But now you labour under affliction for the death and loss of your only son, and all of you of your dearest earthly friend. Consider then that, if you be good Christians, God who is your best friend, who is immortal and cannot die, will never leave you nor forsake you, but will provide both for your temporal and spiritual concerns beyond what you can either ask or think. But nature, you say, is fond of life. I acknowledge it. But then consider, to what purpose should we desire a long life? since with the usual burdens and infirmities and misfortunes that attend it, it is but the same thing over again or worse, so many more nights and days, summers and winters, with less pleasure and relish, every day a return of the same and greater pains and troubles, but perhaps with less strength and patience to bear them.
These, and the like considerations, have under my present calamities entertain'd me not only with contentment but comfort, tho' with great inequality of temper at several times, and with much mixture of human frailty, which will in some degree stick to us while we are in this world. However by this kind of thoughts afflictions and death itself will become more familiar to us, and keep us from starting at the one or repining [fol. 6.] at the other.
I acknowledge I find in myself a great tenderness in parting with you, my dearest relations, which I must confess doth very sensibly touch me. But then I consider, and so, I hope, with all of you, that this separation will be but a very little while, and that tho' I shall leave you in a very wicked world, yet you are all under the care of a good God who can be more and better to you than I and all other relations whatever, and will certainly be so to all those that love Him and hope in His mercy.
It likewise gives me no small uneasiness that I should leave you in a worse way as to your worldly circumstances than I could have wished or once expected, having spent my own and made some encroachments upon poor Cicie's14 stock. But then I must say in my own vindication, this was not by any luxury or riot, as you can bear me witness, but rather owing to a small yearly income, an expensive place for living, and being too liberally disposed upon certain occasions; but, above all, by my being engag'd in the late glorious cause of serving my King and country. You'll easily see it was no mercenary view, but purely obedience to conscience and duty that made me take [fol. 7.] part in the fate of my royal prince and country when I tell you that I never received a farthing of his Royal Highness's money, nor was assisted in the least penny by any engaged in his service. So that this undertaking consum'd no small part of my private stock; and I hope you'll readily grant it could not have been better bestow'd, altho' all of you must feel the want of it. But God who has formerly done wonderful things for us all will, I trust, provide for you the necessaries of life.
And even poverty rightly weigh'd is not so very sad a condition. For what is it but the absence of a very few superfluous things which please wanton fancy rather than answer need, without which nature is easily satisfied, and which, if we do not affect, we cannot want? What is it but to wear coarse cloaths, to feed on plain and simple fare, to work and take some pains, to sit or goe in a lower place, to have few friends and not one flatterer? And what great harm in this? If I had time to compare it with the many dangers and temptations to which wealth is expos'd, – pray consider that poverty is a state which many have born with great chearfulness. Many wise men have voluntarily embrac'd it. It is allotted by Divine wisdom to most men, and the very best of men do often [fol. 8.] endure it. God has declared an especial regard to that state of life. The mouth of truth hath proclaimed it happy. The Son of God dignified it by His own choice, and sanctified it by His partaking deeply thereof. And can such a condition be very disagreeable to any of you (who were never over-prosperous in the world)? Or can it reasonably displease you?
My dear mother and sisters, these considerations, I hope, thro' the Divine assistance, will be a mean to support you under your present and future afflictions, and preserve you from repining at my fate and your own loss.15
[Before I end this letter I must take this opportunity to acquaint you of one thing that none on earth knows but the person immediately concern'd. The matter is this. Had it pleased God that I should have surviv'd my dear mother, and been provided of any tolerable subsistence in this world, I design'd and propos'd to make Stewart Rose (whom I know to be a virtuous, wise, good, and religious young woman), partner of my life and fortune. I am too sensible of what she suffers on my account, and which would make her affliction sit the harder upon her, the natural modesty she is mistress of, would never allow'd her to give vent to her grief, had not I mention'd it to you. I therefore recommend her to you, my dear mother, always to look upon her as your daughter, and to you, my dear sisters, to treat her always as your own sister, she being really so in my most serious intention and fix'd resolution. And I am persuaded there are none of you but will bear so far a regard to my memory as to value, esteem, and, as far as in your power, cherish and comfort the person on whom I had so deservedly settled my love and affection. I am sensible that all of you esteem'd her before on your acquaintance with her and her own proper merit, and am convinc'd that my discovering my mind thus far will more and more increase and not lessen your love and regard to her. May Almighty God support and comfort her and you all, and make you with humble submission resign'd to the Divine will.]
I must next acknowledge with all the tender-heartedness of a brother, the grievous troubles and afflictions both of body and mind my dear sister, Cicie, hath undergone, in order to be of use and comfort to me under my severe trials. Her firm love to me has made her follow my fate too far, and be a witness of more of my troubles than I could have wish'd. But whatever she has suffer'd on my account, which indeed cannot be express'd, she has been of unspeakable service to me. May Almighty God reward her, and whatever love all of you bore to her formerly I hope it will be enlarged to her on this very account.
[fol. 9.] I cannot conclude without offering my best wishes (as they have always had my prayers) to Mr. Drummond, my colleague, and every individual person a member of our congregation. May Almighty God bless all of them both in their temporal and spiritual concerns, and of His infinite goodness reward them for their love and kindness, their attachment and concern for me in the several difficulties I have undergone! May the same God in His due time afford them authoriz'd guides to perform Divine offices amongst them, to administer to them the means of grace and bread of life, that they may be no longer as sheep without a shepherd. Till which time may the Holy Spirit direct every one of them into the way of truth, and assist them earnestly to contend for the faith once delivered to the saints, in unity of spirit, in the bond of peace, and in righteousness of life. And finally, may the same merciful Lord save them and bless them, make them to the end of their lives stedfast in the faith, unblameable in holiness and zealous of good works.
You'll be pleased to offer my hearty and sincere good wishes to Balgowan16 and all that worthy family. I gratefully acknowledge their remarkable and undeserved favours. May Almighty God return them sevenfold into their bosom!
[fol. 10.] I sincerely pray that Almighty God may reward the family of Moncrief, Mr. Smyth's, Mr. Stirling's, Dr. Carmichael's, Mr. Graeme's, ladies of Stormont, Lady Findal's, and all other my kind benefactors and well-wishers with you (who have so bountifully ministred to my necessities) with His eternal and everlasting good things.
As I expect and earnestly desire forgiveness from God of all my sins and transgressions, thro' the merits and mediation of my only Saviour and Redeemer Jesus Christ, so from the very bottom of my heart I forgive all my enemies, persecutors, and slanderers, and particularly Clerk Millar,17 who, I have reason to believe, has prosecute me to death, and whom, to my knowledge, I never injured in thought, word, or deed. May God grant him repentance that he may obtain forgiveness at the hands of our heavenly Father. And with the same earnestness I desire all of you to forgive him, and tho' it should be in your power, never