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How narrowly my feet escap'd
The snares of death and hell.
The flattering joys of sense
Assail'd my foolish heart,
While Satan with malicious skill
Guided the pois'nous dart.

I fell beneath the stroke,
But fell to rise again;
My anguish rous'd me into life,
And pleasure sprung from pain.
Darkness, and shame, and grief,
Oppress'd my gloomy mind;
I look'd around me for relief,
But no relief could find.

At length to God I cry'd;
He heard my plantive sigh;
He heard, and instantly he sent
Salvation from on high.

My drooping head he rais'd;
My bleeding wounds he heal'd;
Pardon'd my sins; and, with a smile,
The gracious pardon seal'd.

O! may I ne'er forget
The mercy of my God;
Nor ever want a tongue to spread
His loudest praise abroad.

The triumphs of the Cross.

No more, dear Saviour! will I boast
Of beauty, wealth, or loud applause:
The world hath all its glories lost,
Amid the triumphs of thy cross.
In every feature of thy face,
Beauty her fairest charms displays;
Truth, wisdom, majesty, and grace,
Shine thence in sweetly-mingled rays.

Thy wealth the power of thought transcends,
'Tis vast, immense, and all divine:
Thy empire, Lord! o'er worlds extends;
The sun, the moon, the stars are thine.

Yet, (O how marvellous the sight!)
I see thee on a cross expire;
Thy Godhead veil'd in sable night;
And angels from the scene retire.

But why from these sad scenes retreat?
Why with your wings your faces hide?
He ne'er appear'd so good, so great,
As when he bow'd his head and died,
The indignation of a GoD
On him avenging justice hurl'd;
Beneath the weight he firmly stood,
And nobly sav'd a falling world.
Those triumphs of stupendous grace
Surprise, rejoice, and melt my heart:
Lord! at thy cross I stand and gaze,
Nor would I ever thence depart!

My flesh is meat indeed, John vi. 53-55, HERE at thy table, Lord! we meet

To feed on food divine:

Thy body is the bread we eat,
Thy precious blood the winę,

He that prepares the rich repast,
Himself comes down and dies;
And then invites us thus to feast
Upon the sacrifice.

The bitter torments he endur'd
Upon the shameful cross,
For us, his welcome guests, procur'd
These heart-reviving joys.

His body torn with rudest hands

Becomes the finest bread;

And with the blessing he commands,
Our noblest hopes are fed.

His blood, that from each op'ning vein
In purple torrents ran,

Hath fill'd this cup with generous wine,
That cheers both GoD and man.

Sure there was never love so free,
Dear Saviour! so divine!

TO THE

CHURCH AND CONGREGATION,

ASSEMBLING IN

LITTLE WILD STREET,

NEAR

LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS.

MY DEAR FRIends,

As my view in discoursing of The Divine Authority and Various Use of the Holy Scriptures, is not polemical but practical, you will not expect in the following Sermons a particular investigation of these important subjects:-subjects which have been largely and ably discussed by many excellent writers. All I mean is, to bring the general ideas into a narrow compass, and to place them in a plain and easy light.

IN the three first Sermons are stated the general grounds on which the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments are held to be divine. In the fourth are pointed out the uses to which they are to be applied. In the fifth a general view is taken of the most material objections of unbelievers. This is followed, in the sixth, with other deductions of a practical kind from the facts before stated and proved. And in the two last Sermons is shewn at large the duty which Christians owe to the Holy Scriptures.

My aim in discoursing of this subject, and throwing it into the form just described, is-to engage the serious and cordial attention of all to this Sacred Book—to impress on their minds the most awful and venerable ideas of the blessed God, with whose finger it was written, and thereby prevent their treating

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it as a mere human composure-to convince them that this is the only infallible test by which every question in religion is to be tried to represent the reasonableness and importance of preserving sacred the right of private judgment—to assist the impartial enquirer in his endeavours to come at the true meaning of Scripture-and, above all, to fix on the heart, with the blessing of God, a deep sense of the infinite utility and indispensable importance of entering into the spirit of those divine truths it reveals.

Ir these ends should in any degree be attained by these plain Sermons, my heart will rejoice; and I have no doubt but you, my Friends, to whose candour and affection, for a long course of years, I owe so many obligations, will cordially unite with me in praise to Him, on whose influence and grace the success of our mutual endeavours for promoting real religion and saving the immortal souls of men, entirely depends.

I am, my dear Friends,

Muswell-Hill, May 7th, 1790.

With great Affection,
Your Servant,

in the Gospel of Christ,

SAMUEL STENNETT.

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