The Pilgrims preferred to be English, notwithstanding all. But they wished to stipulate with England for religious liberty. In this matter they had recourse to Sir Edwin Sandys, the one man who would probably be both able and willing to help them. Brewster had lived, as we have seen, in an old episcopal manor at Scrooby. Sandys, Archbishop of York, had transferred this manor by a lease to his eldest son, Sir Samuel Sandys, who was Brewster's landlord and brother of Sir Edwin Sandys. Of Sir Edwin the great liberal parliamentary statesman, Fuller says, "He was right-handed to any great employment." In 1617 he was already the most influential of the progressive leaders of the Virginia Company, its acting though not yet its nominal head, and in 1619 he was elected governor of the Company. Brewster's fellow-secretary under Davison was a chosen friend of Sandys, and, in view of both these connections, we may consider it almost certain that the two were not strangers. To Sir Edwin Sandys was due much of the new interest in Virginia. He and his group seem to have been already striving to shape the colony into a liberal state. [Sidenote: Failure to secure formal toleration.] [Sidenote: Bacon's Advice to Villiers.] [Sidenote: Archdale's Carolina, 26.] To meet the views of the Leyden people, Sandys endeavored by the intervention of a more acceptable courtier to gain assurance from the king, under the broad seal, that their religion should be tolerated if they migrated to Virginia. But James's peculiar conscience recoiled from this. He intimated that he would wink at their practices but he would not tolerate them by public act. And, indeed, the Pilgrims reflected afterward that "a seale as broad as the house flore would not serve the turne" of holding James to his promise. At the king's suggestion the archbishops were applied to, but neither would they formally approve such an arrangement. Nor can one wonder at their unwillingness, since the most profound, liberal, and far-seeing thinker of that age, Lord Bacon himself, was so far subject to the prejudices of his time that he could protest against allowing heretics to settle a colony, and could support his position by a mystical argument fit to be advanced by the most fantastic theologian. "It will make schism and rent in Christ's coat, which must be seamless," he says. He even goes so far as to group Separatists with outlaws and criminals, and to advise that if such should transplant themselves to the colonies they should be "sent for back upon the first notice," for "such persons are not fit to lay the foundation of a new colony." Much more fit than is a speculative philosopher to draw the lines on which practical undertakings are to be carried forward. The transplanting of English speech and institutions to America would have languished as French colonization did, if none but orthodox settlers had been allowed to fell trees and build cabins in the forest. Ever since the