Vol 16 - TO THE VISCOUNTESS OF KENMURE.

TO THE VISCOUNTESS OF KENMURE.
MADAM,
GRACE, mercy, and peace, be to your Ladyship! I long to hear from you, and that dear' child; and, for that cause I trouble you with letters. I think the sparrows and the swallows, that build their nests in Anwoth, blessed birds. The LORD has made all my congregation desolate. Alas, I am oft at this, u Show me wherefore you contendest with me." O earth, earth, cover not the violence done to me! I know it is my faithless jealousy, in this' my dark night, to take a friend for a foe. I chide with him, but he giveth me fair words. Seeing that my sins, and especially the sins of my youth, deserved strokes, how I am obliged to my Lord, who/ amongst many crosses, has given me a chosen cross; to suffer for the name of my Lou]) JESUS! Since I must have chains, he would put golden chains on me, watered with many consolations. My crosses come, through the fingers of mercy and love, from the kind heart of a brother, CHRIST My LORD; and therefore they must be sweet. O what am I, such a lump, such a rotten mass of sin, to be counted worthy to be stricken with the best and most honorable rod in my Father's house,—the golden rod, wherewith my eldest Brother, the LORD, heir of the inheritance, and his faithful witnesses, were stricken! I should be thankful and rejoice; but my beholders and lovers, in CHRIST have eyes of flesh, and have made my one to be ten; and I am, somebody in their books: there are armies of thoughts within me, saying the contrary, and laughing at their wide mistake. If my inner side were seen, I should lose and forfeit love and respect; and pity would come in the place of these. O that they would yet set me lower, and my Well beloved, CHRIST, higher! I would have had grace to be glad and cheerful, that GOD's glory might ride and openly triumph, before the view of men, angels, devils, earth, heaven, hell, sun, moon, and all Gob's creatures, upon my pain and sufferings; providing always I felt not the LORD's displeasure. But I fear lest his fair glory should be soiled in coming through such a foul creature as I am., If I could be the sinless matter of glorifying CHRIST, although to my loss, pain, sufferings, and extremity of wretchedness, how would my soul rejoice! But I am far, far from this. He knows, his love has made me a prisoner, and bound me hand and foot; but it is my pain that I cannot get loose hands, and a loosed heart, to do service to my LORD) JESUS, and to speak his love. I confess, I have neither tongue nor pen to do it. CHRIST'S love is more than my praises, and above the thoughts of the angel GABRIEL, and all the mighty hosts that stand before the throne of Got. I think shame, that my foul tongue, and polluted heart, should come in to help others to sing the praises of CHRIST: all I now do, is to wish the choir to become crowded, and to grow in the extolling of CHRIST. Woe, woe is me, for my guiltiness, seen to few; my hidden wounds, still bleeding within me, are before the eyes of no man; but if my LORD JESUS were not still hasing, washing, balming, healing, and binding them up, they would break out to my shame. I know not what will be the end of my suffering; I have but seen the one side of my cross; what will be the other side, He knows, who has his fire in Zion. Let Him lead me, if it were through hell. I thank my Lon)), my waiting to see what more CHRIST will do to me, is my joy. O that my ease, joy, and pleasure for evermore, were laid in pledge to buy praises to CHRIST! But I am far from this. It is easy for a poor soul, in the deep debt of CHRIST'S love, to feed upon broad wishes that CHRIST may be honored; but in performance I am stark nought. I have nothing, nothing, to give to CHRIST, but poverty. I would be glad to hear that CHRIST'S claim to you were still the more, and that you were still going forward, and that you were nearer to Him. I do not honor CHRIST myself, but I wish all others did. I am somewhat encouraged that your Ladyship is not dry and cold to CHRIST'S prisoner, as some are: I hope it is put up in my Master's accountbook. I am not much grieved, that my jealous husband should break in pieces my idols, so that either they dare not, or will not, do for me. My Master needeth not their help, but they need to help him. Thus, recommending you to God's dearest mercy, I rest,
Aberdeen,
Your own, in JESUS, at all obedience,
July 17, 1637.
S. R.