as a Peace Offering to King Henry the eighth ; who until that Time had kept his Court in this Houfe, and had this, as the People in the Houfe reported, for his Dining-room, by which Name it then went. L 3 This 132 The HISTORY 1662. This Room in Length, for I lived long .W° enough in it to have Time to meafure it, was Threefcore Feet ; and had Breadth proportion- able to it. In it, on the Front-fide, were very large Bay-windows, in which flood a large Table. It had other very large Tables in it, with Benches round ; and at that Time the Floor was covered with Rufhes, againfl fome folemn Feflival, which I heard it was befpoken for. Here was my Nil ultra, and here I found I might fet up my Pillar ; for although there was a Door out of it, to a Back-pair of Stairs which led to it, yet that was kept locked. So that finding I had now followed my Keeper's Di- rection to the utmofl Point, beyond which I could not go, I fate down and confidered that rhetorical Saying, That the Way to Heaven lay by the Gate of Hell ; the Black-room, through which I pafled into this, bearing fome Refem- blance to the latter, as this comparatively and by way of Allufion, might in fome fort be thought to bear to the former. But I -was quickly put out of thefe Thoughts by the flocking in of the other Friends my Fellow-prifoners ; amongft whom yet, when all were come together, there was but one whom I knew fo much as by Face, and with him I had no Acquaintance. For I having been but a little while in the City, and in that Time kept clofe to my Studies, I was by that Means known to very few. Soon after we were all gotten together, came up the Mailer of the Houfe after us, and de- manded 0/T. Ellwood's LIFE. 133 manded our Names; which we might reafon- 1662. ably have refufed to give, till we had been *^T* legally convened before fome Civil Magiftrate, who had Power to examine us and demand our Names. But we, who were neither guilful nor wilful, limply gave him our Names, which he took down in Writing. It was, as I hinted before, a general Storm which fell that Day, but it lighted moft, and moft heavy, upon our Meetings ; fo that moft of our Men-Friends were made Prifoners, and the Prifons generally filled. And great Work had the Women, to run about from Prifon to Prifon to find their Hufbands, their Fathers, their Brothers, or their Servants ; for accord- ingly as they had difpofed themfelves to feveral Meetings, fo were they difperfed to feveral Prifons. And no lefs Care and Pains had they, when they had found them, to furnifh them with Provilions and other necefTary Accom- modations. But an excellent Order, even in thofe early Days, was practifed among the Friends of that City, by which there were certain Friends of either Sex, appointed to have the Overlight of the Prifons in every Quarter, and to take Care of all Friends, the Poor efpecially, that fhould be committed thither. This Prifon of Bridewell was under the Care of two honeft, grave, difcreet and motherly Women, whofe Names were Anne Merrick (afterwards Fivers) and Anne Travers, both Widows. L 4 They, i 3 4 7fr HISTORY 1662. They, fo foon as they underflood that there Vy* j were Friends brought into that Prifon, provided fome hot Victuals, Meat and Broth, for the Weather was cold ; and ordering their Servants to bring it them, with Bread, Cheefe and Beer, came themfelves alfo with it ; and having placed it on a Table, gave Notice to us, That it was provided for all thofe that had not others to provide for them , or were not able to provide for themfelves. And there wanted not among us a competent Number of fuch Guefts. As for my part, though I had lived as frugally as poffibly I could, that I might draw out the Thread of my little Stock to the utmoft Length, yet had I, by this Time, reduced it to Ten- pence, which was all the Money I had about me, or any where elfe at my Command. This was but a fmall Eftate to enter upon an Imprifonment with, yet was I not at all difcouraged at it, nor had I a murmuring Thought. I had known what it was (mode- rately) to abound, and if I mould now come to fufjer Want, I knew I ought to be content ; and through the Grace of God I was fo. I had lived by Providence before (when for a long Time I had no Money at all) and I had always found the Lord a good Provider. J made no doubt therefore that He, who fent the Ravens to feed Elijah, and who cloaths the Lilies, would find fome Means to fuftajn me with needful Food and Raiment ; and I had learn'd by Experience the Truth of that Saying, Natura 0/T. Ellwood's LIFE. 135 Natura paucis contenta j i. e. Nature is content 1662. with few Things, or a little. Hrt Although the Sight and Smell of hot Food, was fufficiently enticing to my empty Stomach, for I had eaten little that Morning, and was hungry ; yet conlidering the Terms of the In- vitation, I queflioned whether I was included in it j and after fome Reafonings, at length con- cluded, That while I had Ten-pence in my Pocket, I mould be but an injurious Intruder to that Mefs, which was provided for fuch as, perhaps, had not Two-pence in theirs. Being come to this Refolution, I withdrew as far from the Table as I could, and fate down in a quiet Retirement of Mind till the Repaft was over, which was not long ; for there were Hands enough at it, to make light Work of it. When Evening came, the Porter came up the Back-ftairs, and opening the Door, told us, If we de fired to have any 1 hing that was to be had in the Houfe, he would bring it us ; for there was in the Houfe a Chandler 's Shop, at which Beer t Bread, Butter, Cheefe, Eggs and, Bacon might be had for Money. Upon which many went to him, and fpake for what of thefe Things they had a Mind to, giving him Money to pay for them. Among the reft: went I, and intending to fpin out my Ten-pence as far as I could, defired him to bring me a Penny-loaf only. When he returned, we all reforted to him to receive our feveral Provifions, which he delivered ; and when 136 ft HISTORY 1662. when he came to me, he told me, He could ? 0m r J not get a Penny -loaf but be had brought me two Half-penny- loaves. This fuited me better ; wherefore returning to my Place again, I fate down and eat up one of my Loaves, referving the other for the next Day. This was to me both Dinner and Supper. And fo well fatisfied I was with it, that I could willingly then have gone to Bed, if I had had one to go to 5 but that was not to be expected there, nor had any one any Bedding brought in that Night. Some of the Company had been fo confi- derate, as to fend for a Pound of Candles, that we might not fit all Night in the Dark, and having lighted divers of them, and placed them in feveral Parts of that large Room, we kept walking to keep us warm. After I had warmed myfelf pretty througly, and the Evening was pretty far fpent, I be- thought myfelf of a Lodging ; and carting mine Eye on the Table which flood in the Bay - window, the Frame whereof look'd I thought, fomewhat like a Bedftead. Where- fore willing to make fure of that, I gathered up a good Armful of the Rufhes wherewith the Floor was covered, and Spreading them under that Table, crept in upon them in my Cloaths, and keeping on my Hat, laid my Head upon one End of the Table's Frame inftead of a Bolder. My Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 137 My Example was followed by the reft, who 1662. gathering up Rufhes as I had done, made ^Y** themfelves Beds in other Parts of the Room, and fo to Reft we went. I having a quiet, eafy Mind, was foon a-fleep, and flept till about the Middle of the Night. And then waking, finding my Legs and Feet very cold, I crept out of my Cabbin and began to walk about apace. This waked and raifed all the reft, who find- ing themfelves cold as well as I, got up and walked about with me, till we had pretty well warmed ourfelves, and then we all Jay down again and refted till Morning. Next Day, all they who had Families, or be- long'd to Families, had Bedding brought in of one Sort or other, which they difpofed at the Ends and Sides of the Room, leaving the Mid- dle void to walk in. But I, who had no Body to look after me, kept to my Rufhy- pallet under the Table for four Nights together, in which Time I did not put off my Cloaths j yet, through the merciful Goodnefs of God unto me, I refted and flept well, and enjoyed Health, without taking Cold. In this Time divers of our Company, through the Solicitations* of fome of their Relations, or Acquaintance, to Sir Richard Brown (who was at that Time a great Mafter of Mif-rule in the City, and over Bridewell more efpecially) were releafed ; and among thefe, one William Muck- low t who lay in an Hammock, He, having obferved 138 7& HISTORY i662.obferved that I only was unprovided of Lodg- W° ing, came very courteoufly to me, and kindly offered me the Ufe of his Hammock while I mould continue a Prifoner. This was a providential Accommodation to me, which I received thankfully, both from the Lord and from him ; and from thence- forth I thought I lay as well as ever I had done in my Life. Amongft thofe that remained, there were feveral young Men who caft themfelves into a Club, and laying down every one an equal Proportion of Money, put it into the Hand of our Friend Anne Travers t defiring her to lay it out for them in Provisions, and fend them in every Day a Mefs of hot Meat ; and they kindly invited me to come into their Club with them. Thefe faw my Perfon, and judged of me by that ; but they faw not my Purfe, nor underftood the Lightnefs of my Pocket. But I, who alone understood my own Condition, knew I mull fit down with lower Commons. "Wherefore not giving them the true Reafon, I as fairly as I could excufed myfelf from entring at prefent into their Mefs, and went on, as before, to eat by myfelf, and that very fparingly, as my Stock would bear. And before my Ten- pence was quite fpent, Providence, on whom I relied, fent me in a frefh Supply. For William Penington (a Brother of Ifaac Peningtorfs) a Friend and Merchant \n London, at whofe Houfe, before I came to live in the City, I was wont to lodge, having been at his Brother's Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 139 Brother's that Day upon a Vifit, efcaped this 1662. Storm, and fo was at Liberty ; and under- <*Y** ftanding when he came back, what had been done, bethought himfelf of me, and upon En- quiry hearing where I was, came in Love to fee me. He, in Difcourfe amongft other Things, afk- ed me, How it was with me as to Money ? and how well I was funiified ? I told him, I could not boaft of much, and yet I could not fay I had none j though what I then had was indeed next to none. Whereupon he put Twenty Shil- lings into my Hand, and defired me to accept of that for the prefent. I faw a divine Hand k in thus opening his Heart and Hand in this manner to me. And tho' I would willingly have been excufed from taking fo much, and would have returned one Half of it j yet he preffing it all upon me, I received it with a thankful Acknowledgment, as a Token of Love from the Lord and from him. On the Seventh-day he went down again, as he ufually did, to his Brother's Houfe at Chal- font ; and in Difcourfe gave them an Account of my Imprifonment. Whereupon, at his Re- turn on the Second-day of the Week following, my affeclionate Friend Mary Penington fent me, by him, Forty Shillings, which he foon after brought me ; out of which I would have repaid him the Twenty Shillings he had fo kindly furniihed me with, but he would not admit it, telling me, / might have Occafion for that and more, before I got my Liberty. Not 140 ft HISTORY 1662. Not many Days after this, I received Twenty >V° Shillings from my Father, who being then at his Houfe in Oxford/hire, and, by Letter from my Sifter, underftanding that I was a Prifoner in Bridewell, fent this Money to me for my Support there ; and withal a Letter to my Sifter, for her to deliver to one called Mr. Wray, who lived near Bridewell, and was a Servant to Sir Richard Brown in fome Wharf of his, requefting him to intercede with his Mafter, who was one of the Governors of Bridewell, for my Deliverance. But that Letter coming to my Hands, I fuppreft it, and have it yet by me. Now was my Pocket, from the loweft Ebb rifen to a full Tide. I was at the Brink of Want, next Door to nothing, yet my Confi- dence did not fail, nor my Faith ftagger ; and now on a fudden I had plentiful Supplies, Shower upon Shower, fo that I abounded, yet was not lifted up j but in Humility could fay, This is the Lord's doing. And, without de- frauding any of the Inftruments of the Acknow- ledgments due unto them, mine Eye looked over and beyond them to the Lord, who I law was the Author thereof and prime Agent therein, and with a thankful Heart I returned Thankfgivings and Praifes to Him. And this great Goodnefs of the Lord to me, I thus re- cord, to the End that all into whofe Hands this may come, may be encouraged to truft in the Lord, whofe Mercy is over all His Works, and who Of T. Ell wood* s LIFE. 141 1 ^ — — — - - ■■ ■ ■*■ ■ 1 - ■ ■■■■ ■ _ who is indeed a God near at hand, to help in 1662. the needful Time. W°„ Now I durft venture myfelf into the Club, to which I had been invited, and accordingly (having by this Time gained an Acquaintance with them) took an Opportunity to caft myfelf among them ; and thenceforward, fo long as we continued Prifoners there together, I was one of their Mefs. And now the chief Thing I wanted, was Imploymenty which fcarce any wanted but my felf ; for the reft of my Company were gene- rally Tradefmen, of fuch Trades as could fet themfelves on work. Of thefe, divers were Taylors, fome Mafters, fome Journey-men, and with thefe I moft inclined to fettle. But be- caufe I was too much a Novice in their Art, to be trufted with their Work, left I mould fpoil the Garment, I got Work from an Hofier in Cheap-fide ; which was to make Night- Waift- coats of red and yellow Flannel, for Women and Children. And with this I entred myfelf among theTaylors, fitting Crofs-leg'd as they did, and fo fpent thofe leifure Hours with Innocency and Pleafure, which Want of Bulinefs would have made tedious. And indeed that was, in a manner, the only Advantage I had by it 5 for my Mafter, though a very wealthy Man, and one who profeffed not only Friendftiip, but par- ticular Kindnefs to me, dealt I thought but hardly with me. For, though he knew not what I had to fubfift by, he never offered me a Penny for my Work, till I had done working for i 4 2 5fo HISTORY 1662. for him, and went, after I was releafed, to give W° him a Vifit ; and then he would not reckon with me neither, Becaufe (as he fmilingly faid) he would not let me Jo far into his Trade, as to ac- quaint me with the Prices of the Work \ but would be fure to give me enough. And thereupon he gave me one Crown-piece and no more ; tho* I had wrought long for him, and made him many Dozens of Waiftcoats, and bought the Thread myfelf ; which I thought was very poor Pay. But, as Providence had ordered it, I wanted the Work more than the Wages, and therefore took what he gave me without complaining. About this Time, while we were Prifoners in our fair Chamber, a Friend was brought and put in among us, who had been fent thither by Richard Brown to beat Hemp j whofe Cafe was thus : He was a very poor Man who lived by mending Shoes ; and on a Seventh-day Night late, a Carman (or fome other fuch labouring ]\£an) brought him a Pair of Shoes to mend, defiring him to mend them that Night, that he might have them in the Morning, for he had no other to wear. The poor Man fate up at work upon them till after Mid-night, and then finding he could not finiuh them, he went to Bed, intending to do the reft in the Morning. Accordingly he got up betimes, and though he wrought as privately as he could in his Chamber, that he might avoid giving Offence to Of T. Ellwood's LIFE. 143 to any, yet could he not do it fo privately, but 1662. that an ill-natui'd Neighbour perceived it, who *-"V° went and informed againll him for working on the Sunday. Whereupon he was had before Richard Brow?i y who committed him to Bride- well for a certain Time, to be kept to hard Labour in beating Hemp, which is Labour hard enough. It fo fell out, that at the fame Time were committed thither (for what Caufe I do not now remember) two lufty young Men who were called Bapti/ls y to be kept alio at the fame Labour. The Friend was a poor little Man, of a low Condition and mean Appearance ; whereas thefe two Baptifts were topping Blades, that looked high and fpake big. They icorned to beat Hemp, and made a Pifi at the Whipping- poft ; but when they had once felt the Smart of it, they foon cried Peccavi y and lubmitting to the Puniihment, fet their tender Hands to the Beetles. The Friend, on the other hand acting upon a Principle, as knowing he had done no Evil for which he ihould undergo that Punifhment, refufed to work, and for rehiring was cruelly whipt -, which he bore with wonderful Con- llancy and Refolution of Mind. The manner of whipping there is, To flrip the Party to the Skin from the Waifl upwards, and having faftned him to the Whipping-port, (fo that he can neither refill: nor (bun the Strokes) to la(h the naked Body with long, M but 144 ^ HISTORY 1 662. but (lender Twigs of Holly, which will bend yy^ almoft like Thongs and lap round the Body j and thefe having little Knots upon them, tear the Skin and Flefh, and give extream Pain. With thefe Rods they tormented the Friend moft barbaroufly ; and the more, for that hav- ing mattered the two braving Baptifts, they difdainded to be mattered by this poor Quaker. Yet were they fain at lad to yield, when they faw their utmofl Severity could not make him yield. And then, not willing to be trou- bled longer with him, they turned him up among us. When we had enquired of him, How it was with him ? and he had given us a brief Ac- count of both his Caufe and Ufage, it came in my Mind, that I had in my Box (which I had fent for from my Lodging, to keep fome few Books and other NecefTaries in) a little Gally- pot with Lucatelhh Balfam in it. Wherefore caufing a good Fire to be made, and fetting the Friend, within a Blanket before the Fire, we ftripped him to the Waift, as if he had been to be whipt again, and found his Skin fo cut and torn with the knotty Holly-rods, both Back, Side, Arm and Breaft, that ic was a difmal Sight to look upon. Then melting fome of the Balfam, I with a Feather anointed all the Sores, and putting a fofter Cloth between his Skin and his Shirt, help- ed him on with his Cioaths again. This Dreffing gave him much Eafe, and I continued it till he was well. And becaufe he was a very Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 14$ very poor Man, we took him into our Mefs, 1662. contriving that there mould always be enough ^V*. for him as well as for ourlelves. Thus he lived with us until the Time, he was com- mitted for, was expired, and then he was re- leafed. But we were ftill continued Prifoners by an arbitrary Power, not being committed by the Civil Authority, nor having feen the Face of any Civil Magiflrate, from the Day we were thruft in here by Soldiers, which was the 26th Day of the eighth Month, to the 19th of the tenth Month following. On that Day we were had to the Seffions at the Old-bailey. But not being called there, we were brought back to Bridewell, and continued there to the 29th of the fame Month, and then we were carried to the Seffions again. I expected I mould have been called the firft, becaufe my Name was firft taken down ; but it proved otherwife, fo that I was one of the laft that was called ; which gave me the Ad- vantage of hearing the Pleas of the other Prifoners, and difcovering the Temper of the Court. The Prifoners complained of the Illegality of their Imprifonment, and defired to know, what they had lam fo long in Prifonfor ? The Court regarded nothing of that, and did not flick to tell them fo. For, faid the Recorder to them, if you think you have been wrongfully imprifoned,, you have your Remedy at Law, and may take it, M 2 if 146 ^HISTORY 1662. if you think it worth your while. The Court, VV find he, may fend for any Man out of the Street, and tender him the Oath : So we take no Notice how you came hither, but finding you here, we tender you the Oath oj Allegiance ; which if you refufe to take, we JJoall commit you, and at length Praemunire ^cw. Accordingly, as every one re- futed it, he was fet afide and another called. By this I faw, it was in vain for me to infill upon falfe Imprifonment, or afk the Caule of my Commitment ; though I had before fur- nifhed myielf with fome Authorities and Max- ims of Law on that Subject, to have pleaded if Room had been given ; and I had the Book, out of which I took them, in my Bofom j for the Weather being cold, I wore a Gown girt about the Middle, and had put the Book within it. But I now refolved to wave all that, and infift upon another Plea, which juft then came into my Mind. As foon therefore as I was called, I flept nimbly to the Bar, and flood up upon the Step- ping, that I might the better both hear and be heard, and laying my Hands upon the Bar, flood ready, expecting what they would fay to me. I fuppofe they took me for a confident young Man, for they looked very earneftly upon me ; and we faced each other, without Words, for a while. At length the Recorder, who was called Sir John Howel, afked me, Jf 1 would take the Oath of Allegiance ? To Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 147 To which I anfwered, I conceive this Court 1662. hath not Power to tender that Oath to me, in W^ the Condition wherein I ftand. This fo unexpected Plea feemed to ftartle them, fo that they looked one upon another, and faid fomewhat low one to another, What I doth he demur to the furifdicfion of the Court ? And thereupon the Recorder afked me, Do you then demur to the furi [diction of the Court ? Not abiblutely, anfwered I, but conditionally, with refpect to my prefent Condition, and the Cir- cumftances I am now under. Why, what is your prefent Condition? faid the Recorder. A Prifoner, replied I. And what is that, faid he, to your taking, or not taking the Oath ? Enough, faid I as I conceive, to exempt me from the Tender thereof, while I am under this Condition. Pray, what is your Reafon for that? faid he. This, faid I ; That if I rightly undcrftand the Words of the Statute, I am required to fay, That I do take this Oath Jreely and without Conjiraint ; which I cannot fay, becaufe I am not a Free-man, but in Bonds, and under Conftraint. Wherefore I conceive, that if you would tender that Oath to me, ye ought firft to fet me free from my prefent Imprifonment. But, faid the Recorder, will you take the Oath if you be fet free ? Thou malt fee that, faid I, when I am fet free. Therefore fet me free firft, and then afk the Queftion. But, faid he again, you know your own Mind fure, and can tell now what you would do, if you M 3 were 14.8 The H I S T O R Y 1662. were at Liber fy. Yes, replied I, that I can ; y^r^ but I don't hold myfelf obliged to tell it until I am at Liberty. Therefore fet me at Liberty, and ye fhall loon hear it. Thus we fenced a good while, till I was both weary of Inch trifling, and doubted alfo, left fome of the -Standers by mould iufpecl: I would take it, if I was fet at Liberty. Wherefore when the Recorder put it upon me again, I told him plainly, No ; though I thought they ought not to tender it me, till I had been fet at Liberty j yet if I was fet at Liberty, I could nGt take that, nor any other Oath, becaufe my Lord and Mailer Chkist Jesus, had exprefly commanded his Difcipies, Not to [wear at ail. As His Command was enough to me, lb this Confeffion of mine was enough to them. Take him away, faid ihey ; and away I was taken, and thruft into the Bail - dock to my other Friends, who had been called before me. And as foon as the reft of our Company were called, and had refufed to Jwear, we were all com- mitted to Newgate, and thruft into the common Side. When we came there, we found that Side of the Prifon very full of Friends, who were Prifoners there before (as indeed were, at that Time, all the other Parts of that Prifon, and moil of the other Prifons about the Town) and our Addition caufed a great Throng on that Side. Notwithstanding which, we were kindly wel- comed by our Friends, whom we found there, and Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 149 and entertained by them, as well as their 1662. Condition would admit, until we could get W^ in our own Accommodations, and provide for ourfelves. We had the Liberty of the Hall (which is on the firft Story over the Gate, and which, in the Dav-time, is common to all the Prifcners on that Side, Felons as well as others, to walk in and to beg out of) and we had alfo the Liberty of fome other Rooms over that Hail, to walk or work in a-Days. But in the Night we all lodged in one Room, which was large and round, having in the Middle of it a great Pillar of oaken Timber, which bore up the Chapel that is over it. To this Pillar we faftned our Hammocks at the one End, and to the oppofite Wall on the other End, quite round the Room, and in three Degrees, or three Stories high, one over the - other ; fo that they who lay in the upper and middle Row of Hammocks, were obliged to go to Bed firft, becaufe they were to climb up to the higher, by getting into the lower. And under the lower Rank of Hammocks, by the Wall-fides were laid Beds upon the Floor, in which the Sick, and fuch v/eak Perfons as could not get into the Hammocks, lay. And indeed, though the Room was large and pretty airy, yet the Breath and Steam that came from fo many Bodies of different Ages, Conditions and Cocilitutions, packt up fo clofe together, was enough to caufe Sicknefs amongft us, and I belteve did fo. For there were many lick, and M 4 fome *50 The HISTORY * . — j i6< (ome very weak ; though we were not long iW^ there, yet in that Time one of our Fellow- prifoners, who lay in one of thofe Pallet-beds, died. This caufed fome Buflle in the Houfe. For the Body of the deceafed being laid out, and put into a Coffin, was carried down and fet in the Room called the Lodge, that the Coroner might enquire into the Cauie and Manner of his Death, And the manner of their doing it is thus: As foon as the Coroner is come, the Turnkeys run out into the Street under the Gate, and feize upon every Man that pafTes by, till they have got enough to make up the Coroners Inqueft. And fo refolute thefe rude Fellows are, that if any Man refift, or difpute it with them, they drag him in by main Force, not regarding what Condition he is of. Nay, I have been told, they will not flick to flop a Coach, and pluck the Men out of it. Itfo happened, that at this Time they lighted on an ancient Man, a grave Citizen, who was trudging through the Gate in great Hafte, and him they laid hold on, telling him, He mufi come in, and ferve upon the Coroner'.? Inqueft, He pleaded hard, beg'd and befought them to let him go, alluring them, He was going on very urgent Bu/inefs, and that the flopping him would he greatly to his Prejudice. But they were deaf to all Intreaties, and hurried him in, the poor Man chaffing without Remedy. When they had got their Complement, and were (hut in together, the reft of them laid to this 0/T. Ellwood's LIFE. 151 this ancient Man, Come, Father, you are the 1662. oldejl among us, you flail be our Foreman. And •V - when the Coroner had fworn them on the Jury, the Coffin was uncovered, that they might look upon the Body. But the old Man, difturbed in his Mind at the Interruption they had given him, was grown iomewhat fretful upon it ; faid to them, To what purpofe do you /hew us a dead Body here ? You would not have us think jure, that this Man died in this Room ! How then fiall we be able to judge how this Man came by his Death, unlefs we fee the Place wherein he died, and wherein he hath been kept Prijbner before he died ? How know we, but that the Incom- modioufnefs of the Place wherein he was kept y may have occafiened his Death ? Therefore. Jl:ew us, laid he, the Place wherein this Man died. This much difpleafed the Keepers, and they began to banter the old Man, thinking to have beaten him off it. But he flood up titely to them ; Come, come, faid he, though you have made a Fool of me in bringing me in hither, ye /Jjall not find a Child of me now I am here. Mif- take 720 1 your J elves \ I underftand my Place, and your Duty ; and I require you to conduct me and my Brethren, to the Place where this Man died : Refufe it at your Peril. They now wimed they had let the old Man go about his Buiinefs, rather than by troubling him, have brought this Trouble on themfelvrs. But when they law he perfifted in his Refolu- tion, and was peremptory, the Coroner told them, They muft go jhew him the Place ? It 152 7&? HISTORY 1662. It was in the Evening when they began this Hr^ Work j and by this time it was grown Bed-time with us, fo that we had taken down our Ham- mocks (which in the Day were hung up by the Walls) and had made them ready to go into, and were undrefiing ourfelves in Readinefs to go into them. When on a fudden we heard a great Noife of Tongues, and of Tramplings of Feet, coming up towards us. And by and by one of the Turnkeys opening our Door, faid, Hold, hold, clont undrefs yourfelves, here's the Coroner'i Inquefl coming to Jee you. As foon as they were come to the Door (for within the Door there was fcarce Room for them to come) the Foreman who led them> lifting up his Hand, faid, Lord blefs me, what a Sight is here ! 1 did not think there had been fo much Cruelty in the Hearts of Englishmen, to uje Englifhmen in this manner ! V/e need not wsm quefiion, faid he to the reft of the Jury, how this Man came by his Death ; we may rather wonder that they are not all dead, for this Place is. enough to breed an Infedrion among them. IV ell, added he, if it pleafe God to lengthen my Life till To-morrow, I will faid means to let the King know how his Subjects are dealt with. Whether he did fo or no, I cannot tell ; but I am apt to think that he applied himfelf to the Mayor, or the Sheriffs of London. For the next Day one of the SherifTs, called Sir William Turner, a Woollen- draper tn Paul's-yard, came to the Prefs-yard, and having ordered the Porter of Bridewell to attend him there, lent up a Turnkey 0/ T. Ellwood's LIFE. 153 Turnkey amongft us, to bid all the Bridewell 1662. Prifoners come down to him, for they knew us T^ not, but we knew our own Company. Being come before him in the Prefs-yard, he looked kindly on us, and fpake courteoully to us. Gentlemen, faid he, I under/land the Pri- Jon is very fully and I am firry for it. 1 wiffo it were in my Power to- releafe you, and the reji of your Friends that are in it. But fmce I cannot 'do that, I am willing to do what 1 can for you. And therefore I am come hither to enquire how it is \ and I would have all you, who came from Bridewell, return thither again, which will be a bttter Accommodation to you j and your Removal will give the more Room to thoje that are left behind , and here is the Porter of Bride well, your old Keeper, to attend you thither. We duly acknowledged the Favour of the Sheriff to us and our Friends above, in this Removal of us, which would give them more Room, and us a better Air. But before we parted from him, I fpake particularly to him on another Occafion ; which was this : When we came into Newgate, we found a fhabby Fellow there among the Friends, who upon Inquiry, we understood had thruft himfelf among our Friend?, when they were taken at a Meeting, on purpofe to be fent to Prifon with them, in hopes to be maintained by them. They knew nothing of him, till they found him fhut in with them in the Prifon, and then took no Notice of him, as not knowing how or why he came thither. But he foon gave them i 5 4 ^HISTORY 1662. them Caufe to take Notice of him ; for where- W*^ ever he faw any Viduals brought forth for them to eat, he would be fure to thruft in, with Knife in Hand, and make himfeif his own Carver ; and fo impudent was he, that if he faw the Provifion was fhort, whoever wanted, he would be fure to tak« enough. Thus lived this lazy Drone upon the Labours of the indubious Bees, to his high Content and their no fmall Trouble, to whom his Com- pany was as offensive, as his Ravening was oppreffive j nor could they get any Relief, by their complaining of him to the Keepers. This Fellow hearing the Notice which was given, for the Bridewell Men to go down, in order to be removed to Bridewell again, and hoping, no Doubt, that frefh Quarters would produce frefh Commons, and that he mould fare better with us than where he was, thruft himfeif amongft us, and went down into the Prefs-yard with us. Which I knew not of, till I faw him ftanding there with his Hat on, and looking as demurely as he could, that the Sheriff might take him for a Quaker : At Sight of which, my Spirit was much ftirred. Wherefore, as foon as the Sheriff had done fpeaking to us, and we had made our Acknow- ledgment of his Kindnefs, I ftept a little nearer to him, and pointing to that Fellow, faid, That Man is not only none of cur Company, for he is no Quaker ; but is an idle diffolute Fellow, who hath thruft himfeif in among our Friends, to be fent to Prifon with them, that he might live Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 155 live upon them ; therefore I defire we may not 1662. be troubled with him at Bridewell. H^ At this the Sheriff fmiled ; and calling the Fellow forth, laid to him, How came you to be in Prifon ? I was taken at a Meeeing, faid he. But what Bufinefs had you there ? faid the Sheriff. I went to hear, faid he. Aye, you went upon a worfe Defgn, it jeems, replied the Sheriff, but HI difappomt you, laid he ; for I'll change your Company, and Jend you to them that are like your felf Then calling for the Turnkey, he faid, Take this Fellow, and put him among the Felons -, and be fure let him not trouble the Quakers any more. Hitherto this Fellow had flood with his Flat on, as willing to have paffed, if he could, for a Quaker ; but as foon as he heard this Doom pafftd on him, off went his Hat, and to bowing and fcraping he fell, with Good your Worftoip, ha r oe Pity upon me, and Jet me at Liberty. No, no, faid the Sheriff, / will not fo far difappoint you ; fince you had a Mind to be in Prifon, in Prifon you fiall be for me. Then bidding the Turnkey take him away, he had him up, and put him among the Felons ; and fo Friends had a good Deliverance from him. The Sheriff then bidding us Farewell, the Porter of Bridewell came to us, and told us, We knew our Way to Bridewell without him, and he could truji us -, therefore he would not pay nor go with us, but left us to take our own Time, fo we 'were in before Bed- time. Then 156 The H I S T O R Y 1662. Then went we up again to our Friends in W Newgate, and gave them an Account of what had paffed ; and having taken a fblemn Leave of them, we made up our Packs to be gone. But before I pafs from Newgate ', I think it not amifs, to give the Reader fome little Account of what I obferved while I was there. The Common-fide of Newgate is generally accounted, as it really is, the worfl Part of that Prifon j not fo much from the Place, as the People, it being ufually flocked with the verieft Rogues, and meaneft Sort of Felons and Pick- pockets, who not being able to pay Chamber- rent on the Mafter's-fide, are thruft in there. And if they come in bad, to be fure they do not go out better ; for here they have an Opportunity to inftruct one another in their Art, and impart each to other what Improvements they have made therein. The Common-hall (which is the firft Room over the Gate) is a good Place to walk in, when the Prifoners are cut of it, faving the Danger of catching fome Cattle which they may have left in it, and there I ufed to walk in a Morning before they were let up, and fometimes in the Day-time when they have been there.. They all carried themfclves refpectfully to- wards me j which I imputed chiefly to this, That when any of our Women-Friends came there to vifit the Prifoners, if they had not Re- lations of their own there to take care of them, I, (as being a young Man, and more at leifure than Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 157 than moil others, for I could not play the *£ayhr 16&M there) was forward to go down with them to **V^ the Grate, and fee them fafe out. And fome- times they have left Money in my Hands for the Felons (who at fiich Times were very im- portunate Beggars) which I forthwith diftri- buted among them in Bread, which was to be had in the Place. But fo trocblefome an Office it was, that I thought one had as good have had a Pack of hungry Hounds about one, as thefe, when they knew there was a Dole to be given. Yet this I think, made them a iitde the more obfervant to me; for they would dif- pofe themfelves to one Side of the Room, that they might make Way for me to walk on the other. And when I walked there, I had ufually a Book in my Kand, on which I had mine Eye; which made them think I did not heed what they faid. By this Means, mine Ear be- ing attentive to them, I heard them relate one to another many of their roguifh Pranks. One Day, as I was thus walking to and fro befide them, I heard them recounting one to another what Feats they had done at Pocket- picking and Shop-lifting. Whereupon, turning ihort upon them, I afked them, IVhich of you all will under takt to pick my Pocket ? They were not very forward to anfwer, but viewed me round. I wore a long Gown, which was laot over before and tied about the Middle, and had no Pocket-holes in it. When they had a while considered it, and I, having taken another Turn, .was come up again to them, OLe 158 ^HISTORY 1662. one of them faid, Why, Mafter, if 'you will pro- ****** mife not to profecute us, we willfiow you a Piece of our Skill. Nay, hold there, laid I, I won't fo far encourage you in Evil, as to promife not to profecute ; and away I turned again, having mine Eye on my Book, but mine Ears to them. And in a while I heard them contriving how they would have done it, /, faid one of them, would give him the Budge, and before he can recover himfelf you, faid he to another of them, having your Penknife ready, fiouldflit his Gown ; and then, faid he, let Honeypot alone for the diving Part. This Honeypot was a little Boy, then in Prifon with them for picking a Pocket, who by his Stature did not ieem to be above ten, or a dozen Years old j but for his Dex- terity at Pocket-picking, was held to be one of the Top of the Trade. As for the Budge, I had had it given me often in the Street, but underftood not the Meaning of it till now ; and now I found it was a Joflle, enough to throw one almoft upon his Nofe. I have fometimes occafionally been in the Hall in an Evening, and have feen the Whores let in unto them, which I take to be a common Practice : Nafly Sluts indeed they were, and in that Refpect the more fuitable. And as I have paffed them, I have heard the Rogues and they making their Bargains, which and which of them mould company together that Night. Which abominable Wickednefs mud be imputed to the Dimonefty of the Turnkey?, who. Of T. El l wood's LIFE. 159 \ -** t ■ I who, for vile Gain to themfelves, not only fuffer, J 662. but further this Lewdnefs. ^V"* Thefe are fome of the common Evils which make the Common-fide of Newgate, in mea- fure a Type of HELL upon EARTH, But there was, at that Time, iomething of ano- ther Nature, more particular and accidental, which was very offenfive to me. When we came firft into Newgate, there lay in a little By-place like a Clofet, near the Room where we were lodged, the quartered Bodies of three Men, who had been executed fome Days before, for a real or pretended Plot j which w r as the Ground, or at leaft Pretext, for that Storm in the City, which had caufed this Xmprifonment. The Names of thefe three Men were Philips, Tongue and Gibs ; and the Reafon why their Quarters lay fo long there was, The Relations were all that while petitioning to have Leave to bury them ; which at length with much ado was obtained for the Quarters, but not for the Heads, which were ordered to be fet up in fome Parts of the City. I faw the Heads when they were brought up to be boiled. The Hangman fetch'd them in a dirty Duft-bafket, out of fome By-place, and fetting them down amongft the Felons, he and they made Sport with them. They took them by the Hair, flouting, jeering and laugh- ing at them ; and then giving them fome ill Names, box'd them on the Ears and Cheeks. Which done, the Hangman put them into his Kettle, and parboil'd them with Bay-fak and N Cummin- 160 ^HISTORY 1662. Cummin- feed ; that to keep them from Putre- W** faction, and this to keep off the Fowls from feizing on them. The whole Sight, as well that of the bloody Quarters firft, as this of the Heads afterwards, was both frightful and Ioathfome, and begat an Abhorrence in my Na- ture. Which as it had rendered my Confine- ment there by much the more uneafy, fo it made our Removal from thence to Bridewell, even in that refpecl, the more welcome : Whither we now go. For having, as I hinted before, made up our Packs, and taken our Leave of our Friends, whom we were to leave behind, we took our Bundles on our Shoulders, and walked, two and two a-breaft, through the Old-bailey into Fleet'/lreet, and fo to Old Bridewell. And it being about the Middle of the Afternoon, and the Streets pretty full of People, both the Shop- keepers at their Doors, and PafTengers in the Way, would flop us, and afk us what we were, and whither we were going ? And when we had told them we were Prifoners, going from one Prifon to another (from Newgate to Bride- well) What, fa id they, without a Keeper ! No, faid we, for our Word, which we have given, is our Keeper. Some thereupon would advife us not to go to Prifon, but to go home. But we told them, we could not do fo ; we could fuffer for our Teflimony, but could not fly from it. I do not remember we had any Abufe offered us, but were generally pitied by the People. When Of T. ElLwood's LtFE. i6t When we were come to Bridewell^ we were 1662. not put up into the great Room in which we W^, had been before, but into a low Room in another fair Court, which had a Pump in the Middle of it. And here we were not (hut up as before, but had the Liberty of the Court to walk in, and of the Pump to warn or drink at. And indeed we might eafily have gone quite away if we would, there being a PafTage through the Court into the Street ; but we were true and fteady Prifoners, and looked upon this Liberty^ arifing from their Confidence in us, to be a kind of Parol upon us j fo that both Confcience and Honour flood now engaged for our true Imprifonment. Adjoining to this Room wherein we Were, was fuch another, both newly fitted up for TFork-houfes, and accordingly furniihed with very great Blocks for beating Hemp upon, and a lufty Whipping-poft there was in each. And it was faid, That Richard Brown had ordered thofe Blocks to be provided for the Quakers to work on, refolving to try his Strength with us in that Cafe j but if that was his Purpofe, it was over-ruled, for we never had any Work offered us> nor were we treated after the Manner of thofe that are to be fo ufed. Yet we fet ourfelves to work on them ; for, being very large, they ferved the Taylors for Shop-boards, and others wrought upon them as they had Occafion ; and they ferved us very well for Tables to eat on. N 2 We 162 The HISTORY 1662. We had alfo belides this Room, the Ufe of 'T^ our former Chamber above, to go into when we thought fit ; and thither fometimes I with- drew, when I found a Defire for Retirement and Privacy, or had fomething on my Mind to write, which could not fo well be done in Company. And indeed, about this Time my Spirit was more than ordinarily exercifed, tho' on very different Subjects. For, on the one hand, the Senfe of the exceeding LOVE and GOODNESS of the LORD to me, in His gracious and tender Dealings with me, did deeply affect my Heart, and caufed me to break forth in a SONG of Thanks- giving and Praise to Him : f And, on the other hand, a Senfe of the Prophanenefs, Debaucheries, Cruelties, and other horrid Im- pieties of the AGE, fell heavy on me, and lay as a preffing Weight upon my Spirit. And this drew from me a clofe Exprobration, which my mournful Mufe vented in the following Lines j to which I gave for a Title, Speculum Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 163 7 r» r-T r r- r 1662. Speculum S ECU L I : w*> O R, A LOOKING GLASS FOR THE TIMES. Which began with this Expojiulatory Preface, CiJ^H T flmdd my modeft Muse forbidden be, * ' 'To [peak of that which bat too many fee % Why (hould floe, by conniving t feem £ uphold Mens Wickednefs, and thereby make them bold Still to prfift int f Why fiould (he be jhy ¥0 call them Beafts, who want Humanity ? Why fiould fie any longer Silence keep, And lie fecure as one that's fafl afleep ? Or, how indeed can it expecJed be, That fioe fiould hold her'Tongue, and daily fee Thofe wicked and enormous Crimes committed^ Which fije in Mode fly has pretermitted ? N 3 Which i6 4 *be HISTORY *, — _i_ — » 1662. Which but to name, would with their Filth defile ^^ Chafte Ears, and cafl a Blemifi on her Stile : Yet, of jo many, fie cannot forbear To mention Jbme, which here detected are, LOUD were the Cries, which long had pierc'd mine Ear, Foul the Reports, which I did daily hear. Unheard of, new-invented Crimes were brought, By Fame unto my Knowledge^ which I thought Too foul and loathfome to have found a Place In any Heart, though ne'er fo void of Grace, This made me take a more obfervant View, Whether Report fpake what of Men is true. But as the celebrated Southern Qjj een, When me the Court of Solomon had feen, And had, with more than ufual Diligence, Obferv'd his Splendor and Magnificence, Confider'd well his Pomp, his Port, his State, The great Retinue that on him did wait ; As one with Admiration fill'd (no doubt Not able longer to contain) burft out Into fuch Words as thefe -, Thrice happy King! V/hoje Fame throughout the Univerfe doth ring, Though <~r» Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 165 -_ Though yf thine A5is I thought Report too bold, 1662. Tet mm I fee one Half hath not been told. Juft fo did I, though in another kind, After I had intently fix'd my Mind Upon IV.ens A&ions, and had duly weigh'd Not on!) what they did, but what they faid : A while I flood, like one that's ftruck with ' Thunder, Fill'd with Aitonifhment, and filent Wonder. At length my Heart, fwelling with Indignation, Vented iiielf in fuch an Exclamation, O hellim Doings ! O infernal Crew ! Of whom, who fays the worfr. he can, fays true. O Herd of iuitiul Satyrs, Monflers, Brutes! For fuch a Name to fuch a Nature futes ; What Ink is black enough to write ! what Pen Fit to delineate fnch Beads, not Men ! Words are too (hallow to exprefs the Rage, The Fury, Madf.efs of this frantich AGE, Numbers fall fhort to reckon up the Crimes, Which are the Recreations of thefe Times. Was Sodom ever gnilty of a Sin, Which England is not now involved in ? By Cuflom, Drunkemiefs fo common's grown, That moil Men count it a fmall Sin, or none, N 4 Ranting ui s falia j an fo temper et a L aery mis ! Who can forbear, when fuch Things fpoke he hears, His Grave to water with a Flood of Tears. E cho 190 2& HISTORY 1662.E c f J0 y e Woods ; re found ye hallow Places L et "Tears and FMenefs cover all Mens Faces. L et Groans like Claps of "Thunder, pierce the Air, W hile I the Caufe of my juft Grief declare. O that mine Eyes could, like the Streams of Nile, O 'erflow their watry Banks -, and thou, mean while, D rink in my trickling Tears, O thirjly Ground^ S might 'ft thou henceforth fruitf idler be found. L ament my Soul, lament, thy Lofs is deep, A nd all that Sion love, fit down and weep. M ourn O ye Virgins, and let Sorrow be E ach DamfeTs Dowry and (alas, for me !) N 'er let my Sobs and Sighings have an End, T ill I again embrace m afcended Friend -, A nd till I feel the Virtue of his Life T confolate me, and reprefs my Grief : I nfufe into my Heart the Oil of Gladnefs O nee more, and by its Strength remove that Sadnefs. N ow prefing down my Spirit, and rejlore F ully that Joy I had in him before. O / whom a Word I fain wmld flammer forth, R ather to eafe my Heart, than flew his Worth : His Of T. E t l w o o b* s LIFE. 19 l H « Worth, my Grief, which Words too fallow are \ 1 662. I # Demonf ration fully to declare, > J S /gfo, &&, #?* &y? Interpreters now arc. ) E nvy be gone. Black Momus quit the "Place % N °er more, Zoilus, fiew thy wrinkled Face. D raw near, ye bleedingllcarts, whoje Sorrows are± E qual with mine ; in him ye had like Share. A dd all your Lojfes up, and ye Jhdll fee, R emainder will be nought but Woe is me. E ndeared Lambs, ye that have the white Stone^ D know full well his Name, It is your own. E ternitizd be that right- worthy Name, D eath hath but kiWdhis Body, not his Fame,, W hich in its Brightnefs /ball for ever dwells A nd, like a Box of Ointment, fweetly fmell. R ighteoufnefs was his Robe ; bright Majejly D ecked his Brow ; his Look was heavenly. B old was he in his Maflers Quarrel, and U ndaunted -, faithful to his Lord's Command* R equiting Good for III ; directing all R ight in the Way that leads out of the Fall, O pen and free to ev'ry thirjly Lamb ; U nfpotted, pure, clean; holy^ without Blame. G lory, Light, Splendor, Z*uftr(T'Was his Crown H appy his Change to him -, the Lojs our own. P Unica 192 Me HISTORY 1662. Ur.ica port Cineres Virtus veneranda beatos wyO Efficit. Virtue alone (which Reverence ought to have) Doth make Men happy, een beyond the Grave, While I had thus been breathing forth my Grief, In hopes thereby to get me fome Relief, I heard, methought, his Voice fay, Ceafe t§ mourn, I Live j and though the Vail of Flejh once worn > Be now fiript off] dijfolvd and laid afide, - My Spirit 's with thee, and /ball fo abide. This fatisfy'd me j down I threw my'Quill, Willing to be refign'd to God's pure Will. 1663. Having difcharged this Duty to the Memory W of my deceafed Friend, I went on in mv new Province, intruding my little Pupils in the Rudiments of thz Latin Tongue, to the mutual Satisfaction of both their Parents and mylelf. As foon as I had gotten a little Money in my Poc- ket, which as a Premium without Compact I received from them, I took the firft Opportu- nity to return to my Friend William Peningtm the Money which he had (a k'mMy furmihed me with in my Need, at the Time of my Im- priionment Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 193 f — — ■ ■ ■ — "s prifonment in Bridewell; with a due Ackn< w- E ?.^lf ledgement of my Obligation to him for it. He u ~rt was not at all forward to receive it, fo that I was fain to prefs it upon him. While thus I remained in this Family, vari- ous Sufpicions arofe in the Minds of fbme con- cerning me, with rcfpect to Mary Fcningtoiis fair Daughter Gtili. For (lie having now ar- rived to a marriageable Age, and being in all refpects a very deiirable Woman (whether re- gard was had to her outward Perfon, which wanted nothing to render her complea fly* come- ly ; or to the Endowments of her Mind, which were every way extraordinary, and highly obliging ; or to her outward Fortune, which was fairj and which with forne hath not the lafr, nor the lead Place in Consideration) flie was openly and fecretiy fought, and foliated by many, and fome of them almoft of evety Rank and Condition ; Good and Bad, Rich and Poor, Friend and Foe. To whom, in their refpedive Turns (till he at length came, for , whom me was relerved) (he carried herfelf with fo much Evennefs of Temper, fiich cour- teous Freedom, guarded with the ftricleft Modefty, that as it gave Encouragement, or ground of Hopes to none, fo neither did ic ad- minifler any matter of Offence, or ju.fi! Caufd of Complaint "to any. But iuch as were thus either engaged for themlelves, or dtfirous to make themlelves A vocaies for others, could not, I obierved, but look upon me with an Eye of Jealoufy and P 2 'Fear' i 9 4 5* HISTORY 1663. Fear, that I would improve the Opportunities ^V^ I had, by frequent and familiar Converfation with her, to my own Advantage, in working myfelf into her good Opinion and Favour, to the Ruin of their Pretences. According therefore, to the feveral Kinds and Degrees of their Fears of me, they fuggefted to her Parents their ill Surmiles againft me. Some fruck not to quefhon the Sincerity of my Intentions, in coming at fir ft among the Quakers ; urging, with a Why may it not be fo? That the Defire and Hopes of obtaining, by that means, fo fair a Fortune, might be the prime and chief Inducement to me, to thruft myfelf amongii that People. But this Surmife could find no place with thole worthy Friends of mine (her Father-in-Law and her Mother) who, beiides the clear Senfe and found Judgment they had in themfelves, knew very well upon what Terms I came among them, how ftraight and hard the PafTage was to me, how contrary to all worldly Interefi (which lay fair another way) how much I had fufTered from my Fa- ther for it, and how regardlels I had been of attempting or feeking any thing of that Na- ture, in thefe three or four Years that I had been amongd them. Some others, meafuring me by the Propen- fity of their own Inclinations, concluded / would /leal her, run away with her, and marry her. Which they thought 1 might be the more eafily induced to do, from the advantageous Opportunities I frequently had of riding and walking Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 195 walking abroad with her, by Night as well 1663. as by Day, without any other Company than ****** her Maid. For fo great indeed was the Con- fidence that her Mother had in me, that fhe thought her Daughter fafe if I was with her, even from the Plots and Defigns that others had upon her. And lb honourable were the Thoughts (lie entertained concerning me, as would not fuffer her to admit a Sufpicion, that I could be capable of fo much Bafenefs, as to betray the Truft fhe, with fo great Freedom, repofed in me. I was not ignorant of the various Fears which filled the jealous Heads of fome concern- ing me, neither was I fo flupid, nor fo diverted of all Humanity, as not to be fenfible of the real and innate Worth and Virtue which adorned that excellent Dame, and attracted the Eyes and Hearts of fo many, with the greateft Im- portunity to feek and folicit her ; nor was I fo devoid of natural Pleat, as not to feel fome Sparklings of Defire as well as others. But the Force of Truth, and Senfe of Honour, fup- preft whatever would have rifen beyond the Bounds of fair and virtuous Friendfhip. For I eafily forefaw, that if I mould have attempted any Thing in a difhonourable Way, by Force or Fraud upon her, I mould have thereby brought a Wound upon mine own Soul, a foul Scandal upon my religious Profeffion, and an infamous Stain upon mine Honour j either of which was far more dear unto me than my Life. Wherefore having obferved how fome others P 3 had The HISTORY 1663. had befool'd themfclves, by mifconftruing her br^ common Kindnefs, (exprehed in an innocent, open, free and familiar Converfation, fpringing from the abundant Affability, Courtefy and Swectnefs of her natural Temper) to be the Effect of a lingular Regard and peculiar Affecti- on to them ; I reiolved to (hun the Rock on which I had feen fo many run and fplit j and rememhrin'g that Saying of the Poet, Falix quern faciunt alicna Per 'tenia caiitunu Happy's he, Whom others Dangers wary make to be. J governed rrryfelf in a free, yet refpectful Carriage towards her, that I thereby both pic- ferved a fair Reputation with my Friends, and enjoyed as much of her Favour and Kindnefs, In a virtuous and firm Friendfhip,. as was fit for her to {hew, or for me to feek. Thus leading a quiet and contented Life, I bad Leifure fometimes to write a Copy of Ver- fes on one Occafion or another, as the Poetick Vein naturally opened, without taking Pains to polifh them. Such was this which follows, pccalioned by the fudden Death of fome lufty People in their full Strength. Ejl Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 197 Eft VITA caduca. AS is the fragrant Flower in the Field, Which in the Spring a pleafant Smell doth yield, And lovely Sight ; but foon is withered : So's Man ; To-day alive, To-morrow dead. And as the Silver-dew-befpangled Grafs, Which in the Morn bedecks its Mother's Face, But e're the fcorching Summer's paft, looks brown, Or by the Sythe is fuddenly cut down. Jufl fuch is Man, who vaunts himfelf To-day, Decking himfelf in all his bed Array ; But in the midfl of all his Bravery, Death rounds him in the Ear, Friend y thou ?nuft die. Or like a Shadow in a Sunny Day, Which in a Moment vanifheth away 5 Or like a Smitej or Spark ; fuch is the Span Of Life, allow'd this Microcofm, MAN. Ceafe then vain Man to boaft j for this is true, Thy brighteft Glory's as the Morning Dew, P A Which 1663. 198 The HISTORY 1663. Which difappears when firft therifingSun Difplays his Beams above the Horizon. As the Confideration of the Uncertainty of HUMAN LIFE drew the foregoing Lines from me; fo the Senfe I had of the FOLLT of MANKIND, in mif-fpending the little Time allow'd them, in evil Ways and vain Sports •, led me more particularly to trace the ieveral Courfes, wherein the Generality of Men run, pnprofitably at bell:, if not to their Hurt and Ruin. Which I introduced with that Axiom &f the Preacher, Ecclef. i. 2, All is VANITY. See here the State of M A N as in a Glafs, And how the Fajhion of this florid doth pafs. OME in a Tavern fpend the longer! Day, While others hawk and hunt the Time away. Kers one his Miflrefs courts ; another dances ; A third incites to Lujl by wanton Glances. This wades the Day in dr effing j th' other feeks To fet frefli Colours oq her with'red Cheeks, That, Of T. Ell wood's LIFE, 199 That, when the Sun declines, fome dapper Spark 1663. May take her to Spring-gar den , or the Park. - -•• Plays fome frequent, and Balls ; others their Prime Confume at Dice ; fome bowl away their Time. With Cards fome wholly captivated are ; From Tables others fcarce an Hour can fpare. One to foft Mafwk mancipates his Ear 5 At Shovel-board another fpends the Year. The Pall-Mall this accounts the only Sport ; That keeps a Racket in the Tennis-Court. Some {train their very Eyes and Throats with Singing, While others flrip their Hands and Backs at Ringing* Another Sort with greedy Eyes are waiting Either at Cockpit, or fome great Bull-bating. This dotes on Running-horfes ; t'other Fool Is never well, but in the Fenclng-Jchool. Wreftting and Football, Ninepins, Prifon-bafe, Among the rural Clowns find each a Place. Nay Joan unwam'd will leave her Milking- pail, To dance at May-pole, or a Whitfun-Ale. Thus wallow mod in fenfual Delight, As if their Day mould never have a Night 5 Till 2oo fbe HISTORY 1663. Xill Natures pale-fac'd Serjeant them furpize, And as the Tree then falls, juft fo it lies. Now look at home, thou who thefe Lines doll read, See which of all thefe Paths thyfelf doft tread ; And e're it be too late that Path forfake, Which, follow'd, will thee miferable make. After I had thus enumerated fome of the many Vanities, in which the Generality of Men mif-ipent their Time, I fang the following D E in Praife of Virtue. EALTH, Beauty, Plea fares, Honours, all adieu, 1 value Virtue far, far more than you. Y'are all but Toys For Girls and Boys To play withal ; at bed deceitful Joys. She lives for ever 5 ye are tranfitory. Her Honour is unftained ; but your Glory Is meer Deceit, A painted Bait, Hung out for fuch as fit at Folly's Gate. True Peace, Content and Joy on her attend $ You (on the contrary) your Forces bend To 0/ T. Ellwood's LIFE. 2oi To blear Mens Eyes, 1663. With Fopperies, ^^ Which Fools embrace, but wifer Men defpiic. About this Time my Father, refolving to fell 1664. his Ei'tate, and having referved for his own Ufe ^Y^. fuch Parts of his houiliold Goods as he thought fit ; not willing to take upon himfelf the Trou- ble of felling the reft, gave them unto me. Whereupon I went down to Crowe// y and hav- ing before given Notice there and thereabouts, that I intended a Publick. Sale of them, I fold ' them, and thereby put fome Money into my Pocket. Yet I fold fuch Things only as I judged ufefnl ; leaving the Piffures and Armour, of which there was fome Store there, unfold. Not long after this, my Father fent for me to come to him at London about fome Bufinefs 5 which, when I came there, I underftood was to join with him in the Sale of his Eft-ate, which the Purchafer required for his own Satisfaction and Safety, J being then the next Heir to it in Law. And although I might probably have made fome advantageous Terms for myielf by Handing off; yet when I was fatisfied by Counfel, that there was no Entail upon it, or Right of Reveriion to me, but that he might lawfully difpofe of it as he pleafed, I readily joined with him in the Sale, without afking or having the leaft Gratuity or Compenfation ; no, not fo much as the Fee I had given to Coun- fel, to fecure me from any Danger in doin^r it. There :o2 The HISTORY 1665. There having been, fome Time before this, a ( ^y" i very fevere Law made againft the gh/afcers by Name -, and more particularly, prohibiting our Meetings under the (harped Penalties, of Five Pounds for the firft Offence fo called, Ten Pounds for the fecond, and Banifiment for the third ; under pain of Felony for efcaping or returning without Licenfe. Which Law was looked upon to have been procured by the Bifiops, in order to bring us to a Conformity to their Way of Worflrip : I wrote a few Lines in way of Dialogue between a Bijloop and a Quaker, which I called, Conformity Treji and Repre/i. B. \~\ THA Tl You are one of them that do deny * * To yield Obedience by Conformity. ^\ Nay : We defire conformable to be. *««.8. B. But unto what ? g>. The Image of the Son. B. What's that to us ! We 'I! have Conformity Unto our Form. jg>. Then we (hall ne'er have done. For, if your fickle Minds mould alter, we Should be to feek a New Conformity. Thus who To-day conform to Prelacy^ To-morrow may conform to Popery. But take this for an Aniwer, Biflop, we Cannot conform either to them, or Thee. For Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 203 For while to Truth your Forms are oppofite, 1665. Whoe'er conforms thereto doth not aright, ^***^ B. Well make fuch Knaves as you conform, or lie Confifid in Prifons, till ye rot and die. ^ Well, gentle Biftop, I may live to fee, For all thy Threats, a Check to Cruelty, And thee rewarded, with thy envious Crew, According as unto your Works is due ; But, in the mean Time, I, for my Defence, Betake me to my Fortrefs, Patience. No fooner was this cruel Law made, but ft was put in Execution with great Severity. The Senfe whereof working ftrongly on my Spirit, made me cry earneftly to the Lord, that he would arife and fet up His righteous Judgment in the Earth, for. the Deliverance of His People from all their Enemies, both inward and out- ward : And in thcfe Terms I uttered it. A Wake, awake, O Arm o'th' Lord awake, Thy Sword up take ; Call what would thine forgetful of Thee make, Into the Lake. Awake, I pray, O mighty Jah y awake, Make all the World before Thy Piefence quake, Not only Earth, but Heaven alfo (hake. Arife, 204 7& HISTORY 1665. Arife, arife, O Jacob's God, arife, ^*^ And hear the Cries Of ev'ry Soul which in Diftrefs now lies^ And to Thee flies. Arife, I pray, O Ifrael's Hope arife, Set free Thy Seed, oppreft by Enemies. Why fhould they over it ftiil tyrannize ! Make Speed, make Speed, O Ijraefc Help, make In time of Need ; (Speed, For evil Men have wickedly decreed Againfl Thy Seed. Make Speed, I pray, O mighty God, make Speed* Let all Thy Lambs from favage Wolves be freed, That fearlefs on Thy Mountain they may feed. Ride on, ride on, Thou valiant Man of Might, And put to Flight Thofe Sons of Belial, who do Defpight To the Upright. Ride on, I fay, Thou Champion, and fmit6 Thine and Thy Peoples En'mies with fuch Might, That none may dare 'gain ft Thee, or Thine to Fight. Although Of T. Ell wood's LIFE. 205 Although the Storm, raifed by the Act for 1 665- Baniflment, fell with the greateft Weight and Force upon fome other Farts, as at London^ Hertford^ See. yet we were not, in Bucking- hanijhire, wholly exempted therefrom, for a Part of that Shower reached us alfo. For a Friend of Amerfoam^ whofe Name was Edward Perot, or Parret, departing this Life, and Notice being given that his Body would be buried there on fuch a Day, which was the fit ft Day of the fifth Month 1665, the Friends of the adjacent Parts of the Country reforted pretty generally to the Burial 5 fo that there was a fair Appearance of Friends and Neighbours, the Deceafed having been well - beloved by both. After we had fpent fome Time together in the Houfe, Morgan Watkins, who at that Time happen'd to be at Ifaac Peningtoiis, being with us, the Body was taken up and borne on Friends Shoulders along the Street, in order to be car- ried to the Burying-ground, which was at the Tow r n's End, being part of an Orchard belong- ing to the Deceafed, which he in his Life-time had appointed for that Seivice. It fo happened that one Ambrofe Benett, a Barrifler at Law and a Juilice of the Peace for that County, riding through the Town that Morning in his Way to Aykfbury y was by fome ili-difpoied Perfon or other, informed that there was a Quaker to be buried there that Day, and that moft 6f ."the Quakers in the Country were come thither to the Burial, Upon 206 tfk HISTORY — . i i a 1665. Upon this he fet up his Horfes and ftaid ; .HH and when we, not knowing any Thing of his Defign againft us, went innocently forward, to perform our Chriftian Duty for the Interment of our Friend, he rufhed out of his Inn upon us, with the Conftables and a Rabble of rude Fellows, whom he had gathered together, and having his drawn Sword in his Hand, ftruck one of the Foremoft of the Bearers with it, commanding them to fet down the Coffin. But the Friend who was fo ftricken, whofe Name was Thomas Dell, being more concerned for the Safety of the dead Body than his own, left it (hould fall from his Shoulder, and any In- decency thereupon follow, held the Coffin faft : Which the Juftice obferving, and being enraged that his Word (how unjuft foever) was not forthwith obeyed, fet his Hand to the Coffin, and with a forcible Thruft threw it off from the Bearers Shoulders, fo that it fell to the Ground in the Midft of the Street, and there we were forced to leave it. For immediately thereupon the Jnftice giving Command for the apprehending us, the Con- ftables with the Rabble fell on us, and drew fome, and drove others into the Inn, giving thereby an Opportuntiy to the reft to walk away. Of thofe that were thus taken, I was one. And being, with many more, put into a Room under a Guard, we were kept there till another Juftice (called Sir Thomas Clayton, whom Juftice Benett had fent for to join with him in com- mitting us) was come. And then, being called forth Of T. E l l w o o d's L I f E. attp forth feverally before them, they picked out 1665^ Ten of us, and committed us to Aylcjbury Jail,- ^^P^ for what neither we nor they knew : For we we were not convicted of having either don© or faid any Thing which the Law could taks hold of : For they took us up in the open Street (the King's High-way) not doing any unlawful A£t, but peaceably carrying and accompanying, the Corpfe of our deeeafed Friend to' bury it. Which they would not fuffer us to do, but caufed the Body to lie in the open Street, and in the Cart-way ; fo that all the Travellers that paiTed by, whether Horie-men, Coaches, Carts,, or Waggons, were fain to break out of the Way to go by it, that they might not drive over ir,, until it was almoft Night. And then having caufed a Grave to be made in the unconfi crated Part (as it is accounted) of that which 19 called . the Church-yard, they forcibly took the Body from the Widow, whofe Right and Property it was, and buried it there. When the Juftices" had delivered us Prifoneis to the Conftable, it being then late in the Day^ which was the Seventh-day of the Week, he not willing to go fo far as Aylejbury (nine long Miles) with us that Night, nor to put the Town to the Charge of keeping us there thaE Night, and the Firft-day and Night following,,, difmift us upon our Parole tocome to him again at a fet Hour on the Second-day Morning v. Whereupon we all went home to cur refpe