In this year William Caton went again into Scotland, from whence returning, he travelled to Bristol, thence to Plymouth, and so to London; from whence he made a voyage again to Holland, where William Ames and John Stubbs had been, and also found some among the English people at Amsterdam, who had received the doctrine they preached, though afterwards they turned from it again. W. Ames found also some reception among the Baptists there, who at first were pleased with him, but J. Stubbs did not please them so well: as Dr. Galenus Abrahams once told me, who compared Ames to a musician that played a very melodious tune, and Stubbs to a disturber of the harmonious music; though Ames afterwards, for his great zeal, was found fault with also.
W. Caton now arrived at Dort, and from thence repaired to Rotterdam, where, for want of an interpreter that understood English, he was fain to make use of the Latin. But it grieved him exceedingly to meet with some unruly spirits there, that having been in some measure convinced by W. Ames, ran out under the denomination of Quakers, into extremes, both in words and writings. Some of these persons I know, and have seen also some of the books they published in print, in which, under a pretence of plainness, not one capital letter was to be found, even not to proper names, nay, not to names of authors themselves. And since they ran out into several other extravagancies, it was not much to be wondered, that the magistrates clapt them up in Bedlam. The ringleader of these people, was one Isaac Furnier, who formerly, (as I have heard my uncle tell, who had seen it himself,) lived as another Diogenes, using at the fire, instead of a pair of tongs, a split stick; and now conversing among the Quakers, so called, made it a piece of holiness to use the most blunt language, he could think of; how absurd and irregular soever. In fine, he so behaved himself, that the orthodox Quakers rejected his society. He it was, as I have understood, who was the author of that ridiculous saying, ‘My spirit testifieth:’ which, though not approved nor used by the true Quakers, yet hath been so spread among the people in the Low Countries, that it hath been constantly credited, and is not yet quite disbelieved, that the Quakers used to say so of any thing they intend to do; and that if any one, whoever it be, says so, they will give credit to his saying. The abovesaid Dr. Galenus told me, that this man coming to his door, and finding the doctor’s name writ on the post of the door, (as is usual in Holland,) did with his knife, scratch out the letters Dr. signifying doctor. On which the doctor asked him, why he did so? And his answer was, because the spirit did testify so unto him. And being asked farther, if so be that spirit did move him to stab the doctor with the knife, whether he would follow that motion, he answered, (if the relation be true,) as the doctor affirmed to me, ‘Yes.’ But however it be, this is true, that this Furnier was a passionate, and giddy-headed man, whom the true Quakers could not own, though he had translated many of their books out of English into Dutch; and would also preach amongst them. But at length he left them, and turning papist, fell into a dissolute and debauched life.
But to return to W. Caton: coming to Amsterdam, he did not find much more satisfaction there than at Rotterdam; for several high-conceited professors, who seemed to approve the doctrine preached by the Quakers, were more apt to take upon them to teach others, than to receive instruction from others. Wherefore W. Caton did not stay long at Amsterdam, but returned to Rotterdam; and from thence went to Zealand, arriving at Middleburgh, accompanied with a certain young man, who went to some of the meeting-places in that city, and was apprehended; which Caton understanding, went to visit him, and they perceiving that he was his companion, secured him also; and after having been kept in prison some days, being weak in body, it was ordered that they should be sent to England; and so they were carried in a coach-wagon to the water-side, being conducted by a guard of soldiers, to protect them against the rude multitude, and brought on board a ship of war, where Caton suffered great hardship; for the seamen were so ill-natured, that they would not allow him so much as a piece of sailcloth, but he was fain to lie upon the bare boards, in very cold and stormy weather. But though thus hardly used, yet he felt his strength increase, and so experienced the mercies of God. It was in November when he arrived at London, where he was kindly received by the brethren: after some stay there, he went to Hampshire, Surry, Sussex, and Kent.
Not long before this, G. Fox came to Exeter, where James Nayler was in prison, and spoke to him by way of reproof; which Nayler slighted, though he offered to kiss G. Fox: but he unwilling to suffer this, said, since he had turned against the power of God, he could not receive his show of kindness. It appeared by letters the magistrates found in his pocket at Bristol, that the Quakers found fault with him, and had reproved him of his high-mindedness, before it launched out into that extravagant act which made so great a noise in the world, and hath been mixed with many untruths, and false turns. I have therefore thought it worth while to inquire narrowly into it, in order to give a true relation of matters of fact.
This James Nayler was born of honest parents,[9] in the parish of Ardesley, near Wakefield in Yorkshire, about the year 1616. He had served in the parliament army, being quarter-master in major-general Lambert’s troop in Scotland; was a member of the Independents; and afterwards, in the year 1651, he entered into the communion of the Quakers, so called.[10] He was a man of excellent natural parts, and at first did acquit himself well, both in word and writing among his friends, so that many came to receive the Truth by his ministry. He came to London towards the latter end of the year 1654, or beginning of 1655, and found there a meeting of friends, which had already been gathered in that city, by the service of Edward Burrough, and Francis Howgill; and there he preached in such an eminent manner, that many admiring his great gift, began to esteem him much above his brethren, which as it brought him no benefit, so it gave occasion of some difference in the society; and this ran so high, that some forward and inconsiderate women, of whom Martha Simmons was the chief, assumed the boldness to dispute with F. Howgill and E. Burrough, openly in their preaching, and thus to disturb the meetings:[11] whereupon they, who were truly excellent preachers, did not fail, according to their duty to reprove this indiscretion. But these women were so disgusted, that Martha, and another woman, went and complained to J. Nayler, to incense him against F. Howgill and E. Burrough; but this did not succeed, for he showed himself afraid to pass judgment upon his brethren, as they desired. Hereupon Martha fell into a passion, in a kind of moaning or weeping, and, bitterly crying out with a mournful shrill voice, said, ‘I looked for judgment, but behold a cry;’ and with that cried aloud in a passionate lamenting manner, which so entered and pierced J. Nayler, that it smote him down into so much sorrow and sadness, that he was much dejected in spirit, or disconsolate. Fear and doubting then entered him, so that he came to be clouded in his understanding, bewildered, and at a loss in his judgment, and became estranged from his best friends, because they did not approve his conduct; insomuch that he began to give ear to the flattering praises of some whimsical people, which he ought to have abhorred, and reproved them for. But his sorrowful fall ought to stand as a warning, even to those that are endued with great gifts, that they do not presume to be exalted, lest they also fall, but endeavour to continue in true humility, in which alone a Christian can be kept safe.
[9] His father was a husbandman, and of good repute, having a competent estate to live on, with industry, according to the manner of the country where he dwelt. He was educated in good English, and wrote well. About the age of twenty-two he married, and then removed into Wakefield parish; where he continued, till the wars broke out in 1641, and then went into the army, and was a soldier eight or nine years, first under the Lord Fairfax, and afterwards quarter-master under major-general Lambert, till disabled by sickness in Scotland, he returned home about 1649.—J. W.’s account.
[10] He and Thomas Goodair were convinced by G. Fox, about Wakefield, anno 1651, as were also Richard Farnsworth, Thomas Aldam, William Dewsbury, and wife, about the same time. And in the beginning of the year following, as he was in the field at plough, meditating on the things of God, he heard a voice, bidding him to go out from his kindred, and from his father’s house; and had a promise given with it, that the Lord would be with him; whereupon he did exceedingly rejoice that