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Reader, It gives me satisfaction enough to understand, that this book has already been useful and edifying to some, however it is entertained by others. The gospel itself is to some the savour of life, to others the savour of death; to some wisdom, to others foolishness; to some matter of faith, love, and comfort; to others matter of mockery and scorn. I shall be far from thinking it any discredit or disparagement to this book, if it meet with the like entertainment.

May the Lord of heaven and earth, who over-rules all things, accompany it in its journies, abroad or at home, with his blessing to their souls, for their holy recreation and their spiritual edification and comfort and to his care I commend it, in the words of a famous and justly celebrated Scots poet, upon Psalm xxxv. 1.

Which

Rerum sancte Opifex, ades,
Et patrocinio protege me tuo.

may be adapted to the matter in hand thus,

The truth which hell may criticise,
Great God, be near to patroze.

R. ERSKINE.

POEM,

DEDICATED TO THE

REVEREND MR RALPH ERSKINE,

By a LADY in New England, on reading his GOSPEL SONNETS

ERSKINE, thou blessed herald, sound,

Till sin's black empire totter to the ground.
Well hast thou Sinai's awful flames display'd,
And rebels doom before their conscience laid:
From sin, from self, from trust in duty fly,
Commit thy naked soul to Christ, or die,
Go on and prosper in the name of God,
Seraphic preacher, through the thorny road :
The gracious Christ thy labours will reward;
His angel-bands be thy perpetual guard :
Though hell's dark regions at the present hiss,
The God of glory thy strong refuge is.
Mere moral preachers have no pow'r to charm,
Thy lines are such my nobler passions warm ;
These glorious truths hath set my soul on fire,
And while I read, I'm love and pure desire.
May the black train of errors hatch'd in hell;
No longer in this globe in quiet dwell:
May more like you be rais'd to show their shame,
And call them by their diabolic name.
Exalt the Lamb in lovely white and red,
Angels and saints his lasting honours spread;
My trembling soul shall bear her feeble part,
'Tis he hath charm'd my soul, and won my heart.
Bless'd be the Father, for electing love:
Bless'd be the Son, who does my guilt remove;
Bless'd be the Dove, who does his grace apply.
Oh! may I praising live, and praising die!

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CHA P. II.

C

4L

110

THE BELIEVER'S RIDDLE; OR, THE MYSTERY OF FAITH.
The Preface, shewing the use and design of the Riddle, and how all
fatal errors proceed from ignorance of such mysteries,

Sect. 1. The mystery of the saints' pedigree, and especially of their

relation to Christ's wonderful person,

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