“Lastly (and which was not least) a great hope and inward zeall they had of laying some good foundation, or at least to make some way thereunto, for y^{e} propagating and advancing y^{e} gospell of y^{e} kingdom of Christ in those remote parts of y^{e} world: yea, though they should be but even as stepping-stones unto others for y^{e} performing of so great a work.” So, “not out of newfangledness, or other such like giddie humor, but for sundrie weightie and solid reasons,” the voyage was determined upon, and the King’s consent to their emigration to America sought. Winslow tells us, in his _Briefe Narrative of the True Grounds for the First Planting of New England_, that when their plans were laid before King James he remarked that “it was a good and honest notion,” and asking further what profits might arise, he was answered, “fishing.” “So God have my soul,” he said, “so God have my soul, ’tis an honest trade; ‘twas the apostles’ own calling!” And we may state here, notwithstanding Bradford’s statement that in the beginning “we did lack small hooks,” New England, before 1650, annually sent to Europe £100,000 worth of dried codfish. After many weary negotiations, a patent was at length obtained, but the future colonists were refused a formal grant of freedom in religious worship under the King’s broad seal. A loan was made by some seventy “Merchant Adventurers” in England, and late in July, 1620, we find our future colonists on the quay at Delfthaven, ready to embark on the _Speedwell_. They are surrounded by their tearful friends, for whom, Winslow says, “they felt such love as is seldom found on earth.” Many of their number are to stay at Leyden under the faithful care of John Robinson, whose touching farewell words Winslow has preserved for us: “he charged us before God and his blessed angels to follow him no further than he followed Christ; and if God should reveal anything to us by any other instrument of his, to be as ready to receive it as ever we were to receive any truth by his ministry; for he was very confident the Lord had more truth and light yet to break forth out of his holy word.” This sad scene must have been still vivid in Bradford’s memory when he wrote some ten years later in Plymouth: “truly dolfull was y^{e} sight of that sade and mournfull parting; to see what sighs and sobbs and praires did sound amongst them, what tears did gush from every eye, & pithy speeches peirst each harte”; “but they knewe they were pilgrimes, and looked not much on those things, but lift up their eyes to y^{e} heavens, their dearest cuntrie, and quieted their spirits.”