[CCLXXIX.—For Marion M'Naught.]
(A SPRING-TIDE OF CHRIST'S LOVE.)
M Y DEAR AND WELL-BELOVED SISTER,—Grace, mercy, and peace be to you.—I am well; honour to God. I have been before a court set up within me of terrors and challenges; but my sweet Lord Jesus hath taken the mask off His face, and said, "Kiss thy fill!" and I will not smother nor conceal the kindness of my King Jesus. He hath broken in upon the poor prisoner's soul, like the swelling of Jordan. I am bank and brim full; a great, high spring-tide of the consolations of Christ have overflowed me. I would not give my weeping for the fourteen prelates' laughter. They have sent me here to feast with my King. His spikenard casteth a sweet smell. The Bridegroom's love hath run away with my heart. O love, love, love! Oh, sweet are my royal King's chains! I care not for fire nor torture. How sweet were it to me to swim the salt sea for my new Lover, my second Husband, my first Lord! I charge you in the name of God, not to fear the wild beasts that entered into the vineyard of the Lord of Hosts. The false prophet is the tail. God shall cut the tail from Scotland. Take your comfort and droop not, despond not.
Pray for my poor flock: I would take a penance on my soul for their salvation. I fear that the entering of a hireling upon my labours there will cut off my life with sorrow. There I wrestled with the Angel and prevailed. Wood,[388] trees, meadows, and hills are my witnesses, that I drew on a fair meeting betwixt Christ and Anwoth.
My love to your husband, to dear Carleton, to my beloved brother Knockbrex.[389] Forget not Christ's prisoner. I long for a letter under your own hand.
Your friend and Christ's prisoner,
S. R.
Aberdeen, Nov. 22, 1637.