to indulge in religious speculations, still his mind was unsettled,
and full of fears. He now became alarmed lest he had not been
effectually called to inherit the kingdom of heaven.[89] He felt
still more humbled at the weakness of human nature, and at the
poverty of wealth. Could this call have been gotten for money, and
'could I have given it; had I a whole world, it had all gone ten
thousand times over for this.' In this he was sincere, and so he
was when he said, I would not lose one promise, or have it struck
out of the Bible, if in return I could have as much gold as would
reach from London to York, piled up to the heavens. In proportion
to his soul's salvation, honour was a worthless phantom, and gold
but glittering dust. His earnest desire was to hear his Saviour's
voice calling him to his service. Like many young disciples, he
regretted not having been born when Christ was manifest in the flesh.
'Would I had been Peter or John!' their privations, sufferings,
martyrdom, was nothing in comparison to their being with, and hearing
the voice of the Son of God calling them to his service. Strange,
but general delusion! as if Christ were not the same yesterday, to
day, and for ever. Groaning for a sense of pardon, he was comforted
by Joel--'I will cleanse their blood that I have not cleansed,
for the Lord dwelleth in Zion' (Joel 3:21), and he was led to seek
advice and assistance from a neighbouring minister, and from pious
persons.

The poor women in Bedford, whose conversation had been blessed to
his thorough awakening, were sought for, and to them he unfolded his
sorrows. They were members of a Baptist church, under the pastoral
care of John Gifford, a godly, painstaking, and most intelligent
minister, whose history is very remarkable. In early life he had
been, like Bunyan, a thoroughly depraved character; like him had