w2
WORTHY SIR,—Grace, mercy, and peace be to you. I long for the time when I shall see the beauty of the Lord in His house; and would be as glad of it as of any sight on earth, to see the halt, the blind, and the lame, come back to Zion with supplications (Jer. xxxi. 8, 9), "Going and weeping, and seeking the Lord; asking the way to Zion, with their faces thitherward" (Jer. l. 4, 5); and to see the Woman travailing in birth, delivered of the man-child of a blessed reformation. If this land were humbled, I would look that our skies should clear, and our day dawn again; and ye should then bless Christ, who is content to save your travel, and to give Himself to you, in pure ordinances, on this side of the sea. I know the mercy of Christ is engaged by promise to Scotland, notwithstanding He bring wrath, as I fear He will, upon this land.
I am waiting on for enlargement, and half content that my faith bow, if Christ, while He bow it, keep it unbroken; for who goeth through a fire without a mark or a scald? I see the Lord making use of this fire, to scour His vessels from their rust. Oh that my will were silent, and "as a child weaned from the breasts"! (Ps. cxxxi.). But, alas! who hath a heart that will give Christ the last word in flyting, and will hear and not speak again? Oh! contestations and quarrelous replies (as a soon-saddled spirit, "I do well to be angry, even to the death") (Jonah iv. 9) smell of the stink of strong corruption. O blessed soul, that could sacrifice his will, and go to heaven, having lost his will and made resignation of it to Christ! I would seek no more than that Christ were absolute King over my will, and that my will were a sufferer in all crosses, without meeting Christwith such a word, "Why is it thus?" I wish still, that my love had but leave to stand beside beautiful Jesus, and to get the mercy of looking to Him, and burning for Him, suppose that possession of Him were suspended, and fristed till my Lord fold together the leaves and two sides of the little shepherds' tents of clay. Oh, what pain is in longing for Christ, under an over-clouded and eclipsed assurance! What is harder than to burn and dwine with longing and deaths of love, and then to have blanks and uninked paper for[307]assurance of Christ in real fruition or possession? Oh how sweet were one line, or half a letter, of a written assurance under Christ's own hand! But this is our exercise daily, that guiltiness shall overmist and darken assurance. It is a miracle to believe; but, for a sinner to believe, is two miracles. But oh, what obligations of love are we under to Christ, who beareth with our wild apprehensions, in suffering them to nickname sweet Jesus, and to put a lie upon His good name! If He had not been God, and if long-suffering in Christ were not like Christ Himself, we should long ago have broken Christ's mercies in two pieces, and put an iron bar on our salvation, that mercy should not have been able to break or overleap. But long-suffering in God is God Himself; and that is our salvation; and the stability of our heaven is in God. He knew who said, "Christ in you the hope of glory" (Col. i. 27) (for our hope, and the bottom and pillars of it, is Christ-God!), that sinners are anchor-fast, and made stable in God. So that if God do not change (which is impossible), then my hope shall not fluctuate. Oh, sweet stability of sure-bottomed salvation! Who could win heaven, if this were not so? and who could be saved, if God were not God, and if He were not such a God as He is? Oh, God be thanked that our salvation is coasted, and landed, and shored upon Christ, who is Master of winds and storms! And what sea-winds can blow the coast or the land out of its place? Bulwarks are often casten down, but coasts are not removed: but suppose that were or might be, yet God cannot reel nor remove. Oh that we go from this strong and immoveable Lord, and that we loosen ourselves (if it were in our power) from Him! Alas! our green and young love hath not taken with Christ, being unacquainted with Him. He is such a wide, and broad, and deep, and high, and surpassing sweetness, that our love is too little for Him. But oh, if our love, little as it is, could take band with His great and huge sweetness, andtranscendent excellency! Oh, thrice blessed, and eternally blessed are they, who are out of themselves, and above themselves, that they may be in love united to Him!
I am often rolling up and down the thoughts of my faint and sick desires of expressing Christ's glory before His people. But I see not through the throng of impediments, and cannot find eyes to look higher; and so I put many things in Christ's way to hinder Him, that I know He would but laugh at, and with one stride set His foot over them all. I know not if my Lord will bring me to His sanctuary or not; but I know that He hath the placing of me, either within or without the house, and that nothing will be done without Him. But I am often thinking and saying within myself, that my days flee away, and I see no good, neither yet Christ's work thriving; and it is like that the grave shall prevent[308]the answer of my desires of saving souls as I would. But, alas! I cannot make right work of His ways; I neither spell nor read my Lord's providence aright. My thoughts go away that I fear they meet not God; for it is likely that God will not come the way of my thoughts. And I cannot be taught to crucify to Him my wisdom and desires, and to make Him King over my thoughts; for I would have a princedom over my thoughts, and would boldly and blindly prescribe to God, and guide myself in a way of my own making. But I hold my peace here; let Him do His will.
Grace, grace be with you.
Yours, in his sweetest Lord and Master,
S. R.
Aberdeen, 1637.
[The name of the person to whom this letter is addressed, was Robert Brown of Carsluth. He was a man of considerable property in the part of the country where Rutherford's lot was cast previous to his imprisonment. He must have died about the beginning of the year 1658, as on the 27th of April, that year, Thomas Brown of Carsluth is retoured heir of Robert Brown of Carsluth, his father, in the 7 merkland of Carsluth, etc. ("Inq. Retor. Abbrev. Kirkcud."). Brown of Carsluth was an ancient family. Gilbert Brown, abbot of New Abbey, near Dumfries, who disputed with John Welsh, was of the family.On the shore of Wigtown Bay, not far from Creetown, you see the old tower-like house, with a farm, well wooded. It is near the modern residence of Kirkdale.]
[The name of the person to whom this letter is addressed, was Robert Brown of Carsluth. He was a man of considerable property in the part of the country where Rutherford's lot was cast previous to his imprisonment. He must have died about the beginning of the year 1658, as on the 27th of April, that year, Thomas Brown of Carsluth is retoured heir of Robert Brown of Carsluth, his father, in the 7 merkland of Carsluth, etc. ("Inq. Retor. Abbrev. Kirkcud."). Brown of Carsluth was an ancient family. Gilbert Brown, abbot of New Abbey, near Dumfries, who disputed with John Welsh, was of the family.
On the shore of Wigtown Bay, not far from Creetown, you see the old tower-like house, with a farm, well wooded. It is near the modern residence of Kirkdale.]
m
MUCH HONOURED SIR,—I long to hear how your soul prospereth. I earnestly desire you to try how matters stand between your soul and the Lord. Think it no easy matter to take heaven by violence. Salvation cometh now to the most part of men in a night-dream. There is no scarcity of faith now, such as it is; for ye shall not now light upon the man who will not say he hath faith in Christ. But, alas! dreams make no man's rights.
Worthy Sir, I beseech you in the Lord to give your soul no rest till ye have real assurance, and Christ's rights confirmed and sealed to your soul. The common faith, and country-holiness, and week-day zeal, that is among people, will never bring men to heaven. Take pains for your salvation; for in that day, when ye shall see many men's labours and conquests and idol-riches lying in ashes, when the earth and all the works thereof shall be burnt with fire, oh how dear a price would your soul give for God's favour in Christ! It is a blessed thing to see Christ with up-sun, and to read over your papers and soul-accounts with fair day-light. It will not be time to cry for a lamp when the Bridegroom is entered into His chamber, and the door shut. Fy, fy upon blinded and debased souls, who are committing whoredom with this idol-clay, and hunting a poor, wretched, hungry heaven, a hungry breakfast, a day's meat from this hungry world, with the forfeiting of God's favour, and thedrinking overtheir heaven (over the board, as men used to speak), for the laughter and sports of this short forenoon! All that is under this vault of heaven, and betwixt us and death, and on this side of sun and moon, is but toys, night-visions, head-fancies, poor shadows, watery froth, godless vanities at their best, and black hearts, and salt and sour miseries, sugared over and confected with an hour's laughter or two, and the conceit of riches, honour, vain, vain court, and lawless pleasures. Sir, if ye look both to the laughing side and to the weeping side of this world, and if ye look not only upon the skin and colour of things, but into their inwards, and the heart of their excellency, ye shall see that one look of Christ's sweet and lovely eye, one kiss of His fairest face, is worth ten thousand worlds of such rotten stuff, as the foolish sons of men set their hearts upon. Oh, Sir, turn,turn your heart to the other side of things, and get it once free of these entanglements, to consider eternity, death, the clay bed, the grave, awsome judgment, everlasting burning quick in hell, where death would give as great a price (if there were a market, wherein death might be bought and sold) as all the world. Consider heaven and glory. But, alas! why speak I of considering those things, which have not entered into the heart of man to consider? Look into those depths (without a bottom) of loveliness, sweetness, beauty, excellency, glory, goodness, grace, and mercy, that are in Christ; and ye shall then cry down the whole world, and all the glory of it, even when it is come to the summer-bloom; and ye shall cry, "Up with Christ, up with Christ's Father, up with eternity of glory!" Sir, there is a great deal less sand in your glass than when I saw you, and your afternoon is nearer even-tide now than it was. As a flood carried back to the sea, so doth the Lord's swift post, Time, carry you and your life with wings to the grave. Ye eat and drink, but time standeth not still; ye laugh, but your day fleeth away; ye sleep, but your hours are reckoned and put by hand. Oh how soon will time shut you out of the poor, and cold, and hungry inn of this life! And then what will yesterday's short-born pleasures do to you, but be as a snow-ball melted away many years since? Or worse! for the memory of these pleasures useth to fill the soul with bitterness. Time and experience will prove this to be true; and dying men, if they could speak, would make this good. Lay no more on the creatures than they are able to carry. Lay your soul and your weights upon God. Make Him your only, only Best-beloved. Your errand to this life is to make sure an eternity of glory to your soul, and to match your soul with Christ. Your love, if it were more than all the love of angels in one, is Christ's due: other things worthy in themselves, in respect of Christ, are not worth a windlestraw, or a drink of cold water. I doubt not but in death ye shall see all things more distinctly, and that then the world shall bear no more bulk than it is worth, and that then it shall couch and be contracted into nothing; and ye shall see Christ longer, higher, broader, and deeper than ever He was. O blessed conquest, to lose all things, and to gain Christ! I know not what ye have, if ye want Christ! Alas! how poor is your gain, if the earth were all yours in free heritage, holding it of no man of clay, if Christ be not yours! Oh, seek all midses, lay all oars in the water, put forth all your power, andbend all your endeavours, to put away and part with all things, that ye may gain and enjoy Christ. Try and search His word, and strive to go a step above and beyond ordinary professors; and resolve to sweat more and run faster than they do, for salvation. Men's midway, cold, and wise courses in godliness, and their neighbour-like, cold, and wise pace to heaven, will cause many a man to want his lodging at night, and to lie in the fields. I recommend Christ and His love to your seeking; and yourself to the tender mercy and rich grace of our Lord.
Remember my love in Christ to your wife. I desire her to learn to make her soul's anchor fast upon Christ Himself. Few are saved. Let her consider what joy the smiles of God in Christ will be, and what the love-kisses of sweet, sweet Jesus, and a welcome home to the New Jerusalem from Christ's own mouth will be to her soul, when Christ will fold together the clay tent of her body, and lay it by His hand for a time, till the fair morning of the general resurrection. I avouch before God, man, and angel, that I have not seen, nor can imagine, a lover to be comparable to lovely Jesus. I would not exchange or niffer Him with ten heavens. If heaven could be without Him, what could we do there? Grace, grace be with you.
Your soul's eternal well-wisher,
S. R.
Aberdeen, 1637.
[The mansion of Cassincarrie is a mile from Creetown, in Kirkmabreck parish. It stands near the road, just after you pass the stone quarries that help to build Liverpool. It is so directly opposite Wigtown, that from the windows we might suppose the godly proprietor looking across, and praying for the martyrs Margaret Wilson and Margaret M'Lachlan, in 1685.[309]This correspondent of Rutherford was probably the son of John Mure of Cassincarrie, who was the second son of John Mure of Rowallan. Had he been John Mure of Cassincarrie, elder, he would now have been on the borders of ninety years of age, as his eldest brother, William Mure of Rowallan, died in 1616, aged sixty-nine; and in that case, Rutherford would doubtless have enforced his solemn admonitions by pointed allusions to his advanced period of life. His son, therefore, is very likely the person to whom this letter is addressed (Robertson's "Ayrshire Families," vol. iii. p. 361).]
[The mansion of Cassincarrie is a mile from Creetown, in Kirkmabreck parish. It stands near the road, just after you pass the stone quarries that help to build Liverpool. It is so directly opposite Wigtown, that from the windows we might suppose the godly proprietor looking across, and praying for the martyrs Margaret Wilson and Margaret M'Lachlan, in 1685.[309]This correspondent of Rutherford was probably the son of John Mure of Cassincarrie, who was the second son of John Mure of Rowallan. Had he been John Mure of Cassincarrie, elder, he would now have been on the borders of ninety years of age, as his eldest brother, William Mure of Rowallan, died in 1616, aged sixty-nine; and in that case, Rutherford would doubtless have enforced his solemn admonitions by pointed allusions to his advanced period of life. His son, therefore, is very likely the person to whom this letter is addressed (Robertson's "Ayrshire Families," vol. iii. p. 361).]
m
MUCH HONOURED SIR,—Grace, mercy, and peace be to you. I have been too long in writing to you. I am confident that ye have learned to prize Christ, and His love and favour, more than ordinary professors who scarce see Christ with half an eye, because their sight is taken up with eyeing and liking the beauty of this over-gilded world, that promiseth fair to all its lovers, but in the push of a trial, when need is, can give nothing but a fair beguile.
I know that ye are not ignorant that men come not to this world, as some do to a market, to see and to be seen; or as some come to behold a May-game, and only to behold, and to go home again. Ye come hither to treat with God, and to tryst with Him in His Christ for salvation to your soul, and to seek reconciliation with an angry, wrathful God, in a covenant of peace made to you in Christ; and this is more than ordinary sport, or the play that the greatest part of the world give their heart unto. And, therefore, worthy Sir, I pray you, by the salvation of your soul, and by the mercy of God, and your compearance before Christ, do this in sad earnest, and let not salvation be your by-work or your holy-day's talk only, or a work by the way. For men think that this may be done on three days' space on a feather bed, when death and they are fallen in hands together, and that with a word or two they shall make their soul-matters right. Alas! this is to sit loose and unsure in the matters of our salvation. Nay, the seeking of this world, and of the glory of it, is but an odd[310]and by-errand that we may slip, so being we make salvation sure. Oh, when will men learn to be that heavenly-wise as to divorce from and free their soul of all idol-lovers, and make Christ the only, only One, and trim and make ready their lamps, while they have time and day! How soon will this house skail, and the inn, where the poor soul lodgeth, fall to the earth! How soon will some few years pass away! and then, when the day is ended, and this life's lease expired, what have men of world's glory but dreams and thoughts? Oh how blessed a thing is it to labour for Christ, and to make Him sure! Know and try in time your holding of Him, and the rights and charters of heaven, and upon what terms ye have Christ and the Gospel, and what Christ is worth in your estimation, and how lightly ye esteemother things, and how dearly Christ! I am sure, that if ye see Him in His beauty and glory, ye shall see Him to be all things, and that incomparable jewel of gold that ye should seek, howbeit ye should sell, wadset, and forfeit your few years' portion of this life's joys. O happy soul for evermore, who can rightly compare this life with that long-lasting life to come, and can balance the weighty glory of the one with the light golden vanity of the other! The day of the Lord is now near-hand, and all men shall come out in their blacks and whites, as they are; there shall be no borrowed lying colours in that day, when Christ shall be called Christ, and no longer nicknamed. Now men borrow Christ and His white colour, and the lustre and farding of Christianity; but how many counterfeit masks will be burned, in the day of God, in the fire that shall burn the earth and the works that are on it? And howbeit Christ have the hardest part of it now, yet in the presence of my Lord, whom I serve in the spirit, I would not niffer or exchange Christ's prison, bonds, and chains, with the gold chains and lordly rents, and smiling and happy-like heavens of the men of this world. I am far from thoughts of repenting because of my losses and bonds for Christ. I wish that all my adversaries were as I am, except my bonds. Worthy, worthy, worthy for evermore is Christ, for whom we should suffer pains like hell's pains; far more the short hell that the saints of God have in this life. Sir, I wish that your soul may be more acquainted with the sweetness of Christ. Grace, grace be with you.
Yours in his only Lord and Master,
S. R.
Aberdeen, 1637.
m
MISTRESS,—I beseech you in the Lord Jesus to make every day more and more of Christ; and try your growth in the grace of God, and what new ground ye win daily on corruption. For travellers are day by day either advancing farther on, and nearer home, or else they go not right about to compass their journey.
I think still the better and better of Christ. Alas! I know not where to set Him, I would so fain have Him high! I cannot set heavens above heavens till I were tired with numbering,and set Him upon the highest step and storey of the highest of them all; but I wish I could make Him great through the world, suppose my loss, and pain, and shame were set under the soles of His feet, that He might stand upon me.
I request that you faint not; because this world and ye are at yea and nay, and because this is not a home that laugheth upon you. The wise Lord, who knoweth you, will have it so, because He casteth a net for your love, to catch it and gather it in to Himself. Therefore, bear patiently the loss of children, and burdens, and other discontentments, either within or without the house: your Lord in them is seeking you, and seek ye Him. Let none be your love and choice, and the flower of your delights, but your Lord Jesus. Set not your heart upon the world, since God hath not made it your portion; for it will not fall to you to get two portions, and to rejoice twice, and to be happy twice, and to have an upper heaven, and an under heaven too. Christ our Lord, and His saints, were not so; and, therefore, let go your grip of this life, and of the good things of it: I hope that your heaven groweth not hereaway. Learn daily both to possess and miss Christ, in His secret bridegroom-smiles. He must go and come, because His infinite wisdom thinketh it best for you. We shall be together one day. We shall not need to borrow light from sun, moon, or candle. There shall be no complaints on either side, in heaven. There shall be none there, but He and we, the Bridegroom and the bride; devils, temptations, trials, desertions, losses, sad hearts, pain, and death, shall be all put out of play; and the devil must give up his office of tempting. Oh, blessed is the soul whose hope hath a face looking straight out to that day. It is not our part to make a treasure here; anything, under the covering of heaven, which we can build upon, is but ill ground and a sandy foundation. Every good thing, except God, wanteth a bottom, and cannot stand its lone; how then can it bear the weight of us? Let us not lay a load on a windlestraw. There shall nothing find my weight, or found my happiness, but God. I know that all created power would sink under me, if I should lean down upon it; and, therefore, it is better to rest on God, than to sink or fall; and we weak souls must have a bottom and a being-place, for we cannot stand our lone. Let us then be wise in our choice, and choose and wale our own blessedness, which is to trust in the Lord. Each one of us hath a whore and idol, besides our Husband Christ; but it is our folly to divide ournarrow and little love; it will not serve two. It is best then to hold it whole and together, and to give it to Christ; for we get double interest for our love, when we lend it to, and lay it upon Christ; and we are sure, besides, that the stock cannot perish.
Now I can say no more. Remember me. I have God's right to that people; howbeit by the violence of men, stronger than I, I am banished from you, and chased away. The Lord give you mercy in the day of Christ. It may be that God will clear my sky again; howbeit there is small appearance of my deliverance. But let Him do with me what seemeth good in His own eyes. I am His clay; let my Potter frame and fashion me as He pleaseth. Grace be with you.
Your lawful and loving pastor,
S. R.
Aberdeen, 1637.
m
MISTRESS,—Grace, mercy, and peace be to you. I can bear witness in my bonds, that Christ is still the longer the better; and no worse, yea, inconceivably better than He is (or can be) called. I think it half a heaven to have my fill of the smell of His sweet breath, and to sleep in the arms of Christ my Lord, with His left hand under my head and His right hand embracing me. There is no great reckoning to be made of the withering of my flower, in comparison of the foul and manifest wrongs done to Christ. Nay, let never the dew of God lie upon my branches again, let the bloom fall from my joy, and let it wither, let the Almighty blow out my candle, so being the Lord might be great among Jews and Gentiles, and His oppressed church delivered. Let Christ fare well, suppose I should eat ashes. I know that He must be sweet Himself, when His cross is so sweet. And it is the part of us all, if we marry Himself, to marry the crosses, losses, and reproaches also, that follow Him. For mercy followeth Christ's cross. His prison, for beauty, is made of marble and ivory; His chains, that are laid on His prisoners, are golden chains; and the sighs of the prisoners of hope are perfumed with comforts, the like whereof cannot be bred or found on this side of sun and moon. Follow on after His love; tire not of Christ, but come in, and see His beauty and excellency, and feed your soul upon Christ's sweetness. This world is not yours,neither would I have your heaven made of such metal as mire and clay. Ye have the choice and wale of all lovers in heaven or out of heaven, when ye have Christ, the only delight of God His Father. Climb up the mountain with joy, and faint not; for time will cut off the men who pursue Christ's followers. Our best things here have a worm in them; our joys, besides God, in the inner half are but woes and sorrows. Christ, Christ is that which our love and desires can sleep sweetly and rest safely upon.
Now the very God of peace establish you in Christ. Help a prisoner with your prayers, and entreat that our Lord would be pleased to visit me with a sight of His beauty in His house, as He has sometimes done. Grace be with you.
Yours, in his sweet Jesus,
S. R.
Aberdeen, 1637.
R
REVEREND AND DEAR BROTHER,—Who knoweth but the wind may turn into the west again, upon Christ and His desolate bride in this land; and that Christ may get His summer by course again? For He hath had ill-weather this long time, and could not find law or justice for Himself and His truth these many years. I am sure the wheels of this crazed and broken kirk run all upon no other axle-tree, nor is there any other to roll them, and cog them, and drive them, than the wisdom and good pleasure of our Lord. And it were a just trick and glorious of never-sleeping Providence, to bring our brethren's darts, which they have shot at us, back upon their own heads. Suppose they have two strings to their bow, and can take one as another faileth them, yet there are more than three strings upon our Lord's bow; and, besides, He cannot miss the white that He shooteth at. I know that He shuffleth up and down in His hand the great body of heaven and earth; and that kirk and commonwealth are, in His hand, like a stock of cards, and that He dealeth the play to the mourners of Zion, and to those that say, "Lie down, that we may go over you," at His own sovereign pleasure: and I am sure that Zion's adversaries, in this play, shall not take up their own stakes again. Oh how sweet a thing is it to trust in Him! When Christ hath sleeped out His sleep (if I may speak so of Him who is the Watchman of Israel, that neither slumberethnor sleepeth), and His own are tried, He will arise as a strong man after wine, and make bare His holy arm, and put on vengeance as a cloak, and deal vengeance, thick and double, amongst the haters of Zion. It may be that we may see Him sow and send down maledictions and vengeances as thick as drops of rain or hail upon His enemies; for our Lord oweth them a black day, and He useth duly to pay His debts. Neither His friend and followers, nor His foes and adversaries shall have it to say, "That He is not faithful and exact in keeping His word."
I know of no bar in God's way but Scotland's guiltiness; and He can come over that impediment, and break that bar also, and then say to guilty Scotland, as He said, "Not for your sakes" (Ezek. xxxvi. 22, 23), etc. On-waiting had ever yet a blessed issue; and to keep the word of God's patience, keepeth still the saints dry in the water, cold in the fire, and breathing and blood-hot in the grave. What are prisons of iron walls, and gates of brass, to Christ? Not so good as fail dykes, fortifications of straw, or old tottering walls. If He give the word, then chains will fall off the arms and legs of His prisoners. God be thanked, that our Lord Jesus hath the tutoring of king, and court, and nobles; and that He can dry the gutters and the mires in Zion, and lay causeways to the temple with the carcases of bastard lord-prelates and idol shepherds. The corn on the housetops got never the husbandman's prayers, and so is seen[311]on it, for it filleth not the hand of mowers. Christ, and truth, and innocency, worketh even under the earth; and verily there is hope for the righteous. We see not what conclusions pass in heaven anent all the affairs of God's house. We need not give hire to God to take vengeance of His enemies, for justice worketh without hire. Oh that the seed of hope would grow again, and come to maturity! and that we would importune Christ, and double our knocks at His gate, and cast our cries and shouts over the wall, that He might come out, and make our Jerusalem the praise of the whole earth, and give us salvation for walls and bulwarks! If Christ bud, and grow green, and bloom, and bear seed again in Scotland, and His Father send Him two summers in one year, and bless His crop, what cause have we to rejoice in the free salvation of our Lord, and to set up our banners in the name of our God! Oh that He would hasten the confusion of the leprous strumpet, the mother and mistress of abominations in the earth, and take graven images out of the way, and come in with the Jews introops, and agree with His old outcast and forsaken wife, and take them again to His bed of love. Grace be with you.
Yours, in our Master and Lord,
S. R.
Aberdeen, 1637.
[She was wife of the proprietor of Castermadie, in the Stewartry of Kirkcudbright. The place was called alsoLargero, or Largerie, in the parish of Twynholm, near Kirkcudbright.]
[She was wife of the proprietor of Castermadie, in the Stewartry of Kirkcudbright. The place was called alsoLargero, or Largerie, in the parish of Twynholm, near Kirkcudbright.]
m
MISTRESS,—Grace, mercy, and peace be to you. I exhort you in the Lord, to go on in your journey to heaven; and to be content with such fare by the way as Christ and His followers have had before you; for they had always the wind on their faces, and our Lord hath not changed the way to us for our ease, but will have us following our sweet Guide. Alas, how doth sin clog us in our journey, and retard us! What fools are we, to have a by-good, or any other love, or match, to our souls, beside Christ! It were best for us, like ill bairns, who are best heard at home, to seek our own home, and to sell our hopes of this little clay inn and idol of the earth, where we are neither well summered nor well wintered. Oh that our souls would so fall at odds with the love of this world, as to think of it as a traveller doth of a drink of water, which is not any part of his treasure, but goeth away with the using! for ten miles' journey maketh that drink to him as nothing. Oh that we had as soon done with this world, and could as quickly despatch the love of it! But as a child cannot hold two apples in his little hand, but the one putteth the other out of its room, so neither can we be masters and lords of two loves. Blessed were we, if we could make ourselves master of that invaluable treasure, the love of Christ; or rather suffer ourselves to be mastered and subdued to Christ's love, so as Christ were our "all things," and all other things our nothings, and the refuse of our delights. Oh let us be ready for shipping, against the time our Lord's wind and tide call for us! Death is the last thief, that will come without din or noise of feet, and take our souls away, and we shall take our leave of time, and face eternity; and our Lord will lay together the two sides of this earthly tabernacle, and fold us, and lay us by, as a manlayeth by clothes at night, and put the one half of us in a house of clay, the dark grave, and the other half of us in heaven or hell. Seek to be found of your Lord in peace, and gather in your flitting, and put your soul in order; for Christ will not give a nail-breadth of time to our little sand-glass.
Pray for Zion, and for me, His prisoner, that He would be pleased to bring me amongst you again, full of Christ, and fraughted and loaden with the blessing of His Gospel.
Grace, grace be with you.
Yours, in his only Lord and Master,
S. R.
Aberdeen, 1637.
w2
WORTHY AND DEARLY BELOVED IN OUR LORD,—Grace, mercy, and peace be to you.—I long to hear from you. I remain still a prisoner of hope, and do think it service to the Lord to wait on still with submission, till the Lord's morning sky break, and His summer day dawn. For I am persuaded that it is a piece of the chief errand of our life (on which God sent us for some years, down to this earth, among devils and men, the firebrands of the devil, and temptations), that we might suffer for a time here amongst our enemies; otherwise He might have made heaven to wait on us, at our coming out of the womb, and have carried us home to our country, without letting us set down our feet in this knotty and thorny life. But seeing a piece of suffering is carved to every one of us, less or more, as infinite Wisdom hath thought good, our part is to harden and habituate our soft and thin-skinned nature to endure fire and water, devils, lions, men, losses, wo hearts, as those that are looked upon by God, angels, men, and devils. Oh, what folly is it, to sit down and weep upon a decree of God, that is both deaf and dumb to our tears, and must stand still as unmoveable as God who made it! For who can come behind our Lord, to alter or better what He hath decreed and done? It were better to make windows in our prison, and to look out to God and our country, heaven, and to cry like fettered men who long for the King's free air, "Lord, let Thy kingdom come! Oh, let the Bridegroom come! And, O day,O fair day, O everlasting summer day, dawn and shine out, break out from under the black night sky, and shine!" I am persuaded that, if every day a little stone in the prison-walls were broken, and thereby assurance given to the chained prisoner, lying under twenty stone of irons upon arms and legs, that at length his chain should wear into two pieces, and a hole should be made at length as wide as he might come safely over to his long-desired liberty; he would, in patience, wait on, till time should hole the prison-wall and break his chains. The Lord's hopeful prisoners, under their trials, are in that case. Years and months will take out, now one little stone, then another, of this house of clay; and at length time shall win out the breadth of a fair door, and send out the imprisoned soul to the free air in heaven. And time shall file off, by little and little, our iron bolts which are now on legs and arms, and outdate and wear our troubles threadbare and holey, and then wear them to nothing; for what I suffered yesterday, I know, shall never come again to trouble me.
Oh that we could breathe out new hope, and new submission every day, into Christ's lap! For, certainly, a weight of glory well weighed, yea, increasing to a far more exceeding and eternal weight, shall recompense both weight and length of light, and clipped, and short-dated crosses. Our waters are but ebb, and come neither to our chin, nor to the stopping of our breath. I may see (if I would borrow eyes from Christ) dry land, and that near. Why then should we not laugh at adversity, and scorn our short-born and soon-dying temptations? I rejoice in the hope of that glory to be revealed, for it is no uncertain glory which we look for. Our hope is not hung upon such an untwisted thread as, "I imagine so," or "It is likely;" but the cable, the strong towe of our fastened anchor, is the oath and promise of Him who is eternal verity. Our salvation is fastened with God's own hand, and with Christ's own strength, to the strong stoup of God's unchangeable nature, "I am the Lord, I change not; therefore ye sons of Jacob are not consumed" (Mal. iii. 6). We may play, and dance, and leap upon our worthy and immoveable Rock. The ground is sure and good, and will bide hell's brangling, and devils' brangling, and the world's assaults.
Oh, if our faith could ride it out against the high and proud waves and winds, when our sea seemeth to be all on fire! Oh, how oft do I let my grips go! I am put to swimming and half sinking. I find that the devil hath the advantage of the groundin this battle; for he fighteth on known ground, in our corrupt nature. Alas! that is a friend near of kin and blood to himself, and will not fail to fall foul upon us. And hence it is, that He who saveth to the uttermost, and leadeth many sons to glory, is still righting my salvation; and twenty times a-day I ravel my heaven, and then I must come with my ill-ravelled work to Christ, to cumber Him (as it were) to right it, and to seek again the right end of the thread, and to fold up again my eternal glory with His own hand, and to give a right cast of His holy and gracious hand to my marred and spilled salvation. Certainly it is a cumbersome thing to keep a foolish child from falls, and broken brows, and weeping for this and that toy, and rash running, and sickness, and bairns' diseases; ere he win through them all, and win out of the mires, he costeth meikle black cumber and fashery to his keepers. And so is a believer a cumbersome piece of work, and an ill-ravelled hesp (as we use to say), to Christ. But God be thanked; for many spilled salvations, and many ill-ravelled hesps hath Christ mended, since first He entered Tutor to lost mankind. Oh, what could we bairns do without Him! How soon would we mar all! But the less of our weight be upon our own feeble legs, and the more that we be on Christ the strong Rock, the better for us. It is good for us that ever Christ took the cumber of us; it is our heaven to lay many weights and burdens upon Christ, and to make Him all we have, root and top, beginning and ending of our salvation. Lord, hold us here.
Now to this Tutor, and rich Lord, I recommend you. Hold fast till He come; and remember His prisoner.
Grace, grace be with you.
Yours, in his and your Lord Jesus,
S. R.
Aberdeen, 1637.
R
REVEREND AND DEAR BROTHER,—Grace, mercy, and peace be to you.—I received your letter. I bless our high and only wise Lord, who hath broken the snare that men had laid for you; and I hope that now He will keep you in His house, in despite of the powers of hell. Who knoweth, but the streets of our Jerusalem shall yetbe filled with young men, and with old men, and boys, and women with child? and that they shall plant vines in the mountains of Samaria? I am sure that the wheels, paces, and motions of this poor church are tempered and ruled, not as men would, but according to the good pleasure and infinite wisdom of our only wise Lord.
I am here, waiting in hope that my innocency, in this honourable cause, shall melt this cloud that men have casten over me. I know that my Lord had His own quarrels against me, and that my dross stood in need of this hot furnace. But I rejoice in this, that fair truth, beautiful truth (whose glory my Lord cleareth to me more and more), beareth me company; that my weak aims to honour my Master, in bringing guests to His house, now swell upon me in comforts; that I am not afraid to want a witness in heaven; and that it was my joy to have a crown put upon Christ's head in that country. Oh, what joy would I have, to see the wind turn upon the enemies of the cross of Christ, and to see my Lord Jesus restored, with the voice of praise, to His own free throne again! and to be brought amongst you, to see the beauty of the Lord's house!
I hope that country will not be so silly as to suffer men to pluck you away from them; and that ye will use means to keep my place empty, and to bring me back again to the people to whom I have Christ's right, and His church's lawful calling.
Dear brother, let Christ be dearer and dearer to you. Let the conquest of souls be top and root, flower and bloom of your joys and desires, on this side of sun and moon. And in the day when the Lord shall pull up the four stakes of this clay tent of the earth, and the last pickle of sand shall be at the nick of falling down in your watch-glass, and the Master shall call the servants of the vineyard to give them their hire, ye will esteem the bloom of this world's glory like the colours of the rainbow, that no man can put into his purse and treasure. Your labour and pains will then smile upon you.
My Lord now hath given me experience (howbeit weak and small) that our best fare here is hunger. We are but at God's by-board in this lower house; we have cause to long for supper-time, and the high table, up in the high palace. This world deserveth nothing but the outer court of our soul. Lord, hasten the marriage-supper of the Lamb! I find it still peace to give up with this present world, as with an old decourted and cast off lover. My bread and drink in it is not so much worth,that I should not loathe the inns, and pack up my desires for Christ, whom[312]I have sent out to the feckless creatures in it.
Grace, grace be with you.
Your affectionate brother, and Christ's prisoner,
S. R.
Aberdeen, 1637.
[OfJohn Lennox, Laird of Cally, near Girthon, in the Stewartry of Kirkcudbright, to whom this letter is addressed, little is now known. He must have died previous to the 26th of January 1647, as at that date John Lennox of Cally is retoured heir of John Lennox of Cally, his father, "in the 20 pound land of Caliegertown, the 10 merk land of Burley, with mill and fishings of the same, within the parish of Girthon."The modern mansion of Cally may be said, with its woods, to overhang the village ofGatehouse, which also is entirely modern, and got its name from the fact that the lodge, or gatehouse, of Cally was the first house built on that spot. The old house has disappeared, any remnant of it being quite hid by the fine old trees of the mansion. It is properly in the parish of Girthon, but borders on Anwoth. The land of "Calie-gerton," mentioned in the above extract, is evidently "Cally in Girthon."Gatehouseis one-half in Anwoth, and one-half in Girthon. The old parish church of Girthon is very like that of Anwoth, and more ivy-covered. It is in shape the same, 64 feet by 20. The martyrLennoxis buried close to the door; a slab marks the spot. It is 21⁄2miles from Gatehouse. The Free Church of Anwoth is in Gatehouse, the church being on theGirthonside of the stream (the Fleet), and the manse on theAnwothside. The Fleet (which is navigable by very small vessels thus far) was formerly called Avon, "the water;" and this is the syllable that appears in both Girth-ONand An-WOTH,—the former signifying "the village (or enclosure) on the water;" and the latter, "thefordof the water;" unless "woth" be for "worth," village. The meaning of "Cally" seems to be "wood," from the Gaelic, "coille."]
[OfJohn Lennox, Laird of Cally, near Girthon, in the Stewartry of Kirkcudbright, to whom this letter is addressed, little is now known. He must have died previous to the 26th of January 1647, as at that date John Lennox of Cally is retoured heir of John Lennox of Cally, his father, "in the 20 pound land of Caliegertown, the 10 merk land of Burley, with mill and fishings of the same, within the parish of Girthon."
The modern mansion of Cally may be said, with its woods, to overhang the village ofGatehouse, which also is entirely modern, and got its name from the fact that the lodge, or gatehouse, of Cally was the first house built on that spot. The old house has disappeared, any remnant of it being quite hid by the fine old trees of the mansion. It is properly in the parish of Girthon, but borders on Anwoth. The land of "Calie-gerton," mentioned in the above extract, is evidently "Cally in Girthon."Gatehouseis one-half in Anwoth, and one-half in Girthon. The old parish church of Girthon is very like that of Anwoth, and more ivy-covered. It is in shape the same, 64 feet by 20. The martyrLennoxis buried close to the door; a slab marks the spot. It is 21⁄2miles from Gatehouse. The Free Church of Anwoth is in Gatehouse, the church being on theGirthonside of the stream (the Fleet), and the manse on theAnwothside. The Fleet (which is navigable by very small vessels thus far) was formerly called Avon, "the water;" and this is the syllable that appears in both Girth-ONand An-WOTH,—the former signifying "the village (or enclosure) on the water;" and the latter, "thefordof the water;" unless "woth" be for "worth," village. The meaning of "Cally" seems to be "wood," from the Gaelic, "coille."]