*2. Another thing was, that _faith alone_ was the _condition of salvation_; and that God would not come down to lower terms; that he would not promise life and salvation upon my sincere prayers and endeavours. That word, Mark xvi. 16. “He that believeth not, shall be damned,” cut off all hope there; and I found, faith was the gift of God; that I could not get it of myself, and could not oblige God to bestow it upon me, by any of my performances. “This,” I was ready to say, “is a hard saying, who can bear it?” I could not bear, that all I had done should stand for a mere nothing, who had been very conscientious in duty, and had been exceeding religious a great while, and had (as I thought) done much more than many others that had obtained mercy. I confessed indeed the vileness of my duties; but then, what made them at that time seem vile, was my wandering thoughts in them; not because I was all over defiled, and the principle corrupt from whence they flowed, so that I could not possibly do any thing that was good. And therefore I called what I did, by the name of faithful endeavours; and could not bear it, that God had made no promises of salvation to them.
*3. Another thing was, that I could not find out how to come to Christ. I read the calls of Christ, made to the _weary_ and _heavy laden_; but could find no way that he directed them to come in. I thought I would gladly come, if I knew _how_, though the path of duty directed to what was never so difficult. Mr. Stoddard’s _Guide_ to _Christ_ did not tell me any thing I could do, that would bring me to Christ, but left me as it were with a great gulph between me and Christ, without any direction to get through. For I was not yet experimentally taught, that there could be no way prescribed, whereby a natural man could of his own strength, obtain that which is supernatural, and which the highest angel cannot give.
*All this time the Spirit of God was powerfully at work with me; and I was inwardly pressed to relinquish all _self-confidence_, all hopes of ever helping myself by any means whatsoever; and the conviction of my _lost_ estate was sometimes so clear, that it was as if it had been declared to me in so many words, “It is done, it is for ever impossible to deliver yourself.” For about three or four days, my soul was thus distressed, especially at some turns, when for a few moments I seemed to myself lost and undone: but then would shrink back immediately from the sight, because I dared not venture myself into the hands of God, as wholly helpless. I dared not see that important truth, that I was _dead in trespasses and sins_. But when I had thrust away these views of myself at any time, I was distressed to have the same discoveries again: for I greatly feared being given over of God to final stupidity. When I thought of putting it off to a _more convenient season_, the conviction was so powerful with regard to the present time, that it was the best time, and probably the only time, that I dared not to put it off. Yet my soul shrank away from it; I could see no safety in throwing myself into the hands of God, and that I could lay no claim to any thing better than damnation.
*But after a considerable time spent in such distresses, one morning, while I was walking in a solitary place, as usual, I at once saw that all my contrivances to procure salvation for myself, were utterly _in vain_: I was brought quite to a stand as finding myself totally _lost_. I had thought many times, that the difficulties were very great; but now I saw, that it was for ever impossible for me to do any thing towards delivering myself. I then blamed myself, that I had not done more, while I had opportunity; (for it seemed now as if the season of doing was for ever over and gone.) But I instantly saw, that let me have done what I would, it would no more have tended to my helping myself, than what I had done; that I had made all the pleas I ever could have made to all eternity; and that all my pleas were vain. The _tumult_ that had been before in my mind, was now _quieted_; and I was something eased of that distress, which I felt, while struggling against a sight of myself. I had the greatest certainty that my state was forever miserable, for all that I could do: and was astonished that I had never been sensible of it before.
While I remained in this state, my _notions_ respecting my _duties_, were quite different from what I had ever entertained in times past. Now I saw, there was no necessary connection between my prayers and the divine mercy: that they laid not the least obligation upon God to bestow his grace upon me; and that there was no more goodness in them, than there would be in my paddling with my hand in the water; and this because they were not performed from any love to God. I saw that I had heaped up my devotions before God, fasting, praying, &c. really thinking I was aiming at the glory of God; whereas I never once truly intended it.¹
¹ I doubt that.