184. Now, also, the
tempter began afresh to mock my soul another way, saying that Christ, indeed,
did pity my case, and was sorry for my loss; but forasmuch as I had sinned and
transgressed, as I had done, he could by no means help me, nor save me from
what I feared; for my sin was not of the nature of theirs for whom he bled and
died, neither was it counted with those that were laid to his charge when he
hanged on the tree. Therefore, unless he should come down from heaven and die
anew for this sin, though, indeed, he did greatly pity me, yet I could have no
benefit of him. These things may seem ridiculous to others, even as ridiculous
as they were in themselves, but to me, they were most tormenting cogitations;
each of them augmented my misery, that Jesus Christ should have so much love
as to pity me when he could not help me; nor did I think that the reason why he
could not help me was that his merits were weak, or his grace and salvation
spent on them already, but because his faithfulness to his threatening would
not let him extend his mercy to me. Besides, I thought, as I have already
hinted, that my sin was not within the bounds of that pardon that was wrapped
up in a promise; and if not, then I knew assuredly, that it was easier for
heaven and earth to pass away than for me to have eternal life. So the
ground of all these fears of mine did arise from a steadfast belief that I had
of the stability of the holy Word of God, and also, from my being misinformed
of the nature of my sin.
185. But, oh! how
this would add to my affliction, to conceit that I should be guilty of such a
sin for which he did not die. These thoughts would so confound me, imprison
me, and tie me up from faith, that I knew not what to do; but, oh! thought I,
that he would come down again! Oh! That the work of man's redemption was yet to
be done by Christ! How would I pray to him and entreat him to count and reckon
this sin amongst the rest for which he died! But this scripture would strike me
down as dead, "Christ being raised from the dead dieth no more; death
hath no more dominion over him" (Rom 6:9).
186. Thus, by the
strange and unusual assaults of the tempter, was my soul, like a broken vessel,
driven as with the winds, and tossed sometimes headlong into despair, sometimes
upon the covenant of works, and sometimes to wish that the new covenant, and
the conditions thereof, might, so far forth as I thought myself concerned, be
turned another way and changed. But in all these I was but as those that justle
against the rocks; more broken, scattered, and rent. Oh, the unthought-of
imaginations, frights, fears, and terrors that are affected by a thorough
application of guilt, yielded to desperation! This is the man that hath
"his dwelling among the tombs" with the dead; that is, always crying
out and "cutting himself with stones" (Mark 5:2-5). But I say, all in
vain; desperation will not comfort him, the old covenant will not save him;
nay, heaven, and earth shall pass away before one jot or tittle of the Word and
law of grace shall fall or be removed. This I saw, this I felt, and under this, I groaned; yet this advantage I got thereby, namely, a further confirmation of
the certainty of the way of salvation, and that the Scriptures were the Word of
God! Oh! I cannot now express what then I saw and felt of the steadiness of
Jesus Christ, the rock of man's salvation; what was done could not be undone,
added to, nor altered. I saw, indeed, that sin might drive the soul beyond
Christ, even the sin which is unpardonable; but woe to him that was so driven,
for the Word would shut him out.
187. Thus was I
always sinking, whatever I did think or do. So one day I walked to a
neighboring town, sat down upon a settlement in the street, and fell into a
very deep pause about the most fearful state my sin had brought me to; and,
after long musing, I lifted up my head, but methought I saw as if the sun that
shineth in the heavens did grudge to give light, and as if the very stones in
the street, and tiles upon the houses, did bend themselves against me;
methought that they all combined together to banish me out of the world; I was
abhorred of them and unfit to dwell among them, or be partaker of their
benefits because I had sinned against the Saviour. O how happy, now, was every
creature over what I was; for they stood fast and kept their station, but I
was gone and lost.
188. Then breaking
out in the bitterness of my soul, I said 'to myself,' with a grievous sigh, How
can God comfort such a wretch as I? I had no sooner said it but this returned
upon me, as an echo doth answer a voice, This sin is not unto death. At which I
was as if I had been raised out of a grave, and cried out again, Lord, how
couldest thou find out such a word as this? for I was filled with admiration at
the fitness, and, also, at the unexpectedness of the sentence, 'the fitness of
the Word, the rightness of the timing of it, the power, and sweetness, and
light, and glory that came with it, also, was marvelous to me to find. I was
now, for the time, out of doubt as to that about which I so much was in doubt
before; my fears before were, that my sin was not pardonable, and so that I had
no right to pray, to repent, &c., or that if I did, it would be of no advantage
or profit to me. But now, thought I, if this sin is not unto death, then it is
pardonable; therefore, from this I have encouragement to come to God, by
Christ, for mercy, to consider the promise of forgiveness as that which stands
with open arms to receive me, as well as others. This, therefore, was a great
easement to my mind; to wit, that my sin was pardonable, that it was not the
sin unto death (1 John 5:16,17). None but those that know what my trouble, by
their own experience, was, can tell what relief came to my soul by this
consideration; it was a release to me from my former bonds and a shelter from
my former storm. I seemed now to stand upon the same ground with other sinners,
and to have as good right to the Word and prayer as any of them.'
