DAVIOT FREE MANSE, 2nd September, 1851.
MY DEAR FRIEND,—I received your agreeable letter some time ago. I fear you will consider my silence an evidence of coldness or disregard. I assure you it arose not from either, but somehow the time passed. I think, however, I was often with you in my thoughts.
Since receiving your kind letter, I see that you have had a bitter cup put into your hand like many others. Sin has exposed us to any misery in this world and in eternity; but those who through grace have closed with the offers of the gospel will one day be freed from sin; their deliverance from all misery will follow, as it is said, “God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.” You and I have had a bitter cup put into our hands. We, however, must confess that it was not sent as our iniquity deserved, that it was mixed with mercy and loving kindness. I see dear Mrs. Ross was a great sufferer in body and mind, but I hope she is with the Lord. She was a dear person, a lover of the people of God, kept under the rod for many years.
Salvation depends not on assurance, but on the nature of faith. Though this faith was no greater than the first movement of a child in its mother’s womb, if it be the creation of the Spirit of grace it will land the creature in endless glory. It is not a little, however, that raises one on the brink of eternity from the fears of death. It is not every one of the dear people of God who is favoured with assurance. To enjoy it is sweet, and those who enjoy it have great cause of thankfulness, it being the fruit of infinite free and sovereign grace. Yet the salvation of the elect depends not on it, though it should be earnestly sought after by all who are in the least concerned about their eternal state. It also is promised in Scripture, and was and is enjoyed by some of the true people of God, being a part of that “sweet tree” put in the bitter waters. If at any time they get something which gives them hope that He will not cast them off, they cannot keep it always; or if it continues, something else will be given them so that they will need it; they must eat the Lamb with some bitter herbs. Yet glimpses of eternal blessedness, in which all these troubles will be ended, must be sweet and strengthening to a broken soul. And I doubt not but you will see your dear companion yet shining as the brightness of the firmament.
I also have had a bitter cup. I think I would not take the whole world to go through the like of it again. My dear wife suffered a good deal, but not so much as Mrs. Ross. Since the time we had the Sacrament in summer last year, it might be easily seen she was not to be long. At that time she was very broken and melted. Since then she appeared to be weaned from the world; hardly looked after anything; it was M— that took care of things in the house. In her last sickness we never thought it was death. She was half an hour in eternity before we could believe that she was dead. . . . I never saw one who had not made a great public profession that the people of God had so little doubt about as to her eternal blessedness. I now fear that I will be out, after all my noise in public, and she in. I feel often very lonely in private and public duties, at the table, in church, and wherever I go. I feel a blank that cannot be made up this side of time. My children at present are all with me, and are as kind and obedient as it is possible for them to be. . . . I always comforted myself with the thought that their mother was to be with them after me to take care of them, but the Lord saw it meet it should be otherwise.
Remember me kindly to all my dear friends in Wick. I cannot name them all.—Yours sincerely, A. Cook.