LXXXIV.--_To_ JEAN BROWN.
[JEAN BROWN was the mother of the well-known Mr. John Brown,
minister of Wamphray in Annandale, who, after the restoration of
Charles II., was ejected from his charge and banished from the
King's dominions for his opposition to Prelacy. She was a woman
of intelligence and piety.]
(_THE JOYS OF THIS LIFE EMBITTERED BY SIN--HEAVEN AN OBJECT OF
DESIRE--TRIAL A BLESSED THING._)
MISTRESS,--Grace, mercy, and peace be unto you. I long to hear how
your soul prospereth. I earnestly desire your on-going toward your
country. I know that ye see your day melteth away by little and
little, and that in a short time ye shall be put beyond time's bounds;
for life is a post that standeth not still, and our joys here are born
weeping, rather than laughing, and they die weeping. Sin, sin, this
body of sin and corruption embittereth and poisoneth all our
enjoyments. O that I were where I shall sin no more! O to be freed of
these chains and iron fetters, which we carry about with us! Lord,
loose the sad prisoners! Who of the children of God have not cause to
say, that they have their fill of this vain life? and, like a full and
sick stomach, to wish at mid-supper that the supper were ended, and
the table drawn, that the sick man might win to bed, and enjoy rest?
We have cause to tire at mid-supper of the best messes that this world
can dress up for us; and to cry to God, that He would remove the table
and put the sin-sick souls to rest with Himself. O for a long play-day
with Christ, and our long-lasting vacance of rest! Glad may their
souls be that are safe over the frith, Christ having paid the fraught.
Happy are they who have passed their hard and wearisome time of
apprenticeship, and are now freemen and citizens in that joyful, high
city, the New Jerusalem.
Alas! that we should be glad of and rejoice in our fetters, and our
prison-house, and this dear inn, a life of sin, where we are absent
from our Lord, and so far from our home. O that we could get bonds and
law-suretyship of our love, that it fasten not itself on these
clay-dreams, these clay-shadows, and worldly vanities! We might be
oftener seeing what they are doing in heaven, and our hearts more
frequently upon our sweet treasure above. We smell of the smoke of
this lower house of the earth, because our hearts and our thoughts are
here. If we could haunt up with God, we should smell of heaven and of
our country above; and we should look like our country, and like
strangers, or people not born or brought up hereaway. Our crosses
would not bite[174] upon us if we were heavenly-minded. I know of no
obligation which the saints have to this world, seeing we fare but
upon the smoke of it; and, if there be any smoke in the house, it
bloweth upon our eyes. All our part of the table is scarce worth a
drink of water; and when we are stricken, we dare not weep, but steal
our grief away betwixt our Lord and us, and content ourselves with
stolen sorrow behind backs. God be thanked that we have many things
that so stroke us against the hair that we may pray, "God keep our
better home, God bless our Father's house; and not this smoke, that
bloweth us to seek our best lodging." I am sure that this is the best
fruit of the cross, when we, from the hard fare of the dear inn, cry
the more that God would send a fair wind, to land us, hungered and
oppressed strangers, at the door of our Father's house, which now is
made, in Christ, our kindly heritage. Oh! then, let us pull up the
stakes and stoups of our tent, and take our tent on our back, and go
with our flitting to our best home; for here we have no continuing
city.
[174] Leave the mark of their teeth.
I am waiting in hope here, to see what my Lord will do with me. Let
Him make of me what He pleaseth; providing He make glory to Himself
out of me, I care not. I hope, yea, I am now sure, that I am for
Christ, and all that I can or may make is for Him. I am His
everlasting dyvour, and still shall be; for, alas, I have nothing for
Him, and He getteth but little service of me! Pray for me, that our
Lord would be pleased to give me houseroom, that I may serve Him in
the calling which He hath called me unto. Grace be with you.
Yours, in his sweet Lord Jesus,