the village of Aylesbury, and in the very prison itself; but the noble-hearted Mary Pennington followed her husband, sharing with him the dark peril. Poor Ellwood, while attending a monthly meeting at Hedgerly, with six others, (among them one Morgan Watkins, a poor old Welshman, who, painfully endeavoring to utter his testimony in his own dialect, was suspected by the Dogberry of a justice of being a Jesuit trolling over his Latin,) was arrested, and committed to Wiccomb House of Correction.

science, at the cost of home, fortune, and life. English liberty owes more to your unyielding firmness than to the blows stricken for her at Worcester and Naseby.

In 1667, we find the Latin teacher in attendance at a great meeting of Friends, in London, convened at the suggestion of George Fox, for the purpose of settling a little difficulty which had arisen among the Friends, even under the pressure of the severest persecution, relative to the very important matter of "wearing the hat." George This was a time of severe trial for the sect with Fox, in his love of truth and sincerity, in word which Ellwood had connected himself. In the and action, had discountenanced the fashionable very midst of the pestilence, when thousands per- doffing of the hat, and other flattering obeisances ished weekly in London, fifty-four Quakers were towards men holding stations in church or state, marched through the almost deserted streets, and as savoring of man-worship-giving to the creature placed on board a ship, for the purpose of being the reverence only due to the Creator-as undigconveyed, according to their sentence of banish-nified and wanting in due self-respect, and tending ment, to the West Indies. The ship lay for a long to support unnatural and oppressive distinctions time, with many others similarly situated, a helpless prey to the pestilence. Through that terrible autumn, the prisoners sat waiting for the summons of the ghastly Destroyer; and, from their floating dungeon,

"Heard the groan

Of agonizing ships from shore to shore;
Heard nightly plunged beneath the sullen wave
The frequent corse."

among those equal in the sight of God. But some of his disciples evidently made much more of this "hat testimony" than their teacher. One John Perrott, who had just returned from an unsuccessful attempt to convert the pope, at Rome, (where that dignitary, after listening to his exhortations, and finding him in no condition to be benefited by the spiritual physicians of the Inquisition, had quietly turned him over to the temporal ones When the vessel at length set sail, of the fifty- of the Insane Hospital,) had broached the doctrine four who went on board, twenty-seven only were that, in public or private worship, the hat was not living. A Dutch privateer captured her, when two to be taken off, without an immediate revelation days out, and carried the prisoners to North Hol- or call to do so! Ellwood himself seems to have land, where they were set at liberty. The con- been on the point of yielding to this notion, which dition of the jails in the city, where were large appears to have been the occasion of a good deal numbers of Quakers, was dreadful in the extreme. of dissension and scandal. Under these circumIll-ventilated, crowded, and loathsome with the ac- stances, to save truth from reproach, and an imcumulated filth of centuries, they invited the disease portant testimony to the essential equality of manwhich daily decimated their cells. "Go on!" says kind from running into sheer fanaticism, Fox Pennington, writing to the king and bishops from summoned his tried and faithful friends together, his plague-infected cell in the Aylesbury prison, from all parts of the United Kingdom, and, as it "try it out with the Spirit of the Lord, come appears, with the happiest result. Hat-revelations forth with your laws, and prisons, and spoiling of were discountenanced, good order and harmony goods, and banishment, and death, if the Lord reestablished, and John Perrott's beaver, and the please, and see if ye can carry it! Whom the crazy head under it, were from thenceforth powerLord loveth, He can save at pleasure. Hath He less for evil. Let those who are disposed to laugh begun to break our bonds and deliver us, and shall at this notable Ecumenical Council of the Hat, we now distrust him? Are we in a worse con- consider that celesiastical history has brought down dition than Israel was when the sea was before to us the records of many larger and more imposthem, the mountains on either side, and the Egyp-ing convocations, wherein grave bishops and learned tians behind pursuing them?"

Brave men and faithful! It is not necessary that the present generation, now quietly reaping the fruit of your heroic endurance, should see eye to eye with you in respect to all your testimonies and beliefs, in order to recognize your claim to gratitude and admiration. For, in an age of hypocritical hollowness and mean self-seeking, when, with a few noble exceptions, the very Puritans of Cromwell's Reign of the Saints were taking profane lessons from their old enemies, and putting on an outside show of conformity, for the sake of place or pardon, ye maintained the austere dignity of virtue, and, with king, and church, and parliament arrayed against you, vindicated the rights of con

fathers took each other by the beard upon matters of far less practical importance.

In 1669, we find Ellwood engaged in escorting his fair friend, Gulielma, to her uncle's residence in Sussex. Passing through London, and taking the Tunbridge road, they stopped at Seven Oak to dine. The Duke of York was on the road, with his guards and hangers-on, and the inn was filled with a rude company. "We hastened," says Ellwood, "from a place where we found nothing but rudeness; the roysterers who swarmed there, besides the damning oaths they belehed out against each other, looked very sourly upon us, as if they grudged us the horses which we rode and the clothes we wore." They had proceeded but a

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little distance, when they were overtaken by some her." "At length," he tells us, as I was sitting half dozen drunken rough-riding cavaliers, of the all alone, waiting upon the Lord for counsel and Wildrake stamp, in full pursuit after the beautiful guidance in this, in itself and to me, important Quakeress. One of them impudently attempted to affair, I felt a word sweetly arise in me, as if I had pull her upon his horse before him, but was held heard a voice which said, Go, and prevail! and at bay by Ellwood, who seems, on this occasion, faith springing in my heart at the word, I immeto have relied somewhat upon his "stick," in de- diately rose and went, nothing doubting." On fending his fair charge. Calling up Gulielma's arriving at her residence, he states that he "solservant, he bade him ride on one side of his mis-emnly opened his mind to her," which was a great tress, while he guarded her on the other. "But surprisal to her, for she had taken in an apprehe," says Ellwood, "not thinking it perhaps de-hension, as others had also done, that his eye had cent to ride so near his mistress, left room enough been fixed elsewhere and nearer home. "I used for another to ride between." In dashed the not many words to her," he continues, "but I drunken retainer, and Gulielma was once more in felt a divine power went along with the words, and peril. It was clearly no time for exhortations and fixed the matter expressed by them so fast in her expostulations, "so," says Ellwood, "I chopped breast that, as she afterwards acknowledged to me, in upon him, by a nimble turn, and kept him at she could not shut it out." bay. I told him I had hitherto spared him, but wished him not to provoke me further. This I spoke in such a tone as bespoke an high Resentment of the Abuse put upon us, and withal, pressed him so hard with my Horse, that I suffered him not to come up again to Guli.” By this time, it became evident to the companions of the ruffianly assailant that the young Quaker was in earnest, and they hastened to interfere. "For they," says Ellwood, "seeing the contest rise so high, and probably fearing it would rise higher, not knowing where it might stop, came in to part us; which they did, by taking him away."

"I continued," he says, "my visits to my best beloved friend until we married, which was on the 28th day of the eighth month, 1669. We took each other in a select meeting of the ancient and grave Friends of that country. A very solemn meeting it was, and in a weighty frame of spirit we were." His wife seems to have had some estate; and Elwood, with that nice sense of justice which marked all his actions, immediately made his will, securing to her, in case of his decease, all her own goods and moneys, as well as all that he had himself acquired before marriage. Which," he tells, 66 was indeed but little, yet, by all that Escaping from these sons of Belial, Ellwood and little, more than I had ever given her ground to his fair companion rode on through Tunbridge expect with me. His father, who was yet unWells, "the streets thronged with men, who reconciled to the son's religious views, found fault looked very earnestly at them, but offered them no with his marriage, on the ground that it was unaffront," and arrived, late at night, in a driving | lawful, and unsanctioned by priest or liturgy; and rain, at the mansion house of Harbert Springette. consequently, refused to render him any pecuniary The fiery old gentleman was so indignant at the insult offered to his niece, that he was with difficulty dissuaded from demanding satisfaction at the hands of the Duke of York.

This seems to have been his last ride with Gulielma. She was soon after married to William Penn, and took up her abode at Worminghurst, in Sussex. How blessed and beautiful was that union may be understood from the following paragraph of a letter, written by her husband, on the eve of his departure for America to lay the foundations of a Christian colony :

"My dear Wife! remember thou wast the love of my youth, and much the joy of my life-the most beloved, as well as the most worthy of all my earthly comforts; and the reason of that love was more thy inward than thy outward excellences, which yet were many. God knows, and thou knowest it, I can say it was a match of Providence's making; and God's image in us both was the first thing and the most amiable and engaging ornament in our eyes."

assistance. Yet, in spite of this and other trials, he seems to have preserved his serenity of spirit. After an unpleasant interview with his father, on one occasion, he wrote, at his lodgings in an inn, in London, what he calls "A Song of Praise." An extract from it will serve to show the spirit of the good man in affliction :

"Unto the Glory of Thy Holy Name,

Eternal God! whom I both love and fear,
I hereby do declare, I never came

Before Thy throne, and found Thee loth to hear,
But always ready with an open ear.
And, though sometimes Thou seem'st Thy face to
hide,

As one that had withdrawn his love from me,
'Tis that my Faith may to the full be tried,
And that I thereby may the better see
How weak I am when not upheld by Thee!"

The next year, 1670, an act of parliament, in relation to "Conventicles," provides that any per son who should be present at any meeting, under color or pretence of any exercise of religion, in About this time, our friend Thomas, seeing that other manner than according to the liturgy and his old playmate at Chalfont was destined for an- practice of the Church of England, "should be liaother, turned his attention towards a "young ble to fines of from five to ten shillings; and any friend, named Mary Ellis." He had been for sev-person preaching at or giving his house for the eral years acquainted with her, but now he "found meeting, to a fine of twenty pounds—one third of bis heart secretly drawn and inclining towards the fines being received by the informer or inform

ers."

As a natural consequence of such a law, the vilest scoundrels in the land set up the trade of informers and heresy-hunters. Wherever a dissenting meeting or burial took place, there was sure to be a mercenary spy, ready to bring a complaint against all in attendance. The Independents and Baptists ceased, in a great measure, to hold public meetings, yet even they did not escape prosecution. Bunyan, for instance, in these days, was dreaming, like another Jacob, of angels ascending and descending, in Bedford prison. But upon the poor Quakers fell, as usual, the great force of the unjust enactment. Some of these spies or informers, men of sharp wit, close countenances, pliant tempers, and skilled in dissimulation, took the guise of Quakers, Independents, or Baptists, as occasion required, thrusting themselves into the meetings of the proscribed sects, ascertaining the number who attended, their rank and condition, and then informing against them. Ellwood, in his journal for 1670, describes several of these emissaries of evil. One of them came to a Friend's house, in Bucks, professing to be a brother in the faith, but, overdoing his counterfeit Quakerism, was detected and dismissed by his host. Betaking himself to the inn, he appeared in his true character, drank and swore roundly, and confessed over his cups that he had been sent forth on his mission by the Rev. Dr. Mew, Vice Chancellor of Oxford. Finding little success in counterfeiting Quakerism, he turned to the Baptists, where, for a time, he met with better success. Ellwood, at this time, rendered good service to his friends, by exposing the true character of these wretches, and bringing them to justice for theft, perjury, and other misde

meanors.

As Advantage led the way.
If well hired, he would dispute,
Otherwise, he would be mute.
But, he 'd bawl for half a day,
If he knew and liked his pay.
"For his person, let it pass;

Only note his face was brass.
His heart was like a pumice stone,
And for Conscience he had none.
Of Earth and Air he was composed
With Water round about enclosed.
Earth in him had greatest share,
Questionless, his life lay there;
Thence his cankered Envy sprung,
Poisoning both his heart and tongue.

"Air made him frothy, light, and vain,
And puffed him with a proud disdain.
Into the Water oft he went,
And through the water many sent,
That was, ye know, his element !
The greatest odds that did appear
Was this, for aught that I can hear,
That he in cold did others dip,
But did himself hot water sip.

"And his cause he'd never doubt,
If well soaked o'er night in Stout;
But, meanwhile, he must not lack,
Brandy, and a draught of Sack.
One dispute would shrink a bottle
Of three pints, if not a pottle.
One would think he fetched from thence
All his dreamy eloquence.

"Let us now bring back the Sot
To his Aqua Vita pot,

And observe, with some content,
How he framed his argument.
That his whistle he might wet,
The bottle to his mouth he set,
And, being Master of that Art,
Thence he drew the Major part,
But left the Minor still behind;
Good reason why, he wanted wind;
If his breath would have held out,
He had Conclusion drawn, no doubt."

The residue of Ellwood's life seems to have

While this storm of persecution lasted, (a period of two or three years,) the different dissenting sects felt, in some measure, a common sympathy, and, while guarding themselves against their common foe, had little leisure for controversy with each other; but, as was natural, the abatement of their mutual suffering and danger was the signal for renewing their suspended quarrels. The Baptists glided on in serenity and peace. He wrote, at infell upon the Quakers, with pamphlet and sermon ; tervals, many pamphlets in defence of his society the latter replied in the same way. One of the and in favor of liberty of conscience. At his hosmost conspicuous of the Baptist disputants was the pitable residence, the leading spirits of the sect famous Jeremy Ives, with whom our friend Ell-were warmly welcomed. George Fox and Wilwood seems to have had a good deal of trouble. liam Penn seemed to have been frequent guests. "His name," says Ellwood, was up for a topping We find that, in 1683, he was arrested for seditious Disputant. He was well read in the fallacies of publications, when on the eve of hastening to his logic, and was ready in framing Syllogisms. His early friend, Gulielma, who, in the absence of her chief art lay in tickling the humor of rude, un-husband, Governor Penn, had fallen dangerously learned, and injudicious hearers.

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The following piece of Ellwood's, entitled "An Epitaph for Jeremy Ives," will serve to show that wit and drollery were sometimes found even among the proverbially sober Quakers of the seventeenth

century:

"Beneath this stone, depressed doth lie
The Mirror of Hypocrisy-
Ives, whose mercenary tongue
Like a Weathercock was hung,

And did this or that way play,

ill. On coming before the judge, "I told him," says Ellwood, "that I had that morning received an express out of Sussex, that William Penn's wife (with whom I had an intimate acquaintance, and strict friendship, ab ipsis fere incunabilis, at least, a teneris unquiculis) lay now ill, not without great danger, and that she had expressed her desire that I would come to her as soon as I could." The judge said, "He was very sorry for Madam Penn's illness," of whose virtues he spoke very highly, but not more than was her due. Then he

From Chambers' Journal.

BELIEF AND CONVICTION.

totally ignorant of astronomy, that on such a day a hundred years to come there will be an eclipse, he will believe it; but if any great stake depended upon it, such as his fortune or his life, he would immediately become restless and unsatisfied, showing clearly that his belief was not conviction, whilst the astronomer, who had gone carefully through every step of the investigation, would be perfectly at ease.

No one can ever become a man of decided character, whose opinions are not thus founded on "conviction," as opposed to mere "belief." For referred to that admirable work, some excellent remarks on this point, the reader is Foster's Essays."

At about this date his narrative ceases. We learn, from other sources, that he continued to write and print in defence of his religious views up to the year of his death, which took place in 1713. One of his productions, a poetical version of the Life of David, may be still met with, in the old Quaker libraries. On the score of poetical merit, For, without firm grounds for his "belief," he will it is about on a level with Michael Drayton's verses waver about with every wind of doctrine." If on the same subject. As the history of one of the we examine the daily conduct of all classes of firm confessors of the old struggle for religious society, we see in every one this want of "convicfreedom, as a genial-hearted and pleasant scholar, which half a million of people agreed, by nine tion." If a set of propositions were drawn up, on as the friend of Penn and Milton, and the suggest-tenths of them would the greater portion be violated er of PARADISE REGAINED, we trust our hurried in their conduct. Take, for instance, a set of such sketch has not been altogether without interest; assertions as those relating to the preservation of and that, whatever may be the religious views of health. "Fresh air is necessary, 66 Exercise is our readers, they have not failed to recognize a necessary,' "Moderation in eating and drinking," good and true man in Thomas Ellwood. &c. &c. Now, if people really were convinced of these facts, their conduct would show it. But they are not convinced, or anything like it. Nothing is so difficult as to convince people of the most obvious and generally admitted truths, especially if their own welfare depends upon acting on these truths, You may easily enough find persons to support aërial machines, impossible railways, or any other absurdity; but directly you try to make them act in accordance with principles, the truth of which they have admitted all their lives, you find you are talking to empty air. If one ten-thousandth part of the money, time, and energy were employed in putting into practice the most simple and evident truths, which are now squandered in useless vagaries, the comfort, health, wealth, and happiness of all classes throughout Europe would be more advanced in two years than in the last two hundred years. What is wanted is not a crusade to preach new opinions, but to get everybody to act up to those he already has. The object to be aimed at is the substitution of that thorough, clear-sighted, determined "conviction" which impels a man on as effectually as if the pains and punishment of neglect were staring him in the face, and about to fall on him immediately-the substitution of this for that lazy "belief" which gives assent because it is no more trouble than to dissent. Money won easily is lost again easily: opinions taken up without much care are either changed in the same way, or at any rate remain barren, lifeless, useless things. It is only by going carefully through every reason on which they are founded, and by thus having the mind deeply and frequently impressed with the reality of the truth, that these profitless and empty "beliefs" can be converted into practical principles. The difference between one man and another will be found to depend very greatly on the attention he has given to the proofs and reasons of things. The creed of one man is his own property, for he has made it himself; that of another is made up of odds and ends borrowed from all sources, often disagreeing with each other, and having no firm foundation whatever. Such a man is "unstable as water, and shall not prevail."

BETWEEN these two there is all the difference in the world. Perhaps there are scarcely ten thieves or dishonest tradesmen in England who do not believe that " honesty is the best policy;" but the actual conduct of each shows clearly enough that they are not convinced of this truth. Men scarcely ever act from opinions to which they have given merely theoretical assent. Unless the mind has been compelled into conviction by the reasons and grounds of assent having been repeated over and over again, brought before their eyes, and forced into their attention by instances and examples constantly renewed and impressed indelibly by the frequency with which they are presented-unless, I say, this be the way in which opinions are formed, they have not the slightest influence over men's actions. Just as in the material world the unceasing operation of some force, such as gravitation, is necessary to carry on and keep up with constancy the movement of the universe, where no mere casual impulse would suffice to produce aught beyond a momentary start, so in the world of thought and moral action, it is no bare and momentary sight of the truth which can effect anything practical. The wisdom of age and experience is precisely this -conviction from long familiarity with the proofs of those truths which the young and inexperienced have merely read in books or heard from others. If you tell a young and vigorous man that he will injure his health by this or that practice, he will probably give his verbal assent; but no impression is made on the mind, and he proceeds to do that which the older man has so strongly associated with the feelings of pain and disease consequent on it, that even if he were as young and healthy, he would not, and could not neglect the danger. The statements of science are believed by the great mass of people of course on trust. If you tell one who is

From Sharpe's Magazine.

THE MERCHANT.

CHAPTER I.

WE might discover an interesting chapter of human life, well filled with curious facts, could we board that noble East Indiaman just entering the Plymouth docks, and read the hearts and the lives, as well as scan the features, of the anxious crowd who, gathered together on her deck, appear all impatient to land. Seldom could we find more variety of character and circumstance.

sail for England, and proposed, the moment he reached her shores, to seek the dearest friend he possessed in her, the brother of his betrothed-a man happy in those domestic ties which Neville wanted, but slenderly furnished with the riches with which he was so amply supplied.

CHAPTER 11.

Mr. Markham, holding in his hand an open letter, which conveyed the welcome promise of Neville's arrival that very evening at the Grange, was standing with his wife before a picture representing a very beautiful girl in the costume worn twenty years before. Both gazed on it with mournful reflections. At length Mr. Markham said, "Shall we remove this picture, or shall we leave it here, Maria? Do you think that Edmund Neville will perceive Juliet's strong resemblance to it? Do you think the sight of it will distress him?"

years, to claim Juliet Markham as his bride, and again to seek with her a golden land. It was twenty years ago that he gave that promise-and it is yet unfulfilled. The most indefatigable application was rewarded by gradual advancement; but she for whom all his efforts were made, meanwhile sickened and died, while he labored for her in a distant land, and did not learn, for months after the event, that she who animated all his endeavors had passed into that state in which all he could bestow could profit her nothing. Still he did not abandon his avocations; he was far too wretched to be idle. We must, of necessity, mingle with that group, In vast and splendid attempts he ran bold risks, and for from among it have we to single out the chief amassed princely wealth. At length he wearied subject of our tale. Ah! now you cast a curious of his labors; he felt a yearning for his native land, eye around. It is not that young dragoon, with and yielded to the impulse, though to do so at that twisted moustache, and sallow skin, who, on ac-moment asked the sacrifice of thousands. He set count of ill-health, is returning to join the depot of his regiment; nor is it that very lovely, delicatelooking woman, who, for the same cause, has been sent by a husband, far more advanced in years, to reside for a while with his family in England, on whom the young soldier we have just mentioned is bestowing many little attentions, of the same class as those by which he has striven to alleviate the dulness of the long voyage to her. It is not that veteran hero who has fought on so many bloody fields; not that imperious judge, whose arbitrary behests are obeyed by his servants with trembling haste; nor is it that pale, sickly widow, who presses her young child to her breast, and anxiously reflects on what welcome will await her and her orphan at the family hearth of him who was her protector and support. It is none of these (though each may have a tale to tell) that I am seeking earnestly. But I discover him now; and though you did not fix on him for a hero, and exclaim triumphantly, "This is he" yet, when you mark him closer, you shall acknowledge that perhaps I have chosen well, or at least, that twenty years ago he must have been admirably qualified to sustain the character. Nay, reader, when you are as well acquainted with him as I intend to make you, you shall confess that (strange as it seems to talk of romance at forty!) he yet retains most of the necessary ingredients of a hero. You hinted at twenty years ago. Well, it is exactly twenty years since Edmund Neville quitted his native land, never to set foot on her shores till this very day; and at his departure he was all that you may suppose him to have been, from what you see now. Those locks, now whitened by a fiery sun, by arduous toil, by grief of heart, were then of a glossy chestnut; those lips, now habitually compressed, wore then a smile of uncommon sweetness, into which they can still occasionally relax; those thoughtful, mournful At this moment a pretty child ran into the room. eyes, then sparkled with hope; that well-propor-"Tell me, dear papa," she said, "is the great tioned figure, that wears an air of becoming dignity, 'Indian Nabob' really coming to see us?" had then an elasticity and freedom of motion at once graceful and exhilarating to behold. No young adventurer ever set out with a more sanguine spirit than did Edmund Neville; and now he returns with feelings of loneliness and depression even far beyond those usually entertained by the exiles of many years. He had quitted England an orphan, but not, therefore, without leaving fond hearts to mourn at his departure. Destitute of fortune-loving passionately the beautiful sister of a friend, by whom he was in turn beloved, and who was as portionless as himself-he turned with the ardor of youth, and of a sanguine and energetic temperament, to bright prospects which opened to him in the East, promising to return in a few, a very few

"I know not what to advise,” replied Mrs. Markham; "he cannot come here without being reminded of his youth; he must be aware of that, and yet, you see, he comes. If he must see Juliet, he may as well see the picture; it is one and the same thing."

"She is so exactly in age and person what my sister was when he parted from her," said Mr. Markham, thoughtfully and sadly-" so exactly what he may imagine her to have been when grieving over his absence. Poor Juliet! had he come a few months ago, when she was gay and happy, he would not have found a resemblance so distressing!"

"Does he ever mention his betrothed to you in his letters ?"

"Never. He is one of those who never speak or write on subjects on which they feel acutely, unless duty calls for the exertion."

By this name the wealthy merchant often went in his friend's family, and it conveyed very mysterious ideas of him to the younger members of it. He was half identified in their minds with the strange idols which once arrived in one of the boxes of rich Indian curiosities which had often found their way to the Grange. Little Marion, having procured an answer to her first question, had still an important one to propound.

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Papa," she said, “we all very well know how beautiful and good Juliet is, and that she deserves much more than any of us; but how did Mr. Neville guess this, that he should always mark all his prettiest gifts with her name?"

Her father patted her cheek, amused by her