at leisure, I intended a full refutation thereof; and in order thereunto had written between forty and fifty sheets; when other business more urgent, intervening, took me off, and detained me from it so long, that it was then judged out of season, and so it was laid aside.

Hitherto the war I had been engaged in, was in a sort foreign with people of other religious persuasions, such as were open and avowed enemies; but now another sort of war arose, an intestine war, raised by some among ourselves; such as had once been of us, and yet retained the same profession, and would have been thought to be of us still; but having through ill-grounded jealousies, let in discontents, and thereupon fallen into jangling, chiefly about church discipline, they at length brake forth into an open schism, headed by two northern men of name and note, John Wilkinson and John Story. The latter of whom, as being the most active and popular man, having gained a considerable interest in the west, carried the controversy with him thither, and there spreading it, drew many, too many, to abet him therein.

Among those, William Rogers, a merchant of Bristol, was not the least, nor least accounted of, by himself and some others.— He was a bold and an active man, moderately learned, but immoderately conceited of his own parts and abilities, which made him forward to engage, as thinking none would dare to take up the gauntlet he should cast down. This high opinion of himself, made him rather a troublesome than formidable enemy.

That I may here step over the various steps, by which he advanced to open hostility (as what I was not actually, or personally engaged in,)—he in a while arrived to that height of folly and wickedness, that he wrote and published a large book in five parts, to which he maliciously gave for a title "The Christian Quaker distinguished from the Apostate and Innovator," thereby arrogating to himself, and those who were of his party, the topping style of Christian Quaker; and no less impiously than uncharitably branding and rejecting all others (even the main body of Friends) for apostates and innovators.

When this book came abroad, it was not a little (and he, for its sake) cried up by his injudicious admirers, whose applause setting his head afloat, he came up to London at the time of the Yearly Meeting then following, and at the close thereof, gave notice in writing to this effect, viz.: "That if any were dissatisfied with his book, he was there ready to maintain and defend both it and himself against all comers."

This daring challenge was neither dreaded nor slighted, but an answer forthwith returned in writing, signed by a few Friends, amongst whom I was one, to let him know, that as many were dissatisfied with his book and him, he should not fail (God willing)

to be met by the sixth hour next morning, at the meeting-place, at Devonshire house.

Accordingly we met, and continued the meeting till noon or after; in which time he, surrounded with those of his own party, as might abet and assist him, was so fairly foiled and baffled, and so fully exposed, that he was glad to quit the place, and early next morning the town also; leaving, in excuse for his going so abruptly off, (and thereby refusing us another meeting with him, which we had earnestly provoked him to) this slight shift, "That he had before given earnest for his passage in the stage coach home, and was not willing to lose it."

I had before this gotten a sight of his book, and procured one for my use on this occasion, but I had not time to read it through: but a while after, Providence cast another of them into my hands very unexpectedly; for our dear friend George Fox passing through this country among Friends, and lying in his journey at my house, had one of them in his bags, which he had made some marginal notes upon. For that good man, like Julius Cæsar, willing to improve all parts of his time, did usually, even in his travels, dictate to his amanuensis what he would have committed to writing. I knew not that he had this book with him, for he had not said any thing to me of it, till going in the morning into his chamber, while he was dressing himself, I found it lying on the table by him. And understanding that he was going but for a few weeks, to visit friends in the meetings hereabouts, and the neighboring parts of Oxford and Berkshire, and so return through this county again, I made bold to ask him if he would favor me so much as to leave it with me till his return, that I might have the opportunity of reading it through. He consented, and as soon almost as he was gone, I set myself to read it over. But I had not gone far in it, ere, observing the many foul falsehoods, malicious slanders, gross perversions, and false doctrines, abounding in it, the sense thereof inflamed my breast with a just and holy indignation against the work, and that devilish spirit in which it was brought forth: wherefore, finding my spirit raised, and my understanding divinely opened to refute it, I began the book again, and reading it with pen in hand, answered it paragraphically as I went. And so clear were the openings I received from the Lord therein, that by the time my friend came back, I had gone through the greatest part of it, and was too far ged in spirit, to think of giving over the work: wherefore, requesting him to continue the book a little longer with me, I soon after finished the answer, which, with Friends' approbation, was printed under the title of "An Antidote against the Infection of William Rogers' Book, miscalled, The Christian Quaker, &c.'" This was written in the year 1682. But no answer was given

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to it, (either by him or any other of his party, tho' many others were concerned therein, and some by name) so far as I have ever heard. Perhaps there might be an hand of Providence over-ruling them therein, to give me leisure to attend some other services, which soon after fell upon me.

For it being a stormy time, and persecution waxing hot, upon the Conventicle Act, through the busy boldness of hungry informers, who for their own advantage, did not only themselves hunt after religious and peaceable meetings, but drove on the officers, not only the more inferior and subordinate, but, in some places, even the Justices also, for fear of penalties, to hunt with them, and for them: I found a pressure upon my spirit to write a small treatise, to inform such officers how they might secure and defend themselves from being ridden by those malapert informers, and made their drudges.

This treatise I called "A Caution to Constables, and other inferior Officers, concerned in the Execution of the Conventicle Act. With some Observations thereupon, humbly offered by way of Advice to such well-meaning and moderate Justices of the peace, as would not willingly ruin their peaceable Neighbors,"

&c.

This was thought to have some good service where it came, upon such sober and moderate officers, as well Justices, as Constables, &c. as acted rather by constraint than choice; by encouraging them to stand their ground, with more courage and resolution, against the insults of saucy informers.

But whatever ease it brought to others, it brought me some trouble, and had like to have brought me into more danger, had not Providence wrought my deliverance by an unexpected way.

For as soon as it came forth in print, which was in the year 1683, one William Ayrs, of Watford, in Hertfordshire, a Friend, and an acquaintance of mine, (who was both an apothecary and barber) being acquainted with divers of the gentry in those parts, and going often to some of their houses to trim them, took one of these books with him, when he went to trim Sir Benjamin Titchborn, of Rickmansworth, and presented it to him, supposing he would have taken it kindly, as in like cases he had formerly done. But it fell out otherwise. For he looking it over after Ayrs was gone, and taking it by the wrong handle, entertained an evil opinion of it, and of me for it, though he knew me not.

He thereupon communicated both the book and his thoughts upon it to a neighboring Justice, living in Rickmansworth, whose name was Thomas Fotherly; who concurring with him in judgment, they concluded that I should be taken up and prosecuted for it, as a seditious book: for a libel they could not call it, my name being to it at length.

Wherefore sending for Ayrs, who had brought the book, Jus

tice Titchborn examined him if he knew me, and where I dwelt. Who telling him he knew me well, and had often been at my house, he gave him in charge to give me notice, that I should appear before him and the other Justice at Rickmansworth, on such a day; threatening, that if I did not appear, he himself should be prosecuted for spreading the book.

This put William Ayrs in a fright. Over he came in haste with this message to me, troubled that he should be a means to bring me into trouble. But I endeavored to give him ease, by assuring him I would not fail (with God's leave) to appear at the time and place appointed, and thereby free him from trouble or danger.

In the interim I received advice, by an express out of Sussex, that Guli Penn, with whom I had had an intimate acquaintance, and firm friendship from our very youths, was very dangerously ill, her husband being then absent in Pennsylvania, and that she had a great desire to see and speak with me.

This put me to a great strait, and brought a sore exercise on my mind. I was divided betwixt honor and friendship. I had engaged my word to appear before the Justices; which to omit would bring dishonor on me and my profession. To stay till that time was come and past, might probably prove (if I should then be left at liberty) too late to answer her desire, and satisfy friendship.

After some little deliberation, I resolved, as the best expedient to answer both ends, to go over next morning to the Justices, and lay my strait before them, and try if I could procure from them a respite of my appearance before them, until I had been in Essex, and paid the duty of friendship to my sick friend: which I had the more hopes to obtain, because I knew those Justices had a great respect for Guli: for when William Penn and she were first married, they lived for some years at Rickmansworth, in which time they contracted a neighborly friendship with both these Justices and theirs, who ever after retained a kind regard for them both.

Early therefore in the morning I rode over. But being wholly a stranger to the Justices, I went first to Watford, that I might take Ayrs along with me, who supposed himself to have some interest in Justice Titchborn; and when I came there, understanding that another Friend of that town, whose name was John Wells, was well acquainted with the other Justice Fotherly; having imparted to them the occasion of my coming, I took them both with me, and hasted back to Rickmansworth. Where having put our horses up at an inn, and leaving William Ayrs (who was a stranger to Fotherly) there, I went with John Wells to Fotherly's house; and being brought into a fair hall, I tarried there while Wells went into the parlor to him, and having ac

quainted him that I was there, and desired to speak with him, brought him to me with severity in his countenance.

After he had asked me, in a tone which spake displeasure, what I had to say to him, I told him I came to wait on him upon an intimation given me, that he had something to say to me: he thereupon plucking my book out of his pocket, asked me if I owned myself to be the author of that book: I told him if he pleased to let me look into it, if it were mine, I would not deny it. He thereupon giving it into my hand, when I had turned over the leaves, and looked it through, finding it to be as it came from the press, I told him I wrote the book, and would own it, all but the errors of the press. Whereupon he, looking sternly on me, answered, "Your own errors you should have said."

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Having innocency on my side, I was not at all daunted at either his speech or looks; but feeling the Lord present with me, I replied, "I know there are errors of the press in it, and therefore I excepted them; but I do not know there are any errors of mine in it, and therefore cannot except them. But, (added I,) if thou pleasest to show me any error of mine in it, I shall readily both acknowledge and retract it:" and thereupon I desired him to give me an instance, in any one passage in that book, wherein he thought I had erred. He said he needed not go into particulars; but charge me with the general contents of the whole book. I replied that such a charge would be too general for me to give a particular answer to; but if he would assign me any particular passage, or sentence in the book, wherein he apprehended the ground of offence to lie; when I should have opened the terms, and explained my meaning therein, he might perhaps find cause to change his mind, and entertain a better opinion both of the book and me. And therefore I again entreated him to let me know what particular passage or passages had given him an offence. He told me I needed not to be in so much haste for that; I might have it timely enough, if not too soon: but this, said he, is not the day appointed for your hearing, and therefore, added he, what. I pray, made you in such haste to come now? I told him I hoped he would not take it for an argument of guilt, that I came before I was sent for, and offered myself to my purgation before the time appointed. And this I spake with somewhat a brisker air, which had so much influence on him, as to bring a somewhat softer air over his countenance.

Then going on, I told him I had a particular occasion which induced me to come now, which was, that I received advice last night, by an express out of Sussex, that William Penn's wife (with whom I had had an intimate acquaintance and strict friendship, ab ipsis fere incunabilis,* at least, a teneris unguiculis,†)

* Almost from our cradle.

+ From our tender age.