gone back, since, in the way of the Lord not to go forward is always to turn back. And in fervour and devotion of spirit, is it well that thou art now removed farther from it than thou wert formerly?

Think of the careless sorrow thou hast shewn for thy sins; the little love, fear, and hope, thou hast felt towards Almighty God. The coldness of thy love, is shewn forth in the little thou doest for him; thy slight fear, in the many faults thou dost commit; and thy want of confidence in him, shews itself in the hour of tribulation, by the stormy passions which trouble thee, and in that time of sorrow, from thy heart not being firmly stayed with the sure anchor of hope.

Again, consider how feebly thou hast responded to divine inspirations; how rebellious thou hast been to the decrees of heaven; how thou hast grieved the Holy Spirit of God, and suffered his many calls in vain, for since thou wilt not mortify thine own will, thou canst not perform the holy will of God. He calls thee one way, thou goest another; he desires thee to perform some work for him, and thou straightway doest some other. Though thou seest clearly what is the will of thy heavenly Father, if thine own will is contrary to it, thou servest him after that will, and not after the manner in which he would have thee to serve him. Perhaps he calls thee to inward devotional exercises, thou immediately hast recourse to outward ones; he calls thee to prayer, thou dost immediately begin to read; he wills that thou shouldst attend to thine own soul, before that of any other, thou art forgetful of thyself, and settest aside thine own improvement for that of others, from whence it comes to pass that thou neither profitest thyself nor them.

Lastly, every time the divine will is contrary to thine, thine own is the conqueror, the divine will is the vanquished. Even supposing thou hast done some good work, how great, how manifold were its defects? Hast thou given thyself to prayer, how many have been thy distractions, how often hast thou been wearied and slothful, without due reverence for the divine majesty of God with whom thou wert conversing, and dost thou not long for the hour which shall end thy task? If thou hast done other good works, with what coldness are they performed, and how great are their faults. If it is certain that Almighty God beholds not so much thy good deeds as the spirit and intention with which they are done; and how many thinkest thou of these good works hast thou performed, which, purified from chaff and dust, were unstained by vanity and the world? how many hast thou done unmoved by the importunity of others, or out of compliment to them? how many for thine own honour

and reputation? how many to please men? how many for thine own gratification? Alas, thou wilt soon see, how small have been the number of those deeds which thou hast done simply for the sake of Almighty God, without taking any notice of the opinion of the world.

If thou dost examine into thy duties towards thy neighbours, thou wilt soon see that thou hast neither loved them as God hath commanded thee, nor felt that their sorrows were thine, nor helped them in their distress, nor shewn sufficient compassion towards them. Rather, perhaps, instead of pitying them, thou hast vented thine anger upon them, and hast despised. their distress, not considering that true justice is tempered with compassion, and false justice with contempt.

Again, touching that bond of love, which the apostle recommends to us so often, commanding us to love one another as members of the same body, since we are all partakers of the same spirit; how far hast thou been from fulfilling this command? how often hast thou refused to succour the poor, to visit the sick, to help the widow, and to assist him who can do but little for himself? how often hast thou scandalized others, by thy words, thy actions, thy answers? how often hast thou preferred thyself before thine equals, despised thine inferiors, and flattered thy superiors; being, as occasion offered, humble to some, and proud to others.

If thou wilt examine thyself further, put thine hand into thy bosom, how leprous shalt thou pull it out again; what deep wounds shalt thou find; how full of the roots of pride, of love of honour, vain glory, and hypocrisy, with which thou concealest thy faults, so as to appear different to what thou really art? What a lover of gain art thou; how fond of the pleasures of the flesh, for which oftentimes, under the colour of necessity, thou dost not only provide for, but serve, not only dost sustain, but pamper? Again, if thine equal goes but a little way before thee, how speedily do signs of envy shew themselves? If another does but touch thee in some point of honour, how quickly art thou angry? But, besides all these evils, canst thou forget the looseness of thy tongue, the levity of thine heart, the obstinacy of thy will, the instability of thy good resolutions? How many evil words proceed from thy lips; how vain and prejudicial are they to thy neighbour; how flattering to thyself? How seldom hast thou denied thine own will, and given over the prey whereon it feedeth, in order to fulfil the will of Almighty God? Examine into it well, and thou wilt surely find how seldom it is that thou gainest a victory over thyself, whereas it is always needful for thee to have this power, to enable thee to live a holy

life. What canst thou say of thy broken resolutions, but that thou art like a weathercock, which is turned about by every breath of wind, as thou art, on the least occasion which offers itself to thee? What is thy whole life, but a child's play, purposing something in the morning, and changing sometimes even in the self-same hour? What art thou like, but to the lunatic in the Holy Gospel, whom the apostles could not heal? Consider the levity of thine heart, whose fickleness, changefulness, and cowardice thou canst as little explain, as it is certain that thine heart changes almost hourly, without any stability or firmness into as many shapes and figures as occasions offer. How quickly is it distracted from business; how lightly it pours out all that it has, and how slight an adversity is enough to vex and overwhelm it.

In conclusion, cast up thine account well, and see what thou hast, and what thou dost need. Thou wilt then know that thou hast great reason to fear, since thou hast been but a mere appearance and shadow of holiness and goodness. For thou hast in thyself nothing more than a bare thought of Almighty God, which perhaps savours more of the flesh than of the spirit. It might thus appear to thee that thou art safe; even thou mightest say with the Pharisee, that thou art not as other men are, because they possess not even the thought and feelings which thou hast; whereas the other portion of thy soul is full of self-love, selfwill, and many other defects and passions. So that all the substance of this shew of holiness is but to say, Lord, Lord, and not to do the holy will of God. This is to imitate the hypocritical Pharisee, and to be that lukewarm one of whom Almighty God emphatically says in the Revelation, "I will spue thee out of my mouth."

All these things thou must consider very diligently, and endeavour to obtain sincere sorrow and penitence for thy past sins, and a perfect knowledge of thyself; that by the one thou mayest ask pardon for having offended thy dear Lord, and by the other, power and grace never so to offend him again for ever.

V. Of the contempt a man should feel for himself.

After a man has thus considered the number of his sins, by which he is weighed down, he ought to humble himself as much as possible, and to desire the just contempt of all creatures, since he has despised the Creator of them all. He may help himself with the devout considerations of a holy saint, who, in speaking of this compunction of conscience, says, 'Behold, brethren, our great vileness, and the enormity of our sins; and let us humble ourselves before Almighty God as much as we can.

Let us be afraid to lift up so much as our eyes unto heaven; let us smite our breasts like the publican in the Holy Gospel, that the Lord may have mercy upon us; and let us constrain ourselves, and take up arms against our own wickedness, and enter into judgment with ourselves. Let each one say within himself, If for these sins, which I have committed, my Saviour was so insulted and afflicted, why should I not abase myself, seeing that that it was for me that he suffered? Far be it from me ever to presume upon myself. For I am he who has despised almighty God, and who has crucified him afresh upon the cross. It seems, indeed, as if the whole world gave sentence against me, saying, This is he who has despised our common Lord; this is that ungrateful and perverse one, who has been moved more by the wiles of the devil, than by the benefits of the Almighty; this is he to whom the malice of the devil is more agreeable than the divine goodness; this is he who could never be attracted by divine love, nor intimidated by divine wrath; this is he who has dishonoured and scoffed at the power, the wisdom, the goodness of God; fears more to offend a mortal like himself than the omnipotent God. He is more ashamed of committing a bad action before men than in the presence of God. This is he who enjoys earthly pleasures more than his chiefest good; this is he who fixes his eyes on corruptible creatures, and has turned from the service of his Creator. What shall I say more? There is nothing vile and wicked which he has not committed in the presence of God, without shame or any respect for so great a Majesty. Wherefore let all creatures cry out against him, saying, This is he who has treated us so badly, for he ought to have employed us in the service and praise of our Creator, has made us serve the enemy of souls, turning into reproach the Holy One who created us to serve himself alone. His soul was beautified with the image of God; he has darkened that image, and clothed it with our vile likeness. More earthly was he than earth; more unstable than water; more changeful than the wind; more ardent than fire in his fleshly appetites; more hardened than stone; more cruel against himself than his enemies; more uncharitable against others than the evil one himself. He has neither feared God, nor rgarded man; he has scattered his wickedness amongst men, attracting many others to be the companions of his evil deeds. Not content with injuring God himself, he has induced others to be partakers in his injuries. What can I say of his other offences? His pride is so great that he will neither be subject to Almighty God, nor bend his neck beneath the yoke of his obedience, but lives as he himself thinks best, having in all things his own will, and being utterly rebelli

ous against that of God. If God grants not his desires, or sends him any trouble, he is wrathful with the Creator, as he would be to a creature. In all his actions he desires to be praised, as well in bad as in good ones, as if he were that Deity to whom alone it is due to be praised for everything, since all he does is good, and is ordained for good. He is, after a

manner, more proud than Lucifer, and more presumptuons than Adam; for they, being filled with light and beauty, had some reason to presume of themselves; but a sinful man, what reason has he in the least degree to esteem himself?

"All creatures raise most justly their voices against me, for I, O my soul, I am the man. They exclaim, Come, and destroy the despiser of our Creator. The earth says, Why do I sustain him? The water, Why do I not cover him? The air, Why do I give him breath? The fire, Why do I not consume him? And hell says, Why do I not swallow him up and torment him? Alas, wretched man that I am, what shall I do, whither shall I fly, since everything is in arms against me? Who will receive me, since I have offended all things? Almighty God have I despised; the holy angels have I grieved; the saints have I dishonoured; men have I offended; all creatures have I treated badly. Why need I make so long a discourse, for in offending the Creator, I have also offended all his creatures in him. I know not whither to flee; everything is against me, so that I can see no one to take my part, and even my own conscience raises its voice against me; my very reins chasten me in the night season. Wherefore I will weep, as some poor wretched creature weeps, with unceasing tears of penitence whilst I live in this vale of misery, hoping that my most merciful Saviour will vouchsafe to turn his eyes towards me. I will cast myself at his sacred feet, and with all possible humility and shame I will say to him, Lord Jesus I am that great enemy of thine, who, before thy divine eyes, has committed such abominable sins. I acknowledge myself so guilty before thee, that were I only to suffer those pains of hell, which evil spirits and men have been condemned to suffer, I could make no sufficient attonement for my sins. Extend then, O merciful Lord, the cloak of thy mercy over this miserable creature, that my wickedness may be overshadowed by the greatness of thy love. Let the heavenly Father rejoice at the return of the prodigal son; and the good shepherd at the recovery of the sheep which was lost. Oh! how joyful will be that day, when thou shalt extend Thine everlasting arms to me, and give me the kiss of peace. To obtain this blessing I well know what to do. I will take up arms against myself, and will be more severe towards myself than towards any other; I