did affright them, yet being scared by beasts that passed by, and hissing of serpents, they died for fear; refusing to look upon the air, which on no side could be avoided. For wickedness," (as he concludes), "condemned by its own witness, is very timorous; and being pressed with conscience, always forecasteth grievous things!"

I know it will be said, that though this be often, yet it is not always the case; since we have now and then instances of men, who lead very flagitious lives, and yet feel not any of these qualms or guirds of conscience; but do, in all appearance, live easily, and sometimes even die calmly. Which could not be, say the objectors, if the principle of conscience, and the condemning power of it were natural to man; for it would then act like other natural principles, universally, and without exception. Having hitherto therefore illustrated this truth by observations drawn from Scripture, reason, and experience; I now proceed on my

II. Second general head, to account for this difficulty, which attends the proof of it. In order to it,

1. I observe, that we are deceived often in the judgments we pass on such occasions. In our common intercourse with the world, we see only the outside and surface, as it were, of men's actions, but cannot tell how it is with them inwardly and at the bottom. We frame our opinions of them from what passes in conversation and public places, where they may be upon their guard, acting a part, and studying appearances. The hypocrite in perfection will put on the mask so artificially, that it shall seem to be real and natural. Decency, and a desire of esteem, shall enable men to cover great passions and frailties, which, nevertheless, sit very close to them, and, as soon as those restraints are taken off, break out with freedom. We have read of those who have been endued with such a constancy and firmness of temper, as even to endure the rack, and to appear composed under the pains of it, without owning their crime, or declaring their accomplices. And

in like manner, the torments of a guilty conscience may sometimes be borne and dissembled. I observe,

2. That the disorders and reprehensions of conscience are not a continued, but an intermitting disease; returning upon the mind by fits, and at particular seasons only; in the intervals of which the patient shall have seeming health, and real ease. The eruptions of burning mountains are not perpetual, nor doth even the smoke itself ascend always from the tops of them; but though the seeds of fire lodged in their caverns may be stifled and suppressed for a time, yet anon they gather strength, and break out again, with a rage great in proportion to its discontinuance. It is by accidents and occasions chiefly that the power of this principle is called forth into act; by a sudden ill turn of fortune, or a fit of sickness, or our observation of some remarkable instance of divine vengeance, which hath overtaken other men. in like cases. Even Herod was not always under the paroxysm described in the text, but surprised into it unawares, by his hearing of the fame of Jesus; and then his heart smote him at the remembrance of the inhuman treatment he had given to such another just and good person, and filled his mind anew with forgotten horrors. We cannot therefore, from a present calm of thought, know, either how it hath been with a man heretofore, or how it shall be with him hereafter but may easily in such cases, and do often judge wrong judgment; saying, Peace, peace, where there is no peace, but a truce only; and where it will appear that there was none, whenever affliction ruffles a man's soul, or a death-bed rouzes him :

Veræ tum voces pectore ab ima

Erumpunt, atque eripitur persona, manet res :

Then, and sometimes not till then, all masks and disguises are thrown off, and the mind appears naked and unguarded to itself and others.

Ask those who attend the sick, and help to prepare them for their passage into another world; ask them, I

say, and they will tell you how many instances they have met with of men, who seem to have been given up to a spirit of insensibility and slumber, and have accordingly slept on for a long time and taken their rest; and yet have, in their last moments, been all at once sufficiently awakened: What inexpressible agonies and horrors they have found upon the minds of dying despairing sinners, who thought themselves secure against such attacks, and believed that the clamorous principle within them was wholly silenced; but upon the near prospect of another world, and which made no impression on them at a distance, have changed their sentiments, and dropped their false confidence; have seen their guilt, and dreaded their danger, when it was too late perhaps to think of deploring the one, or escaping the other.

After all, it must be owned,

3. That there are now and then instances of men who have gone through even this last trial unshaken; and, after leading very dissolute lives, have yet died hard, as the phrase is, without any seeming concern for what was past, or dread of what was to follow. Whenever such an effect happens, it is owing to one or more of these causes; either to ill principles early and deeply imbibed, or to a certain obstinacy and sullenness. of temper peculiar to some men; or lastly, either to a natural or acquired stupidity. If a man begins betimes with himself, and takes pains to vitiate his mind with lewd principles, and lives long in the profession of them, he may at last root and rivet them so fast till scarce any application whatsoever is able to loosen them; and till the natural sentiments of his conscience are even choked and stifled by the means of them.

A false firmness and resolution, joined with a shame of unsaying and undoing all a man hath said and done before, may possibly carry him headlong on to his death, without owning, or perhaps even seeing, his danger. Gross and heavy minds, unimproved by education and instruction, have at length arrived at such a

degree of stupidity, as to think of nothing beyond this world, nor of any thing in it, but what immediately affects their senses. And even spirits more refined may, by a perpetual and total immersion in bodily pleasures, arrive at last at the same degree of insensibility. In such cases, and by the help of such qualities as these, it is possible, I grant, and sometimes happens, that men have gone out of the world, as they lived in it, defying conscience, and the power of it, and deriding the flames of hell, till they were in the midst of them. But these are rare instances, and of no force therefore, when opposed to the general conviction and feeling of mankind upon the same occasions. They prove only that there are monsters in the moral, as well as the natural world, which make nothing against the settled laws, and regular course of either. To argue against the innate and pungent reflections of conscience from some men's want of them, is, as if one should attempt to prove, that man is not a reasonable creature, because some men are born naturals, and others by too great an intension of thought, or by brutal excesses, have lost the use of their reason. if the light of reason may itself be extinguished, much more may the voice of conscience be drowned; which, being a practical principle, is perpetually warred upon by our lusts, and passions, and sinful habits; whereas the other, being a more speculative power, hath no contrary in the mind of man to struggle with.

But I forbear, since there remains yet the

For

III. Third and last part of my task, to apply what hath been said to the proper object of all our admonitions from the pulpit (and particularly of this) the hearts and consciences of the hearers.

Since therefore the wise Author of our natures hath so contrived them, that guilt is naturally and almost necessarily attended with trouble and uneasiness, let us even from hence be persuaded to preserve the purity, that we may preserve the peace and tranquillity of our minds. For pleasure's sake, let us abstain from all

criminal pleasures and pollutions; because the racking pains of guilt, duly awakened, are really an overbalance to the greatest sensual gratifications. The charms of vice (how tempting soever they may seem to be) are by no means equivalent to the inward remorse and trouble, and the tormenting reflections which attend it; which always keep pace with our guilt, and are proportioned to the greatness and daringness of our crimes: for mighty sinners (here as well as hereafter) shall be mightily tormented, Wisd. vi. 6. Sins of omission, infirmity, and surprise there will be; even the just man falls seven times a day by them, and rises again from them with strength and cheerfulness to his duty; but let us be sure carefully to guard against all such flagrant enormities, as do violence to the first and plainest dictates of our reason, and overbear the strongest impulses of our conscience; for these will certainly leave a wound behind them, which we shall find it hard to bear, and harder, much harder, to cure. Let no temptation, no interest, no influence whatsoever, sway us to do any thing contrary to the suggestions of conscience in plain cases, and points of moment. Let us no more dare to do in private what that tells us ought not to be done, than if we were upon an open theatre, and the eyes of the whole creation were upon us. What signifies it that we escape the view and observation of men, when the watchful witness within sees and records all our faults, and will certainly one day reprove us, and set our misdeeds in order before us.

It hath been reckoned a good rule for an happy conduct of life, to be sure of keeping our domestic concerns right, and of being easy under our own roof, where we may find an agreeable retreat and shelter from any disappointments we meet with in the great scene of vexation, the world. And the same rule will, with greater reason, hold in relation to the peace of our conscience. Let our first care be to keep all quiet and serene there: when this point is once gained at home, external accidents will not be able deeply to affect us; and unless it be