perish for loving the creature more than God, methinks you should long most for that condition, in which the creature appeareth least lovely, or is least likely to steal your love from God, and in which you may love him and enjoy him

most.

6. And bethink you how unsuitable it is to your condition, to desire sumptuous buildings, and enticing accommodations to your flesh. Have you not taken God for your portion, and heaven for your home? And are you not strangers and pilgrims here? And is not God and everlasting glory sufficient for you? You profess all this, if you profess to be Christians; and if you be not, you should not profess that you are. And what! do you begin to repent of your choice? Must you yet turn to the pomp and vanity of the world again? And will you quit your hopes of God and glory? Ah, poor souls! what little need have you of such great matters on earth? You have but a little to do with them! and but a little while to stay with them! And will not a mean habitation, and shorter accommodations serve you for so short a time? Stay but a while, and your souls shall have house-room enough in heaven or hell, and a narrow grave of seven feet long will serve your bodies till the resurrection. And cannot you make shift with an ordinary habitation, and with small and common things till then? Naked you came into the world, and naked you must go out: make not then so great a stir in dressing, and undressing, and feathering a nest, that will be so soon pulled down.

7. And it is a dangerous sign that your time on earth is short, when you have most content in outward things. I have told you once in another discourse (which I have since seen more of) that people that much set their hearts upon any earthly thing, do use to be snatched away by death just when they have attained it, before they can have the comfort of possessing it. Just when their houses are built; just when their debts are paid, and their estates cleared and settled; just when they have such and such a thing which they earnestly desired, then they are gone; as the fool in Luke xii. 20. “This night shall thy soul be required of thee; then whose shall those things be which thou hast provided?"

8. And you do but prepare for a double sorrow, when you must leave all these. Do you think that the more you love or delight in any thing below, you will not be the more loath

to leave it? Do not think only of the present content, but ask your hearts, 'Shall I be more willing to part with a sumptuous house, and commodious gardens, walks, and fields, than with a mean habitation, and less pleasing things?' 0, how it tears the very heart of the worldling, when he sees that he must for ever leave all that which he set so much by, and which hath cost him so dear! If he set his heart but on a horse, or any creature, the loss of it is a double suffering. Much more will he be wounded with the loss of all, that his mind was so much set upon.

Remember, therefore, Christians, that as these accommodations are mercies which you must faithfully use, when they are cast upon you; so they are snares not to be sought after; and matter for your self-denial to neglect. As they are provision for the flesh to fulfil its desires, you must not know them. You have a building of God to mind and look after; a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens, and it better beseemeth you, earnestly to groan, to be so clothed, that mortality may be swallowed up of life, 2 Cor. v. 1, 2.4. Possess present things as not possessing them; and use them as not abusing them, for the form of them passeth away.

CHAPTER XXVI.

Apparel as used for this Carnal End, &c.

9. ANOTHER object of sensuality to be denied, is apparel, as desired for this carnal end. Though clothing be a consequent of sin, yet now to man in this necessity it is a mercy and a duty, so be it we use it with such cautions as in the foresaid cases is expressed. 1. That our end be the furnishing our frail bodies for the work of God, and the preserving them from that shame, and cold, and hurt which would unfit us for his service. 2. And that our apparel be fitted as near as we can to these ends; that is, to healthful warmth, and comeliness; and that under the name of comeliness we do not fit them to carnal ends, to set us out to the eyes of men, and to raise their esteem of our worth or comeliness of person: but be satisfied if we avoid the shame of nakedness and contemptible unhandsomeness. 3. To which end we should see

that we affect not to rise above those of our own rank, nor equal ourselves in apparel with our superiors; but go with the lower sort of our condition. 4. And that we imitate not the fashions of light and vain persons; but keep company in our attire with the most wise and sober, and grave persons about us. 5. And that we bestow no needless cost upon our attire, because we must be accountable for all that God entrusteth us with. 6. And that we change not causelessly. Thus must apparel be used: the cheapest that is warm and comely, according to the fashion of the gravest persons of our rank, and the lowest of them.

But alas, this childish trifle the devil hath made a bait of sensuality. The care that people have about it, the cost they bestow on superfluities, their desire to go with the highest of their rank, to say nothing of mutable and immodest fashions, do shew to what end it is that they use it. I desire these kind of people to think of these few things that I shall say to them.

1. This vanity of apparel, is the certain effect of the vanity of your mind; you openly proclaim yourselves to be persons of a foolish, childish temper, and poor understanding: among the most ungodly people, they that have but common wisdom, do look upon this vanity of inordinate apparel as quite below them. And therefore it is commonly taken to be the special sin of women, and children, and lightheaded, silly, empty men. Those that have no inward worth to commend them to the world, are silly souls indeed, if they think any wise folks will take a silken coat instead of it! It is wisdom, and holiness and righteousness, that are the ornaments of man; and that is his beauty which beautifieth his soul. And do you think that among wise men fine clothes will go instead of wisdom, or virtue, or holiness? You may put as fine clothes upon a fool as upon a wise man ; and will that, think you, make him pass for wise? When a gallant came into the shop of Apelles, that famous painter, to have his picture drawn, as long as he stood silent, the apprentices carried themselves reverently towards him, because he shone in gold and silver lace; but when he began to talk, they perceived he was a fool, and they left their reverence, and all fell a laughing at him. When people see you in an extraordinary garb, you draw their observation towards you, and one asketh, who is yon

der that is so fine? And another asks, who is yonder? And when they perceive that you are more witless and worthless than other folks, they will but laugh at you and despise you. Excess in apparel is the very sign of folly, that is hanged out to tell the world what you are, as a sign at an inn-door acquaints the passenger that there he may have entertainment. You draw folks to suspect that all is not well with you, where there needs all this ado. It is sure a sorry house that needeth many props; and a diseased body that needeth so much medicining; and a deformed face that needeth painting; and what is gaudy attire to the body, but such as painting is to the face? If I see artificial teeth in your heads, I must think that you want natural ones that were better. If I perceive your breath to be still sweetened by art, I shall suspect that it would stink without it. And if I see people inordinately careful of their apparel, I must needs suspect there is some special cause for it: all is not well where all this care and curiosity is necessary. And what is the deformity that you would hide by this? Is it that of your mind? Why you bewray it more? tell all that see you, that you are empty, silly souls, as plainly as a morrice-dancer, or a stage-player, doth tell folks what he is by his attire. Is it the deformities of your bodies that you would hide this way? I confess, that is the best excuse that can be made for this excess: for apparel will do more to hide the deformities of the body than of the mind. But the shape of your clothes is fittest for this (so far it is fit to be attempted:) for the bravery of them will do little, but draw men's observation the more upon your infirmity. If you say that you have no such extraordinary necessity, then I must say that you do yourselves wrong to entice people to suspect it.

You

2. And also you make an open ostentation of pride, or lust, or both, to all that look upon you. In other cases you are careful to hide your sin, and take it for an heinous injury if you be but openly told of it and reproved: how comes it then to pass that you are here so forward yourselves to make it known, that you must carry the signs of it open in the world! Is it not a dishonour to rogues and thieves, that have been burnt in the hand or forehead, or must ride about with a paper pinned to their backs, declaring their crimes to all that see them; so that every one may say,

yonder is a thief, and yonder is a perjured man: and is it not much like it for you to carry the badge of pride or lust abroad with you in the open streets or meetings? Why do you desire to be so fine, or neat, or excessively comely? Is it not to draw the eyes and observations of men upon you? And to what end? Is it not to be thought either rich, or beautiful, or of a handsome person? And to what end desire you these thoughts of men? Do you not know that this desire is pride itself? You must needs be somebody, and fain you would be observed and valued; and fain you would be noted to be of the best or highest rank that you can expect to be reckoned of: and what is this but pride? And I hope you know that pride is the devil's sin, the firstborn of all iniquity; and that which the God of heaven abhors! so that it were more credit for you in the eyes of men of wisdom to proclaim youselves beggars, sots, or idiots, than to proclaim your pride. And too oft it shews a pang of lust as well as pride; especially in young persons; and few are so forward to this sin as they. This bravery and finery is but the fruit of a procacious mind; it is plainly a wooing, alluring act. It is not for nothing that they would fain be eyed, and be thought comely or fair in others' eyes! Somewhat they want; you may conjecture what! And even married people, if they love their credit, should take heed by such means of drawing suspicion upon themselves. Sirs, if you are guilty of folly, pride and lust, your best way is to seek of God an effectual cure, and to use such means as tends to cure it; and not such as tend to cherish it, and increase it; as certainly fineness in clothing doth. But if you will not cure it, for shame conceal it, and do not tell every one that sees you what is in your heart: what would you think of one that should go up and down the street, telling all that meet him, I am a thief,' or I am a fornicator,' would you not think that he were a compound of foolery and knavery? And how little do you come short of this that write upon your own backs, Folly, pride and lust,' or tell them by your apparel, 'Take notice of me: I am foolish, proud, and lustful?'

3. And if you be so silly as to think that bravery is a means of honour, you should withal consider that it is but a shameful begging of honour from those that look upon you, when you shew them not any thing to purchase or deserve