Oh, what owe I to the file, to the hammer, to the furnace of my Lord Jesus! who hath now let me see how good the wheat of Christ is, that goeth through His mill, and His oven, to be made bread for His own table. Grace tried is better than grace, and it is more than grace; it is glory in its infancy. I now see that godliness is more than the outside, and this world’s passments and their buskings. Who knoweth the truth of grace without a trial? Oh, how little getteth Christ of us, but that which He winneth with much toil and pains! And how soon would faith freeze without a cross! When Christ blesseth His own crosses with a tongue, they breathe out Christ’s love, wisdom, kindness, and care of us.
Samuel Rutherford, Letters. (Edinburgh, 1891) 161.