CXCVIII.--_To the_ LAIRD OF CALLY.
[Of JOHN LENNOX, Laird of Cally, near Girthon, in the Stewartry of
Kirkcudbright, to whom this letter is addressed, little is now known.
He must have died previous to the 26th of January 1647, as at that
date John Lennox of Cally is retoured heir of John Lennox of Cally,
his father, "in the 20 pound land of Caliegertown, the 10 merk land of
Burley, with mill and fishings of the same, within the parish of
Girthon."
The modern mansion of Cally may be said, with its woods, to overhang
the village of _Gatehouse_, which also is entirely modern, and got its
name from the fact that the lodge, or gatehouse, of Cally was the
first house built on that spot. The old house has disappeared, any
remnant of it being quite hid by the fine old trees of the mansion. It
is properly in the parish of Girthon, but borders on Anwoth. The land
of "Calie-gerton," mentioned in the above extract, is evidently "Cally
in Girthon." _Gatehouse_ is one-half in Anwoth, and one-half in
Girthon. The old parish church of Girthon is very like that of Anwoth,
and more ivy-covered. It is in shape the same, 64 feet by 20. The
martyr _Lennox_ is buried close to the door; a slab marks the spot. It
is 2½ miles from Gatehouse. The Free Church of Anwoth is in
Gatehouse, the church being on the _Girthon_ side of the stream (the
Fleet), and the manse on the _Anwoth_ side. The Fleet (which is
navigable by very small vessels thus far) was formerly called Avon,
"the water;" and this is the syllable that appears in both Girth-ON
and An-WOTH,--the former signifying "the village (or enclosure) on the
water;" and the latter, "the _ford_ of the water;" unless "woth" be
for "_worth_," village. The meaning of "Cally" seems to be "wood,"
from the Gaelic, "coille."]
(_SPIRITUAL SLOTH--DANGER OF COMPROMISE--SELF, THE ROOT OF ALL
SIN--SELF-RENUNCIATION._)
MUCH HONOURED SIR,--Grace, mercy, and peace be to you.--I long to hear
how your soul prospereth. I have that confidence that your soul
mindeth Christ and salvation. I beseech you, in the Lord, to give more
pains and diligence to fetch heaven than the country-sort of lazy
professors, who think their own faith and their own godliness, because
it is their own, best; and content themselves with a coldrife custom
and course, with a resolution to summer and winter in that sort of
profession which the multitude and the times favour most; and are
still shaping and clipping and carving their faith, according as it
may best stand with their summer sun and a whole skin; and so breathe
out hot and cold in God's matters, according to the course of the
times. This is their compass which they sail towards heaven by,
instead of a better. Worthy and dear Sir, separate yourself from
such, and bend yourself to the utmost of your strength and breath, in
running fast for salvation; and, in taking Christ's kingdom, use
violence. It cost Christ and all His followers sharp showers and hot
sweats, ere they won to the top of the mountain; but still our soft
nature would have heaven coming to our bedside when we are sleeping,
and lying down with us that we might go to heaven in warm clothes. But
all that came there found wet feet by the way, and sharp storms that
did take the hide off their face, and found tos and fros, and ups and
downs, and many enemies by the way.
It is impossible that a man can take his lusts to heaven with him;
such wares as these will not be welcome there. Oh, how loath are we to
forego our packalds and burdens, that hinder us to run our race with
patience! It is no small work to displease and anger nature, that we
may please God. Oh, if it be hard to win one foot, or half an inch,
out of our own will, out of our own wit, out of our own ease and
worldly lusts (and so to deny ourself, and to say, "It is not I but
Christ, not I but grace, not I but God's glory, not I but God's love
constraining me, not I but the Lord's word, not I but Christ's
commanding power as King in me!"), oh, what pains, and what a death is
it to nature, to turn me, myself, my lust, my ease, my credit, over
into, "My Lord, my Saviour, my King, and my God, my Lord's will, my
Lord's grace!" But, alas! that idol, that whorish creature, _myself_,
is the master-idol we all bow to. What made Eve miscarry? and what
hurried her headlong upon the forbidden fruit, but that wretched thing
_herself_? What drew that brother-murderer to kill Abel? That
wild[313] _himself_. What drove the old world on to corrupt their
ways? Who, but _themselves_, and their own pleasure? What was the
cause of Solomon's falling into idolatry and multiplying of strange
wives? What, but _himself_, whom he would rather pleasure than God?
What was the hook that took David and snared him first in adultery,
but his _self-lust_? and then in murder, but his _self-credit_ and
_self-honour_? What led Peter on to deny his Lord? Was it not a piece
of _himself_, and _self-love_ to a whole skin? What made Judas sell
his Master for thirty pieces of money, but a piece of _self-love_,
idolizing of avaricious _self_? What made Demas to go off the way of
the Gospel, to embrace this present world? Even _self-love_ and love
of gain for himself. Every man blameth the devil for his sins; but
the great devil, the house-devil of every man, the house-devil that
eateth and lieth in every man's bosom, is that idol that killeth all,
_himself_. Oh, blessed are they who can deny themselves, and put
Christ in the room of themselves! Oh, would to the Lord that I had not
a _myself_, but Christ; nor a _my lust_, but Christ; nor a _my ease_,
but Christ; nor a _my honour_, but Christ! O sweet word! "_I_ live no
more, but Christ liveth in me!" (Gal. ii. 20). Oh, if every one would
put away himself, his own self, his own ease, his own pleasure, his
own credit, and his own twenty things, his own hundred things, which
he setteth up, as idols, above Christ! Dear Sir, I know that ye will
be looking back to your old self, and to your self-lust, and
self-idol, which ye set up in the lusts of youth above Christ.
[313] Untamed, unruly.
Worthy Sir, pardon this my freedom of love; God is my witness, that it
is out of an earnest desire after your soul's eternal welfare that I
use this freedom of speech. Your sun, I know, is lower, and your
evening sky and sunsetting nearer, than when I saw you last: strive to
end your talk before night, and to make Christ _yourself_, and to
acquaint your love and your heart with the Lord. Stand now by Christ
and His truth, when so many fail foully, and are false to Him. I hope
that ye love Him and His truth: let me have power with you, to confirm
you in Him. I think more of my Lord's sweet cross than of a crown of
gold, and a free kingdom lying to it.
Sir, I remember you in my prayers to the Lord, according to my
promise. Help me with your prayers, that our Lord would be pleased to
bring me amongst you again, with the Gospel of Christ.
Grace, grace be with you.
Yours, in his sweetest Lord and Master,