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TO A FRIEND IN LONDON; SUPPOSED TO BE WRITTEN ON OCCASION OF THE PLAGUE

AH! FRIEND,

Dreadful is the Lord: it is now known and felt, beyond what can be spoken. Doth thy heart fear before him? art thou willing to be subject to him? dost thou desire strength from him, to trust thyself and thy family with him? Oh that thou mayst be helped daily to cry unto him, that he may have mercy upon thee, who is tender-hearted and able to preserve, when his arrows fly round about!

Retire, deeply retire, and wait to feel his life; that thy soul may be gathered out of the reasonings and thoughts of thy mind, into that which stays from them, and fixes beneath them; where the Lord is known and worshipped, in that which is of himself, of his own begetting, of his own forming, of his own preserving, of his own shutting and opening at his pleasure. And, living in the sense and pure fear of the Lord (not meddling to judge others or justify thyself, but waiting for his appearance in thee, who is the justifier and justification), thou wilt be enabled by the Lord, in his seasons, to bring thy children and family into the same sense; that thou and they together may enjoy the same preservation from him, so far as he sees meet, whose will is not to be limited, but to be subjected to.

And if thy heart be right before the Lord, and thy soul awakened and preserved in his fear, thou wilt find somewhat to travel out of, and somewhat to travel into, and the Lord drawing and leading thee. And this stroke, which is so dreadful to others, nor altogether without dread to thee, will prove of great advantage in thy behalf; in drawing thee more into a sense and acquaintance of the infinite One, and in drawing thee from thy earthly thoughts and knowledge, which will not now stand thee in stead.

Thy Friend,

I. P.

8th of Seventh Month, 1665

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