9. I lay under many inconveniences all this while. Most of the converse I had was with unholy men. I had no friend to whom I could impart my griefs with freedom, or any prospect of satisfaction. And the entire concealing my concern made it fasten more and more, and drink up my blood and spirits. I laid aside my studies; I could not pursue either business or diversion: I had no heart to any thing; I could not read, unless now and then a small portion of scripture, or some other practical book (except when, for a short space, there was an intermission of my trouble.) For near a year and a half I read scarce any thing; and this slothful posture laid me open to fresh temptations, and made my corruptions grow stronger still. 10. Yet even now, God minding his own work, by the means of his word, brought the law, in its spiritual meaning, nearer. And then I found more discernibly the stirrings of sin, which taking occasion from the commandment, and being fretted at the light let into my soul, wrought in me all manner of concupiscence. Hereby I was plunged into deeper guilt; _My iniquities went over my head_; and my conscience was so alarmed, _that I found no rest in my bones by reason of my sin_. 11. I still laboured for rest, either by extenuating my faults, pleading the strength of temptation, (sometimes not without secret reflections upon God) or by trying to persuade myself they were no faults at all. When all these failed, I made new vows and resolutions; and _November 23, 1697_, (a day I had set apart for fasting and prayer) I drew up a short account of my treacherous dealing with God from my youth up, and solemnly bound myself to him for the time to come. 12. But tho’ by this means I was kept from open pollutions; tho’ I was careful of outward duties; received the word with joy; watched against pride of heart, unbelief, and other spiritual evils; though I fasted, prayed, mourned, and was much in secret; yea, strove against all sins, even those I loved best; yet all this was only a form of religion, the power of which I was still a stranger to. I was a stranger to that blessed relief of sinners, faith imputed for righteousness. Though I professed to believe it, I was really in the dark, as to its glorious efficacy, tendency and design. Still my eye was not single; I regarded only myself, and not the glory of God. It was still by some righteousness of my own, in whole or in part, that I sought relief. Though I did part with my beloved sins, yet it was neither without reluctance, nor without some secret reserve. Lastly, My heart was utterly averse from all spiritual religion: and if I sometimes aimed at fixing my mind on heavenly things; yet it was soon weary of this forcible bent, and it seemed intolerable to think of being always spiritual.