ed to worship with his
family. Directly the sermon was finished, all the people in the church
pointed at the Stranger, and called him to come up to the priest. Fox
rose, as his custom was, and began to 'declare the word of life.' He
went on to say that he thought the priest who had been preaching had
been deceiving his hearers in some parts of his sermon. Naturally the
priest who had spoken did not like this, and although some of the
congregation agreed with Fox, and felt that 'they could have listened
to him for ever,' most of the people hated the Stranger for his words.
They rushed at Fox, punching and beating him; then, crying, 'Let us
have him in the stocks!' they thrust him out of the door of the
church. Once in the cool fresh air, however, the crowd became less
violent. Their mood changed. Instead of hustling their unresisting
visitor through the town and clapping him into the stocks, they loosed
their hold of him and suffered him to go quietly away.

As he departed, George Fox came upon another group of people assembled
at a little distance. These were the men and women who had listened to
him gladly in church, who now wished to hear more of the new truths he
had been declaring. Among them was James Nayler, a man older than
Fox, who had been convinced by him a year earlier. This second visit,
however, clinched Nayler's allegiance to his new friend. Possibly,
having been a soldier himself, he began by admiring Fox's courage.
Here was a man who refused to strike a single blow in self-defence. He
was apparently quite ready to let the angry mob do what they would,
and yet in the end he managed to quell their rage by the force of his
own spiritual power. The Journal simply says that a great many people
were convinced that day of the truth of the Quaker preaching, and that
'they were directed to the Lord's teaching _in themselves_.'

Hereupon the priest of the church became very angry. He spread abroad
many untrue stories about Fox, saying that he 'carried bottles with
him, and made people drink of them and so made them follow him and
become Quakers.'

At Wakefield, also, in those days, as well as farther North,
'enchantment' was the first and simplest explanation of anything
unusual. This same priest also said that Fox rode upon a great black
horse, and was seen riding upon it in one county at a certain time,
and was also seen on the same horse and at the very same time in
another county sixty miles away.

'With