The Pangs of a Tormented Conscience

If there be any hell in this world, they which feel the Worm of conscience gnaw upon their hearts, may truly say, that they have felt the torments of hell. Who can express that man's horror but himself? Sorrows are met in his oul at a feast: and fear, thought, and anguish divide his soul between them. all the furies of hell leaps upon his heart like a stage. Thought calleth to fear; fear whistleth to horror; Horror beckoneth to despair, and saith, come and help me to torment the sinner: One saith, that she cometh from this sin, and another saith, that she come from that sin: so he goeth through a thousand deaths, and cannot die. All his lights are put out at once: he hath no soul fit to be comforted. Thus he lies upon the rack, and saith that he bears the world upon his shoulders, and that no man suffereth that which he suffereth. So let him lie (saith God) without ease, until he confess and repent, and call for mercy. this is the godly way which the serpent said would make you God's and make him a devil.
—Henry Smith