d, is courage. This courage is conspicuous both in
life and in the hour of death. That, which belongs to the former
instance, I shall consider first.

If courage in life were confined solely to military exploits, the
Quakers would have no pretensions to this character. But courage
consists of presence of mind in many situations of peril different from
those in war. It consists often in refusing to do that which is wrong,
in spite of popular opinion. Hence the man, who refuses a challenge, and
whom men of honour would brand with cowardice on that account, may have
more real courage in so doing, and would have it in the estimation of
moral men, than the person who sends it. It may consist also in an
inflexible perseverance in doing that which is right, when persecution
is to follow. Such was the courage of martyrdom. As courage then may
consist in qualities different from that of heroism, we shall see what
kind of courage it is that has been assigned to the Quakers, and how far
they may be expected to be entitled to such a trait.

There is no question, in the first place, that Quakers have great
presence of mind on difficult and trying occasions. To frighten or to
put them off their guard would be no easy task. Few people have ever
seen an innocent Quaker disconcerted or abashed.

They have the courage also to dare to say, at all times and in all
places, what they believe to be right.

I might appeal for the truth of this, as far as the early Quakers are
concerned, to the different conversations which George Fox had with
Oliver Cromwell, or to the different letters which be wrote to him as
protector, or to those which he afterwards wrote to king Charles the
second.

I might appeal again to the address of Edward Burroughs to the same
monarch.

I might appeal again to the bold but respectful language, which the
early Quakers used to the magistrates, when they were carried before
them, and to the intrepid and dignified manner in which they spoke to
their judges, in the coarse of the numerous trials to which they were
brought in those early times.

I might appeal also to Barclay's address to the king, which stands at
the head of his Apology.

"As it is inconsistent, says Barclay to king Charles the second, with
the truth I bear, so it is far from me to use this letter as an engine
to flatter thee, the usual design of such works, and therefore I can
neither dedicate it to thee, nor crave thy patronage, as if thereby