trembling, to consider every sentence, together with its natural force and latitude.
248. By this temptation also I was greatly holden off from my former foolish practice of putting by the word of promise when it came into my mind; for now, though I could not suck that comfort and sweetness from the promise as I had done at other times, yet, like to a man sinking, I would catch at all I saw. Formerly I thought I might not meddle with the promise unless I felt its comfort; but now 'twas no time thus to do, the avenger of blood too hardly did pursue me.
249. Now, therefore, was I glad to catch at that word which yet I feared I had no ground or right to own, and even to leap into the bosom of that promise that yet I feared did shut his heart against me. Now also I would labour to take the words as God hath laid it down, without restraining the natural force of one syllable thereof. Oh, what did I see in that blessed sixth chapter of St. John! "And him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out" (ver. 37). Now I began to consider with myself that God hath a bigger mouth to speak with than had a heart to conceive with. I thought also with myself that he spake not his words in haste, or in an unadvised heat, but with infinite wisdom and judgment, and in very truth and faithfulness, (2 Sam. iii, 18.)
250. I would in those days, often in my greatest agonies, even flounce towards the promise, as the horses go towards ground that yet stick in the mire, concluding, though as one almost bereft of his wits through fear, on this will. I rest and stay, and leave the fulfilling of it to the God of heaven that made it. Oh, many a pull hath my heart had with Satan for that blessed sixth chapter of St. John! I did not now, as at other times, look principally for comfort, though, oh, how welcome it have been unto me! But now a word, a word to lean a weary soul, that it might not sink for ever—'twas that I hunted for.
251. Yea, often when I have been making to the promise,
