For ye hadna putten in ye a spirit oʼ slavery, bringin ye back intil dreid; but ye had putten intil ye a spirit oʼ adoption, in whilk we cryʼt oot, “Abba! Faither!”
Hoo muckle mair sal the blude oʼ Christ, wha, throwe the ever‐leevin Spirit offerʼt his sel, wantin blemish, until God, purify yere conscience frae deid warks, to the offerin up oʼ a divine service to the leevin God?
“Be‐na‐fleyʼt as to whatna things ye are to dree. And look! the Enemy is aboot to cast some oʼ ye intil thrall, that ye may be testit; and yeʼse hae dool ten days. Be ye leal to death, and I wull gie ye the croon oʼ Life!