petual motion, begetting
souls unto God.'

Many hallowed memories cling about Drawwell Farm,--as closely as the
silvery mist clings to every nook and cranny of its walls in damp
weather,--but none more vivid than that of the Undisturbed Meeting of
1665.

George Fox was not present that day. His open-air wanderings, and his
visits to the home under the great fells were alike at an end for a
time, while in the narrow prison cells of Lancaster and Scarborough he
was bearing witness, after a different fashion, to the freedom of the
Spirit of the Lord. George Fox was not among the guests at Drawwell.
No 'mighty Meeting,' as often at other times, was gathered there that
day. There was only a company of humble men and women seated on forms
and chairs under the black oak rafters of the big barn that adjoins
the house, since the living-room was not spacious enough to hold them
all with ease, although their numbers were not much above a score.

The Master and Mistress of Drawwell were present of course. Good
Farmer Blaykling, with his ever ready courtesy and kindness, looked
older now than on the day, thirteen years before, when he and his
father had brought the young preacher back with them from the Fair. He
himself had known latterly what it was to suffer 'for Truth's sake,'
as some extra furrows on his brow had testified plainly since the day
when 'Priest John Burton of Sedbergh beat John Blaykling and pulled
him by the hair off his seat in his high place.' Happily that outbreak
had passed over, and all seemed quiet this Sunday morning, as he took
his place in the big barn. His wife sat by his side; around them were
their children (none of them young), the farm lads and lasses, and
several families of neighbouring Friends. But it chanced that the
youngest person present, one of the farm lasses, was well into her
teens.

'Surely it was the loving-kindness of the Lord' (motherly Mistress
Blaykling was wont to testify in after years) 'that brought the ordeal
only upon us, grown men and women, and not upon any tender babes.' The
Meeting began, much like any other Meeting in that peaceful country,
where Friends ever loved to gather under the shadow of the hills and
the yet mightier overshadowing of the Spirit of God. The Dove of Peace
brooded over the company. Even as the unseen water bubbled in the dark
depths of the old draw-well close by, so, in the deep stillness,
already some hearts were becoming conscious of--

'Th