Even to Those Who May Have Ceased from It.


1. It is not without reason that I have dwelt so long on this
portion of my life. I see clearly that it will give no one
pleasure to see anything so base; and certainly I wish those who
may read this to have me in abhorrence, as a soul so obstinate
and so ungrateful to Him Who did so much for me. I could wish,
too, I had permission to say how often at this time I failed in
my duty to God, because I was not leaning on the strong pillar of
prayer. I passed nearly twenty years on this stormy sea, falling
and rising, but rising to no good purpose, seeing that I went and
fell again. My life was one of perfection; but it was so mean,
that I scarcely made any account whatever of venial sins; and
though of mortal sins I was afraid, I was not so afraid of them
as I ought to have been, because I did not avoid the perilous
occasions of them. I may say that it was the most painful life
that can be imagined, because I had no sweetness in God, and no
pleasure in the world.

2. When I was in the midst of the pleasures of the world, the
remembrance of what I owed to God made me sad; and when I was
praying to God, my worldly affections disturbed me. This is so
painful a struggle, that I know not how I could have borne it for
a month, let alone for so many years. Nevertheless, I can trace
distinctly the great mercy of our Lord to me, while thus immersed
in the world, in that I had still the courage to pray. I say
courage, because I know of nothing in the whole world which
requires greater courage than plotting treason against the King,
knowing that He knows it, and yet never withdrawing from His