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SAMUEL RUTHERFORD

Letter 229. To Mr. Hugh Mackail of Irvine.

The Law, This World Under Christ's Control for the Believer.

My Very Dear Brother,
You know that men may happily withstand all the charges of the doleful Law if they stand upon Grace's ground, and betwixt the Mediator's breasts. And this is the sinner's safest way; for there is a bed for wearied sinners to rest in, in the New Covenant, though no bed of Christ's making to sleep in. The Law shall never be my judge, by Christ's grace. If I get no more good out of it (I shall find a severe enough judgement in the Gospel to humble, and to cast me down), it is, I grant, a good harsh friend to follow a traitor to the bar, and to chafe him till he come to Christ . We may blame ourselves, who cause the Law to demand such an costly debt, to scare us away from Jesus, and to dispute about a righteousness of our own.) Such is a world in the moon, a chimera, and a night-dream that has pride as its father and mother. There cannot be a more humble soul than a believer; it requires no pride for a drowning man to catch hold of a rock.
I rejoice that the wheels of this confused world roll, , mesh and are driven according to our Lord's will. Out of whatever quarter the wind blows, it will blow us onto our Lord. No wind can blow our sails overboard; because Christ's skill, and honour of His wisdom, are given as our security and laid down at the stake for the sea-passengers, that He shall put them safe off His hand on the shore, in His Father's own land, our native home ground.
My dear brother, do not be afraid at the cross of Christ. It is not seen yet what Christ will do for you, when it comes to the worst: He will withhold His grace till you be in a strait, and then bring forth the decreed birth for your salvation (Zeph. 9:9). You are an arrow of His own making ; let Him shoot you against a wall of brass, your point shall keep whole. I cannot, for multitude of letters and distraction of friends, prepare what I would for the times: I have not one hour of spare time, even if the day were forty hours long. Remember me in prayer.
Grace be with you.
Yours, in his sweet Lord Jesus,
S.R. Aberdeen, Sept. 5, 1637.

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