fons, why most men have fo little converfation with themselves. And, ift, 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 compafs, 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 must it needs be, to a man of paffion and infirmity, amidst such a crowd of objects, that are continually striking upon the fenfe, and foliciting the affections, not to be moved and interrupted by one or other of them! But, 2dly, Another reason why we fo feldom converfe with ourselves, is, because the bufiness 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, so much goeth away in fleep, fo much in the ordinary business of life, and fo much in the proper business of our callings, that we have none to lay out upon the more serious 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 fet of thoughts, defires, and inclinations, which return return upon him, in their proper time and order, and will very hardly be laid afide, to make room for any thing new and uncommon: fo that, call upon him when you please, to fet about the ftudy of his own heart, and you are sure to find him pre-engaged; either he hath some business to do, or fome diverfion to take, fome acquaintance that he must visit, or some company that he must entertain, or some cross accident hath put him out of humour, and unfitted him for fuch a grave employment. And thus it comes to pass, that a man can never find leisure to look into himself, because, he doth not fet apart fome portion of the day for that very purpofe, but foolishly deferreth it from one day to another, until his glass is almost run out, and he is called upon 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, becaufe fuch a converfation with his own heart, may discover fome vice, or fome infirmity, lurking within him, which he is very unwilling to believe himfelf 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 person he took himself to be? that he hath neither the courage, nor the honefty, 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, fofteneth and difarmeth him into ease and wantonness? that he hath been at more pains, and labour, R 2 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 spirit and fervour of devotion evaporate in a very short time, and he can fcarcely 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 discoveries, that a man may make of himself; fo that, it is no wonder, that every one, who is already flushed with a good opinion of himself, should 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 set apart fome portion of the day for that very purpofe; yet he is ftill disabled from paffing a fair and impartial judgment upon himself, by feveral diffie culties, arifing partly from prejudice and prepoffeffion, partly from the lower appetites and inclinations. And, ift, That the bufinefs of prepoffeffion may lead and betray a man into a falfe judgment of his own heart. For, we may obferve, that the first opinion we take up of any thing, or of any perfon, doth generally stick close to us; the nature of the mind being fuch, that it cannot but defire, and, confequently, endeavour, to have fome certain principles to go upon, fomething fixed and immoveable, whereon it may reft and fupport it felf. felf. And hence it cometh to pass, that fome perfons are, with so much difficulty, brought to think well of a man, they have once entertained an ill opinion of; and, perhaps, that, too, for a very abfurd and unwarrantable reafon. But, how much more difficult, then, must it be, for a man who taketh up a fond opinion of his own heart, long before he hath either years, or fenfe enough, to understand it, either to be perfuaded out of it by himself, whom he loveth fo well, or by another, whose interest or diversion it may be, to make him afhamed of himself? Then, 2dly, As to the difficulties arifing from the inferior appetites and inclinations, let any man look into his own heart, and observe, in how different a light, and under what different complexions, any two fins, of equal turpitude and malignity, do appear to him, if he hath but a strong inclination to the one, and none at all to the other. That which he hath an inclination to, is always dreffed up in all the falfe beauty that a fond and bufy imagination can give it; the other appeareth naked and deformed, and in all the true circumftances of folly and difhonour. Thus, ftealing is a vice that few gentlemen are inclined to; and they justly think it below the dignity of a man, to stoop to fo bafe and low a fin: but no principle of honour, no workings of the mind and confcience, not the ftill voice of mercy, not the dreadful call of judgment, nor any confiderations whatever, can put a stop to that violence and oppreffion, that pride and ambition, that reR 3 velling velling and wantonness, which we every day meet with in the world. Nay, it is easy to obferve very different thoughts in a man, of the fin that he is moft fond of, according to the different ebbs and flows of his inclination to it. For, as foon as the appetite is alarmed, and seizeth upon the heart, a little cloud gathereth about the head, and spreadeth a kind of darkness over the face of the foul, whereby it is hindered from taking a clear and diftinct view of things: but, no fooner is the appetite tired and fatiated, but the fame cloud paffeth away like a fhadow; and, a new light springing up in the mind, of a fudden, the man feeth much more, both of the folly and of the danger of the fin, than he did before. And thus, having done with the feveral reafons, why man, the only creature in the world that can reflect and look into himfelf, is fo very ignorant of what paffeth within him, and fo much unacquainted with the ftanding difpofitions and complexions of his own heart; I proceed now, in the III. Third and laft place, to lay down feveral advantages that do most affuredly attend a due improvement in the knowledge of ourfelves. And, 1. One great advantage is, that it tendeth very much to mortify and humble a man into a modeft and low opinion of himfelf. For, let a man take a nice and curious inspection into all the several regions of the heart, and obferve every thing ir regular |