But as if learning had been a forbidden fruit to me, scarce was I
well settled in my work before I met with another diversion, which
turned me quite out of my work.

For a sudden storm arising, from I know not what surmise of a plot,
and thereby danger to the government, and the meetings of
Dissenters--such I mean as could be found, which perhaps were not
many besides the Quakers--were broken up throughout the city, and
the prisons mostly filled with our friends.

I was that morning, which was the 26th day of the eighth month,
1662, at the meeting at the Bull and Mouth, by Aldersgate, when on a
sudden a party of soldiers (of the trained bands of the city) rushed
in, with noise and clamour, being led by one who was called Major
Rosewell, an apothecary, if I misremember not, and at that time
under the ill name of a Papist.

As soon as he was come within the room, having a file or two of
musketeers at his heels, he commanded his men to present their
muskets at us, which they did, with intent, I suppose, to strike a
terror into the people. Then he made a proclamation that all who
were not Quakers might depart if they would.

It so happened that a young man, an apprentice in London, whose name
was --- Dove, the son of Dr. Dove, of Chinner, near Crowell, in
Oxfordshire, came that day in curiosity to see the meeting, and
coming early, and finding me there (whom he knew), came and sat down
by me.

As soon as he heard the noise of soldiers he was much startled, and