(WRITTEN BY HER OWN HAND.)
(Continued from page 468.)
ABOUT this time, the condition of my father lay very near my heart, and that because I could see nothing like a change on him to the better, but particularly on the 7th of January, 1700, it being Sabbath, I was strangely weighted with it, and was made to plead the out-making of the promise on his account, that he would show wonders to the dead. Having the impression of his death on me (though at that time he was well in health), I often made use of that word in prayer, Psalm cxix., “It is time to work, Lord, it is time for thee to work. He is growing old, and wearing near his grave; O Lord, let free grace be glorified in his salvation, according to thy promises.”
On Thursday next, in a sudden he takes a purging of blood, and in the afternoon he vomited excessively, so that none thought he could put off this night; I knowing nothing of it, for I was not at this time in my father’s house.
On Friday morning, they sent and told me my father was not well. No sooner I heard this, but I concluded it was his death; which immediately put me in a praying posture for him, that now free grace might be exalted in his salvation, according to His promise.
The first sight I saw of him, I told him with tears, that it was death approaching, and besought him to lay it to heart. He made me little or no answer: but grievous were the looks he gave me; which sent me to the throne of grace, inquiring at the Lord, what could be the matter I was sent so many errands for him, both at communions and other solemn occasions, and so loaded with him for ordinary in prayer, where I would have got liberty for him, when I could have sought no other thing, since now they were all like to come to nought, he on a death-bed, and no appearance of a work of grace begun yet. This tossed me up and down in a terrible manner as ever any was. It was not the loss of him, as my parent, that so troubled me; no, no; in this respect, I could have parted with him freely; but the thing that troubled me was, fearing he would be a castaway. The thoughts of this made me utter these words before the Lord in prayer, “O Lord, in the days of Thy flesh, some came to Thee for their servant, some for their son, some for their daughter, some for themselves, and they got all good answers: now, I come for my father; O deny me not for thine own name’s sake. Consider, Lord, that my great enemy, unbelief, is waiting for my halting; and, in appearance, this is the
last request ever I will seek for him.” And many such impertinent expressions I uttered this day; being like one half out of their wits, when I was alone, still seeking a sign out of His own mouth, that might be some ground of hope to me; but I was denied this, and was upbraided for my unbelief, in not believing His naked word of promise.
At afternoon he seemed to be somewhat calm, and every one had hopes of his recovery. But, for my own part, I believed none of their words, and told them they would be disappointed; for it was not only death, but death very near; so I desired them not to be secure. A little after this he again vomited blood so excessively, that we all thought he would never move again.
Now, only the Lord knows what a rack my spirit was on, until the time he recovered his senses. Then I posed him what he thought of himself? All the answer he gave me was, that he was in a most deplorable condition all the time Mr. John Moncrief was praying with him. I cannot but say, there were some words he expressed which yielded no small satisfaction, which were these: “O Lord, Thou dealest variously with the sons of men; some Thou calls in the third hour of young age, some at the sixth hour of riper years, and some Thou reservest to the eleventh hour of old age!” O how seasonable was that word to me, none can conceive!
As the Lord helped me, I tried all sorts of duty wherein I thought he would be found. I joined in prayer with another, and we both got great liberty in pleading for him. On Saturday morning, that word came, “The devil is gone out of thy daughter,” yet still my fears continued. Then that word came, “Ye are complete in him who is the head of all principalities and powers.” O what I saw in that word, “Ye are complete in him!” Yet for all this, my spirit was like to be overwhelmed. There were some of my godly acquaintances that pled at the throne of grace for him, and they brought me all good answers; but this could not quiet me either. Oh the perplexity I was in through this day! I was almost demented.
About nine o’clock he grew very weak, and his speech failed him; then I cried to the Lord to hear my last request for him. I continued pleading with a troubled and vexed spirit, until it pleased the Lord in His great condescendency to bear in that word in my mind (Mal. iii. 17), “He shall be mine, in that day that I make up my jewels; and I will spare him, as a man doth his son that serveth him.” This brought with it a sweet calm and composure of spirit to me; so that I came patiently, and saw him depart this life, about eleven of the clock at night, being the 13th day of January, 1700.
On the morning, being Sabbath, I was strongly assaulted to misbelieve that he was well; but I laboured to resist it as much as possible, knowing this was a secret I was not to dive into, since now the sentence was past. O how much of God’s love and power did I see in the dispensation of providence! With the Psalmist I
may sing of mercy and judgment; though the cup was bitter, yet it was sweetened with mercy. It was very bitter to us that he was so suddenly pulled away; but it was a mercy that there was one hour lengthened out to him, and that he fell not down dead on the street; for he was not half-an-hour come home when he fell in such a dead fit, that none thought ever he would come again. Now, if this had been on the street, he would both have been a spectacle of wonder to those that passed by, and it would have been a wonder if ever he had recovered it, it being in the cold of the year. Now is His word made good, that He doth all things well. There is none living in the world that hath more reason to record the loving kindness of the Lord than I have, though, alas, none walks more unanswerably to the mercy received, every manner of way: to my shame I may speak it. After all this, that word continued with me, “Despise not the chastening of the Lord, neither be ye weary of his correction.” By this I knew that there was some other trial I was to meet with, yet had not the least supposition what it might be.
Yet, fearing that my mother (by reason of her grief she was under) should be taken away, I thought, maybe that would be it. O but I found a great unwillingness in my heart to part with her! but it pleased the Lord, that was not my trial, which made all other things the easier borne with by me.
A little after this I sustained a considerable loss, as to the world’s part of it, and that by a near and dear relation of my own, which was another piece of my trial. On Saturday night as I was coming from our society, where we met for prayer, one comes and tells me how all my affairs were going; but they told me it in a very unchristian-like and imprudent manner, which a little surprised me; but immediately that word came, “Thou art my sure portion, O Lord.” This brought me more solid comfort and joy, than if they had told me that I was made an heir to a monarch; and, notwithstanding my loss, I cannot say it was an hour’s trouble to me. In the meantime, I got many sweet meditations on the vanity and uncertainty of all things in time, and how great fools they are that set their heart on anything hereaway.
About this time, there happened a very lamentable providence in the city. The 3rd day of February, about ten at night, a fire broke out in the Meal-market, the like of which, I believe, was not seen in many generations. It burnt so vehemently, that it was thought the most part of the city would have been consumed. The flames were so terrible, that none durst come near to quench it; it was also a very great wind, which blew to such a degree, that with the sparks which came from the fire, there was nothing to be seen through the whole city, but as it had been showers of fire like showers of snow, they were so thick. It was to me as an emblem of hell, and oftentimes Sodom came in my mind that night. O but it was a sad and lamentable sight to look upon, to see the most populous place in the city (the Parliament close) in a red flame, the flames
flying in the elements, and no hands endeavouring to put them out; I cannot but remark, that this night these words were fulfilled, which I heard pronounced against the city, by Mr. John Moncrief, in the College-kirk, the Sabbath after the fire in the Canongate-head; the words were these, Micah vi. 9, “God’s voice crieth to the city, and the men of wisdom shall see thy name; hear ye the rod, and who it is that appointed it.” There was much of God to be seen in this fire, for He gave warning of it before it came. Sabbath before this there was such a smell of burning, that those in the Meal-market, the Kirk-heugh, and Parliament close, went from house to house, to see if there was anything like fire among them, but none could be found; and this broke out the Saturday following. And, for my own part, a considerable time before this, I had such impressions of fire on my spirit, that sleeping and waking it was with me; and that word accompanied my fears, “The sun rose fair to Sodom that day it was destroyed.” But passing this, there were some things very remarkable in this fire; 1st. It began in his land who gave the covenant to the hangman out of his own hand to be burnt, being the youngest bailie in that time; and it was very observable, he had never the use of his hand as formerly after that time; and now God in His providence had sent a burning among his lands so that that which was eleven years of building, was not six hours of burning; notwithstanding this, he was a good man, and lamented to his death the burning of the covenant. He was also very helpful to the Lord’s prisoners, during the late persecution; yet it was well observed by one, as burning was the sin so burning was the punishment. 2nd. It was observed, that as it began in his land, who burnt the covenant, so it never rested till it came to the place where it was burnt, and there it stayed without any cause whatsoever; but it had its commission from the Lord, “Hitherto shall ye go and no further.” This opened the mouth of both good and bad, to express, “O the burnt covenant! O the burnt covenant! This is come upon us for burning of the covenant.” 3rd. It is very observable, that this fire did resemble the fire of the late persecution, kindled by a prelatic party against the Presbyterians, in these four respects:—1. It was not in the power of any to stay this fire, till the Lord in a wonderful way did it; so neither was it in the power of any to stay these tyrants in their rage and fury against the Lord’s people, till by a wonderful providence, wherein the Lord’s hand was eminently seen, a way that could never have been conceived by any, He brought about their delivery. 2. This fire in a very short time laid many families desolate, and so did the malignant party in a short time lay many families desolate—they bereaved women of their husbands, and children of their parents; some they forfeited, others they banished; so that great was the desolation they made through the whole kingdom. 3. This fire had no regard to one by another, neither the rich for their honour and dignity, nor the poor for their poverty: so it was with the episcopal party, they had regard to none. The nobles and
gentles of the kingdom, they suffered at scaffolds and gibbets; no respect was put on them, the flame was so violent. As to the meaner sort, there was no pity to be shown to them either, but all must go one gate. 4. It is very observable, that the most part of them that suffered at this fire were rich people, and anything they lost was but their household furniture, and their outward accommodations for a while; but few or none of them lost their stock there; it was somewhere else, so that the fire could not reach it; so we may apply this to these that suffered under the fore-named party; they were, for the most part, rich in God’s account, and anything they lost was but their outward accommodations for awhile, and some of them were even restored a hundredfold in this life. But it lay not in their power to take their stock of grace from them, that was in a surer hand, they could neither head nor hang that, it was better laid up, nor to come among their hands; and though for awhile they suffered here, yet one moment in heaven would make it all up to them; for their light affliction which was here but for a moment, wrought for them a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory. I cannot tell what effect this present dispensation had on my spirit, I thought it dang me stupid and senseless in the time of it, so that I could not do so much as pour out a prayer for the quenching of it; only this, it confirmed me of the vanity of all earthly enjoyments whatsoever, and how great fools they are who spend too much time in laying up treasures on earth, seeing that, even that, which takes both time and pains of gathering, a few moments will undo and waste to nothing; then, where is their labour? I think a man or woman, in their gathering the world, is like a spider working its web; O what pains doth it take in spinning it out: and when it is spun, it sits down in the midst of it to take its rest; but when the maid comes to sweep the room, one touch of the besom sweeps it clean away, as if it had not been.
O but the world be a foolish thing to trust to! and they are the greatest of fools that trust to it; they are fools in these three respects. 1st, It is known to the world that the world is a very uncertain friend to lippen to; for though it be a fair promiser, yet it is an ill performer, it is both a cheat and a liar. What though it promise pleasure and satisfaction to the owners thereof! It is but a mere cheat, for we see that none have more sorrow, than those who have it? What trouble and vexation have they in gathering of it? What weary care and anxiety in keeping of it? Though sometimes, let them keep all their hands about it, yet it will away. Riches take unto themselves wings, and oftentimes take the flight when there is most need of them, and that is when old age and sickness come on. That motto cannot be written upon the world, “A friend in time of need.” I remember a very good observation one hath on the world; speaking to those that made a god of it, he said, it was a token of great wisdom to keep the god they choosed; but it is a sign of the greatest folly, to choose a god they cannot keep. 2nd, They are fools in this respect—Shall all the pains they are at in working and hoarding up the
world gain them anything? It is but for the shortest time; none of it will pass current in another world, where we are to be through all eternity. It is said of the godly, that “their works shall follow them” to another world; but the worldly man leaves all his work behind him. Are they not great fools that spend so great time to so little purpose? Psalm xlix. is a clear proof of this. The rich fool in the gospel, and the rich glutton, should be as beacons and warnings to all. I remember a note of a sermon I heard by that servant of Christ, Mr. John Blair, and though I was but young when I heard it, yet I cannot but say it had some effect upon me, which made me remember it better than I have done other things of as great moment: as far as I can call to mind, this was the first public preaching that durst be avowed by the Presbyterian ministers. In this sermon he was showing what a foolish and vain thing it was to be seeking the world, and forgetting to make ready for eternity; where he told us a story of a nobleman, who had a fool for his divertissement, and being so well pleased with him (being one of the greatest fools in the country) he gave him a staff, and desired him to keep it till he found a fool greater than himself, and give it to him. Some time after this the nobleman fell sick, so he sent for his fool, to divert him with some of his fool sports; when the fool came to his master, he asked him what ailed him? “O,” says he, “I am going to another world.” Then, said the fool, “How long will you stay? a month, or the like?” “No,” says the nobleman, “I will stay many months.” “How many months will you stay? will it be a year?” “O,” says he, “it will be many years.” “How many years will it be?” says the fool. “It will be to all eternity,” says the nobleman. “O then,” said the fool, “master, that is a long journey to eternity; what have you provided for this long journey?” “Nothing at all,” said the nobleman. “Then, master, take your staff again; for you are a greater fool than I am yet.” Assuredly, any may think this was a wise man’s answer to a fool, rather than a fool’s to a wise man. This story was told to show what folly it was to provide for the vain world, and neglect to make ready for eternity. 3rd, The world-gatherer is a fool in this respect; for he gets neither thanks nor good deeds for all the labour he has been at, from them that possess it after him. How justly may they be compared to a bee, who is at great pains to work a curious piece of work to lay up its winter provision therein, whereas this industry of theirs is the only means of their overthrow! Is it not so with those who are at great pains to lay up sums of money for others, and neglect the one thing needful? It will prove their ruin at the great day, and those that possess it will think no more of them than they that did at the honey of the dead bees. O how happy are they that, in using the world, learn not to abuse it! not running on extremes, either as to the gathering of it, or to the spending of it.
At this time the Lord was at great pains to instruct me of the vanity of time’s enjoyments, not only from other folks’ experience,
but even by experience of my own, which He was pleased to lengthen out to me, one after another as He saw good for me. I may say, in some respects, my trials were like those of Job; they came all one after another; the hindermost seemed to be the sorest and sharpest; but, by the by, I must say, it hath been good for me that I was afflicted, even with respect to the things of the world.
(To be Continued.)