II.
I perceive by some hints in a late discourse, the rough draft of the portrait of my soul has reached your hands; the lines perhaps were strong in many parts, but yet imperfect. This I call its fellow; but alas! were I to write whole volumes upon the subject they would still be but small sketches.
To anatomise my own soul and point out the irregular turnings and windings of a deceitful heart is beyond my skill. Satan is always beating and hunting the powers of my soul; watching what will start next, whether pride sensuality, covetousness, worldly pleasures, etc., and whatever sins they are he will be sure to strike in and follow. How often has the soul gone hand in hand with Satan, in chase after carnal pleasures, till he has been even tired, and then what fruit has it produced but sorrow and shame!
But, sir, in order to my deciphering the combined forces of sin, hell, and the world, against me, you have justly opposed the three-fold grand alliance that is for every believer, namely, Father, Son, and Spirit. True, but the query still remains, Can such an one as you be in alliance with the King of Heaven, or bear the image and stamp of the Lord Jesus? Where is the consistency? I want to know the worst myself. I own a spark of real grace shall be kept alive: let the wind of temptation blow ever so high and strong, or the waves of temptation beat ever so hard, true grace shall be victorious. This is a matter of comfort, to find a smoking ember under a load of ashes.
There may be, indeed, two men in one person, the old and the new man, flesh and spirit—Rom. vii. 15-23. So upon a medal, there may be upon one side the image of the devil, rebellion, slavery, lust, and tyranny; and on the other side, the effigy of a good prince, loyal subjects, peace and plenty, and the enemies’ hearts trampled upon as conquered. This I think a lively representation of the case; and it would be a happy turn could I make it out so to my own soul.
I want to see the divine image carved more legibly on my own heart. I am sure I see the picture of the devil strong enough there. I do not so much fear the allied army of the Prince of the world, and the world itself, under the command of its captain-general, the devil, as I fear the rebellion in my own bowels, the restless monster, sin, within me. Civil wars are the most shocking, and the most fatal; besides, my soul is the seat of wars and conflicts, and you know, sir, what havoc is made usually in such places.