To Mr. Alexander Henderson — Letter 16

My reverend and dear brother.

I received your letters; they are as apples of gold to me, for which my sweet feasts (and they are above the deserving of such a sinner, high and out of measure) I have sadness to ballast me and weigh me a little. It is but his boundless wisdom, who has taken the tutoring of his witless child, and he knows that to be drunk with comforts is not safest for our stomachs. However it be, the din and noise and frowns of Christ's cross are weightier than it itself. I protest to you (my witness is in heaven) I could wish many pound-weights added to my cross, to know that by sufferings Christ were set forward in his kingly office in this land. Oh what is my skin to his glory, or my losses or my sad heart, to the apple of the eye of our Lord and his beloved spouse, his precious truth, his royal privileges, the glory of manifested justice in giving his foes a defeat, the testimony of his faithful servants who glorify him when he rides upon poor weak worms and triumphs in them! I desire you to pray that I may come out of this furnace with integrity, and that I may leave Christ's truth no worse than I found it, and that this most honorable cause may neither be stained nor weakened. As for your case, my reverend and dearest brother, you are the talk of the north and south, and looked to so, as if you were all crystal glass. Your spots and dust would soon be proclaimed, and trumpets blown at your slips. But I know you have laid help upon one that is mighty. Entrust not your comforts to men's airy and frothy applause, neither lay your discouragements on the tongues of salt mockers and reproachers of godliness. As deceivers and yet true, as unknown and yet well known. God has called you to Christ's side, and the wind is now on Christ's face in this land. And seeing you are with him, you cannot expect the lee-side or the sunny side of the hill. But I know you have resolved to take Christ upon any terms whatever. I hope you do not rue, though your cause be hated and that prejudices are taken up against it. The shields of the world think our master cumbersome wares, and that he makes too great a din, and that his cords and yokes make blisters and deep scores in their neck. Therefore they kick; they say this man shall not reign over us. Let us pray one for another. He who has made you a chosen arrow in his quiver, hide you in the hollow of his hand. I am.

Aberdeen, March 9, 1637. Yours in his sweet Lord Jesus, S. R.