tears; or a man may perhaps weep at parting with his fins, as he would to bid the laft farewel to an old friend, that he was fure never to fee again.

BUT there is still a more pleafant cheat in this affair, that when we find a deadness, and a strange kind of unaptness and indifpofition to all impreffions of religion, and that we cannot be as truly forry for our fins as we fhould be, we then pretend to be forry that we are not more forry for them; which is not lefs abfurd and irrational, than that a man fhould pretend to be very angry at a thing, because he did not know how to be angry at all.

BUT after all, what is wanting in this part of repentance, we expect to make it up in the next; and to that purpose we put on a refolution of amendment, which we take to be as firm as a house built upon a rock; fo that let the floods arife, and the winds blow, and the ftreams beat vehemently upon it, nothing shall shake it into ruin and diforder. We doubt not, upon the strength of this refolve, to ftand fast and unmoved amidst the form of a temptation; and do firmly believe, at the time we make it, that nothing in the world will ever be able to make us commit thofe fins over again, which we have fo firmly resolved against.

THUS many a time have we come to the facrament of the Lord's fupper, with a full purpose of amendment, and with as full a perfuafion of putting that fame purpofe into practice; and yet have we not all as often broke that good purpose, and falfified that fame perfuafion, by ftarting afide, like a broken bow, into thofe very fins which we then fo folemnly and fo confidently declared againft?

WHEREAS, had but any other person entered with us into a vow fo folemn, that he had taken the holy facra. ment upon it, I believe, had he but once deceived us by breaking in upon the vow, we should hardly ever after be prevailed upon to truft that man again, altho' we ftill continue to truft our own hearts, against reason and against experience.

THIS indeed is a dangerous deceit enough; and will of course betray all thofe well-meaning perfons into fin and folly, who are apt to take religion for a much easier

thing

thing than it is. But this is not the only mistake we are apt to run into: we do not only think fometimes that we can do more than we can do, but fometimes that we are incapable of doing lefs: an error of another kind indeed, but not lefs dangerous, arifing from a diffidence and falfe humility; for how much a wicked man can do in the bufinefs of religion, if he would but do his beft, is very often more than he can

tell.

THUS nothing is more common, than to fee a wicked man running headlong into fin and folly, against his reafon, against his religion, and against his God. Tell him, that what he is going to do will be an infinite difparagement to his understanding, which at another time he fetteth no fmall value upon; tell him, that it will blacken his reputation, which he had rather die for. than lofe; tell him, that the pleasure of the fin is fhort and tranfi, ent, and leaveth a vexatious kind of a fting behind it, which will very hardly be drawn forth; tell him, that this is one of thofe things for which God will moft furely bring him to judgment, which he pretendeth to believe with a full affurance and perfuafion; and yet, for all this, he fhutteth his eyes against all conviction, and rufheth into the fin, like a horfe into the battle; as if he had nothing left to do, but, like a filly child, to wink hard, and to think to escape a certain and an infinite mifchief, only by endeavouring not to fee it.

AND now to shew that the heart hath given in a false report of the temptation, we may learn from this, that the fame weak man would refift and mafter the fame powerful temptation, upon confiderations of infinitely lefs value than those which religion offereth, nay, fuch vile confiderations, that the grace of God cannot, without blafphemy, be fuppofed to add any manner of force and efficacy to them.. Thus, for inftance, it would be an hard matter to dress up a fin in fuch foft and tempt ing circumftances, that a truly covetous man would not refift for a confiderable fum of money; when neither the hopes of heaven nor the fears of hell could make an impreffion upon him before. But can any thing be a furer indication of the deceitfulnefs of the heart,. than thus to fhew more courage, refolution, and activity, in

an

an ill cause, than it doth in a good one? and to exert it felf to better purpose, when it is to ferve its own pride, or luft, or revenge, or any other paffion, than when it is to ferve God upon the motives of the gofpel, and upon all the arguments that have ever been made use of to bring men over to religion and a good life? And thus having fhewn that a man is wonderfully apt to deceive and impofe upon himself, in paffing through the feveral stages of that great duty, repentance, I proceed now, in the

II. SECOND place, To inquire into the grounds and reafons of this ignorance, and to fhew whence it cometh to pass, that a man, the only creature in the world that can reflect and look into himself, fhould know fo little of what paffeth within him, and be fo very much unac quainted even with the ftanding difpofitions and completion of his own heart. The prime reafon of it is, because we fo very feldom converfe with ourselves, and take fo little notice of what paffeth within us. For a man can no more know his own heart than he can know his own

face, any other way than by reflection: he may as well tell over every feature of the fmaller portions of his face without the help of a looking-glafs, as he can tell all the inward bents and tendencies of the foul, thofe ftanding features and lineaments of the inward man, and know all the various changes that this is liable to, from custom, from paffion, and from opinion, without a very frequent ufe of looking within himself.

FOR Our paffions and inclinations are not always upon the wing, and always moving towards their respective objects; but retire now and then into the more dark and hidden receffes of the heart, where they lie concealed for a while, until a fresh occafion calls them forth again: fo that not every tranfient, oblique glance upon the mind, can bring a man into a thorough knowledge of all its ftrengths and weakneffes; for a man may fometimes turn the eye of the mind inward upon itself, as he may behold his natural face in a glafs, and go away, and ftraight forget what manner of man he was. man must rather fit down, and unravel every action of the past day into all its circumftances and particularities,

But a

and

and obferve how every little thing moved and affected him, and what manner of impreffion it made upon his heart: this done with that frequency and carefulness which the importance of the duty doth require, would in a short time bring him into a near and intimate acquaintance with himself.

But when men, instead of this, do pafs away months and years in a perfect flumber of the mind, without once awaking it, it is no wonder they should be so very ignorant of themselves, and know very little more of what paffeth within them, than the very beafts which perifh. But here it may not be amifs to inquire into the reasons why most men have fo little conversation with themselves.

AND, 1, Because this reflection is a work and labour of the mind, and cannot be performed without fome pain and difficulty. For before a man can reflect upon himself, and look into his heart with a steady eye, he muft contract his fight, and collect all his fcattered and roving thoughts into fome order and compass, that he; may be able to take a clear and diftinct view of them; he muft retire from the world for a while, and be unattentive to all impreffions of fenfe: and how hard and painful a thing muft it needs be to a man of paffion and infirmity, amidst such a croud of objects that are continually ftriking upon the fenfes, and foliciting the affections, not to be moved and interrupted by one or other of them! But,

2dly, Another reason why we so seldom converse with ourselves, is, because the bufinefs of the world taketh up all our time, and leaveth us no portion of it to spend upon this great work and labour of the mind. Thus twelve or fourteen years pafs away before we can well difcern good from evil; and of the reft fo much goeth away in fleep, fo much in the ordinary business of life, and fo much in the proper bufinefs of our callings, that we have none to lay out upon the more ferious and religious employments. Every man's life is an imperfect fort of a circle, which he repeateth and runneth over every day; he hath a set of thoughts, defires, and inclinations, which return upon him in their proper time and order, and will very hardly be laid afide to make room

for

for any thing new and uncommon: fo that call upon him when you please, to fet about the study of his own heart, and you are fure to find him pre-engaged; either he hath fome business to do, or fome diverfion to take, fome acquaintance that he must vifit, or fome company that he must entertain, or fome crofs accident hath put him out of humour, and unfitted him for fuch a grave employment. And thus it comes to pafs, that a man can never find leifure to look into himself, because he doth not set apart fome portion of the day for that very purpose, but foolishly deferreth it from one day to another, until his glass is almost run out, and he is called upón to give a miferable account of himself in the other world. But,

3dly, Another reason why a man doth not more frequently converfe with himself, is, because such a converfation with his own heart may discover fome vice or fome infirmity lurking within him, which he is very unwilling to believe himself guilty of. For can there be a more ungrateful thing to a man, than to find, that, upon a nearer view, he is not that perfon he took himfelf to be that he hath neither the courage, nor the honesty, nor the piety, nor the humility, that he dreamed he had? that a very little pain, for inftance, putteth him out of patience, and as little pleasure softeneth and difarmeth him into eafe and wantonnefs? that he hath been at more pains, and labour, and coft, to be revenged of an enemy, than to oblige the best friend he hath in the world? that he cannot bring himself to fay his prayers without a great deal of reluctancy; and when he doth fay them, the fpirit and fervour of devotion evaporate in a very fhort time, and he can scarcely hold out a prayer of ten lines, without a number of idle and impertinent, if not vain and wicked thoughts coming into his head? These are very unwelcome difcoveries that a man may make of himself; so that it is no wonder that every one who is already flushed with a good opinion of himself, fhould rather study how to run away from it, than how to converfe with his own

heart.

BUT further, If a man were both able and willing to retire into his own heart, and to fet apart fome portion

of