law upon which it was based. It charged him with assembling by force and arms, tumultuously and illegally, which was untrue; and he informed them of Lord Coke's definition of a rout or riot, or unlawful assembly. Here the Recorder interrupted him, and endeavored to cast ridicule on what he had said, by taking off his hat and saying, "I thank you for telling us what the law is." On Mead replying sharply to a taunting speech of Richard Brown, the old and inveterate enemy of Friends, the Mayor told him "he deserved to have his tongue cut out." He, too, was put into the bail-dock, and the Court proceeded to charge the jury. Whereupon William Penn cried out with a loud voice to the jury, to take notice, that it was illegal to charge the jury in the prisoners' absence, and without giving them opportunity to plead their cause. The Recorder ordered him to be put down. William Mead then remonstrating against such "barbarous and unjust proceedings," the Court ordered them both to be put into a filthy, stinking place, called "the hole." After an absence of an hour and a half, eight of the jury came down agreed, but four staid up and would not assent. The Court sent for the four, and menaced them for dissenting. When the jury was all together, the prisoners were brought to the bar, and the verdict demanded. The Foreman said William Penn was guilty of speaking in Grace-church Street. The Court endeavored to extort something more, but the Foreman declared he was not authorized to say anything but what he had given in. The Recorder, highly displeased, told them they might as well say nothing, and they were sent back. They soon returned with a written verdict, signed by all of them, that they found William Penn guilty of speaking or preaching in Grace-church Street, and William Mead not guilty. This so incensed the Court, that they told them they would have a verdict they would accept, and that "they should be locked up without meat, drink, fire, or tobacco: you shall not think thus to abuse the Court. We will have a verdict, by the help of God, or you shall starve for it." Against this outrageous infraction of justice and right, William Penn remonstrated, saying: "My jury, who are my judges, ought not to be thus menaced; their verdict should be free, and not compelled; the Bench ought to wait upon them, but not forestall them. I do desire that justice may be done me, and that the arbitrary resolves of the Bench may not be made the measure of my jury's verdict." The Recorder cried out, "Stop that prating fellow's mouth, or put him out of Court." Penn insisted that the agreement of the twelve men was a verdict, and that the Clerk of the Court should record it; and, addressing the jury, he said: "You are Englishmen; mind your privileges; give not away your right!" To which some of them replied, "Nor will we ever do it."

The jury were sent to their room, and the prisoners to jail, the former being deprived of food, drink, and every accommodation. The same verdict was returned the next morning; calling from the Bench upbraiding and threats, similar to those so lavishly bestowed on the jury before: the Recorder, in his passion, going so far as to say, "Till now, I never understood the reason of the policy and prudence of the Spaniards in suffering the Inquisition among them; and certainly, it will never be well with us till something like the Spanish Inquisition be in England." Again the jury was sent back to their room, and the prisoners returned to Newgate; both being so kept for another twenty-four hours; the jury without victuals, drink, or other accommodations. The next morning they were again brought into Court, and the usual question respecting their verdict being put, the Foreman first replied, "You have our written verdict already." The Recorder refusing to allow it to be read, the Clerk repeated the query, "How say you, is William Penn guilty or not guilty?" The Foreman answered: "Not guilty." The same verdict was given in the case of William Mead. The jury being separately questioned, they all made the same reply. The Recorder, exasperated at their decision and firmness, after pouring out his invectives upon them, said: "The Court fines you forty marks a man, and imprisonment till paid."

William Penn now demanded his liberty; but the Mayor said, "No, you are in for your fines." "Fines! for what?" replied Penn. "For contempt of Court," was the answer. Penn then declared that, according to the laws, no man could be fined without a trial by jury; but the Mayor ordered him and Mead first to the bail-dock, and then to the jail; where the jury was likewise consigned.

But this noble stand of the jury for law and right was not allowed to terminate in the punishment of these upright men, and the continued gratification of the revenge of the unjust Judges. After ineffectually demanding of the Court their release two or three times, a writ of habeas corpus was granted by Judge Vaughan; who, upon hearing the case, decided their fine and imprisonment illegal, and set them free.

The usage of the Courts had not before been reduced to a legal and positive form. It had been the occasional practice of the Bench to impose fines on "inconvenient juries," and had long remained practically an unsettled question, whether a jury had a right so far to exercise its own discretion as to bring in a verdict contrary to the sense of the Court. This important point was now decided; the Judges—there were others associated with Vaughan—adopting the views that it was the special function of the jury to judge of the evidence, and that the Bench, though at liberty to offer suggestions for the consideration of the jurymen, might not lawfully coerce them.

William Penn, anxious to have the cases of himself and his friend reviewed by a Superior Court, wrote to his father, affectionately desiring him not to interfere to have him released. But the old man, who was fast declining, and anxious to have the company and attentions of his son, to whom he was not only reconciled, but on whose filial affection and care he had learned to lean for comfort and support, was not willing to wait the tardy process of law; and therefore paid the fines of both the Friends, and had them set free. The Admiral survived but a few days the liberation of his son; in which time he sent one of his friends to the King and Duke of York, to make his dying request, that, so far as they could, they would hereafter befriend his loved son; which both promised to do. Addressing his son shortly before his death, he said: "Son William, if you and your friends keep to your plain way of preaching, and your plain way of living, you will make an end of the priests to the end of the world." Again—sensible, it is probable, of the wrong he had before committed in his course towards his son—he said, emphatically: "Let nothing in the world tempt you to wrong your conscience. I charge you, do nothing against your conscience; so you will keep peace at home, which will be a feast to you in the day of trouble."

Near the close of this year, William Penn was again arrested at Wheeler Street meeting, by some of the officers of Robinson, Lieutenant of the Tower, who had sent them there for the purpose, and he was taken before him. His examination, as published, shows his Christian courage and firmness, as he exposed the duplicity of Robinson in his profession of friendship for him; and asserted his innocence of the charges made against him. He was sent to Newgate for six months; during which time he drew up an account of the memorable trial at the Old Bailey; also several dissertations which were afterwards published as tracts: one of these was, "The great Case of Liberty of Conscience, once more briefly Debated, and Defended by authority of Scripture, Reason, and Antiquity."

Soon after his release he married Gulielma Maria