189 THE SERPENT. HIS SUBTILTY. WHAT miserable dignity belongs unto the honourable name of man! what sad prerogatives pertain to that unhappy generation of mankind! Ah! what is man but a polluted lump of living clay, a little heap of self-corrupted earth? created for happiness, born to sorrow: and what is mankind but a transitory succession of misery, on whom mortality is generally entailed from generation to generation? Each particular man is the short and sad story of mankind, written by his own dear experience in a more favourable style, wherein every one is naturally inclined to spare himself, and hide his nakedness among the shades; where, being lost, he seeks himself unfound, or finds himself unknown, or knows himself most miserable. The devil appeared not as a lion; strength could not constrain an upright soul: he appeared not as a dragon; fear could not compel a dauntless spirit: but he appeared a serpent, to insinuate and creep into the bosom of his soft affections. How often is this story acted by me, the miserablest of Adam's sons! Behold, how the forbidden tree of vain delight stands laden with her pleasant fruits! see how the serpant twists and winds, and tempts the weaker vessel of my body! which, having yielded, tastes, and tempts my better part; which done, what nakedness. what shame is presented before my guilty eyes what slight excuses (patched like leaves together I frame to hide my nakedness, my shame! and R when the voice of my crying conscience calls me in the cool of my lusts, oh, how I start and tremble, and seek for covert among the trees! where, being found at last, and questioned, my soul accuses the infirmity of my body; my body accuses that serpentine temptation; so that all three, being partners in sin, are sad partakers of the punishment. Thus, every minute, O my soul, art thou surprised; thus, every moment doth this twisting serpent tempt and overcome thy frailty; thus, every minute are eternal deaths still multiplied upon thee. What hopes hast thou, in thy collapsed estate, to overcome that serpent, which Adam, in his perfection, did not conquer? CHEER up, my soul; there is a Champion found who shall curb this serpent's power, and Heaven has spoken it : The seed of the woman shall break the serpent's head. Gen. iii. 15. And the God of Peace shall bruise Satan under your feet shortly. Rom. xvi. 20. For this purpose the Son of God was manifested, that he might destroy the works of the devil. 1 John, iii. 8. Above all things take the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench the fiery darts of Satan. Ephes. vi. 16. He shall make war with the Lamb, and the Lamb shall overcome him. Rev. xvii. 14. HIS SOLILOQUY. MAN, by the power of transcendent good, was created good, with a power to continue good : man, through disobedience, lost this power, and that arbitrary goodness is turned to necessary evil. The whole mass is corrupted, and lies in the same condition it made itself; but God, out of an unsearchable love to his creature, out of his infinite wisdom (not violating his justice) found a way to exercise his mercy, drawing what handfuls he pleased (not for the dignity of the matter) out of this lump; the rest he left to itself. As it had been no injustice in God to leave the whole in the perdition it had cast itself, so it was his inscrutable mercy to draw forth some part out of that self-made perdition. This redemption, O my soul, was a legacy given at the death of thy redeemer, and thy business is to search the will, and in it, thy interest: but where is that will? search the Scriptures: but how shall it appear by searching? by the fruit thou shalt know the tree. Examine thine heart: dost thou find there a love to God for his own sake, and a love to thy neighbour for God's sake, and to both for obedience sake? Go thy ways, thou art in the will; and the seed of the woman hath broke the serpent's head. HIS PRAYER. O GOD, that didst create mankind for the glory of thy name, and redeemedst man, being lost, with the blood of thy only Son, and hast preserved him by thy free mercy and continual providence-I, a poor son of miserable Adam, do here acknowledge myself unworthy of the least of all thy mercies. Lord, what am I that thou shouldst look upon me? and what is the son of thy handmaid, that thou shouldst think upon him? I know the best of all my actions are unclean, and these my very prayers, are abomina tion in thy sight. My thoughts, my words, nay, the whole course of my life, is sin; and there is nothing in me which deserves not death. Yet, Lord, even for the altar's sake on which I offer up this sinful sacrifice, loath not the prayers of my polluted lips, nor stop thy ears against my sad complaints. Lord, I am as vile as sin can make me, and deserve what curse thy wrath can lay upon me: I brought corruption from the womb, and sucked rebellion from the very breast; my life is nothing but a trade of sin, wherein I hourly heap upon myself wrath against the day of wrath; that, insomuch, wert thou not more merciful than I am or can be to myself, I had been now roaring under thy justice-that am here begging for thy mercy! Lord, I am nothing but infirmity, and daily wallow in my own corruptions; that old serpent continually besieges me, and the feebleness of my old man cannot resist him. Arise, O God, and crush thy enemy and mine, whose fury through my confusion aims at thy dishonour; let the seed of the woman quicken in my soul, and strengthen my weakness to encounter with temptation; let it, oh, let it break the serpent's head, that I may conquer for the time to come; and give thou me a broken heart, that I may grieve for the time past; give me water from the spring of life, that it may quench the fiery darts of death; strengthen the new man in me, and let the power of the old man languish daily; that being confident in thy promise, I may be sensible of thy performance ;-and being freed by thy power, I may be filled with thy praise, and glorify thy name for ever and for ever. 193 THE SINNER. HIS POVERTY. WHEREIN doth this my natural state excel a beast? In what one thing? Am I not worse? Their outward senses are more perfect, my inward senses are less pure. Their natural instinct desires good, and chooses it; but my perverted will sees good, and yet declines it. They eat, being satisfied with moderation; perchance I want, or surfeit. They sleep secure from fears and cares, when I am kept awake with both. They cry to Heaven, and are fed by Providence; I, trusting to myself, want through my improvidence. The worthless sparrows are lodged in their downy feathers; the silly sheep repose in their warm fleeces; but I have nothing to cover my nakedness, nothing to hide my shame! Naked I was born into the world, and have nothing in the world which I may call mine own; or if I have, it is lost with the desire of having. I look into my soul, and can find nothing there but the absence of what I had, or the defect of what I want. I pry into my understanding, and and there I find nothing but darkness; I search into my will, and there I find nothing but perverseness; I examine my affections, and there I find nothing but disorder; I view my disposition, and there I find nothing but distemper; what I had I have not, and what I want I cannot gain. If I have obtained any thing that is good, quickly lose it for want of knowledge how to prize it; if I find any good which I had lost, I |