Rod
January 14th 08, 09:48 PM
they find that they begin to be
in dull and dead frames, troubled with wandering thoughts at the time of
public and private worship, and utterly unable to keep themselves from
them. When they find themselves unaffected, while yet there is the
greatest occasion to be affected; and when they feel worldly
dispositions working in them-pride, envy, stirrings of revenge, or some
ill spirit towards some person that has injured them, as well as other
workings of indwelling sin-their hearts are almost sunk with the
disappointment; and they are ready presently to think that they are mere
hypocrites.
They are ready to argue that, if God had indeed done such great things
for them, as they hoped, such ingratitude would be inconsistent with it.
They complain of the hardness and wickedness of their hearts; and say
there is so much corruption, that it seems to them impossible there
should be any goodness there. Many of them seem to be much more sensible
how corrupt their hearts are, than before they were converted; and some
have been too ready to be impressed with fear, that instead of becoming
better, they are grown much worse, and make it an argument against the
goodness of their state. But the truth, the case seems plainly to be,
that now they feel the pain of their own wound; they have a watchful eye
upon their hearts, that they did not use to have. They take more notice
of what sin is there, which is now more burdensome to them; they strive
more against it, and feel more of its strength.
They are somewhat surprised that they should in this respect find
themselves so different from the idea they generally had entertained of
godly persons. For, though grace be indeed of a far more excellent
nature than they imagined, yet those who are godly have much less of it,
and much more remaining corruption, than they thought. They never
realized it, that persons were wont to meet with such difficulties,
after they were once converted. When they are thus exercised with doubts
about thei
in dull and dead frames, troubled with wandering thoughts at the time of
public and private worship, and utterly unable to keep themselves from
them. When they find themselves unaffected, while yet there is the
greatest occasion to be affected; and when they feel worldly
dispositions working in them-pride, envy, stirrings of revenge, or some
ill spirit towards some person that has injured them, as well as other
workings of indwelling sin-their hearts are almost sunk with the
disappointment; and they are ready presently to think that they are mere
hypocrites.
They are ready to argue that, if God had indeed done such great things
for them, as they hoped, such ingratitude would be inconsistent with it.
They complain of the hardness and wickedness of their hearts; and say
there is so much corruption, that it seems to them impossible there
should be any goodness there. Many of them seem to be much more sensible
how corrupt their hearts are, than before they were converted; and some
have been too ready to be impressed with fear, that instead of becoming
better, they are grown much worse, and make it an argument against the
goodness of their state. But the truth, the case seems plainly to be,
that now they feel the pain of their own wound; they have a watchful eye
upon their hearts, that they did not use to have. They take more notice
of what sin is there, which is now more burdensome to them; they strive
more against it, and feel more of its strength.
They are somewhat surprised that they should in this respect find
themselves so different from the idea they generally had entertained of
godly persons. For, though grace be indeed of a far more excellent
nature than they imagined, yet those who are godly have much less of it,
and much more remaining corruption, than they thought. They never
realized it, that persons were wont to meet with such difficulties,
after they were once converted. When they are thus exercised with doubts
about thei