prayer. Now was I persuaded that I was converted, and was come to that pitch which formerly I wanted; and all the clouds evanished which were betwixt the Lord and my soul. This continued in its strength only for a quarter of an hour, and then it abated as to its measure, though not altogether; but something remained. After I rose from prayer, I went to the fields, and there sang songs of triumph. I comforted myself in my new con dition, and prophesied to myself much more, seeing these were but the beginnings. Nor did I think that my happiness could be equalled by any; and now was I fully content to communicate. I longed for some quiet place to pour out my soul unto the Lord; for I thought he would return, but he did it not. I bore the first repulse, hoping that at last the Lord would return. All scruples, fears, and doubts, were banished. I went to bed; and when I was lyen down, Now, said I, sleep securely, and so thou mayest, seeing thou art reconciled to God. Never could I do it one night before; but now let heaven and earth go together. I thought now, no Scriptures for me but such as were directed to saints, and therefore read some chapters of the Second Epistle of Peter, but found little life. This did shake me. I read some on Isaac Ambrose, and some marks he had of worthy communicants, of faith, love, and knowledge, and the evidence of the Spirit shining. I thought I had these marks; yet the withdrawing of my life and glory raised doubts in me, until, by prayer, again I got some of the glory of Christ seen, which revived me. And I was much affected with reading Isaac Ambrose's New Birth, and I thought there was never any thing so sweet.

SECTION II.

Of some Tentations and Clouds which thereafter followed, and how delivered out of them.

§ 1. The Lord withdrawing that comfortable presence which I enjoyed before, humbled me very much, and mists began to arise,

and the sky to darken. But that which indeed raised my exercise to some height was reading on Shepherd's Sound Believer, wherein he describes the manner of true conversion. And as I read, I apprehended that God had not dealt thus with me, and that I had not found such a work on my spirit as he describes, (this was through misunderstanding him,) and therefore that I was not as yet converted; and therefore that my communicating would be still an eating unworthily. And seeing what I met with was not Christ, I knew not who he might be, or what I should do; and so was turned desperate. This wrought sorrow in my heart for a natural condition, and I sought the Lord in heaviness of heart, and indeed was not idle; but discouragements increased, and still nothing but absence, insomuch as I thought my condition worse than ever. I sought the Lord night and day, as much through sense of the danger of the want of him as through anything else; but all would not do. Neither weekly sermons, books, counsels, nor prayers, could draw Jesus till his hour was come. I was then but ignorant, and knew not how to live by faith, and, wanting sense, was discouraged. The Sabbath came on which the sacrament was to be given; my fears and sorrows increased, and I was tempted not to communicate. There was one Mr R. B. serving the tables; he proponed an objection which some doubting Christians might have : "Many will say," saith he, "Oh! I fear to draw on more guilt in my communicating. But, Oh!" said he, "would to God that there were many of this judgment! But I will tell thee, poor doubting thing, whether thou mayest come or not. Tell me, wast thou seeking Christ or not this week?" "Yes," quoth I quietly. "It is like thou hast found something then. And did Christ drop in myrrh in the lock of the door of thy heart ere he went away ? Know it, poor soul, he will come again, for that is his token; and thou mayest come here, and in his name I invite thee." This drew me to come, though I found no sensible presence at the time; and thereupon ensued great fears. Yet the same Mr R. B. did, in the afternoon, encourage me again, so as I resolved to pluck up my heart again.

VOL. II.

§ 2. I finding these discouragements did no good, and that comforting of my heart did no ill, did resolve to cheer myself, and used some general encouraging considerations to myself, and therewith was some way strengthened to go about my generation work. Thou art now engaged to be the Lord's servant; wait upon him, and trust thy reward unto him. This advice did no ill. Thereafter sermons were very sweet unto me, and so was the exercise of all spiritual duties, so as I grew in the knowledge of the ways of God; and the more I knew, I was the more delighted in him. Every spiritual duty did relish with me, and I was not well but when out of one duty into another; yea, the most cold prayers and discourses anent godliness were sweet, and opportunities of prayer and getting good were highly prized by me. I began, within a month's time thereafter, to be more slack; but the Lord warned me of it, and I mended my pace.

§ 3. Thus was the everlasting seed sown that was the light of glory then arising upon my soul. But this did not long continue; for thereafter shortly there arose a more grievous storm, and of longer continuance than any I had met with yet: for the sacrament being to be given in the town about that time, I resolved to partake thereof, to see if I could get anything from God; and for this cause prepared myself diligently, and went about the work of self-examination. But being but young, and having small experience of my own heart, I could get little clearness; however, this exercise stirred up some things ready to die in me, and I did still grow in the knowledge and love of the truth; until one afternoon, which I had set apart for seeking of God, I was reading on Luke, 22d chap., where Christ did eat the passover with his disciples; and reading these words, "and the twelve apostles with him," I know not how it came to pass, but, reflecting on my deadness in reading such love as this, I concluded I had no grace; and, withal, observing how Christ was so familiar with his apostles, and how unkind to me, the apprehensions of distance and separation from Christ were so fearful, that incontinently the wind was up very boisterous, and I was brought again to the rack. Then did my

evil nature discover itself to me, and then did I murmur and fret against God, that was so kind to others, and yet kept such distance with me. I envied, as I thought, the very apostles with some despite, as I conceived. Fretting and murmuring did but like rain increase the floods, and nowise abate them; so that in sorrow and bitterness of heart, I walked up and down for want of God, whom I could not find, nor knew how to seek, and under the sensible apprehensions of his wrath, and of an unconverted condition. All these things, with the fearful frame of my spirit, did put me in great horror, so that I utterly lost almost all hope. But these winds, through some process of time, were calmed, and in one of my calm fits I read on "Shepherd's Sincere Convert," this being the first time I ever saw it. I had not read four leaves of him when I was thrown on my back. The first arrow that did stick in my reins, and went into my heart, was from these words: "The children of God do nothing for fear of hell; they loathe to live like slaves in Bridewell, and like dogs for fear of the whip." Upon this my slavish acting was discovered, and therefore I concluded, that wanting that kindly spirit that acts out of love, which, indeed, as then did not appear, being under a strong fit of the spirit of bondage; I say, not finding this, I concluded I was yet "in the gall of bitterness." I went after dinner through the fields, and read that book all through; and the power of God was present. And reading what lengths hypocrites might come, and the sadness of an unconverted condition, and the great difficulty of saving conversion, I was wounded through and through. My condition was now worse than ever, and I was brought to a certain despair; only I knew not what to think of the last glorious sight I had of Christ. But as I read forward I was put out of that doubt. In the same author's discourse of a false spirit, which is a means by which a false peace is begotten, he goes on and compares it with the Spirit of God, and saith, "That as the Spirit of God doth humble, so likewise doth the false spirit; and that this false spirit did reveal Christ, and fill the soul with glorious apprehensions of him, so that the man seems to be wrapt up to heaven, and hence

eries, My Lord, and my God."" Here was all thou met with, said my conscience; this did put the business out of all doubt, and I counted what I met with formerly but a delusion of Satan. And here all props were taken away, and by this means a breach was made to all tentations to enter in; and the devil seeing his time, entered in with a whole sea of horrors. Then was brought to my mind my old sin of blasphemy again, and vehemently urged that I had sinned the sin against the Holy Ghost, which with such violence he pressed, as I could get nothing spoken for myself. And that which did heighten all this was, that the law brake in upon me, that sin might become exceeding sinful, and wrought in me all manner of disobedience; for my heart murmured, fretted, and swelled against God for guiding me thus; and having terrible apprehensions of him, I could not love him. And now, said conscience, see how thou smellest already of hell; how canst thou imagine that God will look upon thee that hast such a cursed nature? The brand of the reprobate is upon thee; why wilt thou therefore pray or hope any more? Yet notwithstanding would I pray, and that frequently; I know not what put me out to it. Many times did I grovel on the ground, and sought his favour, pity, and compassion; then was it that my tears were my meat : then was prayer bitterness to me, and my mouth closed, and I as it were bound with bands; for God was never more terrible than when I approached to him in prayer. I remember one day praying out in the fields, I had this expression: Lord, said I, if thou wilt for nothing else compassionate me, yet compassionate my young years; and yet I know not how thou canst break thy faithful word, who hast said that such as sin against the Holy Ghost shall never be pardoned. Nature seeks its own preservation, and, therefore, having no other shift to make, I applied myself to the Lord only. And now my greatest trouble was concerning the unpardonableness of my sins, especially that particular sin of blasphemy; yet would my spirit calm betwixt hands, and be at ease for a while. I thought the devil had a great hand in my tentasions; for, said I, while I was walking after the flesh there was