2. Certain it is, that the condition wherein these are, has a right to the tenderest compassion. They labour under an evil and sore disease; though one that is not commonly understood. And for this very reason it is the more difficult for them to find a remedy. Being in darkness themselves, they cannot be supposed to understand the nature of their own disorder. And few of their brethren, nay perhaps, of their teachers, know either what their sickness is, or how to heal it. So much the more need there is to enquire, first, What is the nature of this disease; secondly, What is the cause, and thirdly, What is the cure of it.

I. And, first, What is the nature of this disease, into which so many fall, after they have believed? Wherein does it properly consist? And what are the genuine symptoms of it? It properly consists in the loss of that faith which God once wrought in their heart. They that are in the wilderness have not now that divine evidence, that satisfactory conviction of things not seen which they once enjoyed. They have not now that inward demonstration of the Spirit, which before enabled each of them to say, The life I live, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. The light of heaven does not now shine in their hearts, neither do they see him that is invisible: but darkness is again on the face of their souls, and blindness on the eyes of their understanding. The Spirit no longer witnesses with their spirits, that they are the children of God; neither does he continue, as the Spirit of adoption, crying in their hearts, Abba, Father. They have not now a sure trust in his love, and a liberty of approaching him with holy boldness. Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him, is no more the language of their heart: but they are shorn of their strength, and become weak and feeble-minded, even as other men.

2. Hence, secondly, proceeds the loss of love, which cannot but rise or fall, at the same time, and in the same proportion, with true, living faith. Accordingly, they that are deprived of their faith, are deprived of the love of God also. They cannot now say, Lord, thou knowest all things: thou knowest that I love thee. They are not now happy in God, as every one is, that truly loves him. They do not delight in him as in time past, and smell the odour of his ointments. Once, all their desire was unto him, and to the remembrance of his name. But now even their desires are cold and dead, if not utterly extinguished. And as their love of God is waxed cold, so is also their love of their neighbour. They have not now that zeal for the souls of men, that longing after their welfare, that fervent, restless, active desire of their being reconciled to God. They do not feel those bowels of mercies for the sheep that are lost, that tender compassion for the ignorant and them that are out of the way. Once they were gentle toward all men, meekly instructing such as opposed the truth, and if any was overtaken in a fault, restoring such an one in the spirit of meekness. But after a suspense, perhaps of many days, anger begins to regain its power. Yea, peevishness and impatience thrust sore at them that they may fall. And it is well if they are not sometimes driven, even to render evil for evil, and railing for railing.

3. In consequence of the loss of faith and love, follows, thirdly, Loss of joy in the Holy Ghost. For if the loving consciousness of pardon be no more, the joy resulting therefrom cannot remain. If the Spirit does not witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God, the joy that flowed from that inward witness, must also be at an end. And in like manner, they who once rejoiced with joy unspeakable, in hope of the glory of God, now they are deprived of that hope full of immortality, are deprived of the joy it occasioned: as also of that which resulted from a consciousness of the love of God then shed abroad in their hearts. For the cause being removed, so is the effect: the fountain being dammed up, those living waters spring no more, to refresh the thirsty soul.

4. With loss of faith and love and joy, there is also joined, fourthly, the loss of that peace which once past all understanding. That sweet tranquillity of mind, that composure of spirit is gone. Painful doubt returns: doubt whether we ever did, and perhaps whether we ever shall believe. We begin to doubt, whether we ever did find in our hearts, the real testimony of the Spirit? Whether we did not rather deceive our own souls, and mistake the voice of nature for the voice of God? Nay, and perhaps, whether we shall ever hear his voice, and find favour in his sight. And these doubts are again joined with servile fear, with that fear which hath torment. We fear the wrath of God, even as before we believed: we fear lest we should be cast out of his presence; and thence sink again into that fear of death, from which we were before wholly delivered.

5. But even this is not all. For loss of peace is accompanied with loss of power. We know, every one who has peace with God through Jesus Christ, has power over all sin. But whenever he loses the peace of God, he loses also the power over sin. While that peace remained, power also remained, even over the besetting sin; whether it were the sin of his nature, of his constitution, of his education, or his profession: yea, and over those evil tempers and desires, which ’till then he could not conquer. Sin had then no more dominion over him: but he hath now no more dominion over sin. He may struggle indeed, but he cannot overcome; the crown is fallen from his head. His enemies again prevail over him, and more or less bring him into bondage. The glory is departed from him, even the kingdom of God which was in his heart. He is dispossessed of righteousness, as well as of peace and joy in the Holy Ghost.

II. 1. Such is the nature of what many have termed, and not improperly, the wilderness-state. But the nature of it may be more fully understood, by enquiring, secondly, What are the causes of it? These indeed are various. But I dare not rank among these, the bare, arbitrary, sovereign will of God. He rejoiceth in the prosperity of his servants: he delighteth not to afflict or grieve the children of men. His invariable will is our sanctification, attended with peace and joy in the Holy Ghost. These are his own free gifts: and we are assured the gifts of God are, on his part, without repentance. He never repenteth of what he hath given, or desires to withdraw them from us. Therefore he never deserts us, as some speak: it is we only that desert him.

2. The most usual cause of inward darkness is sin of one kind or another. This it is which generally occasions what is often a complication of sin and misery. And, first, Sin of commission. This may frequently be observed to darken the soul in a moment: especially if it be a known, a wilful or presumptuous sin. If for instance, a person who is now walking in the clear light of God’s countenance, should be any way prevailed on to commit a single act of drunkenness or uncleanness, it would be no wonder if in that very hour he fell into utter darkness. It is true, there have been some very rare cases, wherein God has prevented this, by an extraordinary display of his pardoning mercy, almost in the very instant. But in general, such an abuse of the goodness of God, so gross an insult on his love, occasions an immediate estrangement from God, and a darkness that may be felt.

3. But it may be hoped, this case is not very frequent; that there are not many who so despise the riches of his goodness, as while they walk in his light, so grosly and presumptuously to rebel against him. That light is much more frequently lost, by giving way to sins of omission. This indeed does not immediately quench the Spirit, but gradually and slowly. The former may be compared to pouring water upon a fire: the latter to withdrawing the fewel from it. And many times will that loving Spirit reprove our neglect, before he departs from us. Many are the inward checks, the secret notices he gives, before his influences are withdrawn. So that only a train of omissions wilfully persisted in, can bring us into utter darkness.

4. Perhaps no sin of omission more frequently occasions this, than the neglect of private prayer; the want whereof cannot be supplied by any other ordinance whatever. Nothing can be more plain, than that the life of God in the soul does not continue, much less increase, unless we use all opportunities of communing with God, and pouring out our hearts before him. If therefore we are negligent of this, if we suffer business, company, or any avocation whatever, to prevent these secret exercises of the soul, (or which comes to the same thing, to make us hurry them over in a slight and careless manner) that life will surely decay. And if we long or frequently intermit them, it will gradually die away.