Aberdeen, March 7, 1637.
[CXIV.—To the much Honoured William Rigg, of Athernie, in Fife, near Leven.]
[William Rigg of Athernie, in the capacity of one of the bailies of Edinburgh, "gave great evidence" (says Livingstone) "that he had the spirit of a magistrate beyond many, being a terror to all evil-doers." He took an active part against all attempts to introduce Prelacy, and contributed liberally to the printing of such books as "crossed the course of Conformity." In March 1624, a committee of the Privy Council, by the authority of the King, deprived Rigg of his office, fined him in fifty thousand pounds Scots, and ordered him to be warded in Blackness Castle till the sum was paid, and afterwards to be confined in Orkney. This sentence, however, was afterwards mitigated. He was distinguished above most for devoting a large portion of his income to religious purposes. Such was his liberality, that one said, "To my certain knowledge, he spends yearly more on pious uses than all my estate is worth; and mine will be towards 8 or 9000 merks (about £350) in the year." He was a man of much prayer, and generally commenced with deep and bitter complaints and confession of sin, but ended with unspeakable assurance, and joy and thanksgiving. His death took place on the 2nd of January 1644, and is thus recorded by Sir Thomas Hope, in his "Diary" (p. 201): "This day, my worthy cousin, William Rigg of Athernie, departed, at his house of Athernie, having taken bed on Sunday of before, and died on the third day. The Lord prepare me; for this, next to my dearest son, is a heavy stroke." The old house of Athernie stood a little inland from the present mansion; only a gable of the old house remains. It overlooked a pretty glen through which runs a burn that falls into the sea near the churchyard of Scoonie.]
(SUSTAINING POWER OF CHRIST'S LOVE—SATAN'S OPPOSITION—YEARNINGS FOR CHRIST HIMSELF—FEARS FOR THE CHURCH.)
M UCH HONOURED SIR,—Grace, mercy, and peace be to you. I received your long-looked-for and short letter. I would that ye had spoken more to me, who stand in need. I find Christ, as ye write, aye the longer the better; and therefore cannot but rejoice in His salvation, who hath made my chains my wings, and hath made me a king over my crosses, and over my adversaries. Glory, glory, glory to His high, high and holy name! Not one ounce, not one grain-weight more is laid on me than He hath enabled me to bear; and I am not so much wearied to suffer as Zion's haters are to persecute. Oh, if I could find a way, in any measure, to strive to be even with Christ's love! But that I must give over. Oh, who would help a dyvour to pay praises to the King of saints, who triumpheth in His weak servants!
I see that if Christ but ride upon a worm or feather, His horse will neither stumble nor fall. The worm Jacob is made by Him a new, sharp threshing instrument, having teeth, to thresh the mountains, and beat them small, and to make the hills as chaff, and to fan them so as the wind shall carry them away, and the whirlwind shall scatter them (Isa. xli. 14-16). Christ's enemies are but breaking their own heads in pieces, upon the Rock laid in Zion; and the stone is not removed out of its place. Faith hath cause to take courage from our very afflictions; the devil is but a whetstone to sharpen the faith and patience of the saints. I know that he but heweth and polisheth stones, all this time, for the new Jerusalem.
But in all this, three things have much moved me, since it hath pleased my Lord to turn my moon-light into day-light. First, He hath yoked me to work, to wrestle with Christ's love; of longing wherewith I am sick, pained, fainting, and like to die because I cannot get Himself; which I think a strange sort of desertion. For I have not Himself, whom if I had, my love-sickness would cool, and my fever go away; at least, I should know the heat of the fire of complacency, which would cool the scorching heat of the fire of desire. (And yet I have no penury of His love!) And so I dwine, I die, and He seemeth not to rue on me. I take instruments in His hand, that I would have Him, but I cannot get Him; and my best cheer is black hunger. I bless Him for that feast.
Secondly, Old challenges now and then revive, and cast all down. I go halting and sighing, fearing there be an unseen process yet coming out, and that heavier than I can answer. I cannot read distinctly my surety's act of cautionary for me in particular, and my discharge; and sense, rather than faith, assureth me of what I have; so unable am I to go but by a hold.[209] I could, with reverence of my Lord, forgive Christ, if He would give me as much faith as I have hunger for Him. I hope the pardon is now obtained, but the peace is not so sure to me as I would wish. Yet, one thing I know, there is not a way to heaven but the way which He hath graced me to profess and suffer for.