The Ancient Banner | Page 4

the light of Truth,?Dwelt not at ease in Zion. They endured?Conflicts and trials, and imprisonments.?Even the humble Penington, whose mind?Seemed purged and purified from all the dross?Of human nature--who appeared as meek?And harmless as an infant--was compelled?To dwell in loathsome prisons. But he had,?Though in the midst of wickedness, sublime?And holy visions of the purity,?And the true nature of Christ's living Church.?While Edmundson, the faithful pioneer?Of Truth in Ireland, was compelled to drink?Deeply of suffering for the blessed cause.?Dragged from his home, half naked, by a mob?Who laid that home in ashes, he endured?Heart-rending cruelties. But all of these,?Stars of the morning, felt oppression's hand,?And some endured it to the closing scene.?Burroughs, a noble servant of the Lord,?Whose lips and pen were eloquent for Truth,?Drew his last breath in prison. Parnel, too,?A young and valiant soldier of the Lamb,?Died, a true martyr in a dungeon's gloom.?Howgill and Hubberthorn, both ministers?Of Christ's ordaining, were released from all?Their earthly trials within prison walls.?And beside these, there was a multitude?Of faithful men, and noble women too,?Who past from scenes of conflict, to the joys?Of the Redeemer's kingdom, within jails,?And some in dungeons. But amid it all,?Light spread in Britain, and a living Church?Was greatly multiplied. The tender minds,?Even of children, felt the power of Truth,?And showed the fruit and firmness it affords.?When persecution, rioted within?The town of Bristol, and all older Friends?Were locked in prison, little children met,?Within their place of worship, by themselves,?To offer praises, in the very place?From which their parents had been dragged to jail.?But let us turn from Britain, and look down,?Upon an inland sea whose swelling waves?Encircle Malta. There a cloudless sun,?In Eastern beauty, pours its light upon?The Inquisition. All without its walls?Seems calm and peaceful, let us look within.?There, stretched upon the floor, within a close,?Dark, narrow cell, inhaling from a crack?A breath of purer air, two women lie.?But who are these, and wherefore are they here??These are two ministers of Christ, who left?Their homes in England, faithfully to bear,?The Saviour's message into eastern lands.?And here at Malta they were seized upon?By bigotted intolerance, and shut?Within this fearful engine of the Pope.?Priests and Inquisitor assail them here,?And urge the claims of popery. The rack,?And cruel deaths are threatened; and again?Sweet liberty is offered, as the price?Of their apostacy. All, all in vain!?For years these tender women have been thus,?Victims of cruelty. At times apart,?Confined in gloomy, solitary cells.?But all these efforts to convert them failed:?The Inquisition had not power enough?To shake their faith and confidence in Him,?Whose holy presence was seen anciently?To save his children from devouring flames;?He, from this furnace of affliction, brought?These persecuted women, who came forth?Out of the burning, with no smell of fire?Upon their garments, and again they trod,?Their native land rejoicing.?In Hungary, two ministers of Christ,?Were stretched upon the rack. Their tortured limbs?Were almost torn asunder, but no force?Could tear them from their Master, and they came?Out of the furnace, well refined gold.?Nor were these all who suffered for the cause?Of truth and righteousness, in foreign lands.?For at Mequinez and Algiers, some toiled,?And died in slavery. But nothing could?Discourage faithful messengers of Christ?From his required service. They were found?Preaching repentance where the Israelites?Once toiled in Egypt, and the ancient Nile?Still rolls its waters. And the holy light?Of the eternal Gospel was proclaimed,?Where its great Author had first published it--?Where the rich temple of King Solomon,?Stood in its ancient glory. Even there,?The haughty Musselmen, were told of Him,?The one great Prophet, who now speaks within.?For their refusing to participate?In carnal warfare, many early Friends,?Were made to suffer. On a ship of war?Equipped for battle, Richard Sellers bore,?With a meek, Christian spirit, cruelties?The most atrocious, for obeying Him?Who was his heavenly Captain, and by whom,?War is forbidden. Sellers would not touch,?The instruments of carnage, nor could all?The cruelties inflicted, move his soul?From a reliance on that holy Arm,?Which had sustained him in the midst of all?His complicated trials; and he gained?A peaceful, but a greater victory?Than that of battle, for he wearied out?Oppression, by his constancy, and left?A holy savor, with that vessel's crew.?But let us turn from persecuting scenes,?That stain the annals of the older world,?To young America, whose virgin shores?Offer a refuge from oppression's power.?Here lies a harbour in the noble bay?Of Massachusetts. Many little isles?Dot its expanding waters, and Nahant?Spreads its long beach and eminence beyond,?A barrier to the ocean. The whole scene,?Looks beautiful, in the clear northern air,?And loveliness of morning. On the heights?That overlook the harbour, there is seen?An infant settlement. Let us approach,?And anchor where the Puritans have sought,?For liberty of conscience. But there seems,?Disquietude in Boston. Men appear?Urged on by stormy passions, and some wear?A look of unrelenting bitterness.?But what is that now rising into view,?Where crowds are gathered on an eminence??These are the Puritans. They now