ABERDEEN, _March 14, 1637_.
CLIII.--_To_ BETHAIA AIRD.
[The name _Aird_ is not uncommon in the history of the Church. _Mr.
Wm. Aird_ was a noted minister in Edinburgh in Livingstone's days.
Wodrow's "History" mentions _Aird of Muirkirk_, and also _John Aird_
of Milton. In the memoir of Walter Pringle of Greenknow, we find
_James Aird_ was his intimate friend. But whether this correspondent
was related to any of them, we know not. She may have been simply an
Anwoth parishioner.]
(_UNBELIEF UNDER TRIAL--CHRIST'S SYMPATHY AND LOVE._)
WORTHY SISTER,--Grace, mercy, and peace be unto you. I know that ye
desire news from my prison, and I shall show you news. At my first
entry hither, Christ and I agreed not well upon it. The devil made a
plea in the house, and I laid the blame upon Christ; for my heart was
fraughted with challenges, and I feared that I was an outcast, and
that I was but a withered tree in the vineyard, and but held the sun
off the good plants with my idle shadow, and that, therefore, my
Master had given the evil servant the fields, to send him. Old
guiltiness (as witness) said, "All is true." My apprehensions were
with child of faithless fears, and unbelief put a seal and amen to
all. I thought myself in a hard case. Some said I had cause to rejoice
that Christ had honoured me to be a witness for Him; and I said in my
heart, "These are words of men, who see but mine outside, and cannot
tell if I be a false witness or not."
If Christ had in this matter been as wilful and short as I was, my
faith had gone over the brae, and broken its neck. But we were well
met,--a hasty fool, and a wise, patient, and meek Saviour. He took no
law-advantage of my folly, but waited on till my ill-blood was fallen,
and my drumbled and troubled well began to clear. He was never a whit
angry at the fever-ravings of a poor tempted sinner; but He mercifully
forgave, and came (as it well becometh Him), with grace and new
comfort, to a sinner who deserved the contrary, And now He is content
to kiss my black mouth, to put His hand into mine, and to feed me with
as many consolations as would feed ten hungry souls. Yet I dare not
say that He is a waster of comforts, for no less would have borne me
up; one grain-weight less would have casten the balance.
Now, who is like to that royal King, crowned in Zion! Where shall I
get a seat for real Majesty to set Him on? If I could set Him as far
above the heaven as thousand thousands of heights devised by men and
angels, I should think Him but too low. I pray you, for God's sake, my
dear sister, to help me to praise. His love hath neither brim nor
bottom; His love is like Himself, it passeth all natural
understanding. I go to fathom it with my arms; but it is as if a child
would take the globe of sea and land in his two short arms. Blessed
and holy is His name! This must be His truth which I now suffer for;
for He would not laugh upon a lie, nor be witness with His comforts to
a night-dream.
I entreat for your prayers; and the prayer and blessing of a prisoner
of Christ be upon you. Grace be with you.
Yours in his sweet Lord Jesus,