Here is the same incident as written by Ellwood, and then re-written by me.
Ellwood:
When I had set up my horse … a knot of my old acquaintances espying me, came to me. One of these was a scholar in his gown, another a surgeon of that city, both my schoolfellows and fellow-boarders at Thame-school, and the third a country gentleman, with whom I had long been very familiar. When they were come up to me, they all saluted me after the usual manner, putting off their hats and bowing, and saying, “Your humble servant, Sir,” expecting, no doubt, the like from me. But when they saw me stand still, not moving my cap, nor bowing my knee in the way of congee to them, they were amazed, and looked first one upon another, then upon me, and then one upon another again for a while, without speaking a word. At length the surgeon, a brisk young man, who stood nearest to me, clapping his hand in a familiar way upon my shoulder, and smiling on me, said, “What, Tom, a Quaker!” To which I readily and cheerfully answered, yes, a Quaker.” And as the words passed out of my mouth, I felt a joy spring in my heart; for I rejoiced that I had not been drawn out by them, into a compliance with them, and that I had strength and boldness given me, to confess myself to be one of that despised people. They stayed not long with me, nor said more, that I remember, to me; but looking somewhat confusedly one upon another, after a while took their leave of me, going off in the same ceremonious manner as they came on.
Middle Flight:
I can recall the first time I made public profess of my faith. I was going in to a hall in Thame, and saw three gentlemen standing in the yard. Them I knew: a doctor, a student, and a young country squire with whom I’d hunted not three months before. They saw me before I could turn away, and instantly made salutation – taking off their hats, and bowing low. ‘Your servant, sir,’ they said, in greeting as had been my style too.
But much surprised they were when I not returned their courtesy, but stood up straight before them, my hat upon my head. ‘What, Tom,’ the doctor said. ‘Are you become a Quaker, then?’
‘Yes. Yes, I am a Quaker.’ And as the words dropped from my lips I felt a joy transfuse my soul, as though a light within had burst and filled out all my flesh.
These three did not understand, but they were kind, and stayed some minutes still in common chat as though I had not changed. And when they left returned to me the same ceremony as they had before: ‘Your servant, sir’ and all the rest – a custom I could not return, but did not resent in them: for I saw it was their way to show they had still some regard for me, despite my hated faith.
