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.