[CLXXXVIII.—To Mr. John Fergushill of Ochiltree.]
(DESPONDING VIEWS OF HIS OWN STATE—MINISTERIAL DILIGENCE—CHRIST'S WORTH—SELF-SEEKING.)
R EVEREND AND DEAR BROTHER,—Grace, mercy and peace be to you. My longings and desires for a sight of the new-builded tabernacle of Christ again in Scotland, that tabernacle that came down from heaven, hath now taken some life again, when I see Christ making a mint to sow vengeance among His enemies. I care not, if this land be ripe for such a great, wonderful mercy; but I know He must do it, whenever it is done, without hire. I find the grief of my silence, and my fear to be holden at the door of Christ's house, swelling upon me; and the truth is, were it not that I am dawted now and then with pieces of Christ's sweet love and comforts, I fear I should have made an ill browst of this honourable cross, that I know such a soft and silly-minded body as I am is not worthy of. For I have little in me but softness, and superlative and excessive apprehensions of fear, and sadness, and sorrow; and often God's terrors do surround me, because Christ looketh not so favourably upon me as a poor witness would have Him. And I wonder how I have past a year and a quarter's imprisonment without shaming my sweet Lord, to whom I desire to be faithful; and I think I shall die but even[304] minting and aiming to serve and honour my Lord Jesus. Few know how toom and empty I am at home; but it is a part of marriage-love and husband-love, that my Lord Jesus goeth not to the streets with His chiding against me. It is but stolen and concealed anger that I find and feel, and His glooms to me are kept under roof, that He will not have mine enemies hear what is betwixt me and Him. And, believe me, I say the truth in Christ, that the only gall and wormwood in my cup, and that which hath filled me with fear, hath been, lest my sins, that sun and moon and the Lord's children were never witness to, should have moved my Lord to strike me with dumb Sabbaths. Lord, pardon my soft and weak jealousies, if I be here in an error.
My very dear brother, I would have looked for larger and more particular letters from you, for my comfort in this; for your words before have strengthened me. I pray you to mend this; and be thankful and painful, while ye have a piece or corner of the Lord's vineyard to dress. Oh, would to God that I could have leave to follow you, to break the clods! But I wish I could command my soul to be silent, and to wait upon the Lord. I am sure that while Christ lives, I am well enough friend-stead. I hope that He will extend His kindness and power for me; but God be thanked it is not worse with me than a cross for Christ and His truth. I know that He might have pitched upon many more choice and worthy witnesses, if He had pleased; but I seek no more (be what timber I will, suppose I were made of a piece of hell) than that my Lord, in His infinite art, hew glory to His name, and enlargement to Christ's kingdom, out of me. Oh that I could attain to this, to desire that my part of Christ might be laid in pledge for the heightening of Christ's throne in Britain! Let my Lord redeem the pledge; or, if He please, let it sink and drown unredeemed. But what can I add to Him? or what way can a smothered and borne-down prisoner set out Christ in open market, as a lovely and desirable Lord to many souls? I know that He seeth to His own glory better than my ebb thoughts can dream of; and that the wheels and paces of this poor distempered kirk are in His hands; and that things shall roll as Christ will have them:—only, Lord, tryst the matter so, as Christ may be made a householder and lord again in Scotland, and wet faces for His departure may be dried at His sweet and much-desired welcome-home! I see that, in all our trials, our Lord will not mix our wares and His grace overhead through other; but He will have each man to know his own, that the like of me may say in my sufferings, "This is Christ's grace, and this is but my coarse stuff: This is free grace, and this is but nature and reason." We know what our legs would play us, if they should carry us through all our waters. And the least thing our Lord can have of us, is to know we are grace's dyvours, and that nature is of a base house and blood, and grace is better born, and of kin and blood to Christ, and of a better house. Oh that I were free of that idol which they call myself; and that Christ were for myself; and myself a decourted cypher, and a denied and forsworn thing! But that proud thing, myself, will not play, except it ride up side for side with Christ, or rather have place before Him. O myself (another devil, as evil as the prince of devils!), if thou couldst give Christ the way, and take thine own room, which is to sit as low as nothing or corruption! Oh, but we have much need to be ransomed and redeemed by Christ from that master-tyrant, that cruel and lawless lord, ourself. Nay, when I am seeking Christ, and am out of myself, I have the third part of a squint eye upon that vain, vain thing, myself, myself, and something of mine own. But I must hold here.
I desire you to contribute your help, to see if I can be restored to my wasted and lost flock. I see not how it can be, except the lords would procure me a liberty to preach; and they have reason. 1. Because the opposers and my adversaries have practised their new canons upon me, whereof one is, that no deprived minister preach, under the pain of excommunication. 2. Because my opposing of these canons was a special thing that incensed Sydserff against me.[305] 3. Because I was judicially accused for my book against the Arminians, and commanded by the Chancellor to acknowledge that I had done a fault in writing against Dr. Jackson, a wicked Arminian.[306] Pray for a room in the house to me.
Grace, grace be (as it is) your portion.
Yours, in his sweet Lord Jesus,
S. R.