head, and seriously think who holds the reins? who keeps the breath yet in thy nostrils, and continueth thee in life? and where it is that thou must shortly fix thy unchangeable abode; and what is now to be done in preparation for such a day: 'Os homini sublime dedit, &c.' Thou wouldst know that thou hadst not that reason, and that will and executive power, to roll in the earth, and be but a cunning kind of beast, that hath wit to play the fool, and can ingeniously live below understanding, and do that with argument which other brutes can do without it. Thou wouldst know that thy higher faculties were not made to serve the lower: thy reason to serve thy sensual delights. The horse was not made to ride the man, nor the master to follow and attend the dog. O man! hadst thou not lost the knowledge of thyself, thou wouldst be so far from wondering at a holy life, that thou wouldst look upon an unholy person as a monster, and wouldst hear the deriders and opposers of a holy life, as thou wouldst hear him that were deriding a man because he is not a swine, or were reproaching men of honour and learning, because they live not as an ass.

I confess, my soul is too apt to lose its lively sense of all these things; but whenever it is awake, I am forced to say, in these kind of meditations, If I had not a God to know and think on, to love and honour, to seek and serve, what had I to do with my understanding, will, and all my powers? What should I do with life and time? What use should I make of God's provisions? What could I find to do in the world, that is worthy of a man? Were it not as good lie still, and sleep out my days, and professedly do nothing, as to go dreaming with a seeming seriousness, and wander about the world as in my sleep, and do nothing with such a troublesome stir, as sensual, worldly persons do? Could not I have played the beast without a reasonable free-working soul? Let them turn from God, and neglect the conduct of the Redeemer, and disregard the holy approaches, and breathings, and workings of the soul towards its beloved centre and felicity, that know not what an immortal soul is, or know how else to employ their faculties, with satisfaction or content unto themselves. I profess here, as in his presence that is the Father of spirits, and before angels and men, I do not, I know not what else to do with my soul that is worth the doing, but what is subservient to its proper object, its end

and everlasting rest. If the holy service of God, and the preparation for heaven, and making after Christ and happiness, be forbidden me, I have no more to do in the world, that will satisfy my reason, or satisfy my affections, or that as a man or a Christian I can own. And it is as good not live, as to be deprived of the uses and ends of life. Though my love and desires are infinitely below the Eternal goodness, and glory, which they should prosecute and embrace, yet do my little tastes and dull desires, and cold affections consent unfeignedly to say, Let me have God or nothing: Let me know him and his will, and what will please him, and how I may enjoy him: or, O that I never had an understanding to know any thing! Let me remember him; or, O that I had never had a memory! Let me love him and be beloved of him; or, O that I never had such a thing as love within me! Let me hear his teachings, or have no ears: Let me serve him with my riches, or let me have none; and with any interest or honour, or let me be despised. It is nothing that he gives not being to and it is useless that is not for his glory and his will. If God have nothing to do with me, I have nothing to do with myself, and the world hath nothing to do with me.

Let dark, and dreaming, doating sinners, declare their shame, and speak evil of what they never knew, and neglect the good they never saw; let them that know not themselves or God, refuse to give up themselves to God, and think a life of sensuality more suitable to them. But "Lord lift thou up the light of thy countenance on me," (Psal. iv,) and let me no longer be a man, nor have reason, or any of thy talents in my trust, than I shall be thine, and live to thee. I say as Bernard, Dignus plane est morte, qui tibi Christe recusat vivere; et qui tibi non sapit, desipit; et qui curat esse nisi propter te, pro nihilo est et nihil est. Propter teipsum Deus fecisti omnia; et qui esse vult sibi, et non tibi, nil esse incipit inter omnia.' Worthy is that man, O Christ to die, that refuseth to live to thee: and he that is not wise to thee, is but a fool; and he that careth to be unless it be for thee, is good for nothing, and is nothing. For thyself, O God, hast thou made all things; and he that would be to himself and not to thee, among all things beginneth to be nothing.

5. If you know not yourselves, you know not how to

apply the word of God, which you read or hear; you know not how to use either promises or threatenings, to the benefit of your souls: nay, you will misapply them to your hurt. If you are unregenerate, and know it not, you will put by all the calls of God, that invite you to come in and be converted, and think that they belong to grosser sinners, but not to you. All the descriptions of the unsanctified and their misery, will little affect you; and all God's threatenings to such will little move you; for you will think they are not meant of you; you will be pharisaically blessing yourselves, when you should be pricked at the heart, and laid in contrition at the feet of Christ: you will be thanking God that you are not such as indeed you are; you will be making application of the threatenings to others, and pitying them when you should lament yourselves; you will be thundering when you should be trembling; and speaking that evil of others that is your own; and convincing others of that which you had need to be convinced of; and wakening others by talking in your sleep; and calling other men hypocrites, proud, self-conceited, ignorant, and other such names that are indeed your own; you will read or hear your own condemnation, and not be moved at it, as not knowing your own description when you hear it, but thinking that this thunderbolt is levelled at another sort of men. All the words of peace and comfort, you will think are meant of such as you. When you read of pardon, reconciliation, adoption, and right to everlasting life, you will imagine that all these are yours. And thus you will be dreaming-rich and safe, when you are poor and miserable, and in the greatest peril. And is it not pity that the celestial, undeceiving light should be abused to so dangerous self-deceit? And that truth itself should be made the furtherance of so great an error? And that the eyesalve should more put out your eyes? Is it not sad to consider, that you should now be emboldened to presumption, by that very word which (unless you be converted) will judge you to damnation? And that selfdeceit should be increased by the glass of verity that should undeceive you?

How can you know what promise or threatening doth belong to you, while you know not what state your souls are in. Can you tell what physic to take, till your disease be known? Or choose your plaister till you know your sore?

6. If you know not yourselves, you know not how to confess or pray. This makes men confess their sins so seldom, and with so little remorse to God and man; you hide them because they are hidden from yourselves; and therefore God will open them to your shame: whereas if they were opened to you, they would be opened by you, and covered by God. Saith Augustine Non operui, sed aperui ut operires; non cælavi, ut tegeres: nam quando homo detegit, Deus tegit. Cum homo cælat, Deus nudat: cum homo agnoscit, Deus ignoscit.' I did not cover, but open that thou mayest cover: I concealed not, that thou mightest hide. For when man discloseth, God covereth: when man hideth, God maketh bare: when man confesseth, God forgiveth. For want of selfacquaintance it is that men hypocritically confess to God in way of custom, the sins which they will deny or excuse to man; and will tell God formally of much, which they cannot endure to be told of seriously by a reprover: or, if they confess it generally with a seeming humility to others, they cannot bear that another should faithfully charge it upon them, in order to their true humiliation and amendment. • Indicia veræ confessionis sunt, si ut unusquisque se peccatorem dicit, id de se dicenti alteri non contradicat. Nam non peccator sed justus videri appetit, cum peccatorem se quisque nullo arguente confitetur; superbiæ quippe vitium est, ut quod de se fateri quis sua sponte dignatur, hoc sibi dici ab aliis dedignetur,' saith Bernard. It is the sign of true confession, if, as every one saith he is a sinner, he contradict not another that saith it of him. For he desireth not to seem a sinner, but righteous, when one confesseth himself a sinner when none reproveth him. It is the vice of pride, for a man to disdain to have that spoken to him of others, which he stuck not to confess of his own accord concerning himself.

And for prayer, it is men's ignorance of themselves that makes prayer so little in request: hunger best teacheth men to beg. You would be oftener on your knees, if you were oftener in your hearts. Prayer would not seem needless, if you knew your needs. Know yourselves, and be prayerless if you can. When the prodigal was convinced, he presently purposeth to confess and pray. When Paul was converted, Ananias hath this evidence of it from God, "Behold he prayeth." (Acts ix. 11.) Indeed the inward

part of prayer, is the motion of a returning soul to God: Saith Hugo, 'Oratio est piæ mentis et humilis ad Deum conversio, fide, spe, et charitate subnixa.' Prayer is the turning of a pious, humble soul to God, leaning upon faith, hope and love. It is Oranti subsidium, Deo sacrificium, dæmonibus flagellum.' The relief of the petitioner, the sacrifice of God, the scourge of devils.

And self-knowledge would teach men how to pray. Your own hearts would be the best prayer-books to you, if you were skilful in reading them. Did you see what sin is, and in what relation you stand to God, to heaven and hell, it would drive you above your beads and lifeless words of course, and make you know, that to pray to God for pardon and salvation, is not a work for a sleepy soul. Saith Gregory, 'Ille Deo veram orationem exhibit qui semetipsum cognoscit, quia pulvis sit; humiliter videt, qui nihil sibi virtutis tribuit,' &c. He offereth the truest prayer to God, that knoweth himself, that humbly seeth he is but dust, and ascribeth not virtue to himself, &c. Nothing quencheth prayer more than to be mistaken or mindless about ourselves. When we go from home this fire goes out; but when we return, and search our hearts, and see the sins, the wants, the weaknesses that are there, and perceive the danger that is before us, and withal the glorious hopes that are offered us, here is fuel and bellows to inflame the soul, and cure it of its drowsiness and dumbness. Help any sinner to a clearer light, to see into his heart and life, and to a livelier sense of his own condition, and I warrant you he will be more disposed to fervent prayer, and will better understand the meaning of those words, "That men ought always to pray and not to faint;" (Luke xviii. 1 ;) and "Pray without ceasing." (1 Thess. v. 17.) You may hear some impious persons now disputing against frequent and fervent prayer, and saying, 'What need all this ado?' But if you were able to open these men's eyes, and shew them what is within them and before them, you would quickly answer all their arguments, and convince them better than words can do, and put an end to the dispute. You would set all the prayerless families in town and country, gentlemen's and poor men's, on fervent calling upon God, if you could but help them to such a sight of their sin and danger, as shortly the stoutest of them must have. Why do they pray, and call