Lasswade, 6th June, 1875.
My Dear Friend, — I was putting on my coat to take some letters to the post when yours came in, so I sit down again, and will take this with me when I go. I regret to learn that you have not been quite well, “down” in body and mind as you say, and that as I am “Hopeful,” you need a word of comfort from me. As to my being “Hopeful,” let me first clear off that misunderstanding. On our first acquaintance you represented yourself at your worst, and what could I do but try to fulfil the command, “Speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem,” which is not difficult to do when Jerusalem is made willing to accept no comfort but such as comes, not only in loving kindness and mercy, but also in righteousness and judgment. Hence, perhaps, “Hopeful” did make an impression on the line of buoyancy, but he is for all that a very sorrowful fellow, and often after making such impressions, he has to go away by himself and groan, and sob, and sigh, and suffer deserved chastisement. As to needing a word of comfort from me, if your need touches my sinful heart how must it tell on His heart who is the gracious and sympathizing High Priest, and who is infinitely more tender and more ready to help than any fellow-sinner? I think, however, that this depression of spirit of which you speak is one of the “manifold dispensations” through which the Lord sometimes takes His children — one of the “ways of the wilderness” through which He sometimes leads them round about, so that they may learn the rich variety of covenant provision made for all their need. You know the science of the rainbow. We cannot have the rainbow, unless there be the cloud for it to rest upon. The beautiful rays are there, streaming away into invisible space, but in order to the revelation of the beauty, the interception of the cloud is essential. “I do set my bow in the cloud, and it shall come to pass, saith the Lord, that when I do bring a cloud over the earth, the bow shall be seen in the cloud, and it shall be for a token of the covenant between me and the earth.” May we not say that when the Lord brings a cloud, not over the earth, but over the heart, then He “sets a bow in the cloud,” such a “bow” as this — “Why art thou cast down, O my soul, and why art thou disquieted within me, hope thou in God, for I shall yet praise him who is the health of my countenance and my God,” Do you not see “the bow?” “Hope thou in God who is the health of my countenance and my God.” “My God” — is not that “the token of the covenant, the echo of the covenant promise, “I will be to them a God, and they shall be to me a people?” And a people that shall “yet praise Him.” So you see the “praise” is in the covenant with all else, but you and I would stint the praise until we are relieved from our cast down state. “Gratitude,” says a sardonic writer, “is thankfulness for favours received that have satiated the greed of human nature.” But in the kingdom of grace gratitude is thankfulness for favours to come, favours that will come, because they are in the covenant, and faith is already the substance of them, and the evidence of them, while yet they are unseen and unenjoyed; therefore “why are thou cast down, O my soul?” Really, though I am not “Hopeful” you make me write as though I were, and why should I not be, and you too? Answer that if you can, at least if you can consistently with your duty to glorify Him who is the Hope of Israel.
I was meditating this morning on the words, “The Lord is gracious and full of compassion,” and I thought, “The Lord is gracious,” that is true, because He says Himself He is so. It is also inexhaustible, because it reveals the character of Him who is infinite, therefore, being true and inexhaustible it should be enough for me — enough to live upon, and enough to die upon. But is it apprehended and appropriated by me? there’s the weak point of the argument. Well, is He not gracious enough to enable me to apprehend and appropriate it? Is He not gracious enough to be willing that I should apprehend and appropriate it? He is; therefore it just comes round again to the simple but blessed statement, “The Lord is gracious,” and more or better cannot be.
You would observe from the newspapers that I took no part in the Church and State debate, didn’t even vote. I could have voted with Sir Henry Moncrieff, for his motion was harmless, but I knew it was framed not so much with the view of emphasising our Free Church position as of keeping in check our more advanced men, and I was glad on that account it got such a large following. But I am happy to tell you that I expect soon to be out of earshot, for a season, of the alarm of war, as I am looking forward to a six weeks’ sojourn in the Highlands. I go to Dornoch (D.V.) on the third week of this month to the Communion there, afterwards to Rogart, and there will remain on until after the Dingwall Communion, first week of August. Indeed, my heart’s in the Highlands already, so add no more at present, but that I hope soon to have good accounts of your improved health, and remain, yours, &c.,
Hugh Martin
Let zeal be accompanied with meekness, that you may be free from passion and prejudice; and let meekness be backed with zeal, that you may be free of lukewarmness and indifference.
James Renwick