THE right way therefore to fill your heart with true contrition, and a deep fenfe of your own fins, is this: You are not to confider, or compare the outward form or courfe of your life, with that of other people's, and then think your felf to be lefs finful than they, because the outward course of your life is lefs finful than theirs. BUT in order to know your own guilt, you must confider your own particular circumftances, your health, your ficknefs, your youth, or age, your particular calling, the nappiness of your education, the degrees of light and inftruction that you have receiv'd, the good men that you have convers'd with, the admonitions that you have had, the good books that you have read, the numberless multitude of divine blessings, graces, and favours, that you have receiv'd, the good motions of grace that you have refifted, the refolutions of amendment that you have often broken, and the checks of conscience that you have difregarded.

FOR it is from these circumftances, that every one is to ftate the measure and greatness of his own guilt, And as you know only thefe circumftances of your own fins, fo you must neceffarily know how to charge your felf with higher degrees of guilt, than you can charge upon other people.

GOD Almighty knows greater finners it may be, than you are; because he fees and knows the circum ftances of all mens fins: But your own heart, if it is faithful to you, can discover no guilt fo great as your own; because it can only fee in you thofe circumftances, on which great part of the guilt of fin is founded.

You may fee fins in other people, that you cannot charge upon your felf; but then you know a number of circumftances of your own guilt, that you cannot lay to their charge.

AND perhaps that person that appears at such a diftance from your virtue, and fo odious in your eyes, would have been much better than you are, had he been altogether in your circumftances, and received all the fame favours and graces from God that you have.

THIS

THIS is a very humbling reflection, and very proper for thofe people to make, who measure their virtue, by comparing the outward courfe of their lives with that of other people's.

FOR look at whom you will, however different from you in his way of life, yet you can never know that he has refifted fo much divine grace as you have; or that in all your circumftances, he would not have been much truer to his duty than you are.

Now this is the reafon why I defir'd you to confider, how you would exhort that man to confefs and bewail his fins, whom you look'd upon to be one of the greatest finners.

BECAUSE if you will deal juftly, you must fix the charge at home, and look no farther than your felf. For. God has given no one any power of knowing the true greatness of any fins, but his own: and therefore the greateft finner that every one knows, is himself.

You may eafily fee how fuch a one in the outward courfe of his life breaks the laws of God; but then you can never fay, that had you been exactly in all his circumftances, that you fhould not have broken them more than he has done.

A SERIOUS and frequent reflection upon thefe things, will mightily tend to humble us in our own eyes, make us very apprehenfive of the greatnefs of our own guilt, and very tender in cenfuring and condemning other people.

FOR who would dare to be fevere against other people, when, for ought he can tell, the feverity of God may be more due to him, than to them? Who would exclaim against the guilt of others, when he confiders that he knows more of the greatnefs of his own guilt, than he does of theirs?

How often you have refifted God's holy Spirit; how many motives to goodness you have difregarded; how many particular bleffings you have finn'd againft; how many good refolutions you have broken; how many checks and admonitions of confcience you have ftifled,

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you

you very well know: But how often this has been the cafe of other finners, you know not. And therefore the greatest finner that you know, must be yourself.

WHENEVER therefore you are angry at fin or finners, whenever you read or think of God's indignation and wrath at wicked men, let this teach you to be the most severe in your cenfure, and most humble and contrite in the acknowledgment and confeffion of your own fins, because you know of no finner equal to yourself.

Laftly, to conclude this chapter: Having thus examin'd and confefs'd your fins at this hour of the evening, you must afterwards look upon yourself, as ftill oblig'd to betake yourself to prayer again just before you go to

bed.

THE fubject that is most proper for your prayers at that time, is death. Let your prayers therefore then be wholly upon it, reckoning up all the dangers, uncertainties, and terrors of death; let them contain every thing that can affect and awaken your mind into juft apprehenfions of it. Let your petitions be all for right fentiments of the approach and importance of death; and beg of God, that your mind may be pof fefs'd with fuch a fenfe of its nearness, that you may have it always in your thoughts, do every thing as in fight of it, and make every day, a day for preparation for it.

REPRESENT to your imagination, that your bed is your grave; that all things are ready for your interment; that you are to have no more to do with this world; and that it will be owing to God's great mercy, if you ever fee the light of the Sun again, or have another day to add to your works of piety.

AND then commit your felf to fleep, as into the hands of God; as one that is to have no more opportunities of doing good; but is to awake amongit fpirits that are feparate from the body, and waiting for the judgment of the last great day.

SUCH a folemn refignation of your felf into the hands

hands of God every evening, and parting with all the world, as if you was never to fee it any more, and all this in the filence and darkness of the night, is a practice that will foon have excellent effects upon your fpi

rit.

FOR this time of the night is exceeding proper for fuch prayers and meditations; and the likenefs which fleep and darkness have to death, will contribute very much to make your thoughts about it the more deep and affecting. So that I hope you will not let a time, fo proper for fuch prayers, be ever pafs'd over without

them.

CHA P. XXIV.

The Conclufion. Of the Excellency and Greatness of a devout Spirit.

I

HAVE now finish'd what I intended in this Treatife. I have explain'd the nature of devotion, both as it fignifies a life devoted to God, and as it fignifies a regular method of daily prayer. I have now only to add a word or two in recommendation of a life governed by this fpirit of devotion.

FOR though it is as reasonable to fuppofe it the defire of all Chriftians to arrive at Chriftian Perfection, as to fuppofe, that all fick men defire to be reftor'd to perfect health; yet experience fhews us, that nothing. wants more to be prefs'd, repeated, and forc'd upon our minds, than the plaineft rules of Christianity.

Voluntary poverty, virginity, and devout retirement, have been here recommended, as things not neceffary, yet highly beneficial to thofe that would make the way to perfection the moft eafy and certain. But Chriftian perfection itself is ty'd to no particular form of life; but is to be attained, tho' not with the fame ease, in every ftate of life.

THIS has been fully afferted in another place;
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where

where it has been fhewn that Christian perfection calls no one (neceffarily) to a clofter, but to the full performance of thofe duties, which are neceffury for all Chriftians, and common to all fates of life. Chrift. Perfect.

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So that the whole of the matter is plainly this: Virginity, voluntary poverty, and fuch other reftraints of lawful things, are not neceflary to Chriftian perfection; but are much to be commended in thofe, who chufe them as helps and means of a more fafe and Speedy arrival at it.

It is only in this manner, and in this fenfe, that I would recommend any particularity of life; not as if perfection confifted in it, but because of its great tendency to produce and fupport the true fpirit of Chriftian perfection.

BUT the thing which is here prefs'd upon all, is, a life of great and strict devotion; which, I think, has been fufficiently fhewn to be equally the duty and happinefs of all orders of men. Neither is there any thing in any particular state of life, that can be juftly pleaded as a reafon for any abatements of a devout fpirit.

But becaufe in this polite age of ours, we have fo hv'd away the fpirit of devotion, that many seem afraid even to be fufpected of it, imagining great de-votion to be great bigottry; that is founded in ignorance and poornes of fpirit, and that little, weak, and dejected minds, are generally the greatest proficients init:

IT fhall here be fully fhewn, that great devotion is the nobleft temper of the greateft and nobleft fouls; and that they who think it receives any advantage from ignorance and poornefs of fpirit, are themselves not a little, but entirely ignorant of the nature of devotion, the nature of God, and the nature of themselves.

PEOPLE of fine parts and learning, or of great knowledge in worldy matters, may perhaps think it hard to have their want of devotion charged upon their ignorance. But if they will be content to be try'd by

reafon