Happy they who have put off, not only mortality, but sin, and have put on, not only immortality, but perfection, and, in triumph, trample on the neck of all their enemies, having neither foe without, nor foe within. But my daily complaint may be, “O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death?” Satan watches and waylays me; temptation attacks without, and corruption rises up within, and, alas! too often I offend Him who is all love, mercy, and goodness. O for the happy day, when I shall cease to sin, and to offend the best of friends, the Saviour of my soul! when my whole soul shall be pure and holy, and not one seed of sin be left within; when Satan shall tempt no more, and I yield no more to the temptation; when my bitter complaint against corruption and sin, shall be converted into sweet encomiums on redeeming grace: “To Him that loved me, and washed me from my sins in His own blood, be glory and honour, might and dominion, for ever and ever.”
In view of that blessed day will I rejoice; and, confiding in all-sufficient grace, I will travel to the Mount of God with courage; and, leaning on my Beloved, I will journey up through the wilderness undismayed. For it is when I go in mine own strength, or walk alone, that I stumble into sin, to rectify my mistaken notions, spoil my vain confidence, and make me depend on God alone.
Solitude Sweetened.