True, sometimes they that come to Jesus Christ, come the way that thou desirest-the loading, tempted way; but the Lord also leads some by the waters of comfort.  If I was to choose when to go a long journey, to wit, whether I would go it in the dead of winter or in the pleasant spring-though if it was a very profitable journey, as that of coming to Christ is, I would choose to go it through fire and water before I would lose the benefit-but I say, if I might choose the time, I would choose to go in the pleasant spring, because the way would be more delightsome, the days longer and warmer, the nights shorter, and not so cold.

Trouble not thyself, coming sinner:  if thou seest thy lost condition by original and actual sin; if thou seest thy need of the spotless righteousness of Jesus Christ; if thou art willing to be found in him, and to take up thy cross and follow him, then pray for a fair wind and good weather, and come away.  Stick no longer in a muse and doubt about things, but come away to Jesus Christ.

6.  Thy fears that Christ will not receive thee may arise from those decays that thou findest in thy-soul, even while thou art coming to him.  Some, even as they are coming to Jesus Christ, do find themselves grow worse and worse.  To explain myself:  there is such a one coming to Jesus Christ, who, when he first began to look out after him, was sensible, affectionate, and broken in spirit, but now is grown dark, senseless, hard-hearted, and inclining to neglect spiritual duties.  Besides, he now finds in himself inclinations to unbelief, atheism, blasphemy, and the like; now, he finds he cannot tremble at God’s word, his judgments, nor the apprehension of hell-fire; neither can he, as he thinketh, be sorry for these things.

This man is in the wilderness among wild beasts.  Here he sees a bear, there a lion, yonder a leopard, a wolf, a dragon.  Devils of all sorts, doubts of all sorts, fears of all sorts haunt and molest his soul.  This man feeleth the infirmity of his flesh; he findeth a proneness in himself to be desperate.  Now he chides with God, flings and tumbles like a wild bull in a net, and still the guilt of all returns upon himself to the crushing of him to pieces.  Yet he feeleth his heart so hard that he can find, as he thinks, no kindness under any of his miscarriages.  Now, he is a lump of confusion in his own eyes, whose spirit and actions are without order.  “Now, I see I am lost,” says the sinner; “this is not coming to Jesus Christ; such a desperately hard and wretched heart as mine is, cannot be a gracious one,” saith the sinner.  And bid such a one be better, he says, “I cannot; no, I cannot.”

Question.  But what will you say to a soul in this condition?

Answer.  I will say, that temptations have attended the best of God’s people; I will say that temptations come to do us good; and I will say also, that there is a difference betwixt growing worse and worse, and thy seeing more clearly how bad thou art.