of God, the promoting of his kingdom, and the hallowing of his name, which must be first and most desired. The order of your duty is, to "seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness," and then other things are promised with it; Matt. vi. 33. And therefore for it, must be desired and sought.

And if your very food and life must be desired but for this everlasting end, then it is still but one thing that is necessary, and finally to be desired. For the means is willed but with an imperfect willing, because not for itself; and that only hath our full and perfect love, which is loved for itself. Even in the act of love unto the means, it is more properly the end that is loved than the means, and the means is chosen for that end. So that you see that for all the necessity of creatures, and of diligence in our callings, the truth is still clear, that it is only one thing that is truly necessary.

V. Use 1. The understanding is the subservient faculty, to let in that light, which may by direction and excitation, guide the will. Having shewed you the truth, I am next to shew you how you may improve it, and so to apply it, as may best help you to apply it to yourselves.

And if I should here fall upon things impertinent, or make it my work to tickle your ears, or exalt myself in your esteem, by an unseasonable ostentation of learning or eloquence, or carry on any such corrupt design, while I should faithfully do the work of God, my text itself would openly condemn me. If one thing be needful, it is that one that I must do myself, while I am exhorting you to do it. And woe be to me, if I should lay by that, to do any other unnecessary work, even to fish for the applause of carnal wits, while my very subject is the reproofs of Christ against a much more tolerable error.

• And as to the manner of my admonition, if one thing be needful, I hope you will allow me to be as plain and serious as I can, about this one. And my first address to you shall be for trial.

you

And I shall make it now my earnest request to you, that will bethink you how much you are concerned, to compare your hearts and lives with this passage, and judge yourselves by the word of God that is now before you. And for your own sakes do it seriously and faithfully, as passengers

that are hasting to the great assize. What say your consciences, sirs, to this question? Have you indeed lived in the world as men that believe that one thing is necessary? Hath this one had your chiefest care and labour, and have you chosen rather to neglect all other things than this? Look behind you, and judge of the course that you have taken by the light of this one text. I do not ask you, Whether you have heard that one thing is necessary; nor whether you have talked of it, and confessed it to be true; nor whether you have been called Christians by yourselves and others, and have come to church, and forborne those sins that would have most blemished your honour in the world. This is nothing to the question. Thus many thousands do, that were never acquainted with the one thing necessary. Nor do I ask you, Whether you have used to allow God half an hour's lip-service, or formal, drowsy prayer at night, when you have served the world and flesh all day? Nor whether you have been religious on the by, and given God some lean devotions which cost you little, and which your flesh can spare without any great diminution or detriment in its ease, and honour, and profit, and sensual delights. Nor whether you run to some kind of duties of religion, to make all whole, when you come from wilful reigning sin; and so make religion a fortress to your lusts, to quiet your consciences while you serve the flesh. I confess such a kind of religiousness as this, the world is acquainted with. But this is unanswerable to the rule before us.

But the question is, Whether this one thing hath been the treasure and jewel of your estimation; the darling of your affections; the prize of your most diligent endeavours, and the only felicity of your souls?

Sirs, as lightly as you hear this question now, you will one day find that your lives, yea your salvation, lieth upon your answer to it. Can you truly say, as before the Searcher of hearts, that it is he that hath had your hearts? That this one thing hath been more esteemed by you, than all the world besides? That other things have all stooped unto this one, and served under it? And that this hath had the stream of your most hearty affections, the drift of your endeavours, and hath been the matter that you have had first to do, and the thing for which you have lived in the world?

If this be not so, never talk of your Christianity for

shame. Your religion is vain, if this be not your religion. Alas, I know that we have all of us yet too much of the flesh, and are too cold in our affections, and too slow and uneven in our endeavours for our end. But yet for all that I must still tell you, (as I have often done because it is necessary) that here lieth the difference between the truly sanctified soul, and all the hypocrites and half-Christians in the world. Every true Christian is devoted unto God, and hath made a hearty and absolute resignation of himself and all that he hath unto him; and therefore loveth him with his superlative, most appretiative love, and serveth him with the best he hath, and thinks nothing too good or too dear for God, and for the attainment of his everlasting rest. Christ hath the chiefest room in his heart, and the bent and drift of his life is for him. He studieth how he may best serve and please him with his time, his interest, and all that he hath; and if he fall, as it is contrary to the habitual resolution of his soul, and contrary to the scope and current of his heart and life, so he riseth again by repentance with sorrow for his sin, and loathing of himself, and sincerely endeavours to amend, and goeth on resolvedly in his holy course. This is the state of every one that is in a state of life.

But for all hypocrites and half-Christians, their case is otherwise. The world and flesh is dearest to them, and highest in their practical estimation, though not in their speculative; and it hath their highest affections of love and delight, and the very bent and stream of heart and life, while God is served heartlessly on the by, for fear lest they be damned when they can enjoy the world and sin no longer, and is put off with the leavings of the flesh, and hath no more of their hearts, their tongues, their time, their wealth, than it can spare. They ask their flesh how far they shall be religious, and will go no further than will stand with their prosperity in the world. With the first and best they serve the flesh, and with the cheapest and the refuse they serve the Lord. When they go highest in their outside carnal religiousness, they go not beyond this hypocritical, reserved state; and usually, as Cain, they hate Abel for offering a more acceptable sacrifice. God must take up with this from them, or be without. They always serve him with this reserve, though it be not always explicit and discerned by them, 'Provided that it may go well with me in the world, and I

may have some competent proportion of honour, profit or pleasure, and religion may not expose me to be undone.' If God will not take them on these terms (as most certainly he never will), he must go look him other servants; and so he will; and make them know at last unto their sorrow, that he needed not their service, but it was they that needed him, and the benefits of his service.

I thought meet (though I have done it oft before) to give you this difference between the hypocrite and the sincere. And now it is my earnest request unto you all, that you will presently call your souls to an account, and know which of these two courses you have taken; and which of these two is your own condition.

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If nature had made you such strangers to yourselves, as you were unable to answer such a question, I would never trouble you with it; but I suppose by faithful inquiry, you may know this much of yourselves, if you are but willing. You know where it is that you have dwelt, and what it is that you have been doing in the world, and you can review the actions of your lives, though they have been of smaller consequence. Why then may you not quickly know if you will, so great a thing, as What hath been the end and business for which you have lived in the world till now? Have you been running so long, and know not yet what is the prize that you have run for? Have you forgot the errand that you have been so long going on? Have you been busy all your days till now, and know not about what or why? Certainly this is a thing that may be known, if you are willing and diligent to know it. It is for one of these two that you have lived; for the world, or for God. To please your flesh, or to please God and be saved. Either to make provision for earth or heaven. Which of these is it? Deal plainly with yourselves, for your salvation is deeply concerned in the account.

Perhaps you will say, that it was for both; for as you have a soul and body, so you must look to both. Yea, but so as one that knoweth, that one thing is needful. As your body is but the prison, the case, the servant, of your souls, so it must be provided for and used but as a servant, and maintained only in a fitness for its work. But the question is, Which of them hath had the preeminence? Which hath had the life of your affections and endeavours. Which of

them was your end; about which hath been the chief business that you have most carefully and diligently carried on? This is the great question.

You cannot have two masters, though you may have many instruments and fellow-servants. You cannot acceptably serve God, if you serve mammon. Every wicked man may do something in religion, and every good man may do something that is contrary to religion. A carnal man may do something for God, and for his soul; and a spiritual man ought to do something subordinately for his body, and too often, alas, doth something for it inordinately. But which bears the sway? and which is first sought? and which comes behind, and but the leavings of the other?

"Be not deceived: God is not mocked. Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he reap. If you sow to the flesh, of the flesh you shall reap corruption; but if you sow to the Spirit, of the Spirit shall you reap everlasting life;" Gal. vi. 7,8. "Love not the world, nor the things that are in the world (for themselves). For if any man love the world (with his chiefest love), the love of the Father is not in him;" 1 John ii. 15. Is it not a wonder that any reasonable man can be such a stranger to himself, as not to know what he lives for, and what hath had his heart, and what hath been the principal business of his life? Some by matters you may easily forget or overlook; but can you do so by your end, which hath been your chiefest care and business?

If indeed you no more know your own minds, nor what you have all this while been doing in the world, ask those that you have conversed with; and judge by the effects and signs. Others can tell what you have most seriously talked of. They may conjecture by their observation, what you have most carefully sought, and resolutely adhered to: whether it be God or the flesh; this world or heaven? The one thing needful, or the many troubling trifles in your way. It is like that wise and godly observers can help you to discern it; though sensualists will but deceive you.

A man's love, at least his chiefest love, cannot be hid, but will appear in his behaviour. If you love God above the world, you will seek him and his glory before the world; and if you do so it may partly be discerned, if you have conversed with discerning men. Heaven and earth are not so