"His foul refin'd beyond the common race,
"Was cultivate by nature, art, and grace.
"He brightly fhone, even in his private sphere,
Ere he poffeft the minifterial chair."
Were we to view him in his public station,
His match we fcarce could find in all the nation.
God's word's the facred fource from which doth flow,
Knowledge divine to mortals here below:
This word he fearch'd with diligence and care;
Gave to each foul its portion and its share.
For, to divide aright God's word of truth,
He was inftructed early in his youth,
His infight into truth's abyfs was great;
And could explain beyond the common rate.
Seraphic principles and graces bright,.
In him confpired to difplay their might.
In public work he taught with folemn awe,
The pieceful gofpel and the fiery law.
Heav'n form'd his mind great gofpel-truths to trace,
His mouth to found the filver trump of grace;
To fpeak the grandeur of the Saviour God;
To blaze his righteousness divine abroad.
His view of every facred line was bright;
Each fermon was a lamp of gospel-light.
The holy theme was trim'd with holy bait;
Each word was maffy, and each fentence great.
His language fhew'd a judgment moft profound,
A depth too great for common lines to found.
His frame was ftill divine, his words exact;
Saints heard the voice which did their hearts attract.
An holy humble courfe of life he steer'd,
That all might fee the doctrine which they heard.
His prefence grave did rev'rence great command,
And crave profound refpect from every hand.
His very look could vanity reclaim,
His countenance put levity to fhame."
A difputant moft bold for truth appear'd;
And 'gainst all errors conqu'ring trophies rear'd:
"His words gave all antagonists a wound,
Which did them foon convince, or foon confound
"His public fpirit was of fuch a pitch,
"That few in zeal for God were found fo rich."
Hark! you who remind him, furely will allow,
That grace triumphant fat upon his brow.
Won't you confefs his mind was much refin'd,
Beyond the common mafs of human kind?
The lovely graces in his bofom found,
Diffus'd ambrofial odours all around.
His lofty mind, ne'er drenchi'd in earthly things,
With eafe could mount to heav'n, with out-ftretch'd
Spy out the glory of the realms of light,
Unfold the grandeur unto mortal fight.
His pious foul, fram'd to furmount the fkies,
With winning charms did floop to vulgar eyes;
Diffufe that knowledge giv'n him from above,
To all mankind, with fervency and love.
Heav'n fill indulgent to his pious mind,
Difplay'd her glorious rays purely refin'd.
The amazing wonders fhew'n to him from thence,
He could, with eafe, to others foon difpenfe.
Thus heav'n and earth in him, did joyful meet;
Nature and grace their lovely charms unite.
His works now extent *, happily display,
How well he underflood the gofpel way.
Th' attentive reader and judicious mind,
In ev'ry page may a rich treafure find.
Thefe volumes elegant contain the fcheme'
Of gofpel doctrine; his beloved theme.
Christ is the theme, whofe robe of righteoufnefs,
He publifh'd, as the faints adorning drefs.--
To form juft fentiments of this great man,
'Tis proper carefully his works we fcan.
There we will find both law and gofpel taught;
The first to rouze, the laft with blifs is fraught.
He ftudy'd firft the finner's cafe to fhew;
And then prefents the balfam to his view."
*Alluding to that beautiful edition of his Practical Works, in two volumes
folic, printed annis 1764, 1765.
From Sinai's mount he founds a loud alarm;
And next poor fouls with gofpel-tidings charm.
He could the faints perplexities well trace,
And in all ftraits afford them great folace.
Souls exercis'd concerning fin or grace,
May in his works find what will fuit their cafe.
There he propounds and folves each cafe he heard;
To faints a mighty cafuift appear'd.
" A fkilful counfellor in each dark cafe;
A hearty fympathifer in diftrefs.
Was ready fill at hand, without requeft,
To ferve the fick, and fuccour the diftreft.
His doctrine ev'ry gloomy fhade difpell'd;
His exhortations more and more excell'd.
This minifterial grace to him was given,
To leave on many hearts a feal of heaven.'
Death! thou devourer of the human race!
Muft fuch a champion great to thee give place!
May't thee fuffice fome leffer light to quell,
Than ftrike the pillars of our Ifrael ?
-Muft ERSKINE too! that man of great renown,
Be foil'd by thee, and to the duft brought down?
Muft fuch a light, that blaz'd fo far abroad,
Be made to yield to thy fuperior nod!
Muft fuch a Christian herald too give place,
So well acquainted both with law and grace?
Divinely taught in all the truths of God,
And did with freedom publifh them abroad?
Yes, yes! He muft!-He's gone !---ERSKINE'S no more! Grim death hath fnatch'd him to the diftant fhore!
Thefe hands, elated oft to heav'n in purity,
All filent in the tomb now ftretch'd doth ly.-
Is't poffible for our rude quill to tell,
How Scotland fhook when this great pillar fell?
Heav'n fure defign'd by fuch a dreadful blow,
No perfonal, but public overthrow.
Lo! now his death has hid the fulgent light,
And wrapt us in the fhades of gloomy night,'-
IS ERSKINE dead! No, fure: the man of God ftill Poffeffes heav'n, in glory ftill furvives.
The blifs and glory he proclaim'd around,
Both now concentre to compofe his crown.
Immortaliz'd, he fhines above the sky;
Regal'd with heav'nly cheer moft fumptuoufly.
The bleffed Jefus in thofe regions high,
He views, not vail'd; but moft confpicuously.
Eternal bleffednefs he reaps in flore;
With heav'nly pleafures cherifh'd evermore;
With endless wealth, and righteousness divine,
A glorious crown, moft brilliantly to fhine,
He now enjoys, with robes molt pure and fine:
Yea, GoD himfelf, with fulnefs all-complete,
Compofe that happinefs to him moll fweet.
Delightful portion! from all harm fecure,
Refrefh'd with rivers chryflaline and pure.
Such foul-delights to him fhall ever laft;
Thefe joys for which he did fo ftrongly thirst.
MUCH fam'd on earth, renown'd for piety;
A midft bright feraphs now fings chearfully.
Sacred thine anthems yield much pleasure here:
T hefe fongs of thine do truly charm the ear*.
E ach line thou wrot'ft does admiration raife;
Roufe up the foul to true feraphic praise.
Religioufly thy life below was fpent:
A mazing pleasures now thy foul content.
Long didit thou labour in the church below,
Pointing out Chrift, the Lamb who faves from woe,
Heav'n's bleffednefs on finners to beflow,
ERSKINE the great! whose pen spread far abroad,
Redeeming love; the fole device of God.
Subftantial themes thy thoughts did much purfue;
K ept pure the truth, efpous'd but by a few.
Integrity of heart, of foul ferene;
No friend to vice, no cloke to the profane :
Employ'd thy talents to reclaim the vain.
* Alluding to his Poetical Pieces.
Is this the Man whom Heav'n defign'd,
With honours full to load?
With what enliv'ned fouls fhould we
Adore and ferve our God?
And if we would thofe bleffings fhare,
Which makes the faints rejoice;
All vice abstain, all virtue love,
And make this God our choice.
Let us for ever blefs the name
Of this exalted King,
That any of the human tribe
Heav'n's anthems high do fing.
GLASGOW, April
15th, 1765.
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