Three treatises of the vanity of the creature. The sinfulness of sin. The life…Three treatises of the vanity of the creature. The sinfulnesse of sinne. The life…

I will but yet I rebel, I follow, and yet I fall, I press forward and yet I faint and flag, I wrestle and yet I halt, I pray and yet I sin, I fight and yet I am Captive, I crucify my¹ lusts, and yet they revile me, I watch my heart, and yet it runs away from me; God was at first the Author of nothing but peace within me, what envious man hath sowed this war in my bowels? Let the Apostle answer this question saith Saint Austen, By one man sin entered into the world. That which I would be I am not, and that which I hate I am; O wretched man, in whom the Cross of Christ hath not yet worn out the poisonous and bitter taste of that first tree. It is the pathetical complaint of Bonifacius in the same Father. How doth the Apostle even break with complaining of this rebellious and captivating power of original concupiscence, [Greek or Hebrew], O wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me? though he were delivered from the damnation, yet he was not delivered from the misery of this sin, which must necessarily arise from the stirrings, and conflicts of it. Though lust in the regenerate be not damnable, because albeit it bring forth sin, yet it doth not finish, and consummate it, for it is broken off by repentance, and disabled by the power of Christs spirit, yet it is still miserable, because it disquieteth the spiritual peace and tranquillity of the soul. But there is no great ⟨p. 161⟩danger in the war, if the enemy be either foolish, or weak, or treatable, that either victory may be quickly gotten, or some pacifications and compositions concluded. But no such things here.

I will but yet I rebell, I follow, and yet I fall, I presse forward and yet I faint and flagge, I wrestle and yet I halt, I pray and yet I sinne, I fight and yet I am Captive, I crucifie my¹ lusts, and yet they revile me, I watch my heart, and yet it runnes away from me; God was at first the Author of nothing but peace within me, what envious man hath sowed this warre in my bowels? Let the Apostle answer this question saith Saint Austen, By one man sinne entred into the world. That which I would be I am not, and that which I hate I am; O wretched man, in whom the Crosse of Christ hath not yet worne out the poysonous and bitter tast of that first tree. It is the patheticall complaint of Bonifacius in the same Father. How doth the Apostle even breake with complaining of this rebellious and captivating power of originall concupiscence, , O wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me? though hee were delivered from the damnation, yet hee was not delivered from the miserie of this sinne, which must necessarily arise from the stirrings, and conflicts of it. Though lust in the regenerate bee not damnable, because albeit it bring forth sinne, yet it doth not finish, and consummate it, for it is broken off by repentance, and disabled by the power of Christs spirit, yet it is still miserable, because it disquieteth the spirituall peace and tranquillity of the soule. But there is no great