ABERDEEN, 1637.

CLXV.--_To_ MR. THOMAS GARVEN.

[THOMAS GARVEN, one of the ministers of Edinburgh. "R. Blair's

Life," by Row, tells of his being banished from the town by the

King in 1662, for his adherence to Presbytery.]

(_PERSONAL INSUFFICIENCY--GRACE FROM CHRIST ALONE--LONGINGS AFTER

HIM._)

REVEREND AND DEAR BROTHER,--Grace, mercy, and peace be to you. I am

sorry that what joy and sorrow drew from my imprisoned pen in my

love-fits hath made you and many of God's children believe that there

is something in a broken reed the like of me. Except that Christ's

grace hath bought such a sold body, I know not what else any may think

of me, or expect from me. My stock is less (my Lord knoweth that I

speak truth) than many believe. My empty sounds have promised too

much. I should be glad to lie under Christ's feet, and kep and receive

the off-fallings, or the old pieces of any grace, that fall from His

sweet fingers to forlorn sinners. I lie often, unco-like, looking at

the King's windows. Surely I am unworthy of a seat in the King's

hall-floor; I but often look afar off, both feared and fremmed-like,

to that fairest face, fearing He bid me look away from Him. My

guiltiness riseth up upon me, and I have no answer for it. I offered

my tongue to Christ, and my pains in His house: and what know I what

it meaneth, when Christ will not receive my poor propine? When love

will not take, we expone that it will neither take nor give, borrow

nor lend. Yet Christ hath another sea-compass which He saileth by,

than my short and raw thoughts. I leave His part of it to Himself. I

dare not expound His dealing as sorrow and misbelief often dictate to

me. I look often with bleared and blind eyes to my Lord's cross; and

when I look to the wrong side of His cross, I know that I miss a step

and slide. Surely, I see that I have not legs of my own for carrying

me to heaven: I must go in at heaven's gates, borrowing strength from

Christ.

I am often thinking, "Oh, if He would but give me leave to love Him,

and if Christ would but open up His wares, and the infinite plies, and

windings, and corners of His soul-delighting love, and let me see it,

backside and foreside; and give me leave but to stand beside it, like

a hungry man beside meat, to get my fill of wondering, as a preface to

my fill of enjoying!" But, verily, I think that my foul eyes would

defile His fair love to look to it. Either my hunger is over humble

(if that may be said), or else I consider not what honour it is to get

leave to love Christ. Oh, that He would pity a prisoner, and let out a

flood upon the dry ground! It is nothing to Him to fill the like of

me; one of His looks would do me meikle world's good, and Him no ill.

I know that I am not at a point yet with Christ's love: I am not yet

fitted for so much as I would have of it. My hope sitteth neighbour

with meikle black hunger: and certainly I dow not but think that there

is more of that love ordained for me than I yet comprehend, and that I

know not the weight of the pension which the King will give me. I

shall be glad if my hungry bill get leave to lie beside Christ,

waiting on an answer. Now I should be full and rejoice, if I got a

poor man's alms of that sweetest love; but I confidently believe that

there is a bed made for Christ and me, and that we shall take our fill

of love in it. And I often think, when my joy is run out, and at the

lowest ebb, that I would seek no more than my rights passed the King's

great seal, and that these eyes of mine could see Christ's hand at the

pen.

If your Lord call you to suffering, be not dismayed; there shall be a

new allowance of the King for you when you come to it. One of the

softest pillows Christ hath is laid under His witnesses' head, though

often they must set down their bare feet among thorns. He hath brought

my poor soul to desire and wish, "Oh that my ashes, and the powder I

shall be dissolved into, had well-tuned tongues to praise Him!"

Thus in haste, desiring your prayers and praises, I recommend you to

my sweet, sweet Master, my honourable Lord, of whom I hold all. Grace

be with you.

Your own, in his sweet Lord Jesus,

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