when it would fet out to us the diforders and uncafinefs of a guilty felf-condemning mind. And,

2. There is nothing in these representations particular to the times and perfons, on which they point; nothing but what happens alike to all men in like cafes; and is the genuine and neceffary refult of offending against the light of our confciences. Nor is it poffible, indeed, in the nature of the thing, that matters fhould be otherwife. It is the way, in which guilt doth and must always operate. For moral evil can no more be committed, than natural evil can be fuffered, without anguifh and difquiet; Whatever doth violence to the plain dictates of our reafon concerning virtue and vice, duty and fin, will as certainly difcompofe and afflict our thoughts, as a wound will raife a fmart in the flesh that receives it. Good and evil, whether natural or moral, are but other words for pleasure and pain, delight and uneafinefs: At least, though they may be distinguished in the notion, yet are they not to be separated in reality; but the one of them, wherever it is, will conftantly and uniformly excite and produce the other. Pain and pleasure are the fprings of all human actions, the great engines, by which the wife Author of our natures governs and fteers them to the purposes, for which he ordained them. By thefe, annexed to the perception of good and evil, he inclines us powerfully to pursue the one, and to avoid the other; to purfue natural good, and to avoid natural evil, by delightful or uneafy fenfations, that immediately affect the body; to purfue moral good, and to avoid moral evil, by pleafing or painful

H 2

painful impreffions made on the mind From hence it is, that we fo readily choose or refuse, do or forbear, every thing that is profitable or noxious to us, and requifite to preferve or perfect our beings. And because it is an end of far greater importance, and more worthy of our all-wife Creator's care, to fecure the integrity of our moral, than of our natural perfections; therefore he hath made the pleafures and pains, fubfervient to this purpose, more extenfive and durable; fo that the inward complacence we find in acting reasonably and virtuously, and the difquiet we feel from vicious choices and pursuits, is protracted beyond the acts themfelves, from whence it a ofe; and renewed often upon our fouls, by diftant reflexions; whereas the pleasures and pins, attending the perceptions of natural good and evil, are bounded within a narrower.compass, and do feldom ftay long, or return with any force upon the mind, after a removal of the objects that occafioned them.

Hence then the fatisfactions or ftings of confcience feverally arife: They are the fanctions, as it were, and enforcements of that eternal law of good and evil, to which we are fubjected; the natural rewards and punishments originally annexed to the obfervance, or breach of that law by the great Promulger of it; and which being thus joined and twitted together by God, can fcarce, by any arts, endeavours, or practices of men, be put afunder. The prophet, therefore, explains Good and Evil, by Sweet and Bitter. "Wot be to them" (fays he)" that call evi good, " and good evil! that put bitter for fweet, and

"Sweet

fweet for bitter!" Ifa. v. 20. Implying, that the former of thefe do as naturally and fenfibly affect the foul, as the latter do the palate; and leave as grateful, or diipleasing a relith behind them. But,

3. There is no need of arguments, to evince this truth; the univerfal experience and feeling of mankind bears witnefs to it. For fay, did ever any of you break the power of a darling luft, refift a preffing temptation, or perform any act of a confpicuous and diftinguifhing virtue, but that you found it foon turn to account to you? Did not your minds fwell with a fecret fatisfaction, at the moment when you were doing it? And was not a reflexion upon it afterwards always fweet and refreshing?" Health to your navel, and marrow to your bones?" Prov. iii. 8. On the contrary, did you ever indulge a criminal appe tite, or allow yourfelf fedately in any practice which you knew to be unlawful, but that you felt an inward ftruggle, and strong reluctances of mind before the attempt, and bitter pangs of remorfe attending it? Though no eye faw what you did, and you were fure that no mortal could difcover it; did not fhame and confufion fecretly 'lay hold of you? Was not your own confcience instead of a thoufand witneffes to you? Did it not plead with you face to face," as it were, and upbraid you with your backflidings? Ezek. xx. 35. Have not fome of you, perhaps, at this inftant, a fenfible experience of the truth which I am preffing upon you? Do you not feel the Operation of that powerful principle, of which I am difcourfing? is not the memory of some of

your

your paft fins even now prefent to you? And are not your minds ftung with fome degree of that règret and uneafinefs which followed upon the first commiffion of them? And do you not difcover what paffes within you, by a more than ordinary attention, ferioufnefs, and filence; and even by an endeavour to throw off these visible marks of concern, into which you are furprised, as foon as they are observed?

The jolly and voluptuous livers, the men who fet up for freedom of thought, and for difengaging themfelves from the prejudices of education and fuperftitious opinions, may pretend to dispute this truth, and perhaps, in the gaiety of their hearts, may venture even to deride it: But they cannot, however, get rid of their inward convictions of it; they must feel it sometimes, though they will not own it. There is no poffibility of reasoning ourselves out of our own experience, or of laughing down a principle woven foclofely into the make and frame of our natures. Notwithstanding our endeavours to conceal and stifle it, it will breake out sometimes, and difcover itself to a careful obferver, through all our pretences and difguifes; for even "in the midft of fuch a laughter, the heart is forrowful:" Prov xiii. 14. and as the beginning of that mirth was folly, fo the end of it is always heavinefs.

Look upon one of these men, who would be thought to have made his ill practices and il principles perfectly confiftent; to have fhaken off all regard to the dictates of his own mind concerning good and evil, and to have gotten above the reproofs of his confcience; and will you find a thoufand things, in his actions

and

and difcourfes, teftifying against him, that "he deceiveth himfelf," and that "the truth is not in him," John i. 8. If he be indeed, as he pretends, at eafe in his enjoyments, from whence come thofe diforders and unevennefs in his life and conduct; thofe viciffitudes of good and bad humour, mirth and thoughtfulness; that perpetual purfuit of little, mean, infipid amufements; that reftlefs defire of changing the fcene, and the objects of his pleafures; thofe fudden eruptions of paffion and rage upon the leaft difappointments? Certainly, all is not right within; or elle there' would be a greater calm and ferenity without: If his mind were not in an unnatural fituation, and under contrary influences, it would not be thus toffed and difquieted; For what reafon doth he contrive for himfelf fuch a chain and fucceffion of entertainments; and take care to be delivered over from one folly, one diverfion, to another, without intermiffion? Why, but because he dreads to leave any void fpaces of life unfilled, left confcience fhould find work for his mind at thofe intervals? He hath no way to fence against guilty reflexions, but by stopping up all the avenues at which they might enter. Hence, his ftrong addiction to company, his averfion to darkness and folitude; which recollect the thoughts, and turn the mind inward upon itself, by fhutting out external abjects and impreffions. It is not, because the pleasures of 'fociety are always new and grateful to him, that he purfues them thus keenly; for they foon lose their relish, and grow flat and infipid, by repetition. They are not his choice, but his refuge; for the trutĺr