living in Sussex uneasy, and to that end took advantage of his nonconformity in point of religion."

Penn must at that time have contemplated a residence in that part of England; and another letter, without date, written by him to the same person as before, indicates that he was interested in people dwelling thereabouts. He recommended to his "noble friend," two shipwrights, for the building of a couple of vessels that were wanted, and apologised for this application on their behalf, remarking that they are knaves without reason, that exclude a moderate and reasonable regard to their interest."1 This idea of residing in Sussex should be connected with what happened afterwards. He did afterwards take up his residence at Worminghurst, in that county. How that happened we shall see. Might he not in 1671 be thinking of that estate in connection with what happened as described in my next chapter?

1 "Historical MS. Report," vol. iv. p. 289; date 1671, Nov. 17th, London.

THE

CHAPTER VI.

A FAMILY STORY.

HE intimacy of William Penn with a family named Pennington had so much influence on his circumstances, destiny, and character, that notices of the interesting and even romantic history of its members may, with propriety, detain our attention in this chapter.

Isaac Pennington was son of the famous Alderman Pennington who conspicuously figured in the city on the Parliament side during the civil war. The father could tell of Westminster riots, of the seizure of unpopular prelates in consequence of tumultuous meetings in Guildhall, and of the destruction of Old St. Paul's Cross. He could also relate how he had handed into the House of Commons a Puritan petition with 15,000 signatures. The alderman was included in the High Court of Justice for the trial of Charles I., and hence he was plunged into trouble and danger when Charles II. succeeded to his father's throne. Isaac Pennington was a different man from the alderman,-not political, not ambitious, not busy with public affairs, but a quiet country gentleman.

I have noticed already that there existed in the middle of the seventeeth century much religious thought and feelings akin to Quakerism, yet lying outside its definite circle. Many good men and women might be said to be almost Quakers, without knowing anything of the history of that people, or

even the meaning of the word. This was the case with the person now described. He has opened up to us the secrets of his spiritual life, and revealed the beginning of it, as follows: "My heart from my childhood was pointed toward the Lord, whom I feared and longed after from my tender years. I felt that I could not be satisfied with, nor indeed seek after, the things of this perishing world, but I desired a true sense of, and unity with, that which abideth for ever. There was something still within me which leavened and balanced my spirit almost continually; but I knew it not distinctly, so as to turn to it and give up to it entirely and understandingly. In this temper of mind I earnestly sought after the Lord, applying myself to hear sermons and read the best books I could meet with, but especially the Scriptures, which were very sweet and savoury to me. Yea, I very earnestly desired and pressed after the knowledge of the Scriptures, but was much afraid of receiving men's interpretations of them, or of fastening any interpretations upon them myself; but waited much and prayed much that from the Spirit of the Lord I might receive the true understanding of them, and that he would endue me with that knowledge which I might feel to be sanctifying and saving."

" 1

It would be difficult to find an account of the strivings of God with the soul of man-not merely at that period but at any period—in language more quaintly beautiful than is here employed. Isaac Pennington passed through severe mental exercises, and had painful conflicts with errors regarding the government of God, condemned under the word Calvinism, but 1 "The Penns and the Penningtons,” p. 67.

which many Calvinists so called, at that day and in this, would as strongly repudiate as he did.

His father had no sympathy with him in all this, and wrote controversial letters, provoked by the son's expostulations, which were not always in the best taste. The differences between father and son would constitute a basis for sympathetic friendship with William Penn.

Mary Pennington, Isaac's wife, had been led along a somewhat similar path of experience by the same gracious Spirit. She had been of a timid disposition, and had often repeated the Lord's Prayer as a charm to ward off evil; but when eight years old she heard a sermon upon "Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after righteousness," which was as "the day dawn and the day star" arising in her heart. She could not enjoy the service of Common Prayer in the Church of England, and longed for the free utterance of her desires at the throne of grace. She tried the Puritans, and still found no satisfaction. After a series of extraordinary circumstances, to be mentioned presently, she became acquainted with Isaac Pennington. "My love was drawn to him," she says, "because I found he saw the deceit of all men's notions about religion. He lay as one that refused to be comforted, until he came to His temple 'who is truth and no lie.' All things that had only the appearance of religion were very manifest to him, so that he was sick and weary of them; in this my heart united with him, and a desire was in me to be serviceable to him in this his desolate condition; for he was as one alone, and felt miserable in the world."

Dr. Watts has ingeniously versified the theory that souls are mated in heaven, but often miss their mates in travelling earthward. Here, if ever, two kindred spirits really became one; and it is very beautiful to watch them striving to get at the heart of things, to pierce the shell and reach the very kernel of truth, to break the pitcher and bring out the burning lamp.

Both had heard of Quakers, but she knew nothing of their ways, except that they used "thee" and "thou" to everybody. At length, as they were walking together, they met with a Friend, who entered into conversation with them, and so they were led into acquaintance with the people for whom by the previous workings of their minds they had been prepared—and with whom they became identified to the end of life.

After marriage they went, about 1658, to live at Chalfont St. Peter's, a pleasant village in one of the retired nooks of Buckinghamshire, and there they dwelt in a charming, quiet home until 1665, when their nest was torn up by persecution; the husband was thrown into prison, the wife was driven into the world, a wandering pilgrim, yet ever on her way to the shrine above.

Probably, when troubles overtook them, they became acquainted with William Penn. He knew the heart of a prisoner for conscience' sake. He and Pennington were brothers and companions "in tribulation and in the kingdom and patience of Jesus Christ."

In 1668 they were attached friends, as appears from this interesting letter: "I understand, through thy dear wife, of thy desire to be informed concerning the sickness and death of dear Thomas Loe. It was thus: When George Whitehead, Thomas Loe, and