[2.] They are yet further differenced, in that all that God doth in this work is still according to truth. For if he signify to the unconverted that they are in a state of nature, liable to the damnation of hell, unless they accept of Christ for salvation upon his terms, this is no more than what is true. God doth not misrepresent their case to them at that time. Again, if he express his displeasure to any of his converted children that have grieved his Spirit by their follies, by setting before them the threatenings of his word, or the examples of his wrath, he doth but truly tell them that he is angry with them, and that de jure, according to the rigour of the law and the demerit of their offence he might justly cast them off; but he doth not positively say that, de eventu, it shall infallibly be so with them. But Satan, in both these cases, goes a great way further. He plainly affirms to those that are in the way to conversion, that God will not pardon their iniquities, that there is no hope for them, that Christ will not accept them, that he never intended the benefit of his sufferings for them. And when the converted do provoke God, he sticks not to say the breach cannot be healed, and that they are not yet converted. All which are most false assertions. And though God can make use of Satan’s malice, when he abuseth his children with his falsehoods to their great fear, to carry on his own ends by it, and to give a greater impression to what he truly witnesseth against them; yet is not God the proper author of Satan’s lying, for he doth it of his own wicked inclination. The effect of these desperate false conclusions, which is the putting his children into a fear in order to his end, may be ascribed to God; but the falsehood of these conclusions are formally Satan’s work and not God’s; for he makes use of so much of Satan’s wrath as may be to his praise, and the ‘remainder of his wrath he doth restrain,’ [Ps. lxxvi. 10.]

I have discovered the nature and degrees of these spiritual troubles, and that it is a common thing for the children of God to fall under them. For the further opening of them I shall next discover,

3. The usual solemn occasions that do, as it were, invite Satan to give his onset against God’s children; and they are principally these six:—

[1.] The time of conversion. He delights to set on them when they are in the straits of a new birth, for then the conscience is awakened, the danger of sin truly represented, fear and sorrow, in some degree, necessary and unavoidable. At this time he can easily overdrive them. Where the convictions are deep and sharp, ready to weigh them down, a few grains more cast into the scale will make the trouble, as Job speaks, ‘heavier than the sand,’ [chap. vi. 3;] and where they are more easy or gentle, yet the soul being unsettled, the thoughts in commotion, they are disposed to receive a strong impression, and to be turned, as wax to the seal, into a mould of hopelessness and desperation. That this is one of Satan’s special occasions, we need no other evidence for satisfaction than the common experience of converts. Many of them do hardly escape the danger, and after their difficult conquest of the troubles of their heart—which at that time are extraordinarily enlarged—do witness that they are assaulted with desperate fears that their sins were unpardonable, and sad conclusions against any expectation of favour from the Lord their God. These thoughts we are sure the Spirit of God will not bear witness unto, because false, and therefore we must leave them at Satan’s door.

[2.] Another occasion which Satan makes use of, is the time of solemn repentance for some great sin committed after conversion. Sometimes God’s children fall, to the breaking of their bones. What great iniquities they may commit through the force of temptation, I need not mention. The adultery and murder of David; the incest of the Corinthian; Peter’s denial of Christ, with other sad instances in the records of the Scriptures, do speak enough of that. These sins—considering their heinousness, the scandal of religion, the dishonour of God, the grieving of his Spirit, the condition of the party offending against love, knowledge, and the various helps which God affords them to the contrary, with other aggravating circumstances—being very displeasing to God, their consciences at least, either compelled to examination by God immediately, or mediately by some great affliction, or voluntarily awakening to a serious consideration of what hath been done, by the working of its own light, assisted thereunto by quickening grace, 1 Cor. xi. 31, 32,—call them to a strict account. Thence follow fear, shame, self-indignation, bitter weeping, deep humiliation. Then comes Satan; he rakes their wounds, and by his aggravations makes them smart the more. He pours in corrosives instead of oil, and all to make them believe that their ‘spot is not the spot of God’s children,’ [Deut. xxxii. 5;] that their backslidings cannot be healed. An occasion it is, as suitable to his malice as he could wish; for ordinarily God doth severely testify his anger to them, and doth not easily admit them again to the sense of his favour. At which time the adversary is very busy to work up their hearts to an excess of fear and sorrow. This was the course which he took with the incestuous Corinthian, taking advantage of his great transgressions to ‘overwhelm him with too much sorrow,’ 2 Cor. ii. 7, 11.

[3.] Satan watcheth the discomposures of the spirits of God’s children, under some grievous cross or affliction. This occasion also falls fit for his design of wounding the conscience. When the hand of the Lord is lifted up against them, and their thoughts disordered by the stroke, suggesting at that time God’s anger to them and their sins, he can easily frame an argument from these grounds, that they are not reconciled to God, and that they are dealt withal as enemies. David seldom met with outward trouble, but he at the same time had a conflict with Satan about his spiritual condition or state, as his frequent deprecations of divine wrath at such times do testify; ‘Lord, rebuke me not in thy wrath,’ &c. There is indeed but a step betwixt discomposure of spirit and spiritual troubles, as hath been proved before.

[4.] When Satan hath prepared the hearts of God’s children by atheistical or blasphemous thoughts, he takes that occasion to deny their grace and interest in Christ, and the argument at that time seems unanswerable. Can Christ lodge in a heart so full of horrid blasphemies against him? Is it possible it should be washed and sanctified, when it produceth such filthy, cursed thoughts? All the troubles of affrightment, of which before, are improvable to this purpose.

[5.] Another spiritual occasion for spiritual trouble is melancholy. Few persons distempered therewith do escape Satan’s hands. At one time or other he casts his net over them, and seeks to stab them with his weapon. Melancholy indeed affords so many advantages to him, and those so answerable to his design, that it is no wonder if he make much of it. For, 1. Melancholy affects both head and heart; it affords both fear and sadness, and deformed, misshapen, delirious imaginations to work upon, than which nothing can be more for his purpose.[341] For where the heart trembles and the head is darkened, there every object is misrepresented. The ideas of the brain are monstrous appearances, reflected from opaque and dark spirits, so that Satan hath no more to do but to suggest the new matter of fear. For that question, Whether the man be converted, &c., being once started, to a mind already distempered with fear, must of itself, it being a business of so high a nature, without Satan’s further pursuit, summon the utmost powers of sadness and misreprehension[342] to raise a storm. 2. Besides, the impressions of melancholy are always strong. It is strong in its fears, or else men would never be tempted to destroy themselves; it is strong in its mistakes, or else they could never persuade themselves of the truth of foolish, absurd, and impossible fancies; as that of Nebuchadnezzar, who by a delusive apprehension, believing himself to be a beast, forsook the company of men, and betook to the fields to eat grass with oxen. The imaginations of the melancholic are never idle, and yet straitened or confined to a few things; and then the brain, being weakened as to a true and regular apprehension, it frames nothing but bugbears, and yet with the highest confidence of certainty. 3. These impressions are usually lasting, not vanishing as an early dew, but they continue for months and years. 4. And yet they have only so much understanding left them as serves to nourish their fears. If their understanding had been quite gone, their fears would vanish with them, as the flame is extinguished for want of air; but they have only knowledge to let them see their misery, and sense to make them apprehensive of their pain.[343] And therefore will they pray with floods of tears, unexpressible groanings, deepest sighing, and trembling joints, to be delivered from their fears. 5. They are also apt after ease of their troubles to have frequent returns. What disposition, all these things being considered, can be more exactly shaped to serve Satan’s turn? If he would have men to believe the worst of themselves, he hath such imaginations to work upon as are already misshapen into a deformity of evil surmising. Would he terrify by fears or distress by sadness? he hath that already, and it is but altering the object, which oftentimes needs not—for naturally the serious melancholic employs all his griefs upon his supposed miserable estate of soul, and then he hath spiritual distress. Would he continue them long under their sorrows, or take them upon all occasions at his pleasure, or act them to a greater height than ordinary? still the melancholic temper suits him. This is sufficient for caution, that we take special care of our bodies, for the preventing or abating of that humour by all lawful means, if we would not have the devil to abuse us at his will.

[6.] Sickness or death-bed is another solemn occasion which the devil seldom misseth with his will. Death is a serious thing; it represents the soul and eternity to the life. While they are at a distance, men look slightly upon these; but when they approach near to them, men usually have such a sight of them as they never had before. We may truly call sickness and death-bed an hour of temptation, which Satan will make use of with the more mischievous industry, because he hath but ‘a short time’ for it. That is the last conflict, and if he miss that, we are beyond his reach for ever. So that in this case Satan encourageth himself to the battle with a now or never. And hence we find that it is usual for the dying servants of God to undergo most sharp encounters. Then to tell them, when the soul is about to loose from the body, that they are yet ‘in their blood’ ‘without God and hope,’ is enough to affright them into the extremest agonies, for they see no time before them answerable to so great a work, if it be yet to do. And withal they are under vast discouragements from the weariness and pains of sickness, their understandings and faculties being also dull and stupified, so that if at this last plunge God should not extraordinarily appear to rebuke Satan and to pluck them out of these great waters, as he often doth, by the fuller interposition of the light of his face, and the larger testimony of his Spirit, after their long and comfortable profession of their faith and holy walking, their light would be ‘put out in darkness,’ and they would ‘lie down in sorrow.’ Yet this I must note, that as desirous as Satan is to improve this occasion, he is often remarkably disappointed, and that wherein he, it may be, and we would least expect, I mean in regard of those who, through a timorous disposition or melancholy, or upon other accounts, are, as I may so say, ‘all their lifetime subject to bondage.’ Those men who are usually exercised with frequent fits of spiritual trouble, when they come to sickness, death-bed, and some other singular occasions of trouble, though we might suspect their fears would then be working, if ever, yet God, out of gracious indulgence to them, considering their mould and fashion, or because he would prevent their extreme fainting, &c., doth meet them with larger testimonies of his favour, higher joys, more confident satisfactions in his love, than ever they received at any time before, and this, to their wonder, their high admiration, making the times which they were wont to fear most, to be times of greatest consolation. This observation I have grounded not upon one or two instances, but could produce a cloud of witnesses for it. Enough it is to check our forward fears of a future evil day, and to heal us of a sighing distemper, while we afflict ourselves with such thoughts as these: If I have so many fears in health, how shall I be able to go through the valley of the shadow of death?

4. I have one thing more to add for these discoveries of these spiritual troubles, and that is to shew you the engines by which Satan works them, and they are these two, sophistry and fears.