Thirdly, Another reason why a man does not more frequently converse with himself, is, because such conversation with his own heart may discover some vice or some infirmity lurking within him, which he is very unwilling to believe himself guilty of. For can there be a more ungrateful thing to a man, than to find that upon a nearer view he is not that person he took himself to be? That he had neither the courage, nor the honesty, nor the piety, nor the humility that he dreamed he had? That a very little pain, for instance, putteth him out of patience, and as little pleasure softens and disarms him into ease and wantonness? That he has been at more pains, and labour, and cost, to be revenged of an enemy, than to oblige the best friend he has in the world? That he cannot bring himself to say his prayers, without a great deal of reluctancy; and when he does say them, the spirit and fervour of devotion evaporate in a very short time, and he can scarcely hold out a prayer of ten lines, without a number of idle and impertinent, if not vain and wicked thoughts coming into his head? These are very unwelcome discoveries that a man may make of himself; so that 'tis no wonder that every one who is already flushed with a good opinion of himself, should rather study how to run away from it, than how to converse with his own heart.
But further, if a man were both able and willing to retire into his own heart, and to set apart some portion of the day for that very purpose; yet he is still disabled from passing a fair and impartial judgment upon himself, by several difficulties, arising partly from prejudice and prepossession, partly from the lower appetites and inclinations. And,
First: That the business of prepossession may lead and betray a man into a false judgment of his own heart. For we may observe, that the first opinion we take up of anything, or any person, does generally stick close to us; the nature of the mind being such, that it cannot but desire, and consequently endeavour to have some certain principles to go upon, something fixed and unmoveable, whereon it may rest and support itself. And hence it comes to pass, that some persons are with so much difficulty brought to think well of a man they have once entertained an ill opinion of: and perhaps that too for a very absurd and unwarrantable reason. But how much more difficult then must it be for a man, who takes up a fond opinion of his own heart long before he has either years or sense enough to understand it, either to be persuaded out of it by himself, whom he loveth so well, or by another, whose interest or diversion it may be to make him ashamed of himself! Then,
Secondly: As to the difficulties arising from the inferior appetites and inclinations, let any man look into his own heart, and observe in how different a light, and under what different complexions, any two sins of equal turpitude and malignity do appear to him, if he has but a strong inclination to the one, and none at all to the other. That which he has an inclination to, is always drest up in all the false beauty that a fond and busy imagination can give it; the other appears naked and deformed, and in all the true circumstances of folly and dishonour. Thus stealing is a vice that few gentlemen are inclined to; and they justly think it below the dignity of a man to stoop to so base and low a sin; but no principle of honour, no workings of the mind and conscience, not the still voice of mercy, not the dreadful call of judgment, nor any considerations whatever, can put a stop to that violence and oppression, that pride and ambition, that revelling and wantonness, which we every day meet with in the world. Nay, it is easy to observe very different thoughts in a man, of the sin that he is most fond of, according to, the different ebbs and flows of his inclination to it For as soon as the appetite is alarmed, and seizeth upon the heart, a little cloud gathereth about the head, and spreads a kind of darkness over the face of the soul, whereby 'tis hindered from taking a clear and distinct view of things; but no sooner is the appetite tired and satiated, but the same cloud passes away like a shadow, and a new light springing up in the mind of a sudden, the man sees much more, both of the folly and of the danger of the sin, than he did before.
And thus having done with the several reasons why man, the only creature in the world that can reflect and look into himself, is so very ignorant of what passes within him, and so much unacquainted with the standing dispositions and complexions of his own heart: I proceed now, in the
Third and Last place, to lay down several advantages, that do most assuredly attend a due improvement in the knowledge of ourselves. And,
First: One great advantage is, that it tends very much to mortify and humble a man into a modest and low opinion of himself. For let a man take a nice and curious inspection into all the several regions of the heart, and observe every thing irregular and amiss within him: for instance, how narrow and short-sighted a thing is the understanding; upon how little reason do we take up an opinion, and upon how much less sometimes do we lay it down again, how weak and false ground do we often walk upon with the biggest confidence and assurance, and how tremulous and doubtful are we very often where no doubt is to be made. Again; how wild and impertinent, how busy and incoherent a thing is the imagination, even in the best and wisest men; insomuch that every man may be said to be mad, but every man does not shew it. Then as to the passions; how noisy, how turbulent, and how tumultuous are they, how easy they are stirred and set a-going, how eager and hot in the pursuit, and what strange disorder and confusion do they throw a man into; so that he can neither think, nor speak, nor act as he should do, while he is under the dominion of any one of them.
Thus let every man look with a severe and impartial eye into all the distinct regions of the heart, and no doubt, several deformities and irregularities, that he never thought of, will open and disclose themselves upon so near a view; and rather make the man ashamed of himself, than proud.
Secondly: A due improvement in the knowledge of ourselves does certainly secure us from the sly and insinuating assaults of flattery. There is not in the world a baser and more hateful thing than flattery; it proceeds from so much falseness and insincerity in the man that gives it, and often discovers so much weakness and folly in the man that takes it, that it is hard to tell which of the two is most to be blamed. Every man of common sense can demonstrate in speculation, and may be fully convinced, that all the praises and commendations of the whole world can add no more to the real and intrinsic value of a man, than they can add to his stature. And yet, for all this, men of the best sense and piety, when they come down to the practice, cannot forbear thinking much better of themselves, when they have the good fortune to be spoken well of by other persons.
But the meaning of this absurd proceeding seems to be no other than this; there are few men that have so intimate an acquaintance with their own heart, as to know their own real worth, and how to set a just rate upon themselves, and therefore they do not know but that he who praises them most, may be most in the right of it. For, no doubt, if a man were ignorant of the true value of a thing he loved as well as himself, he would measure the worth of it according to the esteem of him who bids most for it, rather than of him that bids less.