CHAPTER III.
Of the revival of his convictions, and their effects till 1690.
1.IN the beginning of Autumn 1687, we returned home, and fixed at Perth. Here I was immediately sent to school, and made more progress in learning than before. But as to religion, I continued as unconcerned about, and as averse from it as ever. However I behaved myself under my mother’s eye, when I was with my comrades I took my full liberty; and, notwithstanding my greater knowledge, ran with them into all the same follies and extravagancies. And thus I continued till toward the close of king James’s reign; when the fear of some sudden stroke from the Papists, of which there was every where a great noise, revived my concern about religion. Of this, being somewhat deeper than before, I shall endeavour to give a distinct account.
2. It was about this time that God by the preaching of the word, and by catechizing in publick and private, enlightened my mind farther with the notional knowledge of the law, and of the gospel. And then sin was left without excuse, and conscience being armed with more knowledge, its checks were more frequent and sharp, and not so easily evaded; some touches of sickness too rivetted in me the impressions of frailty and mortality, and the tendency of each of those numerous diseases, to which we are daily exposed. And hereby I was brought into, and kept under continual bondage through fear of death.
3. I was now cast into the most grievous disquietude, having sorrow in my heart daily. I was in a dreadful strait betwixt two, on the one hand, my fears gave an edge to my convictions of sin. This made me attend more to the word of God; the more I attended to it, they increased the more; and I saw there was no way to be freed from them, but by being thoroughly religious. On the other hand if I should engage in religion in earnest, I saw the hazard of suffering, perhaps dying for it. And this I could not think of. Betwixt both I was dreadfully tost, so that for some nights, sleep went from my eyes. There was often imprest on my fancy, one holding a dagger to my breast, with “Quit your religion or die.” And that so strongly, that I have almost fainted under it, being still terribly unresolved what to do. Some times I would let him give the fatal stroke; but then my spirits failed, and my heart sunk within me. At other times I resolved to quit my religion, and take it again when the danger was past. But neither could I find rest here. What thought I, if he destroy me afterward, and so I loose both life and religion? Or what if I die, before the danger is past, and so have no time to take it again.
[♦]4. For near a year, few weeks, nay, few days and nights, past over me without these struggles. But after King James’s army was overthrown, on July 27, 1689, I soon grew as remiss as before. All my remaining difficulty was to stifle my convictions, which I endeavoured partly by a more careful attendance on outward duties, partly by promising to abstain from those sins, which most directly crost my light, and partly by resolving to enquire farther into the will of God, and to comply with it hereafter.
[♦] “3.” replaced with “4.”
5. But these courses afforded no solid repose. The first sin against light or omission of duty, shook all, and I was confounded at the thoughts of appearing before God in such a righteousness. Indeed, I had some ease when trials were at a distance; but it vanished on their approach. This was not gold tried in the fire; nor would it abide so much as a near view of danger; but at the very appearance of a storm, the foundation fell away.
6. The effects of my being thus exercised were: 1. I was brought to doubt of the truths of religion. Whenever I would have built on them in time of distress, a suspicion secretly haunted me; “What if these things are not so? Have I a certainty and evidence about them, answerable to the weight that is to be laid upon them?” Death and the trouble attending it, were certain things: but I was not so certain of the truths of religion. Still when, under apprehensions of death, I would have taken rest therein, but my mind began to waver. Not that I could give any reason for it; but the way of the wicked is as darkness; they know not at what they stumble. 2. I found plainly hereby that I could never have peace, till I came to another sort of certainty about religion. Death I saw was unavoidable and might be sudden; nor could I banish the thoughts of it. Therefore I concluded, “Unless I obtain such a conviction of religion, and such an interest in it, as will make me look death in the face, not only without fear, but with joy; good it were I had never been born.” But how or [♦]where this was to be obtained I was utterly uncertain. Here I lay in great perplexity, under the melancholly sense that I had hitherto spent my money for that which is not bread, and my labour for that which profiteth not. 3. This perplexity was somewhat eased one day, while I was reading how Mr. Robert Bruce was in a doubt, even concerning the being of God, who yet afterwards came to the fullest satisfaction. I then felt a secret hope, “That sometime in one way or other, God might thus satisfy me.” Here was the dawning of a light, which though if it was not soon cleared up, yet was never wholly put out again. A light which though as yet it was far from satisfying, yet kept me from utter despair.
[♦] “were” replaced with “where” per Errata