Sic subscribitur,
R. HAMILTON.
Borrowstoness
Sept. 5th, 1701.
And so, after he had come through many tribulations, and at last endured a series of sore bodily affliction, in all which he was still kept faithful, in testifying for the word of Christ's patience, until he yielded up his life to that God who gave him his being, at Borrowstoness, Oct. 21st, being then 51 years of age; and because thou hast kept the word of my patience, I will also keep thee from the hour of temptation, which shall come upon all the world, to try them that dwell upon the earth.
Thus ended another of Christ's faithful witnesses, Sir Robert Hamilton, who (for soundness in the faith, true piety, the real exercise of godliness, a conversation becoming the gospel, and a true understanding of the right state of the Lord's cause in every part thereof, accompanied with a true love and affection to, and zeal according to knowledge for the same), with stedfastness and stability to the last, maintained his cause against every opposition (being equally superior to the influence of fear or flattery); and was preferable to the most part of his station in that age; and without flattery it may be said, he was an honour to the name of Hamilton and to his nation. The faithful Mr. Renwick called him Mi pater, my father, and ever had a high esteem and regard for him, as the contents of most part of his letters bear: Yea, in the very last letter he wrote, he accosts him thus, "If I had lived and been qualified for writing a book, and if it had been dedicated to any, you would have been the man; for I have loved you, and I have peace before God in that; and I bless his name that ever I have been acquainted with you, &c." And indeed he was not mistaken in him, for he was one who both professed and practiced truth, was bold in Christ's cause, and had ventured life, wealth, reputation and all, in defence thereof. He was of such constancy of life and manners, that it might be truly said of him, which was said of the emperor Marcus Antoninus, In omni vita sui similis, nec ulla unquam in re mutatus fuit. Itaque vere fuit vir bonus, nec fictum aut simulatum quicquam habuit.
An Acrostic on his Name.
Sin wrought our death, death strikes and none doth spare;
It levels sceptres with the plowing-share;
Raging among poor mortals every where.
Religion's lovers death must also own,
Or this brave soul his life had not laid down.
But weep not: Why? death challenges but dross,
Eternal gain compensates temporal loss;
Rest from his labour, sickness, grief and pain:
This makes him happy, and our mourning vain.
Had he not reason rather to be glad
At death's approach, that life he never had
Must meet him there? He enters now that land,
In view of which, believing, he did stand,
Longing for ling'ring death; still crying, Come;
Take me, Lord, hence, unto my father's home.
O faithless age! of glory take a sight;
Nor death nor grave shall then so much affright.