"It has not been so of late. I hope thou hast considered before speaking.
If I hear no better of thee soon thou wilt repent it. It is time thou
shouldst take thy life more seriously. What I have said is for no ear but
thine."

I went away with a vague feeling that I had suffered for Mr. Bradford, and
on account of my father's refusal to join in resistance to the Stamp Act;
for this was in November, 1765, and I was then fully twelve years of age.

My father's confession, and all he had said following it, made upon me one
of those lasting impressions which are rare in youth, but which may have a
great influence on the life of a man. Now all the boys were against the
Stamp Act, and I had at the moment a sudden fear at being opposed to my
father. I had, too, a feeling of personal shame because this strong man,
whom I dreaded on account of his severity, should have been so overwhelmed
by an insult. There was at this period, and later, much going on in my
outer life to lessen the relentless influence of the creed of conduct which
prevailed in our home for me, and for all of our house. I had even then
begun to suspect at school that non-resistance did not add permanently to
the comfort of life. I was sorry that my father had not resorted to
stronger measures with Mr. Bradford, a gentleman whom, in after-years, I
learned greatly to respect.

More than anything else, this exceptional experience as to my father left
me with a great desire to know more of these Wynnes, and with a certain
share of that pride of race, which, to my surprise, as I think it over now,
was at that time in my father's esteem a possession of value. I am bound to
add that I also felt some self-importance at being intrusted with this
secret, for such indeed it was.