CHAPTER I.

_Of the progress of his convictions and temptations._

1. I HAD now a design to go abroad: but on the advice of some friends, I laid aside that design, and engaged as chaplain to a family. Accordingly in _August 1696_, I went to the _Wemyss_. When I came hither, a stranger among persons of considerable quality, I was in a great strait, and cried to God for help. And though it was my own, more than his honour, I was concerned for, yet he, who would not overlook even _Ahab_’s humiliation, did not fail to assist me, so far as to maintain the respect due to the station I was in.

2. I had not been here long, when I was often engaged (and frequently, without necessity) in debates about the divinity of the scriptures, and the most important doctrines therein. This drew me to read the writings of Deists, that I might know the strength of the enemy. But I soon perceived, that these foolish questions and contentions were unprofitable and vain. For evil men and seducers will wax worse and worse, deceiving and being deceived. And to my sad experience I found, that their word doth eat as doth a gangrene: so that happy is he who stops his ears against it!

3. The reading these was of dangerous consequence to one who was not rooted and grounded in the truth. Their objections I found struck at the foundations; they were many, new, and set off to the best advantage by the cunning craftiness of men practised in deceit. Nor was I acquainted with that vigilance and humble sobriety that were necessary for my defence against them. The adversary finding all things thus prepared, set furiously upon me. He wrought up first the natural atheism, darkness and enmity of my own heart, blasphemously to ask concerning the great truths of religion, “How can these things be?” To increase these doubts he employed some who had all the advantages of nature and education, persons smooth, sober, of generous tempers, and good understandings, to oppose the truth with the most plausible appearances of argument and reason. To all this he added his own subtil suggestions, “Hath God indeed said so?” And sometimes he threw in fiery darts, to enflame and disorder me; especially, when I was alone, or most seriously employed in prayer or meditation.

4. By all these ways he assaulted me, both as to the being of God, as to his providence, and as to the truth both of his revelation in general, and of many particulars contained in it. Sometimes he suggested the want of sufficient evidence; at other times, that it was obscure or hard. Yea, some parts of it were accused as plain blasphemy: some as contradictory to each other. The great mystery of the gospel was particularly set upon and represented as foolishness: and for fear of some or other of those suggestions, it was even a terror to me, to look into the bible.

5. The subtle enemy, who had so often before tempted me to pride, now pressed me to a bastard sort of humility. “How can such an one as you expect to remove difficulties, which so many abler men have sunk under?” By this I was brought into grievous perplexity. I sought relief from my own reasonings, from books, and even from prayer, but I found it not. Then I wished for some extraordinary revelation; and at last sat down with the sluggard, _folding my hands, and eating my own flesh_. My own reasonings availed not against him, _who esteems iron as straw, and brass as rotten wood_. All my books overlooked many of my scruples, and did not satisfy me as to the rest. And as to extraordinary expectations, God justly rejected them, seeing I would not hear Moses and the prophets. So that I had quite sunk under the weight of my trouble, and been swallowed up of sorrow and despair, had it not been for some little assistances which the goodness of God gave me, sometimes one way, sometimes another. When I was urged to reject the scriptures, it was often seasonably suggested, _To whom shall I go? These are the words of eternal life._ God powerfully convinced me, and kept the conviction strong upon my mind, that whenever I parted with revelation, I must give up all prospect of certainty or satisfaction about eternal life. The boasted demonstrations of a future happiness, built only on the light of nature, I had tried long ago, and found to be altogether weak and inconclusive; though had they been ever so conclusive, I had been not a whit the nearer satisfaction. For, to tell me of such a state, without an account of its nature, or the terms whereon it was attainable, was all one as if nothing had been said about it, and left my mind in equal confusion. Again, on a due observation of those who were truly religious, I could not but even then think them the better part of mankind; and my soul started at charging all the best of mankind with a lie in a thing of the greatest importance. On the other hand, God opened my eyes to see the unaccountable folly of those who had abandoned revealed religion. The scripture tells them plainly, they must do his will, if they would know whether the doctrine be of God. But they walk in a direct contradiction to his will; how then can they know of the doctrine? Nay, some sober, learned, and otherwise inquisitive persons, owned, that we are already miserable, if we are either cut off from the hopes of, or left at uncertainty about a future state of happiness. They owned likewise themselves to be thus uncertain, and yet were at little or no pains to be satisfied; yea, I found they rather sought for what might strengthen their doubts than remove them; which plainly shewed a hatred of the light.

6. I received further help from considering the lives, but more especially the deaths of the martyrs. When I considered the number, the quality, and all the circumstances of those who had been _tortured, not accepting deliverance_, I could not but own the finger of God, and the reality of religion. The known instances of its power over children in their tender years, appeared likewise of great weight; and I began to get frequent touches of conviction, whereby feeling the piercing virtue of his word, making manifest the secrets of my heart, I was forced to own God to be in it of a truth. Lastly, I found a secret hope begot and cherished I know not how, sometimes even amidst the violence of temptations, that as God had delivered others from temptations like mine, (though I doubted, if ever any had been so much molested as I) so he would deliver me at length; that what I knew not now, I should know hereafter: that my mouth should yet be filled with his praise: and that Satan’s rage shewed his time was but short.

7. Hereby I was enabled, not only to persevere, and with more earnestness, both in public and private duties, but also carefully to conceal all my straits from others, who might have stumbled at, or been hardened by them. I was unwilling others should know any thing that might disgust them at religion; _Tell it not in_ Gath, _lest the daughters of the uncircumcised triumph_. *In converse with such as were shaken, I still stood for the truth, as if I had been under no doubt about it. And I must own, that while I did so, God often gave me both success with others, and satisfaction in my own mind. How good a master is God! A word spoken for him is not lost: nor will he suffer the least service to be in vain. A Heathen Cyrus, yea Nebuchadnezzar himself, shall not work without his reward.

8. Before I proceed, I must observe the folly of reasoning with Satan; whenever I did so, he had still great advantage: he easily evaded all my arguments, and enforced his own suggestions: and even when they were not maintained by argument, he injected them so strongly, that I was not able to stand against them: our safest course is to hold him at a distance, and avoid all communion with him. *I must observe likewise, the wise providence of God, that the greatest difficulties against religion are hid from Atheists. None of the objections they make are near so subtle as those which were often suggested to me. Indeed they do not view religion near enough, to see either the difficulties, or the advantages that attend it. And the devil finding them quiet, keeps them so, not using force, where he can do his work without it. Besides, God, in his infinite wisdom, permits, not all these subtleties of hell to be published, in tenderness to the faith of the weak, which could not bear so severe an assault.

9. I lay under many inconveniences all this while. Most of the converse I had was with unholy men. I had no friend to whom I could impart my griefs with freedom, or any prospect of satisfaction. And the entire concealing my concern made it fasten more and more, and drink up my blood and spirits. I laid aside my studies; I could not pursue either business or diversion: I had no heart to any thing; I could not read, unless now and then a small portion of scripture, or some other practical book (except when, for a short space, there was an intermission of my trouble.) For near a year and a half I read scarce any thing; and this slothful posture laid me open to fresh temptations, and made my corruptions grow stronger still.

10. Yet even now, God minding his own work, by the means of his word, brought the law, in its spiritual meaning, nearer. And then I found more discernibly the stirrings of sin, which taking occasion from the commandment, and being fretted at the light let into my soul, wrought in me all manner of concupiscence. Hereby I was plunged into deeper guilt; _My iniquities went over my head_; and my conscience was so alarmed, _that I found no rest in my bones by reason of my sin_.

11. I still laboured for rest, either by extenuating my faults, pleading the strength of temptation, (sometimes not without secret reflections upon God) or by trying to persuade myself they were no faults at all. When all these failed, I made new vows and resolutions; and _November 23, 1697_, (a day I had set apart for fasting and prayer) I drew up a short account of my treacherous dealing with God from my youth up, and solemnly bound myself to him for the time to come.

12. But tho’ by this means I was kept from open pollutions; tho’ I was careful of outward duties; received the word with joy; watched against pride of heart, unbelief, and other spiritual evils; though I fasted, prayed, mourned, and was much in secret; yea, strove against all sins, even those I loved best; yet all this was only a form of religion, the power of which I was still a stranger to. I was a stranger to that blessed relief of sinners, faith imputed for righteousness. Though I professed to believe it, I was really in the dark, as to its glorious efficacy, tendency and design. Still my eye was not single; I regarded only myself, and not the glory of God. It was still by some righteousness of my own, in whole or in part, that I sought relief. Though I did part with my beloved sins, yet it was neither without reluctance, nor without some secret reserve. Lastly, My heart was utterly averse from all spiritual religion: and if I sometimes aimed at fixing my mind on heavenly things; yet it was soon weary of this forcible bent, and it seemed intolerable to think of being always spiritual.

13. I was now reduced to the last extremity. My sins were set in order before me, and had taken such hold upon me, that I was not able to look up. They were set in order in the dreadfulness of their nature and aggravations; my excuses baffled, and _my mouth stopped before_ God. All the ways I had taken for my relief had deceived me; they were the staff of a broken reed; they pierced my arm when I essayed to lean upon them; and _I was ashamed, and even confounded, that I had hoped_. The wrath of God was likewise dropped into my soul, and _the poison of his arrows drunk up my spirits_. Add to this, that I was still unsatisfied about religion, and my enemies often told me, that even in God there was no succour for me. Yea, sometimes Satan, to entangle me the more, assaulted all the truths of religion at once; and then I was utterly confounded, when the Lord commanded that my enemies should close me in on every side.

14. By the extremity of this anguish, I was for some time, about the end of ninety-seven, and the beginning of ninety-eight, dreadfully cast down. I was weary of my life. Oft did I use _Job_’s words, _I loath it, I would not live alway_. And yet I was afraid to die. I had no rest; _My sore ran in the day, and in the night time it ceased not_. At night I wished for day, and in the day I wished for night. I said, _My couch shall comfort me; but then darkness was as the shadow of death_. I was often on the brink of despair. _He filled me with bitterness, he made me drunk with wormwood. He removed my soul far from peace: I forgat prosperity. I said my hope and my strength are perished from the Lord._ I wondered that I was not consumed; and though I dreaded destruction from the Almighty, yet I must have justified him if he had destroyed me. Thus I walked about dejected, weary and heavy laden: weary of my disease, and weary of my vain remedies; and utterly uncertain what to do next, or what course to take.