_Aylesbury, 15th of 3d month, 1667._
From this conclusion, we see the humility of the mind of this friend,
who, when he wrote this, was already much advanced in the way of
godliness, and had lived several years in the communion of those called
Quakers. Now, though it be the duty of every one, not to be conceited
of himself, yet certain it is, that men of refined wits, above all
others, have need to continue truly humble, and not to rely thereon,
since the trusting to acuteness of wit, hath rather drawn off many
from the way of truth, than led them to it; nay, it hath occasioned
the fall of some. But that I. Pennington endeavoured to continue in
true humility, appears plainly from the relation above. He was a man
of a very compassionate temper, and yet valiant in adversities: he
also suffered not a little on the account of his religion, but endured
many tedious and long imprisonments; which were the more hard to him,
because he being of a weakly constitution, the suffering of cold
and hardship, did him the more hurt. And yet he never fainted, but
continued steadfast to the end of his life, which was in the latter
part of the year 1679, when he departed in a pious frame of mind.
By the foregoing relation, it appears evidently that he was very
earnestly seeking after the true way to salvation, before he attained
to a perfect quietness of mind; yet in that time there wanted not such
as were helpful to him with good and wholesome advice; and among these
John Crook, whose occurrences make up no small part of this history,
was none of the least. And since there is yet extant a letter of his
to him, wherein he not only spoke very effectually to the inward state
of I. Pennington; but for his instruction and encouragement, gave also
an account of the great difficulties and temptations he himself had
met with, I cannot well omit to insert the same here; because from the
ingenuous and open-hearted letters of familiar friends to one another,
we generally may discover very plainly their inward state, and also
their outward qualities. This letter was as followeth:
‘_Dear Friend_,
‘My dear and tender love salutes thee, in that love from whence
I had my being, from whence sprang all my Father’s children, who
are born from above, heirs of an everlasting inheritance. Oh!
how sweet and pleasant are the pastures which my Father causeth
all his sheep to feed in: there is a variety of plenty in his
pastures, milk for babes, and strong meat for them of riper age,
and wine to refresh those that are ready to faint; even the wine
of the kingdom, that makes glad the heart when it is ready to
faint, by reason of the infirmities: sure I am, none can be so
weary, but he takes care of them; nor none so nigh fainting,
but he puts his arm under their heads; nor none can be so beset
with enemies on every side, but he will arise and scatter; nor
none so heavy laden and big with young, but he takes notice of
them, and gently leads them, and will not leave them behind unto
the merciless wolf; because they are his own, and his life is
the price of their redemption, and his blood of their ransom;
and if they be so young that they cannot go, he carries them in
his arms; and when they can feel nothing stirring after him,
his bowels yearn after them; so tender is this good Shepherd
after all his flock. I can tell, for I was as one that once went
astray, and wandered upon the barren mountains: and when I had
wearied myself with wandering, I went into the wilderness, and
there I was torn as with briers, and pricked as with thorns;
sometimes thinking this was the way, and sometimes concluding
that was the way, and by and by concluding all were out of the
way. And then bitter mourning came upon me, and weeping for
want of the interpreter; for when I sought to know what was the
matter, and where I was, it was too hard for me; then I thought
I would venture on some way where it was most likely to find a
lost God; and I would pray with them that prayed, and fast with
them that fasted, and mourn with them that mourned, if by any
means I might come to rest, but found it not, until I came to
see the candle lighted in my own house, and my heart swept from
those thoughts and imaginations, and willings, and runnings; and
to die unto them all, not heeding of them; but watching against
them, lest I should let my mind go a whoring after them; and here
I dwelt for a time, as in a desolate land uninhabited; where I
sat alone as a sparrow upon the house top, and was hunted up
and down like a partridge upon the mountains; and could rest
no where, but some lust or thought or other followed me at the
heels, and disquieted me night and day, until I came to know
him in whom was rest, and no occasion of stumbling, in whom the
devil hath no part; and he became unto me as a hiding-place from
the storms, and from the tempests; then came my eyes to see my
Saviour, and my sorrow to fly away, and he became made unto me
all in all, my wisdom, my righteousness, my sanctification,
in whom I was and am complete, to the praise of the riches of
his grace and goodness that endures forever. Therefore be not
discouraged, O thou tossed as with tempests, nor dismayed in
thyself, because thou seest such mighty hosts of enemies rising
up against thee, and besetting thee on every side; for none was
so beset, and tried, and tempted as the true seed was, who was
a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: but be thou still
in thy mind, and let the billows pass over, and wave upon wave,
and fret not thyself because of them, neither be cast down as if
it should never be otherwise with thee: sorrow comes at night,
but joy in the morning, and the days of thy mourning shall be
over, and the accuser will God cast out forever; for therefore
was I afflicted, and not comforted, and tempted and tried for
this end, that I might know how to speak a word in due season
unto those who are tempted and afflicted as I once was: as it was
said unto me in that day when sorrow lay heavy upon me. Therefore
be not disconsolated, neither give heed unto the reasonings and
disputings of thy own heart, nor the fears that rise therefrom;
but be strong in the faith, believing in the light which lets
thee see them; and his grace thou wilt know to be sufficient for
thee, and his strength to be made perfect in thy weakness; and
so wilt thou rather glory in thy infirmities, that his power may
rest upon thee, than in thy earnest desires to be rid of them;
for by these things thou wilt come to live in the life of God,
and joy in God, and glory in tribulation; when thou hast learned
in all conditions to be contented; and through trials and deep
exercises is the way to learn this lesson. These things, in
dear love to thee, I have written, being somewhat sensible of
thy condition, and the many snares thou art daily liable unto;
therefore watch, that thou fall not into temptation, and my God
and Father keep thee in the arms of eternal love, over all, unto
the end, unto his praise. Amen.