(_CHRIST ALLWORTHY AND BEST AT OUR LOWEST--SINFULNESS OF THE
LAND--PRAYERS._)
MISTRESS,--I know that ye are thinking sometimes what Christ is doing
in Zion, and that the haters of Zion may get the bottom of our cup,
and the burning coals of our furnace that we have been tried in, those
many years bygone. Oh, that this nation would be awakened to cry
mightily unto God, for the setting up of a new tabernacle to Christ
in Scotland. Oh, if this kingdom knew how worthy Christ were of His
room! His worth was ever above man's estimation of Him.
And for myself I am pained at the heart, that I cannot find myself
disposed to leave myself and go wholly into Christ. Alas! that there
should be one bit of me out of Him, and that we leave too much liberty
and latitude for ourselves, and our own ease, and credit, and
pleasures, and so little room for all-love-worthy Christ. Oh, what
pains and charges it costeth Christ ere He get us! and when all is
done, we are not worth the having. It is a wonder that He should seek
the like of us. But love overlooketh blackness and fecklessness; for
if it had not been so, Christ would never have made so fair and
blessed a bargain with us as the covenant of grace is. I find that in
all our sufferings Christ is but redding marches, that every one of us
may say, "Mine, and thine;" and that men may know by their crosses,
how weak a bottom nature is to stand upon in trial; that the end which
our Lord intendeth, in all our sufferings, is to bring grace into
court and request amongst us. I should succumb and come short of
heaven, if I had no more than my own strength to support me; and if
Christ should say to me, "Either do or die," it were easy to determine
what should become of me. The choice were easy, for I behoved to die
if Christ should pass by with straitened bowels; and who then would
take us up in our straits? I know we may say that Christ is kindest in
His love, when we are at our weakest; and that if Christ had not been
to the fore, in our sad days, the waters had gone over our soul. His
mercy hath a set period, and appointed place, how far and no farther
the sea of affliction shall flow, and where the waves thereof shall be
stayed. He prescribeth how much pain and sorrow, both for weight and
measure, we must have. Ye have, then, good cause to recall your love
from all lovers, and give it to Christ. He who is afflicted in all
your afflictions, looketh not on you in your sad hours with an
insensible heart or dry eyes.
All the Lord's saints may see that it is lost love which is bestowed
upon this perishing world. Death and judgment will make men lament
that ever their miscarrying hearts carried them to lay and lavish out
their love upon false appearances and night-dreams. Alas! that Christ
should fare the worse, because of His own goodness in making peace and
the Gospel to ride together; and that we have never yet weighed the
worth of Christ in His ordinances, and that we are like to be
deprived of the well, ere we have tasted the sweetness of the water.
It may be that with watery eyes, and a wet face, and wearied feet, we
seek Christ, and shall not find Him. Oh, that this land were humbled
in time, and by prayers, cries, and humiliation, would bring Christ in
at the church-door again, now when His back is turned towards us, and
He is gone to the threshold, and His one foot, as it were, is out of
the door! I am sure that His departure is our deserving; we have
bought it with our iniquities; for even the Lord's own children are
fallen asleep, and, alas! professors are made all of shows and
fashions, and are not at pains to recover themselves again. Every one
hath his set measure of faith and holiness, and contenteth himself
with but a stinted measure of godliness, as if that were enough to
bring him to heaven. We forget that as our gifts and light grow, so
God's gain and the interest of His talents, should grow also; and that
we cannot pay God with the old use and wont (as we use to speak) which
we gave Him seven years ago; for this were to mock the Lord, and to
make price with Him as we list. Oh, what difficulty is there in our
Christian journey, and how often come we short of many thousand things
that are Christ's due! and we consider not how far our dear Lord is
behind with us.
Mistress, I cannot render you thanks, as I would, for your kindness to
my brother, an oppressed stranger; but I remember you unto the Lord as
I am able. I entreat you to think upon me, His prisoner, and pray that
the Lord would be pleased to give me room to speak to His people in
His name.
Grace, grace be with you.
Yours in his sweet Lord and Master,