I wish all professors to fall in love with grace. All our songs should be of His free grace. We are but too lazy and careless in seeking of it; it is all our riches we have here, and glory in the bud. I wish that I could set out free grace. I was the law's man, and under the law, and under a curse; but grace brought me from under that hard lord, and I rejoice that I am grace's freeholder. I pay tribute to none for heaven, seeing my land and heritage holdeth of Christ, my new King. Infinite wisdom hath devised this excellent way of free-holding for sinners. It is a better way to heaven than the old way that was in Adam's days. It hath this fair advantage, that no man's emptiness and want layeth an inhibition upon Christ, or hindereth His salvation; and that is far best for me. But our new Landlord putteth the names of dyvours, and Adam's forlorn heirs, and beggars, and the crooked and blind, in the free charters. Heaven and angels may wonder that we have got such a gate of sin and hell. Such a back-entry out of hell as Christ made, and brought out the captives by, is more than my poor shallow thoughts can comprehend. I would think sufferings glory (and I am sometimes not far from it), if my Lord would give me a new alms of free grace.
I hear that the prelates are intending banishment for me; but, for more grace, and no other hire, I would make it welcome. The bits of this clay house, the earth, and the other side of the sea, are my Father's. If my sweet Lord Jesus would bud my sufferings with a new measure of grace, I were a rich man. But I have not now, of a long time, found such high spring-tides as formerly. The sea is out, the wind of His Spirit calm; and I cannot buy a wind, or, by requesting the sea, cause it to flow again; only I wait on upon the banks and shore-side, till the Lord send a full sea, that with upsails I may lift up Christ. Yet sorrow for His absence is sweet; and sighs, with "Saw ye Him whom my soul loveth?" have their own delights. Oh that I may gather hunger against His long-looked-for return! Well were my soul, if Christ were the element (mine own element), and that I loved and breathed in Him, and if I could not live without Him. I allow not laughter upon myself when He is away; yet He never leaveth the house, but He leaveth drink-money behind Him, and a pawn that He will return. Wo, wo to me, if He should go away and take all His flitting with Him! Even to dream of Him is sweet. To build a house of pining wishes for His return, to spin out a web of sorrow, and care, and languishing, and sighs, either dry or wet, as they may be (because He hath no leisure, if I may speak so, to make a visit, or to see a poor friend), sweeteneth and refresheth the thoughts of the heart. A misty dew will stand for rain, and do some good, and keep some greenness in the herbs, till our Lord's clouds rue upon the earth, and send down a watering of rain. Truly I think Christ's misty dew a welcome message from heaven till my Lord's rain fall.
Wo, wo is me for the Lord's vineyard in Scotland! Howbeit the Father of the house embrace a child, and feed him, and kiss him; yet it is sorrow and sadness to the children that our poor mother hath gotten her leave, and that our Father hath given up house. It is an unheartsome thing to see our Father and mother agree so ill; yet the bastards, if they be fed, care not, O Lord, cast not water on Scotland's smoking coal. It is a strange gate the saints go to heaven. Our enemies often eat and drink us, and we go to heaven through their bellies and stomachs, and they vomit the church of God undigested among their hands. And even while we are shut up in prisons by them, we advance in our journey.
Remember my service to my lord your son, who was kind to me in my bonds, and was not ashamed to own me. I would be glad that Christ got the morning service of his life, now in his young years. It would suit him well to give Christ his young and green love. Christ's stamp and seal would go far down in a young soul, if he would receive the thrust of Christ's stamp. I would desire him to make search for Christ; for nobles are now but dry friends to Christ.
The grace of God our Father, and the good-will of Him who dwelt in the bush, be with your Ladyship.
Yours, in his sweet Lord Jesus,
S. R.
Aberdeen, 1637.