A Concise Biographical Sketch of William Penn

In replying to Dr. John Collenges, some years after the publication of "The Sandy Foundation Shaken," who had at that time brought forward exceptions to its doctrines, William Perm again explicitly asserts his full belief in the proper divinity of, and atonement made by, Christ: and in the doctrine of justification as held by Friends at that time and ever since. "I do heartily believe that Jesus Christ is the only true and everlasting God, by whom all things were made that are made, in the heavens above or the earth beneath, or the waters under the earth: that He is as omnipotent, so omniscient and omnipresent, therefore God." And in regard to the atonement and justification, he thus writes, "He that would not have me mistaken, on purpose to render his charge against me just, whether it be so or no, may see in my apology for 'The Sandy Foundation Shaken,' that I otherwise meant than I am charactered. In short, I say, both as to this and the other point of justification, that Jesus Christ was a sacrifice for sin; that He was set forth to be a propitiation for the sins of the whole world; to declare God's righteousness, for the remission of sins that are passed, etc.; to all that repented and had faith in His Son. Therein the love of God appeared, that He declared His good-will thereby to be reconciled; Christ bearing away the sins that are passed, as the scape-goat did of old; not excluding inward work; for till that is begun, none can be benefitted; though it is not the work, but God's free love, that remits and blots out; of which the death of Christ and His sacrificing himself was a most certain declaration and confirmation. In short, that declared remission to all who believe and obey, for the sins that are past; which is the first part of Christ's work (as it is a king's to pardon a traitor before he advanceth him), and hitherto the acquittance imputes a righteousness – inasmuch as men, on true repentance, are imputed as clean of guilt as if they had never sinned – and thus far are justified; but the completion of this by the working out of sin inherent, must be by the Power and Spirit of Christ in the heart, destroying the old man and his deeds, and bringing in the new and everlasting righteousness. So that which I wrote against, is such doctrine as extended Christ's death and obedience, not to the first, but to the second part of justification; not the pacifying of conscience as to past sin; but to complete salvation without cleansing and purging from all filthiness of flesh and spirit, by the internal operation of his holy power and Spirit."

Notwithstanding William Penn is thus clear and explicit in correcting the misunderstanding of his Christian faith, to which some of his expressions in "The Sandy Foundation Shaken" had given rise, and in his full avowal of his belief in the Deity of Christ, and the atonement made by Him for the sins of mankind; as also in the doctrine of justification by faith in Him; yet those who are anxious to represent Friends as Socinians, or as denying the atonement of Christ, are still so unjust to his unequivocal and widely-published opinions on these points, and so ungenerous to his character and memory, as well as untruthful in their representation of Friends, as to claim him as authority for their disbelief in these fundamental doctrines.

Though he had addressed a communication to Lord Arlington, Secretary of State, on whose warrant he was committed to the Tower, in which he denied the charges brought against him, so far as he had been able to ascertain them; declaring they were the result of ignorance and malice, and requesting that he might have an audience with the King, in order to hear the accusation of his enemies, and have an opportunity to defend himself; or if he could not have access to the King, then to be brought, with his accusers, face to face before him, the Secretary of State, it was disregarded, nor was the rigor of his confinement abated. "Innocency with her Open Face" had, however, produced a change of public feeling towards him; and his father, who could not but respect the consistent firmness and Christian endurance of his son, and who had himself been passing through a severe ordeal from the machinations of his enemies in the House of Commons, visited him in his dungeon, and began to use the influence he continued to hold with the Duke of York and the King, on his behalf. Whether at his instance or not is not known, but Arlington, though declining to give audience to William Penn himself, sent the King's Chaplain, Stillingfleet, to have an interview with him, and ascertain what concessions he would be willing to make to the offended hierarchy. Their conversation appears to have been conducted in a friendly spirit and manner: the Chaplain holding up the brilliant future that would be realized by Penn if he would recant some of his opinions, and dwelling on the favorable disposition of the Duke of York and King towards him. William told him, "The Tower is the worst argument in the world," and that nothing could induce him to violate his conscientious convictions, so there seemed nothing gained. But suddenly and unexpectedly an order came from the King for his release, and he left the gloomy confines of his prison-house without making any concession or accepting a pardon. The discharge was believed to have been the work of the Duke of York, and William ever cherished a grateful feeling towards him for this generous act.

In the year 1670, Friends in England underwent great persecution and suffering on account of their religious principles. The law against Dissenters, that had just expired, had failed in its object, and it was therefore determined to try another method, which enlisted the cupidity of the depraved class as informers, and used the almost unrestrained functions of officials clothed with absolute power to impoverish and harass those who met together for Divine worship in a way differing from the "Church of England," in the hope of rendering such unable to live in their native country. Accordingly a third "Act to prevent and suppress seditious conventicles" was passed by Parliament, and received the royal assent in the Fourth month, 1670.

Persecution now ran riot; and the power being by design placed in the hands of the most profligate and debased, rapine, havoc, and impoverishment were spread over the nation by the graceless informers, abetted by a venal magistracy, eager to share in the plunder.

But the storm, biting and incessant as it was, was no more effective in deterring Friends from assembling for the purpose of worshipping their Almighty Father in Heaven, than that which had been raised under the former "Conventicle Act." Grievously spoiled and cruelly abused as they were, they knew their enemies could truthfully allege nothing against them but that which concerned the law of their God; and in the sincerity of their hearts they made their appeal unto Him, with full confidence that He would extend his fatherly, protecting care over them; would cause the wrath of man to bring Him praise, and when He saw it was enough, would restrain the remainder of wrath, and limit the rage and cruelty of their merciless tormentors. Deprived of the use of their meeting-houses, they assembled as near to them as they could get; and beaten, bruised, imprisoned, and fined, as many of each company were almost sure to be, the next meeting-day found others at the same place, engaged in the performance of the same indispensable duty; ready to encounter, with meekness and patience, the wrath of their persecutors, and to suffer for the maintenance of their rights as men and their obligation as Christians.

Their treatment in London, bad as it was, was thought to be less severe than in many other parts of the Kingdom. Yet in that city, it was a common occurrence for those who attended their meetings for worship, to be beaten with the muskets of the foot-soldiers, and the sabres of the dragoons, until the blood ran down upon the ground; women, sometimes young maidens, were maltreated in the most shameful manner.

On the fourteenth of the Eighth month, 1670, William Penn and William Mead were taken from the meeting held in the street, as near to Grace-church meeting-house as they could get; the former being engaged in ministry at the time. They were brought to trial on the first of the Ninth month, before the Mayor, Samuel Starling; the Recorder, John Howell; several Aldermen, and the Sheriffs. William Mead had formerly been a captain in the Commonwealth's army, but having embraced the truths of the Gospel as held by Friends, he of course gave up all connection with military life, and is mentioned in the indictment as a linen-draper, in London; though it is probable he resided most of his time in Essex, where he had a considerable landed estate. He afterwards married a daughter of Margaret Fell.

The indictment charged that they, with other persons, to the number of three hundred, with force and arms, unlawfully and tumultuously assembled together, on the fifteenth day of August, 1670, and the said William Penn, by agreement made beforehand with William Mead, preached and spoke to the assembly; by reason whereof, a great concourse and tumult of people continued a long time in the street, in contempt of the King and his law, to the great disturbance of his peace, and to the terror of many of his liege people and subjects.

The character of the trial might be judged by the first incident that occurred. Being brought before the Court on the third of the Ninth month, an officer took off their hats on their entrance; whereupon the Mayor angrily ordered him to put them on again; which being done, the Recorder fined them forty marks apiece, for alleged contempt of Court, by appearing before it with their hats on. This trial has become celebrated, not only on account of the ability with which William Penn – then in his twenty-sixth year – defended his cause, and sustained the inalienable rights of Englishmen, but for the inflexible firmness of the jury in maintaining their own rights, and adhering to their conscientious convictions; notwithstanding the iniquitous determination of the Court, to enforce its own will, to convict and punish the prisoners at the bar, and to oblige the jury to become their tools for that purpose.

The indictment was incorrect, even in the statement of the time when the offence was said to have taken place; as it was on the fourteenth of the month, and not on the fifteenth, and therefore it ought to have been quashed by the Court, and the prisoners discharged. The evidence of the three witnesses examined was altogether inconclusive, but William Penn boldly said to the Court, "We confess ourselves to be so far from recanting or declining to vindicate the assembling of ourselves, to preach, pray, or worship the eternal, holy, just God, that we declare to all the world, that we do believe it to be our indispensable duty to meet incessantly on so good an account; nor shall all the powers upon earth be able to divert us from reverencing and adoring the God who made us." He then asked the Court to tell him upon what law the indictment and proceedings were founded. The Recorder answering, the common law, Penn requested him to tell him what law that was; for if it was common, it must be easy to define it. But the Recorder refused to tell him, saying it was lex non scripta, and it was not to be expected that he could say at once what it was, for some had been thirty or forty years studying it. Penn observed that Lord Coke had declared that common law was common right, and common right the great chartered privileges confirmed by former Kings. The Recorder, greatly excited, told him he was a troublesome fellow, and it was not to the honor of the Court to suffer him to go on; but Penn calmly insisted that the Court was bound to explain to the prisoners at their bar the law they had violated, and upon which they were being tried; and he told them plainly that, unless they did so, they were violating the chartered rights of Englishmen, and acting upon an arbitrary determination to sacrifice those rights to their own illegal designs. Whereupon the Mayor and Recorder ordered him to be turned into the bail-dock. William Penn, – "These are but so many vain exclamations; is this justice or true judgment? Must I, therefore, be taken away because I plead for the fundamental laws of England?" Then, addressing himself to the jury, he said: "However, this I leave upon your consciences who are of the jury, and my sole judges, that if these ancient fundamental laws which relate to liberty and property, and are not limited to particular persuasions in matters of religion, must not be indispensably maintained and observed, who can say he hath a right to the coat upon his back. Certainly our liberties are openly to be invaded, our children enslaved, our families ruined, and our estates led away in triumph, by every sturdy beggar and malicious informer, as their trophies, but our pretended forfeits for conscience' sake. The Lord of heaven and earth will be judge between us in this matter." The hearing of this emphatic speech was so troublesome to the Recorder, that he cried, "Be silent there!" At which William Penn returned, "I am not to be silent in a cause wherein I am so much concerned, and not only myself, but many ten thousand families besides."

Penn being thrust into the bail-dock, William Mead was called up, and was asked if he was present at the meeting. Which question he refused to answer, on the ground that he could not be required to accuse himself. He then told the jury that the indictment was false in many particulars, and that William Penn was right in demanding the law upon which it was based. It charged him with assembling by force and arms, tumultuously and illegally, which was untrue; and he informed them of Lord Coke's definition of a rout or riot, or unlawful assembly. Here the Recorder interrupted him, and endeavored to cast ridicule on what he had said, by taking off his hat and saying, "I thank you for telling us what the law is." On Mead replying sharply to a taunting speech of Richard Brown, the old and inveterate enemy of Friends, the Mayor told him "he deserved to have his tongue cut out." He, too, was put into the bail-dock, and the Court proceeded to charge the jury. Whereupon William Penn cried out with a loud voice to the jury, to take notice, that it was illegal to charge the jury in the prisoners' absence, and without giving them opportunity to plead their cause. The Recorder ordered him to be put down. William Mead then remonstrating against such "barbarous and unjust proceedings," the Court ordered them both to be put into a filthy, stinking place, called "the hole." After an absence of an hour and a half, eight of the jury came down agreed, but four staid up and would not assent. The Court sent for the four, and menaced them for dissenting. When the jury was all together, the prisoners were brought to the bar, and the verdict demanded. The Foreman said William Penn was guilty of speaking in Grace-church Street. The Court endeavored to extort something more, but the Foreman declared he was not authorized to say anything but what he had given in. The Recorder, highly displeased, told them they might as well say nothing, and they were sent back. They soon returned with a written verdict, signed by all of them, that they found William Penn guilty of speaking or preaching in Grace-church Street, and William Mead not guilty. This so incensed the Court, that they told them they would have a verdict they would accept, and that "they should be locked up without meat, drink, fire, or tobacco: you shall not think thus to abuse the Court. We will have a verdict, by the help of God, or you shall starve for it." Against this outrageous infraction of justice and right, William Penn remonstrated, saying: "My jury, who are my judges, ought not to be thus menaced; their verdict should be free, and not compelled; the Bench ought to wait upon them, but not forestall them. I do desire that justice may be done me, and that the arbitrary resolves of the Bench may not be made the measure of my jury's verdict." The Recorder cried out, "Stop that prating fellow's mouth, or put him out of Court." Penn insisted that the agreement of the twelve men was a verdict, and that the Clerk of the Court should record it; and, addressing the jury, he said: "You are Englishmen; mind your privileges; give not away your right!" To which some of them replied, "Nor will we ever do it."

The jury were sent to their room, and the prisoners to jail, the former being deprived of food, drink, and every accommodation. The same verdict was returned the next morning; calling from the Bench upbraiding and threats, similar to those so lavishly bestowed on the jury before: the Recorder, in his passion, going so far as to say, "Till now, I never understood the reason of the policy and prudence of the Spaniards in suffering the Inquisition among them; and certainly, it will never be well with us till something like the Spanish Inquisition be in England." Again the jury was sent back to their room, and the prisoners returned to Newgate; both being so kept for another twenty-four hours; the jury without victuals, drink, or other accommodations. The next morning they were again brought into Court, and the usual question respecting their verdict being put, the Foreman first replied, "You have our written verdict already." The Recorder refusing to allow it to be read, the Clerk repeated the query, "How say you, is William Penn guilty or not guilty?" The Foreman answered: "Not guilty." The same verdict was given in the case of William Mead. The jury being separately questioned, they all made the same reply. The Recorder, exasperated at their decision and firmness, after pouring out his invectives upon them, said: "The Court fines you forty marks a man, and imprisonment till paid."

William Penn now demanded his liberty; but the Mayor said, "No, you are in for your fines." "Fines! for what?" replied Penn. "For contempt of Court," was the answer. Penn then declared that, according to the laws, no man could be fined without a trial by jury; but the Mayor ordered him and Mead first to the bail-dock, and then to the jail; where the jury was likewise consigned.

But this noble stand of the jury for law and right was not allowed to terminate in the punishment of these upright men, and the continued gratification of the revenge of the unjust Judges. After ineffectually demanding of the Court their release two or three times, a writ of habeas corpus was granted by Judge Vaughan; who, upon hearing the case, decided their fine and imprisonment illegal, and set them free.

The usage of the Courts had not before been reduced to a legal and positive form. It had been the occasional practice of the Bench to impose fines on "inconvenient juries," and had long remained practically an unsettled question, whether a jury had a right so far to exercise its own discretion as to bring in a verdict contrary to the sense of the Court. This important point was now decided; the Judges – there were others associated with Vaughan – adopting the views that it was the special function of the jury to judge of the evidence, and that the Bench, though at liberty to offer suggestions for the consideration of the jurymen, might not lawfully coerce them.

William Penn, anxious to have the cases of himself and his friend reviewed by a Superior Court, wrote to his father, affectionately desiring him not to interfere to have him released. But the old man, who was fast declining, and anxious to have the company and attentions of his son, to whom he was not only reconciled, but on whose filial affection and care he had learned to lean for comfort and support, was not willing to wait the tardy process of law; and therefore paid the fines of both the Friends, and had them set free. The Admiral survived but a few days the liberation of his son; in which time he sent one of his friends to the King and Duke of York, to make his dying request, that, so far as they could, they would hereafter befriend his loved son; which both promised to do. Addressing his son shortly before his death, he said: "Son William, if you and your friends keep to your plain way of preaching, and your plain way of living, you will make an end of the priests to the end of the world." Again – sensible, it is probable, of the wrong he had before committed in his course towards his son – he said, emphatically: "Let nothing in the world tempt you to wrong your conscience. I charge you, do nothing against your conscience; so you will keep peace at home, which will be a feast to you in the day of trouble."

Near the close of this year, William Penn was again arrested at Wheeler Street meeting, by some of the officers of Robinson, Lieutenant of the Tower, who had sent them there for the purpose, and he was taken before him. His examination, as published, shows his Christian courage and firmness, as he exposed the duplicity of Robinson in his profession of friendship for him; and asserted his innocence of the charges made against him. He was sent to Newgate for six months; during which time he drew up an account of the memorable trial at the Old Bailey; also several dissertations which were afterwards published as tracts: one of these was, "The great Case of Liberty of Conscience, once more briefly Debated, and Defended by authority of Scripture, Reason, and Antiquity."

Soon after his release he married Gulielma Maria Springett, daughter of Sir William Springett. She was a pious young woman, of well-educated and amiable manners. After his marriage he settled in Hertfordshire.

In 1677 George Fox, William Penn, Robert Barclay, and some other Friends, went over to Holland on a religious visit, and travelled into Germany. In the course of this journey, William Penn and two other Friends visited Elizabeth, Princess Palatine of the Rhine, at her Court at Herwerden. She was the oldest daughter of Frederick V., Elector Palatine, and at one time King of Bohemia; her mother being the sister of Charles I. of England. She is represented to have been a woman of good natural capacity, well educated, and of amiable disposition and manners; and to have governed her small territory with good judgment and much consideration for the welfare of her subjects. Having been brought under the power of religion, she manifested strong interest in others who were sincere in their religious convictions, and was opposed to interference with liberty of conscience. Having become acquainted with the religious tenets of Friends, by conversation with Robert Barclay and Benjamin Furly, who visited her in 1676, and with women Friends from Amsterdam, she found them to answer to the convictions of Truth on her own mind; and she not only gladly received Friends when they came to see her, but in her letters to several of the more prominent members among them, and to others at the English Court, she unhesitatingly expressed her high estimation of them, and her disapproval of the persecution to which those that held them were subjected.

The Friends named, having requested permission to have a religious opportunity with her, it was readily granted; she having in her family at that time the Countess of Hornes, her intimate friend, and a French lady. Of this interview William Penn thus writes in his journal: "I can truly say it, and that in God's fear, I was very deeply and reverently affected with the sense that was upon my spirit of the great and notable day of the Lord, and the breaking in of his eternal power upon all nations; and of the raising of the slain Witness to judge the world; who is the Treasury of life and peace, of wisdom and glory, to all that receive Him in the hour of his judgments, and abide with Him. The sense of this deep and sure foundation, which God is laying as the hope of eternal life and glory for all to build upon, filled my soul with an holy testimony to them, which in a living sense was followed by my brethren; and so the meeting ended about the eleventh hour."

In the afternoon they held another meeting with them, which was also so remarkably favored, that William Penn says: "Well, let my right hand forget its cunning, and my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, when I shall forget the loving-kindness of the Lord, and the sure mercies of our God to us, his travailing servants, that day."

Subsequently, on their return towards Holland, these Friends again stopped at Herwerden, and upon informing the Princess of their arrival, they were again gladly received by her and her friends. A meeting being held with them and some others whom they had invited, the next morning, William Penn states in his journal: "About eight the meeting began, and held till eleven, several persons of the city, as well as those of her own family, being present. The Lord's power very much affected them, and the Countess was twice much broken while we spoke. After the people were gone out of the chamber, it lay upon me from the Lord to speak to them two – the Princess and the Countess – with respect to their particular conditions; occasioned by these words from the Princess, 'I am fully convinced; but oh! my sins are great.' While I was speaking, the glorious power of the Lord wonderfully rose, yea, after an awful manner, and had a deep entrance upon their spirits; especially the Countess, so that she was broken to pieces: God hath raised, and I hope fixed, his own testimony in them."