Rutherford Revised (276)

Dear brother, - Grace, mercy and peace be to you- I do not know your situation, whether of not you are our Lord's prisoner in Wigtown. Whatever has happened, I know our Lord Jesus has been enquiring for you,; and He has honoured you to bear His chains, which is the golden end of the cross; and so has chosen a choice and honourable cross for you. I wish you much joy and comfort from it; for I have nothing to say of Christ's cross but much good. I hope that my bad words will never meet Chis or His sweet and easy cross.I know He seeks we argue with this house of clay, this mother prison, this earth, that we love full well.And truly when Christ snuffs out my candle, and makes my light shine upwards, it is one of my greatest wonders, that dirt and clay has so much entry to a soul not made out of clay; and that our soul goes so far out of character as to make an idol of this earth, such a deformed prostitute, as to rob Christ of our love. How fast, how fast does our ship sail! And how fair a wind has time to blow us off these coasts and this land of dying and perishing things! Alas, our ship sails one way, and flees many miles in one hour, to speed us to eternity, and our love and hearts are staying close to backwards, and swimming to leisure, lawless pleasure, vain honour, perishing riches; and to build a fool's nest I know not where, and to lay our eggs on the shore, and fasten our bits of broken anchors on he worst ground in the work, this fleeting and perishing life.! And in the meantime, time and tide carry us to another life, and daily there is less and less oil in our lamps, and less and less sand in our hour glasses. It would be a wise course for us to look away from the beauty of our borrowed prison, and to mind and eye and lust for our country! Lord, Lord, take us home!
   And for myself, Think, if a poor, weak dying sheep looks for an old dyke, and the sheltered side of he hill, in a storm, Have reason to long for a shelter from this storm, in heaven. I know no-one will take my room in front of me there. But certainly sleepy bodies want be at res, a well made bed, and an old damaged ship at a shore, and a wearied traveller at home, and a breathless horse at the race's end. I see nothing in this life but sin and the sour fruits of sin: and oh. what a burden sin is! And what slavery and miserable I bondage it is, to be at the summons of yesses and noes, of such a hard lord master as a body of sin. Truly when I think of it, it is amazing that Chris does not make fire and ashes from such a dry branch as I am. I would often lie down under Christ's feet, and tell Him to trample on me. when I consider my guiltiness. Bur seeing He has sworn that sin will not loose His unchangeable covenant, I am allowed room in the house with the rest of the untaught children, and must bother the Lord of he house with the rest, until the Lord takes the chains off my legs and arms, and destroys this body of sin, and makes a hole or split in the cage of earth, that the bird may fly out, and the imprisoned soul be free. In the meantime , the least receiving of Christ's love is sweet, and the hope of marriage with the Bridegroom holds me in some joyful waiting, that when Christ's summer birds will sing on the branches of the Tree of Life, I will be tuned by God Himself to help them sing of the homecoming of our Well-beloved and His bride to their house together. Then think of this, I think winters and summers, years and days, and time do me a pleasure that they shorten this untwisted and weak thread of my life, and they put it and miseries aside, and that they will marry me to my Bridegroom in an instant.
   Dear brother, pray for me, that it would please the Lord of the vineyard, to give me room to preach His righteousness again to he great congregation.
   Grace, grace be with you. Remember me to your wife.
        Yours, in his sweet Lord Jesus,  S.R.