For at my first entry into this trial (being cast down and troubled
with challenges and jealousies of His love, whose name and testimony
I now bear in my bonds), I feared nothing more than that I was casten
over the dyke of the vineyard, as a dry tree. But, blessed be His
dear name, the dry tree was in the fire, and was not burnt; His dew
came down and quickened the root of a withered plant. And now He is
come again with joy, and has been pleased to feast His exiled and
afflicted prisoner with the joy of His consolations. Now I weep, but
am not sad; I am chastened, but I die not; I have loss, but I want
nothing; this water cannot drown me, this fire cannot burn me,
because of the good-will of Him that dwelt in the Bush. The worst
things of Christ, His reproaches, His cross, are better than Egypt's
treasures. I would not give, nor exchange, my bonds for the prelates'
velvets; nor my prison for their coaches; nor my sighs for all the
world's laughter. This clay-idol, the world, has no great court in my
soul. Christ has come and run away to heaven with my heart and my
love, so that neither love is mine:- Samuel Rutherford, Letter
XXVII. To LADY HALHILL,ABERDEEN, March 14, 1637 |