Looking unto Jesus a view of the everlasting gospel, or, the souls eying of…

2. Let us be humbled for our great inconformity to this copy; what an excellent pattern is here before us? and how far, how infinitely do we come short of this blessed pattern? O alas! if Christ will not own me, unless he see his Image written upon me, what will become of my poor soul? why Christ was meek, and humble, and lowly in spirit; Christ was holy, and heavenly; Christ ever went about doing good; and now when I come to examine my own heart according to this original, I find naturally a meet antipathy, a contrariety, I am as opposite to Christ as Hell and Heaven. 1. For my thoughts, within I am full of pride, and malice; I am full of the spirit of the world; what is there in my heart but a world of passions, rebellions, darkness, and deadness of spirit to good? and, 2. If the fountain be so muddy, can I expect clear streams? what words are these, that come many a time from me? Christ would not speak an idle word, but how many idle, evil, sinful words come daily flowing from my lips? Out of the abundance of the mouth the heart speaketh; and if I may guess at my heart by my words, where was my heart this Sabbath, and the other Sabbath, when my discourse was all on my calling, or on the world, or it may be on my lusts, or on my Delilah's, on my right-hand-sins, or on my right-eye-sins? and, 3. What actions are these so frequently performed by me? if I must read my state by my conversation, Whose image and superscription is this? the last oath I sware, the last blasphemy I belched out, the last act of drunkenness, idolatry, adultery I committed, (or if these sins are not fit to be named) the last piece of wrong I did my neighbour, the last prank of pride I played on this stage of the world, the last expense of time when I did no good in the world, neither to my self nor others, the last omission of good, as well ⟨p. 334⟩as commission of evil; O my soul, whose Image is this? is it the Image of Christ, or of Satan? If the worst Scholar in the School should write thus untowardly after his copy, would he not be ashamed? if in my heart and life I observe so many blots and stains, so great inconformity, and dissimilitude to the life of Christ, how should I but lie in the dust? O woe is me! what a vast disproportion is betwixt Christ's life and mine? why thus, O my soul, shouldst thou humble thy self;

2. Let us be humbled for our great inconformity to this copy; what an excellent pattern is here before us? and how far, how infinitely do we come short of this blessed pattern? O alas! if Christ will not own me, unless he see his Image written upon me, what will become of my poor soul? why Christ was meek, and humble, and lowly in spirit; Christ was holy, and heavenly; Christ ever went about doing good; and now when I come to examine my own heart according to this original, I find naturally a meet antipathy, a contrariety, I am as opposite to Christ as Hell and Heaven. 1. For my thoughts, within I am full of pride, and malice; I am full of the spirit of the world; what is there in my heart but a world of passions, rebellions, darkness, and deadness of spirit to good? and, 2. If the fountain be so muddy, can I expect clear streams? what words are these, that come many a time from me? Christ would not speak an idle word, but how many idle, evil, sinful words come daily flowing from my lips? Out of the abundance of the mouth the heart speaketh; and if I may guess at my heart by my words, where was my heart this Sabbath, and the other Sabbath, when my discourse was all on my calling, or on the world, or it may be on my lusts, or on my Dalilah's, on my right-hand-sins, or on my right-eye-sins? and, 3. What actions are these so frequently performed by me? if I must read my state by my conversation, Whose image and superscription is this? the last oath I sware, the last blasphemy I belched out, the last act of drunkenness, idolatry, adultery I committed, (or if these sins are not fit to be named) the last piece of wrong I did my neighbour, the last prank of pride I played on this stage of the world, the last expence of time when I did no good in the world, neither to my self nor others, the last omission of good, as well