pity for the afflictions of Joseph, to excite compassionate regard to those poor countrymen now languishing in misery and irons, to endeavor their releasement."[83] [83] A True Account of the Captivity of Thomas Phelps at Machiness in Barbary, and of his strange Escape, in Company of Edmund Baxter and others: Osborne's Voyages, Vol. II. pp. 499-510. Even the non-resistance of Quakers, animated by zeal for freedom, contrived to baffle these slave-dealers. A ship in the charge of these Christians became the prey of Algerines; and the curious story is told, with details unnecessary here, of the manner in which the vessel was subsequently recaptured by the crew without loss of life. To complete this triumph, the slave-pirates were safely landed on their own shores, and allowed to go their way in peace, acknowledging with astonishment and gratitude this new application of the Christian injunction to do good to them that hate you. On the return, Charles the Second, being at Greenwich, and learning that "there was a Quaker ketch coming up the river, that had been taken by the Turks, and redeemed themselves without fighting," came to it in his barge, and there hearing "how they had let the Turks go free," said to the master, with the spirit of a slave-dealer, "You have done like a fool, for you might have had good gain for them." And to the mate he said, "You should have brought the Turks to me." "_I thought it better for them to be in their own country_," was the Quaker's reply.[84] [84] Sewel, History of the Quakers, pp. 392-397. These are English stories. But there is testimony also from France. A Catholic father furnishes a chapter entitled, "Of some Slaves that made their Escape"; and he begins by narrating the difficulties: how the slaves, before they start, secure the assistance of certain Moors, called _Metadores_, "who promise to conduct them among Christians for a sum agreed on"; how they journey all night, sheltering themselves during the day in woods, caves, or other retired places, always in dread, and anxiously awaiting the return of darkness to cover their movements; how the flight is long and wearisome, environed by perpetual hardship and peril; how, if alone, there is danger of death on the mountains, through hunger and thirst, or from lions and tigers; and how, if retaken, there is the fearful prospect of being burned or cruelly bastinadoed, with a constant weight of irons while at their daily toil. "But their torments and dangers," says the father, "are less dreadful than the thoughts of living all their days in that miserable slavery."[85] [85] Busnot, History of the Reign of Muley Ismael, Chap. VII. p. 171.