This visit gave John Ovy an opportunity to enquire of me after Isaac Penington, whose writings (those which he had written before he came among Friends) he had read, and had a great esteem of; and he expressed a desire to see him, that he might have some discourse with him, if he knew how. Whereupon I told him, that if he would take the pains to go to his house, I would bear him company thither, introduce him, and engage he should have a kind reception.

This pleased him much, and he embracing the offer, I undertook to give him notice of a suitable time, which, (after I had gone this little journey with my friend Richard Greenaway, and was returned) I did, making choice of the monthly meeting to go to.

We met by appointment at Stoken church, with our staves in our hands, like a couple of pilgrims, intending to walk on foot; and having taken some refreshment and rest at Wiccomb, went on cheerfully in the afternoon, entertaining each other with grave and religious discourse, which made the walk the easier, and so reached thither in good time, on the seventh-day of the week.

I gave my friends an account who this person was, whom I had brought to visit them, and the ground of his visit. He had been a professor of religion from his childhood to his old age; for he was now both gray-headed and elderly, and was a teacher at this time, and had long been so, amongst a people

whether Independents or Baptists, I do not well remember. And so well thought of he was, for his zeal and honesty, that in those late professing times, he was thrust into the commission of the peace, and thereby lifted up upon the bench, which neither became him, nor he it. For he wanted indeed most of the qualifications requisite for a justice of the peace; an estate to defray the charges of the office, and to bear him up in a course of living above contempt, a competent knowledge in the laws, and a presence of mind or body, or both, to keep offenders in some awe; in all which he was deficient. For he was but a fell-monger by trade, accustomed to ride upon his pack of skins, and had very little estate, as little knowledge in the law, and of but a mean presence and appearance to look on. But as my father, I suppose, was the means of getting him put into the commission, so he, I know, did what he could to countenance him in it, and help him through it at every turn, till that turn came, at the king's return, which turned them both out together.

My friends received me in affectionate kindness, and my companion with courteous civility. The evening was spent in common but grave conversation; for it was not a proper season for private discourse, both as we were somewhat weary with our walk, and there were other companies of Friends come into the family, to be at the meeting next day,

But in the morning I took John Ovy into a private walk, in a pleasant grove near the house, whither Isaac Penington came to us; and there, in discourse, both answered all his questions, objections and doubts, and opened to him the principles of truth, both to his admiration and present satisfaction. Which done, we went in to take some refreshment before the meeting began.

Of those Friends who were come over night, in order to be at the meeting, there were Isaac's brother, William Penington, a mer. chant of London, and with him a Friend whose name I have forgotten, a grocer of Colchester in Essex; and there was also our Friend George Whitehead, whom I had not that I remember seen before.

The nation had been in a ferment, ever since that mad action of the frantic Fifth-Monarchy men, and was not yet settled; but storms like thunder-showers flew here and there by coast, so that we could not promise ourselves any safety or quiet in our meetings. And though they had escaped disturbance for some little time before, yet so it fell out, that a party of horse were appointed to come and break up the meeting that day, though we knew nothing of it till we heard and saw them.

The meeting was scarce fully gathered when they came. But we that were in the family, and many others were settled in it, in great peace and stillness; when on a sudden the

prancing of the horses gave notice that lightning was at hand.

We all sat still in our places, except my companion John Ovy, who sat next to me. But he being of a profession that approved Peter's advice to his Lord, to save himself, soon took the alarm; and with the nimbleness of a stripling, cutting a caper over the form that stood before him, ran quickly out at a private door (which he had before osberved) which led through the parlour into the gardens, and from thence into an orchard; where he hid himself in a place so obscure, and withal so conveni. ent for his intelligence by observation of what passed, that no one of the family could easily have found a likelier.

By that time he was got into his burrow, came the soldiers in, being a party of the county troop, commanded by Matthew Archdale, of Wiccomb. He behaved himself civilly, and said he was commanded to break up the meeting, and carry the men before a justice of the peace; but he said he would not take all ; and thereupon began to pick and choose, chiefly as his eye guided him, for I suppose he knew very few.

He took Isaac Penington and his brother, George Whitehead, and the friend of Colches ter and me, with three or four more of the country, who belonged to that meeting.

He was not fond of the work, and that made him take no more. But he must take some, he said, and bid us provide to go with him

before Sir William Boyer of Denham, who was a justice of the peace. Isaac Penington being but weakly, rode; but the rest of us walked thither, it being about four miles.

When we came there, the justice carried himself civilly to us all; courteously to Isaac Penington, as being a gentleman of his neighbourhood; and there was nothing charged against us, but that we were met together without word or deed. Yet this being contrary to a late proclamation, given forth upon the rising of the Fifth-Monarchy-men, whereby all dissenters' meetings were forbidden the justice could do no less than take notice of us.

Wherefore he examined all of us, whom he did not personally know, asking our names, and the places of our respective habitations. But when he had them, and considered from what distant parts of the nation we came, he was amazed. For G. Whitehead was of Westmoreland, in the north of England; the grocer was of Essex; I was of Oxfordshire; and W. Penington was of London.

Hereupon he told us, that our cases looked ill, and he was sorry for it; for how, said he, can it be imagined that so many could jump altogether at one time and one place, from such remote quarters and parts of the kingdom, if it was not by combination and appointment.

He was answered, that we were so far from coming thither by agreement or appointment, that none of us knew of the others coming; and for the most of us, we had never seen