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.
JOHN CROOK.’
This John Crook had been a man of note in the world, not only because he had been a justice of peace, as hath been said in due place, but also because he was a man of good intellects; and yet his zeal for what he believed to be truth, was such, that he became willing to bear the reproach of the world, that so he might enjoy peace with God. But though he was a man of learning, yet most of the first preachers of the doctrine held forth by those called Quakers, were people of small account in the world; but yet they were so powerful in their preaching, that many thereby were turned to true godliness.
Some have been reached by the sayings of dying penitents; for there have been remarkable instances of young people sprung from honest parents, who having walked in the broad way, did very earnestly bewail their outgoings on a dying bed, and then declared, that if it pleased God, to raise them up again, they would not, as before, be ashamed of the despised way of the Quakers, nor fear any mockings or persecution, but that they would serve the Lord, in uprightness, and with all their heart. These thus repenting with tears for their transgressions, have experienced after great agonies, that God wills not the death of sinners, but that they should repent, and so live in everlasting happiness.
Of several such like cases, I will only mention one, viz. that of a young maid at London, called Susanna Whitrow, whose mother was of the society of the Quakers, but not her father. On her dying bed she complained exceedingly of her rebellion and vain behaviour: ‘Ah,’ said she to her mother, ‘how often hast thou said, the Lord would plead with us: now the day is come. Pride and disobedience were my cursed fruits, which I brought forth when I was a hearer in the public church. How often have I adorned myself as fine in their fashion as I could make me; yet they despised my dress, and said, ‘How like a tawdry have you dressed yourself; you are not at all in the mode.’ Then coming home on the Sabbath-day, I went immediately up into my chamber, and locking the door, I altered all my laces, and so went to their worship in the afternoon, dressed in their mode, and then I pleased them.’ At another time she said, ‘O that I might have a little time longer to go into the country, and walk in the woods to seek the Lord. O what matter for fine houses and silk apparel: O remember him that sat on the ground, and wore a garment without a seam, our blessed holy Lord, who went up to the mountains to pray, and withdrew himself into gardens and desolate places. I have done nothing for the Lord, but he hath done all for me: therefore I desire to live, that I might live an holy and righteous life, that my conversation might be in heaven, though my body be here on earth. How would I then invite and warn others, not to spend their precious time in adorning themselves like Jezebel, patching and painting, and curling their hair. O the Christian life is quite another thing: we must not give ourselves the liberty to think our own thoughts, much less to act such abominations.’ Several days she was in a strong wrestling and conflict of spirit, and in fervent prayer to God, so that when somebody was for removing her head a little, she refusing it, said, ‘I would not suffer a thought to wander; if I move, I shall be drawn off my watch, and then the temper will prevail.’ Continuing in this conflict, she conceived at length hopes of forgiveness; and being thus strengthened by mercy, she said to the Lord, ‘O what can my soul say of thy power: when I sought thee, but could not find thee; I knocked hard, but none did open: for my sins stood like mountains, that I could not come near thee: I would fain have prayed to thee, but could not. Thus I lay several days and nights struggling for life, but could find none: and I said, “There is no mercy for me:” then I said, “I will never leave thee; if I perish, I will perish here; I will never cease crying unto thee.” And then I heard a voice say, “Jacob wrestled all night before he obtained the blessing.” Oh then thy word, O Lord, was strong to my soul: then my stony heart was broken to pieces, and the spirit of prayer and supplication was poured upon me. And now I can sing as David did, of mercy, and of judgment: “Unto thee, O Lord, will I sing, with a rent heart, and with my mouth in the dust will I sing praises to thee, my blessed Saviour.”’ In this frame she endeavoured to continue, and once she prayed for her father, called Robert Whitrow, part of which prayer was as followeth: ‘O Lord, remember not his offences, let me bear them; let it be easy to him; make his friends to be enemies to him, that thou mayest have mercy upon him. His temptations are great; Lord, carry him through; O let him not perish with the world; do thou support him over this world. Shall a little dirt of this world draw away his mind: O Lord, let his mind be set on things above; fix his mind upon thee.’ Thus fervently this young maid prayed for her father, herself now having attained a full assurance of her salvation, so that she once said to the Lord, ‘O thou beloved of my soul, what shall I say of thee, for thou art too wonderful for me: O praises be unto thee.’ And afterward perceiving that her end was approaching, she said to her mother, ‘I must lay down this body, the Lord will not trust me longer in this present wicked world: happy am I: my Saviour, my soul loves thee dearly; thy love is better than wine: my Saviour, my holy One, how glorious art thou: I have seen thy glory; I am overcome with thy sweet countenance; O how lovely art thou! My heart is ravished with the sweet smiles of thy glorious countenance. O, come away, come away, why dost thou stay? I am ready, I am ready.’ Then she lay some time very still, and so departed this life without sigh or groan: which was about the year 1677.
Such like dying persons have been the means sometimes to stir up others to true godliness, whereby they came to be joined with the people called Quakers; and though these in time came to be very numerous, yet at first there were but few labourers in the ministry of the word. But these recommending one another to give diligent heed to the word of God in the heart, and to mind that as their teacher, did often meet together and keep assemblies, sitting down with such a deep retiredness of mind, being turned inward to God, that tears trickled down their cheeks, to the astonishment of many that looked upon them, some of which, only by beholding this retiredness, came to be so effectually reached, that they also joined with them, and frequented their meetings. In the mean while many of these became more and more confirmed in their minds by this silent exercise, and their understandings came to be so opened, that in process of time they became apt and fit instruments to exhort others to godliness: and among these several women also found it their duty to preach the gospel.
There have been many who were very averse to the Quakers, and yet came to join with them in the faith; as among others, Christopher Bacon, in Somersetshire, who, about the year 1656, coming into a meeting, not with intention to be edified there, but rather to scoff, and to fetch his wife from thence, who went thither against his mind, was so reached by the lively exhortation he heard, that he was not only convinced of the truth preached there, but in time became a zealous preacher of it himself, and was valiant in sufferings. Once being taken up at a meeting in Glastonbury, and brought before bishop Mew, at Wells, who called him a rebel, for meeting contrary to the king’s laws, Christopher having formerly been a soldier for the king, said to him, ‘Dost thou call me rebel: I would have thee to know, that I have ventured my life for the king in the field, when such as thou lay behind hedges.’ By this he stopped the bishop’s mouth, who did not expect such an answer, and therefore was willing to be rid of him.