But when I was ready to take horse, looking out into the street, I saw two or three justices standing just in the way where I was to ride. This brought a fresh concern upon me. I knew if they saw me they would know me; and I concluded, if they knew me, they would stop me and inquire after my father, and I doubted how I should come off with them.
This doubting brought weakness on me, and that weakness led to contrivance how I might avoid this trial. I knew the city pretty well, and remembered there was a back way, which though somewhat about, would bring me out of town without passing by those justices; yet loth I was to go that way. Wherefore I stayed a pretty time, in hopes they would have parted company, or removed to some other place out of my way. But when I had waited until I was uneasy for losing so much time, having entered into reasonings with flesh and blood, the weakness prevailed over me, and away I went the back way, which brought trouble and grief upon my spirit for having shunned the cross.
But the Lord looked on me with a tender eye, and seeing my heart was right to Him, and that what I had done was merely through weakness and fear of falling, and that I was sensible of my failing therein, and sorry for it, He was graciously pleased to pass it by, and speak peace to me again. So that before I got home, as when I went in the morning, my heart was full of breathing prayer to the Lord, that He would vouchsafe to be with me, and uphold and carry me through that day’s exercise; so now at my return in the evening, my heart was full of thankful acknowledgments and praises unto Him for His great goodness and favour to me, in having thus far preserved and kept me from falling into anything that might have brought dishonour to His holy name, which I had now taken on me.
But notwithstanding that it was thus with me, and that I found peace and acceptance with the Lord in some good degree, according to my obedience to the convictions I had received by His holy Spirit in me, yet was not the veil so done away, or fully rent, but that there still remained a cloud upon my understanding with respect to my carriage towards my father. And that notion which the enemy had brought into my mind, that I ought to put such a difference between him and all others as that, on account of the paternal relation, I should still deport myself towards him, both in gesture and language, as I had always heretofore done, did yet prevail with me. So that when I came home I went to my father bareheaded, as I used to do, and gave him a particular account of the business he had given me in command, in such manner that we, observing no alteration in my carriage towards him, found no cause to take offence at me.
I had felt for some time before an earnest desire of mind to go again to Isaac Penington’s, and I began to question whether, when my father should come (as I concluded ere long he would) to understand I inclined to settle among the people called Quakers, he would permit me the command of his horses, as before. Wherefore, in the morning when I went to Oxford I gave directions to a servant of his to go that day to a gentleman of my acquaintance, who I knew had a riding nag to put off either by sale or to be kept for his work, and desired him, in my name, to send him to me; which he did, and I found him in the stable when I came home.
On this nag I designed to ride next day to Isaac Penington’s, and in order thereunto arose betimes and got myself ready for the journey; but because I would pay all due respect to my father, and not go without his consent, or knowledge at the least, I sent one up to him (for he was not yet stirring) to acquaint him that I had a purpose to go to Isaac Penington’s, and desired to know if he pleased to command me any service to them. He sent me word he would speak with me before I went, and would have me come up to him, which I did, and stood by his bedside.
Then, in a mild and gentle tone, he said: “I understand you have a mind to go to Mr. Penington’s.” I answered, “I have so.”—“Why,” said he, “I wonder why you should. You were there, you know, but a few days ago, and unless you had business with them, don’t you think it will look oddly?”—I said, “I thought not.”—“I doubt,” said he, “you’ll tire them with your company, and make them think they shall be troubled with you.”—“If,” replied I, “I find anything of that, I’ll make the shorter stay.”—“But,” said he, “can you propose any sort of business with them, more than a mere visit?”—“Yes,” said I, “I propose to myself not only to see them, but to have some discourse with them.”—“Why,” said he, in a tone a little harsher, “I hope you don’t incline to be of their way.”—“Truly,” answered I, “I like them and their way very well, so far as I yet understand it; and I am willing to go to them that I may understand it better.”
Thereupon he began to reckon up a beadroll of faults against the Quakers, telling me they were a rude, unmannerly people, that would not give civil respect or honour to their superiors, no not to magistrates; that they held many dangerous principles; that they were an immodest shameless people; and that one of them stripped himself stark naked, and went in that unseemly manner about the streets, at fairs and on market days, in great towns.
To all the other charges I answered only, “That perhaps they might be either misreported or misunderstood, as the best of people had sometimes been.” But to the last charge of going naked, a particular answer, by way of instance, was just then brought into my mind and put into my mouth, which I had not thought of before, and that was the example of Isaiah, who went naked among the people for a long time (Isaiah xx. 4). “Ay,” said my father, “but you must consider that he was a prophet of the Lord, and had an express command from God to go so.”
“Yes, sir,” replied I, “I do consider that; but I consider also, that the Jews, among whom he lived, did not own him for a prophet, nor believe that he had such a command from God. And,” added I, “how know we but that this Quaker may be a prophet too, and might be commanded to do as he did, for some reason which we understand not?”