Puritan Samuel Rutherford’s Letters have been an inspiration to many during his lifetime. Even the great Charles Spurgeon drew from the Rutherford well:
‘When we are dead and gone let the world know that Spurgeon held Rutherford’s Letters to be the nearest thing to inspiration which can be found in all the writings of mere men.’ ~ Charles H. Spurgeon
No man is perfect and neither was Rutherford. It is comforting to know that even the great Puritans struggled with sin and tribulations. And yet God still used them in powerful ways! Rutherford showed us the loveliness of Jesus Christ. The following observations are excerpts from the book Meet the Puritans:
An English merchant put it this way, “I came to Irvine, and heard a well-favored, proper old man [David Dickson] with a long beard, and that man showed me all my heart. Then I went to St. Andrews, where I heard a sweet, majestic-looking man [Robert Blair], and he showed me the majesty of God. After him I heard a little, fair man [Rutherford], and he showed me the loveliness of Christ.” (Emphasis mine)
Rutherford was not always easy to get along with. On the one hand, he was godly and humble. On the other hand, he was a man of strong emotions who occasionally lost his temper and heaped abuse on his opponents. Rutherford himself once told David Dickson, “I am made of extremes.” He also frequently suffered from depression. Nevertheless, God used those times to prepare Rutherford to comfort other suffering believers. (Emphasis mine)
Rutherford’s pastoral and edifying letters have been compiled in books and are available to read online. If you love and prefer books (and we do), Banner of Truth offer a beautiful 700+ page cloth-bound volume. On the other hand you can download an 852 age PDF version of Rutherford’s Letters HERE.
This is an excerpt of a beautiful poem inspired by Letters and Last Words of Samuel Rutherford. It was written by Mrs. A. R. Cousin and can be read at Fire and Ice: Puritan and Reformed Writings. It is also found in the PDF download above.
The sands of time are sinking,
The dawn of Heaven breaks,
The summer morn I’ve sighed for,
The fair sweet morn awakes:
Dark, dark hath been the midnight,
But dayspring is at hand,
And glory—glory dwelleth
In Immanuel’s land.
Oh! well it is for ever,
Oh! well for evermore,
My nest hung in no forest
Of all this death-doom’d shore
Yea, let the vain world vanish,
As from the ship the strand,
While glory—glory dwelleth
In Immanuel’s land.
There the Red Rose of Sharon
Unfolds its heartsome bloom,
And fills the air of Heaven
With ravishing perfume:—
Oh! to behold it blossom,
While by its fragrance fann’d,
Where glory—glory dwelleth
In Immanuel’s land.
The King there in His beauty,
Without a veil, is seen:
It were a well-spent journey,
Though seven deaths lay between.
The Lamb, with His fair army,
Doth on Mount Zion stand,
And glory—glory dwelleth
In Immanuel’s land.
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