This Fable applies it self to Those that Promise more in their Adversity
than they either Intend, or are able to make good in their Prosperity;
but they must not think to bring themselves off at last with a Conceit;
for in the Sight of God, an Equivocating Juggling Sham, is as much as a
Gross, Downright Lye.
’Tis the Practice of the World for People in Distress to serve God and
Man in Several Respects, both Alike: That is to say, when they lie
under any Heavy Affliction, or Propose to themselves any Considerable
Advantage, and find they have Need of Anothers Help; how do they Beg,
Vow, Promise, Sollicite, Swear, Sign and Seal, and yet Conscious to
Themselves all this while, that they neither Intend, nor are able to make
One Article Good? Wickedness comes on by Degrees, as well as Virtue;
and Sudden Leaps from one Extream to Another, are Unnatural Motions in
the Course of our Lives and Humours. Here’s first a Rash and a Knavish
Promise; for the Promiser knew he was not able to make it Good. When he
has broken the Ice, he Advances, from Cozening of God, to make Sport with
him, and pays him with Paste for Flesh: But Vengeance Overtook him in the
Conclusion, and gave him to Understand, that _God will not be Mocked_.
The Moral of This Sick Man, is the Case of Every Soul of us in the Making
and the Breaking of our Vows.