The Sure Trial of Uprightness

The title of this psalm declares the occasion of it: David "spake unto the Lord the words of this song, in the day that the Lord delivered him from the hand of all his enemies, and from the hand of Saul." It is a clear evidence of his heavenly mind, that after his victories and triumphs, when his throne was established in peace, he recounts the signal acts of divine providence with holy ecstacies of praise and thankfulness, and leaves an everlasting memorial of God's excellent goodness to him. Carnal persons in extremities, may be ardent in requests for deliverance, but when it is obtained, they retain but a cold remembrance of God's preserving mercy; nay, they often pervert his benefits: the affluence, and ease, and security of their condition, occasions the ungrateful forgetfulness of their benefactor. Self-love kindles desires for what we want, the love of God inspires a holy heat in praises for what we enjoy.

In the psalm, the inspired composer displays the divine perfections in lofty figures of speech, suitable to sacred poesy, and in a relative endearing way as manifested in his preservation. He attributes such titles to God, as are significant of the benefits he received : sometimes God discovers the crafty and cruel designs that are formed against his people, his eye saves them, and he is styled their "light:" sometimes he breaks the strength of their enemies, his hand and power saves them, he is styled their "defence." Here the psalmist, with exuberant affections, multiplies the divine titles, "the Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my shield, and my high tower, and my refuge, and my salvation: "a rock is a natural, a tower an artificial defence; both are used to express the safe protection he found in God. He then sets forth the extremity of his danger, to add a lustre to the name of his preserver: "the waves of death compassed me; the floods of ungodly men made me afraid: his ruin was imminent, and seemed to be inevitable: but in that distress, his fervent prayer, "his crying to God" pierced the heavens, God heard "his voice out of his temple," and speedily in the best season came for his deliverance. "He was seen upon the wings of the wind ;he rode upon a cherub," (those swifter spirits) "and did fly." He describes the terrors of his coming against his enemies : "the Lord thundered from the heavens; he sent down his arrows, and scattered them :his lightning discomfited them." The acts of justice reversed, have the ensign of mercy on them: the drowning of the Egyptians in the red sea, was the preserving of the Israelites. Briefly, he ascribes his deliverance to the favour of God as the sole mover, and the power of God as the sole worker of it. "He delivered me, because he delighted in me." His free and compassionate love was primarily active, and drew forth his power in its most noble exercise for the salvation of David. Such an ingenuous and grateful sense the psalmist had of the divine mercy: this gave the sweetest relish of his deliverance; this was his true triumph after the final conquest of his enemies. Indeed his enemies were unjust and cruel, and God vindicated the justice of his cause against them: therefore he saith, "the Lord rewarded me according to my righteousness; according to the cleanness of my hands hath he recompensed me." He declares the holiness of his conversation: "I have kept the ways of the Lord, and have not wickedly departed frorn my God." And as an eminent instance of this, he saith, in the words of the text, "I was upright also before him: and kept myself from mine iniquity."

In the text there is a solemn declaration of David's uprightness, by his attesting God the searcher and judge of the heart; "I was upright before him :" and by an infallible proof of it, "kept myself from mine iniquity."

There is one difficulty to be removed before I come to discourse upon the proposition, and that is, how this profession of uprightness is reconcileable with David's actions in the matter of Uriah? Whether we consider the quality of his sins, the crimson guilt, and killing circumstances that attended them; especially the deliberate and cruel contrivance of Uriah's death: or whether we consider the fearful interval between his sin and repentance: for like some fair rivers that in their current suddenly sink under ground, and are lost in their secret passage, till at a great distance they rise and flow again: thus it was with David, he that was so conspicuous in holiness of life, sunk into a gulf of sensuality and cruelty, and for a long time was unrelenting and unreformed, till by a special message from God by the prophet Nathan, he was renewed to repentance, and restored to the forfeited favour of God.

To this objection some learned interpreters answer, that the declaration of his innocence and integrity, must be understood with a tacit exception according to the testimony of scripture concerning him, "that he did that which was right in the eyes of the Lord, and turned not aside from any thing that he commanded him all the days of his life, save only in the matter of Uriah." That sin, though a dreadful provocation, yet did not blast the uprightness of the rest of his life, and make it unacceptable to God.
This affirmation of David may refer to his afflicted state, when his conscience was tender and vigilant, and his passions so subdued, that though Saul, his most unrighteous and implacable adversary, was at his mercy, and he could as easily have cut off his head, as the lap of his garment; though he was provoked to take his full revenge on him, and put an end to his own fears, yet he rejected the motion with abhorrence; "God forbid I should lift up my hand against the Lord's anointed:" he spared Saul, and would not by such an irregular act obtain the kingdom, though elected to it by God himself. By this we may take an estimate of his integrity, which God rewarded at last.

The proposition that I shall discourse of is this, that the preserving a man's self from his iniquity, is an undeceiving evidence of uprightness.

In the managing the doctrine, three things are to be considered and unfolded.
I. What sin may be denominated a man's own.
II. What the preserving onesself from that sin implies.
III. How this is an undeceiving evidence of uprightness.

I. What sin may be denominated a man's own.
In general, every sin that a man commits may be styled his own, as it is the issue of his corrupt nature, and the offspring of his depraved will. St. James expresses it, "every man is tempted," (that is, effectually) "when he is drawn away of his own lust." The devil may solicit and excite, but without the consent of the will he can never fasten guilt upon us. Every actual sin is in some degree voluntary: but some sins, in an eminent propriety and peculiar manner, may be called our own; such as there is a strong tendency to commit, either from the natural inclination, or custom, that is an accessary nature, or from special respects that engage the will and affections. As in the natural body composed of various members, some are more dear and useful, as the right eye, and the right hand: so "in the body of the sins of the flesh," as the corrupt nature is styled by the apostle, from the variety and union of the vicious affections, there are some particular lusts, either for pleasure or profit, are as "the right eye, or right hand," in our Saviour's language, so dear to men, that they will lose eternal life rather than be separated from them.
These reigning sins, that have a complete dominion in the unregenerate, are of different kinds in several persons. I will proceed in the discovery of them.
1. By a direct light, from their causes.
2. By a reflex light, from their effects. The causes of special sins are either natural or moral: the natural are the different temperaments of men's bodies, and the connexion of the passions, that so strongly draw the will, that we may as certainly understand what vicious actions are naturally consequent, as astronomers foretel the eclipses of the lights of heaven.

I. I will begin with the consideration of the different temperaments of men's bodies, which are the secret springs of their inclinations and aversions. It is requisite to premise, that original sin, the poison distilled through all the faculties of man by propagation, is an universal supreme evil: It is a seminary of all corrupt desires, from whence the issues of actual sins are derived: and that some are less inclined to notorious sins than others, is not from naked nature, but from the singular distinguishing mercy of God.
This depravation, so general and deplorable, was observed by the wiser heathens, who were ignorant of the cause of it, the rebellious sin of Adam, the common father and representative of mankind. This corruption of nature doth not extenuate, but aggravate our guilt: as the psalmist with deep sorrow acknowledges his native inherent pollution; "In sin was I conceived, and in iniquity brought forth." I know, many bold inquiring wits have presumed to examine the decrees of God concerning the lapsed state of mankind: but it is much safer to admitre the divine providence, than to argue; to believe the revelation, than to dispute against it.
But although the corrupt nature virtually includes all sin, yet there is not an equal propensity to all in every, person: as in waste neglected grounds, some weeds are ranker and rifer than others, from the quality of the soil; so some kinds of sin are more predominant and evident in the lives of man, according to their peculiar dispositions.
For the unfolding this, we are to consider, that the soul of man in its state of union, has a continual dependance upon the body, both in its intellectual and moral operations. Consider it as a spirit, and in its separate state, it is capable of acting as freely and independently as those pure intelligencies that are distant from alliance with gross matter: but consider the 'spirit as a soul consociated with a body of flesh, there is a strange circling influence between the soul and the body: the dispositions of the body suitably incline the soul, and the inclinations of the soul affect the body. In the intellectual operations as the animal spirits are qualified, some are of subtile and quick wits, others of stayed and solid minds; some are fit for contemplation, others for action. And in moral actions the soul works by the active power of the sensitive faculties, and the actions resemble the instruments. The complexion of our minds as well as manners is usually suitable to our natural temperature. I will more distinctly unfold this. In the human body there is the united figure of the world, the heavy earth, the liquid water, the subtile air, and active fire enter into its composition: from the mixture of these ingredients, results the temperature of the bodies; and as the qualities proper to them are predominant, men are denominated sanguine or melancholy, choleric or phlegmatic: such as the constitution is, such are the inclinations, and such are the actions that flow from them. It is observable, that brute creatures are either fierce or tame, bold or fearful, stupid or docile, as their blood is hotter or colder, of a finer or thicker contexture. And in children there is an early disclosure of contrary dispositions according to their temperaments: thus some are soft and ductile, others stiff and stubborn; some are of a sweet pliable temper, drawn by counsel and the cords of love; others of a baser cast, will not be led by reason and kindness, but must be constrained by fear; some are of an ingenuous disposition, blushing at any thing that is indecent and disparaging; others defy all modesty, and will not change countenance though surprised in a foul action. As the inclination in animals to actions proper to their kind, is discovered by their offers before they are fit for action: birds will attempt to fly before their wings are formed; so in children, inclinations to particular vices appear according to their different constitutions, before their sensitive faculties are capable of complete acts.
More particularly, those persons in whose complexion blood is predominant, are usually light and vain, sensual and riotous, insolent and aspiring, bold and presumptuous: those in whom phlegm ie the principal ingredient, are idle and slow, cold and careless in things of moment; the most ardent exhortations are lost upon them, as bags of wool deaden the force of bullets, in yielding without resistance. Those who are timorous and deeply tinctured with melancholy, are suspicious, sour, and inexorable.
The dark shadows of their minds are believed as visible testimonies of dangers; and their silent suspicions as real proofs. They are jealous of all persons and things: if in conversation there be speech of the virtues they are conscious to want, or the vices they are secretly guilty of, they imagine it is directed to their reproach. They are intractable, and often revengeful; for melancholy is a vicious humour that retains the impressions of the passions. Those who are choleric by nature, are heady, various, violent, and create perpetual trouble to themselves and others. Such a soul and such a body united, are like two malefactors fastened with one chain. In short, according to the elemental crasis of our bodies, objects affect our senses, and the fancy, with the lower appetite, are the centre of the senses, and there is so near an activity and reference between the passions and the reasonable faculties, that the understanding and will receive impressions accordingly, as the passions are excited and moved.
It is observable, that the corrupt nature in the languge of scripture, is usually called flesh, not only as it is transmitted by carnal propagation, but as it is drawn forth by carnal objects, and exercised by the carnal faculties. And as the same constitution is heightened in some, and in a remisser degree, in others, so the lusts proper to it are more or less exorbitant; as the same sort of vines produce a stronger or weaker grape, according to the quality of the air and soil wherein they are planted. That vicious inclinations spring from the different temperament of men's bodies, there is a pregnant proof in the visible diversity of lusts that are peculiar in degrees of eminence in some families, some countries, and several ages of men's lives. We often see hereditary vices transmitted by descent: some families are voluptuous, others vindictive; some sordid and covetous, others profuse; some ambitious, others servile, resembling their parents, from whom the secret seeds of those dispositions are ingenerate in their temper. So in different climates, according to the impression made on the natives by the air and diet, they are distinguished by their proper vices (not so generally found in other nations) as by their countenances: some are formal and superstitious, others wild and barbarous; some are crafty and treacherous, others are wanton and luxurious. As some diseases reign in some countries, that are less frequent, and not so fatal in other places. The apostle tells us of the Cretians, that "they are always liars, evil beasts, and slow bellies;" their habitual vices fastened this universal character upon them.
And according to the alteration made in the bodies of men in the several ages of life, their vicious affections run in several channels: the spring is the same, corrupt nature; and the issue will be the same, the lake of fire; but the course is different. St. John distinguishes the corrupt inclinations that are predominant in the world, under three titles, "The lusts of the flesh, and the lusts of the eyes, and pride of life:" 1 John 2. these lusts have their proper seasons, and successively take the throne in men's hearts.
In youth, the lusts that in propriety are called the "Lusts of the flesh," imperiously reign. Youth is a kind of natural drunkenness, the blood runs races, and with a heat and rapture hurries many into sensual excess and riots. Youth is highly presumptuous, easily deceived, and refractory to reason: the superior faculties, the understanding and will, are basely servile to the carnal appetites. The wise preacher intimates this in his bitter irony; "Rejoice, O young man in thy youth, and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thy heart, and in the sight of thine eyes: but know, for all these things. God will bring thee to judgment." Eccles. 11. Vain mirth, and loose desires, are usually indulged in the spring of our age: therefore the apostle emphatically warns Timothy, though a mortified young man, "Flee youthful lusts."
In the maturer age, the sensual passions are cooler, less vigorous and active, and youthful lusts are changed for other lusts that are not so scandalous, and leave not such a visible stain, but are as destructive to the soul. It is very observable in human nature, that as the affections in. their sensible operations decay, the understanding improves and recovers its ruling power: it is visible in many instances, that men in their staid age despise those things that had a ravishing force upon them in their unsettled youth. But when the mind is tainted with a false esteem of present things, (as it is in all those who are in a state of polluted nature) it leads the will and affections to pursue riches and dignities. Carnal wisdom is distinguished by St. James into three kinds; it is "earthly, sensual, devilish," with respect to the tempting objects in the world, riches, pleasures, honours. The sensual wisdom is in contriving and appointing the means that may accomplish the desires of the flesh. After the flesh is satisfied, the earthly wisdom designs earthly things, and uses such means as are fit to obtain them: to ascend in power and command, or to raise estates, with wretched neglect of the kingdom of heaven and its righteousness, that should be sought in the first place, and with the most ardent affections and endeavours. In conjunction with this, the devilish wisdom, is practised; for pride and ambition are satan's original sin, as envy and slander are his actual sins. He is continually vexed at the recovery, of fallen man, and is his constant accuser. And whilst men are eagerly contending for the world, they are excited from interest and envy, to blast and defeat their concurrents that would be superior or equal to them. This worldly wisdom, though a more solemn folly, yet is as woful and pernicious as the sensual wisdom; for God is injuriously robbed of his right, our highest esteem and affections; and men deceived with the poor pageant of the world, neglect their last and blessed end, and justly perish for ever.
Old age has its peculiar vices. It is true, it mortifies the affections to some vanities. Vespasian the Roman emperor was so tired with the pomp of his triumph, that in the triumphant way, he often reproached himself, that being an old man he was engaged in such an empty and tedious nhow. And Charles the fifth, in his declining age, preferred the shade of a cloister before the splendour of the empire. But it is attended with other vicieus inclinations. Old men are usually querulous, impatient, discontented, suspicious, vainly fearful of contempt or want: and from thence, or some other secret cause, are covetous and sordid in sparing against all the rules of reason and religion. Covetousness is styled by the apostle, "The root of all evil;" and as the root in winter retains the sap, when the branches have lost their leaves and verdure, so in old age, the winter of life; covetousness preserves its vigour when other vices are fallen off. Usually the nearer men approach to the earth, they are more earthly-minded, and which is strange to amazement, at the sunset of life, are providing for a long day. Briefly, every age has its special vices suitable to the constitution of men's bodies in them, and we must accordingly make our inquiry to discover our own sin.
The connexion of the passions duly observed, will discover the predominant lust. The passions are the motions of the sensitive appetite, whereby the soul approaches to an object that is represented under the pleasant colours of good, or flies from an apprehended evil. They are called passions, because in those motions there is a flowing or ebbing of the spirits and humours, from whence a sensible change is caused in the body, and the soul is in unquiet agitations. It is very difficult to know their original, though the sensible operations are very evident: consider the soul as a spirit, it is exempt from them; the spirit, as a soul, is liable to them. Whether they are derived from the soul to the body, or from the body to the soul, is hard to determine. They are of excellent use, when subordinate to the direction:of the renewed mind, and the empire of the sanctified will: when in rise, degrees, and continuance, they are ordered by the rule of true judgment. What the winds are in nature, they are in man: if the air be always calm without agitation, it becomes unhealthful, and unuseful for maintaining commerce between the distant parts of the world: moderate winds purify the air, and serve for navigation. And thus our voluble passions are of excellent use, and when sanctified, transport the soul to the divine world, to obtain felicity above. But when they are exorbitant and tempestuous, they cause fearful disorders in men, and are the causes of all the sins and miseries in the world. From hence it is that sin in the scripture is usually expressed by lust; "The lusts of the flesh are manifest: those who are Christ's, have crucified the flesh, with the affections and lusts thereof." Gal. 5. "Every man that is tempted, is tempted of his own lust." Jam. 1. The reason is, because the corrupt desires of the soul, when inflamed, are the springs of its actings, and strongly engage the mind and will, and all the active powers, to procure their satisfaction.

Now sin being the obliquity of the desiring faculty, we may discover what is the predominant sin, by considering what affection is most ardent and violent, and consequently most depraved and disordered: and this we may, by observing the connexion between them? for they generate one another. As the diseases of the body, though the disorder of nature, yet have certain causes, and a regular course in their accession, inflammation, and revolution: as in the changes of an ague, a shivering cold is attended with a fiery heat, and that with an overflowing sweat; in like manner the irregular passions are productive of one another. Love is the radical affection, and when it leads to a desired object, has always hatred in the rear, if disappointed and crossed in its desires: so joy in the fruition of a dear object, is attended with grief, that lies in ambush, and immediately seizes upon the soul when the object is withdrawn. And as in the vibrations of a pendulum, the motion is always as strong in proportion one way, as it was the other: so according to the excess of love, will be the excess of grief. Of this we have an eminent instance in David, whose sorrow for the death of his rebellious son was as immoderate, as his love the cause of it.

2. I shall now consider the moral causes of habitual sins, the various circumstances of our lives, that are influential to give a custom to nature, and viciousness to custom. As the sea has rocks and sands, gulphs and currents, tempests and calms, so the present life has symbolically in its different states, that endanger us in our passage to the next world. The different conditions of life I will consider under four heads.
1. The several callings wherein men are engaged.
2. The opposite states of prosperity or adversity that are attended with suitable temptations.
3. The society with whom we are conversant.
4. The quality of the times wherein we live.

1. Let us search for the predominant sin in the callings wherein we are engaged; for according to their quality, temptations surround us, and are likely to surprise us. The spider spins his web, where flies usually pass to entangle and destroy them: so the subtile tempter lays his snares in our callings wherein we are conversant. John the Baptist therefore, when the publicans addressed to him for instruction, "Master, what shall we do? said to them, exact no more than what is appointed you: and to the soldiers he said, do violence to no man, neither accuse any falsely; and be content with your wages:" he warns them against rapine, and force, and injurious accusing others, of which sins publicans and soldiers were usually guilty. I will, to be the more instructive, particularly consider some callings, and the sins that evidently attend them.
The sacred calling of ministers does not secure them from temptations; but such is the corruption of their hearts, and of the world, that it exposes them to dangerous temptations. The devil scales us on the temple-side, and often gets possession of our hearts. Ministers are often guilty of a spiritless formality in the managing holy things. In the composing of sermons, the mind is exercised about the matter, order, and expressions, without holy affections suitable to divine truths: partly, because from custom the most solemn and concerning things pass through the soul without serious regard and application; and partly, because the ministerial office obliging us to furnish ourselves with the knowledge of the admirable mysteries of godliness for the instruction of others, we are apt to make that the only end of our studies; like vintners that buy great quantities of wine for sale, and not for their own use. There is not in many ministers a spark of that heavenly fire which the reflective meditation on spiritual and eternal truths inspires into the soul, which our Saviour came to kindle. Their knowledge is not lively and operative, but like a winter's sun that shines without vital heat. If they are enriched with rare talents, they are apt to profane that holy ordinance of preaching, by secret aims and desires of vain-glory: the temptation is more dangerous, because esteem and praise for intellectual excellencies that are peculiar to man, and wherein the eminence of his nature consists, are very pleasing, even to those who are of an unspotted conversation, and free from carnal pollutions.
Chrysostom confesses of himself, that when he preached to a thin auditory, his words died on his lips, and his spirit was quenched; but when he was encompassed with a numerous full assembly, his spirit was inflamed, and he breathed fire. The attention and applause of the hearers, the regarding one another with wonder, as if never man spake better, the reigning over the spirits of men by powerful oratory, are apt to inspire vain-glorious conceits into the preachers. And many carried along by the current of their injudicious auditors, are curious to bespangle their discourses with light ornaments, to please the ear, and are not studious to preach Christ and him crucified, in a style distant from all shadow of vanity, to save the soul.
Another temptation attending that holy calling is, from human passions, which ministers often bring up into the pulpit with them, and with a counterfeit zeal vent their animosities against those of whom they are jealous, as diminishing their secular interests. God under the law severely forbids the offering up sacrifices by common fire, but only by celestial, that was preserved day and night upon the altar by the priests: it is symbolical, that the reprehension of sinners by the servants of God, should not be expressed with heat of anger against their persons, but with holy zeal; that love to their souls should be the pure motive of the severest rebukes.
Lastly. The great danger is, lest ministers have a respect more to the temporal reward of their office, than the divine end of it. Therefore St. Peter with that solemnity enjoins evangelical pastors, "to feed the flock of God, taking the oversight thereof, not by constraint, but willingly; not for filthy lucre, but of a ready mind: neither to act as lords over God's heritage, but to be ensamples to the flock." 1 Pet. 5. 2, 3. It is true, the labourer is worthy of his reward; and "if we sow spiritual things, is it a great matter (as the apostle saith) if we reap your carnal things?" 1 Cor. 9. 11. But though it is natural and regular to eat to live, yet to live to eat is prodigiously brutish; so it is a most guilty vile intention to use the sacred ministry for obtaining secular things. This will corrupt the heart, and hinder the discharging the office with sincerity and constancy: for the end is the rule and measure of the means, and a worldly minister will frame his sermons, and order his affairs to obtain the world. If it be for his secular interest, he will appear as an apostle, 'full of zeal against errors and sins: but if the preaching the doctrines of truth and holiness be prejudicial to his worldly designs, he will neglect his duty to preserve the minds of men untainted from destructive errors, he will mollify the threatenings of scripture, rebate their edge, and thereby harden the hearts of presumptuous sinners. As it is observed of the vines, if they are supported upon crooked stakes, they will grow so; so carnal preachers will conform themselves according to the humours of those upon whom they servilely depend.
In courts of judicature, the temptations are intimated in the wise advice of Jethro to Moses, "that he should choose men fearing God, and hating covetousness." Without the overruling fear of God, judges will not do their duty evenly and courageously: human respects will tempt them to bend the rule to the obliquity of their minds and desires. When they are influenced by the fear or favour of men, they will part with justice, and conscience, and true honour, and their souls. And how often does the weight of gold turn the scales in judgment, and preponderate the reason of the cause with those who are most solemnly obliged to universal rectitude in the discharge of their office? Judges should so impartially, and with that noble resolution perform their duty, as to discourage all attempts to pervert them. Zeuxes having painted a boy carrying some grapes, so coloured according to nature, that the birds pecked at them: an observer said, the birds discredited the picture; for if the boy had been drawn with equal life, they had not been so bold to fly at the grapes; a sign they fancied the grapes true, and the boy painted. Thus whoever tempts those who sit in judicature to unworthy things, disgraces their dignity, and constructively declares that he esteems them to have an appearance of virtue without sincere zeal for it. And how many who are pleaders, by fallacious colours commend a bad cause, and discredit a good, and thereby expose themselves to that terrible denunciation, "woe be to them that call good evil, and evil good." A degenerous mind, and mercenary tongue, will plead any cause to obtain the ends of avarice and ambition: as if, according to what an Italian lawyer said of himself, they were the advocates of their clients, and not of justice.
In short, every calling has its temptations: in the various ways of commerce, there are deceitful arts which an upright man observes and abhors. Some callings expose to more temptations than others; so that without circumspection and care, men are undone in the way of their callings. Some engage persons in such a throng of business, that from one rising of the sun to another, they never seriously remember God or their soul. It is therefore a point of great wisdom in the choice of a calling, with a free judgment to consider what is least liable to temptations, and affords more freedom of serving God, and regarding our spiritual state; for the body is not the entire man, and the present life is not his only duration. The apostle directs christians to choose such a state of life, that they may have the advantage oT "attending upon the Lord without distraction." 2 Cor. 7. 35.
I shall add, that the several relations wherein we stand, as husbands, parents, masters, and wives, children, servants, have peculiar temptations; and many whose general conversation seems fair and blameless, are not observant of their relative duties. A husband may be harsh and unkind, a parent fond and viciously indulgent, (it was Eli's sin that brought ruin upon his family) a master may be severe and rigorous. Superiors who are to instruct and govern families by holy counsels and examples, often neglect their duty; and by their evil carriage, set a copy which their children and servants transcribe, and derive a woful guilt upon themselves from their multiplied sins. And how often are those in lower relations careless of their proper duties: wives disrespectful, and not observant of their husbands, children disobedient, servants unfaithful? If conscience be enlightened and tender, it will regard the whole compass of our duty, it will see and feel our sinful neglects in any kind, and make us careful according to the extent of its obligation.

2. The opposite states of prosperity and adversity, have suitable temptations adherent to them.
Prosperity is beset with the thickest and most dangerous temptations. In a garden the tempter lay in ambush, and made use of the fruit "that was pleasant to the taste, and pleasant to the eye, and desirable for knowledge;" and by those allurements corrupted and ruined our first parents, to the loss of their innocence and felicity. Although prosperity be a blessing in itself, yet it is often more destructive, than adversity, by the inseparable and engaging snares that surround the persons that enjoy it: pride, luxury, security, impiety, grow and flourish in prosperity. Affliction calls home the wandering spirit, makes us reflect with solemnity upon ourselves, excites us to arm our minds with religious resolutions against the world ; whereas prosperity relaxes and dissolves the spirit, and foments the lusts of the flesh. Those who live in the courts of princes, where the height of honour, and the centre of pleasure are, where ambition, hypocrisy, avarice, and sensuality reign, are encircled with dangerous inchantments, and usually are charmed and corrupted by them. The court life is splendid to the eye, but very perilous; like a ship that is finely carved and painted, but so leaky, that without continual pumping it cannot be kept above water; so without the strictest guard over their hearts and senses, the prosperous cannot escape the "shipwreck of a good conscience, and fall into many foolish lusts that drown men in perdition." Yet this state of life many aspire to as the most happy. When Lot separated from Abraham, he chose the "pleasant fruitful country that was like the garden of the Lord." Gen. 13. Sad choice! the land was the best, but the inhabitants the worst: within a short time the cry of their sins reached as high as the throne of God, and brought down showers of fire and brimstone, that turned that natural paradise into a hell.
Riches have a train of temptations, and poverty is not exempt from them. It was the wise prayer of Agur, "give me neither poverty nor riches, lest I be full and deny thee, and say, who is the Lord? Or lest I be poor and steal, and take the name of my God in vain." Prov. 30. 8, 9. A full estate entirely possesses the heart, and excludes the eternal world from the thoughts and affections: it is therefore wise advice," if riches increase, set not your heart upon them," intimating they are a snare to the most in the corrupt state. They often induce in men's minds an ungrateful oblivion of their divine Benefactor, as it is charged upon Israel, "their hearts were exalted, therefore they have forgotten me." They incline men to presume upon self-sufficiency, and to rob God of the homage that is due from his creatures, an humble thankful dependence upon his providence every day. The psalmist saith, "they trust in the wealth, and boast themselves in the multitude of their riches." They are engaging snares to renounce religion, whenever the sincere, and open professsion of it, exposes our estates to hazard. Briefly, as the Israelites made an Egyptian idol of their Egyptian jewels) so worldly things are abused for worldly lusts. The most who enjoy prosperity, perish by the abuse of it: it is a rare effect of divine grace to preserve the heart and conversation pure in such a contagious air, when a thousand fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand. And the contrary state of poverty and affliction in any kind, if sharp, has its peculiar temptations; discontent, and the use of unlawful means to obtain what they want and desire, is the sin of the poor.' The afflicted are ready to faint under the weight of sorrow: the loss of one comfort blasts all the content of their lives. There is a perpetual consumption of their thoughts and time in revolving the afflicting circumstances of their condition, and they are apt to think as if God were regardless or very severe to them. Fearful depth! they wretchedly neglect the means that might alleviate their sorrows, and refuse to be comforted, as if they were persons consecrated to calamity; thus life is lingered out in continual languishings, or ended with deadly grief.
If the affliction be singular and extraordinary, sorrow often increases to such dismal degrees, that most woful effects proceed from that passion. The anguish of spirit either breaks out in unkindly and unholy expressions, or inwardly festers with repining, vexatious thoughts at their condition. Stubborn spirits are impatient of the evils they suffer, and insensible and undervaluing of the blessings they possess. They neither look upward to the hand of God that disposes all evils, nor inward to their sins, the most righteous procuring cause of them: but serious reflection would constrain them to acknowledge that God punishes them less than their sins deserved, and that their dross needed the vehemence of the fire to purge it away: a meek yielding ourselves, and a complying with the blessed ends of his afflicting providence, will make us to understand by experience, that all our sharpest sufferings were most wisely and divinely ordered by our heavenly Father.

3. We must search for our peculiar sin in the society with whom we are conversant. Our company that we choose, and are frequently engaged with, discovers us to others and may to ourselves. It is a true glass that by reflection makes visible the countenance and complexion of our minds. Love proceeds from likeness, and the election of friends from a correspondence in the tempers of men. It is true, there may be foreign motives of friendship and commerce, with others from our secular affairs and interests; but inclination is the internal cause of friendship. It is visible, that carnality in its various kinds, cements friendships: the intemperate, the lascivious, the worldly, are endeared to one another by the resemblance in their minds and manners. Besides, examples, if often in our view, and especially of those whom we love, have a strange power to change us into their likeness. It is the observation of the wise man, "he that has fellowship with a proud man, will be like him." The vicious affections of the heart transpire in words and actions, and insensibly infect others: and in familiar society the contagious evil the more strongly infects, being immediately conveyed. If our intimate friends are worldly wise, who "mind earthly things," sagacious to forecast advantages, and active to accomplish their designs, we may judge of the strain of our affections; for if our "conversations were in heaven," if our frequent and serious discourses were of things above, how to improve spiritual riches, our company would be ungrateful to them :without sympathy there can be no complacence in society. The garlic and onions of the Egyptian. earth, is more tasteful to their palates than the bread of angels. Besides, by constant familiarity our minds are apt to be corrupted to value the world as our substantial felicity, and our hearts to be corrupted with the love of it, which is of the spring of men's sins and misery. Thus if we are associates with the voluptuous, there will steal into the heart an allowance of sensuality, and a dislike of holiness as a sour severity. If unregenerate men, though of a civil conversation, be our chosen and familiar friends, our zeal for religion will decline, and lukewarmness be insensibly infused into us. Briefly, as the wax receives the figure of the seal that is applied fo it, our minds receive a likeness from the impressions of examples. Therefore a prudence discreet and severe is necessary in the choice of our society. In the human life there is no mistake more dangerous than in the choice of friends with whom we are usually conversant. It is a comprehensive rule and most useful for the guiding us safely to heaven, to select the wise and holy to be our bosom friends. As a ring touched by a loadstone draws another by an impressed virtue, so in holy society there is divine grace attractive of the hearts of others, "He that walks with the wise shall be wise; but a companion of fools shall be afflicted;" that is the penal consequence of being corrupted by them. The sensual and luxurious, by their converse, pervert good dispositions in others, and heighten evil inclinations into habits: they are satan's instruments to draw men into his snares, more familiar devils to tempt and destroy souls. He that chooses evil company, is like one that voluntarily frequents a house infected with the plague; who is either a fool and disvalues life, or desperate and seeks death.

4. We must consider the quality of the times we live in, to discover what sin is predominant in us. There are "evil days" in the apostle's language, with respect to the temptations and troubles that are concomitant with them, "and a wise circumspect walking" is requisite to preserve our innocence and purity. Sometimes those who are dignified with titles and powers, are leaders in sin, and their public practices are so commandingly exemplary, that they easily prevail upon many to follow them; for that is the way to insinuate into their favour, and obtain secular advantages and rewards. From hence it is that some, as if the opposite forms of religion were but different fashions of the same stuff, will put on a new livery according to the master they serve. They have a politic faith, you may coin them a Philip and Mary, or an Elizabeth, as the mintage of the times vary. But the example of the high and noble is no safe rule: a rule of gold, though of value for the matter, yet if crooked, it is useless as a rule. In some ages the poison sheds itself into the whole body of a nation, that rarely any are untainted. The old world was drowned in sensuality, and Noah only escaped. And in the next age, how did idolatry, like an overspreading leprosy infect the world, and Abraham hardly escaped. In Jeremy's time the land mourned for oaths and curses; men were turned breathing devils, and spake the language of hell before they came there. Sometimes all degrees are so corrupt, that vices pass for virtues, the rage of duelling for heroic valour, luxury and sensuality for innocent and amiable qualities, and holiness, though a divine excellency, and the very beauty of the Deity, is despised and derided: "thus men glory in their shame, and are ashamed of their glory." Now there is no tyranny more violent than of a corrupt custom, no contagion more catching than of national sins. The apostle reminds the Ephesians, that in their heathen state "they walked according to the course of the world." We are therefore strictly commanded, "not to be conformed to the world, but transformed by the renewing of our minds, that we may prove what is the good, the acceptable and perfect will of God." It is the eminent effect of grace to resist the torrent of the times, and to value the conscience of our duty before all worldly respects: accordingly it is recorded to the everlasting honour of Jehoshaphat, "that he walked in the commandments of God, and not according to the doings of Israel."

I come to show how the peculiar sin may be discovered from its effects, and the discovery from hence is more sensible, than from the causes; for divine grace may control the efficacy of the causes, that a Christian may abhor the sin to which there are strong temptations, but effects emergent from inward lusts, discover the habitual frame of the heart.
1st. The sin that is frequently and easily committed, and difficultly retracted, is a man's peculiar sin.
(1.) Frequently. Single acts do not denominate a person, but habits that proceed from repeated acts, are characteristical. Noah's single act of drunkenness, which might proceed from his ignorance of the strength of the wine, or the weakness of his brain, did not argue his being addicted to it: but frequent relapses into that sin, denominate a man a drunkard. A train of sinful actions is from a disposition strongly bent to them. If a man be of a choleric nature, anger will be his quotidian; if of a sanguine, licentious mirth will be his tertian. It is the character of man in his unregenerate polluted state, he commits sin, it is his trade; and as any particular lust has dominion in his heart, such is the course of his life. When the inclination leads to a calling, a man applies himself continually to it; for the work produces delight, and the delight strongly inclines him to work: thus according to the tendency of our corrupt natures is the constant practice of sin. We may as surely judge of the active powers of the soul by the actions that proceed from them, as of the vigour of the sap in the root, by the number of the fruits of the tree. It is said of the. scoffers, "they walk after their own lusts: which implies the habitual practice of sin, the licence and pleasure they take in a carnal course.
(2.) The Sin that is easily committed is our own. As the divine nature in a saint makes him fit for every good work, but especially for the exercise of that grace that is eminently regent in his heart, upon the fast call of conscience he applies himself to his duty: so the corrupt nature prepares men for evil works, and its special tendency is presently inflamed by a suitable object. This indication is clear, with respect to the sins of the desiring and angry appetites. The more quick and speedy the power of a temptation is, the more strong is the vicious inclination. When Achan saw a goodly Babylonish garment and a wedge of gold, he coveted them and took them: the immediate rise of his affection upon the presence of the object, his presumptuous sacrilege, notwithstanding the terrible interdict, was a convincing sign of his worldly mind. So it is said of the young man in the Proverbs, that was enticed by the blandishments of the harlot, "he went straightway after her." When the alluring object presently inveigles the senses, and easily obtains the consent of the will, we may truly infer what passion reigns in the heart. So a man that is soon angry, whose passion like tinder takes fire at a spark, a small occasion may understand what his nature is. A man, of "a cool spirit," of meek and mortified passions, is not easily incensed.
(3.) The sin that is difficultly retracted. There are principles of conscience in lapsed nature, concerning good and evil that cannot be rased out, and are improved and heightened by revealed light; from thence there is often an internal conflict between the convinced mind, and the corrupt heart: but the darling lust controls the efficacy of those principles, for nature and custom are of all things most hardly to be changed. Properties inherent in the nature of things are inseparable: thus wallowing in the mire is natural to a swine, and though washed, will return to it. When a lust is deeply rooted in nature, "men cannot cease from sin." We have a sad instance of this in St. Austin, before his entire and blessed conversion. He declares in his confessions, how extreme hard if was to divorce himself from sensual delights; they were incarnated in his nature, engrafted into his affections, and the separation from them was as the flaying him alive. When he prayed for chastity, it was with a restriction, "Make me chaste, but not too soon:" in the vigour of his age, the sinning season, he was averse to be weaned from those poisonous breasts. Until divine grace changed his nature, he could never rescue himself from the entanglements of his iniquity.
Custom in sin usually proceeds from inclination; and with as strong a sway determines the corrupt will as original nature. "Can the Ethiopian change his skin, and the leopard his spots? then may you who are accustomed to do evil do good." Dreadful difficulty! some habitual sinners are secure and stupid, and of such depraved obstinacy, that they will not resolve to cleanse themselves from their defilements. In others there are some sparks of religious fear; but notwithstanding the stings of conscience, continue in the practice of sin. The charming lust so long indulged, is imperious and peremptory; and till omnipotent grace unbinds the charm, they are never released from the circle of confessing their sins when their desires are sated, and committing them with new heat and rapture upon the returning temptation. Though convictions be heightened into resolutions, the next temptation hinders the effect: they rescind their solemn and sacred engagements, prefidiously break double chains, the law of God with their own vows, grieve his spirit and wound their own; from hence it is evident that such sins are properly men's own.

2nd, That lust to which others are subservient, has the supremacy in the heart. In all the dominions of satan, there is some special lust that is his viceroy, and keeps possession for him. There is an order in the kingdom of darkness, one sin wants the assistance and countenance of another sometimes to disguise and palliate it, or for the doing it. The reigning sin has, as it were, its court and council, its guard and attendants. To illustrate this by its contrary, it is observable there is a concatenation of virtues, and the superior virtue is assisted by other virtues in its exercise: as justice in dispensing what is due to others, is assisted by fortitude and temperance, which regulate fear and desire, that often hinder its most noble exercise: and the actions immediately flowing from courage or temperance, are ascribed to justice, to which they are subservient; for the end and intention constitute the kinds in the ranks of moral things, either virtues or vices. It is the observation of the philosopher, that one who does an act of robbery that he may have money to corrupt a woman, is not so much covetous as incontinent. Joseph's brethren sold him into Egypt, dipped his garment in blood to deceive their father, and thereby contracted a crimson guilt; but cruelty and hypocrisy were subordinate to their envy: they hated him, because the father's love to them was faint in comparison to the warm beams reflected upon Joseph.

3rd. The darling corruption engrosses the thoughts. There is a natural levity and featheriness in the mind, a strange inconsistency and discurrency of the thoughts, but love will fasten them intensely upon its object. From hence it is that habitual and delightful thoughts are the best discovery of our hearts and our spiritual state. Words and actions may be overruled and counterfeit for divers reasons, but thoughts are the invisible productions of the soul, and without fear or mask, without restraint or disguise, undissemblingly discover the disposition of the heart. Thoughts are the immediate offspring of the soul; and as the waters that immediately flow from the spring are strongest of the mineral, so the thoughts are most deeply tinctured with the affections. A saint is therefore described by his "meditating in the law of God day and night," Psalm 1. which is the natural and necessary effect of his delight in it. Uncounterfeit religion and holiness consist in the order of love, as St. Austin briefly and fully describes it. The will is carried to its object and end by the motion of love, and love applies the mind entirely to the object to which it is strongly inclined. When the heart is corrupt, the ordinary current of the thoughts is in the channel of our lusts. The contriving thoughts, the devices of the mind, the contemplative thoughts and inward musings are conversant about the beloved lust that engages the mind to it. Thus when covetousness is the reigning passion, the mind is in continual exercise to compass secular ends: it is full of projects how to order the means most successfully to increase riches, and how to remove whatever may obstruct the main design. The spirit is captivated, and like a drudge in a mill is continually grinding for the satisfaction of the earthly appetite. When the more sensual voluptuous passions are predominant, the contriving thoughts are to make "provisions for the flesh to satisfy the lusts thereof." Rom. 13. 1. The understanding is debased to be the pander and caterer for the intemperate and incontinent appetites. The ambitious spirit lays the scene how to obtain his desired honour, and forecasts how to ascend to some place of eminence: so anger soured into revenge, envies at the excellencies and advancements of others, turns the mind to plot mischief.
The contemplative thoughts and musings of the mind, are also fixed on the darling lust. As a holy believer, in whose heart the desire of enjoying God in heaven is the supreme affection, frequently ascends in his mind thither, and by solemn serious thoughts substantiates his future happiness, and has an unspeakably glorious joy in the lively hopes of it: thus the unrenewed heart turns the thoughts to the desired object, either in representing it in all its charms, or in reflections upon the enjoyment of what is past, or in expectation of what is to come, and pleases itself with the supposition instead of fruition, A proud person entertains vain-glorious thoughts of his own worth, and worships the vain idol himself: in his mind he repeats the echoes of praise, that his foolish flatterers lavish upon him. It is recorded of Nebuchadnezzar, that as he walked in his palace, he said, "is not this great Babylon that I have built, for the house of the kingdom, by the might of my power, and for the honour of my majesty?" His high towering words were the expression of his thoughts, and discovered pride to be the reigning passion of his heart. The sensual wretch surveys his carnal paradise, and personates the pleasures of sin by impure imaginations: his fancy runs riotously over tempting beauties: by an active contemplation he contracts a new stain, and induces a new guilt upon himself: he commits the same sin a thousand times, by renewing the pleasant thoughts of it, and by carnal complacence in the remembrance.
In the silence of the night, when a curtain of darkness is drawn over the visible world, and the soul not diverted by sensible objects, is most free in its operations, then the thoughts are con- versant about the beloved sin. It is said of the malicious and revengeful, "they plot mischief upon their beds." The rich fool was contriving how to bestow his fruits and goods, and entertaining himself with the thoughts of festival voluptuous living, in the night wherein his soul was required. And in the morning the virgin thoughts are prostituted to the beloved lust. In the time of divine worship, when, the pure majesty and special presence of God should unite the thoughts, and compose the soul to a holy solemn frame, then the beloved lust will be so impudent and outrageous as to break into the mind, the chamber of presence, and seat itself there. As Lot's wife led by an angel out of Sodom, turned a lingering eye towards it, so the carnal heart, even in religious service and addresses to God, reflects upon the sinful object, that has an attractive force upon it. It is charged against those fine hypocrites in Ezekiel; "they sit before thee as my people, and hear thy words, but they will not do them; for with their mouth they show much love, but their heart goeth after their covetousness." Ezek. 33. 31. It is reckoned as an high aggravation of their guilt, "yea in my house have I found their wickedness, saith the Lord." Jer. 23. 11. The familiar lust will haunt men in the divine presence. This makes them cold and careless in holy duties: this makes their devotion so faint and dilute, that God is infinitely provoked by them. In short, the darling lust does so entirely and intensely fix the mind upon it, that men's accounts are dreadfully increased by the swarms of wicked thoughts that defile their souls: and in the day of judgment, that is called the "day of revelation," there will be a discovery made to their everlasting confusion.

4th. The sin men desire to conceal from others, and from conscience, and are apt to defend or extenuate, and are impatient of reproof for it, has a special interest in their affections. Every sinner is a master of this art, to counterfeit the virtues he wants, and dissemble the vices that he allows. It is the observation of Solomon, "God made man upright, but he sought out many inventions;" especially to palliate and hide, or to excuse his faults. Sin in its native deformity is so foul, that men employ a great deal of art and study, either to conceal it under a veil of darkness, or a deceitful mask of virtue, or by various excuses to lessen its guilt and ignominy. Adam patched up an apron of fig-leaves to cover his nakedness, a resemblance of his care to hide his sin. David could not expect to deceive God; but to hide his adultery with Bathsheba from men, he sends for Uriah from the army, that he might have gone home to his wife. It is observed of Caesar and Pompey, whose ambitious spirits aspired to sovereign power, they made use of some ensigns of royalty, to accustom the people by degrees to them, yet were crafty to hide their design. Caesar sometimes appeared publicly with a wreath of laurel on his head; but lest the people from his wearing that appearance of a crown, should be jealous of his intention, pretended it was only to supply his want of hair, and cover his baldness. Pompey wore a white fillet curiously wrought about his leg, in pretence that his leg was hurt; but in truth, because it was a diadem, a royal ornament, for which he was reproached by some strict observer. There are innumerable arts used to cover men's respective sins. I shall only instance in one that is usually practised: how do many, like the crafty lapwing that flutters at a distance from its nest, appear zealous against the visible sins of others, that tinder that shadowy deceit they may hide their own? Their words, feathered with severe censure, fly abroad, wounding the reputation of others for lesser faults, that they may not be suspected to be guilty of worse sins secretly cherished by them.
But if the beloved sin be evident, satan assists the corrupt mind to frame such colourable pretences either to defend or excuse it, that it may not appear in a ghastly manner, attended with strict judgment and an everlasting hell. When a lust has enticed and drawn away the will, the mind is engaged to give colour to the consent, and either directly, or in an oblique way to represent the sin, that it may appear less odious and more amiable. Sometimes the understanding is so perverted by the impression of pleasure, that conscience allows concupiscence. It is a repeated observation of a wise philosopher, that vices were disguised under the resemblance of virtues, and virtues disparaged under the names of vices; from whence the understanding and will, the mind and manners were depraved, and shame was cast upon the virtuous, and boldness given to the vicious. Profuseness is styled magnificence, violence valour, dissoluteness gentility, fraud and craft prudence. On the contrary, sincerity is blasted with the name of folly, patience reputed stupidity, and conscience superstition. The proud will set off the lofty humour and carriage as a decent greatness of spirit, and vilify the humble as low and sordid. The choleric will engage reason to justify his passion; he will alledge the provocation would anger an angel. The lukewarm in religion, will represent lukewarmness as a discreet temperament between the vicious extremes of a wildfire zeal, and a profane coldness and neglect. The earthly-minded will put flattering colours on covetousness, to make it appear a praise-worthy virtue, a prudent provision for time to come. If men are quite destitute of defence, they will by a mild construction extenuate the guilt of their darling sin. The incontinent person will make a canopy for his lust, as only a human frailty. The intemperate will excuse his excess, as free mirth and harmless society. Many apologies are made for the sins men indulgently commit; some will plead in excuse, a prone necessity of nature; some, the custom of the places they live in; some, their unsettled youth; any thing that may lessen the turpitude m the view of conscience, or in the opinion of others. Now pleading argues love, and love denominates the sin to be their own. From hence it is that so many contract a desperate hardness, and are irrecoverably depraved. But if men cannot hide or excuse their beloved sin, they are impatient of reproof for it, and with secret discontent, or stormy passions, reject admonition. Seme of fair tempers and conversation, if a minister or friend be faithful to their souls, and with holy zeal urges the divorcing command of God between them and their pleasant sins, and represents sincerely the guilt of their sinful course of Hfe, they become fierce and vehement, and recoil upon their reprovers, as arrogating imperious authority, or for rigour and severity, or impertinence in admonishing them; and sometimes recriminate, that the reprover is as bad or worse himself: like a river that passes without noise, till it meets with the arches of a bridge that stops its free current, then it swells and roars. In short, the indulgent sinner will endeavour to defend his bosom sin, or to subdue his conscience that it may not torment him for it.

5th. The sin that the enlightened conscience reflects upon, with anguish and bitter remorse, is usually that which has been indulged, and whereby God has been most dishonoured. There is so deep an impression of the Deity in the soul, and our duty and accountableness, that it cannot be utterly defaced; and though the rebellious will and affections control it for a time, yet it remains for the conviction and punishment of delinquents. Conscience is a spy in our bosoms, and observes in order to a discovery; and what is written in its register cannot be rased out. It is true, a spirit of slumber sometimes seizes upon the wicked, and conscience is so stupified, that they sin without reflection and remorse; but there are times wherein conscience is roused up like a lion, and tears "them in pieces" according to the fearful threatening. This is sometimes done by the powerful preaching of the word: the apostle describes "the word of God" by its admirable efficacy; "It is quick and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder the soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart." When the word by a piercing application discovers the bosom sin, and the fearful judgment that attends it, so that the guilty cannot obscure the evidence of the one, nor avoid the terror of the other, then conscience bleeds afresh that was seared before. There is recorded a wonderful instance of this in the "Acts of the Apostles:" when Paul the prisoner "reasoned of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come," Felix trembled: the discoursing of those virtues that were directly contrary to his habitual enormities, ripped up his conscience to the quick, and struck into consternation that lofty sinner. From hence it is that many decline a sharp and searching ministry, which is always the token of a guilty heart. The word shining upon the conscience (like the reflection of the sun upon the waters that made them appear like blood) makes sins to appear in their crimson guilt, their bloody aggravations. Our Saviour tells us, that "the evil doer neither loves nor comes to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved." John 3. 20. When a powerful preacher, as a second conscience, as if he knew the hearts and ways of men, sets their sins in order before their eyes, and closely applies the threatenings of divine vengeance to them, conscience often joins with him, and as a faithful echo repeats the terrible truths to their conviction and anxiety.
In times of affliction, "when our sins find us out, we usually find out our sins." In full prosperity men are strangers at home, and rarely look inward: they will not endure the inquisition and judicature of conscience: wealth and wickedness harden them against the most serious counsels, the most solemn reproofs and ardent exhortations : tney are blind to the sun, and deaf to thunder; but a sharp affliction clears the eyes, unlocks the ears, opens the heart, and pricks the tender vein. The awakened penitent will make an exact search to find out the Achan, the troubler of the soul, and the special sin is so in the interpretation of the vigilant and afflicted conscience. The bitter remembrance of that sin is answerable to its guilt; the more it was indulged, the more the law of God was despised, the more it wounds the spirit : when the pleasure is passed, nothing remains but the sting and poison. Joseph's brethren, who so long had been insensible of their treacherous selling him to bondage and misery; yet in their fears conscience remembers it with aggravations of their unnatural cruelty: "And they said one to another, we are verily guilty concerning our brother, in that we saw the anguish of his soul, when he besought us, and we would not hear; therefore is this distress come upon us."

Lastly. Consider the several kinds of sins to find out your own: some are of omission, some of commission; some are spiritual and inward; some are carnal, and acted with noise and notice; some distinctly flow from visible causes; some spring from an unsuspected fountain. There are many of a civil composed conversation, who are careless of spiritual duties, of holy communion with God by raised solemn thoughts, and ardent desires, of watchfulness over their hearts, to regulate their aims and affections by the pure law, and are insensible of their neglect and guilt. The unrenewed nature has a 'strong reluctance against spiritual duties. Many are righteous to men, and unrighteous towards God; they do not pay those duties that are indispensably from reasonable creatures to the blessed Creator: the highest love for his perfections and benefits, an obedient respect to his commands in their actions, a resigned submission to his will and wisdom, an entire trust in his fatherly providence, and zeal for his glory. Many rob him of that time that is consecrated to his service: the Lord's Day, (though it is our privilege as well as duty to keep it holy) when the public worship is at an end, as if the remainder were unsanctified, they wretchedly waste in complimental visits, in civil matters, in discourses impertinent to the solemn work of it. Many who are diligent to provide for their families, yet are as bad as infidels in neglecting to instruct their children and servants in the saving doctrine of the gospel, to command them to be circumspect in their ways, to set before them a living pattern of holiness, and carelessly suffer their precious souls to perish for ever. How many who are not guilty of open rebellious sins against the law, yet neglect the great indispensable duty of the gospel, an humble, unfeigned, entire closing with Christ as their Prince and Saviour. They presume upon their moral virtues, of the safety and goodness of their condition: they never had a feeling sense of their want of the imputed righteousness of Christ to reconcile them to God, nor of the holy spirit to make them partakers of the divine nature; as if only the profane, riotous, notorious sinners, had need of his most precious merits and mediation to abolish their guilt, and save them from hell, and of the holy spirit to sanctify them. From hence it is that many civil persons remain in an unrenewed state, and are the natural subjects of satan, and die in their sins. Some are regular in a course of religious duties, they pray, hear the word, receive the sacrament, but without those holy affections that are the life of religious duties, yet content themselves with the external bodily service, which is neither pleasing to God nor profitable to their souls. Some cherish a secret pride that they are not so bad as others; some a vain presumption of the divine favour, because they serve God in a purer way of worship than others, when they neglect substantial religion that recommends us to his gracious eye. Some will severely reflect upon the visible sins of others, whilst there is an unperceived consumption of the spiritual life in themselves. This may seem to proceed from the hatred of sin, when the real inward motive is to quiet conscience by an appearance of zeal against sin, and make it inobservant of their inward voluntary defects. The most excellent things may be counterfeit, satan may transform himself into an angel of light; sinful affections may be varnished and gilded, so as to be mistaken for divine graces. Briefly, the heart is an everlasting deceiver, and without a perpetual watchfulness, we are in danger of close corruptions that will blast our sincerity. To find out our sin, it is requisite to search where we may think there is little reason to expect the finding it.

II. I will now consider what the preserving himself from his peculiar sin implies.
(1.) An abstaining from the practice of that sin. When David had an opportunity to destroy Saul, his unrighteous and implacable enemy, and secure himself, when, excited to it by Abishai, who would have dispatched him at a blow, yet he rejected the temptation with abhorrence; "The Lord forbid that I should stretch forth my hand against the Lord's Anointed;" 1 Sam. 26. 11. thus he preserved his innocence and integrity.
Our Saviour tells us, "He that commits sin, is. a servant of sin:" John 8. an indulgent course of sin denominates a person a slave of sin, and a rebel against God, and is utterly inconsistent with sincerity. It is true, an upright man may fall by sudden surreption, by an insinuating infirmity into a foul sin, from which he has a settled aversion, and keeps himself in the general course of his life: and that single act of sin is a blemish of his integrity, but retracted by a speedy repentance, does not denominate him a hypocrite. One may be pale from an accidental surprise by fear, or red through a sudden flush of blood from anger, yet not be so by complexion; for the complexions, pale and sanguine, are drawn by the pencil of nature, the lively characters of the predominant humours, and are usually visible in the countenance.
But although an upright person keeps himself from the gross acts of sins that are clearly against natural conscience, and supernatural grace; yet whilst we are clothed with flesh, the body of sin does not finally expire, and temptations are as importunate as flies about us, (from whom the tempter has his title) that it is morally impossible to be absolutely undented: therefore uprightness requires that we should carefully consider our weak side, what passions we are most inclinable to by our temper, and so diligently fortify ourselves against them, that they may not have dominion over us; and though we cannot arrive, yet we may advance towards the complete, conquest of sin. And in our endeavours against the sins to which we are most inclinable, and that often foil us, constancy is inseparable from sincerity. If we neglect the humbling of our souls for unavoidable infirmities, the earnest seeking for the divine mercy and grace, and a careful watching against them, we so far decline from uprightness,
(2.) It implies the mortifying the inward affection to that sin. The rule of our duty requires this : " Cleanse your hands ye sinners, purify your hearts ye double-minded." Jam. 4. 8. The will is the proper principle of sin, and from the depravation of the free faculty actual sins proceed. As the love of the subject-is the strength of the prince, so the love of any sin preserves its dominion. There may be a concurrence of circumstances to hinder the actual commission of sin, of which the heart is guilty. An unclean person, when separated from the object of his impure desires, may languish in his lusts, and by contemplative commission be guilty before God. * A malicious person may keep the fire of malice in his breast, without the least discovery by a spark or smoke in his words or actions, waiting for an opportunity that he may take his full revenge, and is a murderer in his wishes. The rapacious desire of another's goods without actual robbery, induces the guilt of theft. There may be an invincible bar between the sinful affection and the object.
Sickness or age may so waste the vigour of the body, that we cannot perform the gross acts of sin: but this abstinence has no moral value, for it only proceeds from the disability of the instrumental faculties. If one in a consumption leaves his revelling and licentiousness, it is no sign of divine grace, but of wasted nature. As in a sick person the appetite fails, "the soul abhors dainty meat;" Job. 33. but if he recovers, his appetite revives, and is more craving for his abstinence: thus many who could not enjoy their pleasant lusts in the time of diseases, being restored to strength, their vicious affections are reincited by new temptations, and with greater excess act over their old sins, as if they would pay interest for their impatient forbearance. An old sinner may retain and cherish the fire of lust in his heart, when age has snowed upon his head; as in mount Etna the sulphureous fire and snow are near together. But as the philosopher observes, if a young eye were put into an old man's head, he would see as clearly as ever. So if natural strength were restored in an unconverted sinner, he would be as ardent and active in prosecuting his carnal desires as before.
Terrors of conscience may stop the current of men's lusts: fear has torment, and is inconsistent with the pleasures of sin; the fear of visible vengeance, that sometimes strikes the wicked, or the apprehension of judgment to come, may control the licentious appetites from breaking forth into actual commission of sins. But as when the lions spared Daniel, it was not from the change of their wild devouring nature, for they destroyed his accusers immediately, but from the suspending their hurtful power: so when a strong fear lays a restraint upon the active powers, yet inward lust is the same, and would licentiously commit sin, were the restraint taken away.
The keeping ones self from sin, that is the sign of uprightness proceeds from the mortification of "the flesh, with the affections and lusts thereof." The apostle tells us, "carnal circumcision, without the circumcision of the heart, was of no avail to obtain the favour of God:" so the outward forbearance of sin without inward-purity, can never commend us to the divine acceptance. A rebel may be driven from the frontiers, but so long as he keeps the royal city, he is unsubdued: so if a lust keeps possession of the heart, though the executive powers may be retained or disabled from the outward acts, it still reigns.

III. I shall now prove that the keeping a man's self from his special sin, is an undeceiving evidence of sincerity.
1st. God approves it: "I was upright before him. God has not eyes of flesh, he doth not see as man sees." The deepest breast is as clear as crystal in his sight. He "weighs the spirits of men," and exactly knows what is true gold, and what is counterfeit. He is the searcher and judge of our hearts, and his approbation is the strongest seal of our uprightness. As God said to Abraham, "now I know thou fearest me, in that thou hast not withheld thy son, thine only son from me." Gen. 22. 12. So if we sacrifice at his command, the sin that is as dear to us as Isaac was to his father, the sin of our love and delight, the sin that is ours by choice and custom, then we shall hear the blessed testimony from heaven, that we love God in sincerity; he will own us as his friends. Sincere Christians can appeal to God in the psalmist's language, and with his affections; "Lord, search me, and try me, and see whether there be any way of wickedness in me:" they are not conscious of any indulged course of sin, which would make them fearful of his pure and piercing eye.
2nd. It will appear that the keeping ourselves from our peculiar sins, is an infallible proof of uprightness, by considering in what it consists. In scripture uprightness is equivalent to perfection and integrity, and opposite to guilt.
(1.) It is equivalent to perfection; "mark the perfect man, and behold the upright; for the end of that man is peace." Psal. 37-37. The absolute perfection of holiness is not attainable upon earth, none are refined to a height of purity without mixtures and allays: but according to the mitigation of the gospel, the saints, whose aims, desires, and endeavours are to obtain perfection, are accepted in the blessed Mediator as perfect. Now the indulgence of any darling sin, is utterly inconsistent with perfection in the mild sense of the gospel, and consequently with uprightness. This will be more evident, by considering, that uprightness is equivalent with integrity. The psalmist prays, "let integrity and uprightness preserve me." Integrity implies an uniform equal respect to all the divine commands. When conscience of our duty to God, and the reverence of his authority shining in his law, inclines us to obey all his Will, we are upright. Partial obedience that divides the precepts, and complies with those that are agreeing with our carnal affections and interest, and neglects the rest, is as inconsistent with sincerity as death and life. As the soul in the natural man is a vital principle from whence all the actions of life and sense proceed; so renewing grace is a principle of universal obedience. Herod "did many things gladly, upon the preaching of John the Baptist:" but he would not part with Herodias, his charming lust still had dominion in his heart. The young man observed other commands of the law, but when our Saviour tried his integrity, by commanding him "to sell all, and to give it to the poor, and he should have treasure in heaven;" it is said, "he went away sorrowful:" covetousness was his bosom sin, and blasted the sincerity of his obedience.
(2.) Uprightness is opposite to guile. Our Saviour gives this testimony of Nathaniel, "behold an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no guile;" a genuine son of Israel, whose character was sincerity. Guile implies a reserved affection for a particular sin, under a pretence of religious observing the divine law. The scripture sets forth by conjugal love, the dearest resemblance of the mutual love between Christ and his church. If a wife should take another besides her husband into her embraces, she is an adulteress, false to her husband; and all her amiable attractive society with him, is but the fine hypocrisy and pretence of love. Thus when one bosom sin is retained, the heart is false to God, notwithstanding the most specious devotion: the indulgent practice of one sin impeaches our integrity.
(3.) To this I shall add select examples of uprightness recorded in scripture. It is said of Noah, "he was a just man, and perfect in his generations: for when the whole world lay in wickedness, he preserved himself unspotted from their pollutions:" this was a noble testimony of his uprightness in the esteem of God. Joseph repelled the impure solicitations of his mistress with indignation: "how shall I do this great wickedness, and sin against God?" David when old, and his blood and spirits so frozen, that no clothes could warm him, that a fair young virgin lying in his bosom was not blemished by him, was not from divine grace, but wasted nature: but that Joseph in the vigour of his age, the sinning season, kept himself undefiled, was the sure symptom of sincerity. Job has this testimony from God, that "he was a perfect upright man:" and in the depth of his affliction, he tells his suspicious friends, "till I die, I will not remove my integrity from me: my heart shall not reproach me so long as I live;" Job 31. 4, 5, 6, 7. that is, of reigning hypocrisy of which they had accused him. His uprightness he proves by an induction: he preserved himself from the sin of his age: in his youth, when sensual lusts are impetuous, he "made a covenant with his eyes not to look upon a maid:" and for this reason, because he was under "the inspection and observance of God," he kept himself from the sins of his calling: he was a magistrate, and in the exercise of his office, "his foot never hasted to deceit, and no blot cleaved to his hand:' upon this he appeals to the enlightened tribunal above, "let me be weighed in the balance, that God may know my integrity.". He kept himself from the sins of his condition; for though high in dignity, yet so humble, "that he despised not the cause of his man-servant or maid-servant that contended with him:" though in full prosperity, yet so compassionate, that as a "father he fed the poor, and clothed the naked." He was so sensible of his dependant mutable state here, "that gold was not his hope, nor the fine gold his confidence:" and so heavenly and spiritual in his mind tand affections, "that he did not rejoice. Because his wealth was great, and because his hand had gotten much." This reflection upon the temper of his heart, and his deportment in his prosperous state, was the main assurance of his integrity.