Williams for help; they prayed that he would once more go to England for them, and permanently settle all the points which caused this agitation. With a wife and a large family to support, and the recollection of former losses, he was at first naturally unwilling to undertake this mission; but when fresh and more earnest representations were made to him, he yielded. The colonists were too poor to pay his expenses, so he sold his trading-house, and once more sailed for England. Under the auspices of Sir Henry Vane, he was again triumphant. It needed time, however, to obtain all that was required, and for a poor man time is a very expensive luxury. In order, therefore, to support his wife and family at home, he obtained employment in London as a teacher of languages. During his sojourn he received a letter from the General Assembly of Providence, thanking him for his care and diligence, and expressing the opinion "that it might tend much to the weighing of men's minds, and subjecting of persons who have been refractory to yield themselves over as unto a settled government, if it might be the pleasure of the honorable state to invest, appoint, and empower himself to come over as governor of the colony for the space of one year." A request like this was so diametrically opposed to his principles, that Williams merely put the letter in his pocket. That was the last heard of it. In the summer of 1654 he returned to Providence, and was dismayed to find the colony still in a distracted state, and its people quarreling and fighting among themselves. A meeting of the town was soon after held, and subsequently of the commissioners of all the towns, which resulted in the reorganizing of the colony, and the adoption of measures for its future prosperity and happiness. At the first general election Roger Williams was chosen president of the colony. His administration lasted two years, and was marked by great liberality of sentiment and firmness of character. In such a strangely-mixed community, it was not remarkable that some vexatious spirits should try to abuse the freedom which they enjoyed, and convert it into an irresponsible license. They were soon aroused to a perception of what liberty of conscience meant. In a quaint letter, Roger Williams gave them an insight into the kind of authority that might be exercised over them. "There goes many a ship to sea," he wrote, "with many hundred souls in one ship, whose weal and woe is common, and is a true picture of a commonwealth, or a human combination or society. It hath fall en out, sometimes, that both Papists and Protestants, Jews and Turks, may be embarked in one ship; upon which supposal, I affirm that all the liberty of conscience that ever I pleaded for turns upon these two hinges: that none of the Papists, Protestants, Jews, or Turks be forced to come to the ship's prayers or worship, or compelled from their own particular prayers or worship, if they practice any. I further add, that I never denied that, notwithstanding this liberty, the commander of this ship ought to command the ship's course, yea, and also command that justice, peace, and sobriety may be kept and practiced, both among the seamen and all the passengers. If any of the seamen refuse to perform their service, or passengers to pay their freight; if any refuse to help, in person or purse, toward the common charges or defense; if any refuse to obey the common laws and orders of the ship concerning their common peace and preservation; if any shall mutiny and rise up against their commanders and officers; if any shall preach or write that there ought to be no commanders or officers, because all are equal in Christ, therefore no masters and officers, no laws nor orders, no corrections nor punishments-I say I never denied but in such cases, whatever is pretended, the commander or commanders may judge, resist, compel, and punish such transgressors, according to their deserts and merits. This, if seriously and honestly minded, may, if it so please the Father of Lights, let in some light to such as willingly shut not their eyes." In spite of this plain definition of what the authorities might do, a hot dispute arose between Roger Williams and an extremist of the name of Harris, who maintained that, according to his conscience, he "ought not to yield subjection to any human order among men." This strange being was afterward prosecuted, but with no result, the case being sent to England for adjudication. In the controversy which ensued, it is to be regretted that both Williams and Harris lost their tempers. That liberty of conscience was amply maintained, in the best sense of the word, was proved by the fact that the persecuted Quakers found a refuge in the colony, where they were amply protected, in spite of the remonstrances and threats of Massachusetts. In May, 1658, Roger Williams retired from the office of president, with no desire to return to it. He was, however, frequently honored by civil appointments of trust and weight when great honesty and probity were needed; and in the new charter grant ed by Charles the Second in 1663, was appointed one of the assistants under the governor. This charter was the one for which he had made his second visit to England. He was unable to remain until it was completed, and his colleague, Mr. Clarke, had the honor of obtaining it from the king. "It was the first charter," says Mr. Gammell, “that ever bore the signature of a king, and was the astonishment of the age in which it was granted. Like that which preceded it, it secured the most perfect freedom in matters of conscience, and thus guaranteed the perpetual exercise of the great principles on which the colony was founded. It continued to be the fundamental law of Rhode Island for nearly a hundred and eighty years, protecting the rights and securing the happiness of a long succession of generations, and 'holding forth a lively experiment that a most flourishing civil state may stand, and best be maintained, with a full liberty in religious concernments.' It was not supplanted until 1843. 999 In 1670 Williams was again chosen assistant, and also in 1677, but declined to be re-elected. He was now advanced in life, and needed repose. It was probably with the object of securing this that he declined the solicitations of his friends; but a man of his standing and popularity was not likely to be overlooked in or out of office. In 1672 he engaged in his celebrated Quaker controversy, endeavoring by argument to confute the peculiar doctrines of this sect. It is unnecessary to add that he failed in this effort; but it is well to remind the reader that, although he sheltered the Quakers when they needed shelter, he was by no means their friend, and frequently displayed more temper concerning them than we can account for by his antecedents. In the summer of 1675, the disastrous Indian crusade, headed by the famous King Philip, commenced. It was intended, by a confederation of all the tribes, to expel the whites from the country. The attempt was vigorous, and ended in the destruction of a vast amount of property, and the massacre of some five hundred of the colonists. At first Williams tried to exercise his wonted power over the savage minds of his enemies, but, failing in this, he girded on the sword, and commanded a train-band for the protection of the city. Unfortunately, it fell beneath the devastating hands of the Indians, and most of the public records were destroyed, thus obliterating much of the written testimony of this man's excellence. The remaining years of Roger Williams's life were unmarked by any event of historical importance, or, if such occurred, we are now without the record. It is probable that his exertions were directed mainly to the healing of old sores which still existed among the colonists, and that, like a benevolent sage, he acted the part of a public pacificator. At the time of his death he was in his eighty-fourth year, but the precise day when he departed this life is unknown. The only record of the event is found in a letter of the 10th of May, 1683, which mentions "that the Lord hath arrested by death our ancient and approved friend, Mr. Roger Williams, with divers others here." Mr. Williams was the author of several literary works, mostly of a theological and controversial character. His style was not remarkable for elegance or clearness, but it possessed a rude pioneer strength which served all the purposes of more polished composition. As an ecclesiastic he has been accused, and not unjustly, of wavering in his profession of doctrinal faith; but this is not remarkable. His experience of extreme religious tenacity, as exhibited by the ecclesiastics of Boston, may have warned him against a similar course, and led him to doubts, and fears, and wanderings in search of the truth. One thing has never been doubted he was a good and sincere Christian, indefatigable in his labors and unwearied in his diligence, and "one of the most disinterested men that ever lived-a most pious and heavenlyminded soul.”* : *Callender. WILLIAM HUTTON. THE subject of this memoir was a native of England, born at Derby on the 30th of September, 1723. His parents were in very humble circumstances, and belonged to the dissenting sect. Hutton says that they were remarkable for their steady love of peace and pudding; remarkable, also, for memory; not given much to receive, keep, or pay money; often sensible, always modest; the males inactive, the females distinguished for capacity. William was the most ordinary-looking child of the family, and his mother used to say that she was afraid she could not love him; but poverty-that awful test of human goodness-softened her heart, and she was true and kind to him as to the others. The family was sorely pressed at times, and more than once the poor woman sat with one infant on her knee and others nestled around her, on the cold floor, wailing for food, and when at length it arrived in scanty quantities, she surrendered her share to the more eager wants of her offspring. Time produced nothing but tatters and children. A lad so pitiably circumstanced was not likely to receive much education. For a very short time he was sent to school, and unIderwent the discipline of a petty tyrant, who imagined that it was necessary to break a boy's head in order to get any thing into it. At the age of seven he had to earn his own living, and was accordingly apprenticed for seven years to a silk-mill. As he was too short to reach the engine, the superintendents elevated him on a pair of pattens, and on this false footing he remained until nature kindly supplied him with a few more inches. In 1733, the family received a severe blow in the death of Mrs. Hutton. It was a fatal event for the children, who found themselves without a home, for their father took to drinking, and gave them but few of his thoughts. William did all that lay in his power, and struggled with his hard fate bravely and cheerily; but, in spite of his attentions, he had the wretchedness of seeing his little sister perish of want and neglect. In 1737 he quitted the silk-mill, of which he gives the following dismal picture: “I N |