5. The sorrows of hell compassed me about. A cordon
of devils hemmed in the hunted man of God; every way of escape was closed up.
Satan knows how to blockade our coasts with the iron warships of sorrow, but,
blessed be God, the port of all prayer is still open, and grace can run the
blockade bearing messages from earth to heaven, and blessings in return from
heaven to earth. The snares of death prevented me. The case of this good
man was as hopeless as could be, so utterly desperate that none but an almighty
arm could be of any service. According to the four metaphors which he employs,
he was bound like a malefactor for execution; overwhelmed like a shipwrecked
mariner; surrounded and standing at bay like a hunted stag; and captured in a net
like a trembling bird. What more of terror and distress could meet upon one
poor defenseless head?
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