I would counsel all the ransomed ones to learn this song, and to drink and be drunk with the love of Jesus. O fairest, O highest, O loveliest One, open the well! Oh, water the burnt and withered travellers with this love of Thine! I think it is possible on earth to build a young New Jerusalem, a little new heaven, of this surpassing love. God either send me more of this love, or take me quickly over the water, where I may be filled with His love. My softness cannot take with want. I profess I bear not hunger of Christ's love fair. I know not if I play foul play with Christ, but I would have a link of that chain of His providence mended, in pining and delaying the hungry on-waiters. For myself, I could wish that Christ would let out upon me more of that love. Yet to say Christ is a niggard to me, I dare not; and if I say I have abundance of His love, I should lie. I am half straitened[347] to complain, and cry, "Lord Jesus, hold Thy hand no longer."
[347] Constrained; perhaps Luke xii. 50 was in his thoughts.
Worthy Sir, let me have your prayers, in my bonds. Grace be with you,
Yours, in his sweet Lord Jesus,
S. R. ABERDEEN, _Sept. 7, 1637_.
CCXXXIV.--_To_ JAMES LINDSAY (_a friend of R. Blair and other ministers_).
[We have no means of ascertaining who this correspondent was.]