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And that alone hath overthrown,
And utterly undone us.
Not we, but he ate of the tree,
Whose fruit was interdicted:
The punishment 's inflicted.
Or how is his sin our
We never had a power?
O great Creator, why was our nature
Depraved and forlorn?
Whilst we were yet unborn ?
Transgressors reckond be, Thy mercy, Lord, to us afford,
Which sinners hath set free.
Behold we see Adam set free,
And say'd from his trespass, Whose sinful fall hath split us all,
And brought us to this pass.
Or grace to us to tender,
That was the chief offender"
Then answered the judge most dread,
“God doth such doom forbid, That men should die eternally
For what they never did.
And only his trespass,
Both his and yours it was.
He was design'd of all mankind
To be a public head, A common root, whence all should shoot,
And stood in all their stead.
Not for himself alone,
And trespass would disown.
If he had stood, then all his brood
Had been established
Nor once awry to tread:
Should have enjoy'd for ever,
Could then have harmed never.
you have griev'd to have receiv'd Through Adam so much good, And had been
for evermore, If he at first had stood ? Would
have said, “we ne'er obey'd, Nor did thy laws regard ; It ill befits with benefits,
Us, Lord, so to reward.'
Since then to share in his welfare,
You could have been content,
And in the punishment.
Had thus yourselves behav’d.
You think, “if we had been as he,
Whom God did so betrust,
All for a paltry lust.'
been made in Adam's stead, You would like things have wrought, And so into the selfsame wo,
Yourselves and yours have brought.
I may deny you once to try,
Or grace to you to tender,
Who was the chief offender:
For it should not be free,
I have no liberty.
If upon one what's due to none
I frankly shall bestow,
And on the rest shall not think best,
Compassion's skirts to throw, Whom injure I? will you envy,
And grudge at others weal? Or me accuse, who do refuse
Yourselves to help and heal.
Am I alone for what's my own,
No master or no Lord?
What I to some afford ?
And challenge what is mine?
And thus my grace confine ?
You sinners are, and such a share
As sinners may expect,
None but my own elect.
Who liy'd a longer time,
Though every sin's a crime.
A crime it is, therefore in bliss
You may not hope to dwell
The easiest room in hell.”
They cease, and plead no longer:
His reasons are the stronger.
Thus all men's pleas the judge with ease
Doth answer and confute.
Are silenced and mute.
Sinners have nought to say, But that 'tis just, and equal most
They should be damn’d for aye.
Now what remains, but that to pains
And everlasting smart,
Which is their just desert;
Oh rueful plights of sinful wights!
Oh wretches all forlorn:
The sun, or not been born.
The saints behold with courage bold,
And thankful wonderment,
Thus sent to punishment:
A song of endless praise:
That just are all his ways.
Thus with great joy and melody
To heaven they all ascend,
And hymns that never end.
And nought shall them annoy:
And whom they love enjoy.
BENJAMIN COLMAN was born in Boston, October 19, 1767, and was the companion of Cotton Mather at the celebrated school of Ezekiel Cheever.* He was admitted into Harvard College in 1688, and after receiving his degree of Bachelor of
* Cheever died in 1708, at the age of ninetyfour, beloved and honored by all who knew him. Mather wrote an elegy on his death, which runs in this manner;
A mighty tribe of well instructed youth,
But ah is all they use, wo, and alas!
Arts commenced the study of Theology. In July 1695, he embarked for London, with the intention of qualifying himself for his profession by an observation of men and manners in a wider sphere of action than the thinly settled and almost desolate Colonies of New England. He embarked on board “ the good ship Swan,” but in a few days she was found to be in a leaky condition, and the voyage was consequently prolonged to an unusual extent. Seven weeks had elapsed before the passengers could with safety indulge in the hope of a speedy relief from the tediousness of their situation, when an incident occurred which dimmed their brightest hopes. It was a fine morning in the early part of September; the breeze was just strong enough to allow all sail to be set to advantage, and the wearied inmates of the cabin, as they came on deck and received an answer in the affirmative to their often rep ed inquiry whether the wind was fair, were gaily congratulating each other on the prospect of a quick passage to the desired haven. In a few minutes the
cry, a sail,” was heard, and far on the weather quarter a white spot could be seen, which before noon proved to be a light and fleet vessel bearing down upon the Swan with every yard of canvass extended. She was supposed to be a French privateer, and after the female passengers had been assisted to a place of security, the necessary arrangements were made for her reception.
There was a young man on board the English vessel who had often taken great pains to annoy his companions in the cabin by his malicious and atheistical sallies of wit. Before a gun was fired he informed Mr Colman, who was equipping himself with a musket and ammunition, that the passengers were seeking refuge below. “Sir," was the reply, “ I shall use my poor endeavors in protecting this ship from the enemy.” The other was so much abashed, and his shame so far surmounted his cowardice, that he determined to join in the fight. At the first discharge of small arms, however, he fell upon the deck, completely overcome by fear, and remained there till the Frenchman fell astern for a few moments to repair damages, when he lifted up his head and inquired “where is the