“Allace! sall we, efter so many graces that God has offerit in our dayis, for pleasure, or for vane threatnying of thame whome our hart knaweth and our mouthes have confessit to be odious idolateris, altogidder without resistance turne back to our vomit and damnabill ydolatrie, to the perdition of us and our posteritie? O horribill to be hard! Sall Godis halie preceptis wirk no greater obedience in us? Sall nature no otherwayis molifie our hartis? Sall not fatherlie pitie overcum this cruelnes? I speik to you, O natural fatheris! Behold your children with the eie of mercie, and considder the end of thair creatioun. Crueltie it were to saif your selves, and damn thame. But, O! more than crueltie, and madnes that can not be expressit, gif,[183] for the pleasure of a moment, ye depryve yourselves and your posteritie of that eternall joy that is ordanit for thame that continewis in confessioun of Christis name to the end. Gif natural lufe, fatherly affectioun, reverence of God, feir {129} of torment, or yit hoip of lyfe, move you, then will ye ganestand that abominabill ydol; whilk, gif ye do not, then, allace! the sone[184] is gone doun, and the lyht is quyte lost, the trompet is ceissit, and ydolatrie is placeit in quietnes and rest. But gif God sall strenthin you, (as unfainedlie I pray that his majestie may,) then is their but ane dark clude overspred the sone for ane moment, whilk schortlie shall vanische, sa that the beames efter salbe seven fald mair bryht and amiable nor they were befoir. Your patience and constancie salbe a louder trompit to your posteritie than were the voces of the prophetis that instructit you; and so is not the trompit ceissit sa lang as any baldlie resistith ydolatrie. And, thairfoir, for the tender mercies of God, arme yourselves to stand with Christ in this his schorte battell.