211. CCXII.—To WILLIAM GLENDINNING [Letter CXXXVII.]

CCXII.—To WILLIAM GLENDINNING [Letter CXXXVII.] (SEARCH INTO CHRISTS LOVELINESS—WHAT HE WOULD SUFFER TO SEE IT—CHRIST’S COMING TO DELIVER.)

DEAR BROTHER,—Ye are heartily welcome to that honour that Christ hath made common to us both, which is to suffer for His name. Verily I think it my garland and crown; and if the Lord should ask of me my blood and life for this cause, I would gladly, in His strength, pay due debt to Christ’s honour and glory, in that kind. Acquaint yourself with Christ’s love, and ye shall not miss to find new golden mines and treasures in Christ. Nay, truly, we but stand beside Christ, we go not in to Him to take our fill of Him. But if He would do two things,—(1) Draw the curtains, and make bare His holy face; and then (2) Clear our dim and bleared eyes, to see His beauty and glory. He should find many lovers. I would seek no more happiness than a sight of Him so near-hand, as to see, hear, smell, and touch, and embrace Him. But oh, closed doors, and vails, and curtains, and thick clouds hold me in pain, while I find the sweet burning of His love, that many waters cannot quench! Oh, what sad hours have I, when I think that the love of Christ scaureth at me, and bloweth by me! If my Lord Jesus would come to bargaining for His love, I think He might make the price Himself. I should not refuse ten thousand years in hell, to have a wide soul enlarged and made wider, that I might be exceedingly, even to the running-over, filled with His love. Oh, what am I, to love such a One, or to be loved by that high and lofty One! I think the angels may blush to look upon Him; and what am I, to fyle such infinite brightness with my sinful eyes! Oh that Christ would come near, and stand still, and give me leave to look upon Him! for to look seemeth the poor man’s privilege, since he may, for nothing and without hire, behold the sun. I should have a king’s life, if I had no other thing to do, than for evermore to behold and eye my fair Lord Jesus: nay, suppose I were holden out at heaven’s fair entry, I should be happy for evermore, to look through a hole in the door, and see my dearest and fairest Lord’s face. O great King, why standest Thou aloof? Why remainest Thou beyond the mountains? O Well-beloved, why dost Thou pain a poor soul with delays? A long time out of Thy glorious presence is two deaths and two hells to me. We must meet, I must see Him, I dow not want Him. Hunger and longing for Christ hath brought on such a necessity of enjoying Christ, that, cost me what it will, I cannot but assure Christ that I will not, I dow not want Him; for I cannot master nor command Christ’s love. Nay, hell (as I now think), and all the pains in it, laid on me alone, would not put me from loving. Yea, suppose that my Lord Jesus would not love me, it is above my strength or power to keep back or imprison the weak love which I have, but it must be out to Christ. I would set heaven’s joy aside, and live upon Christ’s love its lone. Let me have no joy but the warmness and fire of Christ’s love; I seek no other, God knoweth. If this love be taken from me, the bottom is fallen out of all my happiness and joy; and, therefore, I believe that Christ will never do me that much harm, as to bereave a poor prisoner of His love. It were cruelty to take it from me; and He, who is kindness itself, cannot be cruel.

Dear brother, weary not of my sweet Master’s chains; we are so much the sibber to Christ that we suffer. Lodge not a hard thought of my royal King. Rejoice in His cross. Your deliverance sleepeth not. He that will come is not slack of His promise. Wait on for God’s timeous salvation; ask not when, or how long? I hope He shall lose nothing of you in the furnace, but dross. Commit your cause in meekness (forgiving your oppressors) to God, and your sentence shall come back from Him laughing. Our Bridegroom’s day is posting fast on; and this world, that seemeth to go with a long and a short foot, shall be put into two ranks. Wait till your ten days (Revelation 2:10) be ended, and hope for the crown. Christ will not give you a blind in the end.

Commend me to your wife and father, and to Bailie M. A.; and send this letter to him. The prayers of Christ’s prisoner be upon you, and the Lord’s presence accompany you.

Yours, in his sweet Lord Jesus,

S. R.

ABERDEEN, July 6, 1637.