ABERDEEN, _March 7, 1637_.
CXIV.--_To the much Honoured WILLIAM RIGG, of Athernie, in Fife, near
Leven._
[WILLIAM RIGG of Athernie, in the capacity of one of the bailies
of Edinburgh, "gave great evidence" (says Livingstone) "that he
had the spirit of a magistrate beyond many, being a terror to all
evil-doers." He took an active part against all attempts to
introduce Prelacy, and contributed liberally to the printing of
such books as "crossed the course of Conformity." In March 1624,
a committee of the Privy Council, by the authority of the King,
deprived Rigg of his office, fined him in fifty thousand pounds
Scots, and ordered him to be warded in Blackness Castle till the
sum was paid, and afterwards to be confined in Orkney. This
sentence, however, was afterwards mitigated. He was distinguished
above most for devoting a large portion of his income to
religious purposes. Such was his liberality, that one said, "To
my certain knowledge, he spends yearly more on pious uses than
all my estate is worth; and mine will be towards 8 or 9000 merks
(about £350) in the year." He was a man of much prayer, and
generally commenced with deep and bitter complaints and
confession of sin, but ended with unspeakable assurance, and joy
and thanksgiving. His death took place on the 2nd of January
1644, and is thus recorded by Sir Thomas Hope, in his "Diary"
(p. 201): "This day, my worthy cousin, William Rigg of Athernie,
departed, at his house of Athernie, having taken bed on Sunday of
before, and died on the third day. The Lord prepare me; for this,
next to my dearest son, is a heavy stroke." The old house of
_Athernie_ stood a little inland from the present mansion; only a
gable of the old house remains. It overlooked a pretty glen
through which runs a burn that falls into the sea near the
churchyard of _Scoonie_.]
(_SUSTAINING POWER OF CHRIST'S LOVE--SATAN'S OPPOSITION--YEARNINGS FOR
CHRIST HIMSELF--FEARS FOR THE CHURCH._)
MUCH HONOURED SIR,--Grace, mercy, and peace be to you. I received your
long-looked-for and short letter. I would that ye had spoken more to
me, who stand in need. I find Christ, as ye write, aye the longer the
better; and therefore cannot but rejoice in His salvation, who hath
made my chains my wings, and hath made me a king over my crosses, and
over my adversaries. Glory, glory, glory to His high, high and holy
name! Not one ounce, not one grain-weight more is laid on me than He
hath enabled me to bear; and I am not so much wearied to suffer as
Zion's haters are to persecute. Oh, if I could find a way, in any
measure, to strive to be even with Christ's love! But that I must give
over. Oh, who would help a dyvour to pay praises to the King of
saints, who triumpheth in His weak servants!
I see that if Christ but ride upon a worm or feather, His horse will
neither stumble nor fall. The worm Jacob is made by Him a new, sharp
threshing instrument, having teeth, to thresh the mountains, and beat
them small, and to make the hills as chaff, and to fan them so as the
wind shall carry them away, and the whirlwind shall scatter them (Isa.
xli. 14-16). Christ's enemies are but breaking their own heads in
pieces, upon the Rock laid in Zion; and the stone is not removed out
of its place. Faith hath cause to take courage from our very
afflictions; the devil is but a whetstone to sharpen the faith and
patience of the saints. I know that he but heweth and polisheth
stones, all this time, for the new Jerusalem.
But in all this, three things have much moved me, since it hath
pleased my Lord to turn my moon-light into day-light. _First_, He hath
yoked me to work, to wrestle with Christ's love; of longing wherewith
I am sick, pained, fainting, and like to die because I cannot get
Himself; which I think a strange sort of desertion. For I have not
Himself, whom if I had, my love-sickness would cool, and my fever go
away; at least, I should know the heat of the fire of complacency,
which would cool the scorching heat of the fire of desire. (And yet I
have no penury of His love!) And so I dwine, I die, and He seemeth not
to rue on me. I take instruments in His hand, that I would have Him,
but I cannot get Him; and my best cheer is black hunger. I bless Him
for that feast.
_Secondly_, Old challenges now and then revive, and cast all down. I
go halting and sighing, fearing there be an unseen process yet coming
out, and that heavier than I can answer. I cannot read distinctly my
surety's act of cautionary for me in particular, and my discharge; and
sense, rather than faith, assureth me of what I have; so unable am I
to go but by a hold.[209] I could, with reverence of my Lord, forgive
Christ, if He would give me as much faith as I have hunger for Him. I
hope the pardon is now obtained, but the peace is not so sure to me as
I would wish. Yet, one thing I know, there is not a way to heaven but
the way which He hath graced me to profess and suffer for.
[209] Ps. lxxiii. 23.
_Thirdly_, Wo, wo is me for the virgin-daughter of Scotland, and for
the fearful desolation and wrath appointed for this land! And yet all
are sleeping, eating and drinking, laughing and sporting, as if all
were well. Oh, our dim gold! our dumb, blind pastors! The sun is gone
down upon them, and our nobles bid Christ fend for Himself, if He be
Christ. It were good that we should learn in time the way to our
stronghold.
Sir, howbeit not acquainted, remember my love to your wife. I pray God
to establish you.
Yours in his sweet Lord Jesus,