yet he never, did so much as put this question, But do you come aright? And I have thought the reason was, because he thought I knew full well what coming aright was; for I saw that to come aright was to come I was, a vile and ungodly sinner, and so cast myself at the feet of mercy, condemning myself for sin. If ever Satan and I did strive for any word of God in all my life, it was for this good word of Christ—he at one end and I at the other. Oh, what work we made! It was for this in John, I say, that we did so tug and strive. He pulled, and I pulled; but, God be praised, I overcame him—I got sweetness from it.
216. But notwithstanding all these helps and blessed words of grace, yea, that of Esau's selling of his birthright would still at times distress my conscience; for though I had been most sweetly comforted, and that but just before, yet when that came into my mind it would make me fear again. I could not be quite rid thereof; it would every day be with me. Wherefore now I went another way to work, even to consider the nature of this blasphemous thought; I mean, if I should take the words at the largest, and give them their own natural force and scope, even every word therein. So when I had thus considered, I found that if they were fairly taken they would amount to this: That I had freely left the Lord Jesus Christ to his choice, whether he would be my Saviour or no; for the wicked words were these, Let him go if he will. Then that scripture gave me hope, "I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee" (Heb. xiii. 5). O Lord, said I, but I have left thee. Then it answered again, But I will not leave thee. For this I thanked God also.
217. Yet I was grievous afraid he should, and found it exceeding hard to trust him, seeing I had so offended him. I could have been exceeding glad that this thought had never befallen, for then I thought I could, with more ease and freedom in abundance, have leaned on his grace. I saw it was
