one."

"What do you call it?" asked the Bishop.

"It might be properly called a mass-house," was the reply; "for it was
built for that purpose." The Bishop here told him he might go for the
present; he would take another opportunity to convince him of his errors.

The next person called was a Baptist minister, who, seeing that Roberts
refused to put off his hat, kept on his also. The Bishop sternly
reminded him that he stood before the King's Court, and the
representative of the majesty of England; and that, while some regard
might be had to the scruples of men who made a conscience of putting off
the hat, such contempt could not be tolerated on the part of one who
could put it off to every mechanic be met. The Baptist pulled off his
hat, and apologized, on the ground of illness.

We find Roberts next following George Fox on a visit to Bristol. On his
return, reaching his house late in the evening, he saw a man standing in
the moonlight at his door, and knew him to be a bailiff.

"Hast thou anything against me?" asked Roberts.

"No," said the bailiff, "I've wronged you enough, God forgive me! Those
who lie in wait for you are my Lord Bishop's bailiffs; they are merciless
rogues. Ever, my master, while you live, please a knave, for an honest
man won't hurt you."

The next morning, having, as he thought, been warned by a dream to do so,
he went to the Bishop's house at Cleave, near Gloucester. Confronting
the Bishop in his own hall, he told him that he had come to know why he
was hunting after him with his bailiffs, and why he was his adversary.
"The King is your adversary," said the Bishop; "you have broken the
King's law." Roberts ventured to deny the justice of the law. "What!"
cried the Bishop, "do such men as you find fault with the laws?" "Yes,"
replied the other, stoutly; "and I tell thee plainly to thy face, it is
high time wiser men were chosen, to make better laws."

The discourse turning upon the Book of Common Prayer, Roberts asked the
Bishop if the sin of idolatry did not consist in worshipping the work of
men's hands. The Bishop admitted it, as in the case of Nebuchadnezzar's
image.

"Then," said Roberts, "whose hands made your Prayer Book? It could not
make itself."

"Do you compare our Prayer Book to Nebuchadnezzar's image?" cried the
Bishop.

"Yes," returned Roberts, "that was his image; this is thine. I no more
dare bow to thy Common-Prayer Book than the Three Children to
Nebu