ABERDEEN, _Dec. 30, 1636_.
[169] I have no want of.
LXXIV.--_To the_ LADY CULROSS.
"These are they which came out of great tribulation, and have washed
their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb."--REV.
vii. 14.
(_HIS OWN MISCONCEPTION OF CHRIST'S WAYS--CHRIST'S KINDNESS._)
MADAM,--Grace, mercy, and peace be multiplied upon you. I greatly long
to be refreshed with your letter. I am now (all honour and glory to
the King eternal, immortal, and invisible!) in better terms with
Christ than I was. I, like a fool, summoned my Husband and Lord, and
libelled unkindness against Him; but now I pass from that foolish
pursuit; I give over the plea. He is God, and I am man. I was loosing
a fast stone, and digging at the ground-stone, the love of my Lord, to
shake and unsettle it. But, God be thanked, it is fast; all is sure.
In my prison He hath shown me daylight; He dought not hide His love
any longer. Christ was disguised and masked, and I apprehended it was
not He; but He hath said, "It is I, be not afraid;" and now His love
is better than wine. O that all the virgins had part of the
Bridegroom's love whereupon He maketh me to feed. Help me to praise. I
charge you, Madam, help me to pay praises; and tell others, the
daughters of Jerusalem, how kind Christ is to a poor prisoner. He hath
paid me my hundred-fold; it is well told me, and one to the hundred. I
am nothing behind with Christ. Let not fools, because of their lazy
and soft flesh, raise a slander and an ill report upon the cross of
Christ. It is sweeter than fair.
I see grace groweth best in winter. This poor persecuted kirk, this
lily amongst the thorns, shall blossom, and laugh upon the gardener;
the husbandman's blessing shall light upon it. O if I could be free of
jealousies of Christ, after this, and believe, and keep good quarters
with my dearest Husband! for He hath been kind to the stranger. And
yet in all this fair hot summer weather, I am kept from saying, "It is
good to be here,"[170] with my silence, and with grief to see my
mother wounded and her veil taken from her, and the fair temple casten
down. My belly is pained, my soul is heavy for the captivity of the
daughter of my people, and because of the fury of the Lord, and His
fierce indignation against apostate Scotland. I pray you, Madam, let
me have that which is my prayer here, that my sufferings may preach to
the four quarters of this land; and, therefore, tell others how
open-handed Christ had been to the prisoner and the oppressed
stranger. Why should I conceal it? I know no other way how to glorify
Christ, but to make an open proclamation of His love, and of His soft
and sweet kisses to me in the furnace, and of His fidelity to such as
suffer for Him. Give it me under your hand, that ye will help me to
pray and praise; but rather to praise and rejoice in the salvation of
God. Grace, grace be with you.
Yours in his dearest and only, only Lord Jesus,