my cups shall be my cordials to restore my care-befeebled heart to the true temper of a well-complexioned mirth. My solid brains are potent, and can bear enough, without the least offence to my distempered senses, or interruption of my boon companions. My tongue can, in the very zenith of my cups, deliver the expressions of my composed thoughts with better sense, than these my grave reformers can their best advised prayers. My constitution is pot-proof, and strong enough to make a fierce encounter with the most stupendous vessel that ever sailed upon the tides of Bacchus. My reason shrinks not; my passion burns not. O BUT, my soul! I hear a threatening voice that interrupts my language, Woe be to them that are mighty to drink wine. Isaiah, v. 22. Prov. xx. 1. Wine is a mocker; strong drink is raging, and whosoever is deceived thereby is not wise. Isaiah, v. 11. Woe be to them that rise up early in the morning to follow strong drink; that continue till night, until wine inflame them. Prov. xxiii. 20. Be not among wine-bibbers. 1 Cor. v. 11. Now I have written unto you, not to keep company, if any that is called a brother be a drunkard; with such a one, no, not to eat. His Soliloquy. My soul, it is the voice of God, digested into a judgment: there is no kicking against pricks, or arguing against a divine truth. Pleadest thou custom? Custom in sin multiplies it. Pleadest thou society? Society in the offence, aggravates the punishment. Pleadest thou help to invention? Woe be to that barrenness, that wants such showers. Pleadest thou strength to bear much wine? "Woe to those that are mighty to drink strong drink." My soul, thou hast sinned against thy Creator in abusing that creature he made to serve thee: thou hast sinned against the creature, in turning it to the Creator's dishonour: thou hast sinned against thyself, in making thy comfort thy confusion. How many want that blessing thou hast turned into a curse? How many thirst whilst thou surfeitest? What satisfaction wilt thou give to the Creator, to the creature, to thyself, to thyself, against all whom thou hast transgressed? To thyself, by a sober life: to the creature, by a right use to thy Creator, by a true repentance: the way to all which, is prayer and thanksgiving. His Prayer. How truly then, O God, this heavy woe belongs to this my boasted sin ! How many judgments are comprised and abstracted in this woe, and all for me, even me, O God, the miserable subject of thy eternal wrath; even me, O Lord, the mark whereat the shafts of thy displeasure level! Lord, I was a sinner in my first conception, and in sin hath my mother brought me forth; I was no sooner born, but I was a slave to sin, and all my life is nothing but the practice and the trade of high, rebellion. I have turned thy blessings into thy dise honour, and all thy graces into wantonness: yet hast thou been my God, even from the very womb, and didst sustain me when I hung upon, my mother's breast; thou hast washed me, O Lord, from my pollution, but like a swine I have returned to my mire. Thou hast glanced into my breast the blessed motions of thy Holy Spirit, but I have quenched them with the spring-tides of my born corruption. Be merciful, O God, unto me! Have mercy on me, O thou Son of David! I cannot, O Lord, expect the children's bread, yet suffer me to lick the crumbs that fall beneath their table. I, that have so oft abused the greatest of thy blessings, am not worthy of the meanest of thy favours. Look, look upon me according to the goodness of thy mercy, and not according to the greatness of my offences. Give me, O God, a sober heart, and a lawful moderation in the enjoyment of thy creatures. Reclaim my appetite from unseasonable delights, lest I turn thy blessings into a curse. In all my dejections, be thou my comfort, and let |