(_CHRIST ALL WORTHY--THIS WORLD A CLAY PRISON--DESIRE FOR A REVIVAL OF
CHRIST'S CAUSE._)
WORTHY AND DEAR BROTHER,--Grace, mercy, and peace be to you.--I have
been too long in writing to you, but multitude of letters taketh much
time from me.
I bless His great name whom I serve in the spirit, that if it come to
voting, amongst angels and men, how excellent and sweet Christ is,
even in His reproaches and in His cross, I cannot but vote with the
first that all that is in Him, both cross and crown, kisses and
glooms, embracements, and frownings, and strokes, is sweet and
glorious. God send me no more happiness in heaven, or out of heaven,
than Christ! for I find this world, when I have looked upon it on both
sides, within and without, and when I have seen even the laughing and
lovely side of it, to be but a fool's idol, a clay prison. Lord, let
it not be the nest that my hope buildeth in. I have now cause to judge
my part of this earth not worth a blast of smoke, or a mouthful of
brown bread. I wish that my hope may take a running-leap, and skip
over time's pleasure, sin's plastering and gold-foil, this vain earth,
and rest upon my Lord. Oh, how great is our night-darkness in this
wilderness! To have any conceit at all of this world is, as if a man
should close his handful of water, and, holding his hand in the river,
to say that all the water of the flood is his; as if it were, indeed,
all within the compass of his hand. Who would not laugh at the
thoughts of such a crack-brain? Verily, they have but an handful of
water, and are but like a child clasping his two hands about a
night-shadow, who idolize any created hope, but God. I now lightly,
and put the price of a dream, or fable, or black nothing, upon all
things but God, and that desirable and love-worthy One, my Lord Jesus.
Let all the world be nothing (for nothing was their seed and mother),
and let God be all things.
My very dear brother, know that ye are as near heaven as ye are far
from yourself, and far from the love of a bewitching and whorish
world. For this world, in its gain and glory, is but the great and
notable common whore, that all the sons of men have been in fancy and
lust withal these 5000 years. The children that they have begotten
with this uncouth and lustful lover are but vanity, dreams, gold
imaginations, and night-thoughts. There is no good ground here, under
the covering of heaven, for men and poor wearied souls to set down
their foot upon. Oh, He who is called God, that One whom they term
Jesus Christ, is worth the having indeed, even if I had given away all
without, my eye-holes, my soul, and myself, for sweet Jesus my Lord!
Oh, let the claim be cancelled that the creatures have to me,--except
that claim my Lord Jesus hath to me! Oh that He would claim poor me,
my silly, light, and worthless soul! Oh that He would pursue His claim
to the utmost point, and not want me! for it is my pain and remediless
sorrow to want Him. I see nothing in this life but sinks, and mires,
and dreams, and beguiling ditches, and ill ground for us to build
upon.
I am fully persuaded of Christ's victory in Scotland; but I fear that
this land be not yet ripe and white (John iv. 35) for mercy. Yet I
dare be halver (upon my salvation) with the losses of the Church of
Scotland, that her foes, after noon, shall sing dool and sorrow for
evermore, and that her joy shall once again be cried up, and her sky
shall clear. But vengeance and burning shall be to her adversaries,
and the sinners of this land. Oh that we could be awakened to prayers
and humiliation! Then should our sun shine like seven suns in the
heaven! then should the temple of Christ be builded upon the
mountain-tops, and the land, from coast to coast, should be filled
with the glory of the Lord.
Brother, your day-task is wearing short; your hour-glass of this
span-length and hand-breadth of life will quickly pass; and,
therefore, take order and course with matters betwixt you and Christ,
before it come to open pleading. There are no quarters to be had of
Christ, in open judgment. I know, that ye see your thread wearing
short, and that there are not many inches to the thread's end; and,
therefore, lose not time.
Remember me, His prisoner, that it would please the Lord to bring me
again amongst you with abundance of the Gospel.
Grace, grace be with you.
Yours, in his sweet Lord Jesus,