There he stood before the Old Exchange in London, on a bitter December day, in the presence of thousands of spectators. He bore not only the branding with a red-hot iron on the forehead until smoke arose from the burning flesh, but also other worse tortures with 'a wonderful patience.' The crowd, who always assembled on such occasions, were touched by his demeanour. Instead of jeering and mocking, as they were accustomed to do to criminals, all these thousands of people lifted their hats in token of respect, and remained standing bareheaded as they watched him in his agony. It is said that 'he shrinked a little when the iron came upon his forehead,' yet on being unbound he embraced his executioner. One faithful friend, Robert Rich, who had done his utmost to save Nayler from this terrible punishment, stood with him on the pillory and held his hand all through the burning, and afterwards licked the wounds with his tongue to allay the pain. 'I am the dog that licked Lazarus' sores,' Robert Rich used to say, alluding to that terrible day. Long years after, when he was an old man with a long white beard, he used to walk up and down in Meeting in a long velvet gown, still repeating the story of his friend's sufferings and of his patience.
After this punishment Nayler was sent down to Bristol to undergo the rest of his sentence there. He was made to enter the city again in deepest humiliation, no longer with excited followers shouting 'Hosanna!' before him, but seated on a horse _facing to the tail_, with the big 'B' burned on his forehead for all men to see--and then he was publicly whipped.
Yet in spite of all the pain and shame he must have been happier in one way during that sorrowful return to Bristol than at his former entrance to the city, for he must have had more true peace in his heart.
Now, at last, comes the happy end of this sad story. There is no need to sit over the fire in the darkness any longer. We can dry our eyes and light the lamps--for it is not sorrowful really. James Nayler's mistakes and sufferings had not been wasted. They had made him more really like his Master, and his worst troubles were now over.
He still lay in prison for two years more, but he was allowed ink and paper, and he wrote many beautiful letters acknowledging that he had done wrong, confessing his sin, and praising God even for the sufferings which had shown him his error. He says in one place, 'the provocation of that time of temptation was exceeding great against the pure love of God; yet He left me not; for after I had given myself under that power, and darkness was above, my adversary so prevailed, that all things were turned and so perverted against my right seeing, hearing, or understanding; only a secret hope and faith I had in my God whom I had served, that He would bring me through it, and to the end of it, and that I should again see the day of my redemption from under it all; and this quieted my soul in my greatest tribulation.'