t were, then as now, the glory of Sedbergh Church. The tall green
grass of the churchyard was already trampled down by the feet of
hundreds of spell-bound listeners.

Who was this unexpected Stranger who dared to interrupt even the noisy
business of the Fair with the earnestness and insistence of his
appeal? He was a young and handsome man, with regular features and
hair that hung in short curls under his hat-brim, contrary to the
Puritan fashion; big-boned in body, and of a commanding presence. The
boys of the grammar school, determined to make the most of their
holiday, thought it good sport at first to mock at the Stranger's
garb. As he stood there, lifted up above them on the rough bench, they
could see every detail of the queer leather breeches that he wore
underneath his long coat. His girdle with its alchemy buttons showed
off grandly too, while the fine linen bands he wore at his neck
gleamed out with dazzling whiteness against the dark branches of
Sedbergh's majestic old yew-tree.

The preacher's words and tones and his piercing eyes quickly overawed
his audience, and made them forget his outlandish appearance. Even the
boys could understand what he was saying, for he seemed to be speaking
to each one of them, as much as to any of the grown-up people. And
what was this he was telling them? With outstretched hand he pointed
upwards, insisting that that church, the beautiful building, the pride
of Sedbergh, was not a church at all. It was only a steeple-house;
they themselves were the true church, their own souls and bodies were
the temples chosen by the Spirit of God for His habitation. No wonder
the schoolboys, and many older people too, became awed and silent at
the bare idea of such a Guest. None of the eight-and-forty sects of
Sedbergh town had ever heard doctrine like this before. Possibly there
might not have been eight-and-forty of them if they had.

Once during the discourse a Captain got up and interrupted the
Stranger: 'Why do you preach out here under the yew-tree? Why do you
not go inside the church and preach there?'

'But,' says George Fox, 'I said unto him that I denied their church.

'Then stood up Francis Howgill, a separate preacher, that had not seen
me before, and so he began to dispute with the Captain, but he held
his peace. Then said Francis Howgill, "This man speaks with
authority, and not as the Scribes."

'And so,' continues George Fox, 'I opened to the people that that
ground an