pation or calling, on which his credit, livelihood, or usefulness in the world depends. And as this kind of knowledge is valuable in proportion to its ends, so it ought to be cultivated with a diligence and esteem answerable to that.. Lastly. Other kinds of knowledge are good absolutely and universally; viz. the knowledge of god and ourselves; the nature of our final happiness, and the way to it. This is equally necessary to all. And how thankful should we be, that we who live under the light of the gospel, and enjoy that light in its perfection and purity, have so many happy means and opportunities of attaining this most useful and necessary kind of knowledge.

A man can never understand himself, then, till he makes a right estimate of his knowledge; till he examines what kind of knowledge he values himself most upon, and most diligently cultivates; how high a value he sets upon it; what good it does him; what effect it hath upon him; what he is the better for it; what end it answers now; or what it is like to answer hereafter. There is nothing in which a man's self-ignorance discovers itself more, than in the esteem he hath for his understanding, or for himself, on account of it. It is a trite and true observation, that empty things make the most sound.' Men of the least knowledge are most apt to make a show of it, and to value themselves upon it; which is very visible in forward confident youth; raw, conceited academics; and those who, uneducated in their childhood, betake themselves in latter life to reading, without taste or judgment, only as an accomplishment, and to make a show of scholarship, who have just learning enough to spoil company, and render themselves ridiculous; but not enough to make themselves, or others at all the wiser.

But beside the fore-mentioned kinds of knowledge, there is another, which is commonly called false knowledge; which though it often imposes upon men under the show and semblance of true knowledge is really worse than ignorance. Some men have learned a great many things, and have taken a great deal of pains to learn them, and stand very high in their own opinion on account of them, which yet they must unlearn, before they are truely wise. They have been at a vast expense of time, and pains, and patience, to heap together, and to confirm themselves in a set of wrong notions; which they lay up in their minds as a fund of valuable knowledge; which, if they try by the fore-mentioned rules; viz. The tendency they have to make them wiser and better, or more useful and beneficial to others,' will be found to be worth just nothing at all.

Beware of this false-knowledge: for as there is nothing of which men are more obstinately tenacious, so there is nothing that renders them more vain, or more averse to self-knowledge. Of all things, men are most fond of their wrong notions.

The apostle Paul often speaks of these men, and their self-sufficiency, in very poignant terms; 'who, though they seem wise, yet,' says he, 'must become fools, before they are wise.' (1 Cor. iii. 18.) Though they think they know a great deal, 'know nothing yet as they ought to know,' (1. Cor. viii. 2.) but deceive themselves, by thinking themselves something, when they are nothing,' (1 Gal. vi. 3.) And whilst they desire to be teachers of others, 'understand not what they say, nor whereof they affirm, (1 Tim. i. 7.) and want themselves to be taught what are the first rudiments and principles of wisdom.' 1 Heb. v. 12.

CHAPTER XIV.

CONCERNING THE KNOWLEDGE, GUARD AND GOVERNMENT OF OUR THOUGHTS.

XIII. Another part of self-knowledge consists in a

due acquaintance with our own thoughts, and inward workings of the imagination.

The right government of the thoughts requires no small art, vigilance, and resolution. But it is a matter of such vast importance to the peace and improvement of the mind, that it is worth while to be at some pains about it. about it. A man that hath so numerous and turbulent a family to govern as his own thoughts, which are too apt to be at the command of his passions and appetites ought not to be long from home. If he be, they will soon grow mutinous and disorderly, under the conduct of those two headstrong guides, and raise great clamors and disturbances. And sometimes on the slightest occasions And a more dreadful scene of misery can hardly be imagined, than that which is occasioned by such a tumult and uproar within, when a raging conscience, or inflamed passions, are let loose, without check or control. A city in flames, or the mutiny of a drunken crew aboard, who have murdered the captain, and are butchering one another, are but faint emblems of it. The torment of the mind, under such an insurrection and ravage of the passions, is not easy to be conceived. The most revengeful man cannot wish his enemy a greater.

Of what vast importance, then, is it for a man to watch over his thoughts, in order to a right of government of them! To consider what kind of thoughts find the easiest admission; in what manner they insinuate themselves, and upon what occasions.

It was an excellent rule which a wise heathen prescribed to himself, in his private meditations: Manage,' saith he, all your actions and thoughts in such a manner, as if you were just going out of the world.' Again, saith he, ' A man is seldom, if ever, unhappy for not knowing the thoughts of others; but he that does not attend to the motions of his own, is certainly miserable.'

Nothing can be more unhappy than that man who ranges every where, ransacks every thing, digs into the bowels of the earth, dives into other men's bosoms, but does not consider all the while that his own mind will afford him sufficient scope for inquiry and entertainment; and that the care and improvement of himself, will give him business enough.

Your disposition will be suitable to that which you most frequently think on; for the soul is, as it were, tinged with the color and complexion of its own thoughts,

It may be worth our while then to discuss this matter a little more precisely, and consider, first, what kind of thoughts are to be excluded or rejected; and, second, what ought to be indulged and entertained.

And if

First. Some thoughts ought to be immediately banished, as soon as they have found entrance. we are often troubled with them, the safest way will be to keep a good guard on the avenues of the mind by which they enter, and avoid those occasions which commonly excite them. For sometimes it is much easier to prevent a bad thought entering the mind, than to get rid of it when it is entered. More particularly.

1. Watch against all fretful and distcontented thoughts, which do but chafe and wound the mind to no purpose. To harbor these, is to do yourself more injury than it is in the power of your greatest enemy to do you. is equally a Christian's interest and duty to learn, in whatsoever state he is, therewith to be content.' Phil iv. 2.

It

2. Harbor not too anxious and too anxious and apprehensive thoughts. By giving way to tormenting fears, suspicions of some approaching danger or troublesome event, we not only anticipate, but double the evil we fear; arid undergo much more from the apprehension of it before it comes, than from the whole weight of it when present. This is a great, but common weakness, which a man should endeavor to arm himself against

curs with the testimony of the holy scriptures to assure us, 'that the allowed thought of foolishness is sin.'* (Prov. xxxiv. 9.)

CHAPTER XV.

CONCERNING THE MEMORY.

XIV. A man that knows himself will have a regard not only to the management of his thoughts, but the improvement of his memory.

The memory is that faculty of the soul which was designed for the store-house, or repository, of its most useful notions, where they may be laid up in safety, to be produced upon proper occasions.

Now, a thorough self-acquaintance cannot be had without a proper regard to this, in two respects. (1.) Its furniture. (2.) Its improvement.

(1.) A man that knows himself will have a regard to the furniture of his memory; not to load it with trash and lumber, a set of useless notions, or low conceits, which he will be ashamed to produce before persons of taste and judgment.

If the retention be bad, do not crowd it; it is of as ill consequence to overload a weak memory as a weak stomach and that it may not be cumbered with trash, take heed what company you keep, what books you read, and what thoughts you favor; otherwise a great deal of useless rubbish may fix there before you are aware, and take up the room which ought to be possessed by better notions. But let not a valuable thought slip from you, though you pursue it with much time and pains before you overtake it; the regaining and refixing it may be of more avail to you than many hour's" reading.

What pity it is that men should take such immense pains, as some do, to learn those things which, as soon as they become wise, they must take as much pains to unlearn. A thought that should make us very curious and cautious about the proper furniture of our minds.

(2.) Self-knowledge will acquaint a man with the extent and capacity of his memory, and the right way to improve it.

There is no small art in improving a weak memory, so as to turn it to as great an advantage as many do theirs which are much stronger. A few short rules to this A few short rules to this purpose may be no unprofitable digression. 1. Beware of every sort of intemperance, in the indulgence of the appetites and passions. Excesses of all kinds do a great injury to the memory. 2. If it be weak, do not overload it.

Charge it only sel should not be stuffed with lumber but if its freight be precious, and judiciously stowed, it may be more valuable than a ship of twice its burden.

with the most useful and solid notions. A small ves

3. Recur to the help of a common-place-book, according to Mr. Locke's method;† and review it once a year. But take care that, by confiding to your minutes, or memorial aids, you do not excuse the labor of the memory; which is one disadvantage attending this method.

4. Take every opportunity of uttering your best thoughts in conversation, when the subject will admit it; that will deeply imprint them. Hence the tales Hence the tales which common story-tellers relate, they never forget though ever so silly.

5. Join to the idea you would remember, some other that is more familiar to you, which bears some similitude to it, either in its nature, or in the sound of the

*Guard well thy thoughts: our thoughts are heard in heaven.' [Young. + See Appendix at the the end of the volume, in which Mr Locke's method of keeping a common-place-book is fully explained.

word by which it is expressed; or that hath some relation to it, either in time or place. And then, by recalling this, which is easily remembered, you will, by that concatenation, or connection of ideas, which Mr Locke takes notice of, draw in that which is thus linked or joined with it; which otherwise you might hunt after in vain. This rule is of excellent use to help you to remember names.

6. What you are determined to remember, think of before you go to sleep at night, and the first thing in the morning, when the faculties are fresh; and recollect at evening every thing worth remembering the day past.

7. Think it not enough to furnish this store-house of the mind with good thoughts, but lay them up there in order, digested or ranged under proper subjects or classes; that whatever subject you have occasion to think or talk upon, you may have recourse immediately to a good thought, which you heretofore laid up there, under that subject. So that the very mention of the subject may bring the thought to hand; by which means you will carry a regular common-place-book in your memory. And it may not be amiss sometimes to take an inventory of this mental furniture, and recollect how many good thoughts you have treasured up under such particular subjects, and whence you had them.

Lastly. Nothing helps the memory more than often thinking, writing, or talking, on those subjects you would remember. But enough of this.

CHAPTER XVI.

CONCERNING THE MENTAL TASTE.

XV. A man that knows himself is sensible of, and attentive to, the particular tastes of his mind, especially in matters of religion.

As the late Mr Howe judiciously observes, in his 'Humble Request both to Conformists and Dissenters,' There is, beside bare understanding and judgment, and diverse from that heavenly gift, which in the scripture is called grace, such a thing as gust and relish belonging to the mind of man, and, I doubt not, with all men, if they observe themselves, and which are as unaccountable and as various as the relishes and disgusts of sense. This they only wonder at who understand not themselves, or will consider nobody but themselves. So that it cannot be said universally, that it is a better judgment, or more grace, that determines men the one way or the other; but somewhat in the temper of their minds, distinct from both, which I know not how better to express, than by mental taste. this, hath no more of mystery in it, than that there is such a thing belonging to our natures as complacency and displacency, in reference to the objects of the mind. And this, in the kind of it, is as common to men as human nature; but as much diversified in individuals, as men's other inclinations are.'

And

Now this different taste in matters relating to religion, though it may be sometimes natural, or what is born with a man, generally arises from the difference of education and custom. And the true reason why some persons have an inveterate disrelish to certain circumstantials of religion, though ever so justifiable; and at the same time a fixed esteem for others, that are more exceptionable, may be no better than what I have heard some very honestly profess; viz. that the one they have been used to, and the other not. As a person, by long use and habit, acquires a greater relish for coarse and unwholesome food, than the most delicate diet; so, a person long habituated to a set of phrases, notions, and modes, may, by degrees, come to have such a veneration and esteem for them, as to despise and condemn

others which they have not been accustomed to, though perhaps more edifying, and more agreeable to scripture and reason.

This particular taste in matters of religion differs very much, as Mr Howe well observes, both from judgment and grace.

:

However, it is often mistaken for both when it is mistaken for the former, it leads to error; when mistaken for the latter, to censoriousness.

This different taste of mental objects is much the same with that, which, with regard to the objects of sense, we call fancy; for, as one man cannot be said to have a better judgment in food than another, purely because he likes some kind of meats better than he; so, neither can he be said to have a better judgment in matters of religion, purely because he hath a greater fondness for some particular doctrines and forms.

But though this mental taste be not the same as the judgment, yet it often draws the judgment to it; and sometimes very much perverts it.

This appears in nothing more evidently than in the judgment people pass upon the sermons they hear. Some are best pleased with those discourses that are pathetic and warming; others with what is more solid and rational; and others with the sublime and mystical; nothing can be too plain for the taste of some, or too refined for that of others. Some are for having the address only to their reason and understanding; others only to their affections and passions; and others to their experience and consciences. And every hearer or reader is apt to judge according to his particular taste, and to esteem him the best preacher or writer who pleases him most; without examining his own particular taste, by which he judgeth.

It is natural, indeed, for every one to desire to have his own taste pleased; but it is unreasonable in him to set it up as the best, and make it a test and standard to others; but much more unreasonable to expect, that he who speaks in public, should always speak to his taste; which might as reasonably be expected by another, of a different one. It is equally impossible, that what is delivered to a multitude of hearers, should alike suit all their tastes, as that a single dish, though prepared with ever so much art and exactness, should equally please a great variety of appetites; among which there may be some, perhaps, very nice and sickly.

It is the preacher's duty to adapt his subjects to the taste of his hearers, as far as fidelity and conscience will admit; because it is well known, from reason and experience, as well as from the advice and practice of the apostle Paul, (Rom. xv. 2-1 Cor. ix. 22.) that this is the best way to promote their edification. But if their taste be totally vitiated, and incline them to take in that which will do them more harm than good, and to relish poison more than food, the most charitable thing the preacher can do in that case is, to endeavor to correct so vicious an appetite, which loathes that which is most wholesome, and craves pernicious food; this, I say, it is his duty to attempt, in the most gentle and prudent manner he can, though he run the risk of having his judgment or orthodoxy called into question by them, as it very possibly may; for commonly they are the most arbitrary and unmerciful judges in this case, who are least of all qualified for that office.

There is not, perhaps, a more unaccountable weakness in human nature than this,--that, with regard to religious matters, our animosities are generally greatest where our differences are least; they who come pretty near to our standard, but stop short there, are more the objects of our disgust and censure, than they who continue at the greatest distance from it. And in some cases it requires much candor and self-command to get over this weakness. To whatever secret spring in the human mind it may be owing, I shall not stay to inquire; but the thing itself is too obvious not to be taken notice of.

Now we should all of us be careful to find out and examine our proper taste of religious things; that, if it be a false one, we may rectify it; if a bad one, mend it; if a right and good one, strengthen and improve it: for the mind is capable of a false gust, as well as the palate, and comes by it in the same way; viz. by being long used to unnatural relishes, which, by custom, become grateful. And having found out what it is, and examined it by the test of scripture, reason and conscience, if it be not very wrong, let us indulge it, and read those books that are most suited to it it; which, for that reason, will be most edifying. But, at the same time, let us take care of two things: 1. That it do not bias our judgments, and draw us into error. 2. That it do not cramp our charity, and lead us to censorious

ness.

CHAPTER XVII

OF OUR GREAT AND GOVERNING VIEWS IN LIFE.

XVI. Another part of self-knowledge is, to know what are the great ends for which we live?

We must consider what is the ultimate scope we drive at; the general maxims and principles we live by; or whether we have not yet determined our end, and are governed by no fixed principles; or by such as we are ashamed to own.

'The first and leading dictate of prudence is that a man propose to himself his true and best interest for his end; and the next is, that he make use of all those means and opportunities whereby that end is to be obtained. This is the most effectual way that I know of to secure to one's self the character of a wise man here, and the reward of one hereafter. And between these two there is such a close connection, that he does not do the latter, cannot be supposed to intend the former. He that is not careful of his action, shall never persuade me that he seriously proposes to himself his best interest as his end; for if he did, he would as seriously apply himself to the regulation of the other, as the means.

There are few that live so much at random, as not to have some main end in eye; something that influences their conduct, and is the great object of their pursuit and hope. A man cannot live without some leading views: a wise man will always know what they are; whether it is fit he should be led by them or no; whether they be such as his understanding and reason approve, or only such as fancy and inclination suggest. He will be as much concerned to act with reason, as to talk with reason; as much ashamed of a solecism and contradiction, in his character, as in his conversation.

Where do our views center? In this world we are in; or in that we are going to? If our hopes and joys center here, it is a mortifying thought, that we are every day departing from our happiness: but if they are fixed above, it is a joy to think that we are every day drawing nearer to the object of our highest wishes.

Is our main care to appear great in the eye of man, or good in the eye of god? If the former, we expose ourselves to the pain of a perpetual disappointment. For it is much if the envy of men do not rob us of a good deal of our just praise, or if our vanity will be content with that portion of it they allow us. But if the latter be our main care, if our chief view is to be approved of god, we are laying up a fund of the most lasting and solid satisfactions. Not to say, that this is the truest way to appear great in the eye of men, and to conciliate the esteem of all those whose praise is worth our wish.

'Be this, then, O my soul, thy wise and steady pur suit; let this circumscribe and direct thy views, be