In October 1659 a Quaker from Lancashire, William Caton, found himself ‘moved of the Lord’ to travel to Leith and Edinburgh. While he was there he reported ‘good service, sometimes Among the souldiers, sometimes among the Scots and often among friendes’, and he hoped that his ministry had done some good in this ‘time of tryall’. Caton’s visit to Edinburgh was undertaken at a moment of high political drama, as General George Monck was preparing to march his troops to London in the final unravelling of the British republic. Caton noted the significance of these events, commenting that the Lord was ‘ariseing in his almighty power, to breake his enemies to peeces like a potters vessel’. But this apocalyptic vision was underpinned by a more worldly assessment of the political crisis, which, as Caton stated, was ‘not the Lords doeing’. Caton's letter, indeed, epitomized a remarkable commitment to human political intervention. Since his arrival in Edinburgh, Caton had ‘endeavoured to speake’ on a number of occasions with General Monck, but because he ‘could not have accesse’ to him, had spoken instead to his secretary, William Clarke, who promised to pass on Caton’s concerns, not only to Monck, but also to his officers. Caton was so encouraged by William Clarke and his colleagues, whom he found ‘prettie moderate and civill towardes mee’, that he arranged to have his address to Monck printed in Newcastle for wider distribution among officers and soldiers. Yet, despite the apparent cordiality of William Clarke, Caton knew that these were dangerous times, and recommended that a fuller account should be had verbally from the bearer of his letter, George Collison: ‘Many thinges I might write of but not knowing in whose handes this may come I shall therefore be spareing’.