THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY. Princeton, N. J-
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Rutherford, Samuel, |
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1661. |
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Letters of the Rev. |
Samuel |
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Rutherford with an |
SELECT CHRISTIAN AUTHORS,
wiTi: IMRODUCTORr ESSAYS.
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3LISHEDBYWTI.LTAM OOLLINS GLASGOW
LETTERS
OF THE
V
REV. SAMUEL RUTHERFORD,
LATE PROFESSOR OF DIVINITY AT ST. ANDREWS.
WITH
AN INTRODUCTORY ESSAY,
BY
THOMAS ERSKINE, Es^.
ADVOCATE.
FOURTH EDITION.
GLASGOW.
PRINTED FOR WILLIAM COLLINS;
OLIVER & BOYD, WM. WHYTE & CO. AND \VM. OLIPHANT, EDINBURGH;
W. F. WAKEMAN, AND WM. CURRY, JUN. & CO. DUBLIN ;
WHITTAKER, TREACHER, & ARNOT ; HAMILTON, ADAMS, & CO.
AND 5IMPKIN & MARSHALL, LONDON.
M.DCCC.XXXIV.
Fruited by W. Collins & Co. Glasgow.
Vh.
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY.
To understand the doctrines of the Bible aright, it is of the greatest importance to form just ideas of what is meant by the word " salvation," as many of the practical errors into which men have fallen on the subject of Christianity, have arisen from a mis- conception of this term : some supposing it to refer merely to the pardon of sin, and others to an unde- fined happiness in a future state.
To assist our inquiries into this most interesting subject, it is of importance to examine the different passages of Scripture in which this term is used, and to compare it with other terms which are frequently employed as synonymous with it.
In Scripture, the term salvation, with its gram- matical branches, is applied to the bodies as well as to the souls of men. When applied to the body, it varies in its meaning according to the state or condition of those who are the subjects of it. These conditions are chiefly two; namely, first, a state of danger arising from causes external to the body, such as shipwreck, war, or famine ; and, secondly, a state of danger arising from disease within the body.
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First, When the term salvation is applied to per- sons in a state of danger from external causes, it means an external act, corresponding to the nature of the danger by which the cause of the danger is re- moved, and security restored. Thus, in the descrip- tion of the shipwreck, given in the 27th chapter of the Acts, the word ffw^w, is used to signify deliver- ance from the danger of the sea : " And when neither sun nor stars in many days appeared, and no small tempest lay on us, all hope that we should be saved was then taken aw^ay." " Paul said to the centurion and to the soldiers. Except these abide in the ship, ye cannot be saved." And in the following chapter, verse 1st, the word translated escaped, is derived from the same root. In the Septuagint, the same word is applied to those who have escaped from battle. When our Lord, in the agony of his soul, prays that the bitter cup of suffering might pass from him, he uses the same word: " Now is my soul troubled; and what shall I say ? Father, save me from this hour: but for this cause came I unto this hour." Jude applies it to the deliverance from the land of Egypt : " I will therefore put you in remembrance, though ye once knew this, how that the Lord, having saved the people out of the land of Egypt, afterward destroyed them that believed not." In these cases, salvation means simply such a change upon the ex- ternal circumstances in which the body is placed, that danger is removed, and safety recovered. No change is produced on the body itself, but only on its situation with regard to other things.
Secondly, When this term is applied to the case of persons labouring under disease, it signifies an
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internal operation, suited also to the evil which it remedies, by which the inward principle of the ma- lady is counteracted, and the bodily organs restored to healthful exercise. This is the most common use of the word in the New Testament, when it refers to the body. In this sense it occurs in most of the narratives of our Lord's miraculous cures, and is rendered in our translation by vavious English phrases, such as " made whole :"— " For she said within herself, If I may but touch his garment, 1 shall be whole. But Jesus turned him about ; and when he saw her, he said. Daughter, be of good comfort; thy faith hath made thee whole. And the woman was made whole from that hour. And whithersoever he entered, into villages, or cities, or country, they laid the sick in the streets, and be- sought him that they might touch if it were but the border of his garment : and as many as touched him
were made whole." " Healed:"—" They also
which saw it told them by what means he that was
possessed of the devils was healed." " He shall
do well :"— " Then said his disciples. Lord, if he sleep, he shall do well." In these cases, salvation does not mean a change upon circumstances external to the body, but upon the internal condition of the body itself.
The distinction between these two classes of cases is obvious. In both, an external agent is supposed to apply the remedy; but the operation of this agent differs according to the nature of the evil. In the first class, it is directed to the external circumstances in which the body is placed ; in the second, it is di- rected to the body itself.
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We frequently see these two kinds of salvation conjoined : thus, a man is imprisoned on suspicion of a crime, aad in consequence of the unhealthiness of the place is seized with the jail fever — at last he is acquitted, and his liberation is followed by restored health. Here the one salvation is the effect of the other, and is indeed the only thing which could make the other valuable. Take another instance : a man loses his»health from the use of improper food — a benevolent person, by supplying him with proper food, restores his health. Here the external evil is un- wholesome food, and the internal is disease. There are also two kinds of salvation, corresponding to these two evils, the one of which, however, is en- tirely subservient to the other. The change of food is made simply for the purpose of restoring health ; and if this effect does not follow, nothing has been accomplished which can properly be called salvation — the whole plan has failed. Salvation then properly refers to the ultimate object in the series. If a man is simply in danger of being lost by shipwreck, his ultimate object is to be safe on dry land : but if the fear of his danger has deprived him of his reason, then the recovery of his mental health becomes the ultimate object, and the salvation from shipwreck becomes merely a step to the salvation of his reason. So, if a man has the disease of cancer, he may be de- livered from the cancer by the knife : but then the salvation from the cancer is subservient to the salva- tion of his health ; and unless this consequence fol- lows, the object has failed.
The minuteness of these observations may seem tedious; but we have been led to them from the per-
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suasion, that a greater attention to the analogy which subsists between the treatment of the body under danger or disease, and the gospel scheme of salva- tion, would very much increase the accuracy of our ideas on religious subjects. Salvation from bodily disease is frequently expressed by the word " life." '' Jesus saith unto him, Go thy way; thy son liveth. And the man beheved the word that Jesus had spoken unto him, and he went his way." — " And he besought him greatly, saying. My little daughter lieth at the point of death : I pray thee, come and lay thy hands on her, that she may be healed ; and she shall live." In which last instance, " she shall live," is used as explanatory of " that she may be healed." Life in these cases evidently signifies the full exercise of the animal faculties, and when it fol- lows sickness, is synonymous with a confirmed cure. This same salvation is also expressed by the term " loosing," or freeing from the bondage of pain : " And ought not this woman, being a daughter of Abraham, whom Satan hath bound, lo, these eighteen years, be loosed from this bond on the sabbath- day?"
We now proceed to consider the import of the term salvation when applied to the soul. Salvation, when applied to the soul, refers also to two kinds of evils, which, though different in their nature, are yet always conjoined; the one being external to the soul, the other internal — the first consisting in the sentence of God against the soul on account of dis- obedience, the second consistino- in the diseased and depraved state of the soul itself.
The first of these evils, namely, the sentence of
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God against the soul on account of disobedience, consists in an eternal exclusion from the family and favour of God. The second evil, namely, the dis- eased state of the soul itself, consists in that disposi- tion which leads to disobedience. Salvation from the first of these evils, may be termed a judicial ac- quittal. Salvation from the second, a recovery of spiritual health.
In order to understand and adore the wisdom of God in redemption, it is necessary to understand the way in which these two kinds of salvation are con- nected, for they are never disjoined. Now there are two ways in which things may be conjoined; namely, by arbitrary connection, and by natural connection. As an instance of the first, we may take the obli- gation under which a man lies to take certain oaths, when he is intrusted with certain offices under gov- ernment. There is no natural or necessary connec- tion between these two things, the connection arises out of law or usage : the man may take the oaths without getting the office. As instances of the se- cond, we may take the connection which subsists be- tween a man's being a father, and having a kindness for his children, or between a man's receiving a favour and feeling gratitude.
It may here be argued with justice, that as God is the God of nature, every connection which he ap- points becomes a natural connection. This is not denied, and all that is meant here by natural connec- tion, is such a relation between two things, that to our minds the existence of the one appears indispen- sable to the existence of the other, or at least that the existence of the one appears to us, in the ordi-
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nary course of things, to lead to the existence of the other.
Let us now take a short view of the gospel sys- tem, that we may perceive hoio the two kinds of salvation therein revealed are connected, that is, how pardon through a Saviour is connected with the re- covery of spiritual health, and also that we may per- ceive which of the two is the ultimate object in God's dealings with men.
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The Bible informs us that man has fallen from God's favour, and from his own natural happiness, by having a will diflPerent from God's will, and by ac- quiring a character and pursuing a conduct opposite to God's character and conduct. Mere pardon to a creature in this situation would be comparatively of small consequence, because his unhappiness arose necessarily out of his character; and, therefore, un- less his character were changed, his unhappiness re- mained the same. The enjoyments of God's family were things contrary to his corrupted taste and choice, and, therefore, his free admission into them could be no blessing to him. In order to his happiness, the restoration of his lost privileges must be accompanied by a restoration of the capacity to enjoy them. For this reason, when God invited his rebellious crea- tures to return to his favour and family, he did it in such a way, that the soul which truly accepted of the invitation, imbibed, at the same time, the principles of a new character.
There is a difference between the body and the mind which should here be taken notice of. The body may be perfectly capable of enjoyment, and yet at the same time perfectly miserable, in consequence
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of being precluded from the means of enjoyment. Thus, a man in a perfect state of health may be made urhappy by being fettered in a noisome dungeon, where he is debarred from the exercise of those ani- mal faculties, the gratification of which constitutes animal enjoyment. But we cannot apply this rea- soning to the mind. A perfectly healthful state of mind, according to the appointment of Him who changeth not, is inseparably connected with mental enjoyment. The happiness of God arises neces- sarily out of his character; and the mental health of intelligent creatures, which is in fact nothing more nor less than a resemblance to the character of God, must also be inseparably connected with happiness. So that perfect mental health is not simply the ca- pacity for enjoyment ; it may perhaps more properly be said to constitute enjoyment itself. The same, or similar causes, must produce the same or similar effects ; and if the character of God is the cause of his happiness, a similar character (with reverence be it spoken) must produce a similar happiness. And this happiness can be produced by no other character, for that would be to suppose that opposite causes could produce the same effects.
If this be so, it follows, that a restoration to spi- ritual health, or conformity to the divine character, is the ultimate object of God in his dealings with the children of men. Whatever else God hath done with regard to men, has been subsidiary, and with a view to this ; even the unspeakable work of Christ, and pardon freely offered through his cross, have been but means to a farther end ; and that end is, that the adopted children of the family of God might
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be conformed to the likeness of their elder Brother — that they might resemble him in character, and thus enter into his joy. This is spiritual health ; and it is acquired by the blessing of God upon the reception and faithful use of the means which he hath appointed and made known to us in the history of his mercy through a Saviour. Free offer of par- don through the Son of God, is termed salvation, just in the same way that a medicine is, in common language, called a cure ; that is, they do not strictly constitute salvation — they only produce it. Before entering on the consideration of those passages which confirm this view of the subject, we shall endeavour to make our meaning more distinctly understood. It must be remembered always, that the love of God with the whole heart, is not only the sum of all that duty which is positively enjoined on us by the divine law, under an awful penalty, but also, that it is the only principle which can produce or maintain spiritual health. Our failure, therefore, in obedience to this law of love, not only exposes us to the penalty de- nounced against disobedience, but also plants in our souls the seeds of disease.
Let us suppose that the inhabitants of any district were liable to an epidemic disorder, which, from the partial derangement accompanying it, naturally unfitted its victims for the exercise of civil rights; and that there were, in the neighbourhood, certain salubrious springs, which had the virtue of counter- acting the tendency to disease in those who used them, the waters of which were very palatable to those who were in health, but very disagreeable to those who were infected. Let us suppose, farther,
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that the government, anxious for the well-being of the people, should enact a law, binding every indivi- dual to drink these waters at fixed periods, under the penalty of forfeiting all civil rights and immuni- ties in case of disobedience ; thus adding the sanc- tion of law to the constitution of nature. In these circumstances, it is evident that disobedience would be attended by two distinct consequences : first, by disqualification for holding any office in the state, as the legal penalty of disobedience; and, secondly, by a disease (from not using the antidote) which would of itself naturally unfit the subject of it from hold- ing any office, even were he not excluded by law, and which would also oppose its own cure, by pro- ducing a strong repugnance to the only medicine which could remove it. Their natural repugnance to the waters would also be strengthened by irrita- tion against the government under whose condemna- tion they lay, and by the persuasion that obedience could now be of no use, because the penalty was already incurred.
In this supposed case, we see obedience, health, and the enjoyment of civil privileges, united both by law and nature on the one side ; and disobedience, civil disqualifications, and disease, as closely united on the other. We see also, that this disease can only be removed by a return to obedience, and that this obedience can only be produced by some motive powerful enough to overcome the distaste for the remedy. As health, and the enjoyment of civil pri- vileges, were, from the outset, inseparably connected in the mind of the government, and as the law was made simply for the purpose of giving an additional
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motive for using the necessary means of preserving health, so, if the malady should become generally prevalent, (the original connection between health and civil privileges still subsisting, and being itself the real ground of the present disqualifications,) the views of government would become primarily directed to those means by which the people might be induced to return to the use of that remedy which could alone restore health, and fit them for the exercise of those privileges for which they had disqualified themselves both by law and nature. The reason of this is ob- vious; because the removal of the legal disqualifica- tions could be of no possible use whilst the disease continued, except in so far as it acted as a motive with the diseased outlaws for applying the remedy, both by showing them that the road to preferment was now set open, if they were only fit for it, and also by manifesting the kindly disposition of government, and thus exciting them to gratitude and obedience.
Although it is perhaps impossible to make out a perfect analogy between the things of the visible and invisible worlds, yet there appear to us to be some circumstances, in this case, which bear very much on the relation which, according to the Bible, subsists between God and man.
The rights and immunities of God's family consist in possessing the favour of God, in approaching to him at all times as our Father, in enjoying what he enjoys, in rejoicing to see his will accomplished through the wide range of his dominions, and in being ourselves made instruments in accomplishing it.
The only character which is capable of enjoying these privileges, or indeed of considering them in
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the light of privileges, must be one which is in some measure conformed to God's character. This then is spiritual health, which evidently can only be de- rived from, or maintained by a love, a predominant love, to God in his true character. But as man, from the constitution of his nature, was liable to choose differently from God's choice, and thus to fall into spiritual disease, it pleased the divine wisdom to point out, in the form of an express law, the only source of spiritual health, saying, " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart ;" and to sanction it by the penalty of exclusion, in case of disobedience, and the promise of divine privileges, in case of obedience. Thus we see here also, obedience, spiritual health, and heavenly immunities, united by nature, as well as by positive law, on the one side; and disobedi- ence, spiritual disease, and forfeiture, on the other.
Man disobeyed the commandment, he loved other things better than God; and thus subjected himself to the legal penalty, and at the same time was af- fected with that spiritual disease which disqualified him from being a member of God's family, even sup- posing that there had been no legal exclusion what- ever.
When the mercy of God purposed to deliver man from this state of misery into which he had precipi- tated himself, it became his object to bring him back to spiritual health, and thus to make him partake of heavenly happiness. But the source of health still continued the same; an intelligent being could only become like God, by loving God in his true charac- ter. It became necessary, then, that some manifes- tation of the divine holiness and justice should be
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made, so interwoven with motives to gratitude, that he who beheved the history of it, shoukl be con- strahied to love, not only the mercy of God, but even that awful and pure sanctity which cannot look upon iniquity.
We naturally esteem, and even love, perfect jus- tice, except in those cases where its condemning sen- tence falls upon ourselves. At the same time, if justice is compromised, even in our own favour, our gratitude is necessarily mingled with a degree of contempt or disesteem ; so that it is the union of kindness and justice, in their highest degrees, which alone can attract perfect reverential love.
Now, supposing that such a manifestation of the character of God had been made, as that his mercy had seemed to overlook sanctity, and throw it into the shade, by affixing no stigma to transgression, our love could not have been accompanied by perfect reverence— and moreover, what is principally to be attended to, this love could not have the effect of healing our spiritual disease, because, not being at- tracted by the full and true character of God, it could not produce in us a resemblance to that true character, which is the main object to be accom- plished. This supposition is, of course, merely made for the sake of the argument, for it is absurd to suppose that God should manifest himself other- wise than in his true character.
A manifestation of unmixed justice in the divine character must have been still more inefficacious. It could have attracted no love, and, of course, no re- semblance; it could only have confirmed the sen- tence of condemnation, and thus have strengthened
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our enmity and despair, even whilst it might have compelled our respect.
In order to produce real spiritual health, the divine manifestation must be such, as to excite within our hearts a perfect complacency in all and each of the perfections of God: it must lead us to adopt his loves and hatreds, so to speak; it must exhibit sin to us, not only as fearful from its consequences, but as hateful in itself, and revolting to every feeling of affection and gratitude.
This manifestation of himself hath God made in the gospel of his Son. In that gospel, he makes the fullest and freest offers of pardon and favour ; but it is through the blood of atonement. God became man, and dwelt amongst us : he took upon himself our nature, and the judicial sentence under which we lay on account of transgression. He showed the evil of sin, and the power of justice, by suffering the just for the unjust. The infinity of Godhead gave weight and dignity unspeakable to the sacrifice. He showed a love unmeasured, in that, when the autho- rity of the divine law required full satisfaction, he hesitated not to give himself a ransom for sinners. In this wondrous work, justice magnifies mercy, and mercy magnifies justice. The greatness of the sac- rifice demonstrates the extent both of the divine abhorrence for sin, and of the divine love for sinners. When we sin against this Saviour, or forget him, we must feel that it is the basest ingratitude, it is trampHng on that blood that was shed for us. The gospel farther assures us, that the same God is ever present, with these same feelings towards us, with these same feelings towards sin — that he orders
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every event, and appoints every duty — that he offers us his Hstcning ear, and his enabling Spirit, in all difficulties — and that he points us to a rest beyond the grave, where our resemblance to him shall be completed, and his joy shall be ours.
In this manifestation of the Divine character, the attributes of justice and mercy form a combination so amiable and so resplendent, that whilst our affec- tions and esteem are chained to it, our very concep- tion faints under it. We can here love perfect jus- tice, because we are not under its condemnation ; we can here adore perfect mercy, because it is unmixed with weakness or partiality. Sin, even in the ab- stract, is associated in our minds with sentiments of abhorrence as well as fear ; and holiness, with senti- ments of affection as well as hope.
A growing resemblance to the character thus glo- riously manifested, is the necessary consequence of our love for it. This is a law of our nature. The leading objects of our thoughts and affections con- stitute the moulds, as it were, into which our minds are cast, and from which they derive their form and character. This fact ought to make us most watch- ful over the motions of our hearts ; for it is only by a constant contemplation of the true character of God, and by cherishing and exercising those affec- tions and desires which arise out of this contempla- tion, that the divine image is renewed in our souls. We are not to expect any mechanical or extraneous impression separate from that which the truth makes ; for it is by the truth alone, known and believed, that the Holy Spirit operates in accomplishing that sanctifying work, which is itself salvation. When
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the soul, therefore, leaving God, chooses created thmgs for its chief objects, these things become the moulds which impart to it their own fleeting charac- ter, and imprint on it their own superscription of vanity and death.
When this connection between loving an object and resembling it is considered, we can have no dif- ficulty in discerning why faith in the gospel history is required in order to salvation. We cannot love that which we do not believe, and we cannot resem- ble that which we do not love. Hence it is, that faith becomes a matter of such vital consequence. It is the very foundation of the whole Christian character, the very root of the tree.
If salvation had consisted simply in the removal of the judicial penalty denounced against sin — if this had been the sole scope of the work of Christ, it would have been unnecessary to have revealed the gospel history to men, or to have required their be- lief of it; because the atonement being made, their belief could neither add to it nor take from it.. But when salvation is considered to express the renewed health of the soul, and when heaven and hell are considered as the names of opposite characters, ne- cessarily connected, by the very nature of things, with certain happy or miserable consequences; and thus, when the revealed law of God is considered as explaining and declaring the particulars of a consti- tution which was originally mixed up with the ele- ments of our being, rather than as enacting a new one — then we see the importance of faith, because it is the only medium through which the perfections of the divine character can possibly make any impres-
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sion on our minds ; and unless our minds be so im- pressed as to excite our love, we cannot become like God, or, in other words, our spiritual health cannot be restored nor improved. We are not called upon to believe any thing for the mere sake of believing it, any more than we are called on to take a medi- cine for the mere sake of taking it; we are called on to believe the truth on account of the healing influ- ence that it has upon the mind, as we are called on to take a medicine on account of its influence on our bodily health.
It follows from this, that what is called doctrinal instruction, w^hen properly applied, is really the most practical. No one would be considered as a prac- tical physician, who merely recommended his patients to be in good health, and painted the advantages of a good appetite, of bodily ease and vigour, whilst at the same time he did not apply the remedies which might lead to these effects. So, likewise, he is not a practical teacher of religion, who contents himself with exhorting his hearers to be in spiritual health, and to exhibit in their lives and conversations those Christian virtues which are the symptoms of spiritual health, whilst he does not anxiously and constantly, at the same time, inculcate upon them that view of the divine character in Jesus Christ, which contains in itself means of powerful operation to renew and purify the mind, and which God himself has re- vealed as the appointed medicine for healing the dis- eases of the soul, and restoring it to health and vi- gour. It is possible that a physician, either of souls or of bodies, may so be engrossed with the beauty of his theory, that he may forget that application of
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it from which it derives its sole importance ; but this error is not greater than the error of those who should dream of restoring health, without the appli- cation of any means, or by such as are contrary to the obvious principles of the science which they pro- fess.
Besides, although we can form a very accurate notion of what bodily health is, it is impossible for us to do this with regard to spiritual health, without comprehending, according to the measure of our ca- pacities, the state and character of that Eternal Mind, who is the pattern, as he is the source, of all spiritual perfection. And this view cannot be taken, without entering into, and understanding, the dealings of God with men, in the mission of Jesus Christ, which is represented in the Bible as by far the most strik- ing and important manifestation of the divine char- acter with which the world has been favoured. So that it is a delusion to call upon men, or direct them to acquire spiritual health, unless at the same time the nature of this health is shown to them, by de- lineating the purposes of the life and death of Him, in whom alone we can find " the brightness of the Father's glory, and the express image of his person."
Neither mental nor bodily health can be gained without the use of the appropriate means. The means of bodily health are to be discovered by hu- man experiment and science ; but the means of spi- ritual health are contained in the gospel. Thus, the mercy of God in Christ, and his holy abhorrence of sin, manifested in perfect concord with mercy, con- stitute the spiritual medicine; and the object and result of its application is salvation or healing.
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But although this renewal of spiritual health in man be the great object of the Gospel, yet in itself it afFords no ground of confidence before God; that is, it is no foundation on which we can rest our hope for pardon or acceptance with him ; both because it is imperfect in itself, and because, even if it were perfect, it could not atone for past transgression. The only confidence which it is calculated to give, is analogous to that confidence which a man feels when he finds his bodily health improving by the use of a particular regimen : he is satisfied of the advantage of the system, and he perseveres in it with alacrity. The ground of our hope before God continues the same, and this ground is the sacrifice of Christ for the sins of the world. The mercy and the justice manifested in this fact, are, and con- tinue for ever to be, the only food which can confirm and increase that spiritual health which they first gave. The moment that the soul begins to feed on any other food than this, the moment that it takes any thing else for its chief joy, or hope, or confi- dence— that very moment the health of the soul declines, the disease of sin gathers strength, and disorders the whole frame of the soul; withdraws the affections and faculties from the pursuit of those things which are eternal, and points them to passing shadows ; relaxes all the energies of the spiritual life ; displaces true joy, and hope, and peace, and substi- tutes in their room a joy that inebriates, and a hope that dies, and a peace that blindfolds, whilst it con- ducts to ruin. He who withdraws from the sacri- fice of Christ, and places confidence in the spiritual health to which he has already attained, is like the
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man who would refuse his necessary food, and dream of supportmg his life out of that stock of life which he had already enjoyed.
" My beloved brethren," says the apostle, " be ye steadfast, immoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know, that your labour in the Lord is not in vain." This work con- sists in living under an ever-present sense of what God hath done for sinners, in the sacrifice of Jesus Christ. Faith means the conviction of the reality of things which we do not see. Now, in order that this conviction be of any use to us, it must be present with us. A man cannot be said to be under a con- viction, unless it is upon his mind. If a man is con- vinced that particular precautions are necessary for his health, he will take these precautions : but as soon as he forgets the necessity, his precautions vanish. Thus, forgetfulness comes often to the same thing as an opposite conviction. The belief of the morning, if it be confined to the morning, will do us no good through the day. He that believes is saved, not he who has believed. The sole object of Christian belief is to produce the Christian character; and unless this is done, nothing is done. Good bodily health has a value in itself, ind»epen- dently of the good digestion and good nourishment which produced it; so also spiritual health has a value in itself, independently of the correct beHef which produced it. Li both cases, the effects are the objects of ultimate importance ; but then they cannot exist without their causes, and when the causes cease to operate, the effects must also cease. To resemble God is the great matter; but we cannot resemble him
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without loving him ; and we cannot love him in his true character, without believing in his true charac- ter.* T. E.
In the CHARACTER and writings of the Rev. Samuel Rutherford, the precedmg remarks are most powerfully illustrated. He constantly presents the " blood of sprinkling " as the only eflPectual balm for the wounded conscience ; but it is, that the con- science thus pacified might be purged *^ from dead works to serve the living God." He constantly rests on the sacrifice of Christ for removing the guilt and condemnation of sin ; but it is that being deli- vered from the spirit of bondage and fear, he might serve God " in newness of spirit." He constantly looks to the perfect righteousness of Christ, as the sure ground of his acceptance with God ; but he no less looks to the perfection of Christ, that, by the transforming influence of such a contemplation, he might *' be changed into the same image." He con- stantly directs his view to the glory and blessedness of those heavenly mansions, which Christ has gone to prepare for his people ; but it is that having this hope in him, he might be prepared for these blessed mansions, " by purifying himself, even as Christ is pure."
While few have cherished a more cordial and unshaken faith in the obedience and death of Christ, as the sole foundation of their hope for pardon and acceptance with God, few have more fully manifested
* The preceding remarks were furnished by Mr. Erskine for this edition of Mr. Rutherford's Letters j those which follow were furnished by another hand.
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the genuine and unfailing fruits of such a faith in the hohness and purity of their lives. Few have equalled him in their steady adherence to truth in the midst of persecution and suffering — or in greater devotion to the will of God, in every thing he con- sidered his duty, with such a fearless disregard of consequences — or in cherishing with greater care and tenderness, a conscience void of offence towards God and towards man — or in making the work of personal sanctification more the business of their lives — or in labouring more abundantly to teach others the way of salvation, and extend the interests of pure and un defiled religion. In his life no less than in his writings, he afforded a noble vindication of the doc- trines of grace being doctrines according to godliness. " Holiness to the Lord," was the inscription which he endeavoured to write on every affection of his heart, and on every action of his life ; and knowing this to be the indispensable preparation for heaven, in his precious, and spiritual, and edifying Letters, he constantly breathes no less after purity than peace. In obedience to the apostolic injunction, his great endeavour was to keep himself " in the love of God ;" and it was by maintaining in his soul a rejoicing sense of this love, and of peace and reconciliation with God, that he was enabled to offer the hourly and ever-burn- ing incense of a heart devoted in all its affections to Him, as the God of his redemption,
Edinburgh, January^ 1825.
ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR
OF
THIS EDITION.
Eminent as the name of Samuel Rutherford has been, and dear as his memory must ever be to those who know how to value an unshrinkhig pro- fession in the hour of trial and difficulty, no excuse can be necessary for this attempt to make his Letters more generally known, than the experience of the Editor of this selection proved them to be, even in that country, whose church history is illustrated by the account of this good man's unswerving testimony to the " faith once delivered to the saints," at a period when many were called upon to seal such testimony with their blood. But, to those who are acquainted with, and partial to his Letters in their original form, some apology may be requisite for the alterations of phraseology, and omission of many pas- sages in those which have been selected and are now oftered to the public, as exhibiting most strongly, and enforcing most persuasively, the doctrines and prin- ciples which have distinguished the pure church of Christ, and animated her members in every age ; but B 2
XXVIU
whose solidity and lustre are most conspicuously manifest in the hour of persecution and trial.
We are aware how strong those feelings are, which consecrate the very peculiarities of a favourite teacher, and that the language — however quaint or antiquated, in which spiritual truths were first pre- sented to the mind, or which spoke consolation to the wounded spirit — becomes so endeared to us, that any alteration of it seems to rob the maxim of wis- dom, or the word of comfort, of some portion of its strength or sweetness : yet we think that even those (the number of whom is now comparatively small) who have been nurtured by the writings of this highly spiritual man, will not deny, that their obso- lete phraseology, the frequent reiteration of the same ideas, and such turns both of thought and expression, as in the present day appear extravagant, (and which, as his Biographer observes, have been " jested on by the profane wits of the age,") are calculated to deter general readers from their perusal, and actu- ally have rendered this " mine of spiritual wealth," as it has been aptly designated by the venerable Richard Cecil, a hidden treasure to many who would highly prize the gold, could they obtain it separated from the dross which encumbers it. The object, therefore, assiduously kept in view by the Editor of the present selection, has been to free these valuable Letters from the objections above enumerated, with- out depriving them of any of their characteristic vi- gour and vivacity : and a comparison with the origi- nals will show, that nothing essential to the indivi- duality of the style has been sacrificed to a fastidious delicacy, and nothing tending to edification omitted.
XXIX
The necessity of conversion — the danger of delusion — the importance of " making thorough work " of that great business of our lives — the alone sufiBciency of Christ's sacrifice for our justification — our accep- tance with Him, and reception of " His fulness," through faith in that sufficient sacrifice — entire de- pendence upon Christ as the Alpha and Omega, the Author and Finisher of our faith, in whom, spirit- ually as well as naturally, we " live, and move, and have our being ;" — these are the points dwelt upon in the Letters, and set forth with all the power re- sulting from the deep experience of a strong and ar- dent mind. Christ for us^ with us, in us^ is the theme, however the expressions may be varied ac- cording to the circumstances of the writer, or of those whom he addressed. But the Letters will speak for themselves ; and they will speak to each of us with a force proportionate to the anxiety we feel to make our calling and election sure, knowing that " the time is short," and that " now is the accepted time, now is the day of salvation."
Edinburgh, January, 1825.
CONTENTS.
Page
Memoir of the Author, 35
Address to the Christian Reader, .... 45
LETTERS.
To Viscountess Kenmure, 47 — 105
The Professors of Christ and his Truth in Ireland, . ib.
John Gordon of Cardoness, Elder, . . . 108
Lady Boyd, 110
Rev. William Dalglish, 112
Rev. Hugh M'Kail, 113
Lady Boyd, 114
William Halliday, 115
A Gentlewoman, after the Death of her Husband, . 116
Earlstoun, Younger, 118
Lady Kilconquhair, 121
Lady Forret, 122
Lady Earlstoun, 123
Carletoun, ib.
John Gordon, Esq. at Risco, in Galloway, . . 125
Lady Halhill, 127
Lady Boyd, 128
Margaret Ballantine, 129
Margaret Reid, 131
James Bautie, 132
John Stewart, Provost of Ayr, . . . 136 — 141
Ninian Mure, 142
XXXll
CONTENTS.
To Jean Brown, .... Lady Busby, ....
William Rigg, of Athernie,
Fulk Elies,
James Lindsay,
Lady Largirie, ....
Lady Kilconquhair, .
Lady Gaitgirth, ....
Mr. Matthew Mowat,
Mr. John Meine, ....
Robert Lennox, of Disdove,
Thomas Corbet, ....
Alexander Gordon, of Earlstoun,
Robert Gordon, of Knockbrex,
Rev. Robert Blair,
Elizabeth Kennedy,
Janet Kennedy,
John Ewart, Bailie of Kirkcudbright,
Earlstoun, the Younger, .
Robert Glendinning,
William Glendinning,
Jean Brown, ....
John Henderson,
Lady Robertland,
Lady Rowallan,
Robert Gordon, of Knockbrex,
AVilliam Livingston, .
George Gillespie,
John Fleming, Bailie of Leith,
Mr. William Dalgleish, .
Marion M'Naught, .
John Gordon, at Rusco,
Lady Largirie,
The Laird of Cally,
John Gordon, Younger of Cardoness,
Mr. James Fleming,
Cardoness, Senior, .
Jean Brown, ....
Robert Stewart,
CONTENTS. XXXm
Page
To Lady Gaitglrth, 209
Mr. John Fergushill, 210
John Stewarl, Provost of Ayr, 213
Carsluth, 215
Cassincarrie, . . . . . . , .218
Lady Cardoness, 220
"William Gordon, at Kenmure, 222
Margaret Fullerton, 224
Robert Lennox, of Disdove, 225
John Fleming, Bailie of Leith, .... 227
Earlstoun, Younger, ...... 228
John Gordon, 229
Mr. John Fergushill, 230
Lady Cardoness, 232
William Glendinning, 234
Rev. Robert Blair, 236
Lord Craighall, 237
Patrick Carsen, 239
John Carsen, 240
Lady Boyd, ib.
Lady Cardoness, Senior, 243
Mrs. Stewart, 245
Alexander Gordon, of Garloch, .... 246
John Bell, Elder, 248
William Gordon, of Robertoun, .... 249
John Clark, 251
Cardoness, Senior, 252
Cardoness, Junior, ..... 255
Carletoun, 257
The Parishioners of Kilmacolm, .... 259
John Kennedy, 265
Mr. H. Stewart and his Family, Prisoners at Dublin, 268
Mr. James Wilson, 270
Lady Boyd, 273
John Fennick, 274
Lady Fingask, 277
Mr. David Dickson, 279
Lady Boyd, 280
Mrs. Taylor, 283
b3
XXXIV CONTENTS.
Page
To Barbara Hamilton, 287
Mrs. Hume, 289
Baj-bara Hamilton 290
A Christian Friend, on the Death of his Wife, . . 292
A Christian Brother 294
A Christian Gentlewoman, 296
Lady Ardross, 298
Earlstoun, Senior, 300
Rev. George Gillespie, 301
Mrs. Gillespie, 303
Colonel Gilbert Ker, 305
iMarion M'Naught, 306—326
]Mrs. Craig, ib»
Mr. William Guthrie, after the Defeat at Dunbar, . 328
Rev. James Guthrie, 330
Aberdeen, 332
Appendix, 338
Some of the last Words of Mr. Rutherford, . . ib.
Mr. Rutherford's Testimony, .... 343
LIFE OF THE AUTHOR.
Mr. Samuel Rutherford, a gentleman by birth, having spent some time at the Grammar-school, went to the University of Edinburgh, where he was so much admired for his great talents, and one from whom great things might be expected, that in a short time, though but then very young, he was made Professor of Philosophy in that University.
Some time after this he was called to be minister at Anwoth, in the shire of Galloway; which charge he entered by means of the Viscount of Kenmure, without any acknowledgment or engagement to the bishops. There he laboured with great diligence and succes4 both night and day, rising usually by three o* clock in the morning, spending the whole time in reading, praying, writing, catechising, visit- ing, and other duties belonging to the ministerial profession and employment.
Here he wrote his " Exercitationes de Gratia," &c. for which he was summoned, in June 1630, be- fore the High Commission Court; but the weather was so tempestuous, as to obstruct the passage of the archbishop of St. Andrews hither, and Mr. Colvill, one of the judges, having befriended him, the diet
36
was deserted. About the same time his first wife died, after a sore sickness of thirteen months, and he himself being so ill of a fever for thirteen weeks, that he could not preach on the Sabbath-day without great difficulty.
In April 1634, he was again threatened with an- other prosecution, at the instance of the bishop of Galloway, before the High Commission Court. Ac- cordingly, he was again summoned before the High Commission Court for his nonconformity, his preach- ing against the Five Articles of Perth, and the fore- mentioned book, " Exercitationes Apologeticas pro Divina Gratia ;" which book, they alleged, reflected upon the Church of Scotland. But the truth was, says a late historian,* the argument of that book cut the sinews of Arminianism, and galled the Episcopal clergy to the very quick ; and therefore bishop Sy- dreserf could endure him no longer. When he came before the Commission Court, he altogether declined them as a lawful judicatory, and would not give the chancellor (being a clergyman) and the bishops their titles, by lording of them. Yet some had the cour- age to befriend him, particularly Lord JL<orn, after- wards the famous Marquis of Argyle, who did as much for him as was in his power to do : but the bishop of Galloway threatening, that if he got not his will of him he would write to the king, it was carried against him ; and upon the 27th of July, 1636, he was discharged from exercising any part of his ministry within the kingdom of Scotland, under
♦ See Stevenson's History, vol. i. p. 1-19. Rowe's History, p. 295.
37
pain of rebellion ; and ordered, within six months, to confine himself within the city of Aberdeen, during the king's pleasure : which sentence he obeyed, and forthwith went to the place of his confinement.
From Aberdeen he wrote many of his famous letters, from which it is evident that the consolations of the Holy Spirit did greatly abound with him in his sufferings; yea, in one of these letters he ex- presses this in the strongest terms, when he says, " I never knew before that his love was in such a measure. If he leaves me, he leaves me in pain, and sick of love; and yet my sickness is my life and health. I have a fire within me; I defy all the devils in hell, and all the prelates in Scotland, to cast water on it." Here he remained upwards of a year and a half; by which time he made the Doctors of Aberdeen know that the Puritans, as they called them, were clergymen as well as they. But upon notice that the Private Council had received in a decHnature against the High Commission Court in the year 1638, he ventured to return to his flock at Anwoth, where he again took great pains, both in pubHc and in private, amongst that people, who from all quarters resorted to his ministry, so that the whole country might account themselves as his particular flock; and, it being then at the dawning of the Re- formation, found no small benefit by the gospel; that part of the ancient prophecy being farther accom- plished— " For in the wilderness shall waters break out, and streams in the desert."
He was before that venerable Assembly held at Glasgow, in 1638, and gave an account of all his former proceedings with respect to his confinement,
88
and the causes thereof. By them he was appointed to be Professor of Divinity at St. Andrews, and col- league in the ministry with the worthy Mr. Blair, who was translated thither about the same time. And here God did again so second this eminent and faithful servant, that by his indefatigable pains, both in teaching in the schools, and preaching in the con- gregation, St. Andrews, the seat of the archbishop, and by that means the nursery of all superstition, error, and profaneness, soon became a Lebanon, out of which were taken cedars for building the house of the Lord, almost throughout the whole land; many of whom he guided to heaven before himself, who received spiritual life by his ministry, and many others walked in that light after him.
And as he was mighty in the public duties of re- ligion, so he was a great practiser and encourager of the private duties thereof. Thus, in the year 1640, when a charge was foisted in before the General Assembly, at the instance of Mr. Henry Guthrie, minister in Stirling, (afterwards bishop of Dunkeld,) against private society-meetings, which were then aboundinjy in the land, on which ensued much rea- soning, the one side agreeing, that a paper, before drawn up by Mr. Henderson, should be agreed to, concerning the order to be kept in these meetings, &c. ; but Guthrie and his adherents opposing this, Mr. Rutherford, who was never much disposed to speak in judicatories, threw in this syllogism — " What the Scriptures do warrant, no assembly may disannul ; but private meetings for religious ex ■ ercises the Scriptures do warrant : * Then they that feared the Lord spake often one to another,' &c.
39
* Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another,' &c. These thmgs could not be done in public meetings," &c. And although the Earl of Seaforth, and those of Guthrie's faction, upbraided this good man for this, yet it had influence upon the majority of the members ; so that all the opposite party obtained was an act concerning the ordering of family worship.
He was also one of the Scots Commissioners, ap- pointed, anno 1643, to the Westminster Assembly, and was very much beloved there for his unparalleled faithfulness and zeal in going about his Master's busi- ness. It was during this time that he published " Lex Rex," and several other learned pieces against the Erastians, Anabaptists, Independents, and other sec- taries that began to prevail and increase at that time, and none ever had the courage to take up the gaunt- let of defiance thrown down by this champion.*
When the principal business of this Assembly was pretty well settled, Mr. Rutherford, on October 24, 1647, moved that it might be recorded in the Scribe's book, that the Assembly had enjoyed the assistance of the Commissioners of the Church of Scotland, all the time they had been debating and perfecting these four things mentioned in the Solemn League, namely. Their composing a Directory for Worship, an Uniform Confession of Faith, a Form of Church Government and Discipline, and the Pub-
* It is reported, that when King Charles saw " Lex Rex," he said it would scarcely ever get an answer ; nor did it ever get any, except what the Parliament, in 16G1, gave it, when they caused it to be burned at the cross of Edinburgh, by the hands of the hangman.
40
lie Catechism, which was done in about a week after he and the rest returned home.
Upon the death of the learned Damatius, anno 1651, the magistrates of Utrecht in Holland, being abundantly satisfied as to the learning, piety, and true zeal of the great Mr. Rutherford, invited him to the divinity chair there ; but he could not be per- suaded. His reasons elsewhere, when dissuading another gentleman from going abroad, seem to be expressed in these words : — " Let me entreat you to be far from the thoughts of leaving this land : I see it, and find it, that the Lord hath covered the whole land with a cloud in his anger : but though I have been tempted to the like, I had rather be in Scotland beside angry Jesus Christ, knowing he mindeth no evil to us, than in any Eden or garden on the earth." From which it is evident, that he chose rather to suffer affliction in his own native country, than to leave his charge and flock in time of danger. He continued with them till his death, in the free and faithful discharge of his duty.
When the unhappy difference fell out between those called the Protesters and the Public Resolu- tioners, annis 1650 and 1651, he espoused the Pro- testers' cause, and gave faithful warning against these public resolutions ; and likewise, during the time of Cromwell's usurpation, he contended against all the prevailing sectaries that then ushered in with the sectaries by virtue of his toleration.* And such was
• Between this toleration and that of the Duke of York, there
was this difference: in this all sects and religions were tolerated, except popery and prelacy ; but in that of York, not only these two were tolerated, but all others, except those who professed
41
his unwearied assiduity and diligence, that he seemed to pray constantly, to preach constantly, to catechise constantly, and to visit the sick, exhorting from house to house; to teach as much in the schools, and spend as much time with the students and young men in fitting them for the ministry, as if he had been se- questrated from all the world besides, and yet withal to write as much as if he had been constantly shut up in his study.
But no sooner did the restoration of Charles II. take place, than the face of affairs began to change, and after his forementioned book, " Lex Rex," was burned at the cross of Edinburgh, and at the gates of the New College of St. Andrews, where he was professor of divinity, the Parliament, in 1661, were to have an indictment laid before them against him ; and such was their humanity, when every body knew he was dying, that they caused summon him to appear before them at Edinburgh, to answer to a charge of high treason.* But he had a higher tribunal to appear before, where his Judge was his
true presbyterian covenanted principles : and as for Queen Anne's toleration, it was nothing else than a reduplication upon this, to restore their beloved idol prelacy again.
* It is commonly said, that when the summons came, he spoke out of his bed and said, " Tell them I have got a summons al- ready before a superior Judge and judicatory, and I behove to answer my first summons ; and ere your day come, I will be where few kings and great folks come." When they returned and told he was dying, the Parliament put to a vote, Whether or not to let him die in the college ? It carried, " Put him out," only a few dissenting. My Lord Burleigh said, " Ye have voted that Jionest man out of the college, but ye cannot vote him out of heaven." Some said, " He would never win there — hell was too good for him." Burleigh said, " I wish I were as sure of heaven as he is ; I would think myself happy to get a grip of his sleeve to haul me in." See Walker's Rem. page 171.
42
friend, and was dead before that time came, being taken away from the evil to come.
When on his death-bed, he lamented much that he was withheld from bearing witness to the work of reformation since the year 1638; and upon the 28th of February, he gave a large and faithful Testi- mony * against the sinful courses of that time ; which testimony he subscribed twelve days before his death, being full of peace and joy in believing.
During the time of his last sickness, especially when his end drew near, he often broke out into a kind of sacred rapture, extolling and commending the Lord Jesus, whom he often called his blessed Master — his kingly King. Some days before his death, he said, " I shall shine — I shall see him as he is — I shall see him reign, and all his fau' com- pany with him : and I shall have my large share ; mine eyes shall see my Redeemer, these very byes of mine, and no other for me : this may seem a strong word, but it is no fancy or delusion ; it is true, it is true ; let my Lord's name be exalted, and if he will, let my name be ground to pieces, that he may be all in all.''
The day before his death, he said, " O that all my brethren in the public may know what a Master I have served, and what peace I have this day ! I shall sleep in Christ, and when I awake, I shall be satisfied with his likeness." And he said, " This night shall close the door, and put my anchor within the vail, and I shall go away in a sleep by five of the clock in the morning."
♦ This Testimony, and some of his Last Words, will be found at the end of this volume.
43
On the 19th of March, 1661, about five o'clock in the morning, as he himself had foretold, Mr. Rutherford died, who may justly be accounted among the sufferers of that time; for surely he was a martyr both in his own design and resolution, and by the design and determination of men. Few men ever ran so long a race without cessation, so constantly, so unweariedly, and so unblameably. Two things rarely to be found in one man, were eminent in him ; namely a quick invention and sound judgment, and these accompanied with a homely but clear expres- sion, and graceful elocution : so that such as knew him best were in a strait whether to admire him most for his penetrating wit and sublime genius in the schools, and peculiar exactness in disputes and mat- ters of controversy, or his familiar condescension in the pulpit, where he was one of the most moving and affectionate preachers in his time, or perhaps in any age of the church. — To sum up all in a word, he seems to be one of the most resplendent lights that ever arose in this horizon.
In all his writings he breathes the true spirit of religion ; but in his every way admirable Letters, he seems to have outdone himself, as well as every body else; which, although jested on by the profane wits of the age, because of some homely and familiar ex- pressions in them, it must be owned by all who have any relish for true piety, that they contain such su- blime flights of devotion, that they must at once ravish and edify every sober, serious, and understanding reader.
Among the posthumous works of the laborious
44.
Mr. Rutherford, are his « Letters;'* " The Trial and Triumph of Faith ;" " Christ's Dying and Draw- ing of Sinners," &c. " A Discourse on Prayer ;" " A Discourse on the Covenant ;" " On Liberty of Conscience ;" " A Survey of Spiritual Antichrist ;" " A Survey of Antinomianism ;" " Antichrist Stormed;" and several other controversial pieces, such as, " Lex Rex ;" " The Due Right of Church Government;" " The Divine Right of Church Government;" and " Peaceable Plea for Presby- tery;" also a " Summary of Church Discipline," and a " Treatise on the Divine Influence of the Spirit." There are also a variety of his Sermons in print, some of which were preached before both Houses of Parliament in the years 1644 and 1645. He wrote also upon Providence ; but that being in Latin, is only in the hands of a few ; as are also the greater part of his Works, being so seldom repub- lished. There is also a volume of Sermons, Sacra- mental Discourses, &c.
TO THE
CHRISTIAN READER.
Christian Reader,
In each of these Epistles thou mayest perceive, how the Writer's heart is inflamed with a holy fire, and how his soul ascends, as if snatched up to heaven, and caught up above all that is below God. O how much drops from his pen above the ordinary attainments and experience, even of such as seem to have outrun others ! So that in respect of us, this angel of the church speaks as one standing already in the choir of angels, or as an angel come down from heaven among men. And thus, leaving thee to peruse what is made public for thy edifica- tion; and to press this pomegranate, and squeeze this grape ; and to drink till thou find thy soul re- freshed with its spiced wine ; and wishing thee an experimental knowledge of that surpassing and in- conceivable sweetness which is in the fruition of God, and to be enjoyed in a fellowship with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ, and a full draught of these pure streams of solid joy and con- solation, wherewith the soul of this saint was re- freshed, and which run through these lines. He speaks as coming forth out of the king's banquet-
46
ing house, to persuade thee to go in thither, and feast and refresh thy soul with the same pure deUghts, and permanent pleasures, whereon he fed, and which flow in upon the soul, and overflow it, while the saint finds himself, with his Beloved's "left hand under his head, and his right hand embracing him." I shall only wish and beg, that thou wouldst seri- ously seek of God the same thing for him who seeks this for thee, and hath this design in the pains taken in publishing these Letters ; if thou be thereby pro- voked to seek till thou find, this is that adequate re- compense which he seeks, earnestly entreats, and expects, who is thy soul's well-wisher, and servant in Christ Jesus.
%:
"^ ^^f\r
LETTERS
OF THE
REV. SAMUEL RUTHERFORD.
To VISCOUNTESS KENMURE. [i.]
Madam, — All dutiful obedience in the Lord re- membered : — I have heard of your Ladyship's in- firmity and sickness with grief; yet I trust you have learned to say, " It is the Lord, let him do whatever seemeth good in his eyes." It is now many years since the apostate angels made a question, whether their will, or the will of their Creator, should be done ; and since that time, froward mankind have always pleaded in that same suit with them against God, in daily repining against his will. But the Lord, being both Party and Judge, hath declared, " My counsel shall stand, and I will do all my plea- sure :" Isa. xlvi. 10. It is then best for us, in the obedience of faith, and in holy submission, to give that to God which the law of his almighty and just power will have of us : therefore. Madam, your Lord wills you, in all states of life, to say, " Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven ;" and herein
48
shall you have comfort, that He who sees perfectly through all your evils, and knows the frame and constitution of your nature, and what is most health- ful for your soul, administers every cup of affliction with his own gracious hand. Never believe that your tender-hearted Saviour, who knows the weak- ness of your constitution, will mix that cup with one drachra-weight of poison; drink then with the pa- tience of the saints, and the God of patience bless your medicine. I have heard your Ladyship com- plain of deadness, and want of the bestirring power of the life of God : but courage — He who walked in the garden, and caused Adam to hear his voice, will also, at some time, come into your soul, and make you to hear a more sweet word. You are, at such a time, like Jacob mourning the supposed ^eath of Joseph, when Joseph was living. The new crea- ture, the image of the second Adam, is living in you ; and yet you are lamenting the supposed death of the life of Christ in you. I have good con- fidence. Madam, that Christ Jesus, whom your soul is seeking, is within you ; and yet I speak not this, to lay a pillow under your head, or to dissuade you from a holy fear of the loss of your Saviour. I know, in spiritual confidence, the devil will be apt to come in, and endeavour to bring you under a fearful sleep, till he whom your soul loveth be departed from the door, and have left off knocking ; and, therefore, here the Spirit of God must hold your soul in the middle line, betwixt confident resting in the arms of Christ, and drowsy presumptuous sleeping in the bed of carnal security. Therefore, worthy lady, so count little of yourself, because of your own wretchedness
49
and sinful drowsiness, that you count not also little of God in the course of his unchangeable mercy ; for there be many Christians, most like to young sailors, who think the shore and the whole land doth move, when the ship and they themselves are moved: just so, not a few do imagine that God moveth and changeth place, because their giddy souls are under sail, and subject to alteration — to ebbing and flow- ing. But " the foundation of the Lord abideth sure ;" God knoweth that you are his own. Wres- tle, fight, go forward, watch, fear, believe, pray, andi then you have all the infallible symptoms of one! of the elect of Christ within you. You have now, Madam, a sickness before you, and after that a death ; gather then food for the journey. God give you eyes to see through sickness and death, and to see something beyond death. Now, I believe you have only these two shallow brooks, sickness and death, to pass through ; and you have also a promise that Christ shall do more than meet you, even that he shall come himself; yea, and bear you in his arms. O then ! O then, for the joy that is set before you, for the love of the Man (who is also " God over all, blessed for ever") that is standing upon the shore to welcome you, run your race with patience — the Lord go with you. Your Lord will not have you, nor any of his servants, exchange for the worse. Death, in itself, includeth both the death of the soul and the death of the body. But to God's children the bounds and limits of death are abridged and drawn into a more narrow compass: so that, when you die, death shall in part only seize upon you, or the least part of you only shall die, and that C 18
50
is, the dissolution of the body ; for in Christ you are deUvered from the second death. And, therefore, as one born of God, commit not sin, although you cannot live and not sin, and that serpent shall but eat your earthly part. As for your soul, it is above the law of death ; but it is fearful and dangerous to be a debtor and servant to sin ; for the account of sin you will not be able to make good before God, except Christ both count and pay for you. Stir up your husband, your brother, and all with whom you are in favour and credit, to stand upon the Lord's side against Baal. I have good hope your husband loveth the peace and prosperity of Zion : the peace of God be upon him. Thus, not willing to weary your Ladyship farther, I commend you, now and al- ways, to the grace and mercy of that God who is able to keep you, that you fall not. The Lord Jesus be with your spirit. S. R.
Anwoth, July 27, 1628.
To LADY KENMURE. [ii.]
Madam, — Saluting your Ladyship with grace and mercy from God our Father and from our Lord Jesus Christ : — I was sorry to depart leaving your ladyship in grief, and would still be grieved at it, if I were not assured that you have one with you in the furnace, whose countenance is like unto the Son of God. I know, that if you were not dear to God, and if your health did not require so much of him, he would not spend so much medicine upon you. All the brethren and sisters of Christ must be con-
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formed to his image in suffering, and some do more strikingly resemble the copy than others. Think, Madam, that it is a part of your glory, to be enrolled among those whom one of the elders pointed out to John : " These are they which have come out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb." You have lost a child — nay, she is not lost to you who is found to Christ ; she is not sent away, but only sent before; like unto a star which, going out of our sight, doth not die and vanish, but shineth in another he- misphere : you see her not, yet she doth shine in another country. If her glass was but a short hour, what she wants of time she has got of eternity; and 1 you have to rejoice, that one belonging to you is j now in heaven. Build your nest upon no tree here; for you see God hath sold the forest to death; and every tree upon which we would rest is ready to be cut down, to the end we may flee and mount up, and build upon the rock, and dwell in the holes of the rock. Whatsoever you love besides Jesus your Husband, is a strange lover : now it is God's special blessing to Judah, that he will not let her find her paths in following her strange lovers — " Therefore, behold, I will hedge up her way with thorns, and make a wall, that she shall not find her paths : and she shall follow after her lovers, but she shall not overtake them." O thrice happy Judah, when God buildeth a wall betwixt her and the fire of hell ! The world, and the things of the world. Madam, are the lovers you naturally affect — the hedge of thorns, and the wall which God builds in your way, to hin- der you from these lovers, are the thorny hedge of c2
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daily grief, loss of children, weakness of body, un- certainty of estate, lack of worldly comfort, fear of God's anger for unrepented-of sins : but what do you lose though God twist and plait the hedge daily thicker? God be blessed, the Lord will not let you find your paths ; return to your first Husband — do not weary, nor think that death walketh towards you with a slow pace; you must be riper ere you be shaken ; your days are no longer than Job's, that were " swifter than a post, and passed away as the swift ships, swift as the eagle that hasteth to the prey." There is less sand in your glass now than there was yesternight ; this span-length of ever- posting time will soon be ended : but the greater is the mercy of God, the more years you get to advise upon what terras and upon what conditions you cast your soul into the huge gulf of never-ending eter- nity. The Lord hath told you what you should be doing till he come : " Wait and hasten," saith Peter, " for the coming of the Lord ;" all is night that is here, in respect of ignorance and daily-ensuing trou- bles, one always making way to another, as the ninth wave of the sea to the tenth ; therefore sigh and long for the dawning of that morning, and the break- ing of that day of the coming of the Son of man, when the shadows shall flee away. Persuade your- self the King is coming : read his letter sent before him, " Behold, I come quickly." Wait with the wearied night-watch for the breaking of the eastern sky, and think that you have not a morrow. I am loath to weary you : show yourself a Christian, by suffering without murmuring ; — in patience possess your soul : they lose nothing who gain Christ. I
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commend you to the mercy and grace of our Lord Jesus, assuring you that your day is coming, and that God's mercy is awaiting you. The Lord Jesus be with your spirit. S. R.
Anwotlj, Jan. 15, 1629.
To LADY KENMURE. [rii.]
Madam, — Saluting you in Jesus Christ: — To my grief I must bid your Ladyship, it may be for ever, farewell on paper, having small assurance ever to see your face again, till the last general assembly, where the whole church universal shall meet; yet promising by his grace to present you, and your burdens, before him who is able to save you, and give you an inheritance with the saints, after a more especial manner than I have ever done before. You are going to a country where the Sun of righteous- ness, in the gospel, shines not so clearly as in this kingdom ; but if you would know where he whom your soul loveth doth rest, and where he feedeth at the noon-tide of the day, wherever you be, get you forth by the footsteps of the flock, and feed beside the shepherds' tents; that is, ask for some of the watchmen of the Lord's city, who will tell you truly where you shall find him whom your soul loveth. I trust you are so betrothed in marriage to the true Christ, that you will not give your love to any false Christ ; you know not how soon your marriage-day will come ; nay, is not eternity hard upon you ? It were time, then, that you had your wedding-garment prepared : be not sleeping at your Lord's coming.
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I pray God, you may be in readiness when he knocketh. Be not discouraged to go from this coun- try to another part of the Lord's earth : " The earth is his, and the fulness thereof." This is the Lord's lower house : while we are lodged here, we have no assurance to be ever in one chamber, but must be content to remove from one corner to another, resting in hope, that, when we come up to the Lord's upper city, Jerusalem that is above, we shall remove no more, because then we shall be at home. And, go wheresoever ye will, if your Lord go with you, ye are at home. Jesus be your shadow and your cover- ing. I have received many and divers heavy strokes since the Lord called me to the ministry ; but indeed I esteem your departure from amongst us the weigh- tiest : but I perceive God will have us to be deprived of whatsoever we idolize, that he may have his own place. I see exceeding small fruit of my ministry, and would be glad to know of one soul, to be my crown and rejoicing in the day of Christ. " Though I spend my strength in vain, yet my labour is with my God." I wish and pray that the Lord would make me learn to go with my face against a storm. Again, I commend you, body and spirit, " to him who hath loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood." Grace, grace, grace for ever be with you. Pray ; pray continually. Your Ladyship's, in all dutiful obedience in Christ, S. R.
Anwoth, Sept. 14, 1629.
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To LADY KENMURE. [iv.]
Madam,— I have longed exceedingly to hear of your life, and health, and growth in the grace of God. I entreat you, Madam, let me have two lines from you concerning your present condition. I know you are in grief and heaviness ; and if it were not so, you might be afraid, because then your way would not be so like the way that our Lord saith leadeth to the New Jerusalem. Sure I am, if you knew what were before you, or if you saw some glances of it, you would with gladness pass through the present floods of sorrow, spreading forth your arms out of desire to be at land. If God have given you the earnest of the Spirit, as part of the payment of the principal sum, you ought to rejoice ; for our Lord will not lose his earnest, neither wiU he go back, or repent him of his bargain. If you find, at some time, a longing to see God, joy in the assurance of that sight, (al- though the sight be but like the passover, that cometh about only once in the year,)— peace of conscience, liberty of prayer, the doors of God's treasury opened to the soul, and a dear sight of himself, saying, with a smihng countenance, " Welcome to me, afflicted soul;" this is the earnest which he giveth some- times, and which maketh glad the heart ; and is an evidence that the bargain will hold. But to the end you may get this earnest, it were good to come often to God, both in prayer and hearing of the word. You must, I say, wait upon him, and be often com- muning with him, for the Christ who saveth you is a speaking Christ; the church knoweth him by his
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voice, and can discern his language amongst a thou- sand. When the Lord cometh, he speaketh to the heart in the simplicity of the gospel. I have neither tongue nor pen to express to you the happiness of those who are in Christ; and when you have sold all that you have, and bought the field wherein this pearl is, you will think it no bad exchange ; for if you be in him, all his is yours, therefore, "because he liveth, you shall live also." For the Son of God hath said, " Abide in me, and I in you." O sweet communion, when Christ and we are wholly united ! " Father, I will that those whom thou hast given me be with me where I am ; to behold my glory, that thou hast given me." Amen, dear Jesus, let it be according to thy word !
I wonder your heart should ever be cast down if you believe this truth ; and they are not worthy of Jesus Christ, who will not suffer forty years' trouble for him, having such glorious promises : but we fools believe those promises, as the man that read Plato*s writings concerning the immortahty of the soul ; so long as the book was in his hand, he believed all was true, and that the soul could not die; but so soon as he laid by the book, presently he began to imagine, that the soul is but an airy smoke or vapour, that perisheth with the expiring of the breath; so we at starts do assent to the sweet and precious promises ; but, laying aside God's book, we begin to call all in question. It is true faith indeed to be- lieve without a pledge, and to hold the heart con- stant; and when we doubt, to run "to the law and to the testimony," and stay there. Madam, hold you here; here is your Father's testament, read it;
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in it he hatli left you remission of sins and life ever- lasting. If all that you have in this world be crosses and troubles, down-castings, frequent desertions and departures of the Lord, still he purposeth to do you good at your latter end, and to give you rest from the days of adversity. " It is good to bear the yoke of God in your youth." Turn ye to the strong- hold as a prisoner of hope. " For the vision is for an appointed time, but at the last it shall speak, and not lie ; though it tarry, wait for it ; because it surely will come, it will not tarry." Hear himself saying, " Come, my people," (rejoice, he callethyou,) "enter thou into thy chambers, and shut thy doors about thee : hide thyself, as it were, for a little moment, till the indignation be past." BeHeve then, beheve, and be ye saved : think it not hard if you get not your will nor your delights in this life; God will have you to rejoice in nothing but himself. " God forbid that you should rejoice in any thing but the cross of Christ." Grace, grace be with you. The great messenger of the everlasting covenant preserve you in body and spirit. Yours in the Lord,
S. R.
Anwoth, Feb. 1, 1G30.
To LADY KENMURR [v.]
Madam, — Grace, mercy, and peace, be multiplied upon you. I received your letter, in which I per- ceive your case in this world savoureth of commu- nion with the Son of God in his sufferings. Ye cannot, ye must not, have a more pleasant or more c3
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easy condition here, than he had, who through afflic- tion was made perfect. We indeed argue, Cannot God bring us to heaven with ease and prosperity ? Who doubteth but he can ? but his infinite wisdom decreeth the contrary; and though we cannot see the reason, yet he hath a most just reason. Madam, when you are come to the other side of the water, have set down your foot on the shore of glorious eternity, and look back again to the waters and your wearisome journey, and shall see nearer to the bot- tom of God's wisdom, in the clear glass of endless glory, you shall then be forced to say. If God had done otherwise with me than he hath done, I had never come to the enjoying of this crown of glory. It is your part now to believe, and suffer, and hope, and wait on. I protest, in the presence of that all- discerning eye, who knoweth what I write and what I think, that I would not be without the sweet ex- perience of the consolations of God, for all the bitter- ness of affliction : nay, whether God come to his children with a rod or with a crown, if he come him- self with it, it is well : welcome, welcome, Jesus, what way soever thou come, if we get a sight of thee. And sure I am, it is better to be sick, pro- viding Christ come to the bedside, and say, " Cour- age, I am thy salvation," than to enjoy health, and never be visited by God.
Worthy and dear Lady, in the strength of Christ fight and overcome: you are now alone, but you may have (if you ask) Three always in your com- pany— the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. I trust they are near you. You are now deprived of a lively ministry, so was Israel in their captivity;
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yet hear God's promise to them : " Therefore, thus saith ihe Lord God, Although I have cast them far off among the heathen, and although I have scat- tered them among the countries, yet will I be to them as a little sanctuary in the countries where they shall come." Behold a sanctuary ! for a sanc- tuary God himself, in the place and room of the temple of Jerusalem. I trust in God, carrying this temple about with you, you shall see Jehovah's beauty in his house.
Madam, my wife, after a long disease and torment, by the space of a year and a month, is departed this life : the Lord hath done it, blessed be his name. I have been diseased of a fever for the space of thir- teen weeks, and am still in that sickness, so that I preach but once on the Sabbath with great difficulty. The Lord Jesus be with your spirit. S. R.
Anwoth, June 26, 1630.
To LADY KENMURE. [vi.]
Madam, — I am exceedingly grieved that you should think, or have cause to think, that such as love you in God in this country are forgetful of you ; for myself. Madam, I owe to your Ladyship all evi- dences of my high respect, (in the sight of my Lord, whose truth I preach, I am bold to say it,) for his rich grace in you. Madam, I have no new purpose to write unto you, but of that which I think, nay, which our Lord thinketh, needful — that one thing, even Mary's good part, which you have chosen. All that God hath, both himself and his creatures, he is
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Jealing and parting among the sons of Adam; tliere are none so poor as that they can say, He has given them nothing; but there is no small difference be- twixt the gifts given to his own children, and to the children of the world. I hope your ladyship labour- eth to get assurance of the surest patrimony, even God himself. You will find in Christianity that God aimeth, in all his dealings with his children, to bring them to a high contempt of, and deadly feud with, this world ; and to set a high price upon Christ, and to esteem him one that cannot be bought for gold, and well v/orthy the striving for : and for no other cause doth the Lord withdraw from you the childish toys and earthly delights that he giveth unto others, but that he may have you wholly to himself: he seeketh his answer of you in affliction, to see if even then you will give him this answer. So I take him. Madam, give it him presently, and do not secretly grudge or murmur. If I hit not upon the right string, it is because I am not acquainted with your ladyship's present condition; but I believe you go on foot laughing, and putting on a good counte- nance before the world, and yet you carry heaviness about with you. You do well not to make them witnesses of your grief, who cannot be curers of it; but as there be some worldly friends, of whom you will not entertain an ill thought, far more ought you to believe good evermore of your dear friend, Jesus Christ. The thorn is one of the most cursed and crabbed weeds that the earth yieldeth ; and yet out of it springeth the rose, the sweetest of flowers, and the most delightful to the eye that the earth hath : your Lord shall make joy and gladness out of yout
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afflictions; for all his roses have a fragrant smell, and wait for the time when his own hand shall present them unto you. If you would have present comfort under the cross, be much in prayer; for your grief taketh liberty to work upon your mind, when you are not busied in the meditation of the ever-delighting and all-blessed Godhead. If you would lay the price you give (which is but some few years of pain and trouble) beside the commodities you are to receive, you would see they are not worthy to be laid in the balance together ; but it is nature which maketh you look what you give, and weakness of faith whicli hindereth you from seeing what you shall receive. Amend your hope, and trust your faithful Lord awhile; he maketh himself your debtor in the new covenant ; take his word, " Afflictions shall not spring up the second time." " He that overcometh shall inherit all things." Of the all things, then, which you are without in this world, Madam, I am able to say nothing, if that be not believed. *' The over- comer shall be clothed in white raiment," &c. " To the overcomer I will give to sit with me in my throne, as I overcame, and am set down with my Father in his throne." O thrice fools are we, who, like new- ; born princes, weeping in the cradle, know not that there is a kingdom before them ! Then let our Lord's own hand strike off the knots of pride, self- love, and world-worship, and infidelity, that he may make us stones and pillars in his Father's house. The Lord give you wisdom to believe and hope your day is coming. I hope to be witness of your joy, as I have been a hearer and beholder of your grief. Think you much to follow the heir of the crown, who
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had experience of sorrows, and was acquainted with grief. Now, commending you to the grace and mercy of God, I rest your obedient, S. R.
Anwotli, Jan. 4^ 1632.
To LADY KENMURE. [vn.]
Madam, — I would not omit the present oppor- tunity of remembering your Ladyship, still harping upon that string, which, in our whole lifetime, is never too often touched upon ; nor is our lesson well enough learned ; namely, that there is a necessity of advancing in the way to the kingdom of God, by contempt of the world, denying ourselves, and bear- ing our Lord's cross, which is no less needful for us than our daily food. And among many marks that we are on this journey, and under sail towards heaven, this is one — when the love of God so fills our hearts, that we forget to love and care too much for the hav- ing or wanting other things ; for this cause God's children take well with " the spoiling of their goods," knowing in themselves that they have in heaven " a better and an enduring substance." That day that " the earth and the works therein shall be burned with fire," your hidden hope, and your hidden life, shall appear; and therefore, since you are not now many years from your endless eternity, and know not how soon the sky above your head shall open, and the Son of man be seen " in the clouds of heaven," what better and wiser course can you take, than to leave off loving, desiring, or grieving, for the wants that shall be made up when your Lord and you meet ?
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TJien shall ye rejoice " with joy unspeakable and full of crlory — and your joy shall no one take from you." It is enough that the Lord hath promised you great things; only let the time of bestowing them be his ownf It is not for us to set an hour-glass to the Creator of time. It toill he, for God hath said it : wait his harvest ; his day is better than your day ; he putteth not his sickle in the corn till it be ripe and full-eared : and the great Angel of the covenant bear you company, till the trumpet shall sound, and the voice of the archangel awaken the dead.
You will find it your only happiness, under what- ever thing disturbeth and crosseth the peace of your mind in this world, to love nothing for itself, but only God for himself. Our love to him should be- gin on earth, as it shall be in heaven : for the bride taketh not, by a thousand degrees, so much delight in her wedding-garment, as in the bridegroom ; so we, in the world to come, (although clothed with glory as with a robe,) shall not be so affected with glory that goeth about us, as with the Bridegroom's joyful face and presence. Madam, if you can attain to this, the field is won ; and your mind, for any thing your Lord can take from you, will soon be calmed and quieted. It is well to lend to God will- ingly, who otherwise both icill and may take from you against your will.
Madam, fearing to be tedious to you, I break off here, commending you, your person, ways, burdens, and all that concerns you, to that Almighty, who is able to bear you and your burdens. Grace be with you for ever. S. K.
Anwoth, Jan. U, 1632.
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To LADY KENMURE. [vni.]
Madam, — I bless our Lord, through Christ, who hath brought you home again to your country, from that place where you have seen with your eyes, that which our Lord's truth taught you before, to wit, that worldly glory is nothing but a vapour, a shadow, the foam of the water, or something less and lighter — even nothing ; and that our Lord hath not, with- out cause, said in his word, 1 Cor. vii. 3L " The fashion of this world passeth away :" in which place our Lord compareth it to an image in a looking-glass. Some see in it the picture of honour — and but a picture indeed ; for true honour is to be great in the sight of God : and others see in it the shadow of riches — and but a shadow indeed ; for durable riches stand, as one of the maids of Wisdom, " upon her left hand:" and a third sort see in it the face of painted pleasure, and the beholders will not believe but the image they see in this glass is a living man, till the Lord come and break the glass in pieces, and remove the face; and then, like Pharaoh awakened, they say, " Behold, it was a dream." I know your ladyship thinketh yourself little in the way of this world, for the favourable aspect of any of these three painted faces ; and blessed be God that it is so — the better for you. If you be not changed, as I hope you are not, I believe you esteem yourself to be of those whom God hath tried these many years, and refined as silver. But, Madam, I will show your ladyship a privilege that others want, and you have, in this case : such as are in prosperity, and are
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filled with earthly joys, and increased with children and friends, though the word of God >s rndeed written for their instruction; yet to you who are m trouble, from whom the Lord hath t^^en many ch. - dren, and whom he hath otherwise exercised, there are some chapters, some particular promises, in the word of God, made in a special manner, which would never have been yours so as they now are, if you had had your portion in the world like others; there- fore, all the comforts, promises, and inercies, God offereth to the afflicted, are so many tokens of love ,0 you: take them to you. Madam, and c aim your ri.ht, and be not robbed. It is no small comfort that God hath written some scriptures to you which he hath not to others; you seem rather m this o be envied than pitied, for you are indeed like people of another world, and those that are above the ordinary rank of mankind, whom our Lord and King h h named beside all the rest, and to whom he hath writ- ten comforts and his hearty commendations. Uead these and the like, and think God is like a friend who sendeth a letter to a whole house and family, but who speaketh in his letter to some by name that are dearest to him in the house. \ou are then Madam, among the dearest fnends of our L^d and if it were lawful, I would envy you, that God should so honour you above many of his dear chd- dren. Therefore your part is, in this case, (seeing God taketh nothing from you but what he is to supply with his own presence,) to beseech your Lord to'take his own place in the room "f y«-/e-/f f^ dren Go forward, honourable and elect Lady, in the strength of your Lord, with your face toward
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To LADY KENMURE. [x.]
Madam, — I determined, and was desirous also, to have seen your Ladyship, but because of sickness I could not. I know you will not impute it to any unsuitable forgetfulness of your ladyship, from whom 1 received such comfort in my affliction, as I trust in God never to forget, and shall labour by his grace to recompense it, in the only way possible for me ; and that is, by presenting your soul, person, house, and all your necessities, in prayer to Him, whose I hope you are, and who is able to keep you till that day of appearance, and to present you before his face with joy. I am confident your ladyship is going forward in the begun journey to your Lord and Father's house and kingdom ; however, you want not tempta- tions within and without : and who among the saints hath ever taken that castle without stroke of sword ? .The Chief of the house, our elder Brother, our Lord Jesus, not being excepted, who won his house and home, due to him by birth, with the spilling of his blood.
Your ladyship hath the more need to look to yourself, because our Lord hath placed you higher than the rest, and your way to heaven lieth through a more wild and waste wilderness, than the way of many of your fellow-travellers ; not only through the midst of this wood of thorns, the cumbersome world, but also through these dangerous paths, the vain- glory of it. The consideration whereof hath often moved me to pity your soul, and the soul of your worthy and noble husband ; and it is more for you to
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win heaven, being ships of greater burden, and in the main sea, than for little vessels, that are not so much at the mercy of the storms, because they may come quietly to their port by keeping near the coast: for which cause you do much, if, in the midst of such a tumult of business and crowd of temptations, you shall give Christ Jesus his own place in your soul. I know and am persuaded that he is dearer to you than many kingdoms, and that you esteem him your well-beloved; and it becometh him to take the place in your soul, before all the world. I knew and saw him with you in the furnace of affliction ; for there he wooed you to himself, and chose you to be his. And now he craveth no more from you but your love, and that he get no cause to be jealous of you; and therefore, dear and worthy lady, be like unto the fresh river, that keepeth its own fresh taste in the salt sea. This world is not worthy of your soul; give it not a moment's welcome when Christ cometh in competition with it. Be like one of another country: home, and stay not; for the sun has fallen low, and nigh the tops of the mountains, and the shadows are stretched out in great length. Linger not by the way; the world and sin would make you turn aside, but leave not the way for these. Madam, many eyes are upon you, and many would be glad to see your ladyship mar a good profession ; the Lord Jesus mar such desires, and keep your conscience whole : it is a dainty, delicate creature, and a rare piece of the workmanship of your Maker; and there- fore deal gently with it, and keep it entire, that amidst this world's glory you may learn to entertain Christ. And whatsoever creature your ladyship
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findeth to have no savour of him, let it have no better reUsh to you than " the white of an egg" Madam, it is a part of the truth of your profession, to drop words in the ears of your husband continually, of death, judgment, eternity, hell, heaven. He must reckon with God. Forgetting of accounts payeth not debts ; nay, the interest of a forgotten bond run- neth up with God to interest upon interest. I know he looketh homeward, and loveth the truth ; but I pity hira with my soul, because of his many tempta- tions. Satan layeth upon men a burden of cares, above a load, when they are wholly set upon this world.
Madam, think you have no child : subscribe a bond to your Lord that she shall be his, if he will take her ; and thanks, and praise, and glory, to his holy name, shall be the interest for a year's loan of her. Look for crosses, and while it is fair weather mend the sail of the ship. Now, hoping your lady- ship will pardon my tediousness, I recommend your soul and person to the grace and mercy of our Lord, in whom I am your Ladyship's obedient, S. R.
Anwoth, Nov. 15, 1633.
To LADY KENMURE. [xi.]
Madam, — 1 trust I need not much entreat your Ladyship to look to Him who hath stricken you at this time ; but my duty in the memory of that comfort I found in your ladyship's kindness, when I was no less heavy in a case not unlike yours, urgeth me to say something now ; and I wish I could with words
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case your ladyship. I am persuaded your Physician will not slay, but heal you ; and seeing he calleth himself the Surgeon, " who maketh the wound, and bindeth it up again," (for to lance a wound is not to kill, but to cure the patient,) I believe faith will teach you to kiss the rod, and so to acknowledge the sovereignty of God in the death of your child, to be above the power of us mortal men, who yet may pluck up a flower in the bud, and not be blamed for it. If our dear Lord pluck up one of his roses, or pull down sour and green fruit before the harvest, who can challenge him ? For he sendeth us to his world, as men to a market, wherein some stay many hours, and eat and drink, and buy and sell, and pass through the fair, till they be weary ; such are those who live long, and get a hearty fill of this life. Others, again, come slipping in to the morning mar- ket, and do neither sit nor stand, buy nor sell, but look about them for a little, and presently pass home again. Our Lord, who hath numbered man's months, and set him bounds that he cannot pass, hath written the length of our days ; and it is easier to complain of the decree, than to change it.
1 verily believe, while I write this, our Lord hath taught you to " lay your hand upon your mouth :" but I shall be far from desiring you, or any other, to cast by a cross, like an old useless bill, that is only for the fire ; but rather would wish each cross were looked in the face seven times, and were read over and over again. It is the messenger of the Lord, and speaks something ; and the man of under- standing will " hear the rod, and him that hath ap- pointed it." Try what is the taste of the Lord's
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cup, and drink with God's blessing, that you may grow thereby. I trust in God, whatever speech it utter to your soul, this is one word in it, " Behold, blessed is the man whom God correcteth ;" and that it saith to you, " Ye are from home while here ; ye are not of this world, as your Redeemer Christ was not of it." There is something in store for you which is worth the having : all that is of this world, is condemned to die — to pass away like a snow-ball before a summer's sun ; and since death took first possession of something of yours, he hath been, and daily is, creeping nearer and nearer to yourself — howbeit with no noise of feet. Your Husbandman and Lord hath lopped off some branches already; and the tree itself is to be transplanted to the high garden. In good time be it ! and our Lord ripen you. All these crosses (and indeed when I remem- ber them, they are heavy and many: peace, peace be the end of them !) are to make you white and ripe for the Lord's harvest-hook. I have seen the Lord weaning you from this world. It never was his mind it should be your patrimony; and God be thanked for that, you look the liker one of the heirs. Let the moveables go : why not ? They are not yours : fasten your hold upon the heritage, and our Lord Jesus make the charter sure, and give your ladyship to grow as a palm-tree in God's mount Zion. Though shaken with winds, yet the root is fast.
This is all I can do, to recommend your case to the Lord who hath " engraven you on the palms of his hands." If I were able to do more, you may believe me that gladly I would. I trust shortly to see your ladyship. Now he who hath called you,
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confirm and stablish your heart in grace, unto the day of the Hberty of the sons of God ! Your Lady- ship's in all obedience, S. R. Ardwel, April 29, 1634.
To LADY KENMURE. [xii.]
Madam, — Grace, mercy, and peace be to your Ladyship. I am indeed grieved that your ladyship is deprived of such a husband, and the Lord's church of so active and faithful a friend ; but I know your ladyship long ago made acquaintance with that, wherein Christ will have you joined in fellowship with himself, even with his own cross; and hath taught you to stay your soul upon the Lord's good- will, " who giveth not account of his matters." When he has led you through this water, that was in your way to glory, there are fewer behind; and his order in taking one before another, is to be re- verenced. One year's time of heaven shall swallow up all sorrows, even beyond all comparison : what then will not a duration of blessedness, so long as God shall be, fully and abundantly recompense ? It is good that our Lord gives in eternity, what time cannot take from you. I believe your ladyship hath now been many years advising and thinking what that glory is, which abideth pilgrims and strangers on the earth, when they come home, and which we may think of, love, and think for, but cannot com- prehend nor conceive of it as it is ; far less can we over-think, or over-love it. O the length of that volume Christ is, in that divinity of glory ! Here D 18
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there is no more of him let down, to be seen and enjoyed by his children, than so much as to create hunger, not to satisfy it. Your ladyship is a debtor to the Son of God's cross, that is thus wearing out your love and affiance in the creature by degrees : or rather, the obligation standeth to his free grace, who, in this gracious dispensation, is preparing and making ready the garments of salvation for you, and " who calleth you by a new name, which the mouth of the Lord hath named;" and proposeth to make you a crown of glory, and royal diadem, in the hand of your God. I shall wish you no more, till time is no more, than the earnest of that which he hath pur- chased and prepared for you, and which can never be fully preached, written, or thought of, since it hath not entered into the heart to conceive it. So, re- commending your ladyship to the rich grace of our Lord Jesus, I rest your Ladyship's, in Christ,
S. R.
St. Andrews.
To LADY KENMURE. [xiii.]
My very noble and worthy Lady, — So oft as I call to mind the comforts that I myself, a poor friend- less stranger, received from you here, in a strange part of the country, when my Lord took from me the delight of mine eyes, (which wound is not yet fully healed and cured,) I trust your Lord shall remember that, and give you comfort now at such a time as this, wherein your dearest Lord hath made you a widow, that you may be " a free woman for Christ :"
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and seeing among all the crosses spoken of in our Lord's word, this giveth you a particular right to make God your Husband, (which was not so yours while your husband was alive,) read God's mercy out of this visitation. And albeit I must out of some experience say, the mourning for the husband of your youth be, by God's own mouth, the heaviest w^orldly sorrow; and though this be the heaviest bur- den that ever lay upon you, yet you know, if she shall wait upon Him who hideth his face for a little, that it lieth upon God's truth to be a Husband to the widow. Therefore I entreat you. Madam, in the bowels of Christ Jesus, and by the comforts of his Spirit, and your appearance before him, let God, and men, and angels, now see what is in you: the Lord hath pierced the vessel, it will be known whe- ther wine or water be in it. Let your faith and patience be seen, that it may be known your only beloved, first and last, hath been Christ ; and there- fore now place your whole love upon Him, who alone is a suitable object for your love, and all the affec- tions of your soul. God hath dried up one channel of your love, by the removal of your husband ; let now that stream run upon Christ. The Lord never thought this world's vain-painted glory a gift worthy of you ; and therefore would not bestow it on you, because he is to provide you a better portion. You are a child of the house, and joy is laid up for you ; it is long of coming, but not the worse for that. I am now expecting to see, and that with joy and com- fort, that which I hoped of you since I knew you fully, even that you have laid such strength upon the Holy One of Israel, that you defy trouble ; and that D 2
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there is no more of him let down, to be seen and enjoyed by his children, than so much as to create hunger, not to satisfy it. Your ladyship is a debtor to the Son of God's cross, that is thus wearing out your love and affiance in the creature by degrees : or rather, the obligation standeth to his free grace, who, in this gracious dispensation, is preparing and making ready the garments of salvation for you, and " who ealleth you by a new name, which the mouth of the Lord hath named;" and proposeth to make you a crown of glory, and royal diadem, in the hand of your God. I shall wish you no more, till time is no more, than the earnest of that which he hath pur- chased and prepared for you, and which can never be fully preached, written, or thought of, since it hath not entered into the heart to conceive it. So, re- commending your ladyship to the rich grace of our Lord Jesus, I rest your Ladyship's, in Christ,
S. R.
St. Andrews.
To LADY KENMURE. [xin.]
My very noble and worthy Lady, — So oft as I call to mind the comforts that I myself, a poor friend- less stranger, received from you here, in a strange part of the country, when my Lord took from me the delight of mine eyes, (which wound is not yet fully healed and cured,) I trust your Lord shall remember that, and give you comfort now at such a time as this, wherein your dearest Lord hath made you a widow, that you may be " a free woman for Christ :"
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and seeing among all the crosses spoken of in our Lord's word, this giveth you a particular right to make God your Husband, (which was not so yours while your husband was aHve,) read God's mercy out of this visitation. And albeit I must out of some experience say, the mourning for the husband of your youth be, by God's own mouth, the heaviest worldly sorrow; and though this be the heaviest bur- den that ever lay upon you, yet you know, if she shall wait upon Him who hideth his face for a little, that it lieth upon God's truth to be a Husband to the widow. Therefore I entreat you. Madam, in the bowels of Christ Jesus, and by the comforts of his Spirit, and your appearance before him, let God, and men, and angels, now see what is in you : the Lord hath pierced the vessel, it will be known whe- ther wine or water be in it. Let your faith and patience be seen, that it may be known your only beloved, first and last, hath been Christ ; and there- fore now place your whole love upon Him, who alone is a suitable object for your love, and all the affec- tions of your soul. God hath dried up one channel of your love, by the removal of your husband ; let now that stream run upon Christ. The Lord never thought this world's vain-painted glory a gift worthy of you ; and therefore would not bestow it on you, because he is to provide you a better portion. You are a child of the house, and joy is laid up for you : it is long of coming, but not the worse for that. 1 am now expecting to see, and that with joy and com- fort, that which I hoped of you since I knew you fully, even that you have laid such strength upon the Holy One of Israel, that you defy trouble ; and that D 2
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your soul is a castle that may be besieged, but can- not be taken. What have you to do here ? This world never looked like a friend upon you ; you owe it little love : howbeit, should you woo it, it will not match with you ; and therefore never seek warm fire under cold ice. This is not a field where your happiness groweth ; it is up above, where there are " a great multitude which no man can number, of all nations and kindreds, and people and tongues, stand- ing before the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with white raiment and palms in their hands." What you could never get here, you shall find there. And withal, consider how, in all these trials, and truly they have been many, your Lord hath been loosing you at the root from perishing things, and hunting you to secure your soul. Now, Madam, I hope your ladyship will take these lines in good part ; and, again, my dear and noble lady, let me beseech you to lift up your head, for the day of your redemp- tion draweth nigh, and remember that star that shined awhile near you, is now shining in another world. Now I pray that God may answer his own promise to your soul, and that he may be to you the God of all consolations. Thus I remain your Ladyship's in all dutiful obedience, S. R.
Anwoth, Sept. U, 1634.
To LADY KENMURE. [xiv.]
Madam, — All dutiful obedience in our Lord re- membered. I know you are now near one of those straits in which you have been before ; but because
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your outward comforts are fewer, I pray him, whose you are, to supply what you want another way. For howbeit you cannot see to the bottom of his wise providence who ruleth all; yet it is certain, this is not only good which the Almighty hath done, but it is the very best, and he hath reckoned all your steps to heaven. Therefore, Madam, seeing you know not but the journey is ended, and you are come to the water's side, in God's wisdom, look over all your papers and accounts, and see whether you be ready to receive the kingdom of heaven as a little child. I am confident your ladyship thinketh often upon it, and that your old Guide shall go before you, and take your hand. His love to you will not grow cold, nor wear out of date, as the love of man, which groweth old, and dieth often before themselves. Yet, Madam, in this late dispensation, you have seen God's love and care. He pareth not all the bitter- ness from the cross, neither taketh he the sharp edge quite from it. For then it would be of your choos- ing, and not of his ; which would have as little rea- son in it, as it would have profit for us. Madam, God commandeth you now to believe, and cast an- chor in the dark night : and he who hath called you, establish and confirm you to the end ! The Son of God is with you, to whose love and mercy, from my soul, I commend your Ladyship, and remain yours in Christ Jesus, S. R.
Anwoth, Nov. 29, 1634j.
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To LADY KENMURE. [xv.]
Madam, — My humble obedience in the Lord remembered. Know it hath pleased the Lord to let me see, to all appearance, my labours in God's house here at an end; and I must now learn to suffer, in the which I am a dull scholar. By a strange providence, some of my papers, concerning the cor- ruptions of this time, are come to our king's hand. I know, by the wise and well-affected, I shall be cen- sured, as not circumspect enough ; but it is ordinary that that should be a part of the cross of those who suffer for Christ : yet I love and pardon the instru- ment ; I would commit my life to him, howbeit by him this hath befallen me, but I look higher than him. I make no question of your ladyship's love and care to do what you can for my help ; and am persuaded, that in my adversities your ladyship wishes rae well.
I seek no other thing but that my Lord may be honoured by me in giving a testimony. I was will- ing to do him more service; but seeing he will have no more of my labours, I pray for grace to learn to be acquainted with misery, if I may give so rough a name to such a mark of those who shall be crowned with Christ. And howbeit I shall possibly prove a faint-hearted unwise man in that, yet I am bold to say, I intend otherwise : and I desire not to go on the sunny side of religion, or to put truth betwixt me and a storm. My Saviour did not so for me, who in his sufferings " endured the contradiction of sinners against himself." No further — but the Son
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of God be with you. Your Ladyship's in the Lord Jesus, S. R.
Anwoth, Dec. 5, 1634..
To LADY KENMURE. [xvi.]
Madam, — I received your Ladyship's letter. I thank our Lord, you are as well, at least, as one may be, who is not come home. You ought to bless your Lord that it is not worse ; we live in a sea where many have suffered shipwreck, and have need that Christ sit at the helm of the ship. It is a mercy to win heaven, though with much hard toil and heavy labour, and to take it by violence, ill and well as it may be.
I long to be fully assured of your ladyship's wel- fare, and that your soul prospereth, especially now in your solitary life, when your outward comforts are few. I know Christ's love to you is still running over, and does not forget you and the dear child, who hath two fathers in heaven, the one the " An- cient of days." I trust in his mercy he hath some- thing laid up for him above, however it may go with him here. It ought to be your joy, that your anchor is within the vail, and that the ground it is cast upon is not false, but firm. God hath done his part ; deny him not your love ; for he hath done all that can be done, and left you little to woo your love from him- self, except one only child. What is his purpose herein, he knoweth best, who hath taken your soul in tutoring. Your faith may be boldly charitable of Christ, that however matters go with you, the
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worst shall be a tired traveller, and a joyful and sweet welcome home. Your winter night is well nigh past. Look to the east, the day-sky is breaking. Think not that Christ loseth time, or lingereth unsuitably. O fair, fair and sweet morning ! We are but sea passengers : if we look right, we are upon our coun- try coast. These are the last days, and an oath is given by God himself, that time shall be no more. Thus, Madam, you see I am, as my custom is, tedious in my lines. Your Ladyship will pardon it. The Lord Jesus be with your spirit. Yours in the Lord, S. R.
Anwoth, Jan. 18, 1636.
To LADY KENMURE. [xvii.]
Madam, — That honour that I have prayed for these sixteen years, with submission to my Lord's will, my kind Lord has now bestowed upon me — even to suiBPer for the Lord Jesus, and for the free- dom of that kingdom that his Father hath given him. I am sentenced with deprivation and confine- ment within the town of Aberdeen ; and am charged, in the king's name, to enter against the 20th of Au- gust next, and there to remain during the king's pleasure. Howbeit this cross, newly laid upon me, be somewhat heavy, while I call to mind the many fair days, sweet and comfortable to my soul, and to the souls of many others that I have known ; yet this cross is accompanied with sweet refreshments, with the joy of the Holy Ghost, with faith that the Lord hears the sighing of a prisoner, with undoubted
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hope, (as sure as the Lord liveth,) after this night, to see day-Ught, and Christ's sky to clear up again upon me, and his poor church— and that in a strange land, amongst strange faces, he will give favour in the eyes of men, to his poor oppressed servant, who cannot but love the Lord Jesus, the Comforter of his soul. All would be well, if I were free of old challenges for guiltiness, and for neglect in my call- ing, and for speaking too Uttle for my well-beloved's crown, honour, and kingdom. If my Lord now quarrel with me also, I die— I cannot endure it ; but I look for peace from him. This is my old exercise, that I fear I have done little good in my ministry : yet for all my complaints, (and he knoweth that I dare not now dissemble,) he was never kinder to me than he is now. My dear and worthy lady, I give it to your ladyship under my hand, (my heart writ- ing as well as my hand,) welcome, welcome, sweet and glorious cross of Christ ! Welcome, Jesus, with thy light cross ! thou hast now gained and gotten all my love from me — keep what thou hast got. Only, woe is me for my bereft flock !— but I spare now. Madam, I dare not promise to see your ladyship, because of the httle time I have allotted me ; and I purpose to obey the king, who hath power of my body ; and rebellion to kings is unbeseeming Christ's ministers. Madam, bind me more (if more can be) to your ladyship; and write thanks to your brother, my Lord of Lorn, for what he hath done for me, a poor unknown stranger to his lordship. I shall pray for him and his house while I hve. Now, Madam, commending your ladyship and the sweet child, to the tender mercies of the Lord Jesus, and his good- d3
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will who dwelt in the bush, I rest, yours in the Lord, S. R.
Edinburgh, July 28> 1636.
To LADY KENMURE. [xvm.]
Madam, — Grace, mercy, and peace be to you. The Lord hath brought me safely to Aberdeen. I have got lodging in the hearts of all I meet with. No face that hath not smiled upon me : only the in- dwellers of this town are dry and cold, and it is counted no wisdom here to countenance a confined and silenced minister. But the shame of Christ's cross shall not be ray shame, I find my love often jealous of Christ's love, when I look upon my own guiltiness : and I verily think the world has too soft an opinion of the way to heaven, and that many shall find they have been but in a sad delusion; for there is more to do than a cold and frozen, " Lord, Lord." It must be a way narrower and straiter than we con- ceive, for the righteous shall scarcely be saved. It were good to take a more judicious view of Christi- anity ; for I have been doubting whether I ever knew any more of Christianity than the letters of the name* Yet, I will not deny my Lord. I find often much joy, and unspeakable comfort, in his presence who sent me hither. I should be sometimes too joyful, if the heart-breaking remembrance of sin did not come in to sour my joys. O how sweet is the love of Christ ! and how wise is that love ! But let Faith wait and trust awhile. God's heirs live upon hope. Madam, your ladyship knoweth what Christ
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hath done to have all your love, and that he alloweth not his love upon your dear child. Now, the only- wise God, and your only One, He who dwelt in the bush, be with you. I write many kisses, and many blessings in Christ, to your dear child. The bless;- ings of his father's God, the blessings purchased for the fatherless and the widow, be yours and his. Your Ladyship's in the Lord Jesus, S. R.
Aberdeen.
To LADY KENMURE. [xix.]
My very honourable and dear Lady, — Grace, mercy, and peace be to you. I cannot forget your ladyship, and that sweet child. I desire to hear what the Lord is doing to you and him — to write to me were charity. 1 cannot but write to my friends, that Christ hath met me in Aberdeen ; and my ad- versaries have sent me here to be feasted with his love. Madam, why should I conceal Christ's love ? I dare not conceal what he hath done for my soul. Madam, rue not of your having chosen the better part. Upon my salvation, this is Christ's truth I now suffer for. If I found but cold comfort in my sufferings, I would not beguile others ; I would speak plainly. But this love is a mystery to the world. I would not have believed that there was so much in Christ as there is. " Come and see," maketh Christ to be known in his excellency and glory. It is little to see him in a book. Men talk of Christ by the book and tongue, and no more ; but to come nigh Christ is aijother thing. Madam, I write to you,
Si,
for your encouragement in that honourable profes- sion Christ hath honoured you with. You have gotten the best of Christ's good things; he hath given you a Benjamin's portion. And howbeit you get strokes from your Lord, yet beHeve his love more than your own feeling; for this world can take no- thing from you that is truly yours, and death can do you no wrong. Your Rock doth not ebb and flow, though your sea doth. That which Christ hath said, he will abide by. Blessed be your guide, when your Head shall appear. Your day shall then dawn, and it shall never have an afternoon, nor an evening shadow. Let your child be Christ's ; let him stay beside you, as the Lord's pledge, that you will will- ingly render back again if God will. Let me hear from your Ladyship, and your dear child. Remem- ber my obhged obedience to my good Lady Marr. Grace, grace be with you. I write and pray bless- ings to your sweet child. Yours, in all dutiful obe- dience, S. R. Aberdeen, Nov. 22, 1636.
To LADY KENMURE. [xx.]
Madam, — Grace, mercy, and peace be to you. I received your Ladyship's letter: it refreshed me in my heaviness. The blessings and prayers of a prisoner of Christ come upon you. Since my com- ing here, I received not a line from Galloway, except what my brother Earlstoun and his son did write. I cannot get my papers transported ; but, Madam, I want not the kindness of One, who, if he had never
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done more for me since I was born, hath engaged my heart, and gained my blessing, in this house of my pilgrimage. I would not exchange my cross with any. I am persuaded, that it is Christ's truth I now sufiPer for. I know his comforts are no dreams: lie would not put his seal upon blank paper, nor de- ceive his afflicted ones, that trust in him. Your ladyship wrote to me that you are yet a poor scholar. Madam, you must go in at heaven's gates, your book in your hand, still learning. You have had your own large share of troubles, and a double portion ; but remember that word, Heb. xii. 28. Madam, it is not long since I did write to you, that Christ is keeping mercy for you ; and I abide by it still, and now I write it under my hand — Love him dearly ; strive to fjet nearer to him. There is in him that which you never saw; he is ever nigh; he is a tree of life, green and blossoming, both summer and winter. There is a point in Christianity, to which, whosoever cometh, will see and feel more than others can do; — I invite you anew to come to him. " Come and see," will speak better things of him than I can do. 'Come nearer' will say much. God never thought this world a portion worthy of you : he will not give you Esau's portion, but reserves the inheri- tance of Jacob for you. I long to hear of the child : I write the blessings of Christ's prisoner, and the mercies of God, to him. Let him be Christ's and yours betwixt you; but let Christ be the lender, and you the borrower — not an owner. Now the blessing of our dearest Lord Jesus, and the blessing of him that is separate from his brethren, come upon you. Yours in the Lord, S. R.
Aberdeen.
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To LADY KENMURE. [xxi.]
Madam, — Notwithstanding the great haste of the bearer, I would bless your Ladyship on paper, desiring, that since Christ hath ever envied that the world should have your love, that you give yourself out for Christ, and that you may be for no other. I know none worthy of you but Christ. I write my blessing to that sweet child, that you have borrowed from God; he is no heritage to you, but a loan — love him as folks do borrowed things. My heart is heavy for you. If my Lord would be pleased, I would desire some were dealt with for my return to Anwoth. But, if that never be, 1 thank God, An- woth is not heaven ; preaching is not Christ. I hope to wait on. Let me hear how the child is, and your ladyship's mind and hopes of him ; for it would ease my heart to know that he is well. Grace for evermore be with your Ladyship. Yours, in all obe- dience in Christ, S. R. Aberdeen, 1637.
To LADY KENMURE. [xxii.]
Madam, — Grace, mercy, and peace to you. I am refreshed with your letters: the right hand of Him, to whom belong the issues from death, hath been gracious to that sweet child. I do not, I can- not forget him and your Ladyship in my prayers. Madam, for your own case, I love careful, and withal, c^ozTzy complaints of want of practice; because
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I observe many who think it holiness enough to com- plain, and set themselves at nothing, as if to say, " I am sick," would cure them ; they think complaints a good charm for guiltiness. I hope you are wrest- ling and struggling. I urge upon you. Madam, a nearer communion with Christ, and a growing com- munion. There are depths of love in Christ, be- yond what we have seen ; therefore dig deep, and labour, and take pains for him ; and set by so much time in the day for him as you can — he will be won with labour. Now, Madam, I assure you, the greatest part but play with Christianity; they put it aside easily. I thought it had been an easy thing to be a Christian, and that to seek God had been at the next door; but O, the windings and turnings that he hath led me through ! and I see yet much way to the ford. He speaks with my reins in the night season, and in the morning, when I awake, I find his arrows that he shot at me sticking in my heart. Who will help me to praise ! who will raise the song with me, and set on high his great love ! As for friends, I shall not think the world to be the world, if that well go not dry. I trust in God to use the world as a prudent master doth a knavish servant ; (at least, God give me grace to do so !) he giveth him no charge or credit ; only entrusteth him with common errands, wherein he cannot play the knave. I pray God I may not look to the world for my joys, and comforts, and confidence — that were to put Christ out of his office. Now, the presence of the great Angel of the covenant be with you and that sweet child. Yours in the Lord Jesus, S. R.
Aberdeen, March 7, 1637.
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To LADY KENMURE. [xxra.]
Madam, — Grace, mercy, and peace, be to your Ladyship. I long to hear from you, and that dear child ; and for that cause I trouble you with letters. I am, for the present, thinking the sparrows and swallows that build their nests at Anwoth blessed birds. The Lord hath made all my congregation desolate. Alas ! I am oft at this, " Show me where- fore thou contendest with me." I know it is my faithless jealousy, in this my dark night, to take a friend for a foe ; yet hath not my Lord made a plea with me. I chide with him, but he gives me fair words. Seeing my sins, and the sins of my youth, deserved strokes, how am I obHged to my Lord, who, amongst many crosses, has given me a chosen cross ; namely, to suflPer for the name of the Lord Jesus. Since I must have chains, he would put golden chains on me, watered over with many consolations. See- ing I must have sorrow, (for I have sinned, O Pre- server of mankind !) he hath chosen for me joyful sorrow — spiritual, glorious sorrow. My crosses come through mercy, and the hand of love, from the kind heart of a brother, Christ my Lord ; and therefore they are sweet. It would be thought I should be thankful and rejoice ; but my beholders, and lovers in Christ, have eyes of flesh, and made my one to be ten, and I am somebody in their books. But my Witness is above, and there are armies of thoughts within me, saying the contrary, and laughing at their wide mistake. If my inmost heart were seen, I should lose and forfeit the love and respect of all
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those that love God : pity would come in the place of these. I would that they would set me lower, and my well-beloved Christ higher. I would that I had grace and strength of my Lord to be joyful, and contentedly glad that God might be glorified through my sufferings, in the view of all his creatures, pro- viding always I felt not the Lord's hatred and dis- pleasure. If I might be the means of glorifying Christ, by whatever extremity of wretchedness, how would my soul rejoice ! But I am far, far from this. His love has made me a prisoner, and bound me hand and foot : and it is my pain that 1 cannot get loose, nor get a free heart to do service to my Lord Jesus, and to speak his love. I confess I have nei- ther tongue nor pen to do it. Christ's love is more than my praises, and above the thoughts of all the mighty hosts that stand before the throne of God. Woe, woe is me ! for ray guiltiness seen to few ; my hidden wounds, still bleeding within me, are before the eyes of no man. But if my kind Lord were not still bathing, washing, balming, healing, and binding them up, they would break out to my shame. I know not what will be the end of my suffering. I have but seen the one side of my cross ; what will be the other side he knoweth who lays it on me. I thank my Lord, it is my joy to hold my peace, and wait to see what more Christ will do to me. Yet it is easy for a poor soul, in the deep depth of Christ's love, to feed upon broad wishes that Christ may be honoured; but in performance, I am stark nought. I have nothing, nothing to give Christ but poverty. Madam, I would be glad to hear that Christ's claim to you were still the more, and that you were still
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going forward, and that you were nearer to him. I do little honour to Christ myself, but I wish all others to make sail for Christ's haven. I am somewhat encouraged, that your ladyship is not dry and cold to Christ's prisoner as some are. I hope it is had in my Lord's remembrance. I am not much grieved that my jealous Master break in pieces my idols, so that they either dare not, or cannot, do any thing for me. My Master needeth not their help ; but he thus maketh them serviceable to his purpose. Madam, I have been so bold as to request for you, and that sweet child, the prayers of some in this country, who truly love Christ. Be pleased to let me hear how the child is. The blessings that came upon the head of Joseph, and on the head of him who was separated from his brethren, and the good-will of Him who dwelt in the bush, be seen upon him and you. Ma- dam, I can now, by some little experience, say more of Christ to you than formerly. I must persist in this, that if you seek, there is a hidden treasure and a golden mine in Christ you never yet saw. Then, " Come and see.'' Thus, recommending you to God's dearest mercy, I rest your own in the Lord Jesus, S. R.
Aberdeen, June 17, 1637.
To LADY KENMURE. [xxiv.]
Madam, — Upon the offered opportunity of this worthy bearer, I cannot omit to answer the heads of your letter. (1.) I think not much to set down on paper some good things concerning Christ, and to
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feed my soul with bare wishes to be one with Christ —for a wish is but broken and half love ; but verily, to obey this, " Come and see," is a hard matter. But, O ! I have rather smoke than fire, and guess- ings rather than real assurances of him. 1 cannot believe without a pledge; I cannot take God's word without a security: but this is my way; for his way is, " After that ye believed, ye were sealed with the Holy Spirit of promise." (2.) You write that I am filled with knowledge, and stand not in need of these warnings,— but my light, alas ! is but dim. Light, and the saving use of light, are far different. O, what need have I to have the ashes blown away from ray dying-out fire ! I may be a book-man, and be but a fool in Christ's way : learning will not beguile Christ. The Bible beguiled the Pharisees, and so may I be misled; therefore, as night-watchers hold one another waking, by speaking to one another, so we have great need to hold one another awake. Sleep stealethlway the light of watching, even the light that reproveth sleeping. I doubt not that more would reach heaven, if they beUeved not heaven to be at the next door. The world's negative holiness —no adulterer, no murderer, no thief, no cozener- makes men beheve they are already glorified saints. But the sixth chapter to the Hebrews may affright us all, when we hear, that men may take of the gifts and graces of the Holy Spirit, and a taste of the powers of the life to come, to hell with them. Here is reprobate silver, which yet seems to have the king's image and superscription on it. (3.) I find you com- plaining of yourself; and it becomes a sinner so to do. I am not against you in that. Sense of death
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is of kin to life : the more sense, the more life ; the more sense of sin, the less actual sin. I would pre- fer the pain of my wounds, however it may bereave me of my night's sleep, to my wounds without pain. (4.) Be not afraid for little grace; Christ soweth his living seed, and he will not lose his seed. If he have the guiding of our stock and state, it shall not miscarry. Our miscarriages, losses, deadness, cold- ness, wretchedness, are the ground which the good Husbandman laboureth. (5.) You write that his compassions fail not, notwithstanding that your ser- vice to Christ miscarrieth; — to which I answer, God forbid that there were buying, and selling, and bar- tering between Christ and us; for then grace would not be free. But we go to heaven with light shoul- ders ; and the vessels, great and small, that we have, are fastened upon the sure nail. The only danger is, that we turn God's grace into wantonness. (6.) You write, few see your guiltiness ; and you cannot be free with many as with me. I answer, Blessed be God, Christ and we are not heard before men's courts ; it is at home, betwixt him and us, that our differences are decided. Grace be with you. Yours in the Lord Jesus, S. R.
Aberdeen.
To LADY KENMURE. [xxv.]
Madam, — Grace, mercy, and peace be to your Ladyship. I long to hear from you. I know you are not looking after the things of time : you have no great cause to think that your stock and principal
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is under the roof of these visible heavens ; and I hope you would think yourself a deceived soul if it were so. I would be sorry to counsel your ladyship to make a covenant with time and this life ; but rather desire you to hold in fair generals, and far oflP from the ill-founded haven that is on this side of the water. It speaks something when our Lordbloweth the bloom off our vain hopes in this life, and loppeth the branches of our worldly joys, well nigh the root, on purpose that they should not thrive. A forfeiture of the saint's part of worldly happiness is not such a real evil as our blinded eyes conceive.
I am growing impatient now for some deliverance, more than before ; but I know I am in error. It is possible I am not come to that measure of trial that the Lord is seeking in his work. If my friends could do any thing effectually for my deliverance, I should exceedingly rejoice ; but I know not but the Lord hath a way, whereof he will be the only reaper of praises. Let me know, by the bearer, how the child is. The Lord be his Father, and Guardian, and your Comforter. Grace, grace be with your Lady- ship. Yours in the Lord, S. R.
Aberdeen, Feb. 13, 1637.
To LADY KENMURE. [xxvi.]
Madam, — I would not omit to write a line with this Christian bearer, one in your Ladyship's own case, driven near to Christ, in and by her affliction. I wish Christ were more dear and desirable to many souls than he is. I know no sweeter way to heaven,
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than through free grace, and hard trials together — and one of these cannot well be without the other. O that time would post faster, and hasten our com- munion with that " fairest among the sons of men !" But a few years will do our turn, and the soldier's hour-glass will soon run out. Madam, look to your lamp, and look for your Lord's coming, and let your heart dwell aloof from that sweet child. Christ's jealousy will not admit of two equal loves in your heart ; he must have one, and that the greatest. I would wish you well — and my obligations, these many years past, speak no less to me ; but more I can nei- ther wish, nor pray, nor desire for your ladyship, than Christ — singled and chosen out from all created good things — even though wearing a crown of thorns. I am sure the saints, at their best, are but strangers to the weight and worth of the incomparable excel- lence of Christ. He is so new, so fresh in excel- lency ; day by day renewed to those that search more and more in him; and yet he is ever one and the same. O ! we know not the half of what we love, when we love Christ. Let me hear how the child is, every way ; tbe prayers of a prisoner of Christ be upon him. Grace for evermore, even until glory perfect it, be with your Ladyship. Yours in the Lord Jesus, S. R.
Aberdeen, 1637.
To LADY KENMURE. [xxvn.]
Madam, — It is but too likely the Lord's contro- versy with these two nations is but yet beginning,
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and that we are ripened and white for the Lord's sickle. For the particular condition your Ladyship is in, another might speak (if they would say all) of more sad things. If there were not a fountain of free grace to water dry ground, and an uncreated wind to breathe on withered and dry bones, we were gone. All I have to do is to desire to believe that Christ will show all good-will to save ; and as for your ladyship, I know that Christ carrieth on no de- sign against you, but seeketh to save and redeem you. He lieth not in wait for your falls, except it be to take you up ; nothing of you. Madam, nay, not your leaf can wither — truly it is a glorious life to fol- low the Lamb. But when you see him in his own country, at home, you will think you never saw him before. " He shall be admired of all them that be- lieve." You may judge how far all your now sad days, and tossings, changes, losses, wants, conflicts, shall be then below you. You look to the cross now ; it is above your head, and seems to threaten death, as having dominion ; but it shall then be so far be- low your thoughts, or your thoughts so far above it, that you shall have no leisure to lend a single thought to crosses of old date, in youth, in age, in this coun- try, or in that, from this instrument, or from another, except it be to the heightening of your consolation, in being now above and beyond all these. Old age, and " waxing old, as doth a garment," is written on the fairest face of the creation. Death from Adam to the second Adam's appearance, playeth the King, and reigneth over all. The prime Heir died ; his children, which the Lord hath given him, follow him ; and, to speak freely of this life, did we not look for
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a better, there were not much gam in godHness. But there is a rest for the people of God. Grace be with you. Your Ladyship's in Christ Jesus, S. R. London, Feb. 16, 1640.
To LADY KENMURE. [xxvm.]
Madam, — Grace, mercy, and peace be to you. I know that you think of your departure, and that your abode in this Hfe is short ; for " we flee away as a shadow." The decKning of the sun, and the lengthening of the shadow, saith our journey is short and near the end. I speak it because I have warn- ings of my removal. Madam, I know not any thing comparable to a nearness and spiritual communion with the Father, and the Son Christ ; there is much deadness and witheredness upon many spirits, even sometimes when near to God. You have. Madam, in your accounts, mercies, deliverances, rods, warn- ings, plenty of means, consolations when refuge failed, when you looked on the right hand, and, behold, no man would know you, nor care for your soul; when young and weak, manifestations of God, the out-go- ings of the Lord for you, experiences, answers from the Lord — by all which, you may be comforted now, and confirmed in the certain hope, that grace, free grace, in a fixed and established surety, shall perfect that good work in you. Happy they who see not, and yet believe. Grace, grace eternally, in our Lord Jesus, be with you. S. R.
Edinburgh, May 27, 1645.
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To LADY KENMURE. [xxix]
Madam, — I have heard of your infirmities of body and sickness. I know the issue shall be mercy to you, and that God's purpose, though it be hidden from you, is to commend the sweetness of his love and care for you, from your youth. And if all the sad losses, trials, sicknesses, infirmities, griefs, heavi- ness, and inconstancy of the creature, be expounded to be (as sure I am they are) the rods of the jealousy of a Husband in heaven, contending with all your lovers on earth, though there were millions of them, for your love, to fetch it home to heaven, single, un- mixed— you will forgive (if we may use that word) every rod of God, and not let the sun go down on your wrath, against any messenger of your afflicting and correcting Father. Since you cannot but see, that the mark at which Christ hath aimed these twenty-four years and more, is to have the company and fellowship of such a sinful creature in heaven with him to all eternity, and because he will not (such is the extent of his love !) enjoy his Father's glory, and that crown due to him by eternal genera- tion, without you. Therefore, Madam, believe no evil of Christ ; listen to no hard reports that his rods make of him to you. He hath loved you, and washed you from your sins, and what would you have more ? Is that too little ? Must he remove all crosses also ? I hope you can desire no more, no greater, nor more excellent suit than Christ, and the fellowship of the Lamb for evermore. And if that desire be answered in heaven, (as I am sure it is, and you cannot deny E 18
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that it is made sure to you,) the want of these poor accidents, of a living husband, of many children, of a healthful body, of a life of ease in the world, are nobly made up, and may be comfortably borne. Grace, grace be with your Ladyship. S. R.
London, Oct 16, 164.5.
To LADY KENMURE. [xxx.]
Madam, — We but dwell here, because we can do no better : it is need, not virtue, that makes us sojourners in a prison ; to weep and sigh, and, alas ! to sin, sixty or seventy years, in a land of tears. The fruits that grow here are all tainted and infected with sin. O ! how sweet it is, that the company of the first-born should be divided into two great bodies of an army, and some in their country, and some in the way to their country. If it were no more but to see once the face of the Prince of this good land, and to dwell for eternity within the rays and beams of matchless glory, and near that incomparable foun- tain-head of love, it were a well-spent journey, though seven deaths lay between. Only let us not grow weary: the miles to that land are fewer and shorter than when we first believed. Travellers are not wise to quarrel with their host, and complain of their lodging : it is a rough way, but a fair home. O that I had but such grapes and clusters out of the land, as I have sometimes seen and tasted in the place of which your ladyship makes mention ! but the hope of it in the end, is a cheerful convoy in the way. If I see little more of the prize till the race
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be ended, I dare not quarrel. It is the Lord !
Grace be with you. Your Ladyship's in Jesus
Clirist, S. R. London, Jan. 26, 1646.
To LADY KENMURE. [xxxi.]
Madam, — Grace, mercy, and peace be to you. I know that you are near many comforters, and that the promised Comforter is near at hand also; yet because I found your Ladyship a comforter to my- self in my sad days, that are not yet over my head, it is my part, and more in many respects, (howbeit I can do little, God knoweth, in that kind,) to speak to you in your wilderness-lot. I know, dear and noble lady, this loss of your dear child came upon you, one piece and part of it after another ; and that you were looking for it, and that now the Almighty hath brought on you that which you feared; and that your Lord gave you lawful warning : and I hope, for his sake who prepared this cup in heaven, you will gladly drink, and salute, and welcome the cross. 1 am sure it is not your Lord's mind to feed you with judgment and wormwood, and to give you waters of gall to drink. I know that your cup is sweetened with mercy ; and that the withering of the bloom, the flower, even the white and red of worldly joys, is for no other end but to secure the reversion of your heart and love. Madam, subscribe to the Almighty's will : put your hand to the pen, and let the cross of your Lord Jesus have your submissive and resolute amen. If you ask and try whose this e2
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cross is, I dare say it is not all your own ; the best half of it is Christ's, It sprang not out of the dust. Christ and you share this suffering; and is not this the language of the word of God — " the fellowship of Christ's sufferings ;" and " the remnant of the afflictions of Christ ;" and " the reproach of Christ ?" Christ, when he joined you to himself, took you and all the crosses and woe-hearts that follow you; and the word maketh no exception — *' In all their afflic- tions, he was afflicted :" then Christ bore the first stroke of this cross : and I shall believe, for my part, he designs to distil heaven out of this loss, and all others like it ; for wisdom devised it, and love laid it on, and Christ owns it as his own, — take it with joy as a visitation of God ; and spend the rest of your appointed time, till your change come, in the work of believing; and let faith, which never yet deceived you, speak for God's part of it. It may be, you think not many of the children of God in such a hard case as yourself; but there are some who would gladly exchange afflictions with you — yet I know yours must be your own alone, and Christ's together. I confess it seemed strange to me, that your Lord should have done that which seems to wither the very root of your worldly comforts ; but we see not to the ground of the Almighty's sovereignty : " He goeth by on our right hand and on our left hand, and we see him not :" we see but pieces of the broken links of the chains of his providence. O let the Former work his own clay, in what frame he pleas- eth ! " Shall any teach the Almighty knowledge ?" If he pursue dry stubble, who dare say, " What dost thou ?" Do not wonder to see the Judge of the
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world weave, in one web, your mercies and the judg- ments of the house of Kenmure. But my weak advice, with reverence and correction, were for you, dear and worthy lady, to see how far mortification goeth on, and what dross the Lord's fire casteth out of you. I do not say heavier afflictions are a proof of heavier guiltiness— a cross is often but a false pro- phet in this kind— but I am sure our Lord would have the base metal in you removed; lest the Lord say, " The bellows are burnt, the lead is consumed in the fire; the founder melteth in vain:" and I shall hope that grief will not so far smother your light, as to prevent you from practising the so neces- sary duty of concurring with him in this blessed de- sign. I would gladly plead for the Comforter's part of it, not against you. Madam, but against your grief; which will have its own violent incursions in your soul, and I think it is not in your power to help it : but I must say, there are comforts still remain- ing to you, and, therefore, slight them not. It is a Christian art to comfort yourself in the Lord; to say, ' I was obliged to render back again this child to the Giver ; I have had several years' loan of him, and now Christ hath possession of him for eternity. If my Lord would not have him and me to meet both in one hour at death's threshold, it is his wis- dom that so appoints it — I am satisfied ; my hour is suspended, not given up.' Madam, I would I could divide sorrow with you : but I am but a beholder — it is easy for me to speak. May the God of com- fort speak to you, and allure you with his feasts of love : whatever joy of soul you get now, will never be missed out of the infinite ocean of delight, which
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is not diminished by drinking at it, or drawing out of it. Madam, my removal from my flock is so heavy to me, that it maketh my life a burden to me. I never had such a lonorinff for death. Grace be with you. Your Ladyship's, at all obedience in Christ,
S. R.
Kirkcudbright, Oct. 1, 1649.
To LADY KENMURE. [xxxii.]
Madam, — Grace, mercy, and peace be to you. We are fallen into winnowing and trying times. I am glad that you hold on to the end, in the same condition and way wherein you have walked these twenty years past. It is either the way of peace, or we are yet in our sins, and have missed the way. The Lord, it is true, hath stained the pride of all our glory ; and now, last of all, the sun hath gone down upon many of the prophets: but stumble not, men are men, and God appeareth more and more to be God, and Christ is still Christ. Madam, I had well nigh stumbled, and been cast down ; but O what mercy is it to discern betwixt what is Christ's and what is man's ! and how much the hue, colour, and lustre, of gifts and graces dazzle and deceive our weak eyes ! Holiness is not Christ; nor are the blossoms and flowers of the tree of life, the tree it- self. Men and the creatures may wind themselves between us and Christ, and therefore the Lord hath done much to take out of the way all betwixt him and us. The fairest things, and most eminent, are stained, and have lost their lustre. Christ alone
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keeps his greenness and beauty, and remaineth what he was. O that he were more and more excellent to our apprehensions, (for his excellence is above all apprehensions,) and still more and more sweet to our $ouls ! I would care for nothing were I but nearer to him ; and yet he flies not from me — 1 flee from him, but he pursueth.— I hear your ladyship hath the same esteem of the despised cause and covenant of our Lord you had before. Madam, hold you there ; I dare, and would gladly breathe out my spirit in that way, with a nearer communion and fellowship with the Father and the Son, and would seek no more, but that I might die believing. The good- will of him that dwelt in the bush be with you. Your Ladyship's, at all observance in the Lord Jesus,
S. R.
Glasgow, Sept. 28, 1651.
To LADY KENMURE. [xxxra.]
Madam, — I have been so long silent that I am almost ashamed now to speak. I hear of your weakly condition of health, which speaks some warning to you to look for a longer life, where you shall have more leisure to praise than time can give you here. It shall be loss to many ; but sure yourself, Madam, shall be free of any loss : and, truly, considering what days we have fallen into, if sailing were not serving of the Lord, (which I can hardly attain,) a calm harbour were very good when storms are so high. The Forerunner, who hath landed first, must bring the sea-beaten vessel safe to the port, and the
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sick passengers safe ashore. Much deadness pre- vaileth over some ; but there is much life in Him, who is " the resurrection and the Hfe," to quicken. Oh, how much of our hidden Ufe is without us, and how httle and poor a stock is in the hand of some ! The only- wise God supply what is wanting: the greater your need, the more is owing to you by the promise of grace — the marriage supper of the Lamb must not be marred by too large a foretaste of hap- piness. Grace be with you. Yours in the Lord, at all observance, S. R.
St. Andrews.
To LADY KENMURE. [xxxiv.]
Madam, — I confess I have reason to be grieved at my long silence, or laziness in writing : I am also afflicted to hear that those who were debtprs to your Ladyship for better dealing, have served you with such prevarication. Yow know crookedness is nei- ther strong nor long-enduring ; and you know, like- wise, that these things spring not out of the dust. It is sweet to look upon the lawless and sinful stir- rings of the creatures, as ordered by a most holy hand in heaven. Oh, if some could make peace with God ! It would be our wisdom, and afford us much sweet peace, if oppressors were looked upon as passive instruments, like the saw or axe in the carpenter's hand : they are hidden, (if such a distinction may be admitted,) but not commanded of God to do what they do. Madam, these many years the Lord hath been teaching you to read and study well the book
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of holy and spotless Sovereignty, in suffering from some who are nigh, and some far off. Whoever be the instruments, the replying of the clay to the Potter, the Former of all, is unbeseeming the crea- ture : I hope he will clear you. But when Zion's public evils lie not nigh some of us, and leave no im- pression upon our hearts, it is no wonder if we are exercised with domestic troubles ; but I know you are taught of God to prefer Jerusalem to your chiefest joy. Madam, there is no cause of fainting : wait upon the not-tarrying vision, for it will speak. The only-wise God be with you, and God, even your own God, bless you. Yours, at all observance in God,
S. R.
St. Andrews, June, 1657.
To the Honourable and Well-beloved PROFESSORS o/" CHRIST and his Truth in sinceriti/, in Ireland.
Dearly-beloved in our Lord, and partakers of the heavenly calling, — Grace, mercy, and peace, be to you, from God our Father, and from our Lord Jesus Christ. I always, but most of all now in my bonds, (most sweet bonds for Christ my Lord I) re- joice to hear of your faith and love. I can, with the greatest assurance, (to the honour of our highest, and greatest, and dearest Lord, let it be spoken,) assert, though I be but a child in Christ, and scarce able to walk but by a hold, and the meanest and less than the least of all saints, that we do not come nigh to the due love and estimation of that fairest among the sons of men. Where can we find a match to E 3
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Christ, or an equal, or a better than he, among cre- ated things ? 1 know that his sackcloth and ashes are better than the fool's laughter, which is like the crackling of thorns under a pot. But, alas ! we do not harden our faces against the cold north storms that blow upon Christ's inheritance. We love well summer religion, and would fain be carried to heaven in a close-covered chariot, wishing from our hearts that Christ would give us surety, and his handwrit- ing and seal, for nothing but fair weather till we be landed at heaven's gates. But O that ye would try and make sure your profession, that ye carry not empty lamps ! Alas ! security, security is the bane and the wreck of the most part of the world. Con- sider how fair before the wind some do ply, with their sails full spread and white, even to the " tasting of the heavenly gift ; and a share and part of the Holy Ghost; and the tasting of the good word of God, and the powers of the world to come :" and yet theirs is but the false show of renovation, and in a short time such are quickly broken upon the rocks, and never fetch the harbour, but are stranded in the bot- tom of hell. O make your haven sure, and try how ve came by your conversion ; that it be not stolen goods, in a white and well-lustred profession ! Woe is me, that the holy profession of Christ is made a stage-garment by many, to bring home a vain fame ; — know, that except men slay the body of sin in sanctified self-denial, they shall never be Christ's faithful witnesses. Oh, if I could be master of that house-idol, myself, my own, my own will, wit, credit and ease, how blessed were I ! O, but we have need to be redeemed from ourselves, rather than from
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the devil and the world ! Learn to put out your- selves, and to put in Christ for yourselves. I should make a sweet exchange, and give old for new, if 1 could substitute Christ my Lord in place of myself; if I could say, not I, but Christ ; not my will, but Christ's; not my ease, not my credit, but Christ, Christ. But, alas ! in leaving ourselves, in setting Christ before our idol self, we yet look back with fondness to our old idol. O wretched idol, myself! when shall I see thee wholly displaced, and Christ wholly put in thy room ? When will all my aims, purposes, thoughts, and desires, rest solely upon him, and not upon myself? But howbeit we cannot attain to this denial of me and mine, that we can say, I am not myself, mine own is no longer mine own ; yet our aiming at this in all we do, shall be accepted. For, alas ! I think I shall die but aiming to be a Chris- tian. Is it not our comfort that Christ, the Mediator of the new covenant, is come betwixt us and God iu the business ? — that now, God be thanked ! our sal- vation is bottomed on Christ ? I would give over the bargain a thousand times, were it not that Christ's free grace hath taken our salvation in hand. I en- treat you earnestly for the aid of your prayers, for I forget not you. Now, the God of peace, that brought again our Lord Jesus from the dead, the great Shep- herd of the sheep, by the blood of the everlasting covenant, make you perfect in every good work, to do his will, working in you that which is well-pleas- ing in his sight. S. R. Aberdeen, Feb. 4^ 163a
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To JOHN GORDON of Cardoness, Elder.
Much-honoured, and dearest in the Lord, — Grace, mercy, and peace be to you. My soul long- eth exceedingly to hear how matters go betwixt you and Christ. Let me be weighed of my Lord in a just balance, if your souls lie not weighty upon me : you go to bed, and you rise with me. Thoughts of your soul, my dearest in the Lord, depart not from me in my sleep : you have a great part of my tears, sighs, supplications, and prayers. Oh, if I could buy your soul's salvation with any sufferings what- ever, and that you and I might meet with joy when we shall stand before our Judge } Woe, woe shall be your part for evermore, if the gospel be not the savour of life unto life to you ! Beheve me, I find heaven a city hard to be won. " The righteous will scarcely be saved :" with what violence will heaven be taken ! Alas ! I see many deceiving themselves : for all will to heaven, all say they have faith ; and the greater part in the world know not, and will not consider, that a slip in the matter of their salvation, is the most pitiful slip that can be, and that no loss is comparable to this loss. O then, see that there be no error in the work of your salvation, for ye will not believe hovv quickly the Judge will come ! And for yourself, I know that death is waiting, and ho- vering, and lingering at God's command, that ye may be prepared : then you had need to make use of your time, and to take eternity and time to your riper advisement. A wrong step, in going out of this life, in one respect, is like the sin against the
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Holy Ghost, and can never be forgiven, because ye cannot come back through the last water to mourn for it. I know your counts arc many, and will take telling, and laying, and reckoning, betwixt you and your Lord, Fit your counts, and order them ; lose not the last play, whatever ye do; for in that play with death, your precious soul is the prize. For the Lord's sake, lose not such a treasure. You know that, out of the love I had to your soul, I testified my displeasure and disliking of your ways very often, both in private and public. I am not now a witness of your doings, but your Judge is always your wit- ness. I beseech you, by the mercies of God, by the salvation of your soul, by your comforts when your eye-strings shall break, and the face wax pale, and the soul shall tremble to be out of the lodging of clay, and by your appearance before your lawful Judge, after the sight of this letter, take a new course with your ways ; and now, in the end of your day, make sure of heaven. Examine yourself if you be in good earnest in Christ; for some are " par- takers of the Holy Ghost, and taste of the good word of God, and of the powers of the life to come,'* and yet have no part in Christ at all. Many think they believe, but never tremble : the devils are farther on than those. Make sure to yourself that you are above ordinary professors : the sixth part of your span-length of days is scarcely before you. Haste, haste, for the tide will not bide. I never knew so well what sin was (howbeit I was preaching of it to you) as since I came to Aberdeen. To stand beside a river of fire and brimstone, broader than the earth, and to think to be bound hand and foot, and cast in
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the midst of it quick, and to have God locking the prison-door, never to be opened for all eternity, O how will it shake a conscience that hath any life in it !
Now, worthy Sir, " seek the Lord and his face; save your soul/' Pray for me, and praise for me. The blessing of my God, the prayers and blessing of a poor prisoner, and your lawful pastor, be upon you.
S. R.
Aberdeen, June 16, 1637.
To the Right Honourable and Christian LADY BOYD.
Madam, — Grace, mercy, and peace be to you, from God our Father, and from our Lord Jesus Christ. For your Ladyship's case, I rejoice ex- ceedingly that the Father of lights hath made you see that there is a point in Christianity which you strive to reach ; and that is, to quit the right eye, and the right hand, and to keep the Son of God. Fear not, Christ will not cast water upon your smok- ing flax ; and who else dare do it, if he say nay ! Be sorry at corruption, and not secure : that companion was as early friends with you as the breath of life. And Christ will not have it otherwise; for he de- lights to take up the fallen, and to heal the sick. Binding up of wounds is his office : many a whole soul is in heaven, which was sicker than ye are. Hiding of his face is wise love : his love is not dot- ing, fond, and reasonless. Nay, his children must often have the frosty, cold side of the hill, and set down their feet among thorns; but his love hath
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eyes, and in the meantime is looking on — our pride must have winter weather to rot it. But I know Christ and you will he one again ; for your anchor- chain ahideth fast within the vail. The end of it is in Christ's hand : who dare pluck it av/ay if he hold ? *' I, the Lord thy God, will hold thy right hand, saying, Fear not, I will help thee ; fear not, Jacob." The sea-sick passenger shall come to land : Christ will be the first that will meet you on the shore.
For my unfaithful self, Madam, I must say a word. At my first coming hither, the enemy tempted me with many a black thought of my Lord Jesus, and said his countenance was changed towards me, and that he would give an evil servant his leave at mid-term : but he gave me grace not to take my leave ; I resolved to wait my summons, howbeit it was suggested and said, " What should be done with a withered tree, but to cast it away?" But now, who is feasted as his poor exiled prisbner ? And though I know that this feast will end, O that I may make use of it when, it may be, a near friend within me, and a challenging devil, will say, Where is thy God ? But let no man after me slander Christ for his cross.
Now, may the great Lord of the covenant estab- lish you, and keep you and yours to his appearance. Yours in the Lord Jesus, S. K.
Aberdeen, March 7, 1637.
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To the Rev. WILLIAM DALGLISH.
Reverend and dear Brother, — Grace, mercy, and peace be to you. I am well, and I verily count more of the suJ0Perings of my Lord than of this world's lustred and over-gilded glory. I dare not say but my Lord hath fully recompensed my sadness with his joys ; my losses with his own presence. I find it a sweet and rich thing to exchange my sorrows with Christ's joys ; my afflictions with that sweet peace I have with himself. Go on, my dear brother, in the strength of the Lord; put Christ's love to the trial, and put upon it burdens, and then it will appear love indeed. We employ not his love, and therefore we know it not. Let us be faithful, and care for our own part, which is to do and suffer for him, and lay Christ's part on himself, and leave it there. Duties are ours; events are the Lord's. When our faith goeth to meddle with events, and to question God's providence, and beginneth to say, " How wilt thou do this and that ?" we lose ground — we have nothing to do there. It is our part to let the Almighty ex- ercise his own office. There is nothing left us but to see how we may be approved of him, and how we may roll the weight of our weak souls, in well-doing, upon him, who is God omnipotent ; and when what we thus essay miscarrieth, it shall neither be our sin nor our cross. S. R.
Aberdeen, 1637.
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To the Rev. HUGH M'KAIL.
Reverend and dear Brother, — I bless you for your letter. He has come down as rain upon the mown grass ; he hath revived my withered root, and he is as the dew of herbs. I am most secure in this prison. Salvation is for walls in it, and what think ye of these walls ? He maketh the dry plant to bud as the lily, and to blossom as Lebanon. The great Husbandman's blessing cometh down upon the plants of righteousness ; who may say this, my dear brother, if I, his poor exiled stranger and prisoner, may not say it ? Though all the world should be silent, I cannot hold my peace. Some have written to me that I am possibly too joyful of the cross ; but my joy overleapeth the cross — it is bounded and termi- nated upon Christ. I know the sun will overcloud and eclipse, and I shall again be put to walk in the shadow. But Christ must be welcome to come and go, as he thinketh meet ; yet he would be more wel- come to me, I own, to come than go. And 1 hope he pitieth and pardoneth me, that he causeth me to taste of his sweetness at such a fainting time as this. Holy and blessed is his name, and I cannot conceal his goodness. I can report nothing but good of him, lest others should faint. I hope, when a change cometh, to cast anchor at midnight upon the Rock, (which he hath taught me to know in this day-light,) whither I must run, when I must believe in the dark. I am sure it is sin not to eat, when he saith, " Eat, O well-beloved ! and drink abundantly." It is good to be ever taking from him. And truly I find
we have the advantage upon our enemies ; we are more than conquerors through him who hath loved us; and they know not wherein our strength Heth. Pray for me. Grace be with you. S. R.
Aberdeen.
To LADY BOYD.
Madam, — I am heavy and sad^ considering what is betwixt the Lord and my soul, which none seeth but he. I find men have mistaken me : it would be no art, as I now see, to spin small, and make hypo- crisy seem a goodly web, and to go through the mar- ket as a saint among men, and yet steal quietly to hell without observation — so easy is it to deceive men. I have doubted whether I ever knew any thing of Christianity, save the letters of that name : men see but as men, and they call ten twenty, and twenty a hundred; but O, to be approved of God in the heart, and in sincerity, is not an ordinary mercy ! My neglects, while I had a pulpit, and other things whereof I am ashamed to speak, meet me now, so as God maketh an honest cross my daily sorrow; and for fear of scandal and stumbling, I must hide this day of the law's pleading. If certainty of salvation were to be bought, God knoweth if I had ten worlds I would not hesitate. I believed, under suflPerings for Christ, that I myself should keep the key of Christ's treasures, and take out comforts when I listed, and eat, and be fat ; but I see now, a sufferer for Christ will be made to know himself, as well as another poor sinner — ray blessing on the cross of
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Christ tliat hath made me see this. O if we could take pains for the kingdom of heaven ! but we are satisfied with some ordinary marks of God's children, thinking we have as much as will separate us from reprobates; and thus the devil casteth water on our fire, and blunteth our zeal and care ; but I see hea- ven is not at the next door; sometimes, however, ray Lord cometh with a fair hour, and O but his love is sweet, comfortable, and delightful ! But our foolish self-love will not be content with a right to Christ, unless we get possession ; but Christ is wise, and knoweth that living on trust by faith may well con- tent us. Madam, I know your ladyship knoweth this, and that made me bold to write of it, that others might reap somewhat by my bonds for the truth ; for I should desire, and I aim at this, to have my Lord well spoken of and honoured, though he should make nothing of me but a bridge over a water.
Thus recommending your ladyship, your son and children, to his grace, who hath honoured you \vith a name and room among the living in Jerusalem, and wishing grace to be with your Ladyship, I remain, yours in the Lord, S. R.
Aberdeen.
To WILLIAM HALLIDAY.
Loving Friend, — I received your letter. I wish you may take pains for salvation; mistaken grace, and somewhat like conversion, which is not conver- sion, is the saddest thing in the world : make sure of salvation, and lay the foundations sure, for many are
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beguiled. Put a low price upon this world : put a high price upon Christ : temptations will come, but if they be not made welcome by you, you have the best of it. Be jealous over yourself, and your own heart. Let not Christ have a faint and feeble sol- dier of you. Acquaint yourself with prayer ; make Christ your Captain and your armour; make con- science of sinning when no eye seeth you. Grace be with you. Yours in Christ Jesus, S. R.
Aberdeen, 1637.
To a Gentlewoman, after the Death of her Husband.
Dear and loving Sister, — I know you are mind- ful of your sweet country, and not taking the place of your banishment for your home : sand-blind were our hope, if it could not look over the water to our best heritage. I marvel not, my dear sister, that you complain that you come short of your old wrest- ling for a blessing, and that you now find it not so. Children are but bribed to learn their lesson, when they first go to school; and it is enough that those who run a race see the gold only at the starting- place ; and possibly they see little more of it, or no- thing at all, till they reach the goal, and get the gold in their own hand; but Christ's love, though under a vail, is still love ; if you win Christ, though not in the sweet and pleasant way you would have him, it is enough ; for the well-beloved cometh not our way, he must choose his way himself. For worldly things, seeing there are meadows and fair flowers in your way to heaven, a glance in passing by is sufficient —
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he that would reckon, and tell all the stones in his way, in a journey of three or four hundred miles, and write in his note-book all the herbs and flowers growing in his way, might come short of his journey. You cannot stay in your inch of time to lose your day, (seeing you are in haste, and the night and your afternoon will not wait for you,) in setting your heart on this vain world. It were your wisdom to read your note-book, and to have in readiness your business against the time you come to death's water- side. I know your lodging is taken; your fore- runner Christ hath not forgotten that, and therefore you must set yourself to one thing, which you cannot well do without. In that our Lord took your hus- band to himself, I know it was that he might make room for himself; he cutteth off your love to the creature, that you might learn that God only is the right owner of your love, sorrow, loss, sadness, death, or the worst things that are. Christ knoweth well how to use these things, and will make us to be obliged to affliction, and to thank God, who made us acquainted with such a rough companion who can force us to Christ. You must learn to make evils your great good, and to spin out comforts, peace, joy, communion with Christ, out of your troubles, for they are Christ's messengers, sent to win you to himself. Thanks to God for crosses: when we count and reckon our losses in seeking God, we find godliness is great gain. I would counsel you to buy hope, but sell it not, and give not away your crosses for nothing : and seeing Christ hath made the cross the way to heaven, let us count it exceeding joy when we fall into divers temptations. Thus recommend-
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irig you to the tender mercy and grace of our Lord, I remain, your loving brother, S. R.
Aberdeen.
To EARLSTOUN, Younger,
Much-honoured and well-beloved in the Lord, — Your letters give a spur to my laziness in writing. I must first tell you there is not such a glassy, slip- pery piece of way, between you and heaven, as youth. I have experience here in what I say, and seal what I assert : the old ashes of the sins of my youth are now fire of sorrow to me. Yet I must tell you, the whole saints now triumphant in heaven, and standing before the throne, are nothing but Christ's insolvent debtors. What are they but redeemed sinners? But their redemption is not only past the seal, but com- pleted; and yours is on the wheels, and in doing. I would be loath to put you ofi* your fears, and your sense of deadness — I would rather wish them to be more, — there are some wounds of that nature that their bleeding should not soon be stopped. You must take a house beside your Physician : it will be a miracle if you be the first sick man he put away un cured, and worse than he found you. Christ is faithful, and he hath said, " Him that cometh to me I will in nowise cast out." Take hold of that : it cannot be presumption to take that as your own, when you find your wounds pain you. Presumption is ever whole at heart, and hath but the truant sick- ness, and groaneth only for the fashion : faith hath sense of sickness, and, looking to Christ in the pro-
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mises, is glad to see therein a known face. He who can tell his tale, and send such a letter to heaven as he hath sent to Aberdeen, is very likely to obtain Christ's hearing — it bodeth God's mercy to complain heartily for sin. Wrestle with Christ till you get his blessing; and his blessing is better than other ten blessings. Be not ashamed because of your guilti- ness— necessity must not blush to beg : — it goes hard with you to be without Christ, and therefore you must cry and knock till he open to you. And for your doubtings, because you are not as you were long since with your Master, consider three things : 1st, What if Christ had such wavering thoughts of the bargain of the new covenant betwixt you and him, as you have ? 2d, It is not referred to you and your thoughts, what Christ will do with the charters between you and him ; your own unbelief hath torn them ; but he hath the principal in heaven with him- self: your thoughts are no part of the new covenant, 3d, Doubtings are your sins, but they are Christ's medicines, which, as a Physician, he maketh use of for the curing of your pride. I may add, 4thly, In the passing of your bill and your charters, when they passed the Mediator's great seal, and were concluded, faith's advice was not sought. Faith hath not a voice beyond Christ's merits: blood, blood, your Surety's dear blood, maketh that sure work. The part of faith now (having already closed with Christ for justification) is, to take out a copy of your par- don ; and so ye have peace with God, upon the ac- count of Christ : for since faith apprehendeth pardon, but never payeth a penny for it, no marvel that sal- vation doth not ebb or flow, die and live, with the
1^0
working of faith — but if guiltiness were removed, doublings would find no friend nor life ; and yet faith is to believe the removal of guiltiness in Christ. A reason why you receive less now, as you think, than before, is, I take it, because at our first conversion, our Lord feedeth his lambs with his own hand, but when we grow to some further perfection, we must take heaven by violence : and Christ doth for a while withhold, because he would have us to draw. Re- member now that you must live by diligence ; laziness is a greater fault now than formerly. Now for my- self: I am not the man I go for among my friends. I am very often so, that I know not whether I sink or swim in the water. I find myself at times lighter than froth. I should weigh lighter than vanity in Christ's balance, if my Lord cast not in borrowed weight and metal, even Christ's righteousness, to weigh for me. The stock I have is not my own ; I am but the merchant that traffics with another one's goods : if my creditor, Christ, were to take from me what he hath lent, I should soon fail; but Christ hath made it mine and his. I think it manhood to play the coward, and take shelter by the side of Christ: thus I am not only " saved from my enemies," but " I obtain the victory." I creep under my Lord's wings in the great shower, and the water cannot reach me. Let fools laugh the fool's laughter, and scorn Christ ; and bid the weeping captives in Baby- lon ** sing" them " one of the songs of Zion;" we may sing even in our winter's storm, in the expecta- tion of a summer's sun at the turn of the year: no created powers in hell, or out of hell, can mar our Lord's work, or spoil our song of joy; let us then
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be glad and rejoice in the salvation of our Lord, for faith had never yet cause to have tearful eyes, or a sullened brow, or to droop or die. Yours in the Lord Jesus, S. R.
Aberdeen, June 16, 1637.
To LADY KILCONQUHAIR.
Madam, — Grace, mercy, and peace be to you. I am glad to hear that you have your face homeward towards your Father's house, now when so many are for a home nearer hand : but your Lord calieth you to another life and glory than is to be found here; and therefore I would counsel you to make sure your claim to salvation. You came to this life about a necessary and weighty business, to treat with Christ about your precious soul, the eternal salvation of it. This is the most necessary business you have in this life ; and your other doings besides this are but toys and feathers, dreams and fancies. This is the most needful, and should be done first. Means are provided in the gospel for your union with Christ. Christ alone is worthy of your soul's love. Christ is a well of life ; but who knoweth how deep it is to the bottom ? Oh you poor, dry, and dead souls ! why will ye not come hither, and fill your empty vessels, your thirsty souls, from this fair, and deep, and sweet well of life ? O to think that Christ should be so large in sweetness and worth, and that we should lose our love so miserably as not to bestow it upon him ! Alas ! these five thousand years and more, Adam's foolish heirs have been F 18
wasting and lavishing out their love and their affec- tions upon dead creatures and broken idols, and have not brought their love and their heart to Jesus. O that there should be so much spoken, and so much written, and so much thought of creature-vanity, and so little thought of the great, and incomprehensible, and admirable Lord Jesus !
Strive, mistress, to force your way through the thorns of this life to reach Christ. Lose not sight of him in this cloudy and dark day ; learn not from the world to serve Christ, but ask himself the way : the world is a false copy, and a deceitful guide to follow. Remember ray love to your husband. I wish all to him I have written here. The sweet presence, the long-lasting good-will of our God, the comforts of our Lord Jesus, be with you. Help me his prisoner in your prayers, for I remember you. Yours in the Lord, S. R.
Aberdeen, August 8, 1637.
To LADY FORRET.
Worthy Mistress, — I long to hear from you. I hear Christ hath been so kind as to visit you with sickness, and to bring you to the door of the grave, but you found the door shut (blessed be his glorious name !) until you be riper for eternity : he will have more service of you. O that Christ had his own of us ! We have all idol love, and are incHned to love other things beside our Lord; and therefore our Iword hunteth for our love more ways than one or two. Yours in the Lord Jesus, S. R.
Aberdeen, March 9, 1637.
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To LADY EARLSTOUN.
Madam, — Grace, mercy, and peace be to you. 1 long to hear how your soul prospereth. I exhort you to go on in your journey; your day is short, and your afternoon sun will soon go down : make an end of your accounts with your Lord ; for death and judgment are tides that wait no man. Salvation is supposed to be at the door, and Christianity is thought an easy task ; but 1 find it hard, and the way strait and narrow, were it not that my Guide is content to wait on me, and to care for a weary traveller. Hurt not your conscience with any known sin : let your children be as so many flowers borrowed from God's garden ; if the flowers die or wither, thank God for a summer's loan of them. Set your heart upon heaven, and trouble not your spirit with this clay-idol of the world, which is but vanity, and hath but the lustre of the rainbow in the air, which cometh and goeth with a flying March shower. The great messenger of the covenant, the Son of God, establish you on your Rock, and keep you to the day of his coming. Yours, S. R.
Aberdeen, March 7, 1637.
To CARLETOUN.
Worthy and much-honoured, — I received your
letter from my brother, to the which I now answer
particularly. I confess two things of myself: 1.
Woe is me that men should think there is any thinn^
F 2
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in me. He is my witness, before whom I am as crystal, that if others saw what I see, they would look by me, but not to me. 2. I know this shower of his free grace was needful for me, otherwise I should have withered. I know also, that I have need of a buffeting tempter, that grace may be put to exercise, and I kept low. Worthy and dear bro- ther, I write that from my heart which ye now read. 1. I vouch, that sighing under the cross of Christ is sweeter to me by far, than all the kingdoms in the world could possibly be. 2. If you and my dearest acquaintance in Christ, reap any fruit by my suffer- ings, let me be weighed in God's even balance, if my joy be not fulfilled. What am I, to carry the marks of such a great King ? 3. Let no man think he shall lose at Christ's hands in suffering for him : herein find I liberty, joy, access, life, comfort, love, faith, submission, patience, and resolution, to take delight in waiting for him — and withal, in my race he hath come near me, and let me see the gold and crown : what then want I but fruition and real en- joyment, which is reserved to my better country? 4. I doubt not but my Lord is preparing me for heavier trials. I am most ready, at the good plea- sure of my Lord, and in the strength of his grace, for any thing he shall be pleased to call me to; neither shall the last messenger, death, be held at the door, when he shall knock. If my Lord will take honour of such a one as me, how glad and joy- ful shall my soul be ! I know that my Master will win the day, and that he hath taken the ordering of my sufferings in his own hand. 5. I am, neverthe- less, often laid in the dust, and urged by the tempter.
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(who can turn our faithless apprehensions to his own account,) to sin against the unchangeable love of my Lord; and when I think upon the sparrows and swallows that build their nests in the kirk at An- woth, and of my dumb Sabbaths, my sorrowful eyes make me look upon Christ as angry with me : but I forbid my thoughts to receive slanders of ray Pre- server. Now, my dearest in Christ, the great mes- senger of the covenant, the only-wise and all-suffi- cient Jehovah, establish you to the end. I hear the Lord hath been at your house, and hath called home your wife to her rest. I know. Sir, that you see the Lord loosing the pins of your tabernacle, and wooing your love from this world, and calling upon you to be making yourself ready to go to your Fa- ther's country, which shall be a sweet fruit of that visitation. You know, to send the Comforter was the King's promise, when he ascended on high. You have claim to, and interest in, that promise.
All love, all mercy, all grace and peace, all multi- plied saving consolations, all joy and faith in Christ, all stability and confirming strength of grace, and the good-will of him that dwelt in the bush, be with you. Your unworthy brother, S. R.
Aberdeen, June 15, 1637.
To JOHN GORDON, at Risco, in Galloway.
My worthy and dear Brother, — Mispend not your short sand-glass, which runneth very fast ; seek your Lord in time : let me obtain of you a letter, under your own hand, for a promise to God, by his grace.
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to take a new course of walking with God. Hea- ven is not at the next door; I find it hard to be a Christian ; there is no Httle striving and pressing to get in at heaven's gates ; it is a castle taken by force: " Many shall strive to enter in, and shall not be able." I beseech you in the Lord, make conscience of rash and passionate oaths, of raging and sudden revenging anger, of drinking, of needless company, of Sabbath-breaking, of hurting any one under you by word or deed, of hating your very enemies. " Except ye receive the truth as a little child," and be as meek and gentle as a babe, " ye cannot enter into the kingdom of God :" that is a word that should touch you near, and make you stoop and cast your- self down, and make your great spirit fall. I know this will not be easily done ; but I recommend it to you, as you value your part of the kingdom of hea- ven. Brother, I may, from new experience, speak of Christ to you. O if you saw in him what I now see ! A river of God's unseen joys have flowed over my soul since I parted with you : I would gladly be without part, so that you might have it. This clay- idol, the world, would seem to you then not worth a fig : time will eat you out of possession of it. When your eye-strings break, and the breath groweth cold, and the imprisoned soul looketh out at the windows of the clay-house, ready to leap out into eternity, what would you then give for a lamp full of oil ? O seek it now !
What I write to you, I write to your wife. — Grace be with you. Your loving Pastor, S. R. Aberdeen, March 14., 1637.
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To LADY HALHILL.
Dear and Christian Lady, — I longed much to write to your Ladyship ; but now the Lord offering a fit occasion, I would not omit to do it. I cannot but acquaint your ladyship with the kind dealing of Christ to my soul in this house of my pilgrimage, that your ladyship may know that Christ is as good as he is called; for at my first entry into this trial, (being cast down and troubled with jealousies of his love, whose name and testimony I now bear in my bonds,) I feared that I was but a dry tree cast out of the vineyard ; but, blessed be his name ! the dry tree was in the fire, but was not burned, his dew came down and quickened the root of a withered plant, and now he is come again with joy, and hath been pleased to feast his afflicted prisoner with the joy of his consolations : now I weep, but am not sad ; I am chastened, but I die not; I have loss, but I want nothing ; this water cannot drown me, this fire cannot burn me, because of the good-will of him that dwelt in the bush. The worst things of Christ — his reproaches, his cross — are better than Egypt's treasures : he hath opened his door, and taken a poor sinner into his house of wine. Remember my ser- vice to your husband, and to your son, my acquain- tance. I wish Christ had his young love, and that in the morning he would start to the gate, to seek that which this world knoweth not, and therefore doth not seek it. — The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you. Yours in the Lord, S. R. Aberdeen, March 14, 1637.
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To LADY BOYD.
My very honourable and Christian Lady, — I received your letter, and am well pleased that your thoughts of Christ stay with you, and that your purpose still is, by all means, to take the kingdom of heaven by violence, which is no small conquest : and it is a degree of watchfulness, and thankfulness also, to observe sleepiness and unthankfulness. We have all good cause to complain of false light, that playeth the thief, and stealeth away the lantern ,- when it comes to the practice of constant walking with God, our journey is broken ten times a day. I have been somewhat nearer the Bridegroom; but when I draw nigh, and see my vileness, for shame I would be out of his presence again. O what am J, to stand beside the high and holy Lord who in- habiteth eternity ! And for Christ's joyful coming and going, which your ladyship speaketh of, I bear with it as love can permit : it should be enough to me, if I were wise, that Christ will have joy and sorrow share the lives of the saints, as the night and the day are the kindly partners and sharers of time; but if sorrows take the great half of our days here, I know joy's day shall dawn, and do more than re- compense all our sad hours. Let the Lord Jesus, if his will be so, weave my span-length of time with white and black, weal and woe, in one web; let the rose be neighboured with the thorn : yet hope, that maketh not ashamed, hath told the mourners in Zion that it shall not be long so. In this hope I sleep quietly in Christ's bosom till he come, who i$
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not slack ; and should sleep on, were it not that the cries of an unbelieving heart awaken me. O if I could please myself in Christ only !
All your ladyship can expect for your good-will to me and my brother, is the prayers of a prisoner of Jesus, to whom I recommend your ladyship's house and children, and in whom I am. Madam, your Lady- ship's in Christ, S. R. Aberdeen, Sept. 8, 1637.
To MARGARET BALLANTINE.
Mistress, — Grace, mercy, and peace be unto you. It is more than time I should have written to you; but it is yet good time, if I could help your soul to mend its pace, and to go more swiftly towards your heavenly country ; for truly ye have need to make all haste, because the inch of your day that remain- eth will quickly slip away — for whether we sleep or wake, our glass runneth, and time waiteth for no man. Beware of being deceived in the matter of your salvation : woe, woe to them for evermore that lose the prize; for what remains when the soul is once lost, but that they lie down in sorrow, and are clothed with everlasting shame ! I would seek no further measure of faith to begin withal, than to be- lieve really and steadfastly the doctrine of God's justice, his all-devouring wrath and everlasting burn- ings wherewith sinners are burned, body and soul. Alas ! the greater part of this world run to the place of that torment rejoicing and dancing, eating, and drinking, and sleeping. My counsel is, that ye f3
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start in time to follow after Christ ; for if ye go quickly, ye shall overtake him. O Lord God ! what is so needful as this — Salvation ? Fy upon this condemned and foolish world, that would give so little for salvation. O ! if free salvation were proclaimed in that day when the trumpet of God shall awake the dead, how many buyers would there then be ! Therefore look if you can give out your money (as Isaiah speaketh, chap. Iv. 2.) for bread, and take Christ and his blood for a pledge of hea- ven : it is a dry and hungry part that the Esaus of the world hunt after. I see thousands following the chase, and in the pursuit of such things, while, in the meantime, they lose the blessing; and, when all is done, they have caught nothing, but lie down hungry, and go to their bed in the dark : for God saith to them, Isa. 1. 11. " This shall ye have at my hand, ye shall lie down in sorrow :" and truly he cannot sleep smoothly, nor rest sweetly, who hath sorrow for his pillow. Rouse up, therefore, your soul, and ask how Christ and your soul have met together. I am sure they never won Christ who were never sick at heart for him — too many whole souls think they have met with Christ, who had never a wearied night for the want of him : but, alas ! what the richer are men that they dreamed the last night they had much gold, and when they awoke in the morning they found it was but a dream ? I beseech you, in the Lord Jesus, beware of unsound work in the matter of your salvation. You may not, you cannot, do without Christ ; then, after this day, make a covenant with Christ, that thereafter there may be no happiness to you but Christ — no seeking
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for any thing but Christ. Woe upon all love but the love of Christ !
Thus recommending Christ to you, and you to him, for evermore, I rest. Grace be with you. Yours in the Lord Jesus, S. R.
Aberdeen, 1637.
To MARGARET REID.
My dear and worthy Sister, — You are truly blessed of the Lord, however an unkind world frown upon you, if you continue in the faith, grounded and settled, and be not moved away from the hope of the gospel. It is good there is a heaven, and it is not a night-dream or a fancy : it is a wonder that men do not deny there is a heaven, as they deny that there is a way to it but of men's making. You