The way to true happiness in a serious treatise /

Alas for thee poor man, how effectually hath sin undone thee, and depraved thee, and despoiled thee even of the reason to look after thine own everlasting good! Oh miserable Caitiff, what stupidity and senselessness hath surprised thee! Oh let me knock up and awake this sleeper. Who dwells within the walls of this flash? ⟨p. 131⟩Is there ever a soul here, a rational understanding soul? Or art thou only a walking Ghost, a senseless lump? Art thou a reasonable foul, and yet so far brutified, as to forget thy self immortal, and to think thy self to be as the beasts that perish? Art thou turned into flesh, that thou favourest nothing but gratifying the sense, and making provision for the flesh? Or else having reason to understand the eternity of thy future state, dost thou yet make light of being everlastingly miserable? which is to be so much below a brute, as it is worse to act against reason, than to act without it. O unhappy soul, that wast the glory of man, the mate of Angels, and the image of God! that wast Gods representative in the world, and hadst the supremacy amongst the creatures, and the dominion over thy makers works! Art thou now become a slave to sense, a servant to so base an Idol, as thy belly? for no higher felicity, than to fill thee with the wind of mans applause, or heaping together a little refined earth, no more suitable to thy spiritual, immortal nature, than the dirt, and sticks? Oh why dost thou not bethink thee where thou shalt be for ever? Death is at hand, the Judge is even at the door. Jam. 5. 9. Yet a little whil•, and time shall be no longer. Rev. 10. 5, 6. And wilt thou run the hazard of continuing in such a state, in which if thou be overtaken, thou art irrecoverably miserable.

Alas for thee poor man, how effectually hath sin undone thee, and depraved thee, and despoiled thee even of the reason to look after thine own everlasting good! Oh miserable Caitiff, what stupidity and senselesness hath surprized thee! Oh let me knock up and awake this sleeper. Who dwells within the walls of this flash? ⟨p. 131⟩Is there ever a soul here, a rational understanding soul? Or art thou only a walking Ghost, a sensless lump? Art thou a reasonable foul, and yet so far brutified, as to forget thy self immortal, and to think thy self to be as the beasts that perish? Art thou turned into flesh, that thou favourest nothing but gratifying the sense, and making provision for the flesh? Or else having reason to understand the eternity of thy future state, dost thou yet make light of being everlastingly miserable? which is to be so much below a bruit, as it is worse to act against reason, than to act without it. O unhappy soul, that wast the glory of man, the mate of Angels, and the image of God! that wast Gods representative in the world, and hadst the supremacy amongst the creatures, and the dominion over thy makers works! Art thou now become a slave to sense, a servant to so base an Idol, as thy belly? for no higher felicity, than to fill thee with the wind of mans applause, or heaping together a little refined earth, no more suitable to thy spiritual, immortal nature, than the dirt, and sticks? Oh why dost thou not bethink thee where thou shalt be for ever? Death is at hand, the Iudge is even at the door.