Passages in the lives of Helen Alexander and James Currie of Pentland, and other papers

46 L e tiers fi'om
and singly and cordially fay, The cup which my Father hath given
me,JJiall I not drink it ? It was our Lord's own words when about
to grapple with His Father's wrath, and the all of the wrath of
man ; yet to make your cup easy He took up His heartsomely,
with, a, Shall I not drink it ? yea, I will drink the bitter dregs of it
that they may but taste of the brim of it. O, my dear friend, is not
His yoke easy and His burden light, besides what it was to Him.
O, prize and praise, employ credit and trust, and lay and leave
yourself and all your cares, fears, and troubles on Him, and this is
the way to please Him and eafe your soul. I can say no more.
Himself be with you, and all your sweet family. I am, your
off ured friend, R. Hamilton.
March 17, 170 1. ■ *
LETTER III.
To James Currie, Merchant in Pentland. - "
Chrijlian Friend, — Having this occafion, I could not but salute
• you and your bed-fellow with a line. Our night seems to grow
still darker and darker, and will do, I think, till the day break ;
for I can see nothing but still more and more confirmations that
nothing but judgments will decide Zioiis controversy ; for see we
not that fin and all manner of abominations has free scouth to
range and rage at random without oppofition and contradiction,
whereas precious truth no sooner begins to gaunt, rax, ftretch, or
rouse itself in the grave, tho' never so faintly, but all ranks —
kings, princes, priests, and people — are all armed, affrighted, pro-
voked, and irritated, and new discoveries of hatred, malice, dis-
satisfaction, and enmity appears in thejr tongues, countenances,
and actions. But no wonder that the adulterer and adulteress,
the thief and robber, are ever.-made to flee the light, which might
both discover and be a mean to apprehend them. I find the