I recommend to you the mending of a hole, and reforming of a failing, one or other, every week; and put off a sin, or a piece of it, as anger, wrath, lust, intemperance, every day, that ye may more easily master the remnant of your corruption. God hath given you a wife; love her, and let her breasts satisfy you; and, for the Lord's sake, drink no waters but out of your own cistern. Strange wells are poison. Strive to learn some new way against your corruption from the man of God, Mr. W. D. [William Dalgleish], or other servants of God. Sleep not sound, till ye find yourself in that case that ye dare look death in the face, and durst hazard your soul upon eternity. I am sure that many ells and inches of the short thread of your life are by-hand since I saw you; and that thread hath an end; and ye have no hands to cast a knot, and add one day, or a finger-breadth, to the end of it. When hearing, and seeing, and the outer walls of the clay house shall fall down, and life shall render the besieged castle of clay to death and judgment, and ye find your time worn ebb, and run out, what thoughts will you then have of idol-pleasures, that possibly are now sweet? What bud or hire would you then give for the Lord's favour? and what a price would you then give for pardon? It were not amiss to think, "What if I were to receive a doom, and to enter into a furnace of fire and brimstone? What if it come to this, that I shall have no portion but utter darkness? And what if I be brought to this, to be banished from the presence of God, and to be given over to God's serjeants, the devil and the power of the second death?" Put your soul, by supposition, in such a case, and consider what horror would take hold of you, and what ye would then esteem of pleasing yourself in the course of sin. Oh, dear Sir, for the Lord's sake awake to live righteously, and love your poor soul! And after ye have seen this my letter, say with yourself, "The Lord will seek an account of this warning which I have received."
Lodge Christ in your family. Receive no stranger hireling as your pastor. I bless your children. Grace be with you.
Your lawful and loving pastor,
S. R.
Aberdeen, 1637.
[CC.—To Robert Gordon, Bailie of Ayr. [Letter CXXIX.]
(THE MISERY OF MERE WORLDLY HOPE—EARNESTNESS ABOUT SALVATION.)
W ORTHY SIR,—Grace, mercy, and peace be to you.—I long to hear from you. Our Lord is with His afflicted kirk, so that this Burning Bush is not consumed to ashes. I know that submissive on-waiting for the Lord will at length ripen the joy and deliverance of His own, who are truly blessed on-waiters. What is the dry and miscarrying hope of all them who are not in Christ, but confusion and wind? Oh, how pitifully and miserably are the children of this world beguiled, whose wine cometh home to them water, and their gold brass and tin! And what wonder, that hopes builded upon sand should fall and sink? It were good for us all to abandon the forlorn, and blasted, and withered hope which we have had in the creature; and let us henceforth come and drink water out of our own well, even the fountain of living waters, and build ourselves and our hope upon Christ our Rock. But, alas! that that natural love which we have to this borrowed home that we were born in, and that this clay city, the vain earth, should have the largest share of our heart! Our poor, lean, and empty dreams of confidence in something beside God are no farther travelled than up and down the noughty[314] and feckless creatures. God may say of us, as He said, "Ye rejoice in a thing of nought" (Amos vi. 13). Surely we spin our spider's web with pain, and build our rotten and tottering house upon a lie, and falsehood, and vanity.