(_THE PAST AND THE FUTURE--PRESENT HAPPINESS._)
WORTHY SIR,--Grace, mercy, and peace be to you.--I am well, honour be
to God! as well as a rejoicing prisoner of Christ can be, hoping that
one day He, for whom I now suffer, will enlarge me, and put me above
the threatenings of men.
I am sometimes sad, heavy, and casten down, at the memory of the fair
days I had with Christ in Anwoth, Kirkcudbright, etc. The remembrance
of a feast increaseth hunger in a hungry man. But who knoweth, but our
Lord will yet cover a table in the wilderness to His hungry bairns,
and build the old waste places in Scotland, and bring home Zion's
captives? I desire to see no more glorious sight, till I see the Lamb
on His throne, than to see Mount Zion all green with grass, and the
dew lying upon the tops of the grass, and the crown put upon Christ's
head in Scotland again. And I believe it shall be so, and that Christ
will mow down His enemies, and fill the pits with their dead bodies.
I find people here dry and unco. A man pointed at for suffering dare
not to be countenanced; so that I am like to sit my lone upon the
ground. But my Lord payeth me well home again; for I have neither
tongue, nor pen, nor heart to express the sweetness and excellency of
the love of Christ. Christ's honeycombs drop honey and floods of
consolation upon my soul. My chains are gold: Christ's cross is all
over-gilded and perfumed: His prison is the garden and orchard of my
delights. I would go through burning quick to my lovely Christ. I
sleep in His arms all the night, and my head betwixt His breasts. My
Well-beloved is altogether lovely. This is all nothing to that which
my soul hath felt. Let no man, for my cause, scaur at Christ's cross.
If my stipend, place, country, credit, had been an earldom, a kingdom,
ten kingdoms, and a whole earth, all were too little for the crown and
sceptre of my royal King. Mine enemies, mine enemies have made me
blessed! They have sent me to the Bridegroom's chamber. Love is His
banner over me. I live a king's life; I want nothing but heaven, and
possession of the crown. My earnest is great; Christ is no niggard to
me. Dear Brother, be for the Lord Jesus, and His heart-broken bride.
I need not, I hope, remember my distressed brother to your care.
Remember my love to your wife. Let Christ want nothing of us; His
garments shall be rolled in the blood of the slain of Scotland.
Grace, grace be with you. Pray for Christ's prisoner.
Yours, in his sweet Lord Jesus,