mortal, to believe they are mortal; no more than it will make a beast to be immortal, if he could but think so. The coffin-maker and the grave-maker, if they never read a book, can tell you that is no controversy whether you must go hence. And faith and reason can both assure you, that your souls lie not down with your bodies in the dust, nor are annihilated by the falling of your earthly tabernacle; no more than the spirits when the glass is broken that held them, or than your bodies are annihilated when you put off your clothes, or rise out of your beds: or than the bird is annihilated that is got out of the shell: or the infant that is by nature cast out of the womb: nor any more than the angels that appeared to the apostles or others, were annihilated when they disappeared: or, (if I must speak more suitably to the ungodly,) no more than the devil that sometimes appeareth in a bodily shape is annihilated when that appearance vanisheth. As I suppose there is never a person in all this populous city, that was here but sevenscore years ago, so I suppose there is none of you that are here to-day, that expect to be here so long a time: they are gone before you into a world where there is no presumption or security: and you are going after them, and are almost there. As easily as you sit here, I tell you all, you are going after them apace, and are almost there.

O sirs, that world is a world of light. To the damned souls it is called outer darkness, because they have none of the light of glory or of comfort: but they shall have the light of a self-accusing, self-tormenting conscience, that is gone out of the darkness of self-ignorance and self-deceit, and is fully cured of its slumber and insensibility.

Do you now take a civilized person for a saint? You will not do so long.

Doth the baptism of water only go with you now for the regeneration of the spirit? It will not be so long: you will shortly be undeceived.

Doth a ceremonious Pharisee thank God for the sincerity and holiness which he never had? He will shortly be taught better to know the nature of holiness and sincerity, and that God justifieth not all that justify themselves.

Doth a little formal, heartless, hypocritical devotion, now cover a sensual, worldly mind? The cover will be shortly

taken off, and the nakedness and deformity of the Pharisee will appear.

Doth the name of a Christian, and the heartless use of outward ordinances, and that good esteem of others, now, go for godliness and saving grace? The autumn is at hand, when these leaves will all lie in the dirt, and will go for fruit no longer.

Do you now take it for true religion to be hot for lust, and pride, and gain, and cold for God and your salvation? and to obey God as far as will stand with your outward prosperity, and as the flesh, or your other masters will give leave? This is an opinion that never accompanied any man beyond the grave.

Do you think to be saved by all that devotion, which gives God but the leavings of the flesh and world, and by a religion that gives him but the outer rooms (when pleasure and gain are next your hearts), and that makes him but an underling to your covetousness and ambition? Think so if you can, when you are gone hence.

Cannot the preacher now make the ungodly to know that they are ungodly, the unsanctified to know they are but carnal, and the pharisee to know that his religion is vain? Death can convince the awakened soul of all this in a moment.

You can choose whether you will believe us; but death will so speak as to be believed. You must be voluntary in knowing your misery now; but then you shall know it against your wills. You must open the windows, or must open your eyes, if you will see yourselves by the light which we bring to you; but death irresistibly throws open all. To say in pride and obstinacy, I will not believe it,' will now serve turn to quiet your consciences, and make you seem as safe as any; but when God saith You shall feel it, your unbelief is ineffectual: it can then torment you, but it can no longer ease you. There is then no room for 'I will not believe it.' God can without a word persuade you of that which you were resolved you would never be persuaded of.

This day while you all sit here in the body, you are every one affected according as you apprehend your state to be, whether it be indeed as you apprehend it or not; but when death hath opened you the door into eternity, you will be all affected with your conditions as they are indeed.

To-day, you are here quiet, because you think your souls are safe and some are troubled that think they are in a state of misery: and it is likely that some on both sides are mistaken: and the quiet of one, and the disquiet of another, may arise for want of the knowledge of yourselves: but death will rectify both these errors: and then if you are unsanctified, no false opinions, no unbelief, no confident conceits of your integrity, will abate your desperation, or give any ease to your tormented minds: nor will there be any doubts, or fears, or despairing, self-afflicting thoughts, to disquiet those that Christ hath justified, or abate their joys.

O how many thousands will then think much otherwise of themselves than they now do! Death turns you out of the company of flatterers, and calls you out of the world of error, where men laugh and cry in their sleep; and bringeth you among awakened souls, where all things are called by their proper names; and all men are taken by themselves to be as they are indeed. Serious religion is not there a derision; nor loving, and seeking, and serving God with all the heart, and soul, and might, is not there taken for unnecessary preciseness. Holiness is not there called humour or hypocrisy nor is the pharisaical ceremonious hypocrite taken for a man of the most prudent, safe and moderate religion. God judgeth not as man, by outward appearances, but with righteous judgment: "That which is highly esteemed among men, is abomination in the sight of God." (Luke xvi. 15.) And he will make you then to judge of yourselves as he hath judged you. Though wisdom now be justified but of her children, it shall then be justified by all: not by a sanctifying, but a constrained, involuntary, tormenting light and though now men can believe as well of themselves, as self-love and the quieting of their consciences doth require, yet then they will have lost this mastery over their own conceits.

O therefore, beloved hearers, seeing you are all going into an irresistibly convincing light, and are almost in that world where all must fully know themselves: seeing "nothing is covered that shall not be revealed, nor hid that shall not be made known," (Matt. x.26,) and no unsanctified hypocrite doth flatter himself into such high presumption, but a dying hour will take him down, and turn it all.

into endless desperation, if true conversion prevent it not; I beseech you be more conversant with conscience than you

have been be ashamed that a wanton sot, that knoweth nothing better than flesh to adorn and to be careful of, should bestow more hours in looking into the glass, than you bestow to look into God's word and your own hearts: yea, more in a year, than you have thus bestowed in all your lives!

O that you knew what a profitable companion conscience is for you to converse with! You would not then think yourselves so solitary as to be destitute of company and employment, while you have so much to do at home, and one in your bosom that you have so much business with.

And it is a necessary and inseparable companion. If the wife of your bosom should be a shrew, you must not therefore be a stranger to her, because of nearness, necessity and business. If conscience should give you some foul words, and chide you when you had rather be flattered; yet there is no running from it for more pleasant company: Home is homely: It is there that you must dwell: conscience is married to you: please it on safe terms as well as you can; but do not think to overrun it: for it will follow you; or you must return to it home again, when you have gone your furthest, and done your worst. You have taken conscience for better and for worse. There is no expectation of a divorce: no, not by death: it will follow you to eternity. And therefore be not strange to conscience, that will be your comforter or tormenter at the hour of death; that can do so much to make sickness, and all suffering light or grievous; and to make death welcome or terrible to you: Fly not from conscience that must dwell with you for ever.

O foolish sinners! Do you want company and business to pass away your time? Are you fain to go to cards or dice to waste this treasure, which is more precious than your money? Do you go to an alehouse, a playhouse, or other such pest-house, to seek for company or pastime? (I say not, to Bedlam; for that is as much more honourable than your sinful society, as the place that cureth or restraineth the mad, is better than that which makes them mad.) Do you forget what company and business you have at home? As you love your peace and happiness, instead of conversing

with vain, lascivious, or ungodly persons, O spend that time in converse with your consciences! You may there have a thousand times more profitable discourse. Be not offended to give conscience a sober, faithful answer, if it ask you, What have you done with all your time? and how you have lived in the world? and how you have obeyed the calls of grace? and how you have entertained Christ into your hearts? and whether you have obeyed him or his enemy? and whether you have been led by the Spirit or the flesh? and what forwardness the work of your salvation is in, for which you came into the world? and what assurance you have of your justification and salvation? and what readiness to die? Think it not presumption in conscience thus to examine you: though you have perhaps unthankfully disdained to be thus examined by your pastors, your external guides, whose office is to help you, and watch for your souls; yet do not disdain to be accountable to yourselves. Accountable you must be ere long to God: and that friend that would help you to make ready such accounts, on which so great a weight dependeth, methinks should be welcomed with a thousand thanks. Ministers and conscience should be acceptable to you, that come on so necessary a work.

The chidings of conscience are more friendly language than the flattery of your ignorant or proud associates: and should be more grateful to you than " the laughter of fools, which is like the crackling of thorns in the fire." (Eccles. vii. 6.) Thy own home, though it be a house of mourning, is better for thee than such a sinful house of mirth. Hear but what conscience hath to say to you. No one will speak with you, that hath words to speak, which more nearly concern you. I beseech you, sirs, be more frequent and familiar with conscience than most men are. Think not the time lost, when you walk and talk with it alone. Confer with it about your endless state, and where you are likely to be for ever; and what way you are in; and what thoughts you will have of your sins and duties, of the world and God, of yielding or overcoming at the last. Is there no sense in this discourse? Thou art dead and senseless if thou think so. Is idle talk and prating better? I hope you are not so distracted as to say so. If you have not blinded, deceived or bribed it, I tell you, conscience hath other kind of discourse for you; more excellent and necessary things to talk