The Mischiefs of Self-Ignorance and the Benefits of Self-Acquaintance

He that is a stranger to himself, his sin, his misery, his necessity, &c. is a stranger to God, and to all that might denominate him wise or happy. To have taken the true measure of our capacities, abilities, infirmities, and necessities, and thereupon to perceive what is really BEST for us, and most agreeable to our case, is the first part of true, practical, saving knowledge. Did the distracted mindless world consider, what work they have at home for their most serious thoughts, and care, and diligence, and of what unspeakable concern and necessity it is, and that men carry within them the matter of their final doom, and the beginning of endless joy or sorrows, they would be called home from their busy idleness, their laborious loss of precious time, and unprofitable vagaries, and would be studying their hearts, while they are doting about a multitude of impcrtlnencies, and would bo pleasing God, while they are purveying for the flesh; and they would sec that it more concerneth them to know the day of their salvation, and now to lay up a treasure in heaven, that they may die in faith, and live in everlasting joy and glory, than in the crowd and noise of the ambitious, covetous, voluptuous sensualists, to run after a feather, till time is past, and mercy gone, and endless woe hath unexpectedly surprised them. Yet do these dead men think they live, because they laugh, and talk, and ride, and go, and dwell among gnats and flies in the sunshine, and not with worms and dust in darkness: they think they are awake, because they dream that they are busy; and that they are doing the works of men, because they make a noise for finer clothes, and larger rooms, and sweeter morsels, than their poorer, undeceived neighbours have: they think they are sailing to felicity, because ihcy are tossed up and down: and if they can play the pike among the fishes, or the wolves in the flocks of Christ; or if they can attain to the honour of a pestilence, to be able to do a great deal of hurt, they are proud of it, and look as high as if they saw neither the grave nor hell, nor knew how quickly they must be taken down, and laid so low, that “the righteous shall sec it, and fear, and laugh at them, saying, Lo, this is the man that made not God his strength, but trusted in the abundance of his riches, and strengthened himself in his wickedness. — Behold these are the ungodly that prosper in the world, and increase in riches; surely they are set in slippery places, and cast down to destruction, and brought to desolation as in a moment, and utterly consumed with terrors: as a dream when one awaketh, so, O Lord, when thou awakest, thou shall despise their image.” Though, while they lived, they blessed themselves, and were praised by men; yet, when they die, they carry nothing away; “their glory shall not descend after them; like sheep they are laid in the grave: death shall feed on them, and the upright shall have dominion over them in the morning; man in honour abideth not: he is like the beasts that perish; this their way is their folly; yet their posterity approve their sayings.” They shall find that God is not afraid to lay the hand of justice on the stoutest of them, and will be as bold with silken, shining gallants, as with the poorest worms; and will spit in the face of that man’s glory, who durst spit in the face of the glory of his Redeemer, and will trample upon the interest which is set up against the interest of Christ. The jovial world do now think that self-study is too melancholy a thing, and they choose to be distracted for fear of being melancholy; and will be mad, in Solomon’s sense, that they may be wise and happy in their own: “The heart of fools is in the house of mirth, and the heart of the wise in the house of mourning.”

And yet there is most joy in the hearts of the wise, and least solid peace in the hearts of fools: they know that conscience hath so much against them, that they dare not hear its accusations and its sentence: they dare not look into the hideous dungeon of their hearts, nor peruse the accounts of their bankrupt souls, nor read the history of their impious, unprofitable lives, lest they should be tormented before the time: they dare not live like serious men, lest they should lose thereby the delights of” brutes. O sinful men! against what light, both natural and supernatural, do they offend! They see how all tilings haste away; the names of their predecessors are left as a warning to them: every corpse that is carried to the grave, being dead, yet speaketh; and every bone that is thence cast up, doth rise as a witness against their luxury and lust: and yet they will have their wills and pleasure while they may, whatever it cost theqi; and they will set their houses on fire, that they might have one merry blaze, and warm them once before they die.

I shall give a few directions to those that would be well acquainted with themselves, and would comfortably converse at home.

Direct. 1. Let him not overvalue or mind the deceitful world, that would have fruitful converse with God and with himself. Trust not such a cheater as hath robbed so many thousands before us, especially when God and common experience call out to us to take heed. The study of riches, and reputation, and pleasures, agreeth not with this study of God, and of our hearts: and though the world will not make acquaintance with us, if we come not in their fashion, nor see us, if we stand not on the higher ground; yet it is much b.etter to be unknown to others, than to ourselves. A retirement, therefore, must be made, from the inordinate pursuit of worldly things, and the charms of honours, riches, and delights: and if some present loss does seem to follow, it is indeed no loss, which tendeth to gain. Methinks they that sincerely pray, “Lead us not into temptation,” should not desire to have bolts and bars between God and them, and to dwell where salvation is most hardly attained! Desire not to be planted in any such place, though it seem a paradise, where God is most unknown, and used as a stranger, and where saints are wonders, and examples of serious piety are most rare, and where a heavenly conversation is known but by reports, and reported of according to the malice of the servant, and represented hui as fancy, hypocrisy, or faction: where sin most prospereth, and is in least disgrace; and where it is a greater shame to be a saint than to be a sinner; a serious Christian, than a seared, stupified sensualist. Bless you from that place where the weeds of vice are so rank, that no good plant can prosper near them: where gain is godliness; and impiety is necessary to acceptable observance; and a tender conscience, and the fear of God, are characters of one too surly and unpliable to be countenanced by men; where the tongue, that nature formed to be the index of the mind, is made the chief instrument to hide it; and men are so conscious of their own incredibility, that no one doth believe or trust another: where no words are heart-deep, but those that are spoken against Christ’s cause and interest, or for their own; where a vile person is honoured, and those contemned that fear the Lord. Bless you from the place where truth is intolerable, and untruth cloaked with its name; where holiness is looked at as an owl or enemy, and yet hypocrisy must steal its honour from it; where he is a saint that is less wicked than infamous transgressors; and where Dives’ life is blameless temperance; and where pride, idleness, fulness of bread, and filthy fornication and lasciviousness, arc the infirmities of pious and excellent persons; where great sins are small ones, and small ones are none; and where the greatest must have no reproof, and the physician is taken for the greatest enemy; where chaff is valued at the price of wheat, and yet the famine is of choice: where persons and things are measured by interest; and duty to God derided as folly, whenever it crosseth the wisdom of the world, and hatod as some hurtful thing, when it crosseth fleshly men in their desires: and where Dives’ brethren are unwarned; and none are more secure and frolicsome, than those that to-morrow may be in hell. Old travellers are usually most addicted to end their days in solitude; learn to contemn the world at cheaper rates than they: neither hope, nor wish to live an Alexander, and die a Socrates: a crowd or concourse, though the greatest, where there is the greatest tumult of affairs, and confluence of temptations, is not the safest place to die in; and I have most mind to live where I would die. Where men are Christians in name, and infidels in conversation, the sweetness of their Christian names will not preserve them or you from the danger of their unchristian

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