109. To ALEXANDER GORDON of Knockgray. Dear brother, As as Race, mercy and peace be to you. I long to hear how your foul profpereth: I expected letters from you ere now. for myfelf, I am here in good cafe, well feafted with a great King: at my first coming here, I was that bold, as to take up a jealousy of Chrift's love; I said I was caft over the dike of the Lord's vineyard, as a dry tree; but I fee, if I had been a withered branch, the fire would have burnt me long ere now: bleffed be his high name, who hath kept fap in the dry tree; and now, if Chrift had done the wrong, he hath made the amends, and hath miskent my ravings; (for a man under the water cannot well command his wit, far lefs his faith and love) because it was a fever, my Lord Jefus forgave me that, amongst the reft: he knoweth, in our afflictions, we can find a spot in the fairest face that ever was, even in Christ's face. I would not have believed that a gloom should have made me to mifken my old Mafter; but we must be whiles fick ficknefs is but kindly to both faith and love. But O how exceedingly is a poor dawted prifoner obliged to fweet Jefus! My tears are fweeter to me, than the laughter of the fourteen prelates to them; the worst of Chrift, even his chaff, is better than the world's corn. Dear brother, I beseech you, I charge you, in the name and authority of the Son of God, help me to praise his highnefs; and I charge you also, to tell all your acquaintance, that my Mafter may get many thanks. O if my hairs, all my members, and all my bones, were well tuned tongues, to fing the high praises of my great and glorious King! Help me to lift Chrift up upon his throne, and to lift him up above all the thrones of the clay-kings, the dying fcepter bearers of this world. The prifoner's bleffing, the blefling of him that was feparated from his brethren, be upon them all, who will lend me a lift in this work, Shew this to that people with you to whom fometimes I preached. Brother, my Lord hath brought me to this, that I will not flatter the world for a drink of water : I am no debtor to clay; Chrift hath made me dead to that: I now wonder, that ever I was fuch a child long fince, as to beg at fuch beggars! fy upon us, who woo fuch a black skinned hariot, when we may get fuch a fair, fair match in heaven. Oh that I could give up with this clay-idol, this masked, painted, dirt, that Adam's fons adore! we make an idol of our will; as many lufts in us, as many gods, we are all god makers: we are like to lofe Chrift, the true God, in the throng of thefe new and falfe gods. Scotland hath caft her crown off her head; the virgindaughter hath loft her garland: wo, wo to our harlot-mother: our day is coming, a time when women fhall wish they had been X childled Epift. 110 childless, and fathers fhall bless miscarrying wombs and dry breasts: many houfes great and fair shall be defolate. This kirk shall fit on the ground all the night, and the tears fhall run down her cheeks: the fun hath gone down upon her prophets; blessed are the prifoners of hope, who can run in to their ftrong hold, and hide themfelves for a little till the indignation be overpaft. Commend me to your wife, your daughters, your fon-in-law, and to A. T. Write to me the cafe of your kirk. Grace be with you. I am much moved for my brother; I intreat for your kindness and couníel to him, Aberdeen, Feb. 23. 1637. Tours in his fweet Lord Jefus, S. R. IIO. To my Lady MARR younger. My very noble and dear Lady, Race, mercy and peace be to you. I received your Ladyship's letter, which hath comforted my foul. God give you to find mercy in the day of Chrift. I am in as good terms and court with Chrift, as an exiled oppreffed prifoner of Christ can be; I am ftill welcome to his houfe; he knoweth my knock, and letteth in a poor friend. Under this black rough tree of the crofs of Christ, he hath ravifhed me with his love, and taken my heart to heaven with him; well and long may he bruik it. I would not niffer Chrift with all the joys that man or angels can devife beside him. Who hath fuch caufe to speak honourably of Chrift as I have? Chrift is king of all croffes, and he hath made his faints little kings under him, and he can ride and triumph upon weaker bodies than I am, (if any can be weaker) and his horse will neither fall nor ftumble. Madam, your Ladyfhip hath much ado with Chrift, for your foul, husband, children, and houfe; let him find much employment for his calling with you; for he is fuch a friend as delighteth to be burdened with fuits and employments; and the more ye lay on him, and the more homely ye be with him the more welcome. O the depth of Chrift's love! It hath neither brim nor bottom. O if this blind world faw his beauty! When I count with him for his mercies to me, I must stand still and wonder, and go away as a poor dyvour who hath nothing to pay; free forgivenefs is my payment. I would I could get him fet on high; for his love hath made me fick, and I die except I get real poffeffion. Grace be with you,' Aberd. March 13. Your Ladyfbip's at all obedience 1637. in Chrift, S. R. III. T JAMES MACADAM. My very dear and worthy friend, Race, mercy and peace be to you: I long to hear of your growing in grace, and of your advancing in your journey to heaven: it will be the joy of my heart, to hear that ye hold your face up the brae, and wade through tentations, without fearing what man can do. Chrift fhall, when he arifeth, mow down his enemies, and lay bulks (as they ufe to fpeak) on the green, and fill the pits with dead bodies, Pfal. cx. 6. they fhall ly like handfuls of withered hay, when he arifeth to the prey. Salvation, falvation, is the only neceffary thing: this clay-idol, the, world, is not to be fought; it is a morfel not for you, but for hunger-bitten baftards. Contend for falvation: your master Christ won heaven with strokes; it is a befieged castle, it must be taken with violence. Oh, this world thinketh heaven but at the next door, and that godlinefs may fleep in a bed of down, till it come to heaven, but that will not do it. For myself, I am as well as Chrift's prisoner can be; for by him I am master and king of all my croffes; I am above the prifon, and the lafh of mens tongues: Chrift triumpheth in me. I have been caften down, and heavy with fears, and hunted with challenges: I was fwimming in the depths, but Chrift had his hand under my chin all the time, and took good heed that I should not lofe breath: and now I have gotten my feet again, and there are love-feafts of joy, and springtides of confolation betwixt Chrift and me: we agree well; I have court with him, I am still welcome to his house. O my fhort arms cannot fathom his love! I befeech you, I charge you, help me to praife. Ye have a prifoner's prayers, therefore forget me not. I defire Sibilla to remember me dearly to all in that parifh who know Christ, as if I had named them. Grace, grace be with you, I Aberdeen, March 13. 1637. Yours in his fweet Lord Jefus, S. R. 112. To my very dear brother WILLIAM LIVINGSTON. My very dear brother, Rejoice to hear that Chrift hath run away with your young love, and that ye are fo early in the morning matched with fuch a Lord; for a young man is often a dreffed lodging for the devil to dwell in. Be humble and thankful for grace, and weigh it not fo much by weight, as if it be true; Chrift will not caft water on your fmoaking coal, he never yet put out a dim candle, that was lighted at the fun of righteoufnefs. I recommend to you prayer and watching over the fins of your youth; for I know Epift. 112. miffive letters go between the devil and young blood; Satan hath a friend at court in the heart of youth; and there pride, luxury, luft, revenge, forgetfulness of God, are hired as his agents. Happy is your foul, if Chrift man the house, and take the keys him felf, and command all! (as it fuiteth him full well, to rule all wherever he is:) keep him, and entertain Christ well, cherish his grace, blow upon your own coal, and let him tutor you. Now, for myself, know, I am fully agreed with my Lord: Chrift hath put the Father and me in others arms; many a sweet bargain he made before, and he hath made this among the rest. I reign as king over my croffes; I will not flatter a temptation, nor give the devil a good word; I defy hell's iron. gates: God hath past over my quarrelling of him at my entry here, and now he feedeth and feafteth with me: praise, praise with me; and let us exalt his name together. Aberd. March 13. 1637. Your brother in Chrift, S. R. 113. TO WILLIAM GORDON of White-park. Worthy Sir, ga GRace, mercy and peace be unto you. I long to bear from you. I am here the Lord's prifoner and patient, handled as foftly by my Phyfician, as if I were a fick man under cure. I was at hard terms with my Lord, and pleaded with him; but I had the worft fide: it is a wonder he should have fuffered the like of me to have nicknamed the Son of his love, Chrift, and to call him a changed Lord who had forfaken me; but misbelief hath never a good word to speak of Chrift. The drofs of my cross thered a fcum of fears in the fire, doubtings, impatience, unbelief, challenging of providence as fleeping, and not regarding my forrow; but my goldsmith, Chrift, was pleafed to take off the fcum, and burn it in the fire. And, bleffed be my finer, he hath made the metal better, and furnished new fupply of grace to cause me hold out weight; and I hope he hath not lofed one grainweight, by burning his fervant. Now his love in my heart cafteth a mighty heat: he knoweth, that the defire I have to be at himself paineth me. I have fick nights, and frequent fits of lovefevers for my Well beloved; nothing paineth me now but want of prefence: I think it long till day; I challenge time, as too flow in its pace, that holdeth my only, only fair One, my Love, my Well beloved, from me: O if we were together once! I am like an old crazed fhip that hath endured many ftorms, and that would fain be in the lot of the fhore, and feareth new ftorms: I would be that nigh heaven, that the fhadow of it might break the force of the ftorm, and the crazed fhip might win to land. My Lord's fun cafteth a heat of love and. beam of light on my foul. 165 My bleffing thrice every day upon the fweet crofs of Chrift: I am not ashamed of my garland, the banished minifter, (which is the term of Aberdeen :) love, love defieth reprobates; the love of Christ hath a corflet of proof on it, and arrows will not draw blood of it: we are more than conquerors, through the blood of him that loved us, Rom. viii. the devil and the world they cannot wound the love of Christ. I am further from yielding to the course of defection, than when I came hither: fufferings blunt not the fiery edge of love; caft love in the floods of hell, it will fwim above: it careth not for the world's bufked and plaiftered offers. It hath pleafed my Lord, fo to line my heart with the love of my Lord Jefus, that, as if the field were already won, and I on the other fide of time, I laugh at the world's golden pleasures, and at this dirty idol, that the fons of Adam worfhip: this worm-eaten god is that which my foul hath fallen out of love with. Sir, ye were once my hearer: I defire now to hear from you and your wife; I falute her and your children with bleffings: I am glad, that ye are still hand-feafted with Chrift: go on in your journey, and take the city by violence; keep your garments clean, be clean virgins to your husband the Lamb: the world fhall follow you to heaven's gates; and ye would not wish it to go in with you. Keep faft Chrift's love: pray for me, as Ido for you; the Lord Jefus be with your spirit. Aberd. March 13. 1637. Yours in his fweet Lord 114. To Mr. GEORGE GILLESPIE. Reverend and dear brother, Received your letter. As for my cafe, brother, I bless his glorious name, my loffes are my gain, my prifon a palace, and my fadnefs joyfulness. At my firft entry, my apprehenfions wrought fo upon my crofs, that I became jealous of the love of Chrift, as being by him thrust out of the vineyard, and I was under great challenges (as ordinarily melted gold cafteth forth a droffy fcum, and Satan and our corruption form the first words that the heavy cross fpeaketh, and fay, God is angry, he loveth you not) but our apprehenfions are not canonical; they dite lies of God and Chrift's love. But fince my fpirit was fettled, and the clay fallen to the bottom of the well, I fee better what Chrift was doing; and now my Lord is returned with falvation under his wings; now I want little of half a heaven, and I find Chrift every day fo fweet, comfortable, lovely, and kind, as three things only trouble me: 1. I fee not how to be thankful, or how to get help to praife that royal King, who raifeth up thofe that are bowed down. 2. His love pineth me, and woundeth |