e mind, many things pass within, which we
never reflect upon again; which a bystander, from having frequent
opportunities of observing us and our conduct, may make shrewd guesses
at.

That great numbers are in this way of deceiving themselves is certain.
There is scarce a man in the world, who has entirely got over all
regards, hopes, and fears, concerning God and a future state; and these
apprehensions in the generality, bad as we are, prevail in considerable
degrees: yet men will and can be wicked, with calmness and thought; we
see they are. There must therefore be some method of making it sit a
little easy upon their minds; which, in the superstitious, is those
indulgences and atonements before mentioned, and this self-deceit of
another kind in persons of another character. And both these proceed
from a certain unfairness of mind, a peculiar inward dishonesty; the
direct contrary to that simplicity which our Saviour recommends, under
the notion of _becoming little children_, as a necessary qualification
for our entering into the kingdom of heaven.

But to conclude: How much soever men differ in the course of life they
prefer, and in their ways of palliating and excusing their vices to
themselves; yet all agree in one thing, desiring to _die the death of the
righteous_. This is surely remarkable. The observation may be extended
further, and put thus: even without determining what that is which we
call guilt or innocence, there is no man but would choose, after having
had the pleasure or advantage of a vicious action, to be free of the
guilt of it, to be in the state of an innocent man. This shows at least
the disturbance and implicit dissatisfaction in vice. If we inquire into
the grounds of it, we shall find it proceeds partly from an immediate
sense of having done evil, and partly from an apprehension that this
inward sense shall one time or another be seconded by a higher judgment,
upon which our whole being depends. Now to suspend and drown this sense,
and these apprehensions, be it by the hurry of business or of pleasure,
or by superstition, or moral equivocations, this is in a manner one and
the same, and makes no alteration at all in the nature of our case.
Things and actions are what they are, and the consequences of them will
be what they will be: why, then, should we desire to be deceived? As we
are reasonable creatures, and have any regard to ourselves, we ought to
lay these things plainly and hone