TO ALEXANDER SINCLAIR, MERCHANT, THURSO.
(III.)
BADBEA, 25th January, 1842.
MY DEAR FRIEND,—I am longing much to hear from you. I have no particular news to communicate to you, but that He is lengthening my day in the wilderness to see the commencement of another year, after so many provocations and refusals of the Father’s Beloved Son. What a wonder that sinful worms ever got an offer of such a pearl! The angels wonder at such an offer. Notwithstanding, I have the heart that I had formerly, denying Him and too ready to foster my indwelling sin. Oh for true hatred to sin and to the old heart that relishes Satan’s drudgery and slavery.
O what a grief that Satan would get any as his prey! Surely they that are brought nigh by the blood of the Cross, if they could, would not give the dog to the enemy; but alas, how full is the broad road of immortal beings, when so few are brought to the strait gate. Those that are brought to the strait gate are those that are mourning and going Zionward, though often in their experience going contrary. The true mourners are few; He is calling them home fast; many of them were called to their rest since this year commenced. O what you and I have seen of them who shall not be seen here any more! and the few that they left behind are not bearing their stamp in every respect. But oh, myself, myself, the miserable wretch!
The Lord has been pleased to visit me with another rod this winter. My niece that is staying with me was brought very low with the typhus fever; we despaired of her being recovered. She is poorly yet and lingering. My sister that is residing in Sutherland is very low just now with the same trouble. But glory to His name, I was wonderfully supported under the rod. My friends ought to praise Him for His forbearance towards me who am but a useless branch in His vineyard.
I want to know how is our mutual friend, John Mackintosh. I have heard that he is getting better. Dear Isabel Polson has been poorly, but is a little better.
Hardly are there any persons coming this way. They were few before, but since the trouble came they took a scare. I am taking much long. Please give my kind respects to Mrs. Mackay. Remember me kindly to Lexy. I will be daily looking for a line from your hand as an alm to a poor man who is dark in mind and suffering in body and circumstance as an exile here.
With our kind respects to you and to Mrs. Sinclair and the children.—I am, your attached friend, JOHN SUTHERLAND.
(IV.)
BADBEA, 17th May, 1844.
MY DEAR FRIEND,—I received your kind and long looked for favour. The Most High has been pleased to be speaking to you and to impenitent me in various ways. “What could have been done more to my vineyard that I have not done?” It is good to be getting our idols spoiled. If He would allure us and bring us to the wilderness, to the wilderness of His own Israel! But what am I after all the rods and chastisements, and the depriving me of every delight; calling home from me the members of His mystical body, to whom I was deceiving myself that I was attached? But I have had some glimpses that they were the excellent ones of the earth, the lights of the world and the salt of the earth, and have felt the means of grace dark and obscure wanting them.
Notwithstanding all this, I feel my corrupted and evil heart abhorring and despising Christ’s invitations and sweet offers in the blessed Word. O the cursed enmity of the heart! This heart will not make any use of Christ’s offers. There is no offer to Satan, Satan in the heart. “A new heart will I give,” saith the Lord. Christ is in His own as the hope of glory; He is the hope of Israel; He came to consume the works of the devil. But alas, alas, I am carnal and sold under sin. I fear I have no mark that He began the good work in me; His kingdom is within; I have had a world of iniquity within. O that I would be pitied, and that He would effectually call me from death to life.
I am persuaded that death did not come on your brother as a thief in the night, or on that young plant his daughter. They are to be envied that die in the Lord, and that are called out of the world from the evils that are fast approaching.
O may the Lord be with our Assembly to direct and support them. Haman and his friends are consulting Mordecai’s ruin, but let Esther and her maidens fast and weep, and let them be petitioning the King, and who knows but their requests and petitions will be granted? It would be good if self and vain-glory were subdued and put under, so that our Assembly would give Christ the lead that He might be the head, and we, the tail.
Please write me soon. With best wishes to you and to Mrs. Mackay.—I remain, your attached friend,
JOHN SUTHERLAND.
P.S.—I was a while conversing yesterday with Mr. Macdonald, Helmsdale. He gave me some of Strathy and Farr news. My sister is suffering. Pray that I may get more patience and resignation to His holy will. J. S.
(V.)
BADBEA, 18th September, 1846.
MY DEAR FRIEND,—I acknowledge that I should have written you long ago, but my writings are like myself, useless. But the Lord is bearing with me, whatever He is to do with me at the latter end; all is well that ends well. Really I am getting more doubtful of myself daily, and no wonder by examining myself. I am far, far behind any of His jewels. O the danger I am in of deceiving myself and others. It is written; “Be ye not deceived, God is not mocked.” I find not the mark of the contrite and broken in spirit, as they have of whom it is said, “he shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.” But I am getting daily more hardened, and am in danger that I am to be left as I am for I am an old professor; and I am often at the point of despair that there is no effectual change to be seen or felt on me. I was thinking once that He began the good work and that He would carry it on; I was then feeling as if I had a different mind; my affections were warm; I had great delight in the closet, and the promises were sweet to my taste; I was feeling my soul’s faculties attached to Himself and His cause and glory, and attached to the excellent ones of the earth; but I feel my faculties now so blunt and with so little aptitude for private or public exercises. I am not receiving the benefit of my own performances or of the speakers of this day, as I felt once, but I have myself to blame and not them. I did not hear any minister since you saw me, but an Indian Missionary.
I will be glad to hear from you as soon as possible with all the news you can collect. Let me know is Mr. Archibald Cook come to Reay.
The Lord is speaking loudly to poor me in divers respects. My eldest sister was called to eternity Friday last, and was interred Monday last at Berricdale Churchyard. She was a widow since six years. I feel myself more lonely after her. I envied her more than the loudest speakers of this day. . . .
With my love to you.—I remain, yours truly,
JOHN SUTHERLAND.
(VI.)
BADBEA, 31st July, 1848.
MY DEAR FRIEND,—I am greatly regretting that I did not get more time with you, having a great desire to have the pleasure to converse with you, and to be a short time in your company.
I came Monday night to Brawlbin, the next night to Dunbeath. I was brought here safely. . . . The Most High is faithful in the word of truth and in providences. His blessed word is the staff that Israel ventured on through the Red Sea and the fiery wilderness, with their great and sore trials. At times the people of God have great trials, and at other times great deliverances and miracles, and when they come near Jordan, straits and difficulties, doubts and fears. Notwithstanding, they are supported and put their trust in His Word. “Remember,” saith the sweet Psalmist, “the word upon which thou hast caused me to hope.” And by the blessed Ark who stands in the waters of Jordan, they get safe over, and they are eternally singing His praise, who took them out of great tribulations and washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb, the blessed Lamb of God. O to have the earnest mint! We have reason to rejoice that there is a covenant of grace, and that the Father’s beloved Son in our nature is the head of the covenant, the friend of publicans and sinners, saith Paul, “of whom I am chief.” Oh to have nearness at a throne of grace! A friend wrote me lately that he was not reaping the benefit of the public means he used to do, that he was getting stupid, yet he said we must be as diligent at the public means as the secret. I differ from that; there is nothing like the closet; it is Christ’s nursery for conceiving, nursing, cherishing, and fostering His babes. When we are shut out from the chamber of wine, what will the public means do? Yet Israel was too ready to go to battle, when the Lord was saying to His prophets that He would not go with them. Oh, our zeal so proud after attending the means, although we have reason to fear that we have provoked Him to leave us with mis-carrying wombs and dry breasts.
Christ was at the Reay ordinance, and the blessed gospel has been there these many years. I was there and was listening to the work of the Holy Ghost, how the Spirit is applying His work to elect souls, and I heard of the lowest marks of the Lord’s dealings with the small and great that fear the Lord, but I am a sinner above any mark that I heard, owning, as another said, “I am a deep hypocrite and a shallow professor.” I am afraid that my spots are not the children’s marks, but if I get my soul as a prey at last, the crown of my salvation will be eternally upon Christ’s head.
O dear friend, pray ye fervently that I will be found among them, when He maketh up His jewels. My love to you. Should I have a drop of Christ’s love, surely I would impart it and be in union with you. My kind respects to Mrs. Sinclair and to your dear daughter. I am thinking upon your scattered family. Remember me kindly to Mrs. Mackay, to your sister, John Murray’s wife, to Robert Macbeath and his wife. I will be expecting a long letter from you.—I am, your attached friend,
JOHN SUTHERLAND.