(2.) Secondly, Besides the common materials of sin that are digged out of this mine, the world hath something of an aptitude in it to tempt. Not that it hath properly and formally, insidiationis animum, an active subtlety to lay snares for men, but yet it is not so purely passive as to make it altogether innocent. There is something of a curse upon it ever since, by the fall of man. It was loosened from its proper, primitive ends; and as the devil spake by the serpent, so doth he urge, speak, tempt, and insinuate by the world, so that it is still an occasion of danger to us, and hath a special advantage over our affections, upon several accounts. As, [1.] In that it is in itself lawful to be used. [2.] In that it is suitable to our desires and tempers. [3.] In some respects it might be necessary and advantageous for the comfort of life, for the support of families, and to enable us to be helpful to others. [4.] It is near to us, under our eye; we have familiar converse with it, it is still with us. [5.] We have a natural propensity to be in love with it; the flesh would fain be pleased, and nothing is more answerable to it than the pleasures of the world. We need not wonder then, when we see it so highly captivating the affections of men, and leading them bound in chains and fetters. Some make it their god; gain is all their godliness and religion; they seek their ‘portion in this life,’ Ps. xvii. 14; this is their treasure, and here is their heart; and it would be no less wonder if Satan should be guilty of so much oversight, as to neglect the use of an instrument which is every way so fitted for his purpose.

(3.) Thirdly, Besides this fair prospect which it gives to sin, it hath an enmity to God and his ways, which is no less advantageous to the devil. This is positively affirmed, James iv. 4, ‘The friendship of this world is enmity with God;’ not only is this true in a lower sense, as a hindrance, being backward and averse to it, but it is a direct opposition and contrariety to God and his service. Its drawing back and hindering is charge enough against it: for it [1.] withdraws those thoughts, affections, time, care, and endeavours, which should be laid out upon better things, so that holiness must needs be obstructed, dwindle, and decay by it. [2.] It hinders the influence of heaven; it shuts out the light casually, quencheth and resisteth the Spirit, and, meritoriously also, it provokes God to withdraw, to remove his glory, and to give over his striving with them; but the contrariety that it hath to all the parts of holiness is yet more: Christ notes it, Mat. vi. 24. These two masters, God and the world, are contrary in their designs, in their commands, in their natures, so that it is impossible for any man to serve them both. They both require the heart, and they both require it to contrary and incompatible services and ends. These, then, are such masters as would be domini in solidum, masters of the whole.[469] Now there cannot be two masters of one thing in that sense; neither, if there were, could the hearts of men serve these different commands, but their work would necessarily engage their affections to one only; they would either ‘love the one and hate the other, or hold to the one and despise the other.’ This very consideration, if there were no more, doth render the world a desirable instrument for Satan.

(4.) Fourthly, In all this the world hath so many cunning disguises, and plausible shifts, that it becomes thereby wonderfully serviceable to Satan. It is the perfection of wicked policy to manage wicked designs under plausible pretences. These the world hath in readiness when it is accused of rebellion and treachery against God. The pleas of necessity, of prosecution of a lawful calling, of providing for a family, of not neglecting the benefits of God, of cheering the heart, and taking the comforts of the labours of their hands, and a great many more, are ready excuses to ward off the force of the convincing word. These the devil drives home, and fastens them into such strong persuasions, that the deluded sinner cannot see the danger that is before him, nor the spiritual adultery or idolatry of his soul, in his excessive love to worldly pleasures.

(5.) Fifthly, The world hath also a spiritual fascination and witchcraft, by which, where it hath once prevailed, men are enchanted to an utter forgetfulness of themselves and God, and being drunk with pleasures, they are easily engaged to a madness and height of folly. Some, like foolish children, are made to keep a great stir in the world for very trifles, for a vain show; they think themselves great, honourable, excellent, and for this make a great bustle, when the world hath not added ‘one cubit to their stature’ of real worth. Others are by this Circe transformed into savage creatures, and act the part of lions and tigers. Others, like swine, wallow in the lusts of uncleanness. Others are unmanned, putting off all natural affections, care not who they ride over, so they may rule or be made great. Others are taken with ridiculous frenzies, so that a man that stands in the cool shade of a sedate composure would judge them out of their wits. It would make a man admire to read of the frisks of Caius Caligula, Xerxes, Alexander, and many others, who because they were above many men, thought themselves above human nature. They forgot they were born, and must die, and did such things as would have made them, but that their greatness overawed it, a laughing-stock and common scorn to children. Neither must we think that these were but some few or rare instances of worldly intoxication, when the Scripture notes it as a general distemper of all that bow down to worship this idol. They live ‘without God in the world,’ saith the apostle, [Eph. ii. 12,] that is, they so carry it as if there were no God to take notice of them, to check them for their madness. ‘God is not in all his thoughts,’ saith David, Ps. x. 4, 5. ‘The judgments of God are far above out of their sight;’ he puffs at his enemies, and saith in his heart, ‘he shall never be moved,’ &c. The whole psalm describes the worldling as a man that hath lost all understanding, and were acting the part of a frantic bedlam. What then can be a more fit engine for the devil to work with than the pleasures of the world?

Applic. I shall briefly apply this to two sorts of men, those that are straitened with want and necessities, and those whose ‘cups run over,’ having all ‘that their heart can wish.’

(1.) First, To those that think their measure of outward comforts little, I would from the doctrine now explained tell them that they have not so much cause to vex and disquiet themselves for their poverty or troubles as they apprehend. The world is not so desirable a thing as many dream. Did but men consider how great a snare it is, and what dangers attend the fulness of it, they would not so earnestly covet it, nor so passionately lament when it flies from them. If thou hast so much godliness as can quiet thy heart in a contented enjoyment of thy little, that little which thou hast is better than great riches of the wicked. Thou little knowest from what pride, insolency, contempt of God and men, and many other temptations and lusts, God doth preserve thee, by denying thee earthly things. Thou art now, it may be, often looking up to God, striving to believe his word, often examining thy heart, labouring to live upon God and his all-sufficiency, looking after the bread that endures to eternal life; when if thou hadst the temptations of plenty, it may be feared thou wouldst be another man, and be carried away to forget God, to be careless of holy walking, and so make way for bitterness and sorrow at last.

(2.) Secondly, I would also caution poor men not to enlarge their desires too much after the world, but to fear the temptations of the world. It is not only a snare to those that enjoy it, but to those that want it: for while they admire it, and engage their affections for it, it ensnares them in sinful undertakings; they are tempted to lie, cheat, dissemble, to use unlawful shifts, to rob, steal, overreach in bargaining, and to neglect the care of the soul in all. Let such call to mind, [1.] That often the providence of God doth of purpose thwart and cross the designs of such, so that though they toil and sweat, running from market to market, ‘rising early and sitting up late,’ yet he blows upon their gettings, and they wither to nothing, ‘while it is yet in their hand;’ or if they seem to keep them longer, yet all the end they make with them is but to put them into a ‘bag with holes,’ [Haggai i. 6,] they ‘perish by evil travail,’ Eccles. v. 14. [2.] They often are at a great deal of labour in pursuit, and then when the desired object is within their reach, they are overwhelmed with their disappointment, as if providence designed to mock them for their folly. This is excellently set forth, in the emblem of a man climbing up a rock, with great labour, to reach a crown that hung upon the precipice, who when he had stretched himself to grasp it, falls down and breaks his neck. [3.] And when they do by great toil rake together a heap of riches, they are starved frequently in their plenty, and so cursed that they have no more than ‘the beholding of their goods with their eyes,’ in that God denies them a ‘heart to use them,’ Eccles. v. 11. [4.] Their gettings allay not their thirst for more, ‘He that loveth silver, shall not be satisfied with silver,’ Eccles. v. 10. [5.] Often they are given as a scourge and plague; as the quails given to the Israelites ‘came out of their nostrils.’ The wise man notes it, Eccles. v. 13, ‘Riches are kept for the owners thereof to their hurt.’

(3.) Thirdly, To those that have the delights of the world, plentiful estates, full tables, beautiful houses, rich tradings, honours, and dignities, I would desire to give the greatest caution, that they take heed to themselves, because they walk in the midst of snares. They should consider, [1.] That the great God hath laid most serious charges upon them, ‘not to love the world,’ but to withdraw their affections from it, nay, to be crucified to it, as to any captivating delight, and to use it with such an indifferency of mind, that they should be in their deportments towards it as ‘if they used it not.’ [2.] They should have their danger in their eye. How careful is he of his steps that knows he walks in the midst of serpents which are ready to sting him; the thoughts of this should blunt the edge of our delights. If you were at a feast where you knew there were poisoned dishes, you would be afraid to eat anything. Do you think that Captain Smith[470] when he was taken by the savages of America, and had plenty of meat set before him, which he knew was given to fatten him that he might be better meat when he was killed, had any stomach to eat or to drink? Was that feast pleasing to him that sat under a sharp sword hung over his head in a horse hair, when he expected every moment it should fall upon him and kill him?[471] Such are great men, rich men. With what fear and care should they use these things, when they know there is hazard of mischief from them upon every occasion! How much doth Christ speak in that one sentence, ‘It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven’! [Mat. xix. 24.] He means not that it is absolutely impossible, but extremely difficult, and the difficulty lies in the hindrances which their riches casts before them. [3.] They should carefully consider for what ends God gives these, and to what use they are to be put. Rich men are but God’s pursers; they do but ‘carry the bag,’ and what is put therein, for public uses. If accordingly, as faithful stewards, they lay it out upon those that have need, they shall ‘make friends of the unrighteous mammon,’ and it will turn to a spiritual account: but if they think that all is for themselves, and so shut their bowels and purses from others, then they carry the bag no otherwise than as Judas did, and will be easily persuaded to sell Christ and heaven for a little more of earth.


CHAPTER XXII.