When he finds his soul oppressed with the heavy
guilt of a sin, he gives it vent through his mouth into the ear of his
spiritual physician, from whom he receives cordials answerable to his
complaint. He is a severe exactor of discipline: first upon himself, on
whom he imposes more than one Lent; then upon others, as one that vowed
to be revenged on sin wheresoever he finds it; and though but one hath
offended him, yet his detestation is universal. He is his own taskmaster
for devotion; and if Christianity have any work more difficult or
perilous than other, that he enjoins himself, and resolves contentment
even in miscarriage. It is no marvel if the acquaintance of his wilder
times know him not, for he is quite another from himself; and if his
mind could have had any intermission of dwelling within his breast, it
could not have known this was the lodging. Nothing but an outside is the
same it was, and that altered more with regeneration than with age. None
but he can relish the promises of the gospel, which he finds so sweet
that he complains not, his thirst after them is unsatiable; and now that
he hath found his Saviour, he hugs Him so fast and holds Him so dear
that he feels not when his life is fetched away from him for his
martyrdom. The latter part of his life is so led as if he desired to
unlive his youth, and his last testament is full of restitutions and
legacies of piety. In sum, he hath so lived and died as that Satan hath
no such match, sin hath no such enemy, God hath no such servant as he.
Pages:
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159