THE LIFE AND DIARY OF THE REV. DAVID BRAINERD WITH NOTES AND REFLECTIONS. __________________________________________________________________ PREFACE. THERE are two ways of representing and recommending true religion and virtue to the world; the one, by doctrine and precept; the other, by instance and example; both are abundantly used in the Holy Scriptures. Not only are the grounds, nature, design, and importance of religion clearly exhibited in the doctrine of scripture its exercise and practice plainly delineated, and abundantly enforced, in its commands and counsels but there we have many excellent examples of religion, in its power and practice, set before us, in the histories both of the Old and New Testament. JESUS CHRIST, the great Prophet of God, when he came to be "the light of the world" to teach and enforce true religion, in a greater degree than ever had been before made use of both these methods. In his doctrine, he not only declared the mind and will of God the nature and properties of that virtue which becomes creatures of our make and in our circumstances more clearly and fully than ever it had been before; and more powerfully enforced it by what he declared of the obligations and inducements to holiness; but he also in his own practice gave a most perfect example of the virtue he taught. He exhibited to the world such an illustrious pattern of humility, divine love, discreet zeal, self-denial, obedience, patience, resignation, fortitude, meekness, forgiveness, compassion, benevolence, and universal holiness, as neither men nor angels ever saw before. God also in his providence has been wont to make use of both these methods to hold forth light to mankind, and inducements to their duty, in all ages. He has from time to time raised up eminent teachers, to exhibit and bear testimony to the truth by their doctrine, and to oppose the errors, darkness, and wickedness of the world; and he has also raised up some eminent persons who have set bright examples of that religion which is taught and prescribed in the word of God; whose examples have, in the course of divine providence, been set forth to public view. These have a great tendency both to engage the attention of men to the doctrine and rules taught, and also to confirm and enforce them; especially when these bright examples have been exhibited in the same persons who have been eminent teachers. Hereby the world has had opportunity to see a confirmation of the truth, efficacy, and amiableness of the religion taught, in the practice of the same persons who have most clearly and forcibly taught it; and above all, when these bright examples have been set by eminent teachers, in a variety of unusual circumstances of remarkable trial; and when God has withal remarkably distinguished them with wonderful success of their instructions and labours. Such an instance we have in the excellent person, whose life is published in the following pages. His example is attended with a great variety of circumstances tending to engage the attention of religious people, especially in these parts of the world. He was one of distinguished natural abilities; as all are sensible, who had acquaintance with him. As a minister of the gospel, he was called to unusual services in that work; and his ministry was attended with very remarkable and unusual events. His course of religion began before the late times of extraordinary religious commotion; yet he was not an idle spectator, but had a near concern in many things that passed at that time. He had a very extensive acquaintance with those who have been the subjects of the late religious operations, in places far distant, in people of different nations, education, manners, and customs. He had a peculiar opportunity of acquaintance with the false appearances and counterfeits of religion; was the instrument of a most remarkable awakening, a wonderful and abiding alteration and moral transformation of subjects who peculiarly render the change rare and astonishing. In the following account, the reader will have an opportunity to see, not only what were the external circumstances and remarkable incidents of the life of this person, and how he spent his time from day to day, as to his external behaviour; but also what passed in his own heart. Here he will see the wonderful change he experienced in his mind and disposition, the manner in which that change was brought to pass, how it continued, what were its consequences in his inward frames, thoughts, affections, and secret exercises, through many vicissitudes and trials, for more than eight years. He will also see, how all ended at last, in his sentiments, frame, and behaviour, during a long season of the gradual and sensible approach of death, under a lingering illness; and what were the effects of his religion in dying circumstances, or in the last stages of his illness. The account being written, the reader may have opportunity at his leisure to compare the various parts of the story, and deliberately to view and weigh the whole, and consider how far what is related is agreeable to the dictates of right reason and the holy word of God. I am far from supposing, that Mr. Brainerd's inward exercises and experiences, or his external conduct, were free from all imperfections. The example of Jesus Christ is the only example that ever existed in human nature as altogether perfect; which therefore is a rule to try all other examples by; and the dispositions, frames, and practices of others must be commended and followed no further, than they were followers of Christ. There is one thing in Mr. Brainerd, easily discernible by the following account of his life, which may be called an imperfection in him, which though not properly an imperfection of a moral nature, yet may possibly be made an objection against the extraordinary appearances of religion and devotion in him, by such as seek for objections against every thing that can be produced in favour of true vital religion; and that is, that he was, by his constitution and natural temper, so prone to melancholy and dejection of spirit. There are some who think that all serious strict religion is a melancholy thing, and that what is called Christian experience, is little else besides melancholy vapours disturbing the brain, and exciting enthusiastic imaginations. But that Mr. Brainerd's temper or constitution inclined him to despondency, is no just ground to suspect his extraordinary devotion to be only the fruit of a warm imagination. I doubt not but that all who have well observed mankind, will readily grant, that not all who by their natural constitution or temper are most disposed to dejection, are the most susceptive of lively and strong impressions on their imagination, or the most subject to those vehement affections, which are the fruits of such impressions. But they must well know, that many who are of a very gay and sanguine natural temper are vastly more so; and if their affections are turned into a religious channel, are much more exposed to enthusiasm, than many of the former. As to Mr. Brainerd in particular, notwithstanding his inclination to despondency, he was evidently one of those who usually are the furthest from a teeming imagination; being of a penetrating genius, of clear thought, of close reasoning, and a very exact judgment; as all know, who knew him. As he had a great insight into human nature, and was very discerning and judicious in general; so he excelled in his judgment and knowledge in divinity, but especially in things appertaining to inward experimental religion. He most accurately distinguished between real, solid piety, and enthusiasm; between those affections that are rational and scriptural having their foundation in light and judgment and those that are founded in whimsical conceits, strong impressions on the imagination, and vehement emotions of the animal spirits. He was exceedingly sensible of men's exposedness to these things; how much they had prevailed, and what multitudes had been deceived by them; of their pernicious consequences, and the fearful mischief they had done in the Christian world. He greatly abhorred such a religion, and was abundant in bearing testimony against it, living and dying; and was quick to discern when any thing of that nature arose, though in its first buddings, and appearing under the most fair and plausible disguises. He had a talent for describing the various workings of this imaginary, enthusiastic religion evincing its falseness and vanity, and demonstrating the great difference between this and true spiritual devotion which I scarcely ever knew equalled in any person. His judiciousness did not only appear in distinguishing among the experiences of others, but also among the various exercises of his own mind; particularly in discerning what within himself was to be laid to the score of melancholy; in which he exceeded all melancholy persons that ever I was acquainted with. This was doubtless owing to a peculiar strength in his judgment; for it is a rare thing indeed, that melancholy people are well sensible of their own disease, and fully convinced that such and such things are to be ascribed to it, as are its genuine operations and fruits. Mr. Brainerd did not obtain that degree of skill at once, but gradually; as the reader may discern by the following account of his life. In the former part of his religious course, he imputed much of that kind of gloominess of mind and those dark thoughts to spiritual desertion, which in the latter part of his life he was abundantly sensible were owing to the disease of melancholy; accordingly he often expressly speaks of them in his diary as arising from this cause. He often in conversation spoke of the difference between melancholy and godly sorrow, true humiliation and spiritual desertion, and the great danger of mistaking the one for the other, and the very hurtful nature of melancholy; discoursing with great judgment upon it, and doubtless much more judiciously for what he knew by his own experience. But besides what may be argued from Mr. Brainerd's strength of judgment, it is apparent in fact, that he was not a person of a warm imagination. His inward experiences, whether in his convictions or his conversion, and his religious views and impressions through the course of his life, were not excited by strong and lively images formed in his imagination; nothing at all appears of it in his diary from beginning to end. He told me on his death-bed, that although once, when he was very young in years and experience, he was deceived into a high opinion of such things looking on them as superior attainments in religion, beyond what he had ever arrived at was ambitious of them, and earnestly sought them; yet he never could obtain them. He moreover declared, that he never in his life had a strong impression on his imagination, of any outward form, external glory, or any thing of that nature; which kind of impressions abound among enthusiastic people. As Mr. Brainerd's religious impressions, views, and affections in their nature were vastly different from enthusiasm; so were their effects in him as contrary to it as possible. Nothing like enthusiasm puffs men up with a high conceit of their own wisdom, holiness, eminence, and sufficiency; and makes them so bold, forward, assuming, and arrogant. But the reader will see, that Mr. Brainerd's religion constantly disposed him to a most mean thought of himself, an abasing sense of his own exceeding sinfulness, deficiency, unprofitableness, and ignorance; looking on himself as worse than others; disposing him to universal benevolence and meekness; in honour to prefer others, and to treat all with kindness and respect. And when melancholy prevailed, and though the effects of it were very prejudicial to him, yet it had not the effects of enthusiasm; but operated by dark and discouraging thoughts of himself, as ignorant, wicked, and wholly unfit for the work of the ministry, or even to be seen among mankind. Indeed, at the time forementioned, when he had not learned well to distinguish between enthusiasm and solid religion, he joined, and kept company with, some who were tinged with no small degree of the former. For a season he partook with them in a degree of their dispositions and behaviours; though, as was observed before, he could not obtain those things wherein their enthusiasm itself consisted, and so could not become like them in that respect, however he erroneously desired and sought it. But certainly it is not at all to be wondered at, that a youth, a young convert, one who had his heart so swallowed up in religion, and who so earnestly desired his flourishing state and who had so little opportunity for reading, observation, and experience should for a while be dazzled and deceived with the glaring appearances of mistaken devotion and zeal; especially considering the extraordinary circumstances of that day. He told me on his death-bed, that while he was in these circumstances he was out of his element, and did violence to himself, while complying, in his conduct, with persons of a fierce and imprudent zeal, from his great veneration of some whom he looked upon as better than himself. So that it would be very unreasonable, that his error at that time should nevertheless be esteemed a just ground of prejudice against the whole of his religion, and his character in general; especially considering, how greatly his mind was soon changed, and how exceedingly he afterwards lamented his error, and abhorred himself for his imprudent zeal and misconduct at that time, even to the breaking of his heart, and almost to the overbearing of his natural strength; and how much of a Christian spirit he showed, in condemning himself for that misconduct, as the reader will see. What has been now mentioned of Mr. Brainerd, is so far from being a just ground of prejudice against what is related in the following account of his life, that, if duly considered, it will render the history the more serviceable. For by his thus joining for a season with enthusiasts, he had a more full and intimate acquaintance with what belonged to that sort of religion; and so was under better advantages to judge of the difference between that, and what he finally approved, and strove to his utmost to promote, in opposition to it. And hereby the reader has the more to convince him that Mr. Brainerd, in his testimony against it, and the spirit and behaviour of those who are influenced by it, speaks from impartial conviction, and not from prejudice; because therein he openly condemns his own former opinion and conduct, on account of which he had greatly suffered from his opposers, and for which some continued to reproach him as long as he lived. Another imperfection in Mr. Brainerd, which may be observed in the following account of his life, was his being excessive in his labours; not taking due care to proportion his fatigues to his strength. Indeed the case was very often such, by the seeming calls of Providence, as made it extremely difficult for him to avoid doing more than his strength would well admit of; yea, his circumstances and the business of his mission among the Indians were such, that great fatigues and hardships were altogether inevitable. However, he was finally convinced, that he had erred in this matter, and that he ought to have taken more thorough care, and been more resolute to withstand temptations to such degrees of labour as injured his health; and accordingly warned his brother, who succeeds him in his mission, to be careful to avoid this error. Besides the imperfections already mentioned, it is readily allowed, that there were some imperfections which ran through his whole life, and were mixed with all his religious affections and exercises; some mixture of what was natural with that which was spiritual; as it evermore is in the best saints in this world. Doubtless, natural temper had some influence in the religious exercises and experiences of Mr. Brainerd, as there most apparently was in the exercises of devout David, and the apostles Peter, John, and Paul. There was undoubtedly very often some influence of his natural disposition to dejection, in his religious mourning; some mixture of melancholy with truly godly sorrow and real Christian humility; some mixture of the natural fire of youth with his holy zeal for God; and some influence of natural principles mixed with grace in various other respects, as it ever was and ever will be with the saints while on this side heaven. Perhaps none were more sensible of Mr. Brainerd's imperfections than he himself; or could distinguish more accurately than he, between what was natural and what was spiritual. It is easy for the judicious reader to observe, that his graces ripened, the religious exercises of his heart became more and more pure, and he more and more distinguished in his judgment, the longer he lived: he had much to teach and purify him, and he failed not to make his advantage. But notwithstanding all these imperfections, I am persuaded every pious and judicious reader will acknowledge, that what is here set before him is indeed a remarkable instance of true and eminent Christian piety in heart and practice tending greatly to confirm the reality of vital religion, and the power of godliness that it is most worthy of imitation, and many ways calculated to promote the spiritual benefit of the careful observer. It is fit the reader should be aware, that what Mr. Brainerd wrote in his diary, out of which the following account of his life is chiefly taken, was written only for his own private use, and not to get honour and applause in the world, nor with any design that the world should ever see it, either while he lived or after his death; excepting some few things that he wrote in a dying state, after he had been persuaded, with difficulty, not entirely to suppress all his private writings. He showed himself almost invincibly averse to the publishing of any part of his diary after his death; and when he was thought to be dying at Boston, he gave the most strict, peremptory orders to the contrary. But being by some of his friends there prevailed upon to withdraw so strict and absolute a prohibition, he was pleased finally to yield so far as that "his papers should be left in my hands, that I might dispose of them as I thought would be most for God's glory and the interest of religion." But a few days before his death, he ordered some part of his diary to be destroyed, which renders the account of his life the less complete. And there are some parts of his diary here left out for brevity's sake, that would, I am sensible, have been a great advantage to the history, if they had been inserted; particularly the account of his wonderful successes among the Indians; which for substance is the same in his private diary with that which has already been made public, in the journal he kept by order of the society in Scotland, for their information. That account, I am of opinion, would be more entertaining and more profitable, if it were published as it is written in his diary, in connexion with his secret religion and the inward exercises of his mind, and also with the preceding and following parts of the story of his life. But because that account has been published already, I have therefore omitted that part. However, this defect may in a great measure be made up to the reader, by the public journal. But it is time to end this preface, that the reader may be no longer detained from the history itself. JONATHAN EDWARDS N. B. Those parts of the following Life and Diary which are not in turned commas, are the words of the publisher, President Edwards. They contain the substance of Mr. Brainerd's Diary for the time specified. By this mode, needless repetitions were prevented. THE LIFE AND DIARY OF DAVID BRAINERD. __________________________________________________________________ PART I. FROM HIS BIRTH, TO THE TIME WHEN HE BEGAN TO STUDY FOR THE MINISTRY. Mr. David Brainerd was born April 20, 1718, at Haddam, a town of Hartford, in Connecticut, New England. His father was the worshipful Hezekiah Brainerd, Esq. one of his Majesty's council for that colony; who was the son of Daniel Brainerd, Esq. a justice of the peace, and a deacon of the church of Christ in Haddam. His mother was Mrs. Dorothy Hobart, daughter to the Reverend Mr. Jeremiah Hobart; who preached awhile at Topsfield, then removed to Hempstead on Long-Island, and afterwards by reason of numbers turning Quakers, and many others being so irreligious, that they would do nothing towards the support of the gospel settled in the work of the ministry at Haddam; where he died in the 85th year of his age. He went to the public worship in the forenoon, and died in his chair between meetings. This reverend gentleman was a son of the Reverend Peter Hobart; who was, first, minister of the gospel at Hingham, in the county of Norfolk in England; and, by reason of the persecution of the Puritans, removed with his family to New England, and was settled in the ministry at Hingham, in Massachusetts. He had five sons, viz. Joshua, Jeremiah, Gershom, Japheth, and Nehemiah. His son Joshua was minister at Southold on Long-Island. Jeremiah was Mr. David Brainerd's grandfather, minister at Haddam, &c. as before observed; Gershom was minister of Groton in Connecticut; Japheth was a physician; he went in the quality of a doctor of a ship to England, (before the time of taking his second degree at college,) and designed to go from thence to the East Indies; but never was heard of more. Nehemiah was sometime fellow of Harvard college, and afterwards minister at Newton in Massachusetts. The mother of Mrs. Dorothy Hobart (who was afterwards Brainerd) was a daughter of the Reverend Samuel Whiting, minister of the gospel, first at Boston in Lincolnshire, and afterwards at Lynn in Massachusetts, New England. He had three sons who were ministers of the gospel. David Brainerd was the third son of his parents. They had five sons, and four daughters. Their eldest son is Hezekiah Brainerd, Esq. a justice of the peace, and for several years past a representative of the town of Haddam, in the general assembly of Connecticut colony; the second was the Reverend Nehemiah Brainerd, a worthy minister at Eastbury in Connecticut, who died of a consumption, Nov. 10, 1742; the fourth is Mr. John Brainerd, who succeeds his brother David as missionary to the Indians, and pastor of the same church of Christian Indians in New Jersey; and the fifth was Israel, lately student at Yale college in New-Haven, who died since his brother David. Mrs. Dorothy Brainerd having lived about five years a widow, died when her son, of whose life I am about to give an account, was about fourteen years of age: so that in his youth he was left both fatherless and motherless. What account he has given of himself, and his own life, may be seen in what follows. [351] "I was from my youth somewhat sober, and inclined rather to melancholy than the contrary extreme; but do not remember any thing of conviction of sin, worthy of remark, till I was, I believe, about seven or eight years of age. Then I became concerned for my soul, and terrified at the thoughts of death, and was driven to the performance of duties: but it appeared a melancholy business, that destroyed my eagerness for play. And though, alas! this religious concern was but short-lived, I sometimes attended secret prayer; and thus lived at "ease in Zion, without God in the world,'' and without much concern, as I remember, till I was above thirteen years of age. But some time in the winter 1732, I was roused out of carnal security, by I scarce know what means at first; but was much excited by the prevailing of a mortal sickness in Haddam. I was frequent, constant, and somewhat fervent in duties; and took delight in reading, especially Mr. Janeway's Token for Children. I felt sometimes much melted in duties, and took great delight in the performance of them; and I sometimes hoped that I was converted, or at least in a good and hopeful way for heaven and happiness, not knowing what conversion was. The Spirit of God at this time proceeded far with me; I was remarkably dead to the world, and my thoughts were almost wholly employed about my soul's concerns; and I may indeed say, "Almost I was persuaded to be a Christian" I was also exceedingly distressed and melancholy at the death of my mother, in March, 1732. But afterwards my religious concern began to decline, and by degrees I fell back into a considerable degree of security, though I still attended secret prayer. "About the 15th of April, 1733, I removed from my father's house to East Haddam, where I spent four years; but still "without God in the world," though, for the most part, I went a round of secret duty. I was not much addicted to young company, or frolicking, as it is called, but this I know, that when I did go into such company, I never returned with so good a conscience as when I went; it always added new guilt, made me afraid to come to the throne of grace, and spoiled those good frames I was wont sometimes to please myself with. But, alas! all my good frames were but self-righteousness, not founded on a desire for the glory of God. "About the latter end of April, 1737, being full nineteen years of age, I removed to Durham, to work on my farm, and so continued about one year; frequently longing, from a natural inclination, after a liberal education. When about twenty years of age, I applied myself to study; and was now engaged more than ever in the duties of religion. I became very strict, and watchful over my thoughts, words, and actions; and thought I must be sober indeed, because I designed to devote myself to the ministry; and imagined I did dedicate myself to the Lord. "Some time in April, 1738, I went to Mr. Fiske's, and lived with him during his life. [352] I remember he advisedme wholly to abandon young company, and associate myself with grave elderly people: which counsel I followed. My manner of life was now exceeding regular, and full of religion, such as it was; for I read my Bible more than twice through in less than a year, spent much time every day in prayer and other secret duties, gave great attention to the word preached, and endeavoured to my utmost to retain it. So much concerned was I about religion, that I agreed with some young persons to meet privately on sabbath evenings for religious exercises, and thought myself sincere in these duties; and after our meeting was ended, I used to repeat the discourses of the day to myself; recollecting what I could, though sometimes very late at night. I used sometimes on Monday mornings to recollect the same sermons; had considerable movings of pleasurable affection in duties, and had many thoughts of joining the church. In short, I had a very good outside, and rested entirely on my duties, though not sensible of it. "After Mr. Fiske's death, I proceeded in my learning with my brother; was still very constant in religious duties, and often wondered at the levity of professors; it was a trouble to me, that they were so careless in religious matters. Thus I proceeded a considerable length on a self-righteous foundation; and should have been entirely lost and undone, had not the mere mercy of God prevented. "Some time in the beginning of winter, 1738, it pleased God, on one sabbath-day morning, as I was walking out for some secret duties, to give me on a sudden such a sense of my danger, and the wrath of God, that I stood amazed, and my former good frames, that I had pleased myself with, all presently vanished. From the view I had of my sin and vileness, I was much distressed all that day, fearing the vengeance of God would soon overtake me. I was much dejected, kept much alone, and sometimes envied the birds and beasts their happiness, because they were not exposed to eternal misery, as I evidently saw I was. And thus I lived from day to day, being frequently in great distress: sometimes there appeared mountains before me -to obstruct my hopes of mercy; and the work of conversion appeared so great, that I thought I should never be the subject of it. I used, however, to pray and cry to God, and perform other duties with great earnestness; and thus hoped by some means to make the case better. "And though, hundreds of times, I renounced all pretences of any worth in my duties, as I thought, even while performing them, and often confessed to God that I deserved nothing, for the very best of them, but eternal condemnation; yet still I had a secret hope of recommending myself to God by my religious duties. When I prayed affectionately, and my heart seemed in some measure to melt, I hoped God would be thereby moved to pity me, my prayers then looked with some appearance of goodness in them, and I seemed to mourn for sin. And then I could in some measure venture on the mercy of God in Christ, as I thought, though the preponderating thought, the foundation of my hope, was some imagination of goodness in my heart-meltings, flowing of affections in duty, extraordinary enlargements, &c. Though at times the gate appeared so very strait, that it looked next to impossible to enter, yet, at other times, I flattered myself that it was not so very difficult, and hoped I should by diligence and watchfulness soon gain the point. Sometimes after enlargement in duty and considerable affection, I hoped I had made a good step towards heaven; imagined that God was affected as I was, and that he would hear such sincere cries, as I called them. And so sometimes, when I withdrew for secret duties in great distress, I returned comfortable; and thus healed myself with my duties. "Some time in February, 1739, I set apart a day for secret fasting and prayer, and spent the day in almost incessant cries to God for mercy, that he would open my eyes to see the evil of sin, and the way of life by Jesus Christ. And God was pleased that day to make considerable discoveries of my heart to me. But still I trusted in all the duties I performed; though there was no manner of goodness in them, there being in them no respect to the glory of God, nor any such principle in my heart. Yet, God was pleased to make my endeavours that day a means to show me my helplessness in some measure. "Sometimes I was greatly encouraged, and imagined that God loved me, and was pleased with me; and thought I should soon be fully reconciled to God. But the whole was founded on mere presumption, arising from enlargement in duty, or flowing of affections, or some good resolutions, and the like. And when, at times, great distress began to arise, on a sight of my vileness, nakedness, and inability to deliver myself from a sovereign God, I used to put off the discovery, as what I could not bear. Once, I remember, a terrible pang of distress seized me, and the thoughts of renouncing myself, and standing naked before God, stripped of all goodness, were so dreadful to me, that I was ready to say to them as Felix to Paul, Go thy way for this time.' Thus, though I daily longed for greater conviction of sin, supposing that I must see more of my dreadful state in order to a remedy; yet when the discoveries of my vile, hellish heart, were made to me, the sight was so dreadful, and showed me so plainly my exposedness to damnation, that I could not endure it. I constantly strove after whatever qualifications I imagined others obtained before the reception of Christ, in order to recommend me to his favour. Sometimes I felt the power of a hard heart, and supposed it must be softened before Christ would accept of me; and when I felt any meltings of heart, I hoped now the work was almost done. Hence, when my distress still remained, I was wont to murmur at God's dealings with me; and thought, when others felt their hearts softened, God showed them mercy; but my distress remained still. "Sometimes I grew remiss and sluggish, without any great convictions of sin, for a considerable time together; but after such a season, convictions seized me more violently. One night I remember in particular, when I was walking solitarily abroad, I had opened to me such a view of my sin, that I feared the ground would cleave asunder under my feet, and become my grave; and would send my soul quick into hell, before I could get home. And though I was forced to go to bed, lest my distress should be discovered by others, which I much feared; yet I scarcely durst sleep at all, for I thought it would be a great wonder if I should be out of hell in the morning. And though my distress was sometimes thus great, yet I greatly dreaded the loss of convictions, and returning back to a state of carnal security, and to my former insensibility of impending wrath; which made me exceeding exact in my behaviour, lest I should stifle the motions of God's Holy Spirit. When at any time I took a view of my convictions, and thought the degree of them to be considerable, I was wont to trust in them; but this confidence, and the hopes of soon making some notable advances towards deliverance, would ease my mind, and I soon became more senseless and remiss: but then again, when I discerned my convictions to grow languid, and I thought them about to leave me, this immediately alarmed and distressed me. Sometimes I expected to take a large step, and get very far towards conversion, by some particular opportunity or means I had in view. "The many disappointments, great distresses, and perplexity I met with, put me into a most horrible frame of contesting with the Almighty; with an inward vehemence and virulence finding fault with his ways of dealing with mankind. I found great fault with the imputation of Adam's sin to his posterity; and my wicked heart often wished for some other way of salvation, than by Jesus Christ. Being like the troubled sea, my thoughts confused, I used to contrive to escape the wrath of God by some other means. I had strange projects, full of atheism, contriving to disappoint God's designs and decrees concerning me, or to escape his notice, and hide myself from him. But when, upon reflection, I saw these projects were vain, and would not serve me, and that I could contrive nothing for my own relief; this would throw my mind into the most horrid frame, to wish there was no God, or to wish there were some other God that could control him, &c. These thoughts and desires were the secret inclinations of my heart, frequently acting before I was aware; but, alas! they were mine, although I was affrighted when I came to reflect on them. When I considered, it distressed me to think, that my heart was so full of enmity against God; and it made me tremble, lest his vengeance should suddenly fall upon me. I used before to imagine, that my heart was not so bad as the Scriptures and some other books represented it. Sometimes I used to take much pains to work it up into a good frame, an humble submissive disposition; and hoped there was then some goodness in me. But, on a sudden, the thoughts of the strictness of the law, or the sovereignty of God, would so irritate the corruption of my heart, that I had so watched over, and hoped I had brought to a good frame, that it would break over all bounds, and burst forth on all sides, like floods of water when they break down their dam. "Being sensible of the necessity of a deep humiliation in order to a saving close with Christ, I used to set myself to work in my own heart those convictions that were requisite in such an humiliation; as, a conviction that God would be just, if he cast me off for ever; that if ever God should bestow mercy on me, it would be mere grace, though I should be in distress many years first, and be never so much engaged in duty; that God was not in the least obliged to pity me the more for all past duties, cries, and tears, &c. I strove to my utmost to bring myself to a firm belief of these things and a hearty assent to them; and hoped that now I was brought off from myself, truly humbled, and that I bowed to the divine sovereignty. I was wont to tell God in my prayers, that now I had those very dispositions of soul that he required, and on which he showed mercy to others, and thereupon to beg and plead for mercy to me. But when I found no relief, and was still oppressed with guilt, and fears of wrath, my soul was in a tumult, and my heart rose against God, as dealing hardly with me. Yet then my conscience flew in my face, putting me in mind of my late confession to God of his justice in my condemnation, &c. And this giving me a sight of the badness of my heart, threw me again into distress, and I wished I had watched my heart more narrowly, to keep it from breaking out against God's dealings with me; and I even wished I had not pleaded for mercy on account of my humiliation, because thereby I had lost all my seeming goodness. Thus, scores of times, I vainly imagined myself humbled and prepared for saving mercy. And while I was in this distressed, bewildered, and tumultuous state of mind, the corruption of my heart was especially irritated with the following things. "1. The strictness of the divine law. For I found it was impossible for me, after my utmost pains, to answer its demands. I often made new resolutions, and as often broke them. I imputed the whole to carelessness and the want of being more watchful, and used to call myself a fool for my negligence. But when, upon a stronger resolution, and greater endeavours, and close application to fasting and prayer, I found all attempts fail; then I quarrelled with the law of God, as unreasonably rigid. I thought, if it extended only to my outward actions and behaviours I could bear with it; but I found it condemned me for my evil thoughts, and sins of my heart, which I could not possibly prevent. I was extremely loth to own my utter helplessness in this matter: but after repeated disappointments, thought that, rather than perish, I could do a little more still; especially if such and such circumstances might but attend my endeavours and strivings. I hoped, that I should strive more earnestly than ever, if the matter came to extremity though I never could find the time to do my utmost, in the manner I intended and this hope of future more favourable circumstances, and of doing something great hereafter, kept me from utter despair in myself, and from seeing myself fallen into the hands of a sovereign God, and dependent on nothing but free and boundless grace. "2. Another thing was, that faith alone, was the condition of salvation; that God would not come down to lower terms, and that he would not promise life and salvation upon my sincere and hearty prayers and endeavours. That word, Mark xvi. 16. "He that believeth not, shall be damned," cut off all hope there: and I found, faith was the sovereign gift of God; that I could not get it as of myself, and could not oblige God to bestow it upon me, by any of my performances, (Eph. ii. 1, 8.) This, I was ready to say, is a hard saying, who can bear it? I could not bear, that all I had done should stand for mere nothing, who had been very conscientious in duty, had been exceeding religious a great while, and had, as I thought, done much more than many others who had obtained mercy. I confessed indeed the vileness of my duties; but then, what made them at that time seem vile, was my wandering thoughts in them; not because I was all over defiled like a devil, and the principle corrupt from whence they flowed, so that I could not possibly do any thing that was good. And therefore I called what I did, by the name of honest faithful endeavours; and could not bear it, that God had made no promises of salvation to them. "3. Another thing was, that I could not find out what faith was; or what it was to believe, and come to Christ. I read the calls of Christ to the weary and heavy laden; but could find no way that he directed them to come in. I thought I would gladly come, if I knew how, though the path of duty were never so difficult. I read Mr. Stoddard's Guide to Christ, (which I trust was, in the hand of God, the happy means of my conversion,) and my heart rose against the author; for though he told me my very heart all along under convictions, and seemed to be very beneficial to me in his directions; yet here he failed, he did not tell me any thing I could do that would bring me to Christ, but left me as it were with a great gulf between, without any direction to get through. For I was not yet effectually and experimentally taught, that there could be no way prescribed, whereby a natural man could, of his own strength, obtain that which is supernatural, and which the highest angel cannot give. "4. Another thing to which I found a great inward opposition, was the sovereignty of God. I could not bear that it should be wholly at God's pleasure to save or damn me, just as he would. That passage, Rom. ix. 11-23. was a constant vexation to me, especially ver. 21. Reading or meditating on this, always destroyed my seeming good frames: for when I thought I was almost humbled, and almost resigned, this passage would make my enmity against the sovereignty of God appear. When I came to reflect on my inward enmity and blasphemy, which arose on this occasion, I was the more afraid of God, and driven further from any hopes of reconciliation with him. It gave me such a dreadful view of myself, that I dreaded more than ever to see myself in God's hands, at his sovereign disposal, and it made me more opposite than ever to submit to his sovereignty; for I thought God designed my damnation. "All this time the Spirit of God was powerfully at work with me; and I was inwardly pressed to relinquish all self-confidence, all hopes of ever helping myself by any means whatsoever: and the conviction of my lost estate was sometimes so clear and manifest before my eyes, that it was as if it had been declared to me in so many words, It is done, it is done, for ever impossible to deliver yourself.' For about three or four days my soul was thus greatly distressed. At some turns, for a few moments, I seemed to myself lost and undone; but then would shrink back immediately from the sight, because I dared not venture myself into the hands of God, as wholly helpless, and at the disposal of his sovereign pleasure. I dared not see that important truth concerning myself, that I was dead in trespasses and sins. But when I had as it were thrust away these views of myself at any time, I felt distressed to have the same discoveries of myself again; for I greatly feared being given over of God to final stupidity. When I thought of putting it off to a more convenient season, the conviction was so close and powerful, with regard to the present time, that it was the best, and probably the only time, that I dared not put it off. "It was the sight of truth concerning myself, truth respecting my state, as a creature fallen and alienated from God, and that consequently could make no demands on God for mercy, but must subscribe to the absolute sovereignty of the Divine Being; the sight of the truth, I say, my soul shrank away from, and trembled to think of beholding. Thus, he that doth evil, as all unregenerate men continually do, hates the light of truth, neither cares to come to it, because it will reprove his deeds, and show him his just deserts, John iii. 20. And though, some time before, I had taken much pains, as I thought, to submit tothe sovereignty of God, yet I mistook the thing; and did not once imagine, that seeing and being made experimentally sensible of this truth, which my soul now so much dreaded and trembled at, was the frame of soul that I had been so earnest in pursuit of heretofore. For I had ever hoped, that when I had attained to that humiliation, which I supposed necessary to go before faith, then it would not be fair for God to cast me off; but now I saw it was so far from any goodness in me, to own myself spiritually dead, and destitute of all goodness, that, on the contrary, my mouth would be for ever stopped by it; and it looked as dreadful to me, to see myself, and the relation I stood in to God I a sinner and criminal, and he a great Judge and Sovereign as it would be to a poor trembling creature, to venture off some high precipice. And hence I put it off for a minute or two, and tried for better circumstances to do it in; either I must read a passage or two, or pray first, or something of the like nature; or else put off my submission to God's sovereignty, with an objection, that I did not know how to submit. But the truth was, I could see no safety in owning myself in the hands of a sovereign God, and that I could lay no claim to any thing better than damnation. "But after a considerable time spent in such like exercises and distresses, one morning, while I was walking in a solitary place, as usual, I at once saw that all my contrivances and projects to effect or procure deliverance and salvation for myself, were utterly in vain; I was brought quite to a stand, as finding myself totally lost. I had thought many times before, that the difficulties in my way were very great; but now I saw, in another and very different light, that it was for ever impossible for me to do any thing towards helping or delivering myself. I then thought of blaming myself, that I had not done more, and been more engaged, while I had opportunity for it seemed now as if the season of doing was for ever over and gone but I instantly saw, that let me have done what I would, it would no more have tended to my helping myself, than what I had done; that I had made all the pleas I ever could have made to all eternity; and that all my pleas were vain. The tumult that had been before in my mind, was now quieted; and I was something eased of that distress, which I felt, while struggling against a sight of myself, and of the divine sovereignty. I had the greatest certainty that my state was for ever miserable, for all that I could do; and wondered that I had never been sensible of it before. "While I remained in this state, my notions respecting my duties were quite different from what I had ever entertained in times past. Before this, the more I did in duty, the more hard I thought it would be for God to cast me off; though at the same time I confessed, and thought I saw, that there was no goodness or merit in my duties; but now the more I did in prayer or any other duty, the more I saw I was indebted to God for allowing me to ask for mercy; for I saw it was self-interest had led me to pray, and that I had never once prayed from any respect to the glory of God. Now I saw there was no necessary connexion between my prayers and the bestowment of divine mercy; that they laid not the least obligation upon God to bestow his grace upon me; and that there was no more virtue or goodness in them, than there would be in my paddling with my hand in the water, (which was the comparison I had then in my mind,) and this because they were not performed from any love or regard to God. I saw that I had been heaping up my devotions before God, fasting, praying, &c. pretending, and indeed really thinking sometimes, that I was aiming at the glory of God; whereas I never once truly intended it, but only my own happiness. I saw, that as I had never done any thing for God, I had no claim on any thing from him, but perdition, on account of my hypocrisy and mockery. Oh how different did my duties now appear from what they used to do! I used to charge them with sin and imperfection; but this was only on account of the wanderings and vain thoughts attending them, and not because I had no regard to God in them; for this I thought I had. But when I saw evidently that I had regard to nothing but self-interest, then they appeared a vile mockery of God, self-worship, and a continual course of lies; so that I now saw that something worse had attended my duties, than barely a few wanderings, &c.; for the whole was nothing but self-worship, and a horrid abuse of God. "I continued, as I remember, in this state of mind, from Friday morning till the sabbath evening following, (July 12, 1739,) when I was walking again in the same solitary place, where I was brought to see myself lost and helpless, as before mentioned. Here, in a mournful melancholy state, I was attempting to pray; but found no heart to engage in that or any other duty; my former concern, exercise, and religious affections were now gone. I thought the Spirit of God had quite left me; but still was not distressed: yet disconsolate, as if there was nothing in heaven or earth could make me happy. Having been thus endeavouring to pray though, as I thought, very stupid and senseless for near half an hour, then, as I was walking in a dark thick grove, unspeakable glory seemed to open to the view and apprehension of my soul. I do not mean any external brightness, for I saw no such thing; nor do I intend any imagination of a body of light, somewhere in the third heavens, or any thing of that nature; but it was a new inward apprehension or view that I had of God, such as I never had before, nor any thing which had the least resemblance of it. I stood still, wondered, and admired! I knew that I never had seen before any thing comparable to it for excellency and beauty; it was widely different from all the conceptions that ever I had of God, or things divine. I had no particular apprehension of any one person in the Trinity, either the Father, the Son, or the Holy Ghost; but it appeared to be divine glory. My soul rejoiced with joy unspeakable, to see such a God, such a glorious Divine Being; and I was inwardly pleased and satisfied that he should be God over all for ever and ever. My soul was so captivated and delighted with the excellency, loveliness, greatness, and other perfections of God, that I was even swallowed up in him; at least to that degree, that I had no thought (as I remember) at first about my own salvation, and scarce reflected there was such a creature as myself. "Thus God, I trust, brought me to a hearty disposition to exalt him, and set him on the throne, and principally and ultimately to aim at his honour and glory, as King of the universe. I continued in this state of inward joy, peace, and astonishment, till near dark, without any sensible abatement; and then began to think and examine what I had seen; and felt sweetly composed in my mind all the evening following. I felt myself in a new world, and every thing about me appeared with a different aspect from what it was wont to do. At this time, the way of salvation opened to me with such infinite wisdom, suitableness, and excellency, that I wondered I should ever think of any other way of salvation; was amazed that I had not dropped my own contrivances, and complied with this lovely, blessed, and excellent way before. If I could have been saved by my own duties, or any other way that I had formerly contrived, my whole soul would now have refused it. I wondered that all the world did not see and comply with this way of salvation, entirely by the righteousness of Christ. "The sweet relish of what I then felt, continued with me for several days, almost constantly, in a greater or less degree; I could not but sweetly rejoice in God, lying down and rising up. The next Lord's day I felt something of the same kind, though not so powerful as before. But not long after I was again involved in thick darkness, and under great distress; yet not of the same kind with my distress under convictions. I was guilty, afraid, and ashamed to come before God; was exceedingly pressed with a sense of guilt: but it was not long before I felt, I trust, true repentance and joy in God. About the latter end of August, I again fell under great darkness; it seemed as if the presence of God was clean gone for ever; though I was not so much distressed about my spiritual state, as I was at my being shut out from God's presence, as I then sensibly was. But it pleased the Lord to return graciously to me, not long after. "In the beginning of September I went to college, [353] and entered there; but with some degree of reluctancy, fearing lest I should not be able to lead a life of strict religion, inthe midst of so many temptations. After this, in the vacancy, before I went to tarry at college, it pleased God to visit my soul with clearer manifestations of himself and his grace. I was spending some time in prayer, and self-examination, when the Lord by his grace so shined into my heart, that I enjoyed full assurance of his favour, for that time; and my soul was unspeakably refreshed with divine and heavenly enjoyments. At this time especially, as well as some others, sundry passages of God's word opened to my soul with divine clearness, power, and sweetness, so as to appear exceeding precious, and with clear and certain evidence of its being the word of God. I enjoyed considerable sweetness in religion all the winter following. "In Jan. 1740, the measles spread much in college; and I having taken the distemper, went home to Haddam. But some days before I was taken sick, I seemed to be greatly deserted, and my soul mourned the absence of the Comforter exceedingly. It seemed to me all comfort was for ever gone; I prayed and cried to God for help, yet found no present comfort or relief. But through divine goodness, a night or two before I was taken ill, while I was walking alone in a very retired place, and engaged in meditation and prayer, I enjoyed a sweet refreshing visit, as I trust, from above; so that my soul was raised far above the fears of death. Indeed I rather longed for death, than feared it. O how much more refreshing this one season was, than all the pleasures and delights that earth can afford! After a day or two I was taken with the measles, and was very ill indeed, so that I almost despaired of life; but had no distressing fears of death at all. However, through divine goodness I soon recovered; yet, by reason of hard and close studies, and being much exposed on account of my freshmanship, I had but little time for spiritual duties: my soul often mourned for want of more time and opportunity to be alone with God. In the spring and summer following, I had better advantages for retirement, and enjoyed more comfort in religion. Though indeed my ambition in my studies greatly wronged the activity and vigour of my spiritual life; yet this was usually the case with me, that "in the multitude of my thoughts within me, God's comforts principally delighted my soul;" these were my greatest consolations day by day. "One day I remember, in particular, (I think it was in June, 1740,) I walked to a considerable distance from the college, in the fields alone at noon, and in prayer found such unspeakable sweetness and delight in God, that I thought, if I must continue still in this evil world, I wanted always to be there, to behold God's glory. My soul dearly loved all mankind, and longed exceedingly that they should enjoy what I enjoyed. It seemed to be a little resemblance of heaven. On Lord's day, July 6, being sacrament-day, I found some divine life and spiritual refreshment in that holy ordinance. When I came from the Lord's table, I wondered how my fellow-students could live as I was sensible most did. Next Lord's day, July 13, I had some special sweetness in religion. Again, Lord's day, July 20, my soul was in a sweet and precious frame. "Some time in August following, I became so weakly and disordered, by too close application to my studies, that I was advised by my tutor to go home, and disengage my mind from study, as much as I could; for I was grown so weak, that I began to spit blood. I took his advice, and endeavoured to lay aside my studies. But being brought very low, I looked death in the face more stedfastly; and the Lord was pleased to give me renewedly a sweet sense and relish of divine things; and particularly, October 13, I found divine help and consolation in the precious duties of secret prayer and self-examination, and my soul took delight in the blessed God: so likewise on the 17th of October. "Saturday, Oct. 18. In my morning devotions, my soul was exceedingly melted, and bitterly mourned over my exceeding sinfulness and vileness. I never before had felt so pungent and deep a sense of the odious nature of sin, as at this time. My soul was then unusually carried forth in love to God, and had a lively sense of God's love to me. And this love and hope, at that time, cast out fear. Both morning and evening I spent some time in self-examination, to find the truth of grace, as also my fitness to approach to God at his table the next day; and through infinite grace, found the Holy Spirit influencing my soul with love to God, as a witness within myself. "Lord's day, Oct. 19. In the morning I felt my soul hungering and thirsting after righteousness. In the forenoon, while I was looking on the sacramental elements, and thinking that Jesus Christ would soon be "set forth crucified before me," my soul was filled with light and love, so that I was almost in an ecstasy; my body was so weak, I could scarcely stand. I felt at the same time an exceeding tenderness and most fervent love towards all mankind; so that my soul and all the powers of it seemed, as it were, to melt into softness and sweetness. But during the communion, there was some abatement of this life and fervour. This love and joy cast out fear; and my soul longed for perfect grace and glory. This frame continued till the evening, when my soul was sweetly spiritual in secret duties. "Monday, Oct. 20. I again found the assistance of the Holy Spirit in secret duties, both morning and evening, and life and comfort in religion through the whole day. Tuesday, Oct. 21. I had likewise experience of the goodness of God in "shedding abroad his love in my heart," and giving me delight and consolation in religious duties; and all the remaining part of the week, my soul seemed to be taken up with divine things. I now so longed after God, and to be freed from sin, that when I felt myself recovering, and thought I must return to college again, which had proved so hurtful to my spiritual interest the year past, I could not but be grieved, and I thought I had much rather have died; for it distressed me to think of getting away from God. But before I went, I enjoyed several other sweet and precious seasons of communion with God, (particularly Oct. 30, and Nov. 4,) wherein my soul enjoyed unspeakable comfort. "I returned to college about Nov. 6, and, through the goodness of God, felt the power of religion almost daily, for the space of six weeks. Nov. 28. In my evening devotion, I enjoyed precious discoveries of God, and was unspeakably refreshed with that passage, Heb. xii. 22-24. My soul longed to wing away for the paradise of God; I longed to be conformed to God in all things. A day or two after, I enjoyed much of the light of God's countenance, most of the day; and my soul rested in God. "Tuesday, Dec. 9. I was in a comfortable frame of soul most of the day; but especially in evening devotions, when God was pleased wonderfully to assist and strengthen me; so that I thought nothing should ever move me from the love of God in Christ Jesus my Lord. O! one hour with God infinitely exceeds all the pleasures and delights of this lower world. "Some time towards the latter end of January, 1741, I grew more cold and dull in religion, by means of my old temptation, viz. ambition in my studies. But through divine goodness, a great and general awakening spread itself over the college, about the latter end of February, in which I was much quickened, and more abundantly engaged in religion." This awakening was at the beginning of that extraordinary religious commotion through the land, which is fresh in every one's memory. It was for a time very great and general at New-Haven; and the college had no small share in it. That society was greatly reformed, the students in general became serious, many of them remarkably so, and much engaged in the concerns of their eternal salvation. And however undesirable the issue of the awakenings of that day have appeared in many others, there have been manifestly happy and abiding effects of the impressions then made on the minds of many of the members of that college. And by all that I can learn concerning Mr. Brainerd, there can be no reason to doubt but that he had much of God's gracious presence, and of the lively actings of true grace, at that time: but yet he was afterwards abundantly sensible, that his religions experiences and affections at that time were not free from a corrupt mixture, nor his conduct to be acquitted from many things that were imprudent and blamable; which he greatly lamented himself, and was desirous that others should not make an ill use of such an example. And therefore, although at the time he kept a constant diary, containing a very particular account of what passed from day to day, for the next thirteen months, from the latter end of Jan. 1741, forementioned, in two small books, which he called the two first volumes of his diary, next following the account before given of his convictions, conversion, and consequent comforts; yet, when he lay on his death-bed, he gave order (unknown to me till after his death) that these two volumes should be destroyed, and in the beginning of the third book of his diary, he wrote thus, (by the hand of another, he not being able to write himself,) "The two preceding volumes, immediately following the account of the author's conversion, are lost. If any are desirous to know how the author lived, in general, during that space of time, let them read the first thirty pages of this volume; where they will find something of a specimen of his ordinary manner of living, through that whole space of time, which was about thirteen months; excepting that here he was more refined from some imprudencies and indecent heats, than there; but the spirit of devotion running through the whole was the same." It could not be otherwise than that one whose heart had been so prepared and drawn to God, as Mr. Brainerd's had been, should be mightily enlarged, animated, and engaged at the sight of such an alteration made in the college, the town, and country; and so great an appearance of men reforming their lives, and turning from their profaneness and immorality to seriousness and concern for their salvation, and of religion reviving and flourishing almost every where. But as an intemperate, imprudent zeal, and a degree of enthusiasm, soon crept in, and mingled itself with that revival of religion; and so great and general an awakening being quite a new thing in the land, at least as to all the living inhabitants of it; neither people nor ministers had learned thoroughly to distinguish between solid religion and its delusive counterfeits. Even many ministers of the gospel, of long standing and the best reputation, were for a time overpowered with the glaring appearances of the latter; and therefore, surely it was not to be wondered at, that young Brainerd, but a sophomore at college, should be so; who was not only young in years, but very young in religion and experience. He had enjoyed but little advantage for the study of divinity, and still less for observing the circumstances and events of such an extraordinary state of things. To think it strange, a man must divest himself of all reason. In these disadvantageous circumstances, Brainerd had the unhappiness to have a tincture of that intemperate, indiscreet zeal, which was at that time too prevalent; and was led, from his high opinion of others whom he looked upon as better than himself, into such errors as were really contrary to the habitual temper of his mind. One instance of his misconduct at that time, gave great offence to the rulers of the college, even to that degree that they expelled him the society; which it is necessary should here be particularly related, with its circumstances. During the awakening at college, there were several religious students who associated together for mutual conversation and assistance in spiritual things. These were wont freely to open themselves one to another, as special and intimate friends: Brainerd was one of this company. And it once happened, that he and two or three more of these intimate friends were in the hall together, after Mr. Whittelsey, one of the tutors, had been to prayer there with the scholars; no other person now remaining in the hall but Brainerd and his companions. Mr. Whittelsey having been unusually pathetical in his prayer, one of Brainerd's friends on this occasion asked him what he thought of Mr. Whittelsey; he made answer, "He has no more grace than this chair." One of the freshmen happening at that time to be near the hall (though not in the room) over-heard those words. This person, though he heard no name mentioned, and knew not who was thus censured, informed a certain woman in the town, withal telling her his own suspicion, viz. that he believed Brainerd said this of some one or other of the rulers of the college. Whereupon she went and informed the rector, who sent for this freshman and examined him. He told the rector the words he heard Brainerd utter, and informed him who were in the room with him at that time. Upon which the rector sent for them: they were very backward to inform against their friend what they looked upon as private conversation, and especially as none but they had heard or knew of whom he had uttered those words: yet the rector compelled them to declare what he said, and of whom he said it. Brainerd looked on himself very ill used in the management of this affair; and thought, that it was injuriously extorted from his friends, and then injuriously required of him as if he had been guilty of some open, notorious crime to make a public confession, and to humble himself before the whole college in the hall, for what he had said only in private conversation. He not complying with this demand, and having gone once to the separate meeting at New-Haven, when forbidden by the rector; and also having been accused by one person of saying concerning the rector, "that he wondered he did not expect to drop down dead for fining the scholars who followed Mr. Tennent to Milford, though there was no proof of it; (and Mr. Brainerd ever professed that he did not remember his saying any thing to that purpose;) for these things he was expelled the college. Now, how far the circumstances and exigencies of that day might justify such great severity in the governors of the college, I will not undertake to determine; it being my aim, not to bring reproach on the authority of the college, but only to do justice to the memory of a person, who was I think eminently one of those whose memory is blessed. The reader will see, in the sequel of the story of Mr. Brainerd's life, [354] what his own thoughts afterwards were of his behaviour in these things, and in how Christian a manner he conducted himself, with respect to this affair: though he ever, as long as he lived, supposed himself ill used in the management of it, and in what he suffered. His expulsion was in the winter, 1742, while in his third year at college. __________________________________________________________________ [351] In Mr. Brainerd's account of himself here, and continued in his Diary, the reader will find a growing interest and pleasure as he proceeds; in which is beautifully exemplified what the inspired penman declares, "The path of the just is as the morning light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day." And indeed even his diction and style of writing assume a gradual improvement W. [352] Mr. Fiske was the pastor of the church in Haddam. [353] Yale college, in New-Haven [354] Particularly under the date, Wednesday, Sept. 11, 1743 __________________________________________________________________ PART II. FROM ABOUT THE TIME THAT HE FIRST BEGAN TO DEVOTE HIMSELF MORE ESPECIALLY TO THE STUDY OF DIVINITY, TILL HE WAS EXAMINED AND LICENSED TO PREACH, BY THE ASSOCIATION OF MINISTERS BELONGING TO THE EASTERN DISTRICT OF THE COUNTY OF FAIRFIELD, IN CONNECTICUT. Mr. Brainerd, the Spring after his expulsion, went to live with the Reverend Mr. Mills, of Ripton, to pursue his studies with him, in order to his being fitted for the work of the ministry; where he spent the greater part of the time, till the Association licensed him to preach; but frequently rode to visit the neighbouring ministers, particularly Mr. Cooke of Stratford, Mr. Graham of Southbury, and Mr. Bellamy of Bethlehem. While with Mr. Mills, he began the third book of his diary, in which the account he wrote of himself, is as follows. "Thursday, April 1, 1742. I seem to be declining, with respect to my life and warmth in divine things; had not so free access to God in prayer as usual of late. O that God would humble me deeply in the dust before him! I deserve hell every day, for not loving my Lord more, who has, I trust, loved me, and given himself for me; and every time I am enabled to exercise any grace renewedly, I am renewedly indebted to the God of all grace for special assistance. Where then is boasting? Surely it is excluded, when we think how we are dependent on God for the being and every act of grace. Oh, if ever I get to heaven, it will be because God will, and nothing else; for I never did any thing of myself, but get away from God! My soul will be astonished at the unsearchable riches of divine grace, when I arrive at the mansions, which the blessed Saviour is gone before to prepare. "Friday, April 2. In the afternoon I felt, in secretprayer, much resigned, calm, and serene. What are all the storms of this lower world, if Jesus by his Spirit does but come walking on the seas! Some time past, I had much pleasure in the prospect of the heathen being brought home to Christ, and desired that the Lord would employ me in that work: but now, my soul more frequently desires to die, to be with Christ. O that my soul were wrapt up in divine love, and my longing desires after God increased! In the evening, was refreshed in prayer, with the hopes of the advancement of Christ's kingdom in the world. "Saturday, April 3. Was very much amiss this morning, and had a bad night. I thought, if God would take me to himself now, my soul would exceedingly rejoice. O that I may be always humble and resigned to God, and that he would cause my soul to be more fixed on himself, that I may be more fitted both for doing and suffering! "Lord's day, April 4. My heart was wandering and lifeless. In the evening God gave me faith in prayer, made my soul melt in some measure, and gave me to taste a divine sweetness. O my blessed God! Let me climb up near to him, and love, and long, and plead, and wrestle, and stretch after him, and for deliverance from the body of sin and death. Alas! my soul mourned to think I should ever lose sight of its beloved again. O come, Lord Jesus, Amen.'" On the evening of the next day, he complains, that he seemed to be void of all relish of divine things, felt much of the prevalence of corruption, and saw in himself a disposition to all manner of sin; which brought a very great gloom on his mind, and cast him down into the depths of melancholy; so that he speaks of himself as amazed, having no comfort, but filled with horror, seeing no comfort in heaven or earth. "Tuesday, April 6. I walked out this morning to the same place where I was last night, and felt as I did then; but was somewhat relieved by reading some passages in my diary, and seemed to feel as if I might pray to the great God again with freedom; but was suddenly struck with a damp, from the sense I had of my own vileness. Then I cried to God to cleanse me from my exceeding filthiness, to give me repentance and pardon. I then began to find it sweet to pray; and could think of undergoing the greatest sufferings, in the cause of Christ, with pleasure; and found myself willing, if God should so order it, to suffer banishment from my native land, among the heathen, that I might do something for their salvation, in distresses and deaths of any kind. Then God gave me to wrestle earnestly for others, for the kingdom of Christ in the world, and for dear Christian friends. I felt weaned from the world, and from my own reputation amongst men, willing to be despised, and to be a gazing-stock for the world to behold. It is impossible for me to express how I then felt: I had not much joy, but some sense of the majesty of God, which made me as it were tremble. I saw myself mean and vile, which made me more willing that God should do what he would with me; it was all infinitely reasonable. "Wednesday, April 7. I had not so much fervency, but felt something as I did yesterday morning, in prayer. At noon I spent some time in secret, with some fervency, but scarce any sweetness; and felt very dull in the evening. "Thursday, April 8. Had raised hopes to-day respecting the heathen. O that God would bring in great numbers of them to Jesus Christ! I cannot but hope I shall see that glorious day. Every thing in this world seems exceeding vile and little to me: I look so on myself. I had some little dawn of comfort to-day in prayer; but especially to-night, I think I had some faith and power of intercession with God. I was enabled to plead with God for the growth of grace in myself; and many of the dear children of God then lay with weight upon my soul. Blessed be the Lord! It is good to wrestle for divine blessings. "Friday, April 9. Most of my time in morning devotion was spent without sensible sweetness; yet I had one delightful prospect of arriving at the heavenly world. I am more amazed than ever at such thoughts; for I see myself infinitely vile and unworthy. I feel very heartless and dull; and though I long for the presence of God, and seem constantly to reach towards God in desires; yet I cannot feel that divine and heavenly sweetness that I used to enjoy. No poor creature stands in need of divine grace more than I, and none abuse it more than I have done, and still do. "Saturday, April 10. Spent much time in secret prayer this morning, and not without some comfort in divine things; and, I hope, had some faith in exercise: but am so low, and feel so little of the sensible presence of God, that I hardly know what to call faith, and am made to possess the sins of my youth, and the dreadful sin of my nature. I am all sin; I cannot think, nor act, but every motion is sin. I feel some faint hopes, that God will, of his infinite mercy, return again with showers of converting grace to poor gospel-abusing sinners; and my hopes of being employed in the cause of God, which of late have been almost extinct, seem now a little revived. O that all my late distresses and awful apprehensions might prove but Christ's school, to make me fit for greater service, by teaching me the great lesson of humility! "Lord's day, April 11. In the morning I felt but little life, excepting that my heart was somewhat drawn out in thankfulness to God for his amazing grace and condescension to me, in past influences and assistances of his Spirit. Afterwards, I had some sweetness in the thoughts of arriving at the heavenly world. O for the happy day! After public worship God gave me special assistance in prayer; I wrestled with my dear Lord, with much sweetness; and intercession was made a delightful employment to me. In the evening, as I was viewing the light in the north, I was delighted in contemplation on the glorious morning of the resurrection. "Monday, April 12. This morning the Lord was pleased to lift up the light of his countenance upon me in secret prayer, and made the season very precious to my soul. And though I have been so depressed of late, respecting my hopes of future serviceableness in the cause of God; yet now I had much encouragement respecting that matter. I was especially assisted to intercede and plead for poor souls, and for the enlargement of Christ's kingdom in the world, and for special grace for myself, to fit me for special services. I felt exceedingly calm, and quite resigned to God, respecting my future employment, when and where he pleased. My faith lifted me above the world, and removed all those mountains, that I could not look over of late. I wanted not the favour of man to lean upon; for I knew Christ's favour was infinitely better, and that it was no matter when, nor where, nor how Christ should send me, nor what trials he should still exercise me with, if I might be prepared for his work and will. I now found revived, in my mind, the wonderful discovery of infinite wisdom in all the dispensations of God towards me, which I had a little before I met with my great trial at college; every thing appeared full of divine wisdom. "Tuesday, April 13. I saw myself to be very mean and vile; and wondered at those that showed me respect. Afterwards I was somewhat comforted in secret retirement, and assisted to wrestle with God, with some power, spirituality, and sweetness. Blessed be the Lord, he is never unmindful of me, but always sends me needed supplies; and, from time to time, when I am like one dead, he raises me to life. O that I may never distrust infinite goodness! "Wednesday, April 14. My soul longed for communion with Christ, and for the mortification of indwelling corruption, especially spiritual pride. O there is a sweet day coming, wherein the weary will be at rest! My soul has enjoyed much sweetness this day in the hopes of its speedy arrival. "Thursday, April 15. My desires apparently centred in God, and I found a sensible attraction of soul after him sundry times to-day. I know I long for God, and a conformity to his will, in inward purity and holiness, ten thousand times more than for any thing here below. "Friday and Saturday, April 16, 17. I seldom prayed without some sensible joy in the Lord. Sometimes I longed much to he dissolved, and to be with Christ. O that God would enable me to grow in grace every day! Alas! my barrenness is such, that God might well say, Cut it dawn. I am afraid of a dead heart on the sabbath now begun: [355] O that God would quicken me by his grace! "Lord's day, April 18. I retired early this morning into the woods for prayer; had the assistance of God's Spirit, and faith in exercise; and was enabled to plead with fervency for the advancement of Christ's kingdom in the world, and to intercede for dear absent friends. At noon, God enabled me to wrestle with him, and to feel, as I trust, the power of divine love in prayer. At night I saw myself infinitely indebted to God, and had a view of my shortcomings: it seemed to me, that I had done as it were nothing for God, and that I never had lived to him but a few hours of my life. "Monday, April 19. I set apart this day for fasting, and prayer to God for his grace; especially to prepare me for the work of the ministry, to give me divine aid and direction in my preparations for that great work, and in his own time to send me into his harvest. Accordingly, in the morning, I endeavoured to plead for the divine presence for the day, and not without some life. In the forenoon, I felt the power of intercession for precious, immortal souls; for the advancement of the kingdom of my dear Lord and Saviour in the word; and withal, a most sweet resignation, and even consolation and joy in the thoughts of suffering hardships, distresses, and even death itself, in the promotion of it; and had special enlargement in pleading for the enlightening and conversion of the poor heathen. In the afternoon, God was with me of a truth. O it was blessed company indeed! God enabled me so to agonize in prayer, that I was quite wet with perspiration, though in the shade, and the cool wind. My soul was drawn out very much for the world; for multitudes of souls. I think I had more enlargement for sinners, than for the children of God; though I felt as if I could spend my life in cries for both. I enjoyed great sweetness in communion with my dear Saviour. I think I never in my life felt such an entire weanedness from this world, and so much resigned to God in every thing. O that I may always live to and upon my blessed God! Amen, Amen. "Tuesday, April 20. This day I am twenty-four years of age. O how much mercy have I received the year past! How often has God caused his goodness to pass before me! And how poorly have I answered the vows I made this time twelvemonth, to be wholly the Lord's, to be for ever devoted to his service! The Lord help me to live more to his glory for the time to come. This has been a sweet, a happy day to me: blessed be God. I think my soul was never so drawn out in intercession for others, as it has been this night. Had a most fervent wrestle with the Lord tonight for my enemies; and I hardly ever so longed to live to God, and to be altogether devoted to him; I wanted to wear out my life in his service, and for his glory. "Wednesday, April 21. Felt much calmness and resignation, and God again enabled me to wrestle for numbers of souls, and had much fervency in the sweet duty of intercession. I enjoyed of late more sweetness in intercession for others, than in any other part of prayer. My blessed Lord really let me come near to him, and plead with him." The frame of mind, and exercises of soul, that he expresses the three days next following, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, are much of the same kind with those expressed the two days past. "Lord's day, April 25. This morning I spent about two hours in secret duties, and was enabled more than ordinarily to agonize for immortal souls; though it was early in the morning, and the sun scarcely shined at all, yet my body was quite wet with sweat. I felt much pressed now, as frequently of late, to plead for the meekness and calmness of the Lamb of God in my soul; and through divine goodness felt much of it this morning. O it is a sweet disposition, heartily to forgive all injuries done us; to wish our greatest enemies as well as we do our own souls! Blessed Jesus, may I daily be more and more conformed to thee. At night I was exceedingly melted with divine love, and had some feeling sense of the blessedness of the upper world. Those words hung upon me, with much divine sweetness, Psal lxxxiv. 7. They go from strength to strength, every one of them in Zion appeareth before God.' O the near access that God sometimes gives us in our addresses to him! This may well be termed appearing before God: it is so indeed, in the true spiritual sense, and in the sweetest sense. I think I have not had such power of intercession these many months, both for God's children, and for dead sinners, as have had this evening. I wished and longed for the coming of my dear Lord: I longed to join the angelic hosts in praises, wholly free from imperfection. O the blessed moment hastens! All I want is to be more holy, more like my dear Lord. O for sanctification! My very soul pants for the complete restoration of the blessed image of my Saviour; that I may be fit for the blessed enjoyments and employments of the heavenly world. 'Farewell, vain world; my soul can bid adieu; My Saviour's taught me to abandon you. Your charms may gratify a sensual mind; Not please a soul wholly for God design'd. Forbear to entice, cease then my soul to call; Tis fix'd through grace; my God shall be my all. While he thus lets me heavenly glories view,Your beauties fade, my heart's no room for you.' "The Lord refreshed my soul with many sweet passages of his word. O the new Jerusalem! my soul longed for it. O the song of Moses and the Lamb! And that blessed song, that no man can learn, but they who are redeemed from the earth! and the glorious white robes, that were given to the souls under the altar! 'Lord, I'm a stranger here alone;Earth no true comforts can afford; Yet, absent from my dearest one, My soul delights to cry, My Lord. Jesus, my Lord, my only love, Possess my soul, nor thence depart; Grant me kind visits, heavenly Dove; My God shall then have all my heart.' "Monday, April 26. Continued in a sweet frame of mind; but in the afternoon felt something of spiritual pride stirring. God was pleased to make it an humbling season at first; though afterwards he gave me sweetness. O my soul exceedingly longs for that blessed state of perfect deliverance from all sin! At night, God enabled me to give my soul up to him, to cast myself upon him, to be ordered and disposed of according to his sovereign pleasure; and I enjoyed great peace and consolation in so doing. My soul took sweet delight in God; my thoughts freely and sweetly centred in him. O that I could spend every moment of my life to his glory! "Tuesday, April 27. I retired pretty early for secret devotions; and in prayer God was pleased to pour such ineffable comforts into my soul, that I could do nothing for some time but say over and over,' O my sweet Saviour! O my sweet Saviour! whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire beside thee.' If I had had a thousand lives, my soul would gladly have laid them all down at once to have been with Christ. My soul never enjoyed so much of heaven before; it was the most refined and the most spiritual season of communion with God I ever yet felt. I never felt so great a degree of resignation in my life. In the afternoon I withdrew to meet with my God, but found myself much declined, and God made it an humbling season to my soul. I mourned over the body of death that is in me. It grieved me exceedingly, that I could not pray to and praise God with my heart full of divine heavenly love. O that my soul might never offer any dead, cold services to my God! In the evening had not so much divine love, as in the morning; but had a sweet season of fervent intercession. "Wednesday, April 28. I withdrew to my usual place of retirement in great peace and tranquillity, spent about two hours in secret duties, and felt much as I did yesterday morning, only weaker and more overcome. I seemed to depend wholly on my dear Lord; wholly weaned from all other dependences. I knew not what to say to my God, but only lean on his bosom, as it were, and breathe out my desires after a perfect conformity to him in all things. Thirsting desires, and insatiable longings, possessed my soul after perfect holiness. God was so precious to my soul, that the world with all its enjoyments was infinitely vile. I had no more value for the favour of men, than for pebbles. The Lord was my All; and that he overruled all, greatly delighted me. I think, my faith and dependence on God scarce ever rose so high. I saw him such a fountain of goodness, that it seemed impossible I should distrust him again, or be any way anxious about any thing that should happen to me. I now enjoyed great sweetness in praying for absent friends, and for the enlargement of Christ's kingdom in the world. Much of the power of these divine enjoyments remained with me through the day. In the evening my heart seemed to melt, and, I trust, was really humbled for indwelling corruption, and I mourned like a dove. I felt, that all my unhappiness arose from my being a sinner. With resignation I could bid welcome to all other trials; but sin hung heavy upon me; for God discovered to me the corruption of my heart. I went to bed with a heavy heart, because I was a sinner; though I did not in the least doubt of God's love. O that God would purge away my dross, and take away my tin, and make me seven times refined! "Thursday, April 29. I was kept off at a distance from God; but had some enlargement in intercession for precious souls. "Friday, April 30. I was somewhat dejected in spirit: nothing grieves me so much, as that I cannot live constantly to God's glory. I could bear any desertion or spiritual conflicts, if I could but have my heart all the while burning within me with love to God and desires of his glory. But this is impossible; for when I feel these, I cannot be dejected in my soul, but only rejoice in my Saviour, who has delivered me from the reigning power, and will shortly deliver me from the indwelling of sin. "Saturday, May 1. I was enabled to cry to God with fervency for ministerial qualifications, that he would appear for the advancement of his own kingdom, and that he would bring in the heathen, &c. Had much assistance in my studies. This has been a profitable week to me; I have enjoyed many communications of the blessed Spirit in my soul. "Lord's day, May 2. God was pleased this morning to give me such a sight of myself, as made me appear very vile in my own eyes. I felt corruption stirring in my heart, which I could by no means suppress; felt more and more deserted; was exceeding weak, and almost sick with my inward trials. "Monday, May 3. Had a sense of vile ingratitude. In the morning I withdrew to my usual place of retirement, and mourned for my abuse of my dear Lord: spent the day in fasting and prayer. God gave me much power of wrestling for his cause and kingdom; and it was a happy day to my soul. God was with me all the day, and I was more above the world than ever in my life." Through the remaining part of this week he complains almost every day of desertion, inward trials and conflicts, attended with dejection of spirit; but yet speaks of times of relief and sweetness, and daily refreshing visits of the divine Spirit, affording special assistance and comfort, and enabling, at some times, to much fervency and enlargement in religious duties. "Lord's day, May, 9. I think I never felt so much of the cursed pride of my heart, as well as the stubbornness of my will, before. Oh dreadful! what a vile wretch I am! I could submit to be nothing, and to lie down in the dust. O that God would humble me in the dust! I felt myself such a sinner, all day, that I had scarce any comfort. O when shall I be delivered from the body of this death! I greatly feared, lest through stupidity and carelessness I should lose the benefit of these trials. O that they might be sanctified to my soul! Nothing seemed to touch me but only this, that I was a sinner. Had a fervency and refreshment in social prayer in the evening. "Monday, May 10. I rode to New-Haven; saw some Christian friends there; and had comfort in joining in prayer with them, and hearing of the goodness of God to them, since I last saw them. "Tuesday, May 11. I rode from New-Haven to Weathersfeld; was very dull most of the day; had little spirituality in this journey, though I often longed to be alone with God; was much perplexed with vile thoughts; was sometimes afraid of every thing: but God was my helper. Catched a little time for retirement in the evening, to my comfort and rejoicing. Alas! I cannot live in the midst of a tumult. I long to enjoy God alone. "Wednesday, May 12. I had a distressing view of the pride, enmity, and vileness of my heart. Afterwards had sweet refreshment in conversing, and worshipping God, with Christian friends. "Thursday, May 13. Saw so much of the wickedness of my heart, that I longed to get away from myself. I never before thought there was so much spiritual pride in my soul. I felt almost pressed to death with my own vileness. Oh what a body of death is there in me! Lord, deliver my soul. I could not find any convenient place for retirement, and was greatly exercised. Rode to Hartford in the afternoon: had some refreshment and comfort in religious exercises with Christian friends; but longed for more retirement. O the closest walk with God is the sweetest heaven that can be enjoyed on earth! "Friday, May 14. I waited on a council of ministers convened at Hartford, and spread before them the treatment I had met with from the rector and tutors of Yale college; who thought it adviseable to intercede for me with the rector and trustees, and to entreat them to restore me to my former privileges in college. [356] After this, spent some time in religious exercises with Christian friends. "Saturday, May 15. I rode from Hartford to Hebron; was somewhat dejected on the road; appeared exceeding vile in my own eyes, saw much pride and stubbornness in my heart. Indeed I never saw such a week as this before; for I have been almost ready to die with the view of the wickedness of my heart. I could not have thought I had such a body of death in me. Oh that God would deliver my soul!" The three next days (which he spent at Hebron, Lebanon, and Norwich) he complains still of dulness and desertion, and expresses a sense of his vileness, and longing to hide himself in some cave or den of the earth: but yet speaks of some intervals of comfort and soul-refreshment each day. "Wednesday, May 19. (At Millington) I was so amazingly deserted this morning, that I seemed to feel a sort of horror in my soul. Alas! when God withdraws, what is there that can afford any comfort to the soul!" Through the eight days next following he expresses more calmness and comfort, and considerable life, fervency, and sweetness in religion. "Friday, May 28. (At New-Haven) I think I scarce ever felt so calm in my life; I rejoiced in resignation, and giving myself up to God, to be wholly and entirely devoted to him for ever." On the three following days there was, by the account he gives, a continuance of the same excellent frame of mind, last expressed: but it seems not to be altogether to so great a degree. "Tuesday, June 1. Had much of the presence of God in family prayer, and had some comfort in secret. I was greatly refreshed from the word of God this morning, which appeared exceeding sweet to me: some things that appeared mysterious, were opened to me. O that the kingdom of the dear Saviour might come with power, and the healing waters of the sanctuary spread far and wide for the healing of the nations! Came to Ripton; but was very weak. However, being visited by a number of young people in the evening, I prayed with them." The remaining part of this week he speaks of being much diverted and hindered in the business of religion, by great weakness of body, and necessary affairs he had to attend; and complains of having but little power in religion; but signifies, that God hereby showed him he was like a helpless infant cast out in the open field. "Lord's day, June 6. I feel much deserted: but all this teaches me my nothingness and vileness more than ever. "Monday, June 7. Felt still powerless in secret prayer. Afterwards I prayed and conversed with some little life. God feeds me with crumbs: blessed be his name for any thing. I felt a great desire, that all God's people might know how mean and little and vile I am; that they might see I am nothing, that so they might pray for me aright, and not have the least dependence upon me. "Tuesday, June 8. I enjoyed one sweet and precious season this day: I never felt it so sweet to be nothing, and less than nothing, and to be accounted nothing." The three next days he complains of desertion, and want of fervency in religion; but yet his diary shows that every day his heart was engaged in religion, as his great, and, as it were, only business. "Saturday, June 12. Spent much time in prayer this morning, and enjoyed much sweetness: felt insatiable longings after God much of the day. I wondered how poor souls do to live that have no God. The world, with all its enjoyments, quite vanished. I see myself very helpless: but I have a blessed God to go to. I longed exceedingly to be dissolved, and to be with Christ, to behold his glory. Oh, my weak, weary soul longs to arrive at my Father's house! "Lord's day, June 13. Felt something calm and resigned in the public worship: at the sacrament saw myself very vile and worthless. O that I may always lie low in the dust. My soul seemed steadily to go forth after God, in longing desires to live upon him. "Monday, June 14. Felt something of the sweetness of communion with God, and the constraining force of his love: how admirably it captivates the soul, and makes all the desires and affections to centre in God! I set apart this day for secret fasting and prayer, to entreat God to direct and bless me with regard to the great work I have in view, of preaching the gospel; and that the Lord would return to me, and show me the light of his countenance. Had little life and power in the forenoon: near the middle of the afternoon, God enabled me to wrestle ardently in intercession for absent friends: but just at night, the Lord visited me marvellously in prayer: I think my soul never was in such an agony before. I felt no restraint; for the treasures of divine grace were opened to me. I wrestled for absent friends, for the ingathering of souls, for multitudes of poor souls, and for many that I thought were the children of God, personally, in many distant places. I was in such an agony, from sun half an hour high, till near dark, that I was all over wet with sweat; but yet it seemed to me that I had wasted away the day, and had done nothing. Oh, my dear Jesus did sweat blood for poor souls! I longed for more compassion towards them. Felt still in a sweet frame, under a sense of divine love and grace; and went to bed in such a frame, with my heart set on God. "Tuesday, June 15. Had the most ardent longings after God that ever I felt in my life: at noon, in my secret retirement, I could do nothing but tell my dear Lord, in a sweet calm, that he knew I longed for nothing but himself, nothing but holiness; that he had given me these desires, and he only could give me the thing desired. I never seemed to be so unhinged from myself, and to be so wholly devoted to God. My heart was swallowed up in God most of the day. In the evening I had such a view of the soul being as it were enlarged, to contain more holiness, that it seemed ready to separate from my body. I then wrestled in an agony for divine blessings; had my heart drawn out in prayer for some Christian friends, beyond what I ever had before. I feel differently now from whatever I did under any enjoyments before; more engaged to live to God for ever. and less pleased with my own frames. I am not satisfied with my frames, nor feel at all more easy after such strugglings than before; for it seems far too little, if I could always be so. Oh how short do I fall of my duty in my sweetest moments!" In his diary for the two next days he expresses something of the same frame, but in a far less degree. [357] "Friday, June 18. Considering my great unfitness for the work of the ministry, my present deadness, and total inability to do any thing for the glory of God that way, feeling myself very helpless, and at a great loss what the Lord would have me to do; I set apart this day for prayer to God, and spent most of the day in that duty, but amazingly deserted most of the day. Yet I found God graciously near, once in particular; while I was pleading for more compassion for immortal souls, my heart seemed to be opened at once, and I was enabled to cry with great ardency, for a few minutes. Oh, I was distressed to think, that I should offer such dead, cold services to the living God! My soul seemed to breathe after holiness, a life of constant devotedness to God. But I am almost lost sometimes in the pursuit of this blessedness, and ready to sink, because I continually fall short and miss of my desire. O that the Lord would help me to hold out, yet a little while, till the happy hour of deliverance comes! "Saturday, June 19. Felt much disordered; my spirits were very low: but yet enjoyed some freedom and sweetness in the duties of religion. Blessed be God. "Lord's day, June 20. Spent much time alone. My soul longed to be holy, and reached after God; but seemed not to obtain my desire. I hungered and thirsted; but was not refreshed and satisfied. My soul hung on God, as my only portion. O that I could grow in grace more abundantly every day!" The next day he speaks of his having assistance in his studies, and power, fervency, and comfort in prayer. "Tuesday, June 22. In the morning spent about two hours in prayer and meditation, with considerable delight. Towards night, felt my soul go out in longing desires after God, in secret retirement. In the evening, was sweetly composed and resigned to God's will; was enabled to leave myself and all my concerns with him, and to have my whole dependence upon him. My secret retirement was very refreshing to my soul; it appeared such a happiness to have God for my portion, that I had rather be any other creature in this lower creation, than not come to the enjoyment of God. I had rather be a beast, than a man without God, if I were to live here to eternity. Lord, endear thyself more to me!" In his diary for the next seven days he expresses a variety of exercises of mind. He speaks of great longings after God and holiness, and earnest desires for the conversion of others; of fervency in prayer, power to wrestle with God, composure, comfort, and sweetness, from time to time; but expresses a sense of the vile abomination of his heart, and bitterly complains of his barrenness, and the pressing body of death; and says, he "saw clearly that whatever he enjoyed, better than hell, was of free grace." He complains of being exceeding low, much below the character of a child of God; and is sometimes very disconsolate and dejected. "Wednesday, June 30. Spent this day alone in the woods, in fasting and prayer; underwent the most dreadful conflicts in my soul that ever I felt, in some respects. I saw myself so vile, that I was ready to say, "I shall now perish by the hand of Saul." I thought, and almost concluded, I had no power to stand for the cause of God, but was almost "afraid of the shaking of a leaf." Spent almost the whole day in prayer, incessantly. I could not bear to think of Christians showing me any respect. I almost despaired of doing any service in the world: I could not feel any hope or comfort respecting the heathen, which used to afford me some refreshment in the darkest hours of this nature. I spent the day in the bitterness of my soul. Near night, I felt a little better; and afterwards enjoyed some sweetness in secret prayer. "Thursday, July 1. Had some sweetness in prayer this morning. Felt exceeding sweetly in secret prayer to-night, and desired nothing so ardently as that God should do with me just as he pleased. "Friday, July 2. Felt composed in secret prayer in the morning. My desires ascended to God this day, as I was travelling: and was comfortable in the evening. Blessed be God for all my consolations. "Saturday, July 3. My heart seemed again to sink. The disgrace I was laid under at college, seemed to damp me; as it opens the mouths of opposers. I had no refuge but in God. Blessed be his name, that I may go to him at all times, and, find him a present help. "Lord's day, July 4. Had considerable assistance. In the evening I withdrew, and enjoyed a happy season in secret prayer. God was pleased to give me the exercise of faith, and thereby brought the invisible and eternal world near to my soul; which appeared sweetly to me. I hoped, that my weary pilgrimage in the world would be short; and that it would not be long before I was brought to my heavenly home and Father's house. I was resigned to God's will, to tarry his time, to do his work, and suffer his pleasure. I felt thankfulness to God for all my pressing desertions of late; for I am persuaded they have been made a means of making me more humble, and much more resigned. I felt pleased, to be little, to be nothing, and to lie in the dust. I enjoyed life and consolation in pleading for the dear children of God, and the kingdom of Christ in the world; and my soul earnestly breathed after holiness, and the enjoyment of God. O come, Lord Jesus, come quickly." By his diary for the remaining days of this week, it appears that he enjoyed considerable composure and tranquillity, and had sweetness and fervency of spirit in prayer, from day to day. "Lord's day, July 11. Was deserted, and exceedingly dejected, in the morning. In the afternoon, had some life and assistance, and felt resigned. I saw myself exceeding vile." On the two next days he expresses inward comfort, resignation, and strength in God. "Wednesday, July 14. Felt a kind of humble resigned sweetness: spent a considerable time in secret, giving myself up wholly to the Lord. Heard Mr. Bellamy preach towards night: felt very sweetly part of the time: longed for nearer access to God." The four next days he expresses considerable comfort and fervency of spirit, in Christian conversation and religious exercises. "Monday, July 19. My desires seem especially to be carried out after weanedness from the world, perfect deadness to it, and to be even crucified to all its allurements. My soul longs to feel itself more of a pilgrim and stranger here below; that nothing may divert me from pressing through the lonely desert, till I arrive at my Father's house. "Tuesday, July 20. It was sweet to give away myself to God, to be disposed of at his pleasure; and had some feeling sense of the sweetness of being a pilgrim on earth." The next day he expresses himself as determined to be wholly devoted to God; and it appears by his diary, that he spent the whole day in a most diligent exercise of religion, and exceeding comfortably. "Thursday, July 22. Journeying from Southbury to Ripton, I called at a house by the way; where being very kindly entertained and refreshed, I was filled with amazement and shame, that God should stir up the hearts of any to show so much kindness to such a dead dog as I; was made sensible, in some measure, how exceedingly vile it is, not to be wholly devoted to God. I wondered that God would suffer any of his creatures to feed and sustain me from time to time." In his diary for the six next days are expressed various exercises and experiences; such as, sweet composure and fervency of spirit in meditation and prayer, weanedness from the world, being sensibly a pilgrim and stranger on the earth, engagedness of mind to spend every inch of time for God, &c. "Thursday, July 29. I was examined by the Association met at Danbury, as to my learning, and also my experiences in religion, and received a licence from them to preach the gospel of Christ. Afterwards felt much devoted to God; joined in prayer with one of the ministers, my peculiar friend, in a convenient place; went to bed resolving to live devoted to God all my days. __________________________________________________________________ [355] In America, they begin to keep the Lord's day from six o'clock on Saturday evening. [356] The application which was then made on his behalf, had not the desired success. [357] Here end the 30 first pages of the third volume of his diary, which he speaks of in the beginning of this volume, (as observed before,) as containing a specimen of his ordinary manner of living, through the whole space of time, from the beginning of those two volumes that were destroyed. __________________________________________________________________ PART III. FROM THE TIME OF HIS BEING LICENSED TO PREACH BY THE ASSOCIATION, TILL HE WAS EXAMINED IN NEW YORK, BY THE CORRESPONDENTS, OR COMMISSIONERS OF THE SOCIETY IN SCOTLAND FOR PROPAGATING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE, AND APPROVED AND APPOINTED AS THEIR MISSIONARY TO THE INDIANS. "Friday, July 30, 1742. Rode from Danbury to Southbury; preached there from 1 Pet. iv. 8. And above all things have fervent charity,' &c. Had much of the comfortable presence of God in the exercise. I seemed to have power with God in prayer, and power to get hold of the hearts of the people in preaching. "Saturday, July 31. Exceeding calm and composed, and was greatly refreshed and encouraged." It appears by his diary, that he continued in this sweetness and tranquillity almost through the whole of the next week. "Lord's day, Aug. 8. In the morning I felt comfortably in secret prayer; my soul was refreshed with the hopes of the heathen coming home to Christ; was much resigned to God, and thought it was no matter what became of me. Preached both parts of the day at Bethlehem, from Job xiv. 14. "If a man die, shall he live again," &c. It was sweet to me to meditate on death. In the evening felt very comfortably, and cried to God fervently in secret prayer." It appears by his diary, that he continued through the three next days engaged with all his might in the business of religion, and in almost a constant enjoyment of the comforts of it. "Thursday, Aug. 12. This morning and last night I was exercised with sore inward trials: I had no power to pray; but seemed shut out from God. I had in a great measure lost my hopes of God sending me among the heathen afar off, and of seeing them flock home to Christ. I saw so much of my hellish vileness, that I appeared worse to myself than any devil: I wondered that God would let me live, and wondered that people did not stone me, much more that they would ever hear me preach! It seemed as though I never could nor should preach any more; yet about nine or ten o'clock, the people came over, and I was forced to preach. And blessed be God, he gave me his presence and Spirit in prayer and preaching: so that I was much assisted, and spake with power from Job xiv. 14. Some Indians cried out in great distress, [358] and all appeared greatly concerned. After we had prayed and exhorted them to seek the Lord with constancy, and hired an Englishwoman to keep a kind of school among them, we came away about one o clock, and came to Judea, about fifteen or sixteen miles. There God was pleased to visit my soul with much comfort. Blessed be the Lord for all things I meet with." It appears that the two next days he had much comfort, and had his heart much engaged in religion. "Lord's day, Aug. 15. Felt much comfort and devotedness to God this day. At night it was refreshing to get alone with God, and pour out my soul. O who can conceive of the sweetness of communion with the blessed God, but those who have experience of it! Glory to God for ever, that I may taste heaven below. "Monday, Aug. 16. Had some comfort in secret prayer, in the morning Felt sweetly sundry times in prayer this day: but was much perplexed in the evening with vain conversation. "Tuesday, Aug. 17. Exceedingly depressed in spirit, it cuts and wounds my heart, to think how much self-exaltation, spiritual pride, and warmth of temper, I have formerly had intermingled with my endeavours to promote God's work: and sometimes I long to lie down at the feet of opposers, and confess what a poor imperfect creature I have been, and still am. Oh, the Lord forgive me, and make me for the future "wise as a serpent, and harmless as a dove!" Afterwards enjoyed considerable comfort and delight of soul. "Wednesday, Aug. 18. Spent most of this day in prayer and reading. I see so much of my own extreme vileness, that I feel ashamed and guilty before God and man; I look to myself like the vilest fellow in the land: I wonder that God stirs up his people to be so kind to me. "Thursday, Aug. 19. This day, being about to go from Mr. Bellamy's at Bethlehem, where I had resided some time, I prayed with him, and two or three other Christian friends. We gave ourselves to God with all our hearts, to be his for ever: eternity looked very near to me, while I was praying. If I never should see these Christians again in this world, it seemed but a few moments before I should meet them in another world. "Friday, Aug. 20. I appeared so vile to myself, that I hardly dared to think of being seen especially on account of spiritual pride. However, to-night I enjoyed a sweet hour alone with God (at Ripton): I was lifted above the frowns and flatteries of this lower world, had a sweet relish of heavenly joys, and my soul did as it were get into the eternal world, and really taste of heaven. I had a sweet season of intercession for dear friends in Christ; and God helped me to cry fervently for Zion. Blessed be God for this season. "Saturday, Aug. 21. Was much perplexed in the morning. Towards noon enjoyed more of God in secret, was enabled to see that it was best to throw myself into the hands of God, to be disposed of according to his pleasure, and rejoiced in such thoughts. In the afternoon rode to New-Haven; was much confused all the way. Just at night underwent such a dreadful conflict as I have scarce ever felt. I saw myself exceedingly vile and unworthy; so that I was guilty, and ashamed that any body should bestow any favour on me, or show me any respect. "Lord's day, Aug. 22. In the morning, continued still in perplexity. In the evening, enjoyed that comfort that seemed to me sufficient to overbalance all my late distresses. I saw that God is the only soul-satisfying portion, and I really found satisfaction in him. My soul was much enlarged in sweet intercession for my fellowmen every where, and for many Christian friends in particular, in distant places. "Monday, Aug. 23. Had a sweet season in secret prayer: the Lord drew near to my soul, and filled me with peace and divine consolation. O my soul tasted the sweetness of the upper world; and was drawn out in prayer for the world, that it might come home to Christ! Had much comfort in the thoughts and hopes of the ingathering of the heathen; was greatly assisted in intercession for Christian friends." He continued still in the same frame of mind the next day, but in a lesser degree. "Wednesday, Aug. 25. In family prayer, God helped me to climb up near him, so that I scarce ever got nearer." The four next days, he appears to have been the subject of desertion, and of comfort, and fervency in religion, interchangeably, together with a sense of vileness and unprofitableness. "Monday, Aug. 30. Felt something comfortably in the morning; conversed sweetly with some friends; was in a serious composed frame; and prayed at a certain house with some degree of sweetness. Afterwards, at another house, prayed privately with a dear Christian friend or two; and I think I scarce ever launched so far into the eternal world as then; I got so far out on the broad ocean that my soul with joy triumphed over all the evils on the shores of mortality. I think time, and all its gay amusements and cruel disappointments, never appeared so inconsiderable to me before. I was in a sweet frame; I saw myself nothing, and my soul reached after God with intense desire. O! I saw what I owed to God, in such a manner, as I scarce ever did: I knew I had never lived a moment to him as I should do; indeed it appeared to me I had never done any thing in Christianity: my soul longed with a vehement desire to live to God. In the evening, sung and prayed with a number of Christians: felt the powers of the world to come in my soul, in prayer. Afterwards prayed again privately, with a dear Christian or two, and found the presence of God; was something humbled in my secret retirement: felt my ingratitude, because I was not wholly swallowed up in God." He was in a sweet frame great part of the next day. "Wednesday, Sept. 1. Went to Judea, to the ordination of Mr. Judd. Dear Mr. Bellamy preached from Matt. xxiv. 46. Blessed is that servant,' &c. I felt very solemn most of the time; had my thoughts much on that time when our Lord will came; that time refreshed my soul much; only I was afraid I should not be found faithful, because I had so vile a heart. My thoughts were much in eternity, where I love to dwell. Blessed be God for this solemn season. Rode home to-night with Mr. Bellamy, conversed with some friends till it was very late, and then retired to rest in a comfortable frame. "Thursday, Sept. 2. About two in the afternoon I preached from John vi. 67. Then said Jesus unto the twelve, Will ye also go away?' and God assisted me in some comfortable degree; but more especially in my first prayer: my soul seemed then to launch quite into the eternal world, and to be as it were separated from this lower world. Afterwards preached again from Isa. v. 4. What could have been done more,' &c. God gave me some assistance; but I saw myself a poor worm.' On Friday, Sept. 3. He complains of having but little life in the things of God, the former part of the day, but afterwards speaks of sweetness and enlargement. "Saturday, Sept. 4. Much out of health, exceedingly depressed in my soul, and at an awful distance from God. Towards night spent some time in profitable thoughts on Rom. viii. 2. For the law of the spirit of life,' &c. Near night had a very sweet season in prayer; God enabled me to wrestle ardently for the advancement of the Redeemer's kingdom; pleaded earnestly for my own dear brother John, that God would make him more of a pilgrim and stranger on the earth, and fit him for singular serviceableness in the world; and my heart sweetly exulted in the Lord, in the thoughts of any distresses that might alight on him or me, in the advancement of Christ's kingdom. It was a sweet and comfortable hour unto my soul, while I was indulged with freedom to plead, not only for myself, but also for many other souls. "Lord's day, Sept. 5. Preached all day: was somewhat strengthened and assisted in the afternoon; more especially in the evening: had a sense of my unspeakable short-comings in all my duties. I found, alas! that I had never lived to God in my life. "Monday, Sept. 6. Was informed, that they only waited for an opportunity to apprehend me for preaching at New-Haven lately, that so they might imprison me. This made me more solemn and serious, and to quit all hopes of the world's friendship: it brought me to a further sense of my vileness, and just desert of this, and much more, from the hand of God, though not from the hand of man. Retired into a convenient place in the woods, and spread the matter before God. "Tuesday, Sept. 7. Had some relish of divine things in the morning. Afterwards felt more barren and melancholy. Rode to New-Haven, to a friend's house at a distance from the town; that I might remain undiscovered, and yet have opportunity to do business privately with friends which come to commencement. "Wednesday, Sept. 8. Felt very sweetly when I first rose in the morning. In family prayer had some enlargement, but not much spirituality, till eternity came up before me, and looked near: I found some sweetness in the thoughts of bidding a dying farewell to this tiresome world. Though some time ago I reckoned upon seeing my dear friends at commencement; yet being now denied the opportunity, for fear of imprisonment, I felt totally resigned, and as contented to spend this day alone in the woods, as I could have done, if I had been allowed to go to town. Felt exceedingly weaned from the world to-day. In the afternoon I discoursed on divine things with a dear Christian friend, whereby we were both refreshed. Then I prayed, with a sweet sense of the blessedness of communion with God: I think I scarce ever enjoyed more of God in any one prayer. O it was a blessed season indeed to my soul; I know not that ever I saw so much of my own nothingness in my life; never wondered so, that God allowed me to preach his word. This has been a sweet and comfortable day to my soul. Blessed be God. Prayed again with my dear friend, with something of the divine presence. I long to be wholly conformed to God, and transformed into his image. "Thursday, Sept. 9. Spent much of the day alone: enjoyed the presence of God in some comfortable degree: was visited by some dear friends, and prayed with them: wrote sundry letters to friends; felt religion in my soul while writing: enjoyed sweet meditations on some scriptures. In the evening, went very privately into town, from the place of my residence at the farms, and conversed with some dear friends; felt sweetly in singing hymns with them: and made my escape to the farms again, without being discovered by any enemies, as I knew of. Thus the Lord preserves me continually. "Friday, Sept. 10. Longed with intense desire after God; my whole soul seemed impatient to be conformed to him, and to become holy, as he is holy.' In the afternoon, prayed with a dear friend privately, and had the presence of God with us; our souls united together to reach after a blessed immortality, to be unclothed of the body of sin and death, and to enter the blessed world, where no unclean thing enters. O, with what intense desire did our souls long for that blessed day, that we might be freed from sin, and for ever live to and in our God! In the evening, took leave of that house; but first kneeled down and prayed; the Lord was of a truth in the midst of us; it was a sweet parting season; felt in myself much sweetness and affection in the things of God. Blessed be God for every such divine gale of his Spirit, to speed me on in my way to the new Jerusalem! Felt some sweetness afterwards, and spent the evening in conversation with friends, and prayed with some life, and retired to rest very late." The five next days he appears to have been in an exceeding comfortable frame of mind, for the most part, and to have been the subject of the like heavenly exercises as are often expressed in preceding passages of his diary; such as, having his heart much engaged for God, wrestling with him in prayer with power and ardency; enjoying at times sweet calmness and composure of mind, giving himself up to God to be his for ever, with great complacence of mind; being wholly resigned to the will of God, that he might do with him what he pleased; longing to improve time, having the eternal world as it were brought nigh; longing after God and holiness, earnestly desiring a complete conformity to him, and wondering how poor souls do to exist without God. "Thursday, Sept. 16. At night enjoyed much of God in secret prayer: felt an uncommon resignation, to be and do what God pleased. Some days past I felt great perplexity on account of my past conduct: my bitterness, and want of Christian kindness and love, has been very distressing to my soul: the Lord forgive me my unchristian warmth, and want of a spirit of meekness!" The next day he speaks of much resignation, calmness, and peace of mind, and near views of the eternal world. "Saturday, Sept. 18. Felt some compassion for souls, and mourned I had no more. I feel much more kindness, meekness, gentleness, and love towards all mankind, than ever. I long to be at the feet of my enemies and persecutors: enjoyed some sweetness, in feeling my soul conformed to Christ Jesus, and given away to him for ever." The next day he speaks of much dejection and discouragement, from an apprehension of his own unfitness ever to do any good in preaching; but blesses God for all dispensations of providence and grace; finding that by all God weaned him more from the world, and made him more resigned. The next ten days he appears to have been for the most part under great degrees of melancholy, exceedingly dejected and discouraged: speaks of his being ready to give up all for gone respecting the cause of Christ, and exceedingly longing to die: yet had some sweet seasons and intervals of comfort, and special assistance and enlargement in the duties of religion, and in performing public services, and considerable success in them. "Thursday, Sept. 30. Still very low in spirits; I did not know how to engage in any work or business, especially to correct some disorders among Christians; felt as though I had no power to be faithful in that regard. However, towards noon I preached from Deut. viii. 2. Deut. viii. 2 And thou shalt remember,' &c. and was enabled with freedom to reprove some things in Christians' conduct, that I thought very unsuitable and irregular; insisted near two hours on this subject." Through this and the two following weeks he passed through a variety of exercises: he was frequently dejected, and felt inward distresses; and sometimes sunk into the depths of melancholy: at which turns he was not exercised about the state of his soul, with regard to the favour of God, and his interest in Christ, but about his own sinful infirmities, and unfitness for God's service. His mind appears sometimes extremely depressed and sunk with a sense of inexpressible vileness. But in the mean time he speaks of many seasons of comfort and spiritual refreshment, wherein his heart was encouraged and strengthened in God, and sweetly resigned to his will; of some seasons of very high degrees of spiritual consolation, and of his great longings after holiness and conformity to God; of his great fear of offending God, and of his heart being sweetly melted in religious duties; of his longing for the advancement of Christ's kingdom, of his having at times much assistance in preaching, and of remarkable effects on the auditory. "Lord's day, Oct. 17. Had a considerable sense of my helplessness and inability; saw that I must be dependent on God for all I want; and especially when I went to the place of public worship. I found I could not speak a word for God without his special help and assistance. I went into the assembly trembling, as I frequently do, under a sense of my insufficiency to do any thing in the cause of God, as I ought to do. But it pleased God to afford me much assistance, and there seemed to be a considerable effect on the hearers. In the evening I felt a disposition to praise God, for his goodness to me, that he had enabled me in some measure to be faithful; and my soul rejoiced to think, that I had thus performed the work of one day more, and was one day nearer my eternal, and I trust my heavenly, home. O that I might be "faithful to the death, fulfilling as an hireling my day," till the shades of the evening of life shall free my soul from the toils of the day! This evening, in secret prayer, I felt exceeding solemn, and such longing desires after deliverance from sin, and after conformity to God, as melted my heart. Oh, I longed to be "delivered from this body of death!" I felt inward pleasing pain, that I could not be conformed to God entirely, fully, and for ever. I scarce ever preach without being first visited with inward conflicts and sore trials. Blessed be the Lord for these trials and distresses as they are blessed for my humbling. "Monday, Oct. 18. In the morning I felt some sweetness, but still pressed through trials of soul. My life is a constant mixture of consolations and conflicts, and will be so till I arrive at the world of spirits. "Tuesday, Oct. 19. This morning and last night I felt a sweet longing in my soul after holiness. My soul seemed so to reach and stretch towards the mark of perfect sanctity, that it was ready to break with longings. "Wednesday, Oct. 20. Exceeding infirm in body, exercised with much pain, and very lifeless in divine things. Felt a little sweetness in the evening. "Thursday, Oct. 21. Had a very deep sense of the vanity of the world most of the day; had little more regard to it than if I had been to go into eternity the next hour. Through divine goodness, I felt very serious and solemn. O, I love to live on the brink of eternity, in my views and meditations! This gives me a sweet, awful, and reverential sense and apprehension of God and divine things, when I see myself as it were standing before the judgment-seat of Christ. "Friday, Oct. 22. Uncommonly weaned from the world to-day: my soul delighted to be a stranger and pilgrim on the earth; I felt a disposition in me never to have any thing to do with this world. The character given of some of the ancient people of God, in Heb. xi. 13. was very pleasing to me, They confessed that they were pilgrims and strangers on the earth,' by their daily practice; and O that I could always do so! Spent some considerable time in a pleasant grove, in prayer and meditation. O it is sweet to be thus weaned from friends, and from myself, and dead to the present world, that so I may live wholly to and upon the blessed God! Saw myself little, low, and vile in myself. In the afternoon preached at Bethlehem, from Deut. viii. 2. God helped me to speak to the hearts of dear Christians. Blessed be the Lord for this season: I trust they and I shall rejoice on this account to all eternity. Dear Mr. Bellamy came in, while I was making the first prayer; (being returned home from a journey;) and after meeting we walked away together, and spent the evening in sweetly conversing on divine things, and praying together, with sweet and tender love to each other, and returned to rest with our hearts in a serious spiritual frame. "Saturday, Oct. 23. Somewhat perplexed and confused. Rode this day from Bethlehem to Simsbury. "Lord's day, Oct. 24. Felt so vile and unworthy, that I scarce knew how to converse with human creatures. "Monday, Oct. 25. [At Turky-Hills] In the evening I enjoyed the divine presence in secret prayer. It was a sweet and comfortable season to me; my soul longed for God, for the living God: enjoyed a sweet solemnity of spirit, and longing desire after the recovery of the divine image in my soul. Then shall I be satisfied, when I shall awake in God's likeness,' and never before. "Tuesday, Oct. 26. [At West-Suffield] Underwent the most dreadful distresses, under a sense of my own unworthiness. It seemed to me, I deserved rather to be driven out of the place, than to have any body treat me with any kindness, or come to hear me preach. And verily my spirits were so depressed at this time, (as at many others,) that it was impossible I should treat immortal souls with faithfulness. I could not deal closely and faithfully with them, I felt so infinitely vile in myself. Oh, what dust and ashes I am, to think of preaching the gospel to others! Indeed I never can be faithful for one moment, but shall certainly daub with untempered mortar,' if God do not grant me special help. In the evening I went to the meeting-house, and it looked to me near as easy for one to rise out of the grave and preach, as for me. However, God afforded me some life and power, both in prayer and sermon; and was pleased to lift me up, and show me that he could enable me to preach. O the wonderful goodness of God to so vile a sinner! Returned to my quarters; and enjoyed some sweetness in prayer alone, and mourned that I could not live more to God. "Wednesday, Oct. 27. I spent the forenoon in prayer and meditation; was not a little concerned about preaching in the afternoon: felt exceedingly without strength, and very helpless indeed; and went into the meeting-house, ashamed to see any come to hear such an unspeakably worthless wretch. However, God enabled me to speak with clearness, power, and pungency. But there was some noise and tumult in the assembly, that I did not well like; and endeavoured to bear public testimony against it with moderation and mildness, through the current of my discourse. In the evening, was enabled to be in some measure thankful and devoted to God." The frames and exercises of his mind during the four next days were mostly very similar to those of the two days past; excepting intervals of considerable degrees of divine peace and consolation. The things expressed within the space of the three following days are such as these; some seasons of dejection, mourning for being so destitute of the exercises of grace, longing to be delivered from sin, pressing after more of God, seasons of sweet consolation, precious and intimate converse with God in secret prayer, sweetness of Christian conversation, &c. Within this time he rode from Sufileld to Eastbury, Hebron, and Lebanon. "Thursday, Nov. 4. [At Lebanon] Saw much of my nothingness most of this day: but felt concerned that I had no more sense of my insufficiency and unworthiness. O it is sweet lying in the dust! But it is distressing to feel in my soul that hell of corruption, which still remains in me. In the afternoon, had a sense of the sweetness of a strict, close, and constant devotedness to God, and my soul was comforted with his consolations. My soul felt a pleasing, yet painful concern, lest I should spend some moments without God. O may I always live to God! In the evening, I was visited by some friends, and spent the time in prayer and such conversation as tended to our edification. It was a comfortable season to my soul: I felt an intense desire to spend every moment for God. God is unspeakably gracious to me continually. In times past, he has given me inexpressible sweetness in the performance of duty. Frequently my soul has enjoyed much of God; but has been ready to say, Lord, it is good to be here;' and so to indulge sloth, while I have lived on the sweetness of my feelings. But of late, God has been pleased to keep my soul hungry, almost continually; so that I have been filled with a kind of pleasing pain. When I really enjoy God, I feel my desires of him the more insatiable, and my thirstings after holiness the more unquenchable; and the Lord will not allow me to feel as though I were fully supplied and satisfied, but keeps me still reaching forward. I feel barren and empty, as though I could not live without more of God; I feel ashamed and guilty before him. Oh! I see that the law is spiritual, but I am carnal.' I do not, I cannot live to God. Oh for holiness! Oh for more of God in my soul! Oh this pleasing pain! It makes my soul press after God; the language of it is, Then shall I be satisfied, when I awake in God's likeness,' (Ps. xvii. 15. ult.) but never, never before: and consequently I am engaged to press towards the mark' day by day. O that I may feel this continual hunger, and not be retarded, but rather animated by every cluster from Canaan, to reach forward in the narrow way, for the full enjoyment and possession of the heavenly inheritance! O that I may never loiter in my heavenly journey!" These insatiable desires after God and holiness continued the two next days, with a great sense of his own exceeding unworthiness, and the nothingness of the things of this world. "Lord's day, Nov. 7. [At Millington] It seemed as if such an unholy wretch as I never could arrive at that blessedness, to be holy, as God is holy.' At noon I longed for sanctification, and conformity to God. Oh, that is the all, the all! The Lord help me to press after God for ever. "Monday, Nov. 8. Towards night enjoyed much sweetness in secret prayer, so that my soul longed for an arrival in the heavenly country, the blessed paradise of God. Through divine goodness, I have scarce seen the day, for two months, but death has looked so pleasant to me at one time or other of the day, that I could have rejoiced the present should be my last, notwithstanding my pressing inward trials and conflicts. I trust the Lord will finally make me a conqueror, and more than a conqueror; and that I shall be able to use that triumphant language, O death, where is thy sting!' And, O grave, where is thy victory!'" Within the next ten days the following things are expressed: longing and wrestling to be holy, and to live to God; a desire that every single thought might be for God; feeling guilty, that his thoughts were no more swallowed up in God; sweet solemnity and calmness of mind; submission and resignation to God; great weanedness from the world; abasement in the dust; grief at some vain conversation that was observed; sweetness from time to time in secret prayer, and in conversing and praying with Christian friends. And every day he appears to have been greatly engaged in the great business of religion and living to God, without interruption. "Friday, Nov. 19. [At New-Haven] Received a letter from the Reverend Mr. Pemberton of New York, desiring me speedily to go down thither, and consult about the Indian affairs in those parts; and to meet certain gentlemen there who were intrusted with those affairs. My mind was instantly seized with concern; so I retired with two or three Christian friends, and prayed; and indeed it was a sweet time with me. I was enabled to leave myself and all my concerns with God; and taking leave of friends, I rode to Ripton, and was comforted in an opportunity to see and converse with dear Mr. Mills." In the four next following days he was sometimes oppressed with the weight of that great affair, about which Mr. Pemberton had written to him; but was enabled from time to time to "cast his burden on the Lord," and to commit himself and all his concerns to him. He continued still in a sense of the excellency of holiness, longings after it, and earnest desires of the advancement of Christ's kingdom in the world; and had from time to time sweet comfort in meditation and prayer. "Wednesday, Nov. 24. Came to New York: felt still much concerned about the importance of my business; put up many earnest requests to God for his help and direction; was confused with the noise and tumult of the city; enjoyed but little time alone with God: but my soul longed after him. "Thursday, Nov. 25. Spent much time in prayer and supplication: was examined by some gentlemen, of my Christian experiences, and my acquaintance with divinity, and some other studies, in order to my improvement in that important affair of gospellizing the heathen; [359] and was made sensible of my great ignorance and unfitness for public service. I had the most abasing thoughts of myself', I think, that ever I had; I thought myself the worst wretch that ever lived: it hurt me, and pained my very heart, that any body should show me any respect. Alas! methought, how sadly they are deceived in me! how miserably would they be disappointed, if they knew my inside! Oh my heart! And in this depressed condition I was forced to go and preach to a considerable assembly, before some grave and learned ministers; but felt such a pressure from a sense of my vileness, ignorance, and unfitness to appear in public, that I was almost overcome with it; my soul was grieved for the congregation; that they should sit there to hear such a dead dog as I preach. I thought myself infinitely indebted to the people, and longed that God would reward them with the rewards of his grace. I spent much of the evening alone." __________________________________________________________________ [358] It was in a place near Kent, in the western borders of Connecticut, where there is a number of Indians. [359] These gentlemen who examined Mr. Brainerd, were the correspondents in New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania, of the honourable Society in Scotland for propagating Christian Knowledge; to whom was committed the management of their affairs in those parts, and who were now met at New York. __________________________________________________________________ PART IV. FROM THE TIME OF HIS EXAMINATION BY THE CORRESPONDENTS OF THE SOCIETY FOR PROPAGATING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE, AND BEING APPOINTED THEIR MISSIONARY, TO HIS FIRST ENTRANCE ON THE BUSINESS OF HIS MISSION AMONG THE INDIANS AT KAUNAUMEEK. "Friday, Nov. 26. Had still a sense of my great vileness, and endeavoured as much as I could to keep alone. Oh, what a nothing, what dust and ashes am I! Enjoyed some peace and comfort in spreading my complaints before the God of all grace. "Saturday, Nov. 27. Committed my soul to God with some degree of comfort; left New York about nine in the morning; came away with a distressing sense still of my unspeakable unworthiness. Surely I may well love all my brethren; for none of them all is so vile as I; whatever they do outwardly, yet it seems to me none is conscious of so much guilt before God. Oh my leanness, my barrenness, my carnality, and past bitterness, and want of a gospel-temper! These things oppress my soul. Rode from New York, thirty miles, to White Plains, and most of the way continued lifting up my heart to God for mercy and purifying grace: and spent the evening much dejected in spirit." The three next days he continued in this frame, in a great sense of his own vileness, with an evident mixture of melancholy, in no small degree; but had some intervals of comfort, and God's sensible presence with him. "Wednesday, Dec. 1. My soul breathed after God, in sweet spiritual and longing desires of conformity to him; my soul was brought to rest itself and all on his rich grace, and felt strength and encouragement to do or suffer any thing that Divine Providence should allot me. Rode about twenty miles from Stratfield to Newton." Within the space of the next nine days he went a journey from Newton to Haddam, his native town; and after staying there some days, returned again into the western part of Connecticut, and came to Southbury. In his account of the frames and exercises of his mind, during this space of time, are such things as these: frequent turns of dejection; a sense of his vileness, emptiness, and an unfathomable abyss of desperate wickedness in his heart, attended with a conviction that he had never seen but little of it; bitterly mourning over his barrenness, being greatly grieved that he could not live to God, to whom he owed his all ten thousand times, crying out, "My leanness, my leanness!" a sense of the meetness and suitableness of his lying in the dust beneath the feet of infinite majesty; fervency and ardour in prayer; longing to live to God; being afflicted with some impertinent trifling conversation that he heard; but enjoying sweetness in Christian conversation. "Saturday, Dec. 11. Conversed with a dear friend, to whom I had thought of giving a liberal education, and being at the whole charge of it, that he might be fitted for the gospel-ministry. [360] I acquainted him with my thoughts in that matter, and so left him to consider of it, till I should see him again. Then I rode to Bethlehem, came to Mr. Bellamy's lodgings, and spent the evening with him in sweet conversation and prayer. We recommended the concern of sending my friend to college to the God of all grace. Blessed be the Lord for this evening's opportunity together. "Lord's day, Dec. 12. I felt, in the morning as if I had little or no power either to pray or preach; and felt a distressing need of divine help. I went to meeting trembling; but it pleased God to assist me in prayer and sermon. I think my soul scarce ever penetrated so far into the immaterial world, in any one prayer that ever I made, nor were my devotions ever so free from gross conceptions and imaginations framed from beholding material objects. I preached with some sweetness, from Matt. vi. 33. But seek ye first the kingdom of God,' &c.; and in the afternoon from Rom. xv. 30. And now I beseech you, brethren,' &c. There was much affection in the assembly. This has been a sweet sabbath to me; and blessed be God, I have reason to think, that my religion is become more spiritual, by means of my late inward conflicts. Amen. May I always be willing that God should use his own methods with me! "Monday, Dec. 13. Joined in prayer with Mr. Bellamy; and found sweetness and composure in parting with him, as he went a journey. Enjoyed some sweetness through the day; and just at night rode down to Woodbury. "Tuesday, Dec. 14. Some perplexity hung on my mind; I was distressed last night and this morning, for the interest of Zion, especially on account of the false appearances of religion, that do but rather breed confusion, especially in some places. I cried to God for help, to enable me to bear testimony against those things, which instead of promoting, do but hinder the progress of vital piety. In the afternoon rode down to Southbury; and conversed again with my friend about the important affair of his pursuing the work of the ministry; and he appeared much inclined to devote himself to that work, if God should succeed his attempts to qualify himself for so great a work. In the evening I preached from 1 Thess. iv. 8. He therefore that despiseth,' &c. and endeavoured, though with tenderness, to undermine false religion. The Lord gave me some assistance; but, however, I seemed so vile, I was ashamed to be seen when I came out of the meeting-house. "Wednesday, Dec. 15. Enjoyed something of God to-day, both in secret and social prayer; but was sensible of much barrenness, and defect in duty, as well as my inability to help myself for the time to come, or to perform the work and business I have to do. Afterwards, felt much of the sweetness of religion, and the tenderness of the gospel-temper. I found a dear love to all mankind, and was much afraid lest some motion of anger or resentment should, some time or other, creep into my heart. Had some comforting soul-refreshing discourse with dear friends, just as we took our leave of each other; and supposed it might be likely we should not meet again till we came to the eternal world. [361] I doubt not, through grace, but that some of us shall have a happy meeting there, and bless God for this season, as well as many others. Amen. "Thursday, Dec. 16. Rode down to Derby; and had some sweet thoughts on the road: especially on the essence of our salvation by Christ, from those words, Thou shalt call his name Jesus, &c. "Friday, Dec. 17. Spent much time in sweet conversation on spiritual things with dear Mr. Humphreys. Rode to Ripton; spent some time in prayer with dear Christian friends. "Saturday, Dec. 18. Spent much time in prayer in the woods; and seemed raised above the things of the world: my soul was strong in the Lord of hosts; but was sensible of great barrenness. "Lord's day, Dec. 19. At the sacrament of the Lord's supper, I seemed strong in the Lord; and the world, with all its frowns and flatteries, in a great measure disappeared, so that my soul had nothing to do with them: and I felt a disposition to be wholly and for ever the Lord's. In the evening, enjoyed something of the divine presence; had a humbling sense of my vileness, barrenness, and sinfulness. Oh, it wounded me, to think of the misimprovement of time! God be merciful to me a sinner. "Monday, Dec. 20. Spent this day in prayer, reading, and writing; and enjoyed some assistance, especially in correcting some thoughts on a certain subject; but had a mournful sense of my barrenness. "Tuesday, Dec. 21. Had a sense of my insufficiency for any public work and business, as well as to live to God. I rode over to Derby, and preached there. It pleased God to give me very sweet assistance and enlargement, and to enable me to speak with a soft, tender power and energy. We had afterwards a comfortable evening in singing and prayer. God enabled me to pray with as much spirituality and sweetness as I have done for some time: my mind seemed to be unclothed of sense and imagination, and was in a measure let into the immaterial world of spirits. This day was, I trust, through infinite goodness, made very profitable to a number of us, to advance our souls in holiness and conformity to God: the glory be to him for ever. Amen. How blessed it is to grow more and more like God. "Wednesday, Dec. 22. Enjoyed some assistance in preaching at Ripton; but my soul mourned within me for my barrenness. "Thursday, Dec. 23. Enjoyed, I trust, something of God this morning in secret. Oh how divinely sweet is it to come into the secret of his presence, and abide in his pavilion! Took an affectionate leave of friends, not expecting to see them again for a very considerable time, if ever in this world. Rode with Mr. Humphreys to his house at Derby; spent the time in sweet conversation; my soul was refreshed and sweetly melted with divine things. Oh that I was always consecrated to God! Near night, I rode to New-Haven, and there enjoyed some sweetness in prayer and conversation, with some dear Christian friends. My mind was sweetly serious and composed; but alas! I too much lost the sense of divine things." He continued much in the same frame of mind, and in like exercises, the two following days. "Lord's day, Dec. 26. Felt much sweetness and tenderness in prayer, especially my whole soul seemed to love my worst enemies, and was enabled to pray for those that are strangers and enemies to God with a great degree of softness and pathetic fervour. In the evening, rode from New-Haven to Branford, after I had kneeled down and prayed with a number of dear Christian friends in a very retired place in the woods, and so parted. "Monday, Dec. 27. Enjoyed a precious season indeed; had a sweet melting sense of divine things, of the pure spirituality of the religion of Christ Jesus. In the evening, I preached from Matt. vi. 33. But seek ye first,' &c. with much freedom, and sweet power and pungency: the presence of God attended our meeting. O the sweetness, the tenderness I felt in my soul! if ever I felt the temper of Christ, I had some sense of it now. Blessed be my God, I have seldom enjoyed a more comfortable and profitable day than this. O that I could spend all my time for God! "Tuesday, Dec. 28. Rode from Branford to Haddam. In the morning, my clearness and sweetness in divine things continued; but afterwards my spiritual life sensibly declined." The next twelve days he was for the most part extremely dejected, discouraged, and distressed; and was evidently very much under the power of melancholy. There are from day to day most bitter complaints of exceeding vileness, ignorance, and corruption; an amazing load of guilt, unworthiness even to creep on God's earth, everlasting uselessness, fitness for nothing, &c. and sometimes expressions even of horror at the thoughts of ever preaching again. But yet in this time of great dejection, he speaks of several intervals of divine help and comfort. The three next days, which were spent at Hebron and the Crank, (a parish in Lebanon,) he had relief, and enjoyed considerable comfort. "Friday, Jan. 14, 1743. My spiritual conflicts to-day were unspeakably dreadful, heavier than the mountains and overflowing floods. I seemed enclosed, as it were, in hell itself: I was deprived of all sense of God, even of the being of a God; and that was my misery. I had no awful apprehensions of God as angry. This was distress the nearest akin to the damneds' torments, that I ever endured: their torment, I am sure, will consist much in a privation of God, and consequently of all good. This taught me the absolute dependence of a creature upon God the Creator, for every crumb of happiness it enjoys. Oh! I feel that if there is no God, though I might live for ever here, and enjoy not only this, but all other worlds, I should be ten thousand times more miserable than a toad. My soul was in such anguish I could not eat; but felt as I suppose a poor wretch would that is just going to the place of execution. I was almost swallowed up with anguish, when I saw people gathering together, to hear me preach. However, I went in that distress to the house of God, and found not much relief in the first prayer: it seemed as if God would let loose the people upon me to destroy me; nor were the thoughts of death distressing to me, like my own vileness. But afterwards, in my discourse from Deut. viii. 2. God was pleased to give me some freedom and enlargement, some power and spirituality; and I spent the evening somewhat comfortably." The two next days his comfort continues, and he seems to enjoy an almost continual sweetness of soul in the duties and exercises of religion and Christian conversation. On Monday was a return of the gloom he had been under the Friday before. He rode to Coventry this day, and the latter part of the day had more freedom. On Tuesday he rode to Canterbury, and continued more comfortable. "Wednesday, Jan. 19. [At Canterbury] In the afternoon preached the lecture at the meeting-house; felt some tenderness, and something of the gospel-temper: exhorted the people to love one another, and not to set up their own frames as a standard to try all their brethren by. But was much pressed, most of the day, with a sense of my own badness, inward impurity, and unspeakable corruption. Spent the evening in loving, Christian conversation. "Thursday, Jan. 20. Rode to my brother's house between Norwich and Lebanon; and preached in the evening to a number of people: enjoyed neither freedom nor spirituality, but saw myself exceeding unworthy. "Friday, Jan. 21. Had great inward conflicts; enjoyed but little comfort. Went to see Mr. Williams of Lebanon, and spent several hours with him; and was greatly delighted with his serious, deliberate, and impartial way of discourse about religion." The next day he was much dejected. "Lord's day, Jan. 23. I scarce ever felt myself so unfit to exist, as now: saw I was not worthy of a place among the Indians, where I am going, if God permit: thought I should be ashamed to look them in the face, and much more to have any respect shown me there. Indeed I felt myself banished from the earth, as if all places were too good for such a wretch. I thought I should be ashamed to go among the very savages of Africa; I appeared to myself a creature fit for nothing, neither heaven nor earth. None know, but those who feel it, what the soul endures that is sensibly shut out from the presence of God: alas! it is more bitter than death." On Monday he rode to Stoningtown, Mr. Fish's parish. On Tuesday he expresses considerable degrees of spiritual comfort and refreshment. "Wednesday, Jan. 26. Preached to a pretty large assembly at Mr. Fish's meeting-house; insisted on humility, and stedfastness in keeping God's commands; and that through humility we should prefer one another in love, and not make our own frames the rule by which we judge others. I felt sweetly calm, and full of brotherly love; and never more free from party spirit. I hope some good will follow; that Christians will be freed from false joy, and party zeal, and censuring one another." On Thursday, after considerable time spent in prayer and Christian conversation, he rode to New London. "Friday, Jan. 28. Here I found some fallen into extravagances; too much carried away with a false zeal and bitterness. Oh, the want of a gospel-temper is greatly to be lamented. Spent the evening in conversing about some points of conduct in both ministers and private Christians; but did not agree with them. God had not taught them with briers and thorns to be of a kind disposition towards mankind." On Saturday he rode to East Haddam, and spent the three following days there. In that space of time he speaks of his feeling weanedness from the world, a sense of the nearness of eternity, special assistance in praying for the enlargement of Christ's kingdom, times of spiritual comfort, &c. "Wednesday, Feb. 2. Preached my farewell sermon, last night, at the house of an aged man, who had been unable to attend on the public worship for some time. This morning spent the time in prayer, almost wherever I went; and having taken leave of friends, I set out on my journey towards the Indians; though I was to spend some time at East Hampton on Long island, by leave of the commissioners who employed me in the Indian affair; [362] and being accompanied by a messenger from East-Hampton, we travelled to Lyme. On the road I felt an uncommon pressure of mind: I seemed to struggle hard for some pleasure in some here below, and seemed loth to give up all for gone; saw I was evidently throwing myself into all hardships and distresses in my present undertaking. I thought it would be less difficult to lie down in the grave; but yet I chose to go, rather than stay. Came to Lyme that night." He waited the two next days for a passage over the Sound, and spent much of the time in inward conflicts and dejection, but had some comfort. On Saturday he crossed the Sound, and landed at Oyster-Ponds on Long Island, and travelled from thence to East Hampton. And the seven following days he spent there, for the most part, under extreme dejection and gloominess of mind, with great complaints of darkness, ignorance, &c. Yet his heart appears to have been constantly engaged in the great business of religion, much concerned for the interest of religion in East Hampton, and praying and labouring much for it. "Saturday, Feb. 12. Enjoyed a little more comfort; was enabled to meditate with some composure of mind; and especially in the evening, found my soul more refreshed in prayer, than at any time of late; my soul seemed to take hold of God's strength,' and was comforted with his consolations. O how sweet are some glimpses of divine glory! how strengthening and quickening! "Lord's day, Feb. 13. At noon under a great degree of discouragement; knew not how it was possible for me to preach in the afternoon. I was ready to give up all for gone; but God was pleased to assist me in some measure. In the evening, my heart was sweetly drawn out after God, and devoted to him." The next day he had comfort and dejection intermingled. "Tuesday, Feb. 15. Early in the day I felt some comfort; afterwards I walked into a neighbouring grove, and felt more as a stranger on earth, I think, than ever before; dead to any of the enjoyments of the world, as if I had been dead in a natural sense. In the evening, had divine sweetness in secret duty: God was then my portion, and my soul rose above those deep waters, into which I have sunk so low of late. My soul then cried for Zion, and had sweetness in so doing." This sweet frame continued the next morning; but afterwards his inward distress returned. "Thursday, Feb. 17. In the morning found myself comfortable, and rested on God in some measure. Preached this day at a little village belonging to East Hampton; and God was pleased to give me his gracious presence and assistance, so that I spake with freedom, boldness, and some power. In the evening, spent some time with a dear Christian friend; and felt serious, as on the brink of eternity. My soul enjoyed sweetness in lively apprehensions of standing before the glorious God: prayed with my dear friend with sweetness, and discoursed with the utmost solemnity. And truly it was a little emblem of heaven itself. I find my soul is more refined and weaned from a dependence on my frames and spiritual feelings. "Friday, Feb. 18. Felt something sweetly most of the day, and found access to the throne of grace. Blessed be the Lord for any intervals of heavenly delight and composure, while I am engaged in the field of battle. O that I might be serious, solemn, and always vigilant, while in an evil world! Had some opportunity alone to-day, and found some freedom in study. O, I long to live to God! "Saturday, Feb. 19. Was exceeding infirm to-day, greatly troubled with pain in my head and dizziness, scarce able to sit up. However, enjoyed something of God in prayer, and performed some necessary studies. I exceedingly long to die; and yet, through divine goodness, have felt very willing to live, for two or three days past. "Lord's day, Feb. 20. I was perplexed on account of my carelessness; thought I could not be suitably concerned about the important work of the day, and so was restless with my easiness. Was exceeding infirm again to-day; but the Lord strengthened me, both in the outward and inward man, so that I preached with some life and spirituality, especially in the afternoon, wherein I was enabled to speak closely against selfish religion, that loves Christ for his benefits, but not for himself." During the next fortnight, it appears that, for the most part, he enjoyed much spiritual peace and comfort. In his diary for this space of time are expressed such things as these; mourning over indwelling sin and unprofitableness; deadness to the world; longing after God, and to live to his glory; heart-melting desires after his eternal home; fixed reliance on God for his help; experience of much divine assistance both in the private and public exercises of religion; inward strength and courage in the service of God; very frequent refreshment, consolation, and divine sweetness in meditation, prayer, preaching, and Christian conversation. And it appears by his account, that this space of time was filled up with great diligence and earnestness in serving God, in study, prayer, meditation, preaching, and privately instructing and counselling. "Monday, March 7. This morning when I arose, I found my heart go forth after God in longing desires of conformity to him, and in secret prayer found myself sweetly quickened and drawn out in praises to God for all he had done to and for me, and for all my inward trials and distresses of late. My heart ascribed glory, glory, glory to the blessed God! and bid welcome to all inward distress again, if God saw meet to exercise me with it. Time appeared but an inch long, and eternity at hand; and I thought I could with patience and cheerfulness bear any thing for the cause of God; for I saw that a moment would bring me to a world of peace and blessedness. My soul, by the strength of the Lord, rose far above this lower world, and all the vain amusements and frightful disappointments of it. Afterwards, had some sweet meditation on Gen. v. 24. And Enoch walked with God,' &c. This was a comfortable day to my soul." The next day he seems to have continued in a considerable degree of sweetness and fervency in religion. "Wednesday, March 9. Endeavoured to commit myself and all my concerns to God. Rode sixteen miles to Mantauk, [363] and had some inward sweetness on the road; but something of flatness and deadness after I came there and had seen the Indians. I withdrew, and endeavoured to pray, but found myself awfully deserted and left, and had an afflicting sense of my vileness and meanness. However, I went and preached from Isa. liii. 10. Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise him,' &c. Had some assistance; and, I trust, something of the divine presence was among us. In the evening, I again prayed and exhorted among them, after having had a season alone, wherein I was so pressed with the blackness of my nature, that I thought it was not fit for me to speak so much as to Indians." The next day he returned to East Hampton; was exceeding infirm in body through the remaining part of this week; but speaks of assistance and enlargement in study and religious exercises, and of inward sweetness and breathing after God. "Lords day, March 13. At noon I thought it impossible for me to preach, by reason of bodily weakness and inward deadness. In the first prayer I was so weak that I could hardly stand; but in the sermon God strengthened me, so that I spake near an hour and a half with sweet freedom, clearness, and some tender power, from Gen. v. 24. And Enoch walked with God.' I was sweetly assisted to insist on a close walk with God, and to leave this as my parting advice to God's people here, that they should walk with God. May the God of all grace succeed my poor labours in this place! "Monday, March 14. In the morning was very busy in preparation for my journey, and was almost continually engaged in ejaculatory prayer. About ten, took leave of the dear people of East Hampton; my heart grieved and mourned, and rejoiced at the same time; rode near fifty miles to a part of Brook-Haven, and lodged there, and had refreshing conversation with a Christian friend." In two days more he reached New York; but complains of much desertion and deadness on the road. He stayed one day in New York, and on Friday went to Mr. Dickinson's at Elizabeth-Town. His complaints are the same as on the two preceding days. "Saturday, March 19. Was bitterly distressed under a sense of my ignorance, darkness, and unworthiness; got alone, and poured out my complaint to God in the bitterness of my soul. In the afternoon, rode to Newark, and had some sweetness in conversation with Mr. Burr, and in praying together. O blessed be God for ever and ever, for any enlivening and quickening seasons. "Lord's day, March 20. Preached in the forenoon: God gave me some assistance and sweetness, and enabled me to speak with real tenderness, love, and impartiality. In the evening, preached again; and, of a truth, God was pleased to assist a poor worm. Blessed be God, I was enabled to speak with life, power, and desire of the edification of God's people; and with some power to sinners. In the evening, I felt spiritual and watchful, lest my heart should by any means be drawn away from God. Oh, when I shall come to that blessed world, where every power of my soul will be incessantly and eternally wound up in heavenly employments and enjoyments, to the highest degree!" On Monday he went to Woodbridge, where he speaks of his being with a number of ministers; [364] and, the day following, of his travelling part of the way towards New York. On Wednesday he came to New York. On Thursday he rode near fifty miles, from New York to North-Castle. On Friday went to Danbury. Saturday, to New Milford. On the sabbath he rode five or six miles to the place near Kent in Connecticut, called Scaticoke, where dwell a number of Indians, [365] and preached to them. On Monday, being detained by the rain, he tarried at Kent. On Tuesday he rode from Kent to Salisbury. Wednesday he went to Sheffield. Thursday, March 31, he went to Mr. Sergeant's at Stockbridge. He was dejected and very disconsolate, through the main of this journey from New Jersey to Stockbridge; and especially on the last day his mind was overwhelmed with exceeding gloominess and melancholy. __________________________________________________________________ [360] Mr. Brainerd, having now undertaken the business of a missionary to the Indians, and expecting in a little time to leave his native country, to go among the savages into the wilderness, far distant, and spend the remainder of his life among them and having some estate left him by his father, and thinking he should have no occasion for it among them, (though afterwards, as he told me, he found himself mistaken) set himself to think which way he might spend it most to the glory of God; and no way presenting to his thoughts wherein he could do more good with it, than by being at the charge of educating some young person for the ministry, who appeared to be of good abilities, and well disposed, he fixed upon the person here spoken of to this end. Accordingly he was soon put to learning; and Mr. Brainerd continued to be at the charge of his education from year to year, so long as he lived, which was till this young man was carried through his third year in college. [361] It had been determined by the commissioners, who employed Mr. Brainerd as a missionary, that he should go as soon as might be conveniently to the Indians living near the Forks of Delaware river in Pennsylvania, and the Indians on Susquehannah river; which being far off, where also he would be exposed to many hardships and dangers, was the occasion of his taking leave of his friends in this manner. [362] The reason why the commissioners or correspondents did not order Mr. Brainerd to go immediately to the Indians, and enter on his business as a missionary, was, that the winter was not judged to be a convenient season for him first to go out into the wilderness, and enter on the difficulties and hardships he must there be exposed to. [363] Mantauk is the eastern cape or end of Long Island, inhabited chiefly by Indians. [364] These ministers were the correspondents who now met at Woodbridge, and gave Mr. Brainerd new directions. Instead of sending him to the Indians at the Forks of Delaware, as before intended, they ordered him to go to a number of Indians, at Kaunaumeek: a place in the province of New York, in the woods between Stockbridge and Albany. This alteration was occasioned by two things, viz. 1. Information that the correspondents had received of some contention now subsisting between the white people and the Indians at Delaware, concerning their lands, which they supposed would be a hinderance at present to their entertainment of a missionary, and to his success among them. And, 2. Some intimations they had received from Mr. Sergeant, missionary to the Indians at Stockbridge, concerning the Indians at Kaunaumeek, and the hopeful prospect of success that a missionary might have among them. [365] These were the same Indians that Mr. Brainerd mentions in his diary, on August 12, the preceding year. __________________________________________________________________ "Friday, April 1, 1743. I rode to Kaunaumeek, near twenty miles from Stockbridge, where the Indians live with whom I am concerned, and there lodged on a little heap of straw. I was greatly exercised with inward trials and distresses all day; and in the evening, my heart was sunk, and I seemed to have no God to go to. O that God would help me!" The next five days he was for the most part in a dejected, depressed state of mind, and sometimes extremely so. He speaks of God's "waves and billows rolling over his soul;" and of his being ready sometimes to say, "Surely his mercy is clean gone for ever, and he will be favourable no more;" and says, the anguish he endured was nameless and inconceivable; but at the same time speaks thus concerning his distresses, "What God designs by all my distresses I know not; but this I know, I deserve them all and thousands more." He gives an account of the Indians kindly receiving him, and being seriously attentive to his instructions. "Thursday, April 7. Appeared to myself exceeding ignorant, weak, helpless, unworthy, and altogether unequal to my work. It seemed to me I should never do any service or have any success among the Indians. My soul was weary of my life; I longed for deaths beyond measure. When I thought of any godly soul departed, my soul was ready to envy him his privilege, thinking, Oh, when will my turn come! must it be years first!' But I know, these ardent desires, at this and other times, rose partly for want of resignation to God under all miseries; and so were but impatience. Towards night, I had the exercise of faith in prayer, and some assistance in writing. O that God would keep me near him! "Friday, April 8. Was exceedingly pressed under a sense of my pride, selfishness, bitterness, and party spirit, in times past, while attempted to promote the cause of God. Its vile nature and dreadful consequences appeared in such odious colours to me, that my very heart was pained. I saw how poor souls stumbled over it into everlasting destruction, that I was constrained to make that prayer in the bitterness of my soul, O lord, deliver me from blood-guiltiness.' I saw my desert of hell on this account. My soul was full of inward anguish and shame before God, that I had spent so much time in conversation tending only to promote a party spirit. Oh, I saw I had not suitably prized mortification, self-denial, resignation under all adversities, meekness, love, candour, and holiness of heart and life: and this day was almost wholly spent in such bitter and soul-afflicting reflections on my past frames and conduct. Of late I have thought much of having the kingdom of Christ advanced in the world; but now I had enough to do within myself. The Lord be merciful to me a sinner, and wash my soul! "Saturday, April 9. Remained much in the same state as yesterday; excepting that the sense of my vileness was not so quick and acute. "Lord's day, April 10. Rose early in the morning, and walked out, and spent a considerable time in the woods, in prayer and meditation. Preached to the Indians, both forenoon and afternoon. They behaved soberly in general: two or three in particular appeared under some religious concern; with whom I discoursed privately; and one told me, her heart had cried, ever since she heard me preach first.'" The next day, he complains of much desertion. "Tuesday, April 12. Was greatly oppressed with grief and shame, reflecting on my past conduct, my bitterness and party zeal. I was ashamed to think that such a wretch as I had ever preached. Longed to be excused from that work. And when my soul was not in anguish and keen distress, I felt senseless as a beast before God,' and felt a kind of guilty amusement with the least trifles; which still maintained a kind of stifled horror of conscience, so that I could not rest any more than a condemned malefactor. "Wednesday, April 13. My heart was overwhelmed within me: I verily thought I was the meanest, vilest, most helpless, guilty, ignorant, benighted creature living. And yet I knew what God had done for my soul, at the same time: though sometimes I was assaulted with damping doubts and fears, whether it was possible for such a wretch as I to be in a state of grace. "Thursday, April 14. Remained much in the same state as yesterday. "Friday, April 15. In the forenoon, very disconsolate. In the afternoon, preached to my people, and was a little encouraged in some hopes that God might bestow mercy on their souls. Felt somewhat resigned to God under all dispensations of his providence. "Saturday, April 16. Still in the depths of distress. In the afternoon, preached to my people; but was more discouraged with them than before; feared that nothing would ever be done for them to any happy effect. I retired and poured out my soul to God for mercy; but without any sensible relief. Soon after came an Irishman and a Dutchman, with a design, as they said, to hear me preach the next day; but none can tell how I felt, to hear their profane talk. Oh, I longed that some dear Christian knew my distress. I got into a kind of hovel, and there groaned out my complaint to God; and withal felt more sensible gratitude and thankfulness to God, that he had made me to differ from these men, as I knew through grace he had. "Lord's day, April 17. In the morning was again distressed as soon as I waked, hearing much talk about the world and the things of it. I perceived the men were in some measure afraid of me; and I discoursed something about sanctifying the sabbath, if possible to solemnize their minds: but when they were at a little distance, they again talked freely about secular affairs. Oh, I thought what a hell it would be, to live with such men to eternity! The Lord gave me some assistance in preaching, all day, and some resignation, and a small degree of comfort in prayer at night." He continued in this disconsolate frame the next day. "Tuesday, April 19. In the morning I enjoyed some sweet repose and rest in God; felt some strength and confidence in him; and my soul was in some measure refreshed and comforted. Spent most of the day in writing, and had some exercise of grace, sensible and comfortable. My soul seemed lifted above the deep waters, wherein it has been so long almost drowned; felt some spiritual longings and breathings of soul after God; and found myself engaged for the advancement of Christ's kingdom in my own soul. "Wednesday, April 20. Set apart this day for fasting and prayer, to bow my soul before God for the bestowment of divine grace; especially that all my spiritual afflictions and inward distresses might be sanctified to my soul. And endeavoured also to remember the goodness of God to me the year past, this day being my birth-day. Having obtained help of God, I have hitherto lived, and am now arrived at the age of twenty-five years. My soul was pained to think of my barrenness and deadness; that I have lived so little to the glory of the eternal God. I spent the day in the woods alone, and there poured out my complaint to God; O that God would enable me to live to his glory for the future! "Thursday, April 21. Spent the forenoon in reading and prayer, and found myself engaged; but still much depressed in spirit under a sense of my vileness and unfitness for any public service. In the afternoon, I visited my people, and prayed and conversed with some about their souls' concerns; and afterwards found some ardour of soul in secret prayer. O that I might grow up into the likeness of God! "Friday, April 22. Spent the day in study, reading, and prayer; and felt a little relieved of my burden, that has been so heavy of late. But still was in some measure oppressed; and had a sense of barrenness. Oh, my leanness testifies against me! my very soul abhors itself for its unlikeness to God, its inactivity and sluggishness. When I have done all, alas, what an unprofitable servant am I! My soul groans, to see the hours of the day roll away, because I do not fill them in spirituality and heavenly mindedness. And yet I long they should speed their pace, to hasten me to my eternal home, where I may fill up all my moments, through eternity, for God and his glory." On Saturday and Lords day, his melancholy again prevailed; he complained of his ignorance, stupidity, and senselessness; while yet he seems to have spent the time with the utmost diligence, in study, in prayer, in instructing and counselling the Indians. On Monday he sunk into the deepest melancholy; so that he supposed he never spent a day in such distress in his life; not in fears of hell, (which, he says, he had no pressing fear of,) but a distressing sense of his own vileness, &c. On Tuesday, he expresses some relief. Wednesday he kept as a day of fasting and prayer, but in great distress. The three days next following his melancholy continued, but in a less degree, and with intervals of comfort. [366] "Lord's day, May 1. Was at Stockbridge to-day. In the forenoon had some relief and assistance; though not so much as usual. In the afternoon felt poorly in body and soul; while I was preaching, seemed to be rehearsing idle tales, without the least life, fervour, sense, or comfort; and especially afterwards, at the sacrament, my soul was filled with confusion, and the utmost anguish that ever I endured, under the feeling of my inexpressible vileness and meanness. It was a most bitter and distressing season to me, by reason of the view I had of my own heart, and the secret abominations that lurk there: I thought the eyes of all in the house were upon me, and I dared not look any one in the face; for it verily seemed as if they saw the vileness of my heart, and all the sins I had ever been guilty of. And if I had been banished from the presence of all mankind, never to be seen any more, or so much as thought of, still I should have been distressed with shame; and I should have been ashamed to see the most barbarous people on earth, because I was viler, and seemingly more brutishly ignorant, than they. I am made to possess the sins of my youth.'" The remaining days of this week were spent, for the most part, in inward distress and gloominess. The next sabbath, he had encouragement, assistance, and comfort; but on Monday sunk again. "Tuesday, May 10. Was in the same state, as to my mind, that I have been in for some time; extremely pressed with a sense of guilt, pollution, and blindness: The iniquity of my heels have compassed me about; the sins of my youth have been set in order before me; they have gone over my head, as a heavy burden, too heavy for me to bear.' Almost all the actions of my life past seem to be covered over with sin and guilt; and those of them that I performed in the most conscientious manner, now fill me with shame and confusion, that I cannot hold up my face. Oh! the pride, selfishness, hypocrisy, ignorance, bitterness, party-zeal, and the want of love, candour, meekness, and gentleness, that have attended my attempts to promote religion and virtue; and this when I have reason to hope I had real assistance from above, and some sweet intercourse with heaven! But, alas, what corrupt mixtures attended my best duties!" The next seven days his gloom and distress continued for the most part, but he had some turns of relief and spiritual comfort. He gives an account of his spending part of this time in hard labour, to build himself a little cottage to live in amongst the Indians, in which he might be by himself; having, it seems, hitherto lived with a poor Scotchman, as he observes in the letter just now referred to; and afterwards, before his own house was habitable, lived in a wigwam among the Indians. "Wednesday, May 18. My circumstances are such, that I have no comfort, of any kind, but what I have in God. I live in the most lonesome wilderness; have but one single person to converse with, that can speak English. [367] Most of the talk I hear, is either Highland Scotch or Indian. I have no fellow-Christian to whom I might unbosom myself, or lay open my spiritual sorrows; with whom I might take sweet counsel in conversation about heavenly things, and join in social prayer. I live poorly with regard to the comforts of life: most of my diet consists of boiled corn, hasty-pudding, &c. I lodge on a bundle of straw, my labour is hard and extremely difficult, and I have little appearance of success to comfort me. The Indians have no land to live on but what the Dutch people lay claim to; and these threaten to drive them off. They have no regard to the souls of the poor Indians; and, by what I can learn, they hate me, because I come to preach to them. But that which makes all my difficulties grievous to be borne, is, that God hides his face from me. "Thursday, May 19. Spent most of this day in close studies; but was sometimes so distressed that I could think of nothing but my spiritual blindness, ignorance, pride, and misery. Oh, I have reason to make that prayer, Lord, forgive my sins of youth, and former trespasses.' "Friday, May 20. Was much perplexed some part of the day; but towards night, had some comfortable meditations on Isa. xl. 1. Comfort ye, comfort ye,' &c. and enjoyed some sweetness in prayer. Afterwards my soul rose so far above the deep waters, that I dared to rejoice in God. I saw there was sufficient matter of consolation in the blessed God." The next nine days his burdens were for the most part alleviated, but with variety; at some times having considerable consolation; and at others, more depressed. The next day, Monday, May 30, he set out on a journey to New Jersey, to consult the commissioners who employed him about the affairs of his mission. [368] He performed his journey thither in four days; and arrived at Mr. Burr's in Newark on Thursday. In great part of his journey, he was in the depths of melancholy, under distresses like those already mentioned. On Friday he rode to Elizabeth-town: and on Saturday to New York; and from thence on his way homewards as far as White Plains. There he spent the sabbath, and had considerable degrees of divine consolation and assistance in public services. On Monday he rode about sixty miles to New-Haven. There he attempted a reconciliation with the authority of the college; and spent this week in visiting his friends in those parts, and in his journey homewards, till Saturday, in a pretty comfortable frame of mind. On Saturday, in his way from Stockbridge to Kaunaumeek, he was lost in the woods, and lay all night in the open air; but happily found his way in the morning, and came to his Indians on Lord's day, June 12, and had greater assistance in preaching among them than ever before, since his first coming among them. From this time forward he was the subject of various frames and exercises of mind: in the general, much after the same manner as hitherto, from his first coming to Kaunaumeek till he got into his own house, (a little hut, which he made chiefly with his own hands, by long and hard labour,) which was near seven weeks from this time. Great part of this space of time, he was dejected, and depressed with melancholy, sometimes extremely; his melancholy operating in like manner as related in times past. How it was with him in those dark seasons, he himself further describes in his diary for July 2, in the following manner. "My soul is, and has for a long time been, in a piteous condition, wading through a series of sorrows, of various kinds. I have been so crushed down sometimes with a sense of my meanness and infinite unworthiness, that I have been ashamed that any, even the meanest of my fellow-creatures, should so much as spend a thought about me; and have wished sometimes, while travelling among the thick brakes, to drop, as one of them, into everlasting oblivion. In this case, sometimes, I have almost resolved never again to see any of my acquaintance; and really thought I could not do it and hold up my face; and have longed for the remotest region, for a retreat from all my friends, that I might not be seen or heard of any more. Sometimes the consideration of my ignorance has been a means of my great distress and anxiety. And especially my soul has been in anguish with fear, shame, and guilt, that ever I had preached, or had any thought that way. Sometimes my soul has been in distress on feeling some particular corruptions rise and swell like a mighty torrent, with present violence; having, at the same time, ten thousand former sins and follies presented to view, in all their blackness and aggravations. And these, while destitute of most of the conveniencies of life, and I may say, of all the pleasures of it; without a friend to communicate any of my sorrows to, and sometimes without any place of retirement, where I may unburden my soul before God, which has greatly contributed to my distress. Of late, more especially, my great difficulty has been a sort of carelessness, a kind of regardless temper of mind, whence I have been disposed to indolence and trifling: and this temper of mind has constantly been attended with guilt and shame; so that sometimes I have been in a kind of horror, to find myself so unlike the blessed God. I have thought I grew worse under all my trials; and nothing has cut and wounded my soul more than this. Oh, if I am one of God's chosen, as I trust through infinite grace I am, I find of a truth, that the righteous are scarcely saved." It is apparent, that one main occasion of that distressing gloominess of mind which he was so much exercised with at Kaunaumeek, was reflection on his past errors and misguided zeal at college, in the beginning of the late religious commotions. And therefore he repeated his endeavours this year for reconciliation with the governors of the college, whom he had at that time offended. Although he had been at New haven, in.June, this year, and attempted a reconciliation, as mentioned already; yet, in the beginning of July, he made another journey thither, and renewed his attempt, but still in vain. Although he was much dejected great part of that space of time which I am now speaking of; yet he had many intermissions of his melancholy, and some seasons of comfort, sweet tranquillity, and resignation of mind, and frequent special assistance in public services, as appear in his diary. The manner of his relief from his sorrow, once in particular, is worthy to be mentioned in his own words, (diary for July 25.) "Had little or no resolution for a life of holiness; was ready almost to renounce my hopes of living to God. And oh how dark it looked, to think of being unholy for ever! This I could not endure. The cry of my soul was, Psal. lxv. 3. Iniquities prevail against me.' But was in some measure relieved by a comfortable meditation on God's eternity, that he never had a beginning, &c. Whence I was led to admire his greatness and power, &c. in such a manner, that I stood still, and praised the Lord for his own glories and perfections; though I was (and if I should for ever be) an unholy creature, my soul was comforted to apprehend an eternal, infinite, powerful, holy God. "Saturday, July 30. Just at night, moved into my own house, and lodged there that night; found it much better spending the time alone, than in the wigwam where I was before. "Lord's day, July 31. Felt more comfortably than some days past. Blessed be the Lord, who has now given me a place of retirement. O that I might find God in it, and that he would dwell with me for ever! "Monday, Aug. 1. Was still busy in further labours on my house. Felt a little of the sweetness of religion, and thought it was worth the while to follow after God through a thousand snares, deserts, and death itself. O that I might always follow after holiness, that I may be fully conformed to God! Had some degree of sweetness, in secret prayer, though I had much sorrow. "Tuesday, Aug. 2. Was still labouring to make myself more comfortable, with regard to my house and lodging. Laboured under spiritual anxiety; it seemed to me, I deserved to be kicked out of the world; yet found some comfort in committing my cause to God. It is good for me to be afflicted, that I may die wholly to this world, and all that is in it. "Wednesday, Aug. 3. Spent most of the day in writing. Enjoyed some sense of religion. Through divine goodness I am now uninterruptedly alone; and find my retirement comfortable. I have enjoyed more sense of divine things within a few days last past, than for some time before. I longed after holiness, humility, and meekness: O that God would enable me to pass the time of my sojourning here in his fear,' and always live to him! "Thursday, Aug. 4. Was enabled to pray much, through the whole day; and through divine goodness found some intenseness of soul in the duty, as I used to do, and some ability to persevere in my supplications. I had some apprehensions of divine things, that were engaging, and which afforded me some courage and resolution. It is good, I find, to persevere in attempts to pray, if I cannot pray with perseverance, i. e. continue long in my addresses to the Divine Being. I have generally found, that the more I do in secret prayer, the more I heave delighted to do, and have enjoyed more of a spirit of prayer: and frequently have found the contrary, when with journeying or otherwise I have been much deprived of retirement. A seasonable, steady performance of secret duties in their proper hours, and a careful improvement of all time, filling up every hour with some profitable labour, either of heart, head, or hands, are excellent means of spiritual peace and boldness before God. Christ, indeed, is our peace, and by him we have boldness of access to God; but a good conscience void of offence, is an excellent preparation for an approach into the divine presence. There is difference between self-confidence or a self-righteous pleasing of ourselves as with our own duties, attainments, and spiritual enjoyments which godly souls sometimes are guilty of, and that holy confidence arising from the testimony of a good conscience, which good Hezekiah had, when he says, "Remember, O Lord, I beseech thee, how I have walked before thee in truth, and with a perfect heart.' [369] 'Then (says the holy psalmist) shall I not be ashamed, when I have respect to all thy commandments.' Filling up our time with and for God, is the way to rise up and lie down in peace." The next eight days he continued for the most part in a very comfortable frame, having his mind fixed and sweetly engaged in religion; and more than once blesses God, that he had given him a little cottage, where he might live alone, and enjoy a happy retirement, free from noise and disturbance, and could at any hour of the day lay aside all studies, and spend time in lifting up his soul to God for spiritual blessings. "Saturday, Aug. 13. Was enabled in secret prayer to raise my soul to God, with desire and delight. It was indeed a blessed season to my soul: I found the comfort of being a Christian; and counted the sufferings of the present lift not worthy to be compared with the glory of divine enjoyments even in this world. All my past sorrows seemed kindly to disappear, and I remembered no more the sorrow, for joy.' O, how kindly, and with a filial tenderness, the soul confides in the Rock of ages, at such a season, that he will never leave it, nor forsake it,' that he will cause all things to work together for its good!' &c. I longed that others should know how good a God the Lord is. My soul was full of tenderness and love, even to the most inveterate of my enemies. I longed they should share in the same mercy; and loved that God should do just as he pleased with me and every thing else. I felt exceeding serious, calm, and peaceful, and encouraged to press after holiness as long as I live, whatever difficulties and trials may be in my way. May the Lord always help me so to do! Amen, and Amen. "Lord's day, Aug. 14. I had much more freedom in public than in private. God enabled me to speak with some feeling sense of divine things; but perceived no considerable effect. "Monday, Aug. 15. Spent most of the day in labour, to procure something to keep my horse on in the winter. Enjoyed not much sweetness in the morning: was very weak in body through the day, and thought this flail body would soon drop into the dust: had some very realizing apprehensions of a speedy entrance into another world. And in this weak state of body, I was not a little distressed for want of suitable food. I had no bread, nor could I get any. I am forced to go or send ten or fifteen miles for all the bread I eat; and sometimes it is mouldy and sour before I eat it, if I get any considerable quantity. Aced then again I have none for sortie days together, for want of an opportunity to send for it, and cannot find my horse in the woods to go myself; and this was my case now: but through divine goodness I had some Indian meal, of which I made little cakes, and fried them. Yet felt contented with my circumstances, and sweetly resigned to God. In prayer I enjoyed great freedom; and blessed God as much for my present circumstances, as if I had been a king; and thought I found a disposition to be contented in any circumstances. Blessed be God." The rest of this week he was exceeding weak in body, and much exercised with pain; yet obliged from day to day to labour hard, to procure fodder for his horse. Except some part of the time, he was so very ill, that he was neither able to work nor study; but speaks of longings after holiness and perfect conformity to God. He complains of enjoying but little of God; yet he says, that little was better to him than all the world besides. In his diary for Saturday, he says, he was somewhat melancholy and sorrowful in mind; and adds, "I never feel comfortably, but when I find my soul going forth after God: if I cannot be holy, I must necessarily be miserable for ever." "Lord's day, Aug. 21. Was much straitened in the forenoon-exercise; my thoughts seemed to be all scattered to the ends of the earth. At noon, I fell down before the Lord, groaned under my vileness, barrenness, aced deadness; and felt as if I was guilty of soul-murder, in speaking to immortal souls in such a mariner as I had then done. In the afternoon, God was pleased to give me some assistance, and I was enabled to set before my hearers the nature and necessity of true repentance, &c. Afterwards, had some small degree of thankfulness. Was very ill and full of pain in the evening; and my soul mourned that I had spent so much time to so little profit. "Monday, Aug. 22. Spent most of the day in study; and found my bodily strength in a measure restored. Had some intense and passionate breathings of soul after holiness, and very clear manifestations of my utter inability to procure, or work it in myself; it is wholly owing to the power of God. O, with what tenderness the love and desire of holiness fills the soul! I wanted to wing out of myself to God, or rather to get a conformity to him: but, alas! I cannot add to my stature in grace one cubit. However, my soul can never leave striving for it; or at least groaning that it cannot strive for it, and obtain more purity of heart. At night I spent some time in instructing my poor people. Oh that God would pity their souls! "Tuesday, Aug. 23. Studied in the forenoon, and enjoyed some freedom. In the afternoon, laboured abroad: endeavoured to pray; but found not much sweetness or intenseness of mind. Towards night, was very weary, and tired of this world of sorrow: the thoughts of death and immortality appeared very desirable, and even refreshed my soul. Those lines turned in my mind with pleasure, 'Come, death, shake hands, I'll kiss thy bands:Tis happiness for me to die.What! dost thou think that I will shrink?I'll go to immortality.' In evening prayer God was pleased to draw near my soul, though very sinful and unworthy: was enabled to wrestle with God, and to persevere in my requests for grace. I poured out my soul for all the world, friends, and enemies. My soul was concerned, not so much for souls as such, but rather for Christ's kingdom, that it might appear in the world, that God might be known to be God in the whole earth. And, oh, my soul abhorred the very thought of a party in religion! Let the truth of God appear, wherever it is; and God have the glory for ever. Amen. This was indeed a comfortable season. I thought I had some small taste of, and real relish for, the enjoyments and employments of the upper world. O that my soul was more attempered to it! "Wednesday, Aug. 24. Spent some time in the morning in study and prayer. Afterwards was engaged in some necessary business abroad. Towards night, found a little time for some particular studies. I thought if God should say, Cease making any provision for this life, for you shall in a few days go out of time into eternity,' my soul would leap for joy. O that I may both desire to be dissolved, to be with Christ,' and likewise wait patiently all the days of my appointed time till my change come!' But, alas! I am very unfit for the business and blessedness of heaven. O for more holiness! "Thursday, Aug. 25. Part of the day, was engaged in studies; and part in labour abroad. I find it is impossible to enjoy peace and tranquillity of mind without a careful improvement of time. This is really an imitation of God and Christ Jesus:My Father worketh hitherto, and I work, [370] ' says our Lord. But still, if we would be like God we must see that we fill up our time for him. I daily long to dwell in perfect light and love. In the mean time, my soul mourns that I make so little progress in grace, and preparation for the world of blessedness: I see and know that I am a very barren tree in God's vineyard, and that he might justly say, Cut it down,' &c. O that God would make me more lively and vigorous in grace, for his own glory! Amen." The two next days he was much engaged in some necessary labours, in which he extremely spent himself. He seems these days to have had a great sense of the vanity of the world, continued longings after holiness, and more fervency of spirit in the service of God. "Lord's day, Aug. 28. Was much perplexed with some irreligious Dutchmen. All their discourse turned upon the things of the world; which was no small exercise to my mind. Oh, what a hell it would be to spend an eternity with such men! Well might David say, I beheld the transgressors, and was grieved. [371] ' But adored be God, heaven is a place into which no unclean thing enters.' Oh, I long for the holiness of that world! Lord, prepare me for it.'" The next day he set out on a journey to New York. Was somewhat dejected the two first days of his journey; but yet seems to have enjoyed some degrees of the sensible presence of God. "Wednesday, Aug. 31. Rode down to Bethlehem: was in a sweet, serious, and, I hope, Christian frame, when I came there. Eternal things engrossed all my thoughts; and I longed to be in the world of spirits. O how happy is it to have all our thoughts swallowed up in that world; to feel one's self a serious considerate stranger in this world, diligently seeking a road through it, the best, the sure road to the heavenly Jerusalem! "Thursday, Sept. 1. Rode to Danbury. Was more dull and dejected in spirit than yesterday. Indeed, I always feel comfortably when God realizes death, and the things of this world, to my mind: whenever my mind is taken off from the things of this world, and set on God, my soul is then at rest." He went forward on his journey, and came to New York on the next Monday. And after tarrying there two or three days, he set out from the city towards New-Haven, intending to be there at the commencement; and on Friday came to Horse-Neck. In the mean time, he complains much of dulness, and want of fervour in religion: but yet, from time to time, speaks of his enjoying spiritual warmth and sweetness in conversation with Christian friends, assistance in public services, &c. "Saturday, Sept. 10. Rode six miles to Stanwich, and preached to a considerable assembly of people. Had some assistance and freedom, especially towards the close. Endeavoured much afterwards, in private conversation, to establish holiness, humility, meekness, &c. as the essence of true religion; and to moderate some noisy sort of persons, that appeared to me to be acted by unseen spiritual pride. Alas, what extremes men incline to run into! Returned to Horse-Neck, and felt some seriousness and sweet solemnity in the evening. "Lord's day, Sept. 11. In the afternoon I preached from Tit. iii. 8. This is a faithful saying, and these things,' &c. I think God never helped me more in painting true religion, and in detecting clearly, and tenderly discountenancing, false appearances of religion, wild-fire party zeal, spiritual pride, &c. as well as a confident dogmatical spirit, and its spring, viz. ignorance of the heart. In the evening took much pains in private conversation to suppress some confusions, that I perceived were amongst that people. "Monday, Sept. 12. Rode to Mr. Mills's at Ripton. Had some perplexing hours; but was some part of the day very comfortable. It is through great trials,' I see, that we must enter the gates of paradise.' If my soul could but be holy, that God might not be dishonoured, methinks I could bear sorrows. "Tuesday, Sept. 13. Rode to New-Haven. Was sometimes dejected; not in the sweetest frame. Lodged at ****. Had some profitable Christian conversation, &c. I find, though my inward trials were great, and a life of solitude gives them greater advantage to settle, and penetrate to the very inmost recesses of the soul; yet it is better to be alone, than encumbered with noise and tumult. I find it very difficult maintaining any sense of divine things while removing from place to place, diverted with new objects, and filled with care and business. A settled steady business is best adapted to a life of strict religion. Wednesday, Sept. 14. This day I ought to have taken my degree; [372] but God sees fit to deny it me. And though I was greatly afraid of being overwhelmed with perplexity and confusion, when I should see my class-mates take theirs; yet, at the very time, God enabled me with calmness and resignation to say, The will of the Lord be done.' Indeed, through divine goodness, I have scarcely felt my mind so calm, sedate, and comfortable for some time. I have long feared this season, and expected my humility, meekness, patience, and resignation would be much tried: [373] but found much more pleasure and divine comfort than I expected. Felt spiritually, serious, tender, and affectionate in private prayer with a dear Christian friend to-day. "Thursday, Sept. 15. Had some satisfaction in hearing the ministers discourse, &c. It is always a comfort to me, to hear religious and spiritual discourse. O that ministers and people were more spiritual and devoted to God! Towards night, with the advice of Christian friends, I offered the following reflections in writing, to the rector and trustees of the college which are for substance the same that I had freely offered to the rector before, and entreated him to accept that if possible I might cut off all occasion of offence, from those who seek occasion. What I offered, is as follows: "Whereas I have said before several persons, concerning Mr. Whittelsey, one of the tutors of Yale college, that I did not believe he had any more grace than the chair I then leaned upon: I humbly confess, that herein I have sinned against God, and acted contrary to the rules of his word, and have injured Mr. Whittelsey. I had no right to make thus free with his character; and had no just reason to say as I did concerning him. My fault herein was the more aggravated, in that I said this concerning one that was so much my superior, and one that I was obliged to treat with special respect and honour, by reason of the relation I stood in to him in the college. Such a manner of behaviour, I confess, did not become a Christian; it was taking too much upon me, and did not savour of that humble respect that I ought to have expressed towards Mr. Whittelsey. I have long since been convinced of the falseness of those apprehensions, by which I then justified such a conduct. I have often reflected on this act with grief; I hope, on account of the sin of it: and am willing to lie low, and be abased before God and man for it. And humbly ask the forgiveness of the governors of the college, and of the whole society; but of Mr. Whittelsey in particular. And whereas I have been accused by one person of saying concerning the reverend rector of Yale college, that I wondered he did not expect to drop down dead for fining the scholars that followed Mr. Tennent to Milford; I seriously profess, that I do not remember my saying any thing to this purpose. But if I did, which I am not certain I did not, I utterly condemn it, and detest all such kind of behaviour; and especially in an undergraduate towards the rector. And I now appear, to judge and condemn myself for going once to the separate meeting in New-Haven, a little before I was expelled, though the rector had refused to give me leave. For this I humbly ask the rector's forgiveness. And whether the governors of the college shall ever see cause to remove the academical censure I lie under, or no, or to admit me to the privileges I desire; yet I am willing to appear, if they think fit, openly to own, and to humble myself for, those things I have herein confessed." "God has made me willing to do any thing that I can do, consistent with truth, for the sake of peace, and that I might not be a stumbling-block to others. For this reason I can cheerfully forego, and give up, what I verily believe, after the most mature and impartial search, is my right, in some instances. God has given me that disposition, that, if this were the case, that a man has done me a hundred injuries, and I (though ever so much provoked to it) have done him one, I feel disposed, and heartily willing, humbly to confess my fault to him, and on my knees to ask forgiveness of him; though at the same time he should justify himself in all the injuries he has done me, and should only make use of my humble confession to blacken my character the more, and represent me as the only person guilty, &c. yea, though he should as it were insult me, and say, he knew all this before, and that I was making work for repentance,' &c. Though what I said concerning Mr. Whittelsey was only spoken in private, to a friend or two; and being partly overheard, was related to the rector, and by him extorted from my friends; yet, seeing it was divulged acid made public, I was willing to confess my fault therein publicly. But I trust God will plead my cause." [374] The next day he went to Derby; then to Southbury, where he spent the sabbath: and speaks of some spiritual comfort; but complains much of unfixedness, and wanderings of mind in religion. "Monday, Sept. 19. In the afternoon rode to Bethlehem, and there preached. Had some measure of assistance, both in prayer and preaching. I felt serious, kind, and tender towards all mankind, and longed that holiness might flourish more on earth. "Tuesday, Sept. 20. Had thoughts of going forward on my journey to my Indians; but towards night was taken with a hard pain in my teeth, and shivering cold; and could not possibly recover a comfortable degree of warmth the whole night following. I continued very full of pain all night; and in the morning had a very hard fever, and pains almost over my whole body. I had a sense of the divine goodness in appointing this to be the place of my sickness, viz. among my friends, who were very kind to me. I should probably have perished, if I had first got home to my own house in the wilderness, where I have none to converse with but the poor, rude, ignorant Indians. Here I saw was mercy in the midst of affliction. I continued thus, mostly confined to my bed, till Friday night; very full of pain most of the time; but through divine goodness not afraid of death. Then the extreme folly of those appeared to me, who put off their turning to God till a sick-bed. Surely this is not a time proper to prepare for eternity. On Friday evening my pains went off somewhat suddenly, I was exceeding weak, and almost fainted; but was very comfortable the night following. These words, Psal. cxviii. 17. I shall not die, but live,' &c. I frequently revolved in my mind; and thought we were to prize the continuation of life only on this account, that we may show forth God's goodness and works of grace.'" From this time he gradually recovered; and on the next Tuesday was so well as to be able to go forward on his journey homewards; but it was not till the Tuesday following that he reached Kaunaumeek. And seems, great part of this time, to have had a very deep and lively sense of the vanity and emptiness of all things here below, and of the reality, nearness, and vast importance of eternal things. "Tuesday, Oct. 4. This day rode home to my own house and people. The poor Indians appeared very glad of my return. Found my house and all things in safety. I presently fell on my knees, and blessed God for my safe return, after a long and tedious journey, and a season of sickness in several places where I had been, and after I had been ill myself. God has renewed his kindness to me, in preserving me one journey more. I have taken many considerable journeys since this time last year, and yet God has never suffered one of my bones to be broken, or any distressing calamity to befall me, excepting the ill turn I had in my last journey. I have been often exposed to cold and hunger in the wilderness, where the comforts of life were not to be had; have frequently been lost in the woods; and sometimes obliged to ride much of the night; and once lay out in the woods all night; yet, blessed be God, he has preserved me!" In his diary for the next eleven days, are great complaints of distance from God, spiritual pride, corruption, and exceeding vileness. He once says, his heart was so pressed with a sense of his pollution, that he could scarcely have the face and impudence (as it then appeared to him) to desire that God should not damn him for ever. And at another time, he says, he had so little sense of God, or apprehension and relish of his glory and excellency, that it made him more disposed to kindness and tenderness towards those who are blind and ignorant of God and things divine and heavenly. "Lords day, Oct. 16. In the evening, God was pleased to give me a feeling sense of my own unworthiness; but through divine goodness such as tended to draw me to, rather than drive me from, God: it filled me with solemnity. I retired alone, (having at this time a friend with me,) and poured out my soul to God with much freedom; and yet in anguish, to find myself so unspeakably sinful and unworthy before a holy God. Was now much resigned under God's dispensations towards me, though my trials had been very great. But thought whether I could be resigned, if God should let the French Indians come upon me, and deprive me of life, or carry me away captive, (though I knew of no special reason then to propose this trial to myself, more than any other,) and my soul seemed so far to rest and acquiesce in God, that the sting and terror of these things seemed in a great measure gone. Presently after I came to the Indians, whom I was teaching to sing psalm-tunes that evening, I received the following letter from Stockbridge, by a messenger sent on the sabbath on purpose, which made it appear of greater importance. 'Sir, Just now we received advices from Col. Stoddard, that there is the utmost danger of a rupture with France. He has received the same from his excellency our governor, ordering him to give notice to all the exposed places, that they may secure themselves the best they can against any sudden invasion. We thought best to send directly to Kaunaumeek, that you may take the prudentest measures for your safety that dwell there. I am, Sir, &c.' "I thought, upon reading the contents, it came in a good season; for my heart seemed fixed on God, and therefore I was not much surprised. This news only made me more serious, and taught me that I must not please myself with any of the comforts of life which I had been preparing. Blessed be God, who gave me any intenseness and fervency this evening! "Monday, Oct. 17. Had some rising hopes, that God would arise and have mercy on Zion speedily.' My heart is indeed refreshed, when I have any prevailing hopes of Zion's prosperity. O that I may see the glorious day, when Zion shall become the joy of the whole earth! Truly there is nothing that I greatly value in this lower world." On Tuesday he rode to Stockbridge; complains of being much diverted, and having but little life. On Wednesday he expresses some solemn sense of divine things, and longing to be always doing for God with a godly frame of spirit. "Thursday, Oct. 20. Had but little sense of divine things this day. Alas, that so much of my precious time is spent with so little of God! Those are tedious days, wherein I have no spirituality. "Friday, Oct. 21. Returned home to Kaunaumeek: was glad to get alone in my little cottage, and to cry to that God who seeth in secret, and is present in a wilderness. "Saturday, Oct. 22. Had but little sensible communion with God. This world is a dark, cloudy mansion. Oh, when will the Sun of righteousness shine on my soul without intermission! "Lord's day, Oct. 23. In the morning I had a little dawn of comfort arising from hopes of seeing glorious days in the church of God: was enabled to pray for such a glorious day with some courage and strength of hope. In the forenoon treated on the glories of heaven, &c. In the afternoon, on the miseries of hell, and the danger of going there. Had some freedom and warmth, both parts of the day. And my people were very attentive. In the evening two or three came to me under concern for their souls; to whom I was enabled to discourse closely, and with some earnestness and desire. O that God would be merciful to their poor souls!" He seems, through the whole of this week, to have been greatly engaged to fill up every inch of time in the service of God, and to have been most diligently employed in study, prayer, and instructing the Indians; and from time to time expresses longings of soul after God, and the advancement of his kingdom, and spiritual comfort and refreshment. "Lord's day, Oct. 30. In the morning I enjoyed some fixedness of soul in prayer, which was indeed sweet and desirable; was enabled to leave myself with God, and to acquiesce in him. At noon my soul was refreshed with reading Rev. iii. more especially the Rev. iii. 11, 12. 11th and 12th verses. Oh, my soul longed for that blessed day, when I should dwell in the temple of God,' and go no more out' of his immediate presence! "Monday, Oct. 31. Rode to Kinderhook, about fifteen miles from my place. While riding I felt some divine sweetness in the thoughts of being [375] a pillar in the temple of God' in the upper world, and being no more deprived of his blessed presence, and the sense of his favour, which is better than life. My soul was so lifted up to God, that I could pour out my desires to him, for more grace and further degrees of sanctification, with abundant freedom. Oh, I longed to be more abundantly prepared for that blessedness, with which I was then in some measure refreshed! Returned home in the evening; but took an extremely bad cold by riding in the night. "Tuesday, Nov. 1. Was very much disordered in body, and sometimes full of pain in my face and teeth; was not able to study much, and had not much spiritual comfort. Alas! when God is withdrawn, all is gone. Had some sweet thoughts, which I could not but write down, on the design, nature, and end of Christianity. "Wednesday, Nov. 2. Was still more indisposed in body, and in much pain most of the day. I had not much comfort; was scarcely able to study at all; and still entirely alone in the wilderness. But blessed be the Lord, I am not exposed in the open air; I have a house, and many of the comforts of life to support me. I have learned in a measure, that all good things relating both to time and eternity come from God. In the evening I had some degree of quickening in prayer: I think God gave me some sense of his presence. "Thursday, Nov. 3. Spent this day in secret fasting and prayer, from morning till night. Early in the morning I had some small degree of assistance in prayer. Afterwards read the story of Elijah the prophet, 1 Kings. xvii. xviii. chapters, and also 2 Kings. ii. and iv. chapters. My soul was much moved, observing the faith, zeal, and power of that holy man; how he wrestled with God in prayer, &c. My soul then cried with Elisha, [376] Where is the Lord God of Elijah!' Oh, I longed for more faith! My soul breathed after God, and pleaded with him, that a double portion of that spirit,' which was given to Elijah, might rest on me.' And that which was divinely refreshing and strengthening to my soul was, I saw that God is the same that he was in the days of Elijah. Was enabled to wrestle with God by prayer, in a more affectionate, fervent, humble, intense, and importunate manner, than I have for many months past. Nothing seemed too hard for God to perform; nothing too great for me to hope for from him. I had for many months entirely lost all hopes of being made instrumental of doing any special service for God in the world; it has appeared entirely impossible, that one so black and vile should be thus employed for God. But at this time God was pleased to revive this hope. Afterwards read the 3rd chapter of Exodus and on to the 20th, and saw more of the glory and majesty of God discovered in those chapters, than ever I had seen before; frequently in the mean time falling on my knees, and crying to God for the faith of Moses, and for a manifestation of the divine glory. Especially the 3rd and 4th, and part of the 14th and 15th chapters, were unspeakably sweet to my soul: my soul blessed God, that he had shown himself so gracious to his servants of old. The 15th chapter seemed to be the very language which my soul uttered to God in the season of my first spiritual comfort, when I had just got through the Red sea, by a way that I had no expectation of. O how my soul then rejoiced in God! And now those things came fresh and lively to my mind; now my soul blessed God afresh, that he had opened that unthought-of way to deliver me from the fear of the Egyptians, when I almost despaired of life. Afterwards read the story of Abraham's pilgrimage in the land of Canaan: my soul was melted, in observing his faith, bow he leaned on God; how he communed with God, and what a stranger he was here in the world. After that, read the story of Joseph's sufferings, and God's goodness to him: blessed God for these examples of faith and patience. My soul was ardent in prayer, was enabled to wrestle ardently for myself, for Christian friends, and for the church of God. And felt more desire to see the power of God in the conversion of souls, than I have done for a long season. Blessed be God for this season of fasting and prayer! May his goodness always abide with me, and draw my soul to him! "Thursday, Nov. 4. Rode to Kinderhook: went quite to Hudson's river, about twenty miles from my house; performed some business, and returned home in the evening to my own house. I had rather ride hard and fatigue myself, to get home, than to spend the evening and night amongst those who have no regard for God." The two next days he was very ill, and full of pain, probably through his riding in the night after a fatiguing day's journey on Thursday; but yet seems to have been diligent in business. "Monday, Nov. 7. This morning the Lord afforded me some special assistance in prayer; my mind was solemn, fixed, affectionate, and ardent in desires after holiness; felt full of tenderness and love; and my affections seemed to be dissolved into kindness. In the evening I enjoyed the same comfortable assistance in prayer as in the morning: my soul longed after God, and cried to him with a filial freedom, reverence, and boldness. O that I might be entirely consecrated and devoted to God." The two next days he complains of bodily illness and pain; but much more of spiritual barrenness and unprofitableness. "Thursday, Nov. 10. Spent this day in fasting and prayer alone. In the morning was very dull and lifeless, melancholy and discouraged. But after some time, while reading 2 Kings xix. my soul was moved and affected; especially reading verse 14, and onward. I saw there was no other way for the afflicted children of God to take, but to go to God with all their sorrows. Hezekiah, in his great distress, went and spread his complaint before the Lord. I was then enabled to see the mighty power of God, and my extreme need of that power; was enabled to cry to him affectionately and ardently for his power and grace to be exercised towards me. Afterwards read the story of David's trials, and observed the course he took under them, how he strengthened his hands in God; whereby my soul was carried out after God, enabled to cry to him, and rely upon him, and felt strong in the Lord. Was afterwards refreshed, observing the blessed temper that was wrought in David by his trials: all bitterness and desire of revenge seemed wholly taken away; so that he mourned for the death of his enemies; 2 Sam. i. 17. and iv. 9, ad fin. Was enabled to bless God, that he had given me something of this divine temper, that my soul freely, forgives and heartily loves my enemies." It appears by his diary for the remaining part of this week, and for the two following weeks, that great part of the time he was very ill, and full of pain; and yet obliged, through his circumstances, in this ill state of body, to be at great fatigues, in labour, and travelling day and night, and to expose himself in stormy and severe seasons. He from time to time, within this space, speaks of outgoings of soul after God; his heart strengthened in God; seasons of divine sweetness and comfort; his heart affected with gratitude for mercies, &c. And yet there are many complaints of lifelessness, weakness of grace, distance from God, and great unprofitableness. But still there appear a constant care from day to day, not to lose time, but to improve it all for God. "Lord's day, Nov. 27. In the evening I was greatly affected in reading an account of the very joyful death of a pious gentleman; which seemed to invigorate my soul in God's ways. I felt courageously engaged to pursue a life of holiness and self-denial as long as I live; and poured out my soul to God for his help and assistance in order thereto. Eternity then seemed near, and my soul rejoiced, and longed to meet it. I trust that will be a blessed day that finishes my toil here. "Monday, Nov. 28. In the evening I was obliged to spend time in company and conversation that was unprofitable. Nothing lies heavier upon me, than the misimprovement of time. "Tuesday, Nov. 29. Began to study the Indian tongue with Mr. Sergeant at Stockbridge. [377] Was perplexed for want of more retirement. I love to live alone in my own little cottage, where I can spend much time in prayer, &c. "Wednesday, Nov. 30. Pursued my study of Indian: but was very weak and disordered in body, and was troubled in mind at the barrenness of the day, that I had done so little for God. I had some enlargement in prayer at night. Oh, a barn, or stable, hedge, or any other place, is truly desirable, if God is there! Sometimes, of late, my hopes of Zion's prosperity are more raised than they were in the summer. My soul seems to confide in God, that he will yet show forth his salvation' to his people, and make Zion the joy of the whole earth. O how excellent is the loving-kindness of the Lord!' My soul sometimes inwardly exults at the lively thoughts of what God has already done for his church, and what Luke ii. 30."mine eyes have seen of the salvation of God." It is sweet, to hear nothing but spiritual discourse from God's children; and sinners inquiring the way to Zion,' saying, What shall we do?' &c. O that I may see more of this blessed work! "Thursday, Dec. 1. Both morning and evening I enjoyed some intenseness of soul in prayer, and longed for the enlargement of Christ's kingdom in the world. My soul seems, of late, to wait on God for his blessing on Zion. O that religion might powerfully revive! "Friday, Dec. 2. Enjoyed not so much health of body, or fervour of mind, as yesterday. If the chariot-wheels move with ease and speed at any time, for a short space, yet by and by they drive heavily again. O that I had the wings of a dove, that I might fly away' from sin and corruption, and be at rest in God! "Saturday, Dec. 3. Rode home to my house and people. Suffered much with the extreme cold. I trust I shall ere long arrive safe at my journey's end, where my toils shall cease. Lord's day, Dec. 4. Had but little sense of divine and heavenly things. My soul mourns over my barrenness. Oh how sad is spiritual deadness! "Monday, Dec. 5. Rode to Stockbridge. Was almost outdone with the extreme cold. Had some refreshing meditations by the way; but was barren, wandering, and lifeless, much of the day. Thus my days roll away, with but little done for God; and this is my burden. "Tuesday, Dec. 6. Was perplexed to see the vanity and levity of professed Christians. Spent the evening with a Christian friend, who was able in some measure to sympathize with me in my spiritual conflicts. Was a little refreshed to find one with whom I could converse of inward trials, &c. "Wednesday, Dec. 7. Spent the evening in perplexity, with a kind of guilty indolence. When I have no heart or resolution for God, and the duties incumbent on me, I feel guilty of negligence and misimprovement of time. Certainly I ought to be engaged in my work and business, to the utmost extent of my strength and ability. "Thursday, Dec. 8. My mind was much distracted with different affections. I seemed to be at an amazing distance from God; and looking round in the world, to see if there was not some happiness to be derived from it. God, and certain objects in the world, seemed each to invite my heart and affections; and my soul seemed to be distracted between them. I have not been so much beset with the world for a long time; and that with relation to some particular objects which I thought myself most dead to. But even while I was desiring to please myself with any thing below, guilt, sorrow, and perplexity attended the first motions of desire. Indeed I cannot see the appearance of pleasure and happiness in the world, as I used to do: and blessed be God for any habitual deadness to the world. I found no peace, or deliverance from this distraction and perplexity of mind, till I found access to the throne of grace: and as soon as I had any sense of God, and things divine, the allurements of the world vanished, and my heart was determined for God. But my soul mourned over my folly, that I should desire any pleasure, but only in God. God forgive my spiritual idolatry!" The next thirteen days he appears to have been continually in deep concern about the improvement of precious time; and there are many expressions of grief, that he improved time no better; such as, "Oh, what misery do I feel, when "my thoughts rove after vanity! I should be happy if always engaged for God! O wretched man that I am!" &c. Speaks of his being pained with a sense of his barrenness, perplexed with his wanderings, longing for deliverance from the being of sin, mourning that time passed away, and so little was done for God, &c. On Tuesday, December 20, he speaks of his being visited at Kaunaumeek by some under spiritual concern. "Thursday, Dec. 22. Spent this day alone in fasting and prayer, and reading in God's word the exercises and deliverances of his children. Had, I trust, some exercise of faith, and realizing apprehension of divine power, grace, and holiness; and also of the unchangeableness of God, that he is the same as when he delivered his saints of old out of great tribulation. My soul was sundry times in prayer enlarged for God's church and people. O that Zion might become the joy of the whole earth!' It is better to wait upon God with patience, than to put confidence in any thing in this lower world. My soul, wait thou on the Lord;' for from him comes thy salvation.' "Friday, Dec. 23. Felt a little more courage and resolution in religion, than at some other times. "Saturday, Dec. 24. Had some assistance and longing desires after sanctification in prayer this day; especially in the evening: was sensible of my own weakness and spiritual impotency; saw plainly I should fall into sin, if God of his abundant mercy did not "uphold my soul, and withhold me from evil.' O that God would uphold me by his free Spirit, and save me from the hour of temptation.' "Lord's day, Dec. 25. Prayed much, in the morning, with a feeling sense of my own spiritual weakness and insufficiency for any duty. God gave me some assistance in preaching to the Indians; and especially in the afternoon, when I was enabled to speak with uncommon plainness, freedom, and earnestness. Blessed be God for any assistance granted to one so unworthy. Afterwards felt some thankfulness; but still sensible of barrenness. Spent some time in the evening with one or two persons under spiritual concern, and exhorting others to their duty, &c. "Monday, Dec. 26. Rode down to Stockbridge. Was very much fatigued with my journey, wherein I underwent great hardships: was much exposed and very wet by falling into a river. Spent the day and evening without much sense of divine and heavenly things; but felt guilty, grieved, and perplexed with wandering careless thoughts. "Tuesday, Dec. 27. Had a small degree of warmth in secret prayer, in the evening; but, alas! had but little spiritual life, and consequently but little comfort. Oh, the pressure of a body of death! [378] "Wednesday, Dec. 28. Rode about six miles to the ordination of Mr. Hopkins. At the solemnity I was somewhat affected with a sense of the greatness and importance of the work of a minister of Christ. Afterwards was grieved to see the vanity of the multitude. In the evening spent a little time with some Christian friends, with some degree of satisfaction; but most of the time I had rather have been alone. "Thursday, Dec. 29. Spent the day mainly in conversing with friends; yet enjoyed little satisfaction, because I could find but few disposed to converse of divine and heavenly things. Alas, what are the things of this world, to afford satisfaction to the soul! Near night returned to Stockbridge; in secret, I blessed God for retirement, and that I am not always exposed to the company and conversation of the world. O that I could live in the secret of God's presence!' "Friday, Dec. 30. Was in a solemn devout frame in the evening. Wondered that earth, with all its charms, should ever allure me in the least degree. O that I could always realize the being and holiness of God! "Saturday, Dec. 31. Rode from Stockbridge home to my house: the air was clear and calm, but as cold as ever I felt it, or near. I was in great danger of perishing by the extremity of the season. Was enabled to meditate much on the road. "Lord's day, Jan. 1, 1744. In the morning had some small degree of assistance in prayer. Saw myself so vile and unworthy, that I could not look my people in the face, when I came to preach. Oh, my meanness, folly, ignorance, and inward pollution! In the evening had a little assistance in prayer, so that the duty was delightful, rather than burdensome. Reflected on the goodness of God to me in the past year, &c. Of a truth God has been kind and gracious to me, though he has caused me to pass through many sorrows; he has provided for me bountifully, so that I have been enabled, in about fifteen months past, to bestow to charitable uses about a hundred pounds New England money, that I can now remember. [379] Blessed be the Lord, that has so far used me as his steward, to distribute a portion of his goods. May I always remember, that all I have comes from God. Blessed be the Lord, that has carried me through all the toils, fatigues, and hardships of the year past, as well as the spiritual sorrows and conflicts that have attended it. O that I could begin this year with God, and spend the whole of it to his glory, either in life or death! "Monday, Jan. 2. Had some affecting sense of my own impotency and spiritual weakness. It is nothing but the power of God that keeps me from all manner of wickedness. I see I am nothing, and can do nothing without help from above. Oh, for divine grace! In the evening, had some ardour of soul in prayer, and longing desires to have God for my guide and safeguard at all times. [380] "Tuesday, Jan. 3. Was employed much of the day in writing; and spent some time in other necessary employment. But my time passes away so swiftly, that I am astonished when I reflect on it, and see how little I do. My state of solitude does not make the hours hang heavy upon my hands. O what reason of thankfulness have I on account of this retirement! I find that I do not, and it seems I cannot, lead a Christian life when I am abroad, and cannot spend time in devotion, Christian conversation, and serious meditation, as I should do. Those weeks that I am obliged now to be from home, in order to learn the Indian tongue, are mostly spent in perplexity and barrenness, without much sweet relish of divine things; and I feel myself a stranger at the throne of grace, for want of more frequent and continued retirement. When I return home, and give myself to meditation, prayer, and fasting, a new scene opens to my mind, and my soul longs for mortification, self-denial, humility, and divorcement from all the things of the world. This evening my heart was somewhat warm and fervent in prayer and meditation, so that I was loth to indulge sleep. Continued in those duties till about midnight. "Wednesday, Jan. 4. Was in a resigned and mortified temper of mind, much of the day. Time appeared a moment, life a vapour, and all its enjoyments as empty bubbles, and fleeting blasts of wind. "Thursday, Jan. 5. Had an humbling and pressing sense of my unworthiness. My sense of the badness of my own heart filled my soul with bitterness and anguish; which was ready to sink, as under the weight of a heavy burden. Thus I spent the evening, till late. Was somewhat intense and ardent in prayer. "Friday, Jan. 6. Feeling and considering my extreme weakness, and want of grace, the pollution of my soul, and danger of temptations on every side, I set apart this day for fasting and prayer, neither eating nor drinking from evening to evening, beseeching God to have mercy on me. My soul intensely longed, that the dreadful spots and stains of sin might be washed away from it. Saw something of the power and all-sufficiency of God. My soul seemed to rest on his power and grace; longed for resignation to his will, and mortification to all things here below. My mind was greatly fixed on divine things: my resolutions for a life of mortification, continual watchfulness, self-denial, seriousness, and devotion, were strong and fixed; my desires ardent and intense; my conscience tender, and afraid of every appearance of evil. My soul grieved with reflection on past levity, and want of resolution for God. I solemnly renewed my dedication of myself to God, and longed for grace to enable me always to keep covenant with him. Time appeared very short, eternity near; and great name, either in or after life, together with all earthly pleasures and profits, but an empty bubble, a deluding dream. "Saturday, Jan. 7. Spent this day in seriousness, with stedfast resolutions for God and a life of mortification. Studied closely, till I felt my bodily strength fail. Felt some degree of resignation to God, with an acquiescence in his dispensations. Was grieved that I could do so little for God before my bodily strength failed. In the evening, though tired, was enabled to continue instant in prayer for some time. Spent the time in reading, meditation, and prayer, till the evening was far spent: was grieved to think that I could not watch unto prayer the whole night. But blessed be God, heaven is a place of continual and incessant devotion, though the earth is dull." The six days following he continued in the same happy frame of mind; enjoyed the same composure, calmness, resignation, ardent desire, and sweet fervency of spirit, in a high degree, every day, not one excepted. Thursday, this week, he kept as a day of secret fasting and prayer. "Saturday, Jan. 14. This morning enjoyed a most solemn season in prayer: my soul seemed enlarged, and assisted to pour out itself to God for grace, and for every blessing I wanted, for myself, my dear Christian friends, and for the church of God; and was so enabled to see him who is invisible, that my soul rested upon him for the performance of every thing I asked agreeable to his will. It was then my happiness, to continue instant in prayer,' and was enabled to continue in it for nearly an hour. My soul was then strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might.' Longed exceedingly for angelic holiness and purity, and to have all my thoughts, at all times, employed in divine and heavenly things. O how blessed is a heavenly temper! O how unspeakably blessed it is, to feel a measure of that rectitude, in which we were at first created! Felt the same divine assistance in prayer sundry times in the day. My soul confided in God for myself, and for his Zion; trusted in divine power and grace, that he would do glorious things in his church on earth, for his own glory." The next day he speaks of some glimpses he had of the divine glories, and of his being enabled to maintain his resolutions in some measure; but complains, that he could not draw near to God. He seems to be filled with trembling fears lest he should return to a life of vanity, to please himself with some of the enjoyments of this lower world; and speaks of his being much troubled, and feeling guilty, that he should address immortal souls with no more ardency and desire of their salvation. On Monday he rode down to Stockbridge, when he was distressed with the extreme cold; but notwithstanding, his mind was in a devout and solemn frame in his journey. The four next days he was very ill, probably from the cold in his journey; yet he spent the time in a solemn manner. On Friday evening he visited Mr. Hopkins; and on Saturday rode eighteen miles to Solsbury, where he kept the sabbath, and enjoyed considerable degrees of God's gracious presence, assistance in duty, and divine comfort and refreshment, longing to give himself wholly to God, to be his for ever. "Monday, Jan. 23. I think I never felt more resigned to God, nor so much dead to the world, in every respect, as now; was dead to all desire of reputation and greatness, either in life, or after death; all I longed for, was to be holy, humble, crucified to the world, &c. "Tuesday, Jan. 24. Near noon, rode over to Canaan. In the evening I was unexpectedly visited by a considerable number of people, with whom I was enabled to converse profitably of divine things: took pains to describe the difference between a regular and irregular SELF-LOVE; the one consisting with a supreme love to God, but the other not; the former uniting God's glory and the soul's happiness, that they become one common interest, but the latter disjoining and separating God's glory and man's happiness, seeking the latter with a neglect of the former. Illustrated this by that genuine love that is founded between the sexes; which is diverse from that which is wrought up towards a person only by rational argument, or hope of self-interest. Love is a pleasing passion, it affords pleasure to the mind where it is; but yet, genuine love is not, nor can be placed, upon any object with that design of pleasure itsef." On Wednesday he rode to Sheffield; the next day, to Stockbridge; and on Saturday, home to Kaunaumeek, though the season was cold and stormy: which journey was followed with illness and pain. It appears by this diary, that he spent the time, while riding, in profitable meditations, and in lifting up his heart to God; and he speaks of assistance, comfort, and refreshment; but still complains of barrenness, &c. His diary for the five next days is full of the most heavy, bitter complaints; and he expresses himself as full of shame and self-loathing for his lifeless temper of mind and sluggishness of spirit, and as being in perplexity and extremity, and appearing to himself unspeakably vile and guilty before God, on account of some inward workings of corruption he found in his heart, &c. "Thursday, Feb. 2. Spent this day in fasting and prayer, seeking the presence and assistance of God, that he would enable me to overcome all my corruptions and spiritual enemies. "Friday, Feb. 3. Enjoyed more freedom and comfort than of late; was engaged in meditation upon the different whispers of the various powers and affections of a pious mind, exercised with a great variety of dispensations: and could but write, as well as meditate, on so entertaining a subject. [381] I hope the Lord gave me some true sense of divine things this day: but alas, how great and pressing are the remains of indwelling corruption! I am now more sensible than ever, that God alone is the author and finisher of our faith,' i. e. that the whole, and every part of sanctification, and every good word, work, or thought, found in me, is the effect of his power and grace; that without him I can do nothing,' in the strictest sense, and that he works in us to will and to do of his own good pleasure,' and from no other motive. Oh, how amazing it is that people can talk so much about men's power and goodness; when, if God did not hold us back every moment, we should be devils incarnate! This my bitter experience, for several days last past, has abundantly taught me concerning myself. "Saturday, Feb. 4. Enjoyed some degree of freedom and spiritual refreshment; was enabled to pray with some fervency, and longing desires of Zion's prosperity, and my faith and hope seemed to take hold of God, for the performance of what I was enabled to plead for. Sanctification in myself, and the ingathering of God's elect, was all my desire; and the hope of its accomplishment, all my joy. "Lord's day, Feb. 5. Was enabled in some measure to rest and confide in God, and to prize his presence and some glimpses of the light of his countenance, above my necessary food. Thought myself, after the season of weakness, temptation, and desertion I endured the last week, to be somewhat like Samson, when his locks began to grow again. Was enabled to preach to my people with more life and warmth than I have for some weeks past. "Monday, Feb. 6. This morning my soul again was strengthened in God, and found some sweet repose in him in prayer; longing especially for the complete mortification of sensuality and pride, and for resignation to God's dispensations, at all times, as through grace I felt it at this time. I did not desire deliverance from any difficulty that attends my circumstances, unless God was willing. O how comfortable is this temper! Spent most of the day in reading God's word, in writing, and prayer. Enjoyed repeated and frequent comfort and intenseness of soul in prayer through the day. In the evening spent some hours in private conversation with my people; and afterwards felt some warmth in secret prayer. "Tuesday, Feb. 7. Was much engaged in some sweet meditations on the powers and affections of the godly soul in their pursuit of their beloved object: wrote something of the native language of spiritual sensation, in its soft and tender whispers; declaring, that it now feels and tastes that the Lord is gracious; that he is the supreme good, the only soul-satisfying happiness: that he is a complete, sufficient, and almighty portion: saying, 'Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire besides this blessed portion. O, I feel it is heaven to please him, and to be just what he would have me to be! O that my soul were holy, as he is holy! O that it were pure, even as Christ is pare; and perfect, as my Father in heaven is perfect! These, I feel, are the sweetest commands in God's book, comprising all others. And shall I break them! must I break them! am I under a necessity of it as long as I live in the world! O my soul, woe, woe is me that I am a sinner, because I now necessarily grieve and offend this blessed God, who is infinite in goodness and grace! Oh, methinks, if he would punish me for my sins, it would not wound my heart so deep to offend him: but though I sin continually, yet he continually repeats his kindness to me! Oh, methinks I could bear any sufferings; but how can I bear to grieve and dishonour this blessed God! How shall I yield ten thousand times more honour to him? What shall I do to glorify and worship this best of beings? O that I could consecrate myself, soul and body, to his service for ever! O that I could give up myself to him, so as never more to attempt to be my own, or to have any will or affections that are not perfectly conformed to him! But, alas, alas! I find I cannot be thus entirely devoted to God; I cannot live, and not sin. O ye angels, do ye glorify him incessantly; and if possible, prostrate yourselves lower before the blessed King of heaven? I long to bear a part with you; and, if it were possible, to help you. Oh, when we have done all that we can, to all eternity, we shall not be able to offer the ten thousandth part of the homage that the glorious God deserves!' "Felt something spiritual, devout, resigned, and mortified to the world, much of the day; and especially towards and in the evening. Blessed be God, that he enables me to love him for himself. "Wednesday, Feb. 8. Was in a comfortable frame of soul most of the day; though sensible of, and restless under, spiritual barrenness. I find that both mind and body are quickly tired with intenseness and fervour in the things of God. O that I could be as incessant as angels in devotion and spiritual fervour! "Thursday, Feb. 9. Observed this day as a day of fasting and prayer, entreating of God to bestow upon me his blessing and grace; especially to enable me to live a life of mortification to the world, as well as of resignation and patience. Enjoyed some realizing sense of divine power and goodness in prayer, several times; and was enabled to roll the burden of myself, and friends, and Zion, upon the goodness and grace of God: but, in the general, was more dry and barren than I have usually been of late upon such occasions. "Friday, Feb. 10. Was exceedingly oppressed, most of the day, with shame, grief, and fear, under a sense of my past folly, as well as present barrenness and coldness. When God sets before me my past misconduct, especially any instances of misguided zeal, it sinks my soul into shame and confusion, makes me afraid of a shaking leaf. My fear is such as the prophet Jeremy complains of, Jer xx. 10. I have no confidence to hold up my face, even before my fellow-worms; but only when my soul confides in God, and I find the sweet temper of Christ, the spirit of humility, solemnity, and mortification, and resignation, alive in my soul. But, in the evening, was unexpectedly refreshed in pouring out my complaint to God; my shame and fear was turned into a sweet composure and acquiescence in God. "Saturday, Feb. 11. Felt much as yesterday: enjoyed but little sensible communion with God. "Lord's day, Feb. 12. My soul seemed to confide in God, and to repose itself on him; and had outgoings of soul after God in prayer. Enjoyed some divine assistance, in the forenoon, in preaching; but in the afternoon, was more perplexed with shame, &c. Afterwards, found some relief in prayer; loved, as a feeble, afflicted, despised creature, to cast myself on a God of infinite grace and goodness, hoping for no happiness but from him. "Monday, Feb. 13. Was calm and sedate in morning-devotions; and my soul seemed to rely on God. Rode to Stockbridge, and enjoyed some comfortable meditations by the way; had a more refreshing taste and relish of heavenly blessedness than I have enjoyed for many months past. I have many times, of late, felt as ardent desires of holiness as ever; but not so much sense of the sweetness and unspeakable pleasure of the enjoyments and employments of heaven. My soul longed to leave earth, and bear a part with angels in their celestial employments. My soul said, Lord, it is good to be here;' and it appeared to be better to die than to lose the relish of these heavenly delights." A sense of divine things seemed to continue with him, in a lesser degree, through the next day. On Wednesday he was, by some discourse that he heard, cast into a melancholy gloom, that operated much in the same manner as his melancholy had formerly done, when he came first to Kaunaumeek; the effects of which seemed to continue in some degree the six following days. "Wednesday, Feb. 22. In the morning had as clear a sense of the exceeding pollution of my nature, as ever I remember to have had in my life. I then appeared to myself inexpressibly loathsome and defiled; sins of childhood, of early youth, and such follies as I had not thought of for years together, as I remember, came now fresh to my view as if committed but yesterday, and appeared in the most odious colours; they appeared more in numbers than the hairs of my head; yea, they went over my head as a heavy burden.' In the evening, the hand of faith seemed to be strengthened in God; my soul seemed to rest and acquiesce in him; was supported under my burdens, reading the 125th Psalm; and found that it was sweet and comfortable to lean on God. "Thursday, Feb. 23. Was frequent in prayer, and enjoyed some assistance. There is a God in heaven who overrules all things for the best; and this is the comfort of my soul: I had fainted, unless I had believed to see the goodness of God in the land of the living,' notwithstanding present sorrows. In the evening, enjoyed some freedom in prayer, for myself, friends, and the church of God. "Friday Feb. 24. Was exceeding restless and perplexed under a sense of the misimprovement of time; mourned to see time pass away; felt in the greatest hurry; seemed to have every thing to do: yet could do nothing, but only grieve and groan under my ignorance, unprofitableness, meanness, the foolishness of my actions and thoughts, the pride and bitterness of some past frames, all which at this time appeared to me in lively colours, and filled me with shame. I could not compose my mind to any profitable studies, by reason of this pressure. And the reason, I judge, why I am not allowed to study a great part of my time, is, because I am endeavouring to lay in such a stock of knowledge, as shall be a self-sufficiency. I know it to be my indispensable duty to study, and qualify myself in the best manner I can for public service: but this is my misery, I naturally study and prepare, that I may consume it upon my lusts' of pride and self-confidence." He continued in much the same frame of uneasiness at the misimprovement of time, and pressure of spirit under a sense of vileness, unprofitableness, &c. for the sir following days; excepting some intervals of calmness and composure, in resignation to and confidence in God. "Friday, March 2. Was most of the day employed in writing on a divine subject. Was frequent in prayer, and enjoyed some small degree of assistance. But in the evening, God was pleased to grant me a divine sweetness in prayer; especially in the duty of intercession. I think I never felt so much kindness and love to those who, I have reason to think, are my enemies though at that time I found such a disposition to think the best of all, that I scarce knew how to think that any such thing as enmity and hatred lodged in any soul; it seemed as if all the world must needs be friends and never prayed with more freedom and delight, for myself, or dearest friend, than I did now for my enemies. "Saturday, March 3. In the morning spent (I believe) an hour in prayer, with great intenseness and freedom, and with the most soft and tender affection towards mankind. I longed that those who, I have reason to think, owe me ill will, might be eternally happy. It seemed refreshing to think of meeting them in heaven, how much soever they had injured me on earth: had no disposition to insist upon any confession from them, in order to reconciliation, and the exercise of love and kindness to them. O it is an emblem of heaven itself, to love all the world with a love of kindness, forgiveness, and benevolence; to feel our souls sedate, mild, and meek; to be void of all evil surmisings and suspicions, and scarce able to think evil of any man upon any occasion; to find our hearts simple, open, and free, to those that look upon us with a different eye! Prayer was so sweet an exercise to me, that I knew not how to cease lest I should lose the spirit of prayer. Felt no disposition to eat or drink, for the sake of the pleasure of it, but only to support my nature, and fit me for divine service. Could not be content without a very particular mention of a great number of dear friends at the throne of grace; as also the particular circumstances of many, so far as they were known. "Lord's day, March 4. In the morning, enjoyed the same intenseness in prayer as yesterday morning, though not in so great a degree: felt the same spirit of love, universal benevolence, forgiveness, humility, resignation, mortification to the world, and composure of mind, as then. My soul rested in God; and I found I wanted no other refuge or friend. While my soul thus trusts in God, all things seem to be at peace with me, even the stones of the earth: but when I cannot apprehend and confide in God, all things appear with a different aspect." Through the four next days he complains of barrenness, want of holy confidence in God, stupidity, wanderings of mind, &c. and speaks of oppression of mind under a sense of exceeding meanness, past follies, as well as present workings of corruption. On Friday he seems to have been restored to a considerable degree of the same excellent frame that he enjoyed the Saturday before. "Saturday, March 10. In the morning, felt exceeding dead to the world, and all its enjoyments: I thought I was ready and willing to give up life and all its comforts, as soon as called to it; and yet then had as much comfort of life as almost ever I had. Life itself now appeared but an empty bubble; the riches, honours, and common enjoyments of life appeared extremely tasteless. I longed to be perpetually and entirely crucified to all things here below, by the cross of Christ. My soul was sweetly resigned to God's disposal of me, in every regard; and I saw there had nothing happened but what was best for me. I confided in God, that he would never leave me, though I should walk through the valley of the shadow of death.' It was then my meat and drink to be holy, to live to the Lord, and die to the Lard. And I thought, that I then enjoyed such a heaven, as far exceeded the most sublime conceptions of an unregenerate soul; and even unspeakably beyond what I myself could conceive of at another time. I did not wonder that Peter said, "Lord, it is good to be here," when thus refreshed with divine glories. My soul was full of love and tenderness in the duty of intercession; especially felt a most sweet affection to some precious godly ministers of my acquaintance. Prayed earnestly for dear Christians, and for those I have reason to fear are my enemies; and could not have spoken a word of bitterness, or entertained a bitter thought, against the vilest man living. Had a sense of my own great unworthiness. My soul seemed to breathe forth love and praise to God afresh, when I thought he would let his children love and receive me as one of their brethren and fellow-citizens. When I thought of their treating me in that manner, I longed to lie at their feet; and could think of no way to express the sincerity and simplicity of my love and esteem of them, as being much better than myself. Towards night was very sorrowful; seemed to myself the worst creature living; and could not pray, nor meditate, nor think of holding up my face before the world. Was a little relieved in prayer, in the evening; but longed to get on my knees, and ask forgiveness of every body that ever had seen any thing amiss in my past conduct, especially in my religious zeal. Was afterwards much perplexed, so that I could not sleep quietly. "Lord's day, March 11. My soul was in some measure strengthened in God, in morning devotion; so that I was released from trembling fear and distress. Preached to my people from the parable of the sower, Matt. xiii. and enjoyed some assistance, both parts of the day: had some freedom, affection, and fervency in addressing my poor people; longed that God should take hold of their hearts, and make them spiritually alive. And indeed I had so much to say to them, that I knew not how to leave off speaking. [382] "Monday, March 12. In the morning was in a devout, tender, and loving frame of mind; and was enabled to cry to God, I hope, with a child-like spirit, with importunity, and resignation, and composure of mind. My spirit was full of quietness, and love to mankind; and longed that peace should reign on the earth: was grieved at the very thoughts of a fiery, angry, and intemperate zeal in religion; mourned over past follies in that regard; and my soul confided in God for strength and grace sufficient for my future work and trials. Spent the day mainly in hard labour, making preparation for my intended journey. "Tuesday, March 13. Felt my soul going forth after God sometimes; but not with such ardency as I longed for. In the evening, was enabled to continue instant in prayer, for some considerable time together; and especially had respect to the journey I designed to enter upon, with the leave of Divine Providence, on the morrow. Enjoyed some freedom and fervency, entreating that the divine presence might attend me in every place where my business might lead me; and had a particular reference to the trials and temptations that I apprehended I might be more eminently exposed to in particular places. Was strengthened and comforted; although I was before very weary. Truly the joy of the Lord is strength and life. "Wednesday, March 14. Enjoyed some intenseness of soul in prayer, repeating my petitions for God's presence in every place where I expected to be in my journey. Besought the Lord that I might not be too much pleased and amused with dear friends and acquaintance, in one place and another. Near ten set out on my journey; and near night came to Stockbridge. "Thursday, March 15. Rode down to Sheffield. Here I met a messenger from East Hampton on Long-Island; who by the unanimous vote of that large town, was sent to invite me thither, in order to settle with that people, where I had been before frequently invited. Seemed more at a loss what was my duty than before; when I heard of the great difficulties of that place, I was much concerned and grieved, and felt some desires to comply with their request; but knew not what to do: endeavoured to commit the case to God." The two next days he went no further than Salisbury, being much hindered by the rain. When he came there, he was much indisposed. He speaks of comfortable and profitable conversation with Christian friends, on these days. "Lord's day, March 18. [At Salisbury.] Was exceeding weak and faint, so that I could scarce walk: but God was pleased to afford me much freedom, clearness, and fervency in preaching: I have not had the like assistance in preaching to sinners for many months past. Here another messenger met me, and informed me of the vote of another congregation, to give me an invitation to come among them upon probation for settlement. [383] Was somewhat exercised in mind with a weight and burden of care. O that God would send forth faithful labourers into his harvest!" After this he went forward on his journey towards New York and New Jersey: in which he proceeded slowly; performing his journey under great degrees of bodily indisposition. However, he preached several times by the way, being urged by friends; in which he had considerable assistance. He speaks of comfort in conversation with Christian friends, from time to time, and of various things in the exercises and frames of his heart, that show much of a divine influence on his mind in this journey: but yet complains of the things that he feared, viz. a decline of his spiritual life, or vivacity in religion, by means of his constant removal from place to place, and want of retirement; and complains bitterly of his unworthiness, deadness, &c. He came to New York on Wednesday, March 28, and to Elizabeth-town on the Saturday following, where it seems he waited till the commissioners came together. "Thursday, April 5. Was again much exercised with weakness, and with pain in my head. Attended on the commissioners in their meeting. [384] Resolved to go on still with the Indian affair, if Divine Providence permitted; although I had before felt some inclination to go to East Hampton, where I was solicited to go." [385] After this, he continued two or three days in the Jerseys, very ill; and then returned to New York; and from thence into New England; and went to his native town of Haddam, where he arrived on Saturday, April 14 And he continues still his bitter complaints of want of retirement. While he was in New York, he says thus, "Oh, it is not the pleasures of the world can comfort me! If God deny his presence, what are the pleasures of the city to me? One hour of sweet retirement where God is, is better than the whole world." And he continues to complain of his ignorance, meanness, and unworthiness. However, he speaks of some seasons of special assistance, and divine sweetness. He spent some days among his friends at East Hampton and Millington. "Tuesday, April 17. Rode to Millington again; and felt perplexed when I set out; was feeble in body, and weak in faith. I was going to preach a lecture; and feared I should never have assistance enough to get through. But contriving to ride alone, at a distance from the company that was going, I spent the time in lifting up my heart to God: had not gone far before my soul was abundantly strengthened with those words, If God be for us, who can be against us?' I went on, confiding in God; and fearing nothing so much as self-confidence. In this frame I went to the house of God, and enjoyed some assistance. Afterwards felt the spirit of love and meekness in conversation with some friends. Then rode home to my brother's; and in the evening, singing hymns with friends, my soul seemed to melt; and in prayer afterwards, enjoyed the exercise of faith, and was enabled to be fervent in spirit: found more of God's presence, than I have done any time in my late wearisome journey. Eternity appeared very near; my nature was very weak, and seemed ready to be dissolved; the sun declining, and the shadows of the evening drawing on apace. O I longed to fill up the remaining moments all for God! Though my body was so feeble, and wearied with preaching, and much private conversation, yet I wanted to sit up all night to do something for God. To God, the giver of these refreshments, be glory for ever and ever. Amen. "Wednesday, April 18. Was very weak, and enjoyed but little spiritual comfort. Was exercised with one who cavilled against original sin. May the Lord open his eyes to see the fountain of sin in himself!" After this, he visited several ministers in Connecticut; and then travelled towards Kaunaumeek, and came to Mr. Sergeant's at Stockbridge, Thursday, April 26. He performed this journey in a very weak state of body. The things he speaks of, appertaining to the frames and exercises of his mind, are at some times deadness and want of spiritual comfort; at other times, resting in God, spiritual sweetness in conversation, engagedness in meditation on the road, assistance in preaching, rejoicing to think that so much more of his work was done, and he so much nearer to the eternal world. And he once and again speaks of a sense of great ignorance, spiritual pollution, &c. "Friday and Saturday, April 27, and 28. Spent some time in visiting friends, and discoursing with my people, (who were now moved down from their own place to Mr. Sergeant's,) and found them very glad to see me returned. Was exercised in my mind with a sense of my own unworthiness. "Lord's day, April 29. Preached for Mr. Sergeant, both parts of the day, from Rev. xiv. 4. These are they which were not defiled,' &c. Enjoyed some freedom in preaching, though not much spirituality. In the evening, my heart was in some measure lifted up in thankfulness to God for any assistance. "Monday, April 30. Rode to Kaunaumeek, but was extremely ill; did not enjoy the comfort I hoped for in my own house. "Tuesday, May 1. Having received new orders to go to a number of Indians on Delaware river in Pennsylvania, and my people here being mostly removed to Mr. Sergeant's, I this day took all my clothes, books, &c. and disposed of them, and set out for Delaware river: but made it my way to return to Mr. Sergeant's; which I did this day, just at night. Rode several hours in the rain through the howling wilderness, although I was so disordered in body, that little or nothing but blood came from me." He continued at Stockbridge the next day, and on Thursday rode a little way, to Sheffield, under a great degree of illness; but with encouragement and cheerfulness of mind under his fatigues. On Friday he rode to Salisbury, and continued there till after the sabbath. He speaks of his soul's being, some part of this time, refreshed in conversation with some Christian friends, about their heavenly home and their journey thither. At other times, he speaks of himself as exceedingly perplexed with barrenness and deadness, and has this exclamation, "Oh, that time should pass with so little done for God!" On Monday he rode to Sharon; and speaks of himself as distressed at the consideration of the misimprovement of time. "Tuesday, May 8. Set out from Sharon in Connecticut, and travelled about forty-five miles to a place called the Fish-kill;? and lodged there. Spent much of my time, while riding, in prayer, that God would go with me to Delaware. My heart sometimes was ready to sink with the thoughts of my work, and going alone in the wilderness, I knew not where: but still it was comfortable to think, that others of God's children had wandered about in caves and dens of the earth,' and Abraham, when he was called to go forth, went out, not knowing whither he went.' O that I might follow after God!" The next day he went forward on his journey; crossed Hudson's river, and went to Goshen in the Highlands; and so travelled across the woods, from Hudson's river to Delaware, about a hundred miles, through a desolate and hideous country, above New Jersey; where were very few settlements; in which journey he suffered much fatigue and hardship. He visited some Indians in the way, [386] and discoursed with them concerning Christianity. Was considerably melancholy and disconsolate, being alone in a strange wilderness. On Saturday he came to a settlement of Irish and Dutch people, about twelve miles above the Forks of Delaware. "Lord's day, May 13. Rose early; felt very poorly after my long journey, and after being wet and fatigued. Was very melancholy; have scarce even seen such a gloomy morning in my life; there appeared to be no sabbath; the children were all at play; I a stranger in the wilderness, and knew not where to go; and all circumstances seemed to conspire to render my affairs dark and discouraging. Was disappointed respecting an interpreter, and heard that the Indians were much scattered, &c. Oh, I mourned after the presence of God, and seemed like a creature banished from his sight! yet he was pleased to support my sinking soul, amidst all my sorrows; so that I never entertained any thought of quitting my business among the poor Indians; but was comforted to think that death would ere long set me free from these distresses. Rode about three or four miles to the Irish people, where I found some that appeared sober and concerned about religion. My heart then began to be a little encouraged: went and preached first to the Irish, and then to the Indians; and in the evening, was a little comforted; my soul seemed to rest on God, and take courage. O that the Lord would be my support and comforter in an evil world! "Monday, May 14. Was very busy in some necessary studies. Felt myself very loose from all the world; all appeared vanity and vexation of spirit.' Seemed lonesome and disconsolate, as if I were banished from all mankind, and bereaved of all that is called pleasurable in the world; but appeared to myself so vile and unworthy, it seemed fitter for me to be here than any where. "Tuesday, May 15. Still much engaged in my studies; and enjoyed more health than I have for some time past: but was something dejected in spirit with a sense of my meanness; seemed as if I could never do any thing at all to any good purpose by reason of ignorance and folly. O that a sense of these things might work more habitual humility in my soul!" He continued much in the same frame the next day. "Thursday, May 17. Was this day greatly distressed with a sense of my vileness; appeared to myself too bad to walk on God's earth, or to be treated with kindness by any of his creatures. God was pleased to let me see my inward pollution and corruption, to such a degree, that I almost despaired of being made holy: Oh! wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death?' In the afternoon met with the Indians, according to appointment, and preached to them. And while riding to them, my soul seemed to confide in God; and afterwards had some relief and enlargement of soul in prayer, and some assistance in the duty of intercession; vital piety and holiness appeared sweet to me, and I longed for the perfection of it. "Friday, May 18. Felt again something of the sweet spirit of religion; and my soul seemed to confide in God, that he would never leave me. But oftentimes saw myself so mean a creature, that I knew not how to think of preaching. O that I could always live to and upon God! "Saturday, May 19. Was, some part of the time, greatly oppressed with the weight and burden of my work; it seemed impossible for me ever to go through with the business I had undertaken. Towards night was very calm and comfortable; and I think my soul trusted in God for help. "Lord's day, May 20. Preached twice to the poor Indians, and enjoyed some freedom in speaking, while I attempted to remove their prejudices against Christianity. My soul longed for assistance from above, all the while; for I saw I had no strength sufficient for that work. Afterwards preached to the Irish people; was much assisted in the first prayer, and something in sermon. Several persons seemed much concerned for their souls, with whom I discoursed afterwards with much freedom and some power. Blessed be God for any assistance afforded to an unworthy worm. O that I could live to him!" Through the remainder of this week he was sometimes ready to sink with a sense of his unworthiness and unfitness for the work of the ministry; and sometimes encouraged and lifted above his fears and sorrows, and was enabled confidently to rely on God; and especially on Saturday, towards night, he enjoyed calmness and composure, and assistance in prayer to God. He rejoiced, "That God remains unchangeably powerful and faithful, a sure and sufficient portion, and the dwelling-place of his children in all generations." "Lord's day, May 27. Visited my Indians in the morning, and attended upon a funeral among them; was affected to see their heathenish practices. O that they might be turned from darkness to light!' Afterwards got a considerable number of them together, and preached to them; and observed them very attentive. After this, preached to the white people from Heb. ii. 3.'How shall we escape, if we neglect,' &c. Was enabled to speak with some freedom and power: several people seemed much concerned for their souls; especially one who had been educated a Roman catholic. Blessed be the Lord for any help. "Monday, May 28. Set out from the Indians above the Forks of Delaware, on a journey towards Newark in New Jersey, according to my orders. Rode through the wilderness; was much fatigued with the heat; lodged at a place called Black-river; was exceedingly tired and worn out." On Tuesday he came to Newark. The next day, went to Elizabeth-town; on Thursday he went to New York; and on Friday returned to Elizabeth-town. These days were spent in some perplexity of mind. He continued at Elizabeth-town till Friday in the week following. Was enlivened, refreshed, and strengthened on the sabbath at the Lord's table. The ensuing days of the week were spent chiefly in studies preparatory to his ordination; and on some of them he seemed to have much of God's gracious presence, and of the sweet influences of his Spirit; but was in a very weak state of body. On Saturday he rode to Newark. "Lord's day, June 10. [At Newark] In the morning, was much concerned how I should perform the work of the day; and trembled at the thoughts of being left to myself. Enjoyed very considerable assistance in all parts of the public service. Had an opportunity again to attend on the ordinance of the Lord's supper, and through divine goodness was refreshed in it: my soul was full of love and tenderness towards the children of God, and towards all men; felt a certain sweetness of disposition towards every creature. At night I enjoyed more spirituality and sweet desire of holiness, than I have felt for some time: was afraid of every thought and every motion, lest thereby my heart should be drawn away from God. O that I might never leave the blessed God! Lord, in thy presence is fulness of joy.' O the blessedness of living to God! "Monday, June 11. This day the Presbytery met together at Newark, in order to my ordination. Was very weak and disordered in body; yet endeavoured to repose my confidence in God. Spent most of the day alone; especially the forenoon. At three in the afternoon preached my probation-sermon, from Acts xxvi. 17, 18. Delivering thee from the people, and from the Gentiles,' &c. being a text given me for that end. Felt not well, either in body or mind; however God carried me through comfortably. Afterwards passed an examination before the Presbytery. Was much tired, and my mind burdened with the greatness of that charge I was in the most solemn manner about to take upon me; my mind was so pressed with the weight of the work incumbent upon me, that I could not sleep this night, though very weary and in great need of rest. Tuesday, June 12. Was this morning further examined, respecting my experimental acquaintance with Christianity* At ten o'clock my ordination was attended; the sermon preached by the Reverend Mr. Pemberton. At this time I was affected with a sense of the important trust committed to me; yet was composed, and solemn, without distraction: and I hope that then, as many times before, I gave myself up to God, to be for him, and not for another. O that I might always be engaged in the service of God, and duly remember the solemn charge I have received, in the presence of God, angels, and men. Amen. May I be assisted of God for this purpose. Towards night rode to Elizabeth-town." __________________________________________________________________ [366] On the last of these days he wrote the first letter in the collection of his letters, among his Remains. [367] This person was Mr. Brainerd's interpreter; who was an ingenious young Indian belonging to Stockbridge, whose name was John Wauwaumpequunnaunt. He had been instructed in the Christian religion by Mr. Sergeant; had lived with the Reverend Mr. Williams of Long Meadow; had been further instructed by him, at the charge of Mr. Hollis of London; and understood both English and Indian very well, and wrote a good hand. [368] His trial was the greater, in that, had it not been for the displeasure of the governors of the college, he would not only on that day have shared with his classmates in the public honours which they then received, but would on that occasion have appeared at the head of that class; which, if he had been with them, would have been the most numerous of any that ever had been graduated at that college. [369] 2 Kings xx. 3. [370] John v. 17. [371] Psalms cxix. 158. [372] This being commencement-day. [373] His trial was the greater, in that, had it not been for the displeasure of the governors of the college, he would not only on that day have shared with his classmates in the public honours which they then received, but would on that occasion have appeared at the head of that class; which, if he had been with them, would have been the most numerous of any that ever had been graduated at that college. [374] I was witness to the very Christian spirit Mr. Brainerd showed at that time, being then at New-Haven, and one that he thought fit to consult on that occasion. This was the first time that ever I had an opportunity of personal acquaintance with him. There truly appeared in him a great degree of calmness and humility; without the least appearance of rising of spirit for any ill treatment he supposed he had suffered, or the least backwardness to abase himself before them, who, as he thought, had wronged him. What he did was without any objection or appearance of reluctance, even in private to his friends, to whom he freely opened himself. Earnest application was made on his behalf to the authority of the college, that he might have his degree then given him; and particularly by the Rev. Mr. Burr of Newark, one of the correspondents of the honourable society in Scotland; he being sent from New Jersey to New-Haven, by the rest of the commissioners for that end; and many arguments were used, but without success. Indeed the governors of the college were so far satisfied with the reflections Mr. Brainerd had made on himself, that they appeared willing to admit him again into college; but not to give him his degree. till he should have remained there at least twelve months, which being contrary to what the correspondents, to whom he was now engaged, had declared to be their mind, he did not consent to it. He desired his degree, as he thought it would tend to his being more extensively useful; but still when he was denied it, he manifested no disappointment or resentment. [375] Rev. iii. 12. ' [376] 2 Kings ii. 14 [377] The commissioners who employed him, had directed him to spend much time this winter with Mr. Sergeant, to learn the language of the Indians; which necessitated him very often to ride, backwards and forwards, twenty miles through uninhabited woods between Stockbridge and Kaunaumeek; which many times exposed him to extreme hardship in the severe seasons of the winter. [378] This day he wrote the second letter among his remains. [379] Which was, I suppose, to the value of about one hundred and eighty-five pounds in our bills of the old tenor, as they now pass. By this. as well as many other things, it is manifest, that his frequent melancholy did not arise from the consideration of any disadvantage he was laid under to get a living in the world, by his expulsion from the college. [380] This day he wrote the third letter among his remains. [381] This is inserted among his Remains. [382] This was the last Sabbath that ever he performed public service at Kaunaumeek, these the last sermons that ever he preached there. It appears by his diary, that while he continued with these Indians, he took great pains with them, and did it with much discretion; but the particular manner how, has been omitted for brevity's sake. [383] This congregation was that at Millington, near Haddam. They were very earnestly desirous of his coming among them. [384] The Indians at Kaunaumeek being but few in number, and Mr. Brainerd having now been labouring among them about a year, and having prevailed upon them to be willing to leave Kaunaumeek, and remove to Stockbridge, to live constantly under Mr. Sergeant's ministry; he thought he might now do more service for Christ among the Indians elsewhere; and therefore went this journey to New Jersey to lay the matter before the commissioners; who met at Elizabeth-town, on this occasion, and determined that he should forthwith leave Kaunaumeek, and go to the Delaware Indians. [385] By the invitations Mr. Brainerd had lately received, it appears that it was not from necessity, or for want of opportunities to settle in the ministry amongst the English, notwithstanding the disgrace he had been laid under at college, that he was determined to forsake all the outward comforts to be enjoyed in the English settlements, to go and spend his life among the brutish savages, and endure the difficulties and self-denials of an Indian mission. He had, just as he was leaving Kaunaumeek, had an earnest invitation to a settlement at East Hampton on Long Island, the fairest, pleasantest town on the whole island, and one of its largest and most wealthy parishes. The people there were unanimous in their desires to have him for their pastor, and for a long time continued in an earnest pursuit of what they desired, and were hardly brought to relinquish their endeavours and give up their hopes of obtaining him. Besides the invitation he had to Millington: which was near his native town, and in the midst of his friends. Nor did Mr. Brainerd choose the business of a missionary to the Indians, rather than accept of those invitations, because he was unacquainted with the difficulties and sufferings which attended such a service; for he had had experience of these difficulties in summer and winter; having spent about a twelvemonth in a lonely desert among these savages, where he had gone through extreme hardships, and been the subject of a train of outward and inward sorrows, which were now fresh in his mind. Notwithstanding all these things, he chose still to go on with this business: and that although the place he was now going to, was at a still much greater distance from most of his friends, acquaintance, and native land. [386] See Mr. Brainerd's Narrative, in a letter to Mr. Pemberton, among his Remains. __________________________________________________________________ PART VI. FROM HIS ORDINATION, TILL HE FIRST BEGAN TO PREACH TO THE INDIANS AT CROSWEEKSUNG, AMONG WHOM HE HAD HIS MOST REMARKABLE SUCCESS. "Wednesday, June 13. [1744.] Spent some considerable time in writing an account of the Indian affairs to go to Scotland; some, in conversation with friends; but enjoyed not much sweetness and satisfaction. "Thursday, June 14. Received some particular kindness from friends; and wondered that God should open the hearts of any to treat me with kindness: saw myself to be unworthy of any favour from God, or any of my fellow-men. Was much exercised with pain in my head; however, I determined to set out on my journey towards Delaware in the afternoon; but when the afternoon came, my pain increased exceedingly, so that I was obliged to betake myself to bed. The night following I was greatly distressed with pain and sickness; was sometimes almost bereaved of the exercise of reason by the extremity of pain. Continued much distressed till Saturday, when I was somewhat relieved by an emetic: but was unable to walk abroad till the Monday following, in the afternoon; and still remained very feeble. I often admired the goodness of God, that he did not suffer me to proceed on my journey from this place where I was so tenderly used, and to be sick by the way among strangers. God is very gracious to me, both in health and sickness, and intermingles much mercy with all my afflictions and toils. Enjoyed some sweetness in things divine, in the midst of my pain and weakness. O that I could praise the Lord!" On Tuesday, June 19, he set out on his journey home, and in three days reached his place, near the Forks of Delaware. Performed the journey under much weakness of body; but had comfort in his soul, from day to day: and both his weakness of body, and consolation of mind, continued through the week. "Lord's day, June 24. Extremely feeble; scarce able to walk: however, visited my Indians, and took much pains to instruct them; laboured with some that were much disaffected to Christianity. My mind was much burdened with the weight and difficulty of my work. My whole dependence and hope of success seemed to be on God; who alone I saw could make them willing to receive instruction. My heart was much engaged in prayer, sending up silent requests to God, even while I was speaking to them. O that I could always go in the strength of the Lord! "Monday, June 25. Was something better in health than of late; was able to spend a considerable part of the day in prayer and close studies. Had more freedom and fervency in prayer than usual of late; especially longed for the presence of God in my work, and that the poor heathen might be converted. And in evening prayer my faith and hope in God were much raised. To an eye of reason every thing that respects the conversion of the heathen is as dark as midnight; and yet I cannot but hope in God for the accomplishment of something glorious among them. My soul longed much for the advancement of the Redeemer's kingdom on earth. Was very fearful lest I should admit some vain thought, and so lose the sense I then had of divine things. O for an abiding heavenly temper! "Tuesday, June 26. In the morning my desires seemed to rise, and ascend up freely to God. Was busy most of the day in translating prayers into the language of the Delaware Indians; met with great difficulty, by reason that my interpreter was altogether unacquainted with the business. But though I was much discouraged with the extreme difficulty of that work, yet God supported me; and especially in the evening gave me sweet refreshment. In prayer my soul was enlarged, and my faith drawn into sensible exercise; was enabled to cry to God for my poor Indians; and though the work of their conversion appeared impossible with man, yet with God I saw all things were possible. My faith was much strengthened, by observing the wonderful assistance God afforded his servants Nehemiah and Ezra, in reforming his people, and re-establishing his ancient church. I was much assisted in prayer for dear Christian friends, and for others that I apprehended to be Christless; but was more especially concerned for the poor heathen, and those of my own charge: was enabled to be instant in prayer for them; and hoped that God would bow the heavens and come down for their salvation. It seemed to me there could be no impediment sufficient to obstruct that glorious work, seeing the living God, as I strongly hoped, was engaged for it. I continued in a solemn frame, lifting up my heart to God for assistance and grace, that I might be more mortified to this present world, that my whole soul might be taken up continually in concern for the advancement of Christ's kingdom: longed that God would purge me more, that I might be as a chosen vessel to bear his name among the heathens. Continued in this frame till I dropped asleep. "Wednesday, June 27. Felt something of the same solemn concern, and spirit of prayer, that I enjoyed last night, soon after I rose in the morning. In the afternoon rode several miles to see if I could procure any lands for the poor Indians, that they might live together, and be under better advantages for instruction. While I was riding had a deep sense of the greatness and difficulty of my work; and my soul seemed to rely wholly upon God for success, in the diligent and faithful use of means. Saw, with greatest certainty, that the arm of the Lord must be revealed, for the help of these poor heathen, if ever they were delivered from the bondage of the powers of darkness. Spent most of the time, while riding, in lifting up my heart for grace and assistance. "Thursday, June 28. Spent the morning in reading several parts of the Holy Scripture, and in fervent prayer for my Indians, that God would set up his kingdom among them, and bring them into his church. About nine I withdrew to my usual place of retirement in the woods; and there again enjoyed some assistance in prayer. My great concern was for the conversion of the heathen to God; and the Lord helped me to plead with him for it. Towards noon rode up to the Indians, in order to preach to them; and while going, my heart went up to God in prayer for them; could freely tell God, he knew that the cause was not mine, which I was engaged in; but it was his own cause, and it would be for his own glory to convert the poor Indians: and blessed be God, I felt no desire of their conversion, that I might receive honour from the world, as being the instrument of it. Had some freedom in speaking to the Indians." The next day he speaks of some serious concern for the kingdom of the blessed Redeemer; but complains much of barrenness, wanderings, inactivity, &c. "Saturday, June 30. My soul was very solemn in reading God's word; especially the ninth chapter of Daniel. I saw how God had called out his servants to prayer, and made them wrestle with him, when he designed to bestow any great mercy on his church. And, alas! I was ashamed of myself, to think of my dulness and inactivity, when there seemed to be so much to do for the upbuilding of Zion. Oh, how does Zion lie waste! I longed that the church of God might be enlarged: was enabled to pray, I think, in faith; my soul seemed sensibly to confide in God, and was enabled to wrestle with him. Afterwards walked abroad to a place of sweet retirement, and enjoyed some assistance in prayer again; had a sense of my great need of divine help, and felt my soul sensibly depend on God. Blessed be God, this has been a comfortable week to me. "Lord's day, July 1. In the morning was perplexed with wandering, vain thoughts; was much grieved, judged and condemned myself before God. And oh, how miserable did I feel, because I could not live to God! At ten, rode away with a heavy heart, to preach to my Indians. Upon the road I attempted to lift up my heart to God; but was infested with an unsettled, wandering frame of mind; and was exceeding restless and perplexed, and filled with shame and confusion before God. I seemed to myself to be more brutish than any man;' and thought none deserved to be cast out of God's presence' so much as I. If I attempted to lift up my heart to God, as I frequently did by the way, on a sudden, before I was aware, my thoughts were wandering to the ends of the earth;' and my soul was filled with surprise and anxiety, to find it thus. Thus also after I came to the Indians my mind was confused; and I felt nothing sensibly of that sweet reliance on God, that my soul has been comforted with in days past. Spent the forenoon in this posture of mind, and preached to the Indians without any heart. In the afternoon I felt still barren, when I began to preach; and for about half an hour, I seemed to myself to know nothing, and to have nothing to say to the Indians; but soon after I found in myself a spirit of love, and warmth, and power, to address the poor Indians; and God helped me to plead with them, to turn from all the vanities of the heathen, to the living God:' and I am persuaded the Lord touched their consciences; for I never saw such attention raised in them before. And when I came away from them, I spent the whole time while I was riding to my lodgings, three miles distant, in prayer and praise to God. And after I had rode more than two miles, it came into my mind to dedicate myself to God again; which I did with great solemnity, and unspeakable satisfaction; especially gave up myself to him renewed in the work of the ministry. And this I did by divine grace, I hope, without any exception or reserve: not in the least shrinking back from any difficulties that might attend this great and blessed work. I seemed to be most free, cheerful, and full in this dedication of myself. My whole soul cried, Lord, to thee I dedicate myself! O accept of me, and let me be thine for ever. Lord, I desire nothing else, I desire nothing more. O come, come, Lord, accept a poor worm. Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire besides thee.' After this, was enabled to praise God with my whole soul, that he had enabled me to devote and consecrate all my powers to him in this solemn manner. My heart rejoiced in my particular work as a missionary; rejoiced in my necessity of self-denial in many respects; and still continued to give up myself to God, and implore mercy of him; praying incessantly, every moment, with sweet fervency. My nature being very weak of late, and much spent, was now considerably overcome: my fingers grew very feeble, and somewhat Numb. so that I could scarcely stretch them out straight; and when I lighted from my horse, could hardly walk, my joints seemed all to be loosed. But I felt abundant strength in the inner man. Preached to the white people: God helped me much, especially in prayer. Sundry of my poor Indians were so moved as to come to meeting also; and one appeared much concerned. "Monday, July 2. Had some relish of the divine comforts of yesterday; but could not get that warmth and exercise of faith that I desired. Had sometimes a distressing sense of my past follies, and present ignorance and barrenness: and especially in the afternoon, was sunk down under a load of sin and guilt, in that I had lived so little to God, after his abundant goodness to me yesterday. In the evening, though very weak, was enabled to pray with fervency, and to continue instant in prayer, near an hour. My soul mourned over the power of its corruption, and longed exceedingly to be washed and purged as with hyssop. Was enabled to pray for my dear absent friends, Christ's ministers, and his church; and enjoyed much freedom and fervency, but not so much comfort, by reason of guilt and shame before God Judged and condemned myself for the follies of the day. "Tuesday, July 3. Was still very weak. This morning was enabled to pray under a feeling sense of my need of help from God, and, I trust, had some faith in exercise; and, blessed be God, was enabled to plead with him a considerable time. Truly God is good to me. But my soul mourned, and was grieved at my sinfulness and barrenness, and longed to be more engaged for God. Near nine withdrew again for prayer; and through divine goodness, had the blessed Spirit of prayer; my soul loved the duty, and longed for God in it. O it is sweet to be the Lord's, to be sensibly devoted to him! What a blessed portion is God! How glorious, how lovely in himself! O my soul longed to improve time wholly for God! Spent most of the day in translating prayers into Indian. In the evening was enabled again to wrestle with God in prayer with fervency. Was enabled to maintain a self-diffident and watchful frame of spirit, in the evening, and was jealous and afraid lest I should admit carelessness and self-confidence." The next day he seems to have had special assistance and fervency most of the day, but in a less degree than the preceding day. Tuesday was spent in great bodily weakness; yet seems to have been spent in continual and exceeding painfulness in religion; but in great bitterness of spirit by reason of his vileness and corruption; he says, "I thought there was not one creature living so vile as I. Oh, my inward pollution! Oh, my guilt and shame before God! I know not what to do. Oh, I longed ardently to be cleansed and washed from the stains of inward pollution! Oh, to be made like God, or rather to be made fit for God to own!" "Friday, July 6. Awoke this morning in the fear of God: soon called to mind my sadness in the evening past; and spent my first waking minutes in prayer for sanctification, that my soul may be washed from its exceeding pollution and defilement. After I arose, I spent some time in reading God's word and in prayer. I cried to God under a sense of my great indigency. I am, of late, most of all concerned for ministerial qualifications, and the conversion of the heathen: last year I longed to be prepared for a world of glory, and speedily to depart out of this world; but of late all my concern almost is for the conversion of the heathen; and for that end I long to live. But blessed be God, I have less desire to live for any of the pleasures of the world, than ever I had. I long and love to be a pilgrim; and want grace to imitate the life, labours, and sufferings of St. Paul among the heathen. And when I long for holiness now, it is not so much for myself as formerly; but rather that thereby I may become an able minister of the New Testament,' especially to the heathen. Spent about two hours this morning in reading and prayer by turns; and was in a watchful, tender frame, afraid of every thing that might cool my affections, and draw away my heart from God. Was a little strengthened in my studies; but near night was very weak and weary. "Saturday, July 7. Was very much disordered this morning, and my vigour all spent and exhausted: but was affected and refreshed in reading the sweet story of Elijah's translation, and enjoyed some affection and fervency in prayer: longed much for ministerial gifts and graces, that I might do something in the cause of God. Afterwards was refreshed and invigorated, while reading Mr. Joseph Alleine's first Case of Conscience, &c. and enabled then to pray with some ardour of soul, and was afraid of carelessness and self-confidence, and longed for holiness. "Lord's day, July 8. Was ill last night, not able to rest quietly. Had some small degree of assistance in preaching to the Indians; and afterwards was enabled to preach to the white people with some power, especially in the close of my discourse, from Jer. iii. 23. Truly in vain is salvation hoped for from the hills,' &c. The Lord also assisted me in some measure in the first prayer: blessed be his name. Near night, though very weary, was enabled to read God's word with some sweet relish of it, and to pray with affection, fervency, and I trust with faith: my soul was more sensibly dependent on God than usual. Was watchful, tender, and jealous of my own heart, lest I should admit carelessness and vain thoughts, and grieve the blessed Spirit, so that he should withdraw his sweet, kind, and tender influences. Longed to depart, and be with Christ,' more than at any time of late. My soul was exceedingly united to the saints of ancient times, as well as those now living; especially my soul melted for the society of Elijah and Elisha. Was enabled to cry to God with a child-like spirit, and to continue instant in prayer for some time. Was much enlarged in the sweet duty of intercession: was enabled to remember great numbers of dear friends, and precious souls, as well as Christ's ministers. Continued in this frame, afraid of every idle thought, till I dropped asleep. "Monday, July 9. Was under much illness of body most of the day; and not able to sit up the whole day. Towards night felt a little better. Then spent some time in reading God's word and prayer; enjoyed some degree of fervency and affection; was enabled to plead with God for his cause and kingdom: and, through divine goodness, it was apparent to me, that it was his cause I pleaded for, and not my own; and was enabled to make this an argument with God to answer my requests. "Tuesday, July 10. Was very ill, and full of pain, and very dull and spiritless. In the evening had an affecting sense of my ignorance, &c. and of my need of God at all times, to do every thing for me; and my soul was humbled before God. "Wednesday, July 11. Was still exercised with illness and pain. Had some degree of affection and warmth in prayer and reading God's word: longed for Abraham's faith and fellowship with God; and felt some resolution to spend all my time for God, and to exert myself with more fervency in his service; but found my body weak and feeble. In the afternoon, though very ill, was enabled to spend some considerable time in prayer; spent indeed most of the day in that exercise; and my soul was diffident, watchful, and tender, lest I should offend my blessed Friend, in thought or behaviour. I am persuaded my soul confided in, and leaned upon, the blessed God. Oh, what need did I see myself to stand in of God at all times, to assist me and lead me! Found a great want of strength and vigour, both in the outward and inner man." The exercises and experiences that he speaks of in the next nine days, are very similar to those of the preceding days of this and the foregoing week; a sense of his own weakness, ignorance, unprofitableness, and vileness; loathing and abhorring himself; self-diffidence; sense of the greatness of his work, and his great need of divine help, and the extreme danger of self-confidence; longing for holiness and humility, and to be fitted for his work, and to live to God; and longing for the conversion of the Indians; and these things to a very great degree. "Saturday, July 21. This morning I was greatly oppressed with guilt and shame, from a sense of inward vileness and pollution. About nine, withdrew to the woods for prayer; but had not much comfort; I appeared to myself the vilest, meanest creature upon earth, and could scarcely live with myself; so mean and vile I appeared, that I thought I should never be able to hold up my face in heaven, if God of his infinite grace should bring me thither. Towards night my burden respecting my work among the Indians began to increase much; and was aggravated by hearing sundry things that looked very discouraging; in particular, that they intended to meet together the next day for an idolatrous feast and dance. Then I began to be in anguish: I thought I must in conscience go, and endeavour to break them up; and knew not how to attempt such a thing. However, I withdrew for prayer, hoping for strength from above. And in prayer I was exceedingly enlarged, and my soul was as much drawn out as ever I remember it to have been in my life, or near. I was in such anguish, and pleaded with so much earnestness and importunity, that when I rose from my knees I felt extremely weak and overcome, I could scarcely walk straight, my joints were loosed, the sweat ran down my face and body, and nature seemed as if it would dissolve. So far as I could judge, I was wholly free from selfish ends in my fervent supplications for the poor Indians. I knew they were met together to worship devils, and not God; and this made me cry earnestly, that God would now appear, and help me in my attempts to break up this idolatrous meeting. My soul pleaded long; and I thought God would hear, and would go with me to vindicate his own cause: I seemed to confide in God for his presence and assistance. And thus I spent the evening praying incessantly for divine assistance, and that I might not be self-dependent, but still have my whole dependence upon God. What I passed through was remarkable, and indeed inexpressible. All things here below vanished; and there appeared to be nothing of any considerable importance to me, but holiness of heart and life, and the conversion of the heathen to God. All my cares, fears, and desires, which might be said to be of a worldly nature, disappeared; and were, in my esteem, of little more importance than a puff of wind. I exceedingly longed, that God would get to himself a name among the heathen; and I appealed to him with the greatest freedom, that he knew I preferred him above my chief joy.' Indeed, I had no notion of joy from this world; I cared not where or how I lived, or what hardships I went through, so that I could but gain souls to Christ. I continued in this frame all the evening and night. While I was asleep, I dreamed of these things; and when I waked, (as I frequently did,) the first thing I thought of was this great work of pleading for God against Satan. "Lord's day, July 22. When I waked, my soul was burdened with what seemed to be before me. I cried to God before I could get out of my bed: and as soon as I was dressed, I withdrew into the woods, to pour out my burdened soul to God, especially for assistance in my great work; for I could scarcely think of any thing else. I enjoyed the same freedom and fervency as the last evening; and did with unspeakable freedom give up myself afresh to God, for life or death, for all hardships he should call me to among the heathen: and felt as if nothing could discourage me from this blessed work. I had a strong hope, that God would bow the heavens and come down,' and do some marvellous work among the heathen. And when I was riding to the Indians, three miles, my heart was continually going up to God for his presence and assistance; and hoping, and almost expecting, that God would make this the day of his power and grace amongst the poor Indians. When I came to them, I found them engaged in their frolic; but through divine goodness I got them to break up and attend to my preaching: yet still there appeared nothing of the special power of God among them. Preached again to them in the afternoon; and observed the Indians were more sober than before: but still saw nothing special among them; from whence Satan took occasion to tempt and buffet me with these cursed suggestions, There is no God, or if there be, he is not able to convert the Indians before they have more knowledge, &c. I was very weak and weary, and my soul borne down with perplexity; but was mortified to all the world, and was determined still to wait upon God for the conversion of the heathen, though the devil tempted me to the contrary. "Monday, July 23. Retained still a deep and pressing sense of what lay with so much weight upon me yesterday; but was more calm and quiet; enjoyed freedom and composure, after the temptations of the last evening: had sweet resignation to the divine will; and desired nothing so much as the conversion of the heathen to God, and that his kingdom might come in my own heart, and the hearts of others. Rode to a settlement of Irish people, about fifteen miles south-westward; spent my time in prayer and meditation by the way. Near night preached from Matt. v. 3. Blessed are the poor in spirit,' &c. God was pleased to afford me some degree of freedom and fervency. Blessed be God for any measure of assistance. "Tuesday, July 24. Rode about seventeen miles westward over a hideous mountain, to a number of Indians. Got together near thirty of them: preached to them in the evening, and lodged among them. [387] Was weak, and felt in some degree disconsolate; yet could have no freedom in the thought of any other circumstances or business in life. All my desire was the conversion of the heathen, and all my hope was in God. God does not suffer me to please or comfort myself with hopes of seeing friends, returning to my dear acquaintance, and enjoying worldly comforts." The next day he preached to these Indians again, and then returned to the Irish settlement, and there preached to a numerous congregation. There was a considerable appearance of awakening in the congregation. Thursday he returned home, exceedingly fatigued and spent; still in the same frame of mortification to the world, and solicitous for the advancement of Christ's kingdom; and on this day he says thus: "I have felt this week more of the spirit of a pilgrim on earth than perhaps ever before; and yet so desirous to see Zion's prosperity, that I was not so willing to leave this scene of sorrows as I used to be." The two remaining days of the week he was very ill, and complains of wanderings, dulness, and want of spiritual fervency and sweetness. On the sabbath he was confined by illness, not able to go out to preach. After this, his illness increased upon him, and he continued very ill all the week; [388] and says, that "he thought he never before endured such a season of distressing weakness; and that his nature was so spent, that he could neither stand, sit, nor lie with any quiet; and that he was exercised with extreme faintness and sickness at his stomach; and that his mind was as much disordered as his body, seeming to be stupid, and without any kind of affections towards all objects; and yet perplexed, to think that he lived for nothing, that precious time rolled away, and he could do nothing but trifle: and speaks of it as a season wherein Satan buffeted him with some peculiar temptations." Concerning the next five days he writes thus, "On Lord's day, August 5, was still very poor. But, though very weak, I visited and preached to the poor Indians twice, and was strengthened vastly beyond my expectations. And indeed, the Lord gave me some freedom and fervency in addressing them; though I had not strength enough to stand, but was obliged to sit down the whole time. Towards night was extremely weak, faint, sick, and full of pain. And thus I have continued much in the same state that I was in last week, through the most of this, (it being now Friday,) unable to engage in any business; frequently unable to pray in the family. I am obliged to let all my thoughts and concerns run at random; for I have neither strength to read, meditate, or pray: and this naturally perplexes my mind. I seem to myself like a man that has all his estate embarked in one small boat, unhappily going adrift, down a swift torrent. The poor owner stands on the shore, and looks, and laments his loss. But, alas! though my all seems to be adrift, and I stand and see it, I dare not lament; for this sinks my spirits more, and aggravates my bodily disorders! I am forced therefore to divert myself with trifles; although at the same time I am afraid, and often feel as if I was guilty of the misimprovement of time. And oftentimes my conscience is so exercised with this miserable way of spending time, that I have no peace; though I have no strength of mind or body to improve it to better purpose. O that God would pity my distressed state!" The next three weeks after this his illness was not so extreme; he was in some degree capable of business, both public and private; although he had some turns wherein his indisposition prevailed to a great degree. He also in this space had, for the most part, much more inward assistance, and strength of mind. He often expresses great longings for the enlargement of Christ's kingdom, especially by the conversion of the heathen to God; and speaks of this hope as all his delight and joy. He continues still to express his usual longings after holiness, living to God, and a sense of his own unworthiness. He several times speaks of his appearing to himself the vilest creature on earth; and once says, that he verily thought there were none of God's children who fell so far short of that holiness and perfection in their obedience which God requires, as he. He speaks of his feeling more dead than ever to the enjoyments of the world. He sometimes mentions the special assistance he had, this space of time, in preaching to the Indians, and of appearances of religious concern among them. He speaks also of assistance in prayer for absent friends, and especially ministers and candidates for the ministry; and of much comfort he enjoyed in the company of some ministers who came to visit him. "Saturday, Sept. 1. Was so far strengthened, after a season of great weakness, that I was able to spend two or three hours in writing on a divine subject. Enjoyed some comfort and sweetness in things divine and sacred: and as my bodily strength was in some measure restored, so my soul seemed to be somewhat vigorous, and engaged in the things of God. "Lord's day, Sept. 2. Was enabled to speak to my poor Indians with much concern and fervency; and I am persuaded God enabled me to exercise faith in him, while I was speaking to them. I perceived that some of them were afraid to hearken to and embrace Christianity, lest they should be enchanted and poisoned by some of the powows: but I was enabled to plead with them not to fear these; and confiding in God for safety and deliverance, I bid a challenge to all these powers of darkness, to do their worst upon me first. I told my people I was a Christian, and asked them why the powows did not bewitch and poison me. I scarcely ever felt more sensible of my own unworthiness, than in this action: I saw, that the honour of God was concerned in the affair; and I desired to be preserved not from selfish views, but for a testimony of the divine power and goodness, and of the truth of Christianity, and that God might be glorified. Afterwards I found my soul rejoice in God for his assisting grace." After this he went a journey into New England, and was absent from the place of his abode, at the Forks of Delaware, about three weeks. He was in a feeble state the greater part of the time. But in the latter part of the journey he found he gained much in health and strength. And as to the state of his mind, and his religious and spiritual exercises, it was much with him as usual in his journeys; excepting that the frame of his mind seemed more generally to be comfortable. But yet there are complaints of some uncomfortable seasons, want of fervency, and want of retirements, and time alone with God. In his journey, he did not forget the Indians; but once and again speaks of his longing for their conversion. "Wednesday, Sept. 26. Rode home to the Forks of Delaware. What reason have I to bless God, who has preserved me in riding more than four hundred and twenty miles, and has kept all my bones, that not one of them has been broken!' My health likewise is greatly recovered. O that I could dedicate my all to God! This is all the return I can make to him. "Thursday, Sept. 27. Was somewhat melancholy; had not much freedom and comfort in prayer: my soul is disconsolate when God is withdrawn. "Friday, Sept. 28. Spent the day in prayer, reading, and writing, Felt some small degree of warmth in prayer, and some desires of the enlargement of Christ's kingdom by the conversion of the heathen, and that God would make me a chosen vessel, to bear his name before them;' longed for grace to enable me to be faithful." The next day he speaks of the same longings for the advancement of Christ's kingdom, and the conversion of the Indians; but complains greatly of the ill effects of the diversions of his late journey, as unfixing his mind from that degree of engagedness, fervency, watchfulness, &c. which he enjoyed before. And the like complaints are continued the day after. "Monday, Oct. 1. Was engaged this day in making preparation for my intended journey to Susquehannah: withdrew several times to the woods for secret duties, and endeavoured to plead for the divine presence to go with me to the poor pagans, to whom I was going to preach the gospel. Towards night rode about four miles, and met brother Byram; [389] who was come, at my desire, to be my companion in travel to the Indians. I rejoiced to see him; and, I trust, God made his conversation profitable to me. I saw him, as I thought, more dead to the world, its anxious cares and alluring objects, than I was; and this made me look within myself, and gave me a greater sense of my guilt, ingratitude, and misery. "Tuesday, Oct. 2. Set out on my journey, in company with dear brother Byram, and my interpreter, and two chief Indians from the Forks of Delaware. Travelled about twenty-five miles, and lodged in one of the last houses on our road; after which there was nothing but a hideous and howling wilderness. "Wednesday, Oct. 3. We went on our way into the wilderness, and found the most difficult and dangerous travelling, by far, that ever any of us had seen; we had scarce any thing else but lofty mountains, deep valleys, and hideous rocks, to make our way through. However, I felt some sweetness in divine things, part of the day, and had my mind intensely engaged in meditation on a divine subject. Near night my beast that I rode upon hung one of her legs in the rocks, and fell down under me; but through divine goodness I was not hurt. However, she broke her leg; and being in such a hideous place, and near thirty miles from any house, I saw nothing that could be done to preserve her life, and so was obliged to kill her, and to prosecute my journey on foot. This accident made me admire the divine goodness to me, that my bones were not broken, and the multitude of them filled with strong pain. Just at dark we kindled a fire, cut up a few bushes and made a shelter over our heads, to save us from the frost, which was very hard that night; and committing ourselves to God by prayer, we lay down on the ground, and slept quietly." The next day they went forward on their journey, and at night took up their lodging in the woods in like manner. "Friday, Oct. 5. We arrived at Susquehannah river, at a place called Opeholhaupung: [390] found there twelve Indian houses: after I had saluted the king in a friendly manner, I told him my business, and that my desire was to teach them Christianity. After some consultation, the Indians gathered, and I preached to them. And when I had done, I asked if they would hear me again. They replied, that they would consider of it; and soon after sent me word, that they would immediately attend, if I would preach: which I did, with freedom, both times. When I asked them again, whether they would hear me further, they replied, they would the next day. I was exceeding sensible of the impossibility of doing any thing for the poor heathen without special assistance from above: and my soul seemed to rest on God, and leave it to him to do as he pleased in that which I saw was his own cause: and indeed, through divine goodness, I had felt something of this frame most of the time while I was travelling thither, and in some measure before I set out. "Saturday, Oct. 6. Rose early and besought the Lord for help in my great work. Near noon preached again to the Indians; and in the afternoon visited them from house to house, and invited them to come and hear me again the next day, and put off their hunting design, which they were just entering upon, till Monday. This night,' I trust, the Lord stood by me,' to encourage and strengthen my soul: I spent more than an hour in secret retirement; was enabled to pour out my heart before God,' for the increase of grace in my soul, for ministerial endowments, for success among the poor Indians, for God's ministers and people, for distant dear friends, &c. Blessed be God!" The next day he complains of great want of fixedness and intenseness in religion, so that he could not keep any spiritual thought one minute without distraction; which occasioned anguish of spirit. He felt amazingly guilty, and extremely miserable; and cries out, "Oh, my soul, what death it is, to have the affections unable to centre in God, by reason of darkness, and consequently roving after that satisfaction elsewhere, that is only to be found here!" However, he preached twice to the Indians with some freedom and power; but was afterwards damped by the objections they made against Christianity. In the evening, in a sense of his great defects in preaching, he "entreated God not to impute to him blood-guiltiness;" but yet was at the same time enabled to rejoice in God. "Monday, Oct. 8. Visited the Indians with a design to take my leave of them, supposing they would this morning go out to hunting early; but beyond my expectation and hope, they desired to hear me preach again. I gladly complied with their request, and afterwards endeavoured to answer their objections against Christianity. Then they went away; and we spent the rest of the afternoon in reading and prayer, intending to go homeward very early the next day. My soul was in some measure refreshed in secret prayer and meditation. Blessed be the Lord for all his goodness. "Tuesday, Oct. 9. We rose about four in the morning, and commending ourselves to God by prayer, and asking his special protection, we set out on our journey homewards about five, and travelled with great steadiness till past six at night; and then made us a fire, and a shelter of barks, and so rested. I had some clear and comfortable thoughts on a divine subject, by the way, towards night. In the night the wolves howled around us; but God preserved us." The next day they rose early, and set forward, and travelled that day till they came to an Irish settlement, with which Mr. Brainerd was acquainted, and lodged there. He speaks of some sweetness in divine things, and thankfulness to God for his goodness to him in this journey, though attended with shame for his barrenness. On Thursday he continued in the same place; and both he and Mr. Byram preached there to the people. "Friday, Oct. 12. Rode home to my lodgings; where I poured out my soul to God in secret prayer, and endeavoured to bless him for his abundant goodness to me in my late journey. I scarce ever enjoyed more health, at least, of later years; and God marvellously, and almost miraculously, supported me under the fatigues of the way, and travelling on foot. Blessed be the Lord, who continually preserves me in all my ways." On Saturday he went again to the Irish settlement, to spend the sabbath there, his Indians being gone. "Lord's day, Oct. 14. Was much confused and perplexed in my thoughts; could not pray; and was almost discouraged, thinking I should never be able to preach any more. Afterwards, God was pleased to give me some relief from these confusions; but still I was afraid, and even trembled before God. I went to the place of public worship, lifting up my heart to God for assistance and grace in my great work: and God was gracious to me, helping me to plead with him for holiness, and to use the strongest arguments with him; drawn from the incarnation and sufferings of Christ for this very end, that men might he made holy. Afterwards I was much assisted in preaching. I know not that ever God helped me to preach in a more close and distinguishing manner for the trial of men's state. Through the infinite goodness of God, I felt what I spoke; he enabled me to treat on divine truth with uncommon clearness: and yet I was so sensible of my defects in preaching, that I could not be proud of my performance, as at some times; and blessed be the Lord for this mercy. In the evening I longed to be entirely alone, to bless God for help in a time of extremity; and longed for great degrees of holiness, that I might show my gratitude to God." The next morning he spent some time before sun-rise in prayer, in the same sweet and grateful frame of mind that he had been in the evening before: and afterwards went to his Indians, and spent some time in teaching and exhorting them. "Tuesday, Oct. 16. Felt a spirit of solemnity and watchfulness; was afraid I should not live to and upon God: longed for more intenseness and spirituality. Spent the day in writing; frequently lifting up my heart to God for more heavenly-mindedness. In the evening enjoyed sweet assistance in prayer, and thirsted and pleaded to be as holy as the blessed angels: longed for ministerial gifts and graces, and success in my work: was sweetly assisted in the duty of intercession, and enabled to remember and plead for numbers of dear friends, and Christ's ministers." He seemed to have much of the same frame of mind the two next days. "Friday, Oct. 19. Felt an abasing sense of my own impurity and unholiness; and felt my soul melt and mourn, that I had abused and grieved a very gracious God, who was still kind to me, notwithstanding all my unworthiness. My soul enjoyed a sweet season of bitter repentance and sorrow, that I had wronged that blessed God, who, I was persuaded, was reconciled to me in his dear Son. My soul was now tender, devout, and solemn. And I was afraid of nothing but sin; and afraid of that in every action and thought." The four next days were manifestly spent in a most constant tenderness, watchfulness, diligence, and self-diffidence. But he complains of wanderings of mind, languor of affections, &c. "Wednesday, Oct. 24. Near noon, rode to my people; spent some time, and prayed with them: felt the frame of a pilgrim on earth; longed much to leave this gloomy mansion; but yet found the exercise of patience and resignation. And as I returned home from the Indians, spent the whole time in lifting up my heart to God. In the evening enjoyed a blessed season alone in prayer; was enabled to cry to God with a child-like spirit, for the space of near an hour; enjoyed a sweet freedom in supplicating for myself, for dear friends, ministers, and some who are preparing for that work, and for the church of God; amid longed to be as lively myself in God's service as the angels. "Thursday, Oct. 25. Was busy in writing. Was very sensible of my absolute dependence on God in all respects; saw that I could do nothing, even in those affairs that I have sufficient natural faculties for, unless God should smile upon my attempt. Not that we are sufficient of ourselves, to think any thing as of ourselves,' I saw was a sacred truth. "Friday, Oct. 26. In the morning my soul was melted with a sense of divine goodness and mercy to such a vile unworthy worm. I delighted to lean upon God, and place my whole trust in him. My soul was exceedingly grieved for sin, and prized and longed after holiness; it wounded my heart deeply, yet sweetly, to think how I had abused a kind God. I longed to be perfectly holy, that I might not grieve a gracious God; who will continue to love, notwithstanding his love is abused! I longed for holiness more for this end, than I did for my own happiness' sake: and yet this was my greatest happiness, never more to dishonour, but always to glorify, the blessed God. Afterwards rode up to the Indians, in the afternoon, &c." The four next days he was exercised with much disorder and pain of body, with a degree of melancholy and gloominess of mind, bitterly complaining of deadness and unprofitableness, yet mourning and longing after God. "Wednesday, Oct. 31. Was sensible of my barrenness and decays in the things of God: my soul failed when I remembered the fervency I had enjoyed at the throne of grace. Oh, I thought, if I could but be spiritual, warm, heavenly-minded, and affectionately breathing after God, this would be better than life to me! My soul longed exceedingly for death, to be loosed from this dulness and barrenness, and made for ever active in the service of God. I seemed to live for nothing, and to do no good: and oh, the burden of such a life! Oh, death, death, my kind friend, hasten, and deliver me from dull mortality, and make me spiritual and vigorous to eternity! "Thursday, Nov. 1. Had but little sweetness in divine things; but afterwards, in the evening, felt some life, and longings after God. I longed to be always solemn, devout, and heavenly-minded; and was afraid to leave off praying, lest I should again lose a sense of the sweet things of God. "Friday, Nov. 2. Was filled with sorrow and confusion in the morning, and could enjoy no sweet sense of divine things, nor get any relief in prayer. Saw I deserved that every one of God's creatures should be let loose, to be the executioners of his wrath against me; and yet therein saw I deserved what I did not fear as my portion. About noon rode up to the Indians; and while going could feel no desires for them, and even dreaded to say any thing to them; but God was pleased to give me some freedom and enlargement, and made the season comfortable to me. In the evening had enlargement in prayer. But, alas! what comforts and enlargements I have felt for these many weeks past, have been only transient and short; and the greater part of my time has been filled up with deadness, or struggles with deadness, and bitter conflicts with corruption. I have found myself exercised sorely with some particular things that I thought myself most of all freed from. And thus I have ever found it, when I have thought the battle was over, and the conquest gained, and so let down my watch, the enemy has risen up and done me the greatest injury. "Saturday, Nov. 3. I read the life and trials of a godly man, and was much warmed by it: I wondered at my past deadness; and was more convinced of it than ever. Was enabled to confess and bewail my sin before God, with self-abhorrence. "Lord's day, Nov. 4. Had, I think, some exercise of faith in prayer in the morning: longed to be spiritual. Had considerable help in preaching to my poor Indians: was encouraged with them, and hoped that God designed mercy for them." The next day* he set out on a journey to New York, to the meeting of the Presbytery there; and was from home more than a fortnight. He seemed to enter on his journey with great reluctance; fearing that the diversions of it would prove a means of cooling his religious affections, as he had found in other journeys. But yet in this journey he had some special seasons wherein he enjoyed extraordinary evidences and fruits of God's gracious presence. He was greatly fatigued, and exposed to cold and storms: and when he returned from New York to New Jersey, on Friday, was taken very ill, and was detained by his illness some time. "Wednesday, Nov. 21. Rode from Newark to Rockciticus in the cold, and was almost overcome with it. Enjoyed some sweetness in conversation with dear Mr. Jones, while I dined with him: my soul loves the people of God, and especially the ministers of Jesus Christ, who feel the same trials that I do. "Thursday, Nov. 22. Came on my way from Rockciticus to Delaware river. Was very much disordered with a cold and pain in my head. About six at night I lost my way in the wilderness, and wandered over rocks and mountains, down hideous steeps, through swamps, and most dreadful and dangerous places; and the night being dark, so that few stars could be seen, I was greatly exposed. I was much pinched with cold, and distressed with an extreme pain in my head, attended with sickness at my stomach; so that every step I took was distressing to me. I had little hope for several hours together, but that I must lie out in the woods all night, in this distressed case. But about nine o'clock I found a house, through the abundant goodness of God, and was kindly entertained. Thus I have frequently been exposed, and sometimes lain out the whole night; but God has hitherto preserved me; and blessed be his name. Such fatigues and hardships as these serve to wean me more from the earth; and, I trust, will make heaven the sweeter. Formerly, when I was thus exposed to cold, rain, &c. I was ready to please myself with the thoughts of enjoying a comfortable house, a warm fire, and other outward comforts; but now these have less place in my heart, (through the grace of God,) and my eye is more to God for comfort. In this world I expect tribulation; and it does not now, as formerly, appear strange to me. I do not in such seasons of difficulty flatter myself that it will be better hereafter; but rather think, how much worse it might be; how much greater trials others of God's children have endured; and how much greater are yet perhaps reserved for me. Blessed be God, that he makes the thoughts of my journey's end and of my dissolution a great comfort to me, under my sharpest trials; and scarce ever lets these thoughts be attended with terror or melancholy; but they are attended frequently with great joy. "Friday, Nov. 23. Visited a sick man; discoursed and prayed with him. Then visited another house, where was one dead and laid out; looked on the corpse, and longed that my time might come to depart, that I might be with Christ. Then went home to my lodgings, about one o'clock. Felt poorly; but was able to read most of the afternoon." Within the space of the next twelve days he passed under many changes in the frames and exercises of his mind. He had many seasons of the special influences of God's Spirit, animating, invigorating, and comforting him in the ways of God and the duties of religion: but had some turns of great dejection and melancholy. He spent much time, within this space, in hard labour, with others, to make for himself a little cottage or hut, to live in by himself through the winter. Yet he frequently preached to the Indians, and speaks of special assistance he had from time to time, in addressing himself to them; and of his sometimes having considerable encouragement, from the attention they gave. But on Tuesday, December 4, he was sunk into great discouragement, to see most of them going in company to an idolatrous feast and dance, after he had taken abundant pains to dissuade them from these things. "Thursday, Dec. 6. Having now a happy opportunity of being retired in a house of my own, which I have lately procured and moved into, and considering that it is now a long time since I have been able, either on account of bodily weakness, or for want of retirement, or some other difficulty, to spend any time in secret fasting and prayer; considering also the greatness of my work, and the extreme difficulties that attend it; and that my poor Indians are now worshipping devils, notwithstanding all the pains I have taken with them, which almost overwhelms my spirit; moreover, considering my extreme barrenness, spiritual deadness and dejection, of late; as also the power of some particular corruptions; I set apart this day for secret prayer and fasting, to implore the blessing of God on myself, on my poor people, on my friends, and on the church of God. At first I felt a great backwardness to the duties of the day, on account of the seeming impossibility of performing them; but the Lord helped me to break through this difficulty. God was pleased, by the use of means, to give me some clear conviction of my sinfulness, and a discovery of the plague of my own heart, more affecting than what I have of late had. And especially I saw my sinfulness in this, that when God had withdrawn himself, then, instead of living and dying in pursuit of him, I have been disposed to one of these two things; either, first, to yield an unbecoming respect to some earthly objects, as if happiness were to be derived from them; or, secondly, to be secretly froward and impatient, and unsuitably desirous of death, so that I have sometimes thought I could not bear to think my life must be lengthened out. And that which often drove me to this impatient desire of death, was a despair of doing any good in life; and I chose death, rather than a life spent for nothing. But now God made me sensible of my sin in these things, and enabled me to cry to him for forgiveness. Yet this was not all I wanted; for my soul appeared exceedingly polluted, my heart seemed like a nest of vipers, or a cage of unclean and hateful birds: and therefore I wanted to be purified by the blood of sprinkling, that cleanseth from all sin.' And this, I hope, I was enabled to pray for in faith. I enjoyed much more intenseness, fervency, and spirituality, than I expected; God was better to me than my fears. And towards night I felt my soul rejoice, that God is unchangeably happy and glorious; that he will be glorified, whatever becomes of his creatures. I was enabled to persevere in prayer till some time in the evening; at which time I saw so much need of divine help, in every respect, that I knew not how to leave off, and had forgot that I needed food. This evening I was much assisted in meditating on Isa. lii. 3. For thus saith the Lord, Ye have sold yourselves for nought,' &c. Blessed be the Lord for any help in the past day. "Friday, Dec. 7. Spent some time in prayer, in the morning; enjoyed some freedom and affection in the duty, and had longing desires of being made faithful to the death.' Spent a little time in writing on a divine subject: then visited the Indians, and preached to them; but under inexpressible dejection. I had no heart to speak to them, and could not do it but as I forced myself: I knew they must hate to hear me, as having but just got home from their idolatrous feast and devil-worship. In the evening had some freedom in prayer and meditation. "Saturday, Dec. 8. Have been uncommonly free this day from dejection, and from that distressing apprehension, that I could do nothing: was enabled to pray and study with some comfort; and especially was assisted in writing on a divine subject. In the evening my soul rejoiced in God; and I blessed his name for shining on my soul. O the sweet and blessed change I then felt, when God brought me out of darkness into his marvellous light!' "Lord's day, Dec. 9. Preached, both parts of the day, at a place called Greenwich, in New Jersey, about ten miles from my own house. In the first discourse I had scarce any warmth or affectionate longing for souls. In the intermediate season I got alone among the bushes, and cried to God for pardon of my deadness; and was in anguish and bitterness, that I could not address souls with more compassion and tender affection. I judged and condemned myself for want of this divine temper; though I saw I could not get it as of myself, any more than I could make a world. In the latter exercise, blessed be the Lord, I had some fervency, both in prayer and preaching; and especially in the application of my discourse, I was enabled to address precious souls with affection, concern, tenderness, and importunity. The Spirit of God, I think, was there; as the effects were apparent, tears running down many cheeks. "Monday, Dec. 10. Near noon I preached again: God gave me some assistance, and enabled me to be in some degree faithful; so that I had peace in my own soul, and a very comfortable composure, although Israel should not be gathered.' Came away from Greenwich, and rode home; arrived just in the evening. By the way my soul blessed God for his goodness; and I rejoiced, that so much of my work was done, and I so much nearer my blessed reward. Blessed be God for grace to be faithful. "Tuesday, Dec. 11. Felt very poorly in body, being much tired and worn out the last night. Was assisted in some measure in writing on a divine subject: but was so feeble and sore in my breast, that I had not much resolution in my work. Oh, how I long for that world where the weary are at rest!' and yet through the goodness of God I do not now feel impatient. Wednesday, Dec. 12. Was again very weak; but somewhat assisted in secret prayer, and enabled with pleasure and sweetness to cry, Come, Lord Jesus! come, Lord Jesus! come quickly.' My soul longed for God, for the living God.' O how delightful it is, to pray under such sweet influences! Oh how much better is this, than one's necessary food! I had at this time no disposition to eat, (though late in the morning,) for earthly food appeared wholly tasteless. O how much better is thy love than wine,' than the sweetest wine! I visited and preached to the Indians in the afternoon; but under much dejection. Found my interpreter under some concern for his soul; which was some comfort to me; and yet filled me with new care. I longed greatly for his conversion; lifted up my heart to God for it, while I was talking to him; came home, and poured out my soul to God for him: enjoyed some freedom in prayer, and was enabled, I think, to leave all with God. "Thursday, Dec. 13. Endeavoured to spend the day in fasting and prayer, to implore the divine blessing, more especially on my poor people; and in particular, I sought for converting grace for my interpreter, and three or four more under some concern for their souls. I was much disordered in the morning when I arose; but having determined to spend the day in this manner, I attempted it. Some freedom I had in pleading for these poor concerned souls, several times; and when interceding for them, I enjoyed greater freedom from wandering and distracting thoughts, than in any part of my supplications. But, in the general, I was greatly exercised with wanderings; so that in the evening it seemed as if I had need to pray for nothing so much as for the pardon of sins committed in the day past, and the vileness I then found in myself. The sins I had most sense of, were pride, and wandering thoughts, whereby I mocked God. The former of these cursed iniquities excited me to think of writing, preaching, or converting heathens, or performing some other great work, that my name might live when I should be dead. My soul was in anguish, and ready to drop into despair, to find so much of that cursed temper. With this, and the other evil I laboured under, viz. wandering thoughts, I was almost overwhelmed, and even ready to give over striving after a spirit of devotion; and oftentimes sunk into a considerable degree of despondency, and thought I was more brutish than any man.' Yet after all my sorrows, I trust, through grace, this day and the exercises of it have been for my good, and taught me more of my corruption, and weakness without Christ, than I knew before. "Friday, Dec. 14. Near noon went to the Indians; but knew not what to say to them, and was ashamed to look them in the face: I felt I had no power to address their consciences, and therefore had no boldness to say any thing. Was, much of the day, in a great degree of despair about ever doing or seeing any good in the land of the living.'" He continued under the same dejection the next day. "Lord's day, Dec. 16. Was so overwhelmed with dejection, that I knew not how to live. I longed for death exceedingly: my soul was sunk into deep waters, and the floods were ready to drown me. I was so much oppressed, that my soul was in a kind of horror: could not keep my thoughts fixed in prayer, for the space of one minute, without fluttering and distraction; and was exceedingly ashamed that I did not live to God. I had no distressing doubt about my own state; but would have cheerfully ventured (as far as I could possibly know) into eternity. While I was going to preach to the Indians, my soul was in anguish; I was so overborne with discouragement, that I despaired of doing any good, and was driven to my wit's end; I knew nothing what to say, nor what course to take. But at last I insisted on the evidence we have of the truth of Christianity from the miracles of Christ; many of which I set before them: and God helped me to make a close application to those who refused to believe the truth of what I taught them. Indeed I was enabled to speak to the consciences of all, in some measure, and was somewhat encouraged to find, that God enabled me to be faithful once more. Then came and preached to another company of them; but was very weary and faint. In the evening I was refreshed, and enabled to pray, and praise God with composure and affection: had some enlargement and courage with respect to my work: was willing to live, and longed to do more for God than my weak state of body would admit of. I can do all things through Christ that strengthens me;' and by his grace, I am willing to spend and be spent in his service, when I am not thus sunk in dejection, and a kind of despair. "Monday, Dec. 17. Was comfortable in mind most of the day; and was enabled to pray with some freedom, cheerfulness, composure, and devotion; had also some assistance in writing on a divine subject. "Tuesday, Dec. 18. Went to the Indians, and discoursed to them near an hour, without any power to come close to their hearts. But at last I felt some fervency, and God helped me to speak with warmth. My interpreter also was amazingly assisted; and I doubt not but the Spirit of God was upon him;' (though I had no reason to think he had any true and saving grace, but was only under conviction of his lost state;) and presently upon this most of the grown persons were much affected, and the tears ran down their cheeks; and one old man (I suppose, a hundred years old) was so affected, that he wept, and seemed convinced of the importance of what I taught them. I staid with them a considerable time, exhorting and directing them; and came away, lifting up my heart to God in prayer and praise, and encouraged and exhorted my interpreter to strive to enter in at the strait gate.' Came home, and spent most of the evening in prayer and thanksgiving; and found myself much enlarged and quickened. Was greatly concerned that the Lord's work, which seemed to be begun, might be carried on with power, to the conversion of poor souls, and the glory of divine grace. Wednesday, Dec. 19. Spent a great part of the day in prayer to God for the outpouring of his Spirit on my poor people; as also to bless his name for awakening my interpreter and some others, and giving us some tokens of his presence yesterday. And, blessed be God, I had much freedom, five or six times in the day, in prayer and praise, and felt a weighty concern upon my spirit for the salvation of those precious souls, and the enlargement of the Redeemer's kingdom among them. My soul hoped in God for some success in my ministry: and blessed be his name for so much hope. "Thursday, Dec. 20. Was enabled to visit the throne of grace frequently this day; and through divine goodness enjoyed much freedom and fervency sundry times: was much assisted in crying for mercy for my poor people, and felt cheerfulness and hope in my requests for them. I spent much of the day in writing; but was enabled to intermix prayer with my studies. "Friday, Dec. 21. Was enabled again to pray with freedom, cheerfulness, and hope. God was pleased to make the duty comfortable and pleasant to me; so that I delighted to persevere, and repeatedly to engage in it. Towards noon visited my people, and spent the whole time in the way to them in prayer, longing to see the power of God among them, as there appeared something of it the last Tuesday; and I found it sweet to rest and hope in God. Preached to them twice, and at two distinct places: had considerable freedom each time, and so had my interpreter. Several of them followed me from one place to the other: and I thought there was some divine influence discernible amongst them. In the evening, was assisted in prayer again. Blessed be the Lord." Very much the same things are expressed concerning his inward frame, exercises, and assistances on Saturday, as on the preceding days. He observes, that this was a comfortable week to him. But then concludes, "Oh that I had no reason to complain of much barrenness! Oh that there were no vain thoughts and evil affections lodging within me! The Lord knows how I long for that world, where they rest not day nor night, saying, Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty," &c. On the following Sabbath, he speaks of assistance and freedom in his public work, but as having less of the sensible presence of God, than frequently in the week past; but yet says, his soul was kept from sinking in discouragement. On Monday again he seemed to enjoy very much the same liberty and fervency, through the day, that he enjoyed through the greater part of the preceding week.' [391] "Tuesday, Dec. 25. Enjoyed very little quiet sleep last night, by reason of bodily weakness, and the closeness of my studies yesterday; yet my heart was somewhat lively in prayer and praise; I was delighted with the divine glory and happiness, and rejoiced that God was God, and that he was unchangeably possessed of glory and blessedness. Though God held my eyes waking, yet he helped me to improve my time profitably amidst my pains and weakness, in continued meditations on Luke xiii. 7.' Behold, these three years I come seeking fruit,' &c. My meditations were sweet; and I wanted to set before sinners their sin and danger." He continued in a very low state, as to his bodily health, for some days; which seems to have been a great hinderance to him in his religious exercises and pursuits. But yet he expresses some degree of divine assistance, from day to day, through the remaining part of this week. He preached several times this week to his Indians; and there appeared still some concern amongst them for their souls. On Saturday he rode to the Irish settlement, about fifteen miles from his lodgings, in order to spend the sabbath there. "Lord's day, Dec. 30. Discoursed, both parts of the day, from Mark viii. 34. Whosoever will come after me,' &c. God gave me very great freedom and clearness, and (in the afternoon especially) considerable warmth and fervency. In the evening also had very great clearness while conversing with friends on divine things: I do not remember ever to have had more clear apprehensions of religion in my life: but found a struggle, in the evening, with spiritual pride." On Monday he preached again in the same place with freedom and fervency; and rode home to his lodging, and arrived in the evening, under a considerable degree of bodily illness, which continued the two next days. And he complains much of spiritual emptiness and barrenness on those days. "Thursday, Jan. 3, 1745. Being sensible of the great want of divine influences, and the outpouring of God's Spirit, I spent this day in fasting and prayer, to seek so great a mercy for myself, my poor people in particular, and the church of God in general. In the morning was very lifeless in prayer, and could get scarce any sense of God. Near noon enjoyed some sweet freedom to pray that the will of God might in every respect become mine; and I am persuaded it was so at that time in some good degree. In the afternoon, I was exceeding weak, and could not enjoy much fervency in prayer; but felt a great degree of dejection; which, I believe, was very much owing to my bodily weakness and disorder. "Friday, Jan. 4. Rode up to the Indians near noon; spent some time under great disorder: my soul was sunk down into deep waters, and I was almost overwhelmed with melancholy. "Saturday, Jan. 5. Was able to do something at writing; but was much disordered with pain in my head. At night was distressed with a sense of my spiritual pollution, and ten thousand youthful, yea, and childish follies, that nobody but myself had any thought about; all which appeared to me now fresh, and in a lively view, as if committed yesterday, and made my soul ashamed before God, and caused me to hate myself. "Lord's day, Jan. 6. Was still distressed with vapoury disorders. Preached to my poor Indians: but had little heart or life. Towards night my soul was pressed under a sense of my unfaithfulness. O the joy and peace that arises from a sense of having obtained mercy of God to be faithful!' And oh the misery and anguish that spring from an apprehension of the contrary!" His dejection continued the two next days; but not to so great a degree on Tuesday, when he enjoyed some freedom and fervency in preaching to the Indians. Wednesday, Jan. 9. In the morning God was pleased to remove that gloom which has of late oppressed my mind, and gave me freedom and sweetness in prayer. I was encouraged, strengthened, and enabled to plead for grace for myself, and mercy for my poor Indians; and was sweetly assisted in my intercessions with God for others. Blessed be his holy name for ever and ever. Amen, and Amen. Those things that of late appeared most difficult and almost impossible, now appeared not only possible, but easy. My soul so much delighted to continue instant in prayer, at this blessed season, that I had no desire for my necessary food: even dreaded leaving off praying at all, lest I should lose this spirituality, and this blessed thankfulness to God which I then felt. I felt now quite willing to live, and undergo all trials that might remain for me in a world of sorrow: but still longed for heaven, that I might glorify God in a perfect manner. O come, Lord Jesus, come quickly.' Spent the day in reading a little; and in some diversions, which I was necessitated to take by reason of much weakness and disorder. In the evening enjoyed some freedom and intenseness in prayer." The three remaining days of the week he was very low and feeble in body; but nevertheless continued constantly in the same comfortable sweet frame of mind, as is expressed on Wednesday. On the sabbath this sweetness in spiritual alacrity began to abate; but still he enjoyed some degree of comfort, and had assistance in preaching to the Indians. "Monday, Jan. 14. Spent this day under a great degree of bodily weakness and disorder; and had very little freedom, either in my studies or devotions; and in the evening, I was much dejected and melancholy. It pains and distresses me, that I live so much of my time for nothing. I long to do much in a little time, and if it might be the Lord's will, to finish my work speedily in this tiresome world. I am sure I do not desire to live for any thing in this world; and through grace I am not afraid to look the king of terrors in the face. I know I shall be afraid, if God leaves me; and therefore I think it always my duty to lay in for that solemn hour. But for a very considerable time past, my soul has rejoiced to think of death in its nearest approaches; and even when I have been very weak, and seemed nearest eternity. Not unto me, not unto me, but to God be the glory.' I feel that which convinces me, that if God do not enable me to maintain a holy dependence upon him, death will easily be a terror to me; but at present, I must say, I long to depart, and to be with Christ,' which is the best of all. When I am in a sweet resigned frame of soul, I am willing to tarry awhile in a world of sorrow, I am willing to be from home as long as God sees fit it should be so; but when I want the influence of this temper, I am then apt to be impatient to be gone. Oh when will the day appear, that I shall be perfect in holiness, and in the enjoyment of God!" The next day was spent under a great degree of dejection and melancholy; which (as he himself was persuaded) was owing partly to bodily weakness, and vapoury disorders. "Wednesday and Thursday, Jan. 16 and 17. I spent most of the time in writing on a sweet divine subject, and enjoyed some freedom and assistance. Was likewise enabled to pray more frequently and fervently than usual: and my soul, I think, rejoiced in God; especially on the evening of the last of these days: praise then seemed comely, and I delighted to bless the Lord. O what reason have I to be thankful, that God ever helps me to labour and study for him! he does but receive his own, when I am enabled in any measure to praise him, labour for him, and live to him. Oh, how comfortable and sweet it is, to feel the assistance of divine grace in the performance of the duties God has enjoined us! Bless the Lord, O my soul." The same enlargement of heart, and joyful frame of soul, continued through the next day. But on the day following it began to decline; which decay seems to have continued the whole of the next week: yet he enjoyed some seasons of special and sweet assistance. "Lord's day, Jan. 27. Had the greatest degree of inward anguish that almost ever I endured. I was perfectly overwhelmed, and so confused, that after I began to discourse to the Indians, before I could finish a sentence, sometimes I forgot entirely what I was aiming at; or if, with much difficulty, I had recollected what I had before designed, still it appeared strange, and like something I had long forgotten, and had now but an imperfect remembrance of. I know it was a degree of distraction, occasioned by vapoury disorders, melancholy, spiritual desertion, and some other things that particularly pressed upon me this morning, with an uncommon weight, the principal of which respected my Indians. This distressing gloom never went off the whole day; but was so far removed, that I was enabled to speak with some freedom and concern to the Indians, at two of their settlements; and I think there was some appearance of the presence of God with us, some seriousness, and seeming concern among the Indians, at least a few of them. In the evening this gloom continued still, till family prayer, [392] about nine o'clock, and almost through this, until I came near the close, when I was praying (as I usually do) for the illumination and conversion of my poor people; and then the cloud was scattered, so that I enjoyed sweetness and freedom, and conceived hopes that God designed mercy for some of them. The same I enjoyed afterwards in secret prayer; in which precious duty I had for a considerable time sweetness and freedom, and (I hope) faith, in praying for myself, my poor Indians, and dear friends and acquaintance in New England, and elsewhere, and for the dear interest of Zion in general. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits." He spent the rest of this week, or at least the most of it, under dejection and melancholy; which on Friday rose to an extreme height; he being then, as he himself observes, much exercised with vapoury disorders. This exceeding gloominess continued on Saturday, till the evening, when he was again relieved in family prayer; and after it was refreshed in secret, and felt willing to live, and endure hardships in the cause of God; and found his hopes of the advancement of Christ's kingdom, as also his hopes to see the power of God among the poor Indians, considerably raised. "Lord's day, Feb. 3. In the morning I was somewhat relieved of that gloom and confusion that my mind has of late been greatly exercised with: was enabled to pray with some composure and comfort. But, however, went to my Indians trembling; for my soul remembered the wormwood and the gall' (I might almost say the hell) of Friday last; and I was greatly afraid I should be obliged again to drink of that cup of trembling, which was inconceivably more bitter than death, and made me long for the grave more, unspeakably more, than for hid treasures, yea, inconceivably more than the men of this world long for such treasures. But God was pleased to hear my cries, and to afford me great assistance; so that I felt peace in my own soul; and was satisfied, that if not one of the Indians should be profited by my preaching, but should all be damned, yet I should be accepted and rewarded as faithful; for I am persuaded God enabled me to be so. Had some good degree of help afterwards, at another place; and much longed for the conversion of the poor Indians. Was somewhat refreshed, and comfortable, towards night, and in the evening. O that my soul might praise the Lord for his goodness! Enjoyed some freedom in the evening, in meditation on Luke xiii. 24. Strive to enter in at the strait gate,' &c." In the three next days he was the subject of much dejection; but the three remaining days of the week seem to have been spent with much composure and comfort. On the next sabbath he preached at Greenwich in New Jersey. In the evening he rode eight miles to visit a sick man at the point of death, and found him speechless and senseless. "Monday, Feb. 11. About break of day the sick man died. I was affected at the sight: spent the morning with the mourners: and after prayer, and some discourse with them, I returned to Greenwich, and preached again from Psal. lxxxix. 15. Blessed is the people that know,' &c. and the Lord gave me assistance; I felt a sweet love to souls, and to the kingdom of Christ; and longed that poor sinners might know the joyful sound. Several persons were much affected. And after meeting I was enabled to discourse with freedom and concern, to some persons that applied to me under spiritual trouble. Left the place, sweetly composed, and rode home to my house about eight miles distant. Discoursed to friends, and inculcated divine truths upon some. In the evening was in the most solemn frame that almost I ever remember to have experienced: I know not that ever death appeared more real to me, or that ever I saw myself in the condition of a dead corpse, laid out, and dressed for a lodging in the silent grave, so evidently as at this time. And yet I felt exceeding comfortably; my mind was composed and calm, and death appeared without a sting. I think I never felt such an universal mortification to all created objects as now. Oh, how great and solemn a thing it appeared to die! Oh, how it lays the greatest honour in the dust! And oh, how vain and trifling did the riches, honours, and pleasures of the world appear! I could not, I dare not, so much as think of any of them; for death, death, solemn (though not frightful) death appeared at the door. Oh, I could see myself dead, and laid out, and enclosed in my coffin, and put down into the cold grave, with the greatest solemnity, but without terror! I spent most of the evening in conversing with a dear Christian friend; and, blessed be God, it was a comfortable evening to us both. What are friends? What are comforts? What are sorrows? What are distresses? ' The time is short: it remains, that they which weep be as though they wept not; and they which rejoice, as though they rejoiced not: for the fashion of this world passeth away. O come, Lord Jesus, come quickly. Amen.' Blessed be God for the comforts of the past day. "Tuesday, Feb. 12. Was exceeding weak; but in a sweet, resigned, composed frame, most of the day: felt my heart freely go forth after God in prayer. "Wednesday, Feb. 13. Was much exercised with vapoury disorders; but still enabled to maintain solemnity, and, I think, spirituality. "Thursday, Feb. 14. Spent the day in writing on a divine subject: enjoyed health, and freedom in my work; had a solemn sense of death; as I have indeed had every day this week, in some measure: what I felt on Monday last has been abiding, in some considerable degree, ever since. "Friday, Feb. 15. Was engaged in writing again almost the whole day. In the evening was much assisted in meditating on that precious text, John vii. 37. Jesus stood and cried,' &c. I had then a sweet sense of the free grace of the gospel; my soul was encouraged, warmed, and quickened. My desires were drawn out after God in prayer; and my soul was watchful, afraid of losing so sweet a guest as I then entertained. I continued long in prayer and meditation, intermixing one with the other; and was unwilling to be diverted by any thing at all from so sweet an exercise. I longed to proclaim the grace I then meditated upon, to the world of sinners. O how quick and powerful is the word of the blessed God!" The next day he complains of great conflicts with corruption, and much discomposure of mind. "Lord's day, Feb. 17. Preached to the white people (my interpreter being absent) in the wilderness upon the sunny side of a hill: had a considerable assembly, consisting of people who lived (at least many of them) not less than thirty miles asunder; some of them came near twenty miles. I discoursed to them, all day, from John vii. 37. Jesus stood and cried, saying, If any man thirst,' &c. In the afternoon it pleased God to grant me great freedom and fervency in my discourse; and I was enabled to imitate the example of Christ in the text, who stood and cried. I think I was scarce ever enabled to offer the free grace of God to perishing sinners with more freedom and plainness in my life. And afterwards I was enabled earnestly to invite the children of God to come renewedly, and drink of this fountain of water of life, from whence they have heretofore derived unspeakable satisfaction. It was a very comfortable time to me. There were many tears in the assembly; and I doubt not but that the Spirit of God was there, convincing poor sinners of their need of Christ. In the evening I felt composed, and comfortable, though much tired. I had some sweet sense of the excellency and glory of God; and my soul rejoiced, that he was God over all, blessed for ever;' but was too much crowded with company and conversation, and longed to be more alone with God. Oh that I could for ever bless God for the mercy of this day, who answered me in the joy of my heart.'" The remainder of this week seems to have been spent under a decay of this life and joy, and in distressing conflicts with corruption; but not without some seasons of refreshment and comfort. "Lord's day, Feb. 24. In the morning was much perplexed: my interpreter being absent, I knew not how to perform my work among the Indians. However, I rode to them, got a Dutchman to interpret for me, though he was but poorly qualified for the business. Afterwards I came and preached to a few white people from John vi. 67. Then said Jesus unto the twelve,' &c. Here the Lord seemed to unburden me in some measure, especially towards the close of my discourse: I felt freedom to open the love of Christ to his own dear disciples. When the rest of the world forsakes him, and are forsaken by him, that he calls them no more, he then turns to his own, and says, Will ye also go away? I had a sense of the free grace of Christ to his own people, in such seasons of general apostacy, and when they themselves in some measure backslide with the world. O the free grace of Christ, that he seasonably reminds his people of their danger of backsliding, and invites them to persevere in their adherence to himself! I saw that backsliding souls, who seemed to be about to go away with the world, might return, and welcome, to him immediately; without any thing to recommend them; notwithstanding all their former backslidings. And thus my discourse was suited to my own soul's case: for, of late, I have found a great want of this sense and apprehension of divine grace; and have often been greatly distressed in my own soul, because I did not suitably apprehend this fountain to purge away sin;' and to have been too much labouring for spiritual life, peace of conscience, and progressive holiness, in my own strength: but now God showed me, in some measure, the arm of all strength, and the fountain of all grace. In the evening I felt solemn, devout, and sweet, resting on free grace for assistance, acceptance, and peace of conscience." Within the space of the next nine days he had frequent refreshing, invigorating influences of God's Spirit; attended with complaints of dulness, and with longings after spiritual life and holy fervency. "Wednesday, March 6. Spent most of the day in preparing for a journey to New England. Spent some time in prayer, with a special reference to my intended journey. Was afraid I should forsake the fountain of living waters, and attempt to derive satisfaction from broken cisterns, my dear friends and acquaintance, with whom I might meet in my journey. I looked to God to keep me from this vanity, as well as others. Towards night, and in the evening, was visited by some friends, some of whom, I trust, were real Christians; who discovered an affectionate regard to me, and seemed grieved that I was about to leave them; especially seeing I did not expect to make any considerable stay among them, if I should live to return from New England. [393] O how kind has God been to me! how has he raised up friends in every place, where his providence has called me! Friends are a great comfort; and it is God that gives them; it is he makes them friendly to me. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits." The next day he set out on his journey; and it was about five weeks before he returned. The special design of this journey, he himself declares afterwards, in his diary for March 21, where, speaking of his conversing with a certain minister in New England, he says, "Contrived with him how to raise some money among Christian friends, in order to support a colleague with me in the wilderness, (I having now spent two years in a very solitary manner,) that we might be together; as Christ sent out his disciples two and two: and as this was the principal concern I had in view, in taking this journey, so I took pains in it, and hope God will succeed it, if for his glory." He first went into various parts of New Jersey, and visited several ministers there: then went to New York; and from thence into New England, going to various parts of Connecticut. He then returned into New Jersey; and met a number of ministers at Woodbridge, "who," he says, "met there to consult about the affairs of Christ's kingdom, in some important articles." He seems, for the most part, to have been free from melancholy in this journey; and many times to have had extraordinary assistance in public ministrations, and his preaching sometimes attended with very hopeful appearances of a good effect on the auditory. He also had many seasons of special comfort and spiritual refreshment, in conversation with ministers and other Christian friends, and also in meditation and prayer when alone. "Saturday, April 13. Rode home to my own house at the Forks of Delaware: was enabled to remember the goodness of the Lord, who has now preserved me while riding full six hundred miles in this journey; has kept me that none of my bones have been broken. Blessed be the Lord, who has preserved me in this tedious journey, and returned me in safety to my own house. Verily it is God that has upheld me, and guarded my goings. "Lord's day, April 14. Was disordered in body with the fatigues of my late journey; but was enabled however to preach to a considerable assembly of white people, gathered from all parts round about, with some freedom, from Ezek. xxxiii. 11. As I live, saith the Lord God,' &c. Had much more assistance than I expected." This week he went a journey to Philadelphia, in order to engage the governor there to use his interest with the chief man of the Six Nations, (with whom he maintained a strict friendship,) that he would give him leave to live at Susquehannah, and instruct the Indians that are within their territories. [394] In his way to and from thence, he lodged with Mr. Beaty, a young presbyterian minister. He speaks of seasons of sweet spiritual refreshment that he enjoyed at his lodgings. "Saturday, April 20. Rode with Mr. Beaty to Abington, to attend Mr. Treat's administration of the sacrament, according to the method of the church of Scotland. When we arrived, we found Mr. Treat preaching; afterwards I preached a sermon from Matt. v. 3. Blessed are the poor in spirit,' &c. God was pleased to give me great freedom and tenderness, both in prayer and sermon: the assembly was sweetly melted, and scores were all in tears. It was, as then I hoped, and was afterwards abundantly satisfied by conversing with them, a word spoken in season to many weary souls.' I was extremely tired, and my spirits much exhausted, so that I could scarcely speak loud; yet I could not help rejoicing in God. "Lord's day, April 21. In the morning was calm and composed, and had some outgoings of soul after God in secret duties, and longing desires of his presence in the sanctuary and at his table; that his presence might be in the assembly; and that his children might be entertained with a feast of fat things. In the forenoon Mr. Treat preached. I felt some affection and tenderness during the administration of the ordinance. Mr. Beaty preached to the multitude abroad, who could not half have crowded into the meeting-house. In the season of the communion, I had comfortable and sweet apprehensions of the blissful communion of God's people, when they shall meet at their Father's table in his kingdom, in a state of perfection. In the afternoon I preached abroad, to the whole assembly, from Rev. xiv. 4. These are they that follow the Lamb,' &c. God was pleased again to give me very great freedom and clearness, but not so much warmth as before. However, there was a most amazing attention in the whole assembly; and, as I was informed afterwards, this was a sweet season to many. "Monday, April 22. I enjoyed some sweetness in retirement, in the morning. At eleven o'clock Mr. Beaty preached, with freedom and life. Then I preached from John vii. 37. In the last day,' &c. and concluded the solemnity. Had some freedom; but not equal to what I had enjoyed before: yet in the prayer the Lord enabled me to cry, I hope, with a child-like temper, with tenderness and brokenness of heart. Came home with Mr. Beaty to his lodgings; and spent the time, while riding, and afterwards, very agreeably on divine things. "Tuesday, April 23. Left Mr. Beaty's, and returned home to the Forks of Delaware: enjoyed some sweet meditations on the road, and was enabled to lift up my heart to God in prayer and praise." The two next days he speaks of much bodily disorder, but of some degrees of spiritual assistance and freedom. "Friday, April 26. Conversed with a Christian friend with some warmth; and felt a spirit of mortification to the world, in a very great degree. Afterwards was enabled to pray fervently, and to rely on God sweetly, for all things pertaining to life and godliness.' Just in the evening was visited by a dear christian friend, with whom I spent an hour or two in conversation, on the very soul of religion. There are many with whom I can talk about religion; but alas! I find few with whom I can talk religion itself: but, blessed be the Lord, there are some that love to feed on the kernel, rather than the shell." The next day he went to the Irish settlement, often before mentioned, about fifteen miles distant; where he spent the sabbath, and preached with some considerable assistance. On Monday he returned, in a very weak state, to his own lodgings. "Tuesday, April 30. Was scarce able to walk about, and was obliged to betake myself to bed much of the day; and spent away the time in a very solitary manner; being neither able to read, meditate, nor pray, and had none to converse with in that wilderness. Oh, how heavily does time pass away, when I can do nothing to any good purpose; but seem obliged to pass away precious time! But of late, I have seen it my duty to divert myself by all lawful means, that I may be fit, at least some small part of my time, to labour for God. And here is the difference between my present diversions, and those I once pursued, when in a natural state. Then I made a god of diversions, delighted in them with a neglect of God, and drew my highest satisfaction from them: now I use them as means to help me in living to God; fixedly delighting in him, and not in them, drawing my highest satisfaction from him. Then they were my all; now they are only means leading to my all. And those things that are the greatest diversion when pursued with this view, do not tend to hinder but promote my spirituality; and I see now, more than ever, that they are absolutely necessary. "Wednesday, May 1. Was not able to sit up more than half the day; and yet had such recruits of strength sometimes, that I was able to write a little on a divine subject. Was grieved that I could no more live to God. In the evening had some sweetness and intenseness in secret prayer. "Thursday, May 2. In the evening, being a little better in health, I walked into the woods, and enjoyed a sweet season of meditation and prayer. My thoughts ran upon Ps. xvii. 15. I shall be satisfied when I awake with thy likeness.' And it was indeed a precious text to me. I longed to preach to the whole world; and it seemed to me, they must needs all be melted in hearing such precious divine truths, as I had then a view and relish of. My thoughts were exceeding clear, and my soul was refreshed. Blessed be the Lord, that in my late and present weakness, now for many days together, my mind is not gloomy, as at some other times. "Friday, May 3. Felt a little vigour of body and mind in the morning; had some freedom, strength, and sweetness in prayer. Rode to, and spent some time with, my Indians. In the evening again retiring into the woods, I enjoyed some sweet meditations on Isa. liii. 1. Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise him,' &c." The three next days were spent in much weakness of body: but yet he enjoyed some assistance in public and private duties; and seems to have remained free from melancholy. "Tuesday, May 7. Spent the day mainly in making preparation for a journey into the wilderness. Was still weak, and concerned how I should perform so difficult a journey. Spent some time in prayer for the divine blessing, direction, and protection in my intended journey; but wanted bodily strength to spend the day in fasting and prayer." The next day he set out on his journey to Susquehannah, with his interpreter. He endured great hardships and fatigues in his way thither through a hideous wilderness; where after having lodged one night in the open woods, he was overtaken with a north-easterly storm, in which he was almost ready to perish. Having no manner of shelter, and not being able to make a fire in so great a rain, he could have no comfort if he stopt; therefore he determined to go forward in hopes of meeting with some shelter, without which he thought it impossible to live the night through; but their horses happening to have eat poison (for want of other food) at a place where they lodged the night before were so sick that they could neither ride nor lead them, but were obliged to drive them and travel on foot; until, through the mercy of God, just at dusk they came to a bark-but, where they lodged that night. After he came to Susquehannah, he travelled about a hundred miles on the river, and visited many towns and settlements of the Indians; saw some of seven or eight distinct tribes; and preached to different nations by different interpreters. He was sometimes much discouraged, and sunk in his spirits, through the opposition that appeared in the Indians to Christianity. At other times he was encouraged by the disposition that some of these people manifested to hear, and willingness to be instructed. He here met with some that had formerly been his hearers at Kaunaumeek, and had removed hither; who saw and heard him again with great joy. He spent a fortnight among the Indians on this river, and passed through considerable labours and hardships, frequently lodging on the ground, and sometimes in the open air; and at length he fell extremely ill, as he was riding in the wilderness, being seized with an ague, followed with a burning fever, and extreme pains in his head and bowels, attended with a great evacuation of blood; so that he thought he must have perished in the wilderness. But at last coming to an Indian trader's hut, he got leave to stay there; and though without physic or food proper for him, it pleased God, after about a week's distress, to relieve him so far that he was able to ride. He returned homewards from Juncauta, an island far down the river; where was a considerable number of Indians, who appeared more free from prejudices against Christianity, than most of the other Indians. He arrived at the Forks of Delaware on Thursday, May 30, after having rode in this journey about three hundred and forty miles. [395] He came home in a very weak state, and under dejection of mind; which was a great hinderance to him in religious exercises. However, on the sabbath, after having preached to the Indians, he preached to the white people with some success, from Isa. liii. 10. Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise him,' &c. some being awakened by his preaching. The next day he was much exercised for want of spiritual life and fervency. "Tuesday, June 4. Towards evening was in distress for God's presence, and a sense of divine things: withdrew myself to the woods, and spent near an hour in prayer and meditation; and I think the Lord had compassion on me, and gave me some sense of divine things; which was indeed refreshing and quickening to me. My soul enjoyed intenseness and freedom in prayer, so that it grieved me to leave the place. "Wednesday, June 5. Felt thirsting desires after God in the morning. In the evening enjoyed a precious season of retirement: was favoured with some clear and sweet meditations upon a sacred text; divine things opened with clearness and certainty, and had a divine stamp upon them. My soul was also enlarged and refreshed in prayer; and I delighted to continue in the duty; and was sweetly assisted in praying for fellow-Christians, and my dear brethren in the ministry. Blessed be the dear Lord for such enjoyments. O how sweet and precious it is, to have a clear apprehension and tender sense of the mystery of godliness, of true holiness, and likeness to the best of beings! O what a blessedness it is, to be as much like God, as it is possible for a creature to be like his great Creator! Lord, give me more of thy likeness; I shall be satisfied, when I awake with it.' Thursday, June 6. Was engaged a considerable part of the day in meditation and study on divine subjects. Enjoyed some special freedom, clearness, and sweetness in meditation. O how refreshing it is, to be enabled to improve time well!" The next day he went a journey of near fifty miles to Neshaminy, to assist at a sacramental occasion, to he attended at Mr. Beaty's meeting-house; being invited thither by him and his people. "Saturday, June 8. Was exceeding weak and fatigued with riding in the heat yesterday: but being desired, I preached in the afternoon, to a crowded audience, from Isa. xl. 1. Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God.' God was pleased to give me great freedom, in opening the sorrows of God's people, and in setting before them comforting considerations. And, blessed be the Lord, it was a sweet melting season in the assembly. "Lord's day, June 9. Felt some longing desires of the presence of God to be with his people on the solemn occasion of the day. In the forenoon Mr. Beaty preached; and there appeared some warmth in the assembly. Afterwards I assisted in the administration of the Lord's supper: and towards the close of it, I discoursed to the multitude extempore, with some reference to that sacred passage, Isa. liii. 10. Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise him.' Here God gave me great assistance in addressing sinners: and the word was attended with amazing power; many scores, if not hundreds, in that great assembly, consisting of three or four thousand, were much affected; so that there was a very great mourning, like the mourning of Hadadrimmon.' In the evening I could hardly look any body in the face, because of the imperfections I saw in my performances in the day past. "Monday, June 10. Preached with a good degree of clearness and some sweet warmth, from Psal. xvii. 15. I shall be satisfied, when I awake, with thy likeness.' And blessed be God, there was a great solemnity and attention in the assembly, and sweet refreshment among God's people; as was evident then, and afterwards. "Tuesday, June 11. Spent the day mainly in conversation with dear Christian friends; and enjoyed some sweet sense of divine things. O how desirable it is, to keep company with God's dear children! These are the excellent ones of the earth in whom,' I can truly say, is all my delight.' O what delight will it afford, to meet them all in a state of perfection! Lord, prepare me for that state." The next day he left Mr. Beaty's, and went to Maiden-head in New Jersey; and spent the next seven days in a comfortable state of mind, visiting several ministers in those parts. "Tuesday, June 18. Set out from New Brunswick with a design to visit some Indians at a place called Crossweeksung in New Jersey, towards the sea. [396] In the afternoon, came to a place called Cranberry, and meeting with a serious minister, Mr. Macknight, I lodged there with him. Had some enlargement and freedom in prayer with a number of people." __________________________________________________________________ [387] See Mr. Brainerd's narrative addressed to Mr. Pemberton, among his Remains. [388] This week, on Tuesday, he wrote the fourth letter among his Remains. [389] Minister at a place called Rockciticus, about forty miles from Mr. Brainerd's lodgings. [390] See his Narrative addressed to Mr. Pemberton. [391] This day he wrote the fifth letter among his Remains. [392] Though Mr. Brainerd now dwelt by himself in the forementioned little cottage, which he had built for his own use; yet that was near to a family of white people with whom he had lived before, and with whom he still attended family prayer. [393] It seems he had a design, by what afterwards appears, to remove and live among the Indians at Susquehannah river. [394] The Indians at Susquehannah are a mixed company of many nations, speaking various languages, and few of them properly of the Six Nations. But yet the country having formerly been conquered by the Six Nations, they claim the land; and the Susquehannah Indians are a kind of vassals to them. [395] This is the journey which he occasionally mentions in his printed Journal. [396] Mr. Brainerd having, when at Boston, wrote and left with a friend a brief relation of facts touching his labours with the Indians, and reception among them, during the space of time between November 5, 1744, and June 19,1745, (with a view to connect his Narrative, addressed to Mr. Pemberton. and his Journal, in case they should ever be reprinted,) concludes the same with this passage: "As my body was very feeble, so my mind was scarce ever so much damped and discouraged about the conversion of the Indians, as at this time. And in this state of body and mind I made my first visit to the Indians in New Jersey, where God was pleased to display his power and grace in the remarkable manner that I have represented in my printed Journal." __________________________________________________________________ PART VII. FROM HIS BEGINNING TO PREACH TO THE INDIANS AT CROSSWEEKSUNG, TILL HE RETURNED FROM HIS LAST JOURNEY TO SUSQUEHANNAH ILL WITH THE CONSUMPTION WHEREOF HE DIED. We are now come to that part of Mr. Brainerd's life, wherein he had his greatest success, in his labours for the good of souls, and in his particular business as a missionary to the Indians. An account of which, if here published, would doubtless be very entertaining to the reader, after he has seen, by the preceding parts of this account of his life, how great and long-continued his desires for the spiritual good of this sort of people were; how he prayed, laboured, and wrestled, and how much he denied himself, and suffered, to this end. After all Mr. Brainerd's agonizing in prayer, and travailing in birth, for the conversion of Indians, and all the interchanges of his raised hopes and expectations, and then disappointments and discouragements; and after waiting in a way of persevering prayer, labour, and suffering, as it were through a long night; at length the day dawns: "Weeping continues for a night, but joy comes in the morning. He went forth weeping, bearing precious seed, and now he comes with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him." The desired event is brought to pass at last; but at a time, in a place, and upon subjects, that scarce ever entered into his heart. An account of this would undoubtedly now much gratify the Christian reader: and it should have been here inserted, as it stands in his diary, had it not been, that a particular account of this glorious and wonderful success was drawn up by Mr. Brainerd himself, pursuant to the order of the Honourable Society in Scotland, and published by him in his lifetime. I hope those of my readers, who are not already possessed of his public Journal, will procure one of those books, that they may not be without that which in some respects is the most remarkable, and to a Christian mind would be the most pleasant part, of the whole story. That the reader who is furnished with one of those books, may know the place where the defects of this history are to be supplied from thence, I shall either expressly observe it as I go along, or else make a dash or stroke thus ; which when the reader finds in this 7th part of this history, he is to understand by it, that in that place something in Mr. Brainerd's diary, worth observing, is left out, because the same for substance was published before in his printed Journal. "Wednesday, June 19, 1745. Rode to the Indians at Crossweeksung: found few at home; discoursed to them, however, and observed them very serious and attentive. At night I was extremely worn out, and scarce able to walk or sit up. Oh, how tiresome is earth! how dull the body! "Thursday, June 20. Towards night preached to the Indians again; and had more hearers than before. In the evening enjoyed some peace and serenity of mind, some composure and comfort in prayer alone; and was enabled to lift up my head with some degree of joy, under an apprehension that my redemption draws nigh. Oh, blessed be God, that there remains a rest to his poor weary people! "Friday, June 21. Rode to Freehold, to see Mr. William Tennent; and spent the day comfortably with him. My sinking spirits were a little raised and encouraged; and I felt my soul breathing after God, in the midst of Christian conversation. And in the evening, was refreshed in secret prayer; saw myself a poor worthless creature, without wisdom to direct, or strength to help myself. Oh, blessed be God, that lays me under a happy, a blessed necessity of living upon himself! "Saturday, June 22. About noon rode to the Indians again; and near night preached to them. Found my body much strengthened, and was enabled to speak with abundant plainness and warmth. And the power of God evidently attended the word; so that sundry persons were brought under great concern for their souls, and made to shed many tears, and to wish for Christ to save them. My soul was much refreshed, and quickened in my work: and I could not but spend much time with them, in order to open both their misery and remedy. This was indeed a sweet afternoon to me. While riding, before I came to the Indians, my spirits were refreshed, and my soul enabled to cry to God almost incessantly, for many miles together. In the evening also I found the consolations of God were not small: I was then willing to live, and in some respects desirous of it, that I might do something for the dear kingdom of Christ; and yet death appeared pleasant: so that I was in some measure in a strait between two, having a desire to depart. I am often weary of this world, and want to leave it on that account; but it is desirable to be drawn, rather than driven, out of it." In the four next days is nothing remarkable in his diary, but what is in his public Journal. Thursday, June 27. My soul rejoiced to find, that God enabled me to be faithful, and that he was pleased to awaken these poor Indians by my means. O how heart-reviving and soul-refreshing is it to me to see the fruit of my labours! Friday, June 28. In the evening my soul was revived, and my heart lifted up to God in prayer, for my poor Indians, myself, and friends, and the dear church of God. And O how refreshing, how sweet was this! Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not his goodness and tender mercy. "Saturday, June 29. Preached twice to the Indians; and could not but wonder at their seriousness, and the strictness of their attention. Blessed be God that has inclined their hearts to hear. And O how refreshing it is to me, to see them attend with such uncommon diligence and affection, with tears in their eyes, and concern in their hearts! In the evening could not but lift up my heart to God in prayer, while riding to my lodgings; and blessed be his name, had assistance and freedom. O how much better than life is the presence of God!" His diary gives an account of nothing remarkable on the two next days, besides what is in his public Journal; excepting his heart being lifted up with thankfulness, rejoicing in God, &c. "Tuesday, July 2. Rode from the Indians to Brunswick, near forty miles, and lodged there. Felt my heart drawn out after God in prayer, almost all the forenoon; especially while riding. And in the evening, could not help crying to God for those poor Indians; and after I went to bed, my heart continued to go out to God for them, till I dropped asleep. O blessed be God that I may pray!" He was so fatigued by constant preaching to these Indians, yielding to their earnest and importunate desires, that he found it necessary to give himself some relaxation. He spent therefore about a week in New Jersey, after he left these Indians, visiting several ministers, and performing some necessary business, before he went to the Forks of Delaware. And though he was very weak in body, yet he seems to have been strong in spirit. On Friday, July 12, he arrived at his own house in the Forks of Delaware; continuing still free from melancholy; from day to day, enjoying freedom, assistance, and refreshment in the inner man. But on Wednesday, the next week, he seems to have had some melancholy thoughts about his doing so little for God, being so much hindered by weakness of body. "Thursday, July 18. Longed to spend the little inch of time I have in the world more for God. Felt a spirit of seriousness, tenderness, sweetness, and devotion; and wished to spend the whole night in prayer and communion with God. "Friday, July 19. In the evening walked abroad for prayer and meditation, and enjoyed composure and freedom in these sweet exercises; especially in meditation on Rev. iii. 12. Him that overcometh will I make a pillar in the temple of my God,' &c. This was then a delightful theme to me, and it refreshed my soul to dwell upon it. Oh, when shall I go no more out from the service and enjoyment of the dear Lord! Lord, hasten the blessed day." Within the space of the next six days he speaks of much inward refreshment and enlargement, from time to time. "Friday, July 26. In the evening God was pleased to help me in prayer, beyond what I have experienced for some time; especially my soul was drawn out for the enlargement of Christ's kingdom, and for the conversion of my poor people: and my soul relied on God for the accomplishment of that great work. Oh, how sweet were the thoughts of death to me at this time! Oh, how I longed to be with Christ, to be employed in the glorious work of angels, and with an angel's freedom, vigour, and delight! And yet how willing was I to stay awhile on earth, that I might do something, if the Lord pleased, for his interest in the world! My soul, my very soul, longed for the ingathering of the poor heathen; and I cried to God for them most willingly and heartily; I could not but cry. This was a sweet season; for I had some lively taste of heaven, and a temper of mind suited in some measure to the employments and entertainments of it. My soul was grieved to leave the place; but my body was weak and worn out, and it was near nine o'clock. Oh, I longed that the remaining part of my life might be filled up with more fervency and activity in the things of God! Oh the inward peace, composure, and God-like serenity of such a frame! heaven must needs differ from this only in degree, and not in kind. Lord, ever give me this bread of life." Much of this frame seemed to continue the next day. "Lord's day, July 28. In the evening my soul was melted, and my heart broken, with a sense of past barrenness and deadness: and oh, how I then longed to live to God, and bring forth much fruit to his glory! "Monday, July 29. Was much exercised with a sense of vileness, with guilt and shame before God." For other things remarkable, while he was this time at the Forks of Delaware, the reader must be referred to his public Journal. As particularly for his labours and success there among the Indians. On Wednesday, July 31, he set out on his return to Crossweeksung, and arrived there the next day. In his way thither, he had longing desires that he might come to the Indians there, in the fulness of the blessing of the gospel of Christ;' attended with a sense of his own great weakness, dependence, and worthlessness. "Friday, Aug. 2. In the evening I retired, and my soul was drawn out in prayer to God; especially for my poor people, to whom I had sent word that they might gather together, that I might preach to them the next day. I was much enlarged in praying for their saving conversion; and scarce ever found my desires of any thing of this nature so sensibly and clearly (to my own satisfaction) disinterested, and free from selfish views. It seemed to me I had no care, or hardly any desire, to be the instrument of so glorious a work, as I wished and prayed for among the Indians: if the blessed work might be accomplished to the honour of God, and the enlargement of the dear Redeemer's kingdom, this was all my desire and care; and for this mercy I hoped, but with trembling; for I felt what Job expresses, chap. ix. 16. If I had called, and he had answered,' &c. My rising hopes, respecting the conversion of the Indians, have been so often dashed, that my spirit is as it were broken, and courage wasted, and I hardly dare hope." Concerning his labours and marvellous success amongst the Indians, for the following ten days, let the reader see his public Journal. The things worthy of note in his diary, not there published, are his earnest and importunate prayers for the Indians, and the travail of his soul for them from day to day; and his great refreshment and joy in beholding the wonderful mercy of God, and the glorious manifestations of his power and grace in his work among them; and his ardent thanksgivings to God; his heart rejoicing in Christ, as King of his church, and King of his soul: in particular, at the sacrament of the Lord's supper at Mr. Macknight's meeting-house; together with a sense of his own exceeding unworthiness, which sometimes was attended with dejection and melancholy. "Monday, Aug. 19. Near noon, I rode to Freehold, and preached to a considerable assembly, from Matt. v. 3. Blessed are the poor in spirit,' &c. It pleased God to leave me to be very dry and barren; so that I do not remember to have been so straitened for a whole twelve-month past. God is just, and he has made my soul acquiesce in his will in this regard. It is contrary to flesh and blood, to be cut off from all freedom, in a large auditory, where their expectations were much raised: but so it was with me; and God helped me to say Amen to it; Good is the will of the Lord.' In the evening I felt quiet and composed, and had freedom and comfort in secret prayer. Tuesday, Aug. 20. Was composed and comfortable, still in a resigned frame. Travelled from Mr. Tennent's in Freehold to Elizabeth-town. Was refreshed to see friends, and relate to them what God had done, and was still doing, among my poor people. Wednesday, Aug. 21. Spent the forenoon in conversation with Mr. Dickinson, contriving something for the settlement of the Indians together in a body, that they might be under better advantages for instruction. In the afternoon spent time agreeably with other friends; wrote to my brother at college: but was grieved that time slid away, while I did so little for God. "Friday, Aug. 23. In the morning was very weak; but favoured with some freedom and sweetness in prayer: was composed and comfortable in mind. After noon rode to Crossweeksung to my poor people. "Saturday, Aug. 24. Had composure and peace, while riding from the Indians to my lodgings: was enabled to pour out my soul to God for dear friends in New England. Felt a sweet tender frame of spirit: my soul was composed and refreshed in God. Had likewise freedom and earnestness in praying for my dear people: blessed be God. O the peace of God that passeth all understanding!' It is impossible to describe time sweet peace of conscience, and tenderness of soul, I then enjoyed. O the blessed foretastes of heaven! "Lord's day, Aug. 25. I rode to my lodgings in the evening, blessing the Lord for his gracious visitation of the Indians, and the soul-refreshing things I had seen time day past amongst them, and praying that God would still carry on his divine work among them. "Monday, Aug. 26. I went from the Indians to my lodgings, rejoicing for the goodness of God to my poor people; and enjoyed freedom of soul in prayer, and other duties, in the evening. Bless the Lord, O my soul." The next day he set out on a journey towards the Forks of Delaware, designing to go from thence to Susquehannah, before he returned to Crossweeksung. It was five days from his departure from Crossweeksung, before he reached the Forks, going round by the way of Philadelphia, and waiting on the governor of Pennsylvania, to get a recommendation from him to the chiefs of the Indians; which he obtained. He speaks of much comfort and spiritual refreshment in this journey; and also a sense of his exceeding unworthiness, thinking himself the meanest creature that ever lived. "Lord's day, Sept. 1. [At the Forks of Delaware] God gave me the spirit of prayer, and it was a blessed season in that respect. My soul cried to God for mercy, in an affectionate manner. In the evening also my soul rejoiced in God." His private diary has nothing remarkable, for the two next days, but what is in his public Journal. "Wednesday, Sept. 4. Rode fifteen miles to an Irish settlement, and preached there from Luke xiv. 22. And yet there is room.' God was pleased to afford me some tenderness and enlargement in the first prayer, and much freedom, as well as warmth, in sermon. There were many tears in the assembly: the people of God seemed to melt, and others to be in some measure awakened. Blessed be the Lord, that lets me see his work going on in one place and another." The account for Thursday is the same for substance as in his public Journal. "Friday, Sept. 6. Enjoyed some freedom and intenseness of mind in prayer alone; and longed to have my soul more warmed with divine and heavenly things. Was somewhat melancholy towards night, and longed to die and quit a scene of sin and darkness; but was a little supported in prayer." This melancholy continued the next day. Lord's day, Sept. 8. In the evening God was pleased to enlarge me in prayer, and give me freedom at the throne of grace. I cried to God for the enlargement of his kingdom in the world, and in particular among my dear people; was also enabled to pray for many dear ministers of my acquaintance, both in these parts and in New England; and also for other dear friends in New England. And my soul was so engaged and enlarged in the sweet exercise, that I spent near an hour in it, and knew not how to leave the mercy-seat. Oh, how I delighted to pray and cry to God! I saw God was both able and willing to do all that I desired, for myself and friends, and his church in general. I was likewise much enlarged and assisted in family prayer, And afterwards, when I was just going to bed, God helped me to renew my petitions with ardency and freedom. Oh, it was to me a blessed evening of prayer! Bless the Lord, O my soul." The next day he set out from the Forks of Delaware to go to Susquehannah. And on the fifth day of his journey he arrived at Shaumoking, a large Indian town on Susquehannah river. He performed the journey under a considerable degree of melancholy. "Saturday, Sept. 14. [At Shaumoking] In the evening my soul was enlarged and sweetly engaged in prayer; especially that God would set up his kingdom in this place, where the devil now reigns in the most eminent manner. And I was enabled to ask this for God, for his glory, and because I longed for the enlargement of his kingdom, to the honour of his dear name. I could appeal to God with the greatest freedom, that he knew it was his dear cause, and not my own, that engaged my heart: and my soul cried, Lord, set up thy kingdom, for thine own glory. Glorify thyself; and I shall rejoice. Get honour to thy blessed name; and this is all I desire. Do with me just what thou wilt. Blessed be thy name for ever, that thou art God, and that thou wilt glorify thyself. O that the whole world might glorify thee! O let these poor people be brought to know thee, and love thee, for the glory of thy dear ever-blessed name!" I could not but hope, that God would bring in these miserable, wicked Indians; though there appeared little human probability of it; for they were then dancing and revelling, as if possessed by the devil. But yet I hoped, though against hope, that God would be glorified, and that his name would be glorified by these poor Indians. I continued long in prayer and praise to God; and had great freedom, enlargement, and sweetness, remembering dear friends in New England, as well as the people of my charge. Was entirely free from that dejection of spirit with which I am frequently exercised. Blessed be God!" His diary from this time to Sept. 22, (the last day of his continuance among the Indians at Susquehannah,) is not legible, by reason of the badness of the ink. It was probably written with the juice of some berries found in the woods, having no other ink in that wilderness. So that for this space of time the reader must be wholly referred to his public Journal. On Monday Sept. 23, he left the Indians, in order to return to the Forks of Delaware, in a very weak state of body, and under dejection of mind, which continued the two first days of his journey. "Wednesday, Sept. 25. Rode still homeward. In the forenoon enjoyed freedom and intenseness of mind in meditation on Job xlii. 5, 6. I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear; but now mine eye seeth thee: wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes.' The Lord gave me clearness to penetrate into the sweet truths contained in that text. It was a comfortable and sweet season to me. "Thursday, Sept. 26. Was still much disordered in body, and able to ride but slowly. Continued my journey, however. Near night, arrived at the Irish settlement, about fifteen miles from mine own house. This day, while riding, I was much exercised with a sense of my barrenness; and verily thought there was no creature that had any true grace, but what was more spiritual and fruitful. I could not think that any of God's children made so poor a hand of living to God. "Friday, Sept. 27. Spent a considerable time in the morning in prayer and praise to God. My mind was somewhat intense in the duty, and my heart in some degree warmed with a sense of divine things. My soul was melted to think that God had accounted me faithful, putting me into the ministry,' notwithstanding all my barrenness and deadness. My soul was also in some measure enlarged in prayer for the dear people of my charge, as well as for other dear friends. In the afternoon visited some Christian friends, and spent the time, I think, profitably: my heart was warmed, and more engaged in the things of God. In the evening I enjoyed enlargement, warmth, and comfort in prayer: my soul relied on God for assistance and grace to enable me to do something in his cause; my heart was drawn out in thankfulness to God for what he had done for his own glory among my poor people of late. I felt encouraged to proceed in his work, being persuaded of his power, and hoping his arm might be further revealed, for the enlargement of his dear kingdom: and my soul rejoiced in hope of the glory of God,' in hope of the advancement of his declarative glory in the world, as well as of enjoying him in a world of glory. Oh, blessed be God, the living God, for ever!" He continued in this comfortable, sweet frame of mind the two next days. On the day following he went to his own house, in the Forks of Delaware, and continued still in the same frame. The next day, which was Tuesday, he visited his Indians. Wednesday he spent mostly in writing the meditations he had in his late journey in Susquehannah. On Thursday he left the Forks of' Delaware, and travelled towards Crossweeksung, where he arrived on Saturday, (October 5,) and continued from day to day in a comfortable state of mind. There is nothing material in his diary for this day and the next, but what is in his printed Journal. Monday, Oct. 7. Being called by the church and people of East Hampton on Long Island, as a member of a council, to assist and advise in affairs of difficulty in that church, I set out on my journey this morning, before it was well light, and travelled to Elizabeth-town, and there lodged. Enjoyed some comfort on the road, in conversation with Mr. Wm. Tennent, who was sent for on the same business." He prosecuted his journey with the other ministers who were sent for; and did not return till Oct. 24. While he was at East Hampton, the importance of the business that the council were come upon, lay with such weight on his mind, and he was so concerned for the interest of religion in that place, that he slept but little for several nights successively. In his way to and fro from East Hampton, he had several seasons of sweet refreshment, wherein his soul was enlarged and comforted with divine consolations, in secret retirement; and he had special assistance in public ministerial performances in the house of God: and yet, at the same time, a sense of extreme vileness and unprofitableness. From time to time he speaks of soul-refreshment and comfort in conversation with the ministers that travelled with him; and seems to have little or nothing of melancholy, till he came to the west end of Long Island, in his return. After that he was oppressed with dejection and gloominess of mind, for several days together. For an account of the four first days after his return from his journey, I refer the reader to his public Journal. "Monday, Oct. 28. Had an evening of sweet refreshing; my thoughts were raised to a blessed eternity; my soul was melted with desires of perfect holiness, and perfectly glorifying God. "Tuesday, Oct. 29. About noon rode and viewed the Indian lands at Cranberry: was much dejected, and greatly perplexed in mind; knew not how to see any body again, my soul was so sunk within me. Oh that these trials might make me more humble and holy. Oh that God would keep me from giving way to sinful dejection, which may hinder my usefulness. "Wednesday, Oct. 30. My soul was refreshed with a view of the continuance of God's blessed work among the Indians. "Thursday, Oct. 31. Spent most of the day in writing: enjoyed not much spiritual comfort; but was not so much sunk with melancholy as at some other times." "Friday, Nov. 1. See the public Journal. "Saturday, Nov. 2. Spent the day with the Indians, and wrote some things of importance; and longed to do more for God than I did or could do in this present and imperfect state." Nov. 3, and 4. See the public Journal. Tuesday, Nov. 5. He left the Indians, and spent the remaining part of this week in travelling to various parts of New Jersey, in order to get a collection for the use of the Indians, and to obtain a schoolmaster to instruct them. And in the mean time he speaks of very sweet refreshment and entertainment with Christian friends, and of his being sweetly employed, while riding, in meditation on divine subjects; his heart being enlarged, his mind clear, his spirit refreshed with divine truths, and his "heart burning within him, while he went by the way and the Lord opened to him the Scriptures." "Lord's day, Nov. 10. [At Elizabeth-town.] Was comfortable in the morning, both in body and mind: preached in the forenoon from 2 Cor. v. 20. Now then we are ambassadors for Christ,' &c. God was pleased to give me freedom and fervency in my discourse; and the presence of God seemed to be in the assembly; numbers were affected, and there were many tears among them. In the afternoon preached from Luke xiv. 22. And yet there is room.' Was favoured with divine assistance in the first prayer, and poured out my soul to God with a filial temper of mind; the living God also assisted me in the sermon." The next day he went to New-town on Long Island, to a meeting of the Presbytery. He speaks of some sweet meditations he had while there, on "Christ delivering up the kingdom to the Father;" and of his soul being much refreshed and warmed with the consideration of that blissful day. "Friday, Nov. 15. Could not cross the ferry by reason of the violence of the wind; nor could I enjoy any place of retirement at the ferry-house; so that I was in perplexity. Yet God gave me some satisfaction and sweetness in meditation, and in lifting up my heart to him in the midst of company. And although some were drinking and talking profanely, which was indeed a grief to me, yet my mind was calm and composed. And I could not but bless God, that I was not like to spend an eternity in such company. In the evening I sat down and wrote with composure and freedom; and can say (through pure grace) it was a comfortable evening to my soul, an evening I was enabled to spend in the service of God. "Saturday, Nov. 16. Crossed the ferry about ten o'clock; arrived at Elizabeth-town near night. Was in a calm, composed frame of mind, and felt an entire resignation with respect to a loss I had lately sustained, in having my horse stolen from me the last Wednesday night, at New-town. Had some longings of soul for the dear people of Elizabeth-town, that God would pour out his Spirit upon them, and revive his work amongst them." He spent the four next days at Elizabeth-town, for the most part in a free and comfortable state of mind, intensely engaged in the service of God, and enjoying, at some times, the special assistances of his Spirit. On Thursday, this week, he rode to Freehold, and spent the day under considerable dejection. "Friday, Nov. 22. Rode to Mr. Tennent's, and from thence to Crossweeksung. Had but little freedom in meditation, while riding; which was a grief and burden to my soul. Oh that I could fill up all my time, whether in the house or by the way, for God! I was enabled, I think, this day to give up my soul to God, and put over all my concerns into his hands; and found some real consolation in the thought of being entirely at the divine disposal, and having no will or interest of my own. I have received my all from God; oh that I could return my all to God! Surely God is worthy of my highest affection, and most devout adoration; he is infinitely worthy, that I should make him my last end, and live for ever to him. Oh that I might never more, in any one instance, live to myself! "Saturday, Nov. 23. Visited my people; spent the day with them: wrote some things of importance. But was pretty much dejected most of the day." There is nothing very material in his diary for the four next days, but what is also in his public Journal. "Thursday, Nov. 28. I enjoyed some divine comfort and fervency in the public exercise, and afterwards. And while riding to my lodgings, was favoured with some sweet meditations on Luke ix. 31. Who appeared in glory, and spake of his decease, which he should accomplish at Jerusalem.' My thoughts ran with freedom, and I saw and felt what a glorious subject the death of CHRIST is for glorified souls to dwell upon in their conversation. Oh, the death of CHRIST! how infinitely precious!" For the three next days, see the public Journal. "Monday, Dec. 2. Was much affected with grief, that I had not lived more to God; and felt strong resolutions to double my diligence in my Master's service." After this he went to a meeting of the Presbytery at a place in New Jersey called Connecticut-Farms; which occasioned his absence from his people the remainder of this week. He speaks of some seasons of sweetness, solemnity, and spiritual affection in his absence. Lord's day, Dec. 8. See his public Journal. "Monday, Dec. 9. Spent most of the day in procuring provisions, in order to my setting up house-keeping among the Indians. Enjoyed little satisfaction through the day, being very much out of my element. "Tuesday, Dec. 10. Was engaged in the same business as yesterday. Towards night, got into my own house. [397] "Wednesday, Dec. 11. Spent the forenoon in necessary labour about my house. In the afternoon, rode out upon business, and spent the evening with some satisfaction among friends in conversation on a serious and profitable subject." Thursday, Dec. 12. See his public Journal. "Friday, Dec. 13. Spent the day mainly in labour about my house. In the evening, spent some time in writing; but was very weary, and much outdone with the labour of the day. "Saturday, Dec. 14. Rose early, and wrote by candlelight some considerable time: spent most of the day in writing; but was somewhat dejected. In the evening was exercised with a pain in my head." For the two next days see his public Journal. The remainder of this week he spent chiefly in writing: some part of the time under a degree of melancholy; but some part of it with a sweet ardency in religion. "Saturday, Dec. 21. After my labours with the Indians, I spent some time in writing some things divine and solemn; and was much wearied with the labours of the day; found that my spirits were extremely spent, and that I could do no more. I am conscious to myself that my labours are as great and constant as my nature will bear, and that ordinarily I go to the extent of my strength; so that I do all I can: but the misery is, I do not labour with that heavenly temper, that single eye to the glory of God, that I long for." Lord's day, Dec. 22. See the public Journal. "Monday and Tuesday, Dec. 23 and 24. Spent these days in writing, with the utmost diligence. Felt in the main a sweet mortification to the world, and a desire to live and labour only for God; but wanted more warmth and spirituality, a more sensible and affectionate regard to the glory of God." Wednesday, Dec. 25. See the public Journal. "Thursday and Friday, Dec. 26 and 27. Laboured in my studies, to the utmost of my strength; and though I felt a steady disposition of mind to live to God, and that I had nothing in this world to live for; yet I did not find that sensible affection in the service of God, that I wanted to have; my heart seemed barren, though my head and hands were full of labour." For the four next days see his public Journal. [398] "Wednesday, Jan. 1, 1746. I am this day beginning a new year; and God has carried me through numerous trials and labours in the past. He has amazingly supported my feeble frame; for having obtained help of God, I continue to this day.' O that I might live nearer to God this year than I did the last! The business to which I have been called, and which I have been enabled to go through, I know, has been as great as nature could bear up under, and what would have sunk and overcome me quite, without special support. But alas, alas! though I have done the labours, and endured the trials, with what spirit have I done the one, and borne the other? how cold has been the frame of my heart oftentimes! and how little have I sensibly eyed the glory of God, in all my doings and sufferings! I have found that I could have no peace without filling up all my time with labours; and thus necessity has been laid upon me;' yea, in that respect, I have loved to labour: but the misery is, I could not sensibly labour for God, as I would have done. May I for the future be enabled more sensibly to make the glory of God my all!" For the space from this time till the next Monday, see the public Journal. "Monday, Jan. 6. Being very weak in body, I rode for my health. While riding, my thoughts were sweetly engaged, for a time, upon the stone cut out of the mountain without hands, which brake in pieces' all before it, and waxed great, and became a great mountain, and filled the whole earth;' and I longed that Jesus should take to himself his great power, and reign to the ends of the earth.' And oh, how sweet were the moments, wherein I felt my soul warm with hopes of the enlargement of the Redeemer's kingdom! I wanted nothing else but that Christ should reign, to the glory of his blessed name." The next day he complains of want of fervency. "Wednesday, Jan. 8. In the evening my heart was drawn out after God in secret: my soul was refreshed and quickened; and, I trust, faith was in exercise. I had great hopes of the ingathering of precious souls to Christ; not only among my own people, but others also. I was sweetly resigned and composed under my bodily weakness; and was willing to live or die, and desirous to labour for God to the utmost of my strength. "Thursday, Jan. 9. Was still very weak, and much exercised with vapoury disorders. In the evening enjoyed some enlargement and spirituality in prayer. Oh that I could always spend my time profitably, both in health and weakness! "Friday, Jan. 10. My soul was in a sweet, calm, composed frame, and my heart filled with love to all the world; and Christian simplicity and tenderness seemed then to prevail and reign within me. Near night visited a serious baptist minister, and had some agreeable conversation with him; and found that I could taste God in friends." For the four next days see the public Journal. "Wednesday, Jan. 15. My spirits were very low and flat, and I could not but think I was a burden to God's earth; and could scarcely look any body in the face, through shame and sense of barrenness. God pity a poor unprofitable creature!" The two next days he had some comfort and refreshment. For the two following days see the public Journal. The next day he set out on a journey to Elizabeth-town, to confer with the Correspondents, at their meeting there; and enjoyed much spiritual refreshment from day to day, through this week. The things expressed in this space of time, are such as these; serenity, composure, sweetness, and tenderness of soul; thanksgiving to God for his success among the Indians; delight in prayer and praise; sweet and profitable meditations on various divine subjects; longing for more love, for more vigour to live to God, for a life more entirely devoted to him, that he might spend all his time profitably for God and in his cause; conversing on spiritual subjects with affection; and lamentation for unprofitableness. "Lord's day, Jan. 26. [At Connecticut-Farms.] Was calm and composed. Was made sensible of my utter inability to preach without divine help; and was in some good measure willing to leave it with God, to give or withhold assistance, as he saw would be most for his own glory. Was favoured with a considerable degree of assistance in my public work. After public worship, I was in a sweet and solemn frame of mind, thankful to God that he had made me in some measure faithful in addressing precious souls, but grieved that I had been no more fervent in my work; and was tenderly affected towards all the world, longing that every sinner might be saved; and could not have entertained any bitterness towards the worst enemy living. In the evening rode to Elizabeth-town: while riding was almost constantly engaged in lifting up my heart to God, lest I should lose that sweet heavenly solemnity and composure of soul I then enjoyed. Afterwards was pleased to think that God reigneth; and thought I could never be uneasy with any of his dispensations; but must be entirely satisfied, whatever trials he should cause me or his church to encounter. Never felt more sedateness, divine serenity, and composure of mind; could freely have left the dearest earthly friend, for the society of angels, and spirits of just men made perfect:' my affections soared aloft to the blessed Author of every dear enjoyment. I viewed the emptiness and unsatisfactory nature of the most desirable earthly objects, any further than God is seen in them: and longed for a life of spirituality and inward purity; without which, I saw, there could be no true pleasure." He retained a great degree of this excellent frame of mind the four next days. As to his public services for and among the Indians, and his success at this time, see the public Journal. "Saturday, Feb. 1. Towards night enjoyed some of the clearest thoughts on a divine subject, (viz. that treated of 1 Cor. xv. 13 16. But if there be no resurrection of the dead,' &c.) that ever I remember to have had upon any subject whatsoever; and spent two or three hours in writing them. I was refreshed with this intenseness: my mind was so engaged in these meditations, I could scarcely turn it to any thing else; and indeed I could not be willing to part with so sweet an entertainment. "Lord's day, Feb. 2. After public worship, my bodily strength being much spent, my spirits sunk amazingly; and especially on hearing that I was so generally taken to be a Roman catholic, sent by the papists to draw the Indians into an insurrection against the English, that some were in fear of me, and others were for having me taken up by authority and punished. Alas, what will not the devil do to bring a slur and disgrace on the work of God! Oh, how holy and circumspect had I need to be! Through divine goodness, I have been enabled to 'mind my own business,' in these parts, as well as elsewhere; and to let all men, and all denominations of men, alone, as to their party notions; and only preached the plain and necessary truths of Christianity, neither inviting to, nor excluding from, my meeting any, of any sort or persuasion whatsoever. Towards night the Lord gave me freedom at the throne of grace, in my first prayer before my catechetical lecture: and in opening the 46th Psalm to my people, my soul confided in God, although the wicked world should slander and persecute me, or even condemn and execute me as a traitor to my king and country. Truly God is a present help in time of trouble.' In the evening my soul was in some measure comforted, having some hope that one poor soul was brought home to God this day; though the case did by no means appear clear. Oh that I could fill up every moment of time, during my abode here below, in the service of my God and King. "Monday, Feb. 3. My spirits were still much sunk with what I heard the day before, of my being suspected to be engaged in the Pretender's interest: it grieved me, that after there had been so much evidence of a glorious work of grace among these poor Indians, as that the most carnal men could not but take notice of the great change made among them, so many poor souls should still suspect the whole to be only a popish plot, and so cast an awful reproach on this blessed work of the divine Spirit; and at the time wholly exclude themselves from receiving any benefit by this divine influence. This put me upon searching whether I had ever dropped any thing inadvertently, that might give occasion to any to suspect that I was stirring up the Indians against the English: and could think of nothing, unless it was my attempting sometimes to vindicate the rights of the Indians, and complaining of the horrid practice of making the Indians drunk, and then cheating them out of their lands and other properties: and once, I remembered, I had done this with too much warmth of spirit, which much distressed me; thinking that it might possibly prejudice them against this work of grace, to their everlasting destruction. God, I believe, did me good by this trial; which served to humble me, and show me the necessity of watchfulness, and of being wise as a serpent,' as well as harmless as a dove.' This exercise led me often to the throne of grace; and there I found some support; though I could not get the burden wholly removed. Was assisted in prayer, especially in the evening." He remained still under a degree of exercise of mind about this affair; which continued to have the same effect upon him, to cause him to reflect upon, and humble himself, and frequent the throne of grace: but soon found himself much more relieved and supported. He was, this week, in an extremely weak state, and obliged (as he expresses it) "to consume considerable time in diversions for his health." For Saturday, Feb. 7. and the sabbath following, see his public Journal. The Monday after he set out on a journey to the Forks of Delaware, to visit the Indians there. He performed the journey under great weakness, and sometimes was exercised with much pain; but says nothing of dejection and melancholy. He arrived at his own house at the Forks on Friday. The things appertaining to his inward frames and exercises, expressed within this week, are, sweet composure of mind; thankfulness to God for his mercies to him and others; resignation to the divine will; comfort in prayer and religious conversation; his heart drawn out after God, and affected with a sense of his own barrenness, as well as the fulness and freeness of divine grace. "Lord's day, Feb. 16 In the evening was in a sweet composed flame of mind. It was exceeding refreshing and comfortable to think that God had been with me, affording me some good measure of assistance. I then found freedom and sweetness in prayer and thanksgiving to God; and found my soul sweetly engaged and enlarged in prayer for dear friends and acquaintance. Blessed be the name of the Lord, that ever I am enabled to do any thing for his dear interest and kingdom. Blessed be God who enables me to he faithful. Enjoyed more resolution and courage for God, and more refreshment of spirit, than I have been favoured with for many weeks past. "Monday, Feb. 17. I was refreshed and encouraged: found a spirit of prayer, in the evening, and earnest longings for the illumination and conversion of these poor Indians." Tuesday, Feb. 18. See the public Journal. "Wednesday, Feb. 19. My heart was comforted and refreshed, and my soul filled with longings for the conversion of the Indians here. "Thursday, Feb. 20. God was pleased to support and refresh my spirits, by affording me assistance this day, and so hopeful a prospect of success. I returned home rejoicing and blessing the name of the Lord; found freedom and sweetness afterwards in secret prayer, and had my soul drawn out for dear friends. Oh, how blessed a thing is it, to labour for God faithfully, and with encouragement of success! Blessed be the Lord for ever and ever, for the assistance and comfort granted this day. "Friday, Feb. 21. My soul was refreshed and comforted, and I could not but bless God, who had enabled me in some good measure to be faithful in the day past. Oh, how sweet it is to be spent and worn out for God! "Saturday, Feb. 22. My spirits were much supported, though my bodily strength was much wasted. Oh that God would be gracious to the souls of these poor Indians! "God has been very gracious to me this week: he has enabled me to preach every day; and has given me some assistance, and encouraging prospect of success in almost every sermon. Blessed be his name. Divers of the white people have been awakened this week, and sundry of the Indians much cured of prejudices and jealousies they had conceived against Christianity, and some seem to be really awakened." Lord's day, Feb. 23. See the public Journal. The next day, he left the Forks of Delaware, to return to Crossweeksung; and spent the whole week till Saturday, before he arrived there; but preached by the way every day, excepting one; and was several times greatly assisted; and had much inward comfort, and earnest longings to fill up all his time in the service of God. He utters such expressions as these, after preaching: "Oh that I may be enabled to plead the cause of God faithfully, to my dying moment! Oh how sweet it would be to spend myself wholly for God, and in his cause, and to be freed from selfish motives in my labours." For Saturday and Lord's day, March 1 and 2, see the public Journal. The four next days were spent in great bodily weakness; but he speaks of some seasons of considerable inward comfort. "Thursday, March 6. I walked alone in the evening, and enjoyed sweetness and comfort in prayer, beyond what I have of late enjoyed: my soul rejoiced in my pilgrimage state, and I was delighted with the thoughts of labouring and enduring hardness for God: felt some longing desires to preach the gospel to dear immortal souls; and confided in God, that he would be with me in my work, and that he never would leave nor forsake me,' to the end of my race. Oh, may I obtain mercy of God to be faithful to my dying moment! "Friday, March 7. In the afternoon went on in my work with freedom and cheerfulness, God assisting me; and enjoyed comfort in the evening." For the two next days see the public Journal. "Monday, March 10. My soul was refreshed with freedom and enlargement; and I hope, the lively exercise of faith, in secret prayer, this night; my will was sweetly resigned to the divine will, and my hopes respecting the enlargement of the dear kingdom of Christ somewhat raised, and could commit Zion's cause to God as his own." On Tuesday he speaks of some sweetness and spirituality in Christian conversation. On Wednesday complains that he enjoyed not much comfort and satisfaction, through the day, because he did but little for God. On Thursday, spent considerable time in company, on a special occasion; but in perplexity, because without savoury religious conversation. For Friday, Saturday, and Lord's day, see the public Journal. In the former part of the week following he was very ill; and also under great dejection; being, as he apprehended, rendered unserviceable by illness, and fearing that he should never be serviceable any more; and therefore exceedingly longed for death. But afterwards was more encouraged, and life appeared more desirable, because, as he says, he "had a little dawn of hope, that he might be useful in the world." In the latter part of the week he was in some measure relieved of his illness, in the use of means prescribed by a physician. For Saturday and Lord's day, March 22 and 23, see his public Journal. "Monday, March 24. After the Indians were gone to their work, to clear their lands, I got alone, and poured out my soul to God, that he would smile upon these feeble beginnings, and that he would settle an Indian town, that might be a mountain of holiness; and found my soul much refreshed in these petitions, and much enlarged for Zion's interest, and for numbers of dear friends in particular. My sinking spirits were revived and raised, and I felt animated in the service God has called me to. This was the dearest hour I have enjoyed for many days, if not weeks. I found an encouraging hope, that something would be done for God, and that God would use and help me in his work. And oh, how sweet were the thoughts of labouring for God, when I felt any spirit and courage, and had any hope that ever I should be succeeded!" The next day his schoolmaster was taken sick with a pleurisy; and he spent great part of the remainder of this week in attending him: which in his weak state was almost an overbearing burden; he being obliged constantly to wait upon him, from day to day, and to lie on the floor at night. His spirits sunk in a considerable degree, with his bodily strength, under this burden. For Saturday and Lord's day, March 29 and 30, see the public Journal. "Monday, March 31. Towards night enjoyed some sweet meditations on those words: It is good for me to draw near to God.' My soul, I think, had some sweet sense of what is intended in those words." The next day he was extremely busy in tending the schoolmaster, and in some other necessary affairs, that greatly diverted him from what he looked upon as his proper business: but yet speaks of comfort and refreshment at some times of the day. "Wednesday, April 2. Was somewhat exercised with a spiritless frame of mind; but was a little relieved and refreshed in the evening with meditation alone in the woods. But, alas! my days pass away as the chaff! it is but little I do, or can do, that turns to any account; and it is my constant misery and burden, that I am so fruitless in the vineyard of the Lord. Oh that I were spirit, that I might be active for God. This, (I think,) more than any thing else, makes me long, that this corruptible might put on incorruption, and this mortal put on immortality.' God deliver me from clogs, fetters, and a body of death, that impede my service for him." The next day he complains bitterly of some exercises by corruption he found in his own heart. "Friday, April 4. Spent most of the day in writing on Rev. xxii. 17. And whosoever will,' &c. Enjoyed some freedom and encouragement in my work; and found some comfort in prayer. "Saturday, April 5. After public worship a number of my dear Christian Indians came to my house; with whom I felt a sweet union of soul. My heart was knit to them; and I cannot say I have felt such a sweet and fervent lure to the brethren for some time past; and I saw in them appearances of the same love. This gave me something of a view of the heavenly state; and particularly that part of the happiness of heaven, which consists in the communion of saints: and this was affecting to me." For the two next days see the public Journal. On Tuesday he went to a meeting of the Presbytery appointed at Elizabeth-town. In his way thither he enjoyed some sweet meditations; but after he came there he was (as he expresses it) very vapoury and melancholy, and under an awful gloom, that oppressed his mind. And this continued till Saturday evening, when he began to have some relief and encouragement. He spent the sabbath at Staten-Island; where he preached to an assembly of Dutch and English, and enjoyed considerable refreshment and comfort, both in public and private. In the evening he returned to Elizabeth-town. "Monday, April 14. My spirits this day were raised and refreshed, and my mind composed, so that I was in a comfortable frame of soul most of the day. In the evening my head was clear, my mind serene; I enjoyed sweetness in secret prayer, and meditation on Ps. lxxiii. 28. But it is good for me to draw near to God,' &c. Oh, how free, how comfortable, cheerful, and yet solemn, do I feel when I am in a good measure freed from those damps and melancholy glooms, that I often labour under! And blessed be the Lord, I find myself relieved in this respect. "Tuesday, April 15. My soul longed for more spirituality; and it was my burden, that I could do no more for God. Oh, my barrenness is my daily affliction and heavy load! Oh, how precious is time: and how it pains me, to see it slide away, while I do so very little to any good purpose! Oh that God would make me more fruitful and spiritual." The next day he speaks of his being almost overwhelmed with vapoury disorders; but yet not so as wholly to destroy the composure of his mind. "Thursday, April 17. Enjoyed some comfort in prayer, some freedom in meditation, and composure in my studies. Spent some time in writing in the forenoon. In the afternoon spent some time in conversation with several dear ministers. In the evening preached from Ps. lxxiii. 28. But it is good for me to draw near to God.' God helped me to feel the truth of my text, both in the first prayer and in sermon. I was enabled to pour out my soul to God, with great freedom, fervency, and affection; and blessed be the Lord, it was a comfortable season to me. I was enabled to speak with tenderness, and yet with faithfulness; and divine truths seemed to fall with weight and influence upon the hearers. My heart was melted for the dear assembly, and I loved every body in it; and scarce ever felt more love to immortal souls in my life: my soul cried, Oh that the dear creatures might be saved! O that God would have mercy on them!'" He seems to have been in a very comfortable frame of mind the two next days. "Lord's day, April 20. [399] Enjoyed some freedom, and, I hope, exercise of faith in prayer, in the morning; especially when I came to pray for Zion. I was free from that gloomy discouragement that so often oppresses my mind; and my soul rejoiced in the hopes of Zion's prosperity, and the enlargement of the dear kingdom of the great Redeemer. Oh that his kingdom might come. "Monday, April 21. Was composed and comfortable in mind most of the day; and was mercifully freed from those gloomy damps that I am frequently exercised with. Had freedom and comfort in prayer several times; and especially had some rising hopes of Zion's enlargement and prosperity. Oh, how refreshing were these hopes to my soul! Oh that the kingdom of the dear Lord might come. Oh that the poor Indians might quickly be gathered in, in great numbers! "Tuesday, April 22. My mind was remarkably free this day from melancholy damps and glooms, and animated in my work. I found such fresh vigour and resolution in the service of God, that the mountains seemed to become a plain before me. Oh, blessed be God for an interval of refreshment, and fervent resolution in my Lord's work! In the evening my soul was refreshed in secret prayer, and my heart drawn out for divine blessings; especially for the church of God, and his interest among my own people, and for dear friends in remote places. Oh that Zion might prosper, and precious souls he brought home to God!" In this comfortable, fervent frame of mind he remained the two next days. For the four days next following, viz. Friday, Saturday, Lord's day, and Monday, see his public Journal. On Tuesday he went to Elizabeth-town, to attend the meeting of the Presbytery there: and seemed to spend the time while absent from his people on this occasion, in a free and comfortable state of mind. "Saturday, May 3. Rode from Elizabeth-town home to my people, at or near Cranberry; whither they are now removed, and where, I hope, God will settle them as a Christian congregation. Was refreshed in lifting up my heart to God, while riding; and enjoyed a thankful frame of spirit for divine favours received the week past. Was somewhat uneasy and dejected in the evening; having no house of my own to go into in this place: but God was my support." For Lord's day and Monday see the public Journal. "Tuesday, May 6. Enjoyed some spirit and courage in my work; was in a good measure free from melancholy: blessed be God for freedom from this death. "Wednesday, May 7. Spent most of the day in writing, as usual. Enjoyed some freedom in my work. Was favoured with some comfortable meditations this day. In the evening was in a sweet composed frame of mind; was pleased and delighted to leave all with God, respecting myself, for time and eternity, and respecting the people of my charge, and dear friends. Had no doubt but that God would take care of me, and of his own interest among my people; and was enabled to use freedom in prayer, as a child with a tender father. Oh, how sweet is such a frame! "Thursday, May 8. In the evening was somewhat refreshed with divine things, and enjoyed a tender, melting frame in secret prayer, wherein my soul was drawn out for the interest of Zion, and comforted with the lively hope of the appearing of the kingdom of the great Redeemer. These were sweet moments: I felt almost loth to go to bed, and grieved that sleep was necessary. However, I lay down with a tender, reverential fear of God, sensible that his favour is life,' and his smiles better than all that earth can boast of, infinitely better than life itself." Friday, May 9. See the public Journal. "Saturday, May 10. Rode to Allen's-town, to assist in the administration of the Lord's supper. In the afternoon preached from Tit. ii. 14. Who gave himself for us,' &c. God was pleased to carry me through with some competency of freedom; and yet to deny me that enlargement and power I longed for. In the evening my soul mourned, and could not but mourn, that I had treated so excellent a subject in so defective a manner; that I had borne so broken a testimony for so worthy and glorious a Redeemer. And if my discourse had met with the utmost applause from all the world, (as I accidentally heard it applauded by some persons of judgment,) it would not have given me any satisfaction. Oh, it grieved me to think, that I had had no more holy warmth and fervency, that I had been no more melted in discoursing of Christ's death, and the end and design of it! Afterwards enjoyed some freedom and fervency in secret and family prayer, and longed much for the presence of God to attend his word and ordinances the next day. "Lord's day, May 11. Assisted in the administration of the Lord's supper; but enjoyed little enlargement: was grieved and sunk with some things I thought undesirable, &c. In the afternoon went to the house of God weak and sick in soul, as well as feeble in body: and longed that the people might be entertained and edified with divine truths, and that an honest fervent testimony might be borne for God; but knew not how it was possible for me to do any thing of that kind, to any good purpose. Yet God, who is rich in mercy, was pleased to give me assistance, both in prayer and preaching. God helped me to wrestle for his presence in prayer, and to tell him that he had promised, Where two or three are met together in his name, there he would be in the midst of them;' and that we were, at least some of us, so met; and pleaded, that for his truth's sake he would be with us. And blessed be God, it was sweet to my soul thus to plead, and rely on God's promises. Discoursed upon Luke ix. 30, 31. And behold, there talked with him two men, which were Moses and Elias; who appeared in glory, and spake of his decease, which he should accomplish at Jerusalem.' Enjoyed special freedom, from the beginning to the end of my discourse, without interruption. Things pertinent to the subject were abundantly presented to my view; and such a fulness of matter, that I scarce knew how to dismiss the various heads and particulars I had occasion to touch upon. And, blessed be the Lord, I was favoured with some fervency and power, as well as freedom; so that the word of God seemed to awaken the attention of a stupid audience, to a considerable degree. I was inwardly refreshed with the consolations of God; and could with my whole heart say, Though there be no fruit in the vine, &c. yet will I rejoice in the Lord.' After public service, was refreshed with the sweet conversation of some Christian friends." The four next days seem to have been mostly spent with spiritual comfort and profit. "Friday, May 16. Near night enjoyed some agreeable and sweet conversation with a dear minister, which, I trust, was blessed to my soul. My heart was warmed, and my soul engaged to live to God; so that I longed to exert myself with more vigour than ever I had done in his cause: and those words were quickening to me, Herein is my Father glorified, that ye bring forth much fruit.' Oh, my soul longed, and wished, and prayed, to be enabled to live to God with utmost constancy and ardour! In the evening God was pleased to shine upon me in secret prayer, and draw out my soul after himself; and I had freedom in supplication for myself, but much more in intercession for others: so that I was sweetly constrained to say, Lord, use me as thou wilt; do as thou wilt with me: but oh, promote thine own cause! Zion is thine; oh visit thine heritage! Let thy kingdom come! Oh let thy blessed interest be advanced in the world!' When I attempted to look to God, respecting my worldly circumstances, and his providential dealings with me, in regard of my settling down in my congregation, which seems to be necessary, and yet very difficult, and contrary to my fixed intention for years past, as well as my disposition which has been, and still is, at times especially, to go forth, and spend my life in preaching the gospel from place to place, and gathering souls afar off to Jesus the great Redeemer I could only say, The will of the Lord be done; it is no matter for me.' The same frame of mind I felt with respect to another important affair I have lately had some serious thoughts of: I could say, with utmost calmness and composure, Lord, if it be most for thy glory, let me proceed in it; but if thou seest that it will in any wise hinder my usefulness in thy cause; oh prevent my proceeding: for all I want, respecting this world, is such circumstances as may best capacitate me to do service for God in the world.' But blessed be God, I enjoyed liberty in prayer for my dear flock, and was enabled to pour out my soul into the bosom of a tender Father: my heart within me was melted, when I came to plead for my dear people, and for the kingdom of Christ in general. Oh, how sweet was this evening to my soul! I knew not how to go to bed; and when got to bed, longed for some way to improve time for God, to some excellent purpose. Bless the Lord, O my soul. "Saturday, May 17. Walked out in the morning, and felt much of the same frame I enjoyed the evening before: had my heart enlarged in praying for the advancement of the kingdom of Christ, and found the utmost freedom in leaving all my concerns with God. "I find discouragement to be an exceeding hinderance to my spiritual fervency and affection: but when God enables me sensibly to find that I have done something for him, this refreshes and animates me, so that I could break through all hardships, undergo any labours, and nothing seems too much either to do or to suffer. But oh, what a death it is, to strive, and strive; to be always in a hurry, and yet do nothing, or at least nothing for GOD! Alas, alas, that time flies away, and I do so little for God! "Lord's day, May 18. I felt my own utter insufficiency for my work: God made me to see that I was a child; yea, that I was a fool. I discoursed, both parts of the day, from Rev. iii. 20. "Behold, I stand at the door and knock." God gave me freedom and power in the latter part of my forenoon's discourse: although, in the former part of it, I felt peevish and provoked with the unmannerly behaviour of the white people, who crowded in between my people and me; which proved a great temptation to me. But blessed be God, I got these shackles off before the middle of my discourse, and was favoured with a sweet frame of spirit in the latter part of the exercise; was full of love, warmth, and tenderness, in addressing my dear people. In the intermission-season, could not but discourse to my people on the kindness and patience of Christ in standing and knocking at the door, &c. In the evening I was grieved that I had done so little for God. Oh that I could be a flame of fire in the service of my God!" Monday, May 19. See the public Journal. On Tuesday he complains of want of freedom and comfort; but had some return of these on Wednesday. "Thursday, May 22. In the evening was in a frame somewhat remarkable: had apprehended for several days before, that it was the design of Providence I should settle among my people here; and had in my own mind begun to make provision for it, and to contrive means to hasten it; and found my heart something engaged in it, hoping I might then enjoy more agreeable circumstances of life, in several respects: and yet was never fully determined, never quite pleased with the thoughts of being settled and confined to one place. Nevertheless I seemed to have some freedom in that respect, because the congregation I thought of settling with, was one that God had enabled me to gather from amongst pagans. For I never, since I began to preach, could feel any freedom to enter into other men's labours,' and settle down in the ministry where the gospel was preached before.' I never could make that appear to be my province: when I felt any disposition to consult my ease and worldly comfort, God has never given me any liberty in that respect, either since or for some years before I began to preach. But God having succeeded my labours, and made me instrumental in gathering a church for him among these Indians, I was ready to think, it might be his design to give me a quiet settlement and a stated home of my own. And this, considering the late frequent sinking and failure of my spirits, and the need I stood in of some agreeable society, and my great desire of enjoying conveniencies and opportunities for profitable studies, was not altogether disagreeable to me. Although I still wanted to go about far and wide, in order to spread the blessed gospel among benighted souls, far remote; yet I never had been so willing to settle in any one place, for more than five years past, as I was in the foregoing part of this week. But now these thoughts seemed to be wholly dashed to pieces; not by necessity, but of choice: for it appeared to me, that God's dealings towards me had fitted me for a life of solitariness and hardship; and that I had nothing to lose, nothing to do with earth, and consequently nothing to lose by a total renunciation of it. It appeared to me just right, that I should be destitute of house and home, and many comforts of life, which I rejoiced to see others of God's people enjoy. And at the same time, I saw so much of the excellency of Christ's kingdom, and the infinite desirableness of its advancement in the world, that it swallowed up all my other thoughts; and made me willing, yea, even rejoice, to be made a pilgrim or hermit in the wilderness, to my dying moment, if I might thereby promote the blessed interest of the great Redeemer. And if ever my soul presented itself to God for his service, without any reserve of any kind, it did so now. The language of my thoughts and disposition now was, 'Here I am, Lord, send me; send me to the ends of the earth; send me to the rough, the savage pagans of the wilderness; send me from all that is called comfort in earth, or earthly comfort; send me even to death itself, if it be but in thy service, and to promote thy kingdom.' And at the same time I had as quick and lively a sense of the value of worldly comforts, as ever I had; but only saw them infinitely overmatched by the worth of Christ's kingdom, and the propagation of his blessed gospel. The quiet settlement, the certain place of abode, the tender friendship, which I thought I might be likely to enjoy in consequence of such circumstances, appeared as valuable to me, considered absolutely and in themselves, as ever before; but considered comparatively, they appeared nothing. Compared with the value and preciousness of an enlargement of Christ's kingdom, they vanished like the stars before the rising sun. And sure I am, that although the comfortable accommodations of life appeared valuable and dear to me, yet I did surrender and resign myself, soul and body, to the service of God, and promotion of Christ's kingdom: though it should be in the loss of them all. And I could not do any other, because I could not will or choose any other. I was constrained, and yet chose, to say, Farewell, friends and earthly comforts, the dearest of them all, the very dearest, if the Lord calls for it; adieu, adieu; I will spend my life, to my latest moments, in caves and dens of the earth, if the kingdom of Christ may thereby be advanced.' I found extraordinary freedom at this time in pouring out my soul to God, for his cause; and especially that his kingdom might be extended among the Indians, far remote; and I had a great and strong hope, that God would do it. I continued wrestling with God in prayer for my dear little flock here; and more especially for the Indians elsewhere; as well as for dear friends in one place and another; till it was bed-time, and I feared I should hinder the family, &c. But oh, with what reluctancy did I find myself obliged to consume time in sleep! I longed to be as a flame of fire, continually glowing in the divine service, preaching and building up Christ's kingdom, to my latest, my dying moment. "Friday, May 23. In the morning was in the same frame of mind as in the evening before. The glory of Christ's kingdom so much outshone the pleasure of earthly accommodations and enjoyments, that they appeared comparatively nothing, though in themselves good and desirable. My soul was melted in secret meditation and prayer, and I found myself divorced from any part in this world: so that in those affairs that seemed of the greatest importance to me, in respect of the present life, and those wherein the tender powers of the mind are most sensibly touched, I could only say, The will of the Lord be done.' But just the same things that I felt the evening before, I felt now; and found the same freedom in prayer for the people of my charge, for the propagation of the gospel among the Indians, and for the enlargement and spiritual welfare of Zion in general, and my dear friends in particular, now, as I did then; and longed to burn out in one continued flame for God. Retained much of the same frame through the day. In the evening was visited by my brother John Brainerd; the first visit I have ever received from any near relative since I have been a missionary. Felt the same frame of spirit in the evening as in the morning; and found that it was good for me to draw near to God,' and leave all my concerns and burdens with him. Was enlarged and refreshed in pouring out my soul for the propagation of the gospel of the Redeemer among the distant tribes of Indians. Blessed be God. If ever I filled up a day with studies and devotion, I was enabled so to fill up this day. "Saturday, May 24. Enjoyed this day something of the same frame of mind as I felt the day before." Lord's day, May 25. See the public Journal. This week, at least the former part of it, he was in a very weak state: but yet seems to have been free from melancholy, which often had attended the failing of his bodily strength. He from time to time speaks of comfort and inward refreshment, this week. Lord's day, June 1. See the public Journal. "Monday, June 2. In the evening enjoyed some freedom in secret prayer and meditation. "Tuesday, June 3. My soul rejoiced, early in the morning, to think, that all things were at God's disposal. Oh, it pleased me to leave them there! Felt afterwards much as I did on Thursday evening, May 22, last; and continued in this frame for several hours. Walked out into the wilderness, and enjoyed freedom, fervency, and comfort in prayer; and again enjoyed the same in the evening. "Wednesday, June 4. Spent the day in writing, and enjoyed some comfort, satisfaction, and freedom in my work. In the evening I was favoured with a sweet refreshing frame of soul in secret prayer and meditation. Prayer was now wholly turned into praise, and I could do little else but try to adore and bless the living God. The wonders of his grace displayed in gathering to himself a church among the poor Indians here, were the subject matter of my meditation, and the occasion of exciting my soul to praise and bless his name. My soul was scarce ever more disposed to inquire, What I should render to God for all his benefits, than at this time. Oh, I was brought into a strait, a sweet and happy strait, to know what to do! I longed to make some returns to God; but found I had nothing to return: I could only rejoice, that God had done the work himself; and that none in heaven or earth might pretend to share the honour of it with him. I could only be glad, that God's declarative glory was advanced by the conversion of these souls, and that it was to the enlargement of his kingdom in the world: but saw I was so poor, that I had nothing to offer to him. My soul and body, through grace, I could cheerfully surrender to him: but it appeared to me, this was rather a cumber than a gift; and nothing could I do to glorify his dear and blessed name. Yet I was glad at heart that he was unchangeably possessed of glory and blessedness. Oh that he might be adored and praised by all his intelligent creatures, to the utmost of their power and capacities! M soul would have rejoiced to see others praise him, though I could do nothing towards it myself." The next day he speaks of his being subject to some degree. of melancholy; but of being somewhat relieved in the evening. Friday, June 6. See the public Journal. "Saturday, June 7. Rode to Freehold to assist Mr. Tennent in the administration of the Lord's supper. In the afternoon preached from Psal. lxxiii. 28. But it is good for me to draw near to God,' &c. God gave me some freedom and warmth in my discourse; and I trust his presence was in the assembly. Was comfortably composed, and enjoyed a thankful frame of spirit; and my soul was grieved that I could not render something to God for his benefits bestowed. O that I could be swallowed up in his praise! "Lord's day, June 8. Spent much time, in the morning, in secret duties; but between hope and fear, respecting the enjoyment of God in the business of the day then before us. Was agreeably entertained in the forenoon, by a discourse from Mr. Tennent, and felt somewhat melted and refreshed. In the season of communion, enjoyed some comfort; and especially in serving one of the tables. Blessed be the Lord, it was a time of refreshing to me, and I trust to many others. A number of my dear people sat down by themselves at the last table; at which time God seemed to be in the midst of them. And the thoughts of what God had done among them were refreshing and melting to me. In the afternoon God enabled me to preach with uncommon freedom, from 2 Cor. v. 20. Now then we are ambassadors for Christ,' &c. Through the great goodness of God, I was favoured with a constant flow of pertinent matter, and proper expressions, from the beginning to the end of my discourse. In the evening I could not but rejoice in God, and bless him for the manifestations of grace in the day past. Oh, it was a sweet and solemn day and evening! a season of comfort to the godly, and of awakening to some souls. Oh that I could praise the Lord! "Monday, June 9. Enjoyed some sweetness in secret duties. Preached the concluding sermon from Gen. v. 24. And Enoch walked with God,' &c. God gave me enlargement and fervency in my discourse; so that I was enabled to speak with plainness and power; and God's presence seemed to be in the assembly. Praised be the Lord, it was a sweet meeting, a desirable assembly. I found my strength renewed, and lengthened out, even to a wonder; so that I felt much stronger at the conclusion than in the beginning of this sacramental solemnity. I have great reason to bless God for this solemnity, wherein I have found assistance in addressing others, and sweetness in my own soul." On Tuesday he found himself spent and his spirits exhausted by his late labours; and on Wednesday complains of vapoury disorders, and dejection of spirit, and of enjoying but little comfort or spirituality. "Thursday, June 12. In the evening enjoyed freedom of mind, and some sweetness in secret prayer: it was a desirable season to me; my soul was enlarged in prayer for my own dear people, and for the enlargement of Christ's kingdom, and especially for the propagation of the gospel among the Indians, hack in the wilderness. Was refreshed in prayer for dear friends in New England, and elsewhere: I found it sweet to pray at this time; and could with all my heart say, It is good for me to draw near to God.' "Friday, June 13. I came away from the meeting of the Indians this day, rejoicing and blessing God for his grace manifested at this season. "Saturday, June 14. Rode to Kingston, to assist the Rev. Mr. Wales in the administration of the Lord's supper. In the afternoon preached; but, almost fainted in pulpit: yet God strengthened me when I was just gone, and enabled me to speak his word with freedom, fervency, and application to the conscience. And, praised be the Lord, out of weakness I was made strong.' I enjoyed some sweetness in and after public worship; but was extremely tired. Oh, how many are the mercies of the Lord! To them that have no might, he increaseth strength.' "Lord's day, June 15. Was in a dejected, spiritless flume, that I could not hold up my head, nor look any body in the face. Administered the Lord's supper at Mr. Wales's desire; and found myself in a good measure unburdened and relieved of my pressing load, when I came to ask a blessing on the elements: here God gave me enlargement, and a tender affectionate sense of spiritual things; so that it was a season of comfort, in some measure, to me, and, I trust, more so to others. In the afternoon preached to a vast multitude, from Rev. xxii. 17. And whosoever will,' &c. God helped me to offer a testimony for himself, and to leave sinners inexcusable in neglecting his grace. I was enabled to speak with such freedom, fluency, and clearness, as commanded the attention of the great. Was extremely tired, in the evening, but enjoyed composure and sweetness. "Monday, June 16. Preached again; and God helped me amazingly, so that this was a sweet, refreshing season to my soul and others. Oh, for ever blessed be God for help afforded at this time, when my body was so weak, and while there was so large an assembly to hear. Spent the afternoon in a comfortable, agreeable manner." The next day was spent comfortably. On Wednesday he went to a meeting of ministers at Hopewell. Thursday, June 19. See his public Journal. [400] On Friday and Saturday he was very much amiss; but yet preached to his people on Saturday. His illness continued on the sabbath; but he preached, notwithstanding, to his people both parts of the day; and after the public worship was ended, he endeavoured to apply divine truths to the consciences of some, and addressed them personally for that end; several were in tears, and some appeared much affected. But he was extremely wearied with the services of the day, and was so ill at night that he could have no bodily rest; but remarks, that "God was his support, and that he was not left destitute of comfort in him." On Monday he continued very ill, but speaks of his mind being calm and composed, resigned to the divine dispensations, and content with his feeble state. By the account he gives of himself, the remaining part of this week, he continued very feeble, for the most part dejected in mind. He enjoyed no great freedom nor sweetness in spiritual things; excepting that for some very short spaces of time he had refreshment and encouragement, which engaged his heart on divine things; and sometimes his heart was melted with spiritual affection. "Lord's day, June 29. Preached, both parts of the day, from John xiv. 19. Yet a little while, and the world seeth me no more,' &c. God was pleased to assist me, to afford me both freedom and power, especially towards the close of my discourses, both forenoon and afternoon. God's power appeared in the assembly, in both exercises. Numbers of God's people were refreshed and melted with divine things; one or two comforted, who had been long under distress: convictions, in divers instances, powerfully revived; and one man in years much awakened, who had not long frequented our meeting, and appeared before as stupid as a stock. God amazingly renewed and lengthened out my strength. I was so spent at noon, that I could scarce walk, and all my joints trembled; so that I could not sit, nor so much as hold my hand still: and yet God strengthened me to preach with power in the afternoon; although I had given out word to my people that I did not expect to be able to do it. Spent some time afterwards in conversing, particularly, with several persons, about their spiritual state; and had some satisfaction concerning one or two. Prayed afterwards with a sick child, and gave a word of exhortation. Was assisted in all my work. Blessed be God. Returned home with more health than I went out with; although my linen was wringing wet upon me, from a little after ten in the morning till past five in the afternoon. My spirits also were considerably refreshed; and my soul rejoiced in hope, that I had through grace done something for God. In the evening walked out, and enjoyed a sweet season in secret prayer and praise. But oh, I found the truth of the psalmist's words, My goodness extendeth not to thee!' I could not make any returns to God; I longed to live only to him, and to be in tune for his praise and service for ever. Oh, for spirituality and holy fervency, that I might spend and be spent for God to my latest moment! "Monday, June 30. Spent the day in writing; but under much weakness and disorder. Felt the labours of the preceding day; although my spirits were so refreshed the evening before, that I was not then sensible of my being spent. "Tuesday, July 1. In the afternoon visited and preached to my people, from Heb. ix. 27. And as it is appointed unto men once to die,' &c. on occasion of some persons lying at the point of death, in my congregation. God gave me some assistance; and his word made some impressions on the audience, in general. This was an agreeable and comfortable evening to my soul: my spirits were somewhat refreshed, with a small degree of freedom and help enjoyed in my work." On Wednesday he went to Newark, to a meeting of the Presbytery: complains of lowness of spirits; and greatly laments his spending his time so unfruitfully. The remaining part of the week he spent there and at Elizabeth-town; and speaks of comfort and divine assistance from day to day; but yet greatly complains for want of more spirituality. "Lord's day, July 6. [At Elizabeth-town] Enjoyed some composure and serenity of mind in the morning: heard Mr. Dickinson preach in the forenoon, and was refreshed with his discourse; was in a melting frame some part of the time of sermon: partook of the Lord's supper, and enjoyed some sense of divine things in that ordinance. In the afternoon I preached from Ezek. xxxiii. 11. As I live, saith the Lord God,' &c. God favoured me with freedom and fervency; and helped me to plead his cause beyond my own power. "Monday, July 7. My spirits were considerably refreshed and raised in the morning. There is no comfort, I find, in any enjoyment, without enjoying God, and being engaged in his service. In the evening had the most agreeable conversation that ever I remember in all my life, upon God's being all in all, and all enjoyments being just that to us which God makes them, and no more. It is good to begin and end with God. Oh, how does a sweet solemnity lay a foundation for true pleasure and happiness! "Tuesday, July 8. Rode home, and enjoyed some agreeable meditations by the way. "Wednesday, July 9. Spent the day in writing; enjoyed some comfort and refreshment of spirit in my evening retirement. "Thursday, July 10. Spent most of the day in writing. Towards night rode to Mr. Tennent's; enjoyed some agreeable conversation: went home, in the evening, in a solemn, sweet frame of mind; was refreshed in secret duties, longed to live wholly and only for God, and saw plainly there was nothing in the world worthy of my affection; so that my heart was dead to all below; yet not through dejection, as at some times, but from views of a better inheritance. "Friday, July 11. Was in a calm, composed frame in the morning, especially in the season of my secret retirement. I think I was well pleased with the will of God, whatever it was, or should be, in all respects I had then any thought of. Intending to administer the Lord's supper the next Lord's day, I looked to God for his presence and assistance upon that occasion; but felt a disposition to say, The will of the Lord be done,' whether it be to give me assistance, or not. Spent some little time in writing: visited the Indians, and spent some time in serious conversation with them; thinking it not best to preach, many of them being absent. "Saturday, July 12. This day was spent in fasting and prayer by my congregation, as preparatory to the sacrament. I discoursed, both parts of the day, from Rom. iv. 25. Who was delivered for our offences,' &c. God gave me some assistance in my discourses, and something of divine power attended the word; so that this was an agreeable season. Afterwards led them to a solemn renewal of their covenant, and fresh dedication of themselves to God. This was a season both of solemnity and sweetness, and God seemed to be in the midst of us.' Returned to my lodgings, in the evening, in a comfortable frame of mind. "Lord's day, July 13. In the forenoon discoursed on the bread of life, from John vi. 35. God gave me some assistance, in part of my discourse especially; and there appeared some tender affection in the assembly under divine truths; my soul also was somewhat refreshed. Administered the sacrament of the Lord's supper to thirty-one persons of the Indians. God seemed to be present in this ordinance; the communicants were sweetly melted and refreshed, most of them. Oh, how they melted, even when the elements were first uncovered! There was scarcely a dry eye among them when I took off the linen, and showed them the symbols of Christ's broken body. Having rested a little, after the administration of the sacrament, I visited the communicants, and found them generally in a sweet, loving frame; not unlike what appeared among them on the former sacramental occasion, on April 27. In the afternoon, discoursed upon coming to Christ, and the satisfaction of those who do so, from the same verse I insisted on in the forenoon. This was likewise an agreeable season, a season of much tenderness, affection, and enlargement in divine service; and God, I am persuaded, crowned our assembly with his divine presence. I returned home much spent, yet rejoicing in the goodness of God. "Monday, July 14. Went to my people, and discoursed to them from Psal. cxix. 106. I have sworn, and I will perform it,' &c. Observed, 1. That all God's judgments or commandments are righteous. 2. That God's people have sworn to keep them; and this they do especially at the Lord's table. There appeared to be a powerful divine influence on the assembly, and considerable melting under the word. Afterwards I led them to a renewal of their covenant before God, (that they would watch over themselves and one another, lest they should fall into sin and dishonour the name of Christ,) just as I did on Monday, April 28. This transaction was attended with great solemnity; and God seemed to own it by exciting in them a fear and jealousy of themselves, lest they should sin against God; so that the presence of God seemed to be amongst us in this conclusion of the sacramental solemnity." The next day he set out on a journey towards Philadelphia; from whence he did not return till Saturday. He went this journey, and spent the week, under a great degree of illness of body, and dejection of mind. "Lord's day, July 20. Preached twice to my people, from John xvii. 24. Father, I will that they also, whom thou hast given me, be with me where I am; that they may behold my glory, which thou hast given me.' Was helped to discourse with great clearness and plainness in the forenoon. In the afternoon, enjoyed some tenderness, and spake with some influence. Divers were in tears; and some, to appearance, in distress. "Monday, July 21. Preached to the Indians, chiefly for the sake of some strangers. Then proposed my design of taking a journey speedily to Susquehannah: exhorted my people to pray for me, that God would be with me in that journey, &e. Then chose divers persons of the congregation to travel with me. Afterwards spent some time in discoursing to the strangers, and was somewhat encouraged with them. Took care of my people's secular business, and was not a little exercised with it. Had some degree of composure and comfort in secret retirement. "Tuesday, July 22. Was in a dejected frame most of the day: wanted to wear out life, and have it at an end; but had some desires of living to God, and wearing out life for him. Oh that I could indeed do so!" The next day, he went to Elizabeth-town, to a meeting of the Presbytery; and spent this, and Thursday, and the former part of Friday, under a very great degree of melancholy, and exceeding gloominess of mind; not through any fear of future punishment, but as being distressed with a senselessness of all good, so that the whole world appeared empty and gloomy to him. But in the latter part of Friday he was greatly relieved and comforted. "Saturday, July 26. Was comfortable in the morning; my countenance and heart were not sad, as in days past; enjoyed some sweetness in lifting up my heart to God. Rode home to my people, and was in a comfortable, pleasant frame by the way; my spirits were much relieved of their burden, and I felt free to go through all difficulties and labours in my Master's service. "Lord's day, July 27. Discoursed to my people, in the forenoon, from sp Luke xii. 37. on the duty and benefit of watching: God helped me in the latter part of my discourse, and the power of God appeared in the assembly. In the afternoon discoursed from Luke xiii. 25. When once the master of the house is risen up,' &c. Here also I enjoyed some assistance, and the Spirit of God seemed to attend what was spoken, so that there was a great solemnity, and some tears among Indians and others. "Monday, July 28. Was very weak, and scarce able to perform any business at all; but enjoyed sweetness and comfort in prayer, both morning and evening; and was composed and comfortable through the day: my mind was intense, and my heart fervent, at least in some degree, in secret duties; and I longed to spend and be spent for God. "Tuesday, July 29. My mind was cheerful, and free from those melancholy damps that I am often exercised with: had freedom in looking up to God at sundry times in the day. In the evening I enjoyed a comfortable season in secret prayer; was helped to plead with God for my own dear people, that he would carry on his own blessed work among them; was assisted also in praying for the divine presence to attend me in my intended journey to Susquehannah; add was helped to remember dear brethren and friends in New England. I scarce knew how to leave the throne of grace, and it grieved me that I was obliged to go to bed; I longed to do something for God, but knew not how. Blessed be God for this freedom from dejection. "Wednesday, July 30. Was uncommonly comfortable, both in body and mind; in the forenoon especially: my mind was solemn, I was assisted in my work, and God seemed to be near to me; so that the day was as comfortable as most I have enjoyed for some time. In the evening was favoured with assistance in secret prayer, and felt much as I did the evening before. Blessed be God for that freedom I then enjoyed at the throne of grace, for myself, my people, and my dear friends. It is good for me to draw near to God." He seems to have continued very much in the same free, comfortable state of mind the next day. "Friday, Aug. 1. In the evening enjoyed a sweet season in secret prayer; clouds of darkness and perplexing care were sweetly scattered, and nothing anxious remained. Oh, how serene was my mind at this season! how free from that distracting concern I have often felt! Thy will be done,' was a petition sweet to my soul; and if God had bidden me choose for myself in any affair, I should have chosen rather to have referred the choice to him; for I saw he was infinitely wise, and could not do any thing amiss, as I was in danger of doing. Was assisted in prayer for my dear flock, that God would promote his own work among them, and that God would go with me in my intended journey to Susquehannah: was helped to remember dear friends in New England, and my dear brethren in the ministry. I found enough in the sweet duty of prayer to have engaged me to continue in it the whole night, would my bodily state have admitted of it. Oh, how sweet it is to be enabled heartily to say Lord, not my will, but thine be done! "Saturday, Aug. 2. Near night preached from Matt xi. 29. Take my yoke upon you,' &c. Was considerably helped; and the presence of God seemed to be somewhat remarkably in the assembly; divine truths made powerful impressions, both upon saints and sinners. Blessed be God for such a revival among us. In the evening was very weary, but found my spirits supported and refreshed. "Lord's day, Aug. 3. Discoursed to my people, in the forenoon, from Col. iii. 4. and observed, that Christ is the believer's life. God helped me, and gave me his presence in this discourse; and it was a season of considerable power in the assembly. In the afternoon preached from Luke xix. 41, 42. And when he was come near, he beheld the city,' &c. I enjoyed some assistance; though not so much as in the forenoon. In the evening I enjoyed freedom and sweetness in secret prayer; God enlarged my heart, freed me from melancholy damps, and gave me satisfaction in drawing near to himself. Oh that my soul could magnify the Lord, for these seasons of composure and resignation to his will! "Monday, Aug. 4. Spent the day in writing; enjoyed much freedom and assistance in my work: was in a composed and comfortable frame most of the day; and in the evening enjoyed some sweetness in prayer. Blessed be God, my spirits were yet up, and I was free from sinking damps; as I have been in general ever since I came from Elizabeth-town last. Oh what a mercy is this! "Tuesday, Aug. 5. Towards night preached at the funeral of one of my Christians, from Isa. lvii. 2. He shall enter into peace,' &c. I was oppressed with the nervous headache, and considerably dejected: however, had a little freedom some part of the time I was discoursing. Was extremely weary in the evening; but notwithstanding, enjoyed some liberty and cheerfulness of mind in prayer; and found the dejection that I feared, much removed, and my spirits considerably refreshed." He continued in a very comfortable, cheerful frame of mind the next day, with his heart enlarged in the service of God. "Thursday, Aug. 7. Rode to my house, where I spent the last winter, in order to bring some things I needed for my Susquehannah journey: was refreshed to see that place, which God so marvellously visited with the showers of his grace. Oh how amazing did the power of God often appear there! Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits." The next day he speaks of liberty, enlargement, and sweetness of mind in prayer and religious conversation. "Saturday, Aug. 9. In the afternoon visited my people; set their affairs in order, as much as possible, and contrived for them the management of their worldly business; discoursed to them in a solemn manner, and concluded with prayer. Was composed and comfortable in the evening, and somewhat fervent in secret prayer; had some sense and view of the eternal world, and round a serenity of mind. Oh that I could magnify the Lord for any freedom he affords me in prayer! "Lord's day, Aug. 10. Discoursed to my people, both parts of the day, from Acts iii. 19. Repent ye, therefore,' &c. In discoursing of repentance in the forenoon, God helped me, so that my discourse was searching; some were in tears, both of the Indians and white people, and the word of God was attended with some power. In the intermission I was engaged in discoursing to some in order to their baptism; as well as with one who had then lately met with some comfort, after spiritual trouble and distress. In the afternoon was somewhat assisted again, though weak and weary. Afterwards baptized six persons; three adults, and three children. Was in a comfortable frame in the evening, and enjoyed some satisfaction in secret prayer. I scarce ever in my life felt myself so full of tenderness as this day. "Monday, Aug. 11. Being about to set out on a journey to Susquehannah the next day, with leave of Providence, I spent some time this day in prayer with my people, that God would bless and succeed my intended journey; that he would send forth his blessed Spirit with his word, and set up his kingdom among the poor Indians in the wilderness. While I was opening and applying part of the 110th and 2d Psalms, the power of God seemed to descend on the assembly in some measure; and while I was making the first prayer, numbers were melted, and I found some affectionate enlargement of soul myself. Preached from Acts iv. 31. And when they had prayed, the place was shaken,' &c. God helped me, and my interpreter also: there was a shaking and melting among us; and divers, I doubt not, were in some measure filled with the Holy Ghost.' Afterwards Mr. Macknight prayed: I then opened the two last stanzas of the 72d Psalm; at which time God was present with us; especially while I insisted upon the promise of all nations blessing the great Redeemer. My soul was refreshed to think, that this day, this blessed glorious season, should surely come; and I trust, numbers of my dear people were also refreshed. Afterwards prayed; had some freedom, but was almost spent: then walked out, and left my people to carry on religious exercises among themselves: they prayed repeatedly, and sung, while I rested and refreshed myself. Afterwards went to the meeting; prayed with and dismissed the assembly. Blessed be God, this has been a day of grace. There were many tears and affectionate sobs among us this day. In the evening my soul was refreshed in prayer: enjoyed liberty at the throne of grace, in praying for my people and friends, and the church of God in general. Bless the Lord, O my soul." The next day he set out on his journey towards Susquehannah, and six of his Christian Indians with him, whom be had chosen out of his congregation, as those that he judged most fit to assist him in the business he was going upon. He took his way through Philadelphia; intending to go to Susquehannah river, far down, where it is settled by the white people, below the country inhabited by the Indians; and so to travel up the river to the Indian habitations. For although this was much farther about, yet hereby he avoided the huge mountains, and hideous wilderness, that must be crossed in the nearer way; which in time past he found to be extremely difficult and fatiguing. He rode this week as far as Charlestown, a place of that name about thirty miles westward of Philadelphia; where he arrived on Friday: and in his way hither was, for the most part, in a composed, comfortable state of mind. "Saturday, Aug. 16. [At Charlestown] It being a day kept by the people of the place where I now was, as preparatory to the celebration of the Lord's supper, I tarried; heard Mr. Treat preach; and then preached myself. God gave me some good degree of freedom, and helped me to discourse with warmth, and application to the conscience. Afterwards I was refreshed in spirit, though much tired; and spent the evening agreeably, having some freedom in prayer, as well as Christian conversation. "Lord's day, Aug. 17. Enjoyed liberty, composure, and satisfaction, in the secret duties of the morning: had my heart somewhat enlarged in prayer for dear friends, as well as for myself. In the forenoon attended Mr. Treat's preaching, partook of the Lord's supper, five of my people also communicating in this holy ordinance: I enjoyed some enlargement and outgoing of soul in this season. In the afternoon preached from Ezek. xxxiii. 11. Say unto them, As I live, saith the Lord God,' &c. Enjoyed not so much sensible assistance as the day before: however, was helped to some fervency in addressing immortal souls. Was somewhat confounded in the evening, because I thought I had done little or nothing for God; yet enjoyed some refreshment of spirit in Christian conversation and prayer. Spent the evening, till near midnight, in religious exercises; and found my bodily strength, which was much spent when I came from the public worship, something renewed before I went to bed. "Monday, Aug. 18. Rode on my way towards Paxton, upon Susquehannah river. Felt my spirits sink, towards night, so that I had little comfort. "Tuesday, Aug. 19. Rode forward still; and at night lodged by the side of Susquehannah. Was weak and disordered both this and the preceding day, and found my spirits considerably damped, meeting with none that I thought godly people. "Wednesday, Aug. 20. Having lain in a cold sweat all night, I coughed much bloody matter this morning, and was under great disorder of body, and not a little melancholy; but what gave me some encouragement, was, I had a secret hope that I might speedily get a dismission from earth, and all its toils and sorrows. Rode this day to one Chambers', upon Susquehannah, and there lodged. Was much afflicted, in the evening, with an ungodly crew, drinking, swearing, &c. Oh, what a hell would it be, to be numbered with the ungodly! Enjoyed some agreeable conversation with a traveller, who seemed to have some relish of true religion. "Thursday, Aug. 21. Rode up the river about fifteen miles, and there lodged, in a family that appeared quite destitute of God. Laboured to discourse with the man about the life of religion, but found him very artful in evading such conversation. Oh, what a death it is to some to hear of the things of God! Was out of my element; but was not so dejected as at some times. "Friday, Aug. 22. Continued my course up the river; my people now being with me, who before were parted from me; travelled above all the English settlements; at night lodged in the open woods; and slept with more comfort than while among an ungodly company of white people. Enjoyed some liberty in secret prayer this evening; and was helped to remember dear friends, as well as my dear flock, and the church of God in general. "Saturday, Aug. 23. Arrived at the Indian town, called Shaumoking, near night. Was not so dejected as formerly; but yet somewhat exercised. Felt somewhat composed in the evening; enjoyed some freedom in leaving my all with God. Through the great goodness of God, I enjoyed some liberty of mind; and was not distressed with a despondency, as frequently heretofore. "Lord's day, Aug. 24. Towards noon, visited some of the Delawares, and discoursed with them about Christianity. In the afternoon discoursed to the king, and others, upon divine things; who seemed to dispose to hear. Spent most of the day in these exercises. In the evening enjoyed some comfort and satisfaction; and especially had some sweetness in secret prayer. This duty was made so agreeable to me, that I loved to walk abroad and repeatedly engage in it. Oh, how comfortable is a little glimpse of God! "Monday, Aug. 25. Spent most of the day in writing. Sent out my people that were with me, to talk with the Indians, and contract a friendship and familiarity with them, that I might have a better opportunity of treating with them about Christianity. Some good seemed to be done by their visit this day, divers appeared willing to hearken to Christianity. My spirits were a little refreshed this evening; and I found some liberty and satisfaction in prayer. "Tuesday, Aug. 26. About noon discoursed to a considerable number of Indians: God helped me, I am persuaded: I was enabled to speak with much plainness, and some warmth and power. The discourse had impression upon some, and made them appear very serious. I thought things now appeared as encouraging, as they did at Crossweeks. At the time of my first visit to those Indians, I was a little encouraged: I pressed things with all my might; and called out my people, who were then present, to give in their testimony for God; which they did. Towards night was refreshed; felt a heart to pray for the setting up of God's kingdom here; as well as for my dear congregation below, and my dear friends elsewhere. "Wednesday, Aug. 27. There having been a thick smoke in the house where I lodged all night before, whereby I was almost choked, I was this morning distressed with pains in my head and neck, and could have no rest. In the morning the smoke was still the same; and a cold easterly storm gathering, I could neither live within doors nor without any long time together. I was pierced with the rawness of the air abroad, and in the house distressed with the smoke. I was this day very vapoury, and lived in great distress, and had not health enough to do any thing to any purpose. "Thursday, Aug. 28. In the forenoon I was under great concern of mind about my work. Was visited by some who desired to hear me preach; discoursed to them, in the afternoon, with some fervency, and laboured to persuade them to turn to God. Was full of concern for the kingdom of Christ, and found some enlargement of soul in prayer, both in secret and in my family. Scarce ever saw more clearly, than this day, that it is God's work to convert souls, and especially poor heathens. I knew I could not touch them; I saw I could only speak to dry bones, but could give them no sense of what I said. My eyes were up to God for help: I could say, the work was his; and if done, the glory would be his. "Friday, Aug. 29. Felt the same concern of mind as the day before. Enjoyed some freedom in prayer, and a satisfaction to leave all with God. Travelled to the Delawares, found few at home: felt poorly, but was able to spend some time alone in reading God's word and in prayer, and enjoyed some sweetness in these exercises. In the evening was assisted repeatedly in prayer, and found some comfort in coming to the throne of grace. "Saturday, Aug. 30. Spent the forenoon in visiting a trader, that came down the river sick; who appeared as ignorant as any Indian. In the afternoon spent some time in writing, reading, and prayer. "Lord's day, Aug. 31. Spent much time in the morning in secret duties: found a weight upon my spirits, and could not but cry to God with concern and engagement of soul. Spent some time also in reading and expounding God's word to my dear family, that was with me, as well as in singing and prayer with them. Afterwards, spake the word of God to some few of the Susquehannah Indians. In the afternoon felt very weak and feeble. Near night was something refreshed in mind, with some views of things relating to my great work. Oh, how heavy is my work, when faith cannot take hold of an almighty arm, for the performance of it! Many times have I been ready to sink in this case. Blessed be God, that I may repair to a full fountain. "Monday, Sept. 1. Set out on a journey towards a place called The great island, about fifty miles distant from Shaumoking, in the north-western branch of Susquehannah. Travelled some part of the way, and at night lodged in the woods. Was exceeding feeble this day, and sweat much the night following. "Tuesday, Sept. 2. Rode forward; but no faster than my people went on foot. Was very weak, on this as well as the preceding days. I was so feeble and faint, that I feared it would kill me to lie out in the open air; and some of our company being parted from us, so that we had now no axe with us, I had no way but to climb into a young pine-tree, and with my knife to lop the branches, and so made a shelter from the dew. But the evening being cloudy, and very likely for rain, I was still under fears of being extremely exposed: sweat much in the night, so that my linen was almost wringing wet all night. I scarce ever was more weak and weary than this evening, when I was able to sit up at all. This was a melancholy situation I was in; but I endeavoured to quiet myself with considerations of the possibility of my being in much worse circumstances, amongst enemies, &c. "Wednesday, Sept. 3. Rode to the Delaware-town; found divers drinking and drunken. Discoursed with some of the Indians about Christianity; observed my interpreter much engaged and assisted in his work; some few persons seemed to hear with great earnestness and engagement of soul. About noon rode to a small town of Shauwaunoes, about eight miles distant; spent an hour or two there, and returned to the Delaware-town, and lodged there. Was scarce ever more confounded with a sense of my own unfruitfulness and unfitness for my work, than now. Oh, what a dead, heartless, barren, unprofitable wretch did I now see myself to be! My spirits were so low, and my bodily strength so wasted, that I could do nothing at all. At length, being much overdone, lay down on a buffalo-skin; but sweat much the whole night. Thursday, Sept. 4. Discoursed with the Indians, in the morning, about Christianity; my interpreter, afterwards, carrying on the discourse to a considerable length. Some few appeared well-disposed, and somewhat affected. Left this place, and returned towards Shaumoking; and at night lodged in the place where I lodged the Monday night before: was in very uncomfortable circumstances in the evening, my people being belated, and not coming to me till past ten at night; so that I had no fire to dress any victuals, or to keep me warm, or keep off wild beasts; and I was scarce ever more weak and worn out in all my life. However, I lay down and slept before my people came up, expecting nothing else but to spend the whole night alone, and without fire. "Friday, Sept. 5. Was exceeding weak, so that I could scarcely ride; it seemed sometimes as if I must fall off from my horse, and lie in the open woods: however, got to Shaumoking towards night: felt something of a spirit of thankfulness, that God had so far returned me: was refreshed to see one of my Christians, whom I left here in my late excursion. "Saturday, Sept. 6. Spent the day in a very weak state; coughing and spitting blood, and having little appetite to any food I had with me: was able to do very little, except discourse a while of divine things to my own people, and to some few I met with. Had, by this time, very little life or heart to speak for God, through feebleness of body, and flatness of spirits. Was scarcely ever more ashamed and confounded in myself, than now. I was sensible, that there were numbers of God's people, who knew I was then out upon a design (or at least the pretence) of doing something for God, and in his cause, among the poor Indians; and they were ready to suppose, that I was fervent in spirit: but oh, the heartless frame of mind that I felt filled me with confusion! Oh (methought) if God's people knew me, as God knows, they would not think so highly of my zeal and resolution for God, as perhaps now they do! I could not but desire they should see how heartless and irresolute I was, that they might be undeceived, and not think of me above what they ought to think.' And yet I thought, if they saw the utmost of my flatness and unfaithfulness, the smallness of my courage and resolution for God, they would be ready to shut me out of their doors, as unworthy of the company or friendship of Christians. "Lord's day, Sept. 7. Was much in the same weak state of body, and afflicted frame of mind, as in the preceding day: my soul was grieved, and mourned that I could do nothing for God. Read and expounded some part of God's word to my own dear family, and spent some time in prayer with them; discoursed also a little to the pagans: but spent the sabbath with a little comfort. "Monday, Sept. 8. Spent the forenoon among the Indians; in the afternoon left Shaumoking, and returned down the river a few miles. Had proposed to have tarried a considerable time longer among the Indians upon Susquehannah; but was hindered from pursuing my purpose by the sickness that prevailed there, the weakly circumstances of my own people that were with me, and especially my own extraordinary weakness, having been exercised with great nocturnal sweats, and a coughing up of blood, in almost the whole of the journey. I was a great part of the time so feeble and faint, that it seemed as though I never should be able to reach home; and at the same time very destitute of the comforts, and even necessaries, of life; at least, what was necessary for one in so weak a state. In this journey I sometimes was enabled to speak the word of God with some power, and divine truths made some impressions on divers that heard me; so that several, both men and women, old and young, seemed to cleave to us, and be well disposed towards Christianity; but others mocked and shouted, which damped those who before seemed friendly, at least some of them. Yet God, at times, was evidently present, assisting me, my interpreter, and other dear friends who were with me. God gave, sometimes, a good degree of freedom in prayer for the ingathering of souls there; and I could riot but entertain a strong hope, that the journey should not be wholly fruitless. Whether the issue of it would be the setting up of Christ's kingdom there, or only the drawing of some few persons down to my congregation in New Jersey; or whether they were now only being prepared for some further attempts, that might be made among them, I did not determine: but I was persuaded the journey would not be lost. Blessed be God, that I had any encouragement and hope. "Tuesday, Sept. 9. Rode down the river near thirty miles. Was extremely weak, much fatigued, and wet with a thunder-storm. Discoursed with some warmth and closeness to some poor ignorant souls, on the life and power of religion; what were, and what were not, the evidences of it. They seemed much astonished when they saw my Indians ask a blessing and give thanks at dinner; concluding that a very high evidence of grace in them: but were astonished when I insisted that neither that, nor yet secret prayer, was any sure evidence of grace. Oh the ignorance of the world! How are some empty outward forms, that may all be entirely selfish, mistaken for true religion, infallible evidences of it! The Lord pity a deluded world! "Wednesday, Sept. 10. Rode near twenty miles homeward. Was much solicited to preach, but was utterly unable, through bodily weakness. Was extremely overdone with the heat and showers this day, and coughed up a considerable quantity of blood. "Thursday, Sept. 11. Rode homeward; but was very weak, and sometimes scarce able to ride. Had a very importunate invitation to preach at a meeting-house I came by, the people being then gathering; but could not, by reason of weakness. Was resigned and composed under my weakness; but was much exercised with concern for my companions in travel, whom I had left with much regret, some lame, and some sick. "Friday, Sept. 12. Rode about fifty miles; and came just at night to a Christian friend's house, about twenty-five miles westward from Philadelphia. Was courteously received, and kindly entertained, and found myself much refreshed in the midst of my weakness and fatigues. "Saturday, Sept. 13. Was still agreeably entertained with Christian friendship, and all things necessary for my weak circumstances. In the afternoon heard Mr. Treat preach; and was refreshed in conversation with him in the evening. "Lord's day, Sept. 14. At the desire of Mr. Treat and the people, I preached both parts of the day (but short) from Luke xiv. 23. And the Lord said unto the servant, go out,' &c. God gave me some freedom and warmth in my discourse; and, I trust, helped me in some measure to labour in singleness of heart. Was much tired in the evening, but was comforted with the most tender treatment I ever met with in my life. My mind through the whole of this day was exceeding calm; and I could ask for nothing in prayer, with any encouragement of soul, but that the will of God might be done.' "Monday, Sept. 15. Spent the whole day in concert with Mr. Treat, in endeavours to compose a difference, subsisting between certain persons in the congregation where we now were; and there seemed to be a blessing on our endeavours. In the evening baptized a child: was in a calm, composed frame, and enjoyed, I trust, a spiritual sense of divine things, while administering the ordinance. Afterwards spent the time in religious conversation, till late in the night. This was indeed a pleasant, agreeable evening. "Tuesday, Sept. 16. Continued still at my friend's house, about twenty-five miles westward of Philadelphia. Was very weak, unable to perform any business, and scarcely able to sit up. Wednesday, Sept. 17. Rode into Philadelphia. Still very weak, and my cough and spitting of blood continued. Enjoyed some agreeable conversation with friends, but wanted more spirituality. "Thursday, Sept. 18. Went from Philadelphia to Mr. Treat's: was agreeably entertained on the road: and was in a sweet, composed frame, in the evening. Friday, Sept. 19. Rode from Mr. Treat's to Mr. Stockston's at Prince-town: was extremely weak, but kindly received and entertained. Spent the evening with some degree of satisfaction. "Saturday, Sept. 20. Arrived among my own people, just at night: found them praying together; went in, and gave them some account of God's dealings with me and my companions in the journey; which seemed affecting to them. I then prayed with them, and thought the divine presence was amongst us; divers were melted into tears, and seemed to have a sense of divine things. Being very weak, I was obliged soon to repair to my lodgings, and felt much worn out in the evening. Thus God has carried me through the fatigues and perils of another journey to Susquehannah, and returned me again in safety, though under a great degree of bodily indisposition. Oh that my soul were truly thankful for renewed instances of mercy! Many hardships and distresses I endured in this journey; but the Lord supported me under them all." __________________________________________________________________ [397] This is the third house that he built to dwell in by himself among the Indians: the first at Kaunaumeek in the county of Albany; the second at the Forks of Delaware in Pennsylvania, and now this at Crossweeksung in New Jersey. [398] On the first of these days he wrote the sixth letter published among his remains. [399] This day he entered into the 29th year of his age [400] The public Journal that has been so often referred to, concludes with the account of this day. __________________________________________________________________ PART VIII. AFTER HIS RETURN FROM HIS LAST JOURNEY TO SUSQUEHANNAH, UNTIL HIS DEATH. HITHERTO Mr. Brainerd had kept a constant diary, giving an account of what passed from day to day, with very little interruption: but henceforward his diary is very much interrupted by his illness; under which he was often brought so low, as either not to be capable of writing, or not well able to bear the burden of a care so constant, as was requisite, to recollect every evening what had passed in the day, and digest it, and set down an orderly account of it in writing. However, his diary was not wholly neglected; but he took care, from time to time, to take some notice in it of the most material things concerning himself and the state of his mind, even till within a few days of his death; as the reader will see afterwards. [401] "Lord's day, Sept. 21, 1746. I was so weak I could not preach, nor pretend to ride over to my people in the forenoon. In the afternoon rode out; sat in my chair, and discoursed to my people from Rom. xiv. 7, 8. For none of us liyeth to himself,' &c. I was strengthened and helped in my discourse; and there appeared something agreeable in the assembly. I returned to my lodgings extremely tired; but thankful that I had been enabled to speak a word to my poor people I had been so long absent from. Was able to sleep very little this night, through weariness and pain. Oh, how blessed should I be, if the little I do were all done with right views! Oh that, whether I live, I might live to the Lord,' &c. "Saturday, Sept. 27. Spent this day, as well as the whole week past, under a great degree of bodily weakness, exercised with a violent cough, and a considerable fever. I had no appetite to any kind of food; and frequently brought up what I ate, as soon as it was down; and oftentimes had little rest in my bed by reason of pains in my breast and back. I was able, however, to ride over to my people about two miles every day, and take some care of those who were then at work upon a small house for me to reside in amongst the Indians. [402] I was sometimes scarce able to walk, and never able to sit up the whole day, through the week. Was calm and composed, and but little exercised with melancholy damps, as in former seasons of weakness. Whether I should ever recover or no, seemed very doubtful; but this was many times a comfort to me, that life and death did not depend upon my choice. I was pleased to think, that he who is infinitely wise, had the determination of this matter; and that I had no trouble to consider and weigh things upon all sides, in order to make the choice, whether I should live or die. Thus my time was consumed; I had little strength to pray, none to write or read, and scarce any to meditate: but through divine goodness, I could with great composure look death in the face, and frequently with sensible joy. Oh how blessed it is, to be habitually prepared for death! The Lord grant that I may be actually ready also! "Lord's day, Sept. 28. Rode to my people; and, though under much weakness, attempted to preach from 2 Cor. xiii. 5. Examine yourselves,' &c. Discoursed about half an hour; at which season divine power seemed to attend the word: but being extremely weak, I was obliged to desist: and after a turn of faintness, with much difficulty rode to my lodgings; where betaking myself to my bed, I lay in a burning fever, and almost delirious, for several hours; till towards morning my fever went off with a violent sweat. I have often been feverish, and unable to rest quietly after preaching; but this was the most severe, distressing turn that ever preaching brought upon me. Yet I felt perfectly at rest in my own mind, because I had made my utmost attempts to speak for God, and knew I could do no more. "Tuesday, Sept. 30. Yesterday, and to-day, was in the same weak state, or rather weaker than in days past; was scarce able to sit up half the day. Was in a composed frame of mind, remarkably free from dejection and melancholy damps; as God has been pleased, in a great measure, to deliver me from these unhappy glooms, in the general course of my present weakness hitherto, and also from a peevish, froward spirit. And oh how great a mercy is this! Oh that I might always be perfectly quiet in seasons of greatest weakness, although nature should sink and fail! Oh that I may always be able with utmost sincerity to say, Lord, not my will, but thine be done!' This, through grace, I can say at present, with regard to life or death, The Lord do with me as seems good in his sight;' that whether I live or die, I may glorify him, who is worthy to receive blessing, and honour, and dominion for ever. Amen.' "Saturday, Oct. 4. Spent the former part of this week under a great degree of infirmity and disorder, as I had done several weeks before: was able, however, to ride a little every day, although unable to sit up half the day, till Thursday. Took some care daily of some persons at work upon my house. On Friday afternoon found myself wonderfully revived and strengthened; and having some time before given notice to my people, and those of them at the Forks of Delaware in particular, that I designed, with leave of Providence, to administer the sacrament of the Lord's supper upon the first sabbath in October, the sabbath now approaching, on Friday afternoon I preached, preparatory to the sacrament, from 2 Cor. xiii. 5. finishing what I had proposed to offer upon the subject the sabbath before. The sermon was blessed of God to the stirring up religious affection, and a spirit of devotion, in the people of God; and to the greatly affecting one who had backslidden from God, which caused him to judge and condemn himself. I was surprisingly strengthened in my work while I was speaking: but was obliged immediately after to repair to bed, being now removed into my own house among the Indians; which gave me such speedy relief and refreshment, as I could not well have lived without. Spent some time on Friday night in conversing with my people about divine things, as I lay upon my bed; and found my soul refreshed, though my body was weak. This being Saturday, I discoursed particularly with divers of the communicants; and this afternoon preached from Zech. xii. 10. And I will pour on the house of David,' &c. There seemed to be a tender melting, and hearty mourning for sin, in numbers in the congregation. My soul was in a comfortable frame, and I enjoyed freedom and assistance in public service; was myself, as well as most of the congregation, much affected with the humble confession and apparent broken-heartedness of the forementioned backslider; and could not but rejoice, that God had given him such a sense of his sin and unworthiness. Was extremely tired in the evening; but lay on my bed, and discoursed to my people. "Lord's day, Oct. 5. Was still very weak; and in the morning considerably afraid I should not be able to go through the work of the day; having much to do, both in private and public. Discoursed before the administration of the sacrament, from John i. 29.'Behold the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of the world.' Where I considered, I. In what respects Christ is called the Lamb of God: and observed that he is so called, (1.) From the purity and innocence of his nature. (2.) From his meekness and patience under sufferings. (3.) From his being that atonement, which was pointed out in the sacrifice of lambs, and in particular by the paschal lamb. II. Considered how and in what sense he takes away the sin of the world:' and observed, that the means and manner, in and by which he takes away the sins of men, was his giving himself for them,' doing and suffering in their room and stead, &c. And he is said to take away the sin of the world, not because all the world shall actually be redeemed from sin by him; but because, (1.) He has done and suffered sufficient to answer for the sins of the world, and so to redeem all mankind. (2.) He actually does take away the sins of the elect world. And, III. Considered how we are to behold him, in order to have our sins taken away. (1.) Not with our bodily eyes. Nor, (2.) By imagining him on the cross, &c. But by a spiritual view of his glory and goodness, engaging the soul to rely on him, &c. The divine presence attended this discourse; and the assembly was considerably melted with divine truths. After sermon baptized two persons. Then administered the Lord's supper to near forty communicants of the Indians, besides divers dear Christians of the white people. It seemed to be a season of divine power and grace; and numbers seemed to rejoice in God. Oh, the sweet union and harmony then appearing among the religious people! My soul was refreshed, and my religious friends, of the white people, with me. After the sacrament, could scarcely get home, though it was not more than twenty roods; but was supported and led by my friends, and laid on my bed; where I lay in pain till some time in the evening; and then was able to sit up and discourse with friends. Oh, how was this day spent in prayers and praises among my dear people! One might hear them, all the morning, before public worship, and in the evening, till near midnight, praying and singing praises to God, in one or other of their houses. My soul was refreshed, though my body was weak." This week, in two days, though in a very low state, he went to Elizabeth-town, to attend the meeting of the Synod there: but was disappointed by its removal to New York. He continued in a very composed, comfortable frame of mind. "Saturday, Oct. 11 Towards night was seized with an ague, which was followed with a hard fever, and considerable pain: was treated with great kindness, and was ashamed to see so much concern about so unworthy a creature, as I knew myself to be. Was in a comfortable frame of mind, wholly submissive, with regard to life or death. It was indeed a peculiar satisfaction to me, to think, that it was not my concern or business to determine whether I should live or die. I likewise felt peculiarly satisfied, while under this uncommon degree of disorder; being now fully convinced of my being really weak, and unable to perform my work. Whereas at other times my mind was perplexed with fears, that I was a misimprover of time, by conceiting I was sick, when I was not in reality so. Oh, how precious is time! And how guilty it makes me feel, when I think I have trifled away and misimproved it, or neglected to fill up each part of it with duty, to the utmost of my ability and capacity! "Lord's day, Oct. 12. Was scarce able to sit up in the forenoon: in the afternoon attended public worship, and was in a composed, comfortable frame. "Lord's day, Oct. 19. Was scarcely able to do any thing at all in the week past, except that on Thursday I rode out about four miles; at which time I took cold. As I was able to do little or nothing, so I enjoyed not much spirituality, or lively religious affection; though at some times I longed much to be more fruitful and full of heavenly affection; and was grieved to see the hours slide away, while I could do nothing for God. Was able this week to attend public worship. Was composed and comfortable, willing either to die or live; but found it hard to be reconciled to the thoughts of living useless. Oh that I might never live to be a burden to God's creation; but that I might be allowed to repair home, when my sojourning work is done!" This week he went back to his Indians at Cranberry, to take some care of their spiritual and temporal concerns; and was much spent with riding; though he rode but a little way in a day. "Thursday, Oct. 23. Went to my own house, and set things in order. Was very weak, and somewhat melancholy: laboured to do something, but had no strength; and was forced to lie down on my bed, very solitary. "Friday, Oct. 24. Spent the day in overseeing and directing my people about mending their fence, and securing their wheat. Found that all their concerns of a secular nature depended upon me. Was somewhat refreshed in the evening, having been able to do something valuable in the day-time. Oh, how it pains me to see time pass away, when I can do nothing to any purpose! "Saturday, Oct. 25. Visited some of my people; spent some time in writing, and felt much better in body than usual. When it was near night, I felt so well, that I had thoughts of expounding: but in the evening was much disordered again, and spent the night in coughing, and spitting blood. "Lord's day, Oct. 26. In the morning was exceeding weak: spent the day, till near night, in pain to see my poor people wandering as sheep not having a shepherd, waiting and hoping to see me able to preach to them before night. It could not but distress me to see them in this case, and to find myself unable to attempt any thing for their spiritual benefit. But towards night, finding myself a little better, I called them together to my house, and sat down, and read and expounded Matt. v. 1-16. This discourse, though delivered in much weakness, was attended with power to many of the hearers; especially what was spoken upon the last of these verses; where I insisted on the infinite wrong done to religion, by having our light become darkness, instead of shining before men. Many in the congregation were now deeply affected with a sense of their deficiency, in regard of a spiritual conversation, that might recommend religion to others, and a spirit of concern and watchfulness seemed to be excited in them. There was one, in particular, who had fallen into the sin of drunkenness some time before, now deeply convinced of his sin, and the great dishonour done to religion by his misconduct, and he discovered a great degree of grief and concern on that account. My soul was refreshed to see this. And though I had no strength to speak so much as I would have done, but was obliged to lie down on the bed; yet I rejoiced to see such an humble melting in the congregation; and that divine truths, though faintly delivered, were attended with so much efficacy upon the auditory. "Monday, Oct. 27. Spent the day in overseeing and directing the Indians about mending the fence round their wheat: was able to walk with them, and contrive their business, all the forenoon. In the afternoon was visited by two dear friends, and spent some time in conversation with them. Towards night I was able to walk out, and take care of the Indians again. In the evening enjoyed a very peaceful frame. "Tuesday, Oct. 28. Rode to Prince-town, in a very weak state: had such a violent fever, by the way, that I was forced to alight at a friend's house, and lie down for some time. Near night was visited by Mr. Treat, Mr. Beaty and his wife, and another friend: my spirits were refreshed to see them; but I was surprised, and even ashamed, that they had taken so much pains as to ride thirty or forty miles to see me. Was able to sit up most of the evening; and spent the time in a very comfortable manner with my friends. "Wednesday, Oct. 29. Rode about ten miles with my friends that came yesterday to see me; and then parted with them all but one, who stayed on purpose to keep me company, and cheer my spirits. Was extremely weak, and very feverish, especially towards night; but enjoyed comfort and satisfaction. "Thursday, Oct. 30. Rode three or four miles, to visit Mr. Wales: spent some time, in an agreeable manner, in conversation; and though extremely weak, enjoyed a comfortable, composed frame of mind. Friday, Oct. 31. Spent the day among friends, in a comfortable frame of mind, though exceeding weak, and under a considerable fever. "Saturday, Nov. 1 Took leave of friends after having spent the forenoon with them, and returned home to my own house. Was much disordered in the evening, and oppressed with my cough; which has now been constant for a long time, with a hard pain in my breast, and fever. "Lord's day, Nov. 2. Was unable to preach, and scarcely able to sit up, the whole day. Was grieved, and almost sunk, to see my poor people destitute of the means of grace; especially considering they could not read, and so were under great disadvantages for spending the sabbath comfortably. Oh, me thought, I could be contented to be sick, if my poor flock had a faithful pastor to feed them with spiritual knowledge! A view of their want of this was more afflictive to me than all my bodily illness. "Monday, Nov. 3. Being now in so weak and low a state, that I was utterly incapable of performing my work, and having little hope of recovery, unless by much riding, I thought it my duty to take a long journey into New England, and to divert myself among my friends, whom I had not now seen for a long time. And accordingly took leave of my congregation this day. Before I left my people, I visited them all in their respective houses, and discoursed to each one, as I thought most proper and suitable for their circumstances, and found great freedom and assistance in so doing. I scarcely left one house but some were in tears; and many were not only affected with my being about to leave them, but with the solemn addresses I made them upon divine things; for I was helped to be fervent in spirit while I discoursed to them. When I had thus gone through my congregation, (which took me most of the day,) and had taken leave of them, and of the school, I left home, and rode about two miles, to the house where I lived in the summer past, and there lodged. Was refreshed, this evening, in that I had left my congregation so well-disposed and affected, and that I had been so much assisted in making my farewell-addresses to them. "Tuesday, Nov. 4. Rode to Woodbridge, and lodged with Mr. Pierson; continuing in a weak state. " Wednesday, Nov. 5. Rode to Elizabeth-town; intending as soon as possible to prosecute my journey into New England. But was, in an hour or two after my arrival, taken much worse. " After this, for near a week, I was confined to my chamber, and most of the time to my bed: and then so far revived as to be able to walk about the house; but was still confined within doors. "In the beginning of this extraordinary turn of disorder, after my coming to Elizabeth-town, I was enabled through mercy to maintain a calm, composed, and patient spirit, as I had been before from the beginning of my weakness. After I had been in Elizabeth-town about a fortnight, and had so far recovered that I was able to walk about the house, upon a day of thanksgiving kept in this place, I was enabled to recall and recount over the mercies of God, in such a manner as greatly affected me, and filled me with thankfulness and praise. Especially my soul praised God for his work of grace among the Indians, and the enlargement of his dear kingdom. My soul blessed God for what he is in himself, and adored him, that he ever would display himself to creatures. I rejoiced that he was God, and longed that all should know it, and feel it, and rejoice in it. Lord, glorify thyself,' was the desire and cry of my soul. Oh that all people might love and praise the blessed God; that he might have all possible honour and glory from the intelligent world! [403] " After this comfortable thanksgiving-season, I frequently enjoyed freedom, enlargement, and engagedness of soul in prayer, and was enabled to intercede with God for my dear congregation, very often for every family, and every person, in particular. It was often a great comfort to me, that I could pray heartily to God for those, to whom I could not speak, and whom I was not allowed to see. But at other times, my spirits were so flat and low, and my bodily vigour so much wasted, that I had scarce any affections at all. " In December I had revived so far as to be able to walk abroad, and visit friends, and seemed to be on the gaining hand with regard to my health, in the main, until Lord's day, December 21. At which time I went to the public worship; and it being sacrament day, I laboured much at the Lord's table, to bring forth a certain corruption, and have it slain, as being an enemy to God and my own soul; and could not but hope, that I had gained some strength against this, as well as other corruptions; and felt some brokenness of heart for my sin. "After this, having perhaps taken some cold, I began to decline as to bodily health; and continued to do so, till the latter end of January, 1747. Having a violent cough, a considerable fever, an asthmatic disorder, and no appetite for any manner of food, nor any power of digestion, I was reduced to so low a state, that my friends, I believe, generally despaired of my life; and some of them, for some time together, thought I could scarce live a day. At this time, I could think of nothing, with any application of mind, and seemed to be in a great measure void of all affection, and was exercised with great temptations; but yet was not ordinarily afraid of death. "On Lord's day, Feb. 1. Though in a very weak and low state, I enjoyed a considerable deal of comfort and sweetness in divine things; and was enabled to plead and use arguments with God in prayer, I think, with a childlike spirit. That passage of Scripture occurred to my mind, and gave me great assistance, If ye, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him?' This text I was helped to plead and insist upon; and saw the divine faithfulness engaged for dealing with me better than any earthly parent can do with his child. This season so refreshed my soul, that my body seemed also to be a gainer by it. And from this time I began gradually to amend. And as I recovered some strength, vigour, and spirit, I found at times some freedom and life in the exercises of devotion, and some longings after spirituality and a life of usefulness to the interests of the great Redeemer. At other times I was awfully barren and lifeless, and out of frame for the things of God; so that I was ready often to cry out, Oh that it were with me as in months past!' Oh that God had taken me away in the midst of my usefulness, with a sudden stroke, that I might not have been under a necessity of trifling away time in diversions! Oh that I had never lived to spend so much precious time, in so poor a manner, and to so little purpose! Thus I often reflected, was grieved, ashamed, and even confounded, sunk and discouraged. "On Tuesday, Feb. 24. I was able to ride as far as Newark, (having been confined within Elizabeth-town almost four months,) and the next day returned to Elizabeth-town. My spirits were somewhat refreshed with the ride, though my body was weary. "On Saturday, Feb. 28. Was visited by an Indian of my own congregation; who brought me letters, and good news of the sober and good behaviour of my people in general. This refreshed my soul; I could not but soon retire, and bless God for his goodness; and found, I trust, a truly thankful frame of spirit, that God seemed to be building up that congregation for himself. "On Wednesday, March 4. I met with a reproof from a friend, which, although I thought I did not deserve it from him, yet was, I trust, blessed of God to make me more tenderly afraid of sin, more jealous over myself, and more concerned to keep both heart and life pure and unblamable. It likewise caused me to reflect on my past deadness, and want of spirituality, and to abhor myself, and look on myself as most unworthy. This frame of mind continued the next day; and for several days after, I grieved to think, that in my necessary diversions I had not maintained more seriousness, solemnity, heavenly affection and conversation. Thus my spirits were often depressed and sunk; and yet I trust that reproof was made to be beneficial to me. "Wednesday, March 11, being kept in Elizabeth-town as a day of fasting and prayer, I was able to attend public worship; which was the first time I was able so to do after December 21. Oh, how much weakness and distress did God carry me through in this space of time! But having obtained help from him, I yet live: Oh that I could live more to his glory! "Lord's day, March 15. Was able again to attend the public worship, and felt some earnest desires of being restored to the ministerial work: felt, I think, some spirit and life to speak for God. "Wednesday, March 18. Rode out with a design to visit my people; and the next day arrived among them: but was under great dejection in my journey. " On Friday morning I rose early, walked about among my people, and inquired into their state and concerns and found an additional weight and burden on my spirits, upon hearing some things disagreeable. I endeavoured to go to God with my distresses, and made some kind of lamentable complaint; and in a broken manner spread my difficulties before God; but, notwithstanding, my mind continued very gloomy. About ten o'clock I called my people together, and after having explained and sung a psalm, I prayed with them. There was a considerable deal of affection among them; I doubt not, in some instances, that which was more than merely natural." This was the last interview that he ever had with his people. About eleven o'clock the same day he left them; and the next day came to Elizabeth-town; his melancholy remaining still: and he continued for a considerable time under a great degree of dejection through vapoury disorders. "Saturday, March 28. Was taken this morning with violent griping pains. These pains were extreme and constant for several hours; so that it seemed impossible for me, without a miracle, to live twenty-four hours in such distress. I lay confined to my bed the whole day, and in distressing pain all the former part of it: but it pleased God to bless means for the abatement of my distress. Was exceedingly weakened by this pain, and continued so for several days following; being exercised with a fever, cough, and nocturnal sweats. In this distressed case, so long as my head was free of vapoury confusions, death appeared agreeable to me; I looked on it as the end of toils, and an entrance into a place where the weary are at rest;' and I think I had some relish of the entertainments of the heavenly state; so that by these I was allured and drawn as well as driven by the fatigues of life. Oh, how happy it is, to be drawn by desires of a state of perfect holiness! "Saturday, April 4. Was sunk and dejected, very restless and uneasy, by reason of the misimprovement of time; and yet knew not what to do. I longed to spend time in fasting and prayer, that I might be delivered from indolence and coldness in the things of God; but, alas, I had not bodily strength for these exercises! Oh, how blessed a thing is it to enjoy peace of conscience! but how dreadful is a want of inward peace and composure of soul! It is impossible, I find, to enjoy this happiness without redeeming time, and maintaining a spiritual frame of mind. "Lord's day, April 5. It grieved me to find myself so inconceivably barren. My soul thirsted for grace; but alas, how far was I from obtaining what appeared to me so exceeding excellent! I was ready to despair of ever being a holy creature, and yet my soul was desirous of following hard after God; but never did I see myself so far from having apprehended, or being already perfect, as at this time. The Lord's supper being this day administered, I attended the ordinance: and though I saw in myself a dreadful emptiness and want of grace, and saw myself as it were at an infinite distance from that purity which becomes the gospel; yet at the communion, especially the distribution of the bread, I enjoyed some warmth of affection, and felt a tender love to the brethren; and I think, to the glorious Redeemer, the first-born among them. I endeavoured then to bring forth mine and his enemies, and slay them before him; and found great freedom in begging deliverance from this spiritual death, as well as in asking divine favours for my friends and congregation, and the church of Christ in general. "Tuesday, April 7. In the afternoon rode to Newark, in order to marry the Reverend Mr. Dickinson; [404] and in the evening performed that work. Afterwards rode home to Elizabeth-town, in a pleasant frame, full of composure and sweetness. "Thursday, April 9. Attended the ordination of Mr. Tucker, [405] and afterwards the examination of Mr. Smith: was in a comfortable frame of mind this day, and felt my heart, I think, sometimes in a spiritual frame. "Friday, April 10. Spent the forenoon in Presbyterial business: in the afternoon, rode to Elizabeth-town; found my brother John there: [406] spent some time in conversation with him; but was extremely weak and outdone, my spirits considerably sunk, and my mind dejected. "Monday, April 13. Assisted in examining my brother. In the evening, was in a solemn devout frame; but was much overdone and oppressed with a violent head-ache. "Tuesday, April 14. Was able to do little or nothing: spent some time with Mr. Byram and other friends. This day my brother went to my people. "Wednesday, April 15. Found some freedom at the throne of grace several times this day. In the afternoon was very weak, and spent the time to very little purpose; and yet in the evening had, I thought, some religious warmth and spiritual desires in prayer: my soul seemed to go forth after God, and take complacence in his divine perfections. But, alas! afterwards awfully let down my watch, and grew careless and secure. "Thursday, April 16. Was in bitter anguish of soul in the morning, such as I have scarce ever felt, with a sense of sin and guilt. I continued in distress the whole day, attempting to pray wherever I went; and indeed could not help so doing: but looked upon myself so vile, I dared not look any body in the face; and was even grieved that any body should show me any respect, or at least that they should be so deceived as to think I deserved it. "Friday, April 17. In the evening could not but think that God helped me to draw near to the throne of grace,' though most unworthy, and gave me a sense of his favour; which gave me inexpressible support and encouragement. Though I scarcely dared to hope the mercy was real, it appeared so great; yet could not but rejoice that ever God should discover his reconciled face to such a vile sinner. Shame and confusion, at times, covered me; and then hope, and joy, and admiration of divine goodness gained the ascendant. Sometimes I could not but admire the divine goodness, that the Lord had not let me fall into all the grossest, vilest acts of sins and open scandal that could be thought of; and felt myself so necessitated to praise God, that this was ready for a little while to swallow up my shame and pressure of spirit on account of my sins." After this, his dejection and pressure of spirit returned; and he remained under it the two next days. "Monday, April 20. Was in a very disordered state, and kept my bed most of the day. I enjoyed a little more comfort than in several of the preceding days. This day I arrived at the age of twenty-nine years. "Tuesday, April 21. I set out on my journey for New England, in order (if it might be the will of God) to recover my health by riding: travelled to New York, and there lodged." This proved his final departure from New Jersey. he travelled slowly, and arrived among his friends at East Haddam, about the beginning of May. There is very little account in his diary of the time that passed from his setting out on his journey to May 10. He speaks of his sometimes finding his heart rejoicing in the glorious perfections of God, and longing to live to him; but complains of the unfixedness of his thoughts, and their being easily diverted from divine subjects, and cries out of his leanness, as testifying against him, in the loudest manner. And concerning those diversions he was obliged to use for his health, he says, that he sometimes found he could use diversions with "singleness of heart," aiming at the glory of God; but that he also found there was a necessity of great care and watchfulness, lest he should lose that spiritual temper of mind in his diversions, and lest they should degenerate into what was merely selfish, without any supreme aim at the glory of God in them. "Lord's day, May 10. (At Had-Lime) I could not but feel some measure of gratitude to God at this time, (wherein I was much exercised,) that he had always disposed me, in my ministry, to insist on the great doctrine of regeneration, the new creature, faith in Christ, progressive sanctification, supreme love to God, living entirely to the glory of God, being not our own, and the like. God thus helped me to see, in the surest manner, from time to time, that these, and the like doctrine necessarily connected with them, are the only foundation of safety and salvation for perishing sinners; and that those divine dispositions, which are consonant hereto, are that holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord.' The exercise of these God-like tempers wherein the soul acts in a kind of concert with God, and would be and do every thing that is pleasing to him I saw, would stand by the soul in a dying hour; for God must, I think, deny himself, if he cast away his own image, even the soul that is one in desires with himself. "Lord's day, May 17. [At Millington] Spent the forenoon at home, being unable to attend the public worship. At this time, God gave me some affecting sense of my own vileness and the exceeding sinfulness of my heart; that there seemed to be nothing but sin and corruption within me. Innumerable evils compassed me about:' my want of spirituality and holy living, my neglect of God, and living to myself. All the abominations of my heart and life seemed to be open to my view; and I had nothing to say, but, God be merciful to me a sinner.' Towards noon I saw, that the grace of God in Christ is infinitely free towards sinners, and such sinners as I was. I also saw, that God is the supreme good, that in his presence is life; and I began to long to die, that I might be with him, in a state of freedom from all sin. Oh, how a small glimpse of his excellency refreshed my soul! Oh, how worthy is the blessed God to be loved, adored, and delighted in for himself, for his own divine excellencies! "Though I felt much dulness, and want of a spirit in prayer this week; yet I had some glimpses of the excellency of divine things; and especially one morning, in secret meditation and prayer, the excellency and beauty of holiness, as a likeness to the glorious God, was so discovered to me, that I began to long earnestly to be in that world where holiness dwells in perfection. I seemed to long for this perfect holiness, not so much for the sake of my own happiness, (although I saw clearly that this was the greatest, yea, the only happiness of the soul,) as that I might please God, live entirely to him, and glorify him to the utmost stretch of my rational powers and capacities. "Lord's day, May 24. [Long Meadow in Springfield] Could not but think, as I have often remarked to others, that much more of true religion consists in deep humility, brokenness of heart, and an abasing sense of barrenness and want of grace and holiness, than most who are called Christians imagine; especially those who have been esteemed the converts of the late day. Many seem to know of no other religion but elevated joys and affections, arising only from some flights of imagination, or some suggestion made to their mind, of Christ being theirs, God living them, and the like." On Thursday, May 28. He came from Long Meadow to Northampton: appearing vastly better than, by his account, he had been in the winter; indeed so welt, that he was able to ride twenty-five miles in a day, and to walk half a mile; and appeared cheerful, and free from melancholy; but yet undoubtedly, at that time, in a confirmed, incurable consumption. I had much opportunity, before this, of particular information concerning him, from many who were well acquainted with him; and had myself once an opportunity of considerable conversation and some acquaintance with him, at New-Haven, near four years before, at the time of the commencement, when he offered that confession to the rector of the college, which has been already mentioned in this history; I being one he was pleased then several times to consult on that affair: but now I had opportunity for a more full acquaintance with him. I found him remarkably sociable, pleasant, and entertaining in his conversation; yet solid, savoury, spiritual, and very profitable. He appeared meek, modest, and humble; far from any stiffness, moroseness, superstitious demureness, or affected singularity in speech or behaviour, and seeming to dislike all such things. We enjoyed not only the benefit of his conversation, but had the comfort and advantage of hearing him pray in the family, from time to time. His manner of praying was very agreeable; most becoming a worm of the dust, and a disciple of Christ, addressing an infinitely great and holy God, and Father of mercies; not with florid expressions, or a studied eloquence; not with any intemperate vehemence, or indecent boldness. It was at the greatest distance from any appearance of ostentation, and from every thing that might look as though he meant to recommend himself to those that were about him, or set himself off to their acceptance. It was free also from vain repetitions, without impertinent excursions, or needless multiplying of words. He expressed himself with the strictest propriety, with weight, and pungency; and yet what his lips uttered seemed to flow from the fulness of his heart, as deeply impressed with a great and solemn sense of our necessities, unworthiness, and dependence, and of God's infinite greatness, excellency, and sufficiency, rather than merely from a warm and fruitful brain, pouring out good expressions. And I know not that ever I heard him so much as ask a blessing or return thanks at table, but there was something remarkable to be observed both in the matter and manner of the performance. In his prayers, he insisted much on the prosperity of Zion, the advancement of Christ's kingdom in the world, and the flourishing and propagation of religion among the Indians. And he generally made it one petition in his prayer, "that we might not outlive our usefulness." "Lord's day, May 31. [At Northampton] I had little inward sweetness in religion most of the week past; not realizing and beholding spiritually the glory of God, and the blessed Redeemer; from whence always arise my comforts and joys in religion, if I have any at all: and if I cannot so behold the excellencies and perfections of God, as to cause me to rejoice in him for what he is in himself, I have no solid foundation for joy. To rejoice, only because I apprehend I have an interest in Christ, and shall be finally saved, is a poor mean business indeed." This week he consulted Dr. Mather, at my house, concerning his illness, who plainly told him, that there were great evidences of his being in a confirmed consumption, and that he could give him no encouragement that he should ever recover. But it seemed not to occasion the least discomposure in him, not to make any manner of alteration as to the cheerfulness and serenity of his mind, or the freedom or pleasantness of his conversation. "Lord's day, June 7. My attention was greatly engaged, and my soul so drawn forth, this day, by what I heard of the exceeding preciousness of the saving grace of God's Spirit,' that it almost overcame my body, in my weak state. I saw, that true grace is exceeding precious indeed; that it is very rare; and that there is but a very small degree of it, even where the reality of it is to be found; at least, I saw this to be my case. In the preceding week I enjoyed some comfortable seasons of meditation. One morning the cause of God appeared exceeding precious to me: the Redeemer's kingdom is all that is valuable in the earth, and I could not but long for the promotion of it in the world. I saw also, that this cause is God's, that he has an infinitely greater regard and concern for it than I could possibly have; that if I have any true love to this blessed interest, it is only a drop derived from that ocean: hence, I was ready to lift up my head with joy;' and conclude, Well, if God's cause be so dear and precious to him, he will promote it.' And thus I did as it were rest on God, that surely he would promote that which was so agreeable to his own will; though the time when must still be left to his sovereign pleasure." He was advised by physicians still to continue riding, as what would tend, above any other means, to prolong his life. He was at a loss, for some time, which way to bend his course next; but finally determined to ride from hence to Boston; we having concluded that one of this family should go with him, and be helpful to him in his weak and low state. "Tuesday, June 9. I set out on a journey from Northampton to Boston. Travelled slowly, and got some acquaintance with divers ministers on the road. "Having now continued to ride for some considerable time together, I felt myself much better than I had formerly done; and found, that in proportion to the prospect I had of being restored to a state of usefulness, so I desired the continuance of life: but death appeared inconceivably more desirable to me than a useless life; yet blessed be God, I found my heart, at times, fully resigned and reconciled to this greatest of afflictions, if God saw fit thus to deal with me. "Friday, June 12. I arrived in Boston this day, somewhat fatigued with my journey. Observed that there is no rest, but in God: fatigues of body, and anxieties of mind, attend us, both in town and country; no place is exempted. "Lord's day, June 14. I enjoyed some enlargement and sweetness in family prayer, as well as in secret exercises; God appeared excellent, his ways full of pleasure and peace, and all I wanted was a spirit of holy fervency, to live to him. "Wednesday, June 17. This, and the two preceding days, I spent mainly in visiting the ministers of the town, and was treated with great respect by them. "On Thursday, June 18. I was taken exceeding ill, and brought to the gates of death, by the breaking of small ulcers in my lungs, as my physician supposed. In this extreme weak state I continued for several weeks, and was frequently reduced so low, as to be utterly speechless, and not able so much as to whisper a word; and even after I had so far revived, as to walk about the house, and to step out of doors, I was exercised every day with a faint turn, which continued usually four or five hours: at which times, though I was not so utterly speechless, but that I could say Yes or No, yet I could not converse at all, nor speak one sentence, without making stops for breath; and divers times in this season, my friends gathered round my bed, to see me breathe my last, which they looked for every moment, as I myself also did. "How I was, the first day or two of my illness, with regard to the exercise of reason, I scarcely know; I believe I was somewhat shattered with the violence of the fever, at times: but the third day of my illness, and constantly afterwards, for four or five weeks together, I enjoyed as much serenity of mind, and clearness of thought, as perhaps I ever did in my life; and I think my mind never penetrated with so much ease and freedom into divine things, as at this time; and I never felt so capable of demonstrating the truth of many important doctrine of the gospel as now. And as I saw clearly the truth of those great doctrine, which are justly styled the doctrine of grace; so I saw with no less clearness, that the essence of religion consisted in the soul's conformity to God, and acting above all selfish views, for his glory, longing to be for him, to live to him, and please and honour him in all things: and this from a clear view of his infinite excellency and worthiness in himself, to be loved, adored, worshipped, and served by all intelligent creatures. Thus I saw, that when a soul loves God with a supreme love, he therein acts like the blessed God himself, who most justly loves himself in that manner. So when God's interest and his are become one, and he longs that God should be glorified, and rejoices to think that he is unchangeably possessed of the highest glory and blessedness, herein also he acts in conformity to God. In like manner, when the soul is fully resigned to, and rests satisfied and contented with, the divine will, here it is also conformed to God. "I saw further, that as this divine temper, whereby the soul exalts God, and treads self in the dust, is wrought in the soul by God's discovering his own glorious perfections in the face of Jesus Christ to it, by the special influences of the Holy Spirit, so he cannot but have regard to it, as his own work; and as it is his image in the soul, he cannot but take delight in it. Then I saw again, that if God should slight and reject his own moral image, he must needs deny himself; which he cannot do. And thus I saw the stability and infallibility of this religion; and that those who are truly possessed of it, have the most complete and satisfying evidence of their being interested in all the benefits of Christ's redemption, having their hearts conformed to him; and that these, these only, are qualified for the employments and entertainments of God's kingdom of glory; as none but these have any relish for the business of heaven, which is to ascribe glory to God, and not to themselves; and that God (though I would speak it with great reverence of his name and perfection) cannot, without denying himself, finally cast such away. "The next thing I had then to do, was to inquire, whether this was my religion: and here God was pleased to help me to the most easy remembrance and critical review of what had passed in course, of a religious nature, through several of the latter years of my life. And although I could discover much corruption attending my best duties, many selfish views and carnal ends, much spiritual pride and self-exaltation, and innumerable other evils which compassed me about; yet God was pleased, as I was reviewing, quickly to put this question out of doubt, by showing me that I had, from time to time, acted above the utmost influence of mere self-love; that I had longed to please and glorify him, as my highest happiness, &c. And this review was through grace attended with a present feeling of the same divine temper of mind; I felt now pleased to think of the glory of God, and longed for heaven, as a state wherein I might glorify God perfectly, rather than a place of happiness for myself: and this feeling of the love of God in my heart, which I trust the Spirit of God excited in me afresh, was sufficient to give me full satisfaction, and make me long, as I had many times before done, to be with Christ. I did not now want any of the sudden suggestions, which many are so pleased with, That Christ and his benefits are mine; that God loves me,' &c. in order to give me satisfaction about my state: no, my soul now abhorred those delusions of Satan, which are thought to be the immediate witness of the Spirit, while there is nothing but an empty suggestion of a certain fact, without any gracious discovery of the divine glory, or of the Spirit's work in their own hearts. I saw the awful delusion of this kind of confidence, as well as of the whole of that religion, from which they usually spring, or at least of which they are the attendants. The false religion of the late day, (though a day of wondrous grace,) the imaginations, and impressions made only on the animal affections together with the sudden suggestions made to the mind by Satan, transformed into an angel of light, of certain facts not revealed in Scripture and many such like things, I fear, have made up the greater part of the religious appearance in many places. "These things I saw with great clearness, when I was thought to be dying. And God gave me great concern for his church and interest in the world, at this time: not so much because the late remarkable influence upon the minds of people was abated, as because that false religion those heats of imagination, and wild and selfish commotions of the animal affections which attended the work of grace, had prevailed so far. This was that which my mind dwelt upon, almost day and night: and this, to me, was the darkest appearance, respecting religion, in the land; for it was this, chiefly, that had prejudiced the world against inward religion. And I saw the great misery of all was, that so few saw any manner of difference between those exercises that were spiritual and holy, and those which have self-love only for their beginning, centre, and end. "As God was pleased to afford me clearness of thought, and composure of mind, almost continually, for several weeks together under my great weakness; so he enabled me, in some measure, to improve my time, as I hope, to valuable purposes. I was enabled to write a number of important letters to friends in remote places: [407] and sometimes I wrote when I was speechless, i. e. unable to maintain conversation with any body; though perhaps I was able to speak a word or two so as to be heard. At this season also, while I was confined at Boston, I read with care and attention some papers of old Mr. Shepard's, lately come to light, and designed for the press: and as I was desired, and greatly urged, made some corrections, where the sense was left dark, for want of a word or two. Besides this, I had many visitants; with whom, when I was able to speak, I always conversed of the things of religion; and was peculiarly disposed and assisted in distinguishing between the true and false religion of the times. There was scarce any subject, that has been matter of debate in the late day, but what I was in at one time or other brought to a sort of necessity to discourse upon, and show my opinion; and that frequently before numbers of people; and especially, I discoursed repeatedly on the nature and necessity of that humiliation, self-emptiness, or full conviction of a person's being utterly undone in himself, which is necessary in order to a saving faith, and the extreme difficulty of being brought to this, and the great danger there is of persons taking up with some self-righteous appearances of it. The danger of this I especially dwelt upon, being persuaded that multitudes perish in this hidden way; and because so little is said from most pulpits to discover any danger here: so that persons being never effectually brought to die in themselves, are never truly united to Christ, and so perish. I also discoursed much on what I take to be the essence of true religion, endeavouring plainly to describe that God-like temper and disposition of soul, and that holy conversation and behaviour, that may justly claim the honour of having God for its original and patron. And I have reason to hope God blessed my way of discoursing and distinguishing to some, both ministers and people; so that my time was not wholly lost." He was much visited, while in Boston, by many persons of considerable note and character, and by some of the first rank; who showed him uncommon respect, and appeared highly pleased and entertained with his conversation. And besides his being honoured with the company and respect of ministers of the town, he was visited by several ministers from various parts of the country. He took all opportunities to discourse of the peculiar nature and distinguishing characters of true, spiritual, and vital religion; and to hear his testimony against the various false appearances of it, consisting in, or arising from, impressions on the imagination, sudden and supposed immediate suggestions of truths not contained in the Scripture, and that faith which consists primarily in a person believing that Christ died for him in particular, &c. What he said was, for the most part, heard with uncommon attention and regard: and his discourses and reasonings appeared manifestly to have great weight and influence, with many that he conversed with, both ministers and others. [408] Also the Honourable Commissioners in Boston, of the incorporated Society in London for propagating the Gospel in New England and parts adjacent, having newly had committed to them a legacy of the late reverend and famous Dr. Daniel Williams of London, for the support of two missionaries to the heathen, were pleased, while he was in Boston, to consult him about a mission to those Indians called the Six Nations, particularly about the qualifications requisite in a missionary to those Indians; and were so satisfied with his sentiments on this head, and had that confidence in his faithfulness, and his judgment and discretion in things of this nature, that they desired him to undertake to find and recommend a couple of persons fit to be employed in this business; and very much left the matter with him. Likewise certain pious and generously disposed gentlemen in Boston, being moved by the wonderful narrative of his labours and success among the Indians in New Jersey, and more especially by their conversation with him on the same subject, took opportunity to inquire more particularly into the state and necessities of his congregation, and the school among them, with a charitable intention of contributing something to promote the excellent design of advancing the interests of Christianity among the Indians; and understanding that there was a want of Bibles for the school, three dozen of Bibles were immediately procured, and 14l. in bills (of the old tenor) given over and above, besides more large benefactions made afterwards, which I shall have occasion to mention in their proper place. Mr. Brainerd's restoration from his extremely low state in Boston, so as to go abroad again and to travel, was very unexpected to him and his friends. My daughter who was with him, writes thus concerning him, in a letter dated June 23. "On Thursday, he was very ill with a violent fever, and extreme pain in his head and breast, and at turns, delirious. So he remained till Saturday evening, when he seemed to be in the agonies of death; the family was up with him till one or two o'clock, expecting every hour would be his last. On sabbath-day he was a little revived, his head was better, but very full of pain, and exceeding sore at his breast, much put to it for breath, &c. Yesterday he was better upon all accounts. Last night he slept but little. This morning he was much worse. Dr. Pynchon says, he has no hopes of his life; nor does he think it likely he will ever come out of the chamber; though he says, he may be able to come to Northampton " In another letter, dated June 29, she says as follows. "Mr. Brainerd has not so much pain, nor fever, since I last wrote, as before; yet he is extremely weak and low, and very faint, expecting every day will be his last. He says, it is impossible for him to live, for he has hardly vigour enough to draw his breath. I went this morning into town, and when I came home, Mr. Bromfield said, he never expected I should see him alive; for he lay two hours, as they thought, dying; one could scarcely tell whether he was alive or not; he was not able to speak for some time: but now is much as he was before. The doctor thinks he will drop away in such a turn. Mr. Brainerd says he never felt any thing so much like dissolution, as what he felt to-day; and says he never had any conception of its being possible for any creature to be alive, and yet so weak as he is from day to day. Dr. Pynchon says, he should not be surprised if he should so recover as to live half a year; nor would it surprise him if he should die in half a day. Since I began to write he is not so well, having had a faint turn again; yet patient and resigned, having no distressing fears, but the contrary." His physician, the honourable Joseph Pynchon, Esq. when he visited him in his extreme illness in Boston, attributed his sinking so suddenly into a state so extremely low, and nigh unto death, to the breaking of ulcers, that had been long gathering in his lungs, (as Mr. Brainerd himself intimates in a forementioned passage in his diary,) and there discharging and diffusing their purulent matter. This, while nature was labouring and struggling to throw it off, which could be done no otherwise than by a gradual straining of it through the small vessels of those vital parts, occasioned a high fever and violent coughing, threw the whole frame of nature into the utmost disorder, and brought it near to a dissolution. But it was supposed, if the strength of nature held till the lungs had this way gradually cleared themselves of this putrid matter, he might revive, and continue better, till new ulcers gathered and broke; but that this would surely sink him again, and there was no hope of his recovery. He expressed himself to one of my neighbours, who at that time saw him in Boston, that he was as certainly a dead man as if he was shot through the heart. But so it was ordered in divine providence, that the strength of nature held out through this great conflict, so as just to escape the grave at that turn; and then he revived, to the astonishment of all that knew his case. After he began to revive, he was visited by his youngest brother, Mr. Israel Brainerd, a student at Yale college; who having heard of his extreme illness, went from thence to Boston, in order to see him, if he might find him alive, which he but little expected. This visit was attended with a mixture of joy and sorrow to Mr. Brainerd. He greatly rejoiced to see his brother, especially because he had desired an opportunity of some religious conversation with him before he died. But this meeting was attended with sorrow, as his brother brought to him the sorrowful tidings of his sister Spencer's death at Haddam; a sister, between whom and him had long subsisted a peculiarly dear affection, and much intimacy in spiritual matters, and whose house he used to make his home when he went to Haddam, his native place. He had heard nothing of her sickness till this report of her death. But he had these comforts together with the tidings, viz. a confidence of her being gone to heaven, and an expectation of his soon meeting her there. His brother continued with him till he left the town, and came with him from thence to Northampton. Concerning the last sabbath Mr. Brainerd spent in Boston, he writes in his diary as follows. "Lord's day, July 19. I was just able to attend public worship, being earned to the house of God in a chaise. Heard Dr. Sewall preach in the forenoon: partook of the Lord's supper at this time. In this sacrament I saw astonishing divine wisdom displayed; such wisdom as I saw required the tongues of angels and glorified saints to celebrate. It seemed to me I never should do any thing at adoring the infinite wisdom of God, discovered in the contrivance of man's redemption, until I arrived at a world of perfection; yet I could not help striving to call upon my soul, and all within me, to bless the name of God.' In the afternoon heard Mr. Prince preach. I saw more of God in the wisdom discovered in the plan of man's redemption, than I saw of any other of his perfections, through the whole day." He left Boston the next day. But before he came away, he had occasion to bear a very full, plain, and open testimony against that opinion, that the essence of saving faith lies in believing that Christ died for me in particular; and that this is the first act of faith in a true believer's closing with Christ. He did it in a long conference he had with a gentleman, who has very publicly and strenuously appeared to defend that tenet. He had this discourse with him in the presence of a number of considerable persons, who came to visit Mr. Brainerd before he left the town, and to take their leave of him. In which debate he made this plain declaration, (at the same time confirming what he said by many arguments,) That the essence of saving faith was wholly left out of the definition which that gentleman has published; and that the faith which he had defined, had nothing of God in it, nothing above nature, nor indeed above the power of the devils; and that all such as had this faith, and had no better, though they might have this to never so high a degree, would surely perish. And he declared also, that he never had greater assurance of the falseness of the principles of those that maintained such a faith, and of their dangerous and destructive tendency, or a more affecting sense of the great delusion and misery of those that depended on getting to heaven by such a faith, (while they had no better,) than he lately had when he was supposed to be at the point to die, and expected every minute to pass into eternity. Mr. Brainerd's discourse at this time, and the forcible reasonings by which he confirmed what he asserted, appeared to be greatly to the satisfaction of those present; as several of them took occasion expressly to manifest to him, before they took leave of him. When this conversation was ended, having bid an affectionate farewell to his friends, he set out in the cool of the afternoon, on his journey to Northampton, attended by his brother, and my daughter that went with him to Boston; and would have been accompanied out of the town by a number of gentlemen, besides that honourable person who gave him his company for some miles on that occasion, as a testimony of their esteem and respect, had not his aversion to any thing of pomp and show prevented it. "Saturday, July 25, I arrived here at Northampton; having set out from Boston on Monday, about four o'clock, P. M. In this journey I rode about sixteen miles a day, one day with another. Was sometimes extremely tired and faint on the road, so that it seemed impossible for me to proceed any further: at other times I was considerably better, and felt some freedom both of body and mind. "Lord's day, July 26. This day I saw clearly that I should never be happy; yea, that God himself could not make me happy, unless I could be in a capacity to please and glorify him for ever.' Take away this, and admit me into all the fine heavens that can be conceived of by men or angels, and I should still be miserable for ever." Though he had so far revived, as to be able to travel thus far, yet he manifested no expectation of recovery: he supposed, as his physician did, that his being brought so near to death at Boston, was owing to the breaking of ulcers in his lungs. He told me that he had several such ill turns before, only not to so high a degree, but as he supposed, owing to the same cause, viz. the breaking of ulcers; and that he was brought lower and lower every time; and it appeared to him, that in his last sickness he was brought as low as it was possible, and yet live; and that he had not the least expectation of surviving the next return of this breaking of ulcers; but still appeared perfectly calm in the prospect of death. On Wednesday morning, the week after he came to Northampton, he took leave of his brother Israel, never expecting to see him again in this world; he now setting out from hence on his journey to New-Haven. When Mr. Brainerd came hither, he had so much strength as to be able, from day to day, to ride out two or three miles, and to return; and sometimes to pray in the family; but from this time he gradually decayed, becoming weaker and weaker. While he was here, his conversation from first to last was much on the same subjects as when in Boston. He spoke much of the nature of true religion in heart and practice, as distinguished from its various counterfeits; expressing his great concern, that the latter so much prevailed in many places. He often manifested his great abhorrence of all such doctrine and principles in religion, as had any tendency to antinomianism; of all such notions, as seemed to diminish the necessity of holiness of life, or to abate men's regard to the commands of God, and a strict, diligent, and universal practice of virtue and piety, under a pretence of depreciating bur works, and magnifying Gods free grace. He spoke often, with much detestation, of such experiences and pretended discoveries and joys, as have nothing of the nature of sanctification in them, as do not tend to strictness, tenderness, and diligence in religion, to meekness and benevolence towards mankind, and an humble behaviour. He also declared, that he looked on such pretended humility as worthy of no regard, which was not manifested by modesty, of conduct and conversation. He spake often, with abhorrence, of the spirit and practice that appears among the greater part of separatists at this day in the land, particularly those in the eastern parts of Connecticut; in their condemning and separating from the standing ministry and churches, their crying down learning and a learned ministry, their notion of an immediate call to the work of the ministry, and the forwardness of laymen to set up themselves as public teachers. He had been much conversant in the eastern part of Connecticut, (it being near his native place,) when the same principles, notion, and spirit began to operate, which have since prevailed to a greater height; and had acquaintance with some of those persons who are become heads and leaders of the separatists. He had also been conversant with persons of the same way elsewhere; and I heard him say, once and again, he knew by his acquaintance with this sort of people, that what was chiefly and most generally in repute among them as the power of godliness, was an entirely different thing from that true vital piety recommended in the Scriptures, and had nothing in it of that nature. He manifested a great dislike of a disposition in persons to much noise and show in religion, and affecting to be abundant in proclaiming and publishing their own experiences. Though at the same time he did not condemn, but approved of Christians speaking of their own experiences on some occasions, and to some persons, with due modesty and discretion. He himself sometimes, while at my house, spake of his own experiences; but it was always with apparent reserve, and in the exercise of care and judgment with respect to occasions, persons, and circumstances. He mentioned some remarkable things of his own religious experience to two young gentlemen, candidates for the ministry, who watched with him (each at a different time) when he was very low, and not far from his end; but he desired both of them not to speak of what he had told them till after his death. The subject of that debate I mentioned before, which he had with a certain gentleman, the day he left Boston, seemed to lie with much weight on his mind after he came hither; and he began to write a letter to that gentleman, expressing his sentiments concerning the dangerous tendency of some of the tenets he had expressed in conversation, and in the writings he had published; with the considerations by which the exceeding hurtful nature of those notions is evident; but he had not strength to finish his letter. After he came hither, as long as he lived, he spoke much of that future prosperity of Zion which is so often foretold and promised in the Scripture. It was a theme he delighted to dwell upon; and his mind seemed to be carried forth with earnest concern about it, and intense desires, that religion might speedily and abundantly revive and flourish. Though he had not the least expectation of recovery, yea, the nearer death advanced, and the more the symptoms of its approach increased, still the more did his mind seem to be taken up with this subject. He told me, when near his end, that "he never in all his life had his mind so led forth in desires and earnest prayers for the flourishing of Christ's kingdom on earth, as since he was brought so exceeding low at Boston." He seemed much to wonder, that there appeared no more of a disposition in ministers and people to pray for the flourishing of religion through the world; that so little a part of their prayers was generally taken up about it, in their families, and elsewhere; and particularly, he several times expressed his wonder, that there appeared no more forwardness to comply with the proposal lately made, in a Memorial from a number of ministers in Scotland, and sent over into America, for united extraordinary prayer, among Christ's ministers and people, for the coming of Christ's kingdom: and he sent it as his dying advice to his own congregation, that they should practise agreeably to that proposal. [409] Though he was constantly exceeding weak, yet there appeared in him a continual care well to improve time and fill it up with something that might be profitable, and in some respect for the glory of God or the good of men; either profitable conversation, or writing letters to absent friends, or noting something in his diary, or looking over his former writings, correcting them, and preparing them to be left in the hands of others at his death, or giving some directions concerning the future management of his people, or employment in secret devotions. He seemed never to be easy, however ill, if he was not doing something for God, or in his service. After he came hither, he wrote a preface to a diary of the famous Mr. Shepard's, (in those papers before mentioned, lately found,) having been much urged to it by those gentlemen in Boston who had the care of the publication: which diary, with his preface, has since been published. [410] In his diary for Lord's day, Aug. 9, he speaks of longing desires after death, through a sense of the excellency of a state of perfection. In his diary for Lord's day, Aug. 16, he speaks of his having so much refreshment of soul in the house of God, that it seemed also to refresh his body. And this is not only noted in his diary, but was very observable to others: it was very apparent, not only that his mind was exhilarated with inward consolation, but also that his animal spirits and bodily strength seemed to be remarkably restored, as though he had forgot his illness. But this was the last time that ever he attended public worship on the sabbath. On Tuesday morning that week (I being absent on a journey) he prayed with my family; but not without much difficulty, for want of bodily strength; and this was the last family prayer that ever he made. He had been wont, till now, frequently to ride out two or three miles; but this week, on Thursday, was the last time he ever did so. "Lord's day, Aug. 23. This morning I was considerably refreshed with the thought, yea, the hope and expectation of the enlargement of Christ's kingdom; and I could not but hope the time was at hand, when Babylon the great would fall, and rise no more. This led me to some spiritual meditations, that were very refreshing to me. I was unable to attend public worship, either part of the day; but God was pleased to afford me fixedness and satisfaction in divine thoughts. Nothing so refreshes my soul, as when I can go to God, yea, to God my exceeding joy. When he is so, sensibly, to my soul, oh how unspeakably delightful is this! "In the week past I had divers turns of inward refreshing; though my body was inexpressibly weak, followed continually with agues and fevers. Sometimes my soul centred in God, as my only portion; and I felt that I should be for ever unhappy if he did not reign. I saw the sweetness and happiness of being his subject, at his disposal. This made all my difficulties quickly vanish. "From this Lord's day, viz. Aug. 23, I was troubled very much with vapoury disorders, and could neither write nor read, and could scarcely live; although, through mercy, was not so much oppressed with heavy melancholy and gloominess, as at many other times. Till this week he had been wont to lodge in a room above stairs; but he now grew so weak, that he was no longer able to go up stairs and down. Friday, Aug. 28, was the last time he ever went above-stairs; henceforward he betook himself to a lower room. On Wednesday, Sept. 2, being the day of our public lecture, he seemed to be refreshed with seeing the neighbouring ministers that came hither to the lecture, and expressed a great desire once more to go to the house of God on that day: and accordingly rode to the meeting, and attended divine service, while the Reverend Mr. Woodbridge, of Hatfield, preached. He signified that he supposed it to be the last time that ever he should attend the public worship; as it proved. And indeed it was the last time that ever he went out at our gate alive. On the Saturday evening next following he was unexpectedly visited by his brother, Mr. John Brainerd, who came to see him from New Jersey. He was much refreshed by this unexpected visit, this brother being peculiarly dear to him; and he seemed to rejoice in a devout and solemn manner, to see him, and to hear the comfortable tidings he brought concerning the state of his dear congregation of Christian Indians. A circumstance of this visit, of which he was exceeding glad, was, that his brother brought him some of his private writings from New Jersey, and, particularly his diary that he had kept for many years past. "Lord's day, Sept. 6. I began to read some of my private writings, which my brother brought me; and was considerably refreshed with what I met with in them. "Monday, Sept. 7. I proceeded further in reading my old private writings, and found they had the same effect upon me as before. I could not but rejoice and bless God for what passed long ago, which without writing had been entirely lost. "This evening, when I was in great distress of body, my soul longed that God should be glorified: I saw there was no heaven but this. I could not but speak to the bystanders then of the only happiness, viz. pleasing God. O that I could for ever live to God! The day, I trust, is at hand, the perfect day. Oh, the day of deliverance from all sin. "Lord's day, Sept. 13. I was much refreshed and engaged in meditation and writing, and found a heart to act for God. My spirits were refreshed, and my soul delighted to do something for God." On the evening following that Lord's day, his feet began to appear sensibly swelled; which thenceforward swelled more and more. A symptom of his dissolution coming on. The next day his brother John left him, being obliged to return to New Jersey on some business of great importance and necessity; intending to return again with all possible speed, hoping to see his brother yet once more in the land of the living. Mr. Brainerd having now, with much deliberation, considered of the important affair before mentioned, which was referred to him by the Honourable Commissioners in Boston, of the Corporation in London fur the Propagation of the Gospel in New England and parts adjacent, viz. the fixing upon and recommending of two persons proper to be employed as missionaries to the Six Nations, he about this time wrote a letter, recommending two young gentlemen of his acquaintance to those commissioners, viz. Mr. Elihu Spencer of East Haddam, and Mr. Job Strong of Northampton. The commissioners, on the receipt of this letter, cheerfully and unanimously agreed to accept of and employ the persons he had recommended. They accordingly have since waited on the commissioners to receive their instructions; and pursuant to these, have applied themselves to a preparation for the business of their mission. One of them, Mr. Spencer, has been solemnly ordained to that work, by several of the ministers of Boston, in the presence of an ecclesiastical council convened for that purpose; and is now gone forth to the nation of Oncidaes, about a hundred and seventy miles beyond Albany. He also this week, viz. on Wednesday, Sept. 16, wrote a letter to a particular gentleman in Boston (one of those charitable persons before mentioned, who appeared so forward to contribute of their substance for promoting Christianity among the Indians) relating to the growth of the Indian school. And the need of another schoolmaster, or some person to assist the schoolmaster in instructing the Indian children. These gentlemen, on the receipt of this letter, had a meeting, and agreed with great cheerfulness to give 200l. (in bills of the old tenor) for the support of another schoolmaster; and desired the Reverend Mr. Pemberton of New York, (who was then at Boston, and was also, at their desire, present at their meeting,) as soon as possible to procure a suitable person for that service; and also agreed to allow 75l. to defray some special charges that were requisite to encourage the mission to the Six Nations, (besides the salary allowed by the commissioners,) which was also done on some intimations given by Mr. Brainerd. Mr. Brainerd spent himself much in writing those letters, being exceeding weak: but it seemed to be much to his satisfaction, that he had been enabled to do it; hoping that it was something done for God, and which might be for the advancement of Christ's kingdom and glory. In writing the last of these letters, he was obliged to use the hand of another, not being able to write himself. On the Thursday of this week (Sept. 17.) was the last time that ever he went out of his lodging room. That day he was again visited by his brother Israel, who continued with him thenceforward till his death. On that evening, he was taken with something of a diarrhoea; which he looked upon as another sign of his approaching death: whereupon he expressed himself thus; "Oh, the glorious time is now coming! I have longed to serve God perfectly: now God will gratify those desires!" And from time to time, at the several steps and new symptoms of the sensible approach of his dissolution, he was so far from being sunk or damped, that he seemed to be animated, and made more cheerful; as being glad at the appearance of death's approach. He often used the epithet, glorious, when speaking of the day of his death, calling it that glorious day. And as he saw his dissolution gradually approaching, he talked much about it; and with perfect calmness he spoke of a future state. He also settled all his affairs, giving directions very particularly and minutely, concerning what he would have done in one respect and another after his decease. And the nearer death approached, the more desirous he seemed to be of it. He several times spoke of the different kinds of willingness to die; and represented it as an ignoble, mean kind, to be willing to leave the body, only to get rid of pain; or to go to heaven, only to get honour and advancement there. "Saturday, Sept. 19. Near night, while I attempted to walk a little, my thoughts turned thus; How infinitely sweet it is, to love God, and be all for him!' Upon which it was suggested to me, You are not an angel, not lively and active.' To which my whole soul immediately replied, I as sincerely desire to love and glorify God, as any angel in heaven.' Upon which it was suggested again, But you are filthy, not fit for heaven.' Hereupon instantly appeared the blessed robes of Christ's righteousness, which I could not but exult and triumph in; and I viewed the infinite excellency of God, and my soul even broke with longings that God should be glorified. I thought of dignity in heaven; but instantly the thought returned, I do not go to heaven to get honour, but to give all possible glory and praise.' Oh, how I longed that God should be glorified on earth also! Oh, I was made for eternity, if God might be glorified! Bodily pains I cared not for; though I was then in extremity, I never felt easier. I felt willing to glorify God in that state of bodily distress, as long as he pleased I should continue in it. The grave appeared really sweet, and I longed to lodge my weary bones in it: but oh, that God might be glorified! this was the burden of all my cry. Oh, I knew I should be active as an angel in heaven; and that I should be stripped of my filthy garments! so that there was no objection. But, oh, to love and praise God more, to please him for ever! this my soul panted after, and even now pants for while I write. Oh that God might be glorified in the whole earth! Lord, let thy kingdom come.' I longed for a Spirit of preaching to descend and rest on ministers, that they might address the consciences of men with closeness and power. I saw God had the residue of the Spirit;' and my soul longed it should be poured from on high.' I could not but plead with God for my dear congregation, that he would preserve it, and not suffer his great name to lose its glory in that work; my soul still longing that God might be glorified." The extraordinary frame he was in that evening could not be hid; "his mouth spake out of the abundance of his heart," expressing in a very affecting manner much the same things as are written in his diary; and among very many other extraordinary expressions, which he then uttered, were such as these; "My heaven is to please God, and glorify him, and to give all to him, and to be wholly devoted to his glory: that is the heaven I long for; that is my religion, and that is my happiness, and always was ever since I suppose I had any true religion: and all those that are of that religion shall meet me in heaven. I do not go to heaven to be advanced, but to give honour to God. It is no matter where I shall be stationed in heaven, whether I have a high or low seat there; but to love, and please, and glorify God is all. Had I a thousand souls, if they were worth any thing, I would give them all to God; but I have nothing to give, when all is done. It is impossible for any rational creature to be happy without acting all for God: God himself could not make him happy any other way. I long to be in heaven, praising and glorifying God with the holy angels: all my desire is to glorify God, My heart goes out to the burying place; it seems to me a desirable place: but oh to glorify, God! that is it; that is above all. It is a great comfort to me to think that I have done a little for God in the world: oh! it is but a very small matter; yet I have done a little; and I lament it that I have not done more for him. There is nothing in the world worth living for, but doing good and finishing God's work, doing the work that Christ did. I see nothing else in the world that can yield any satisfaction, besides living to God, pleasing him, and doing his whole will. My greatest joy and comfort has been to do something for promoting the interest of religion, and the souls of particular persons: and now in my illness, while I am full of pain and distress from day to day, all the comfort I have is in being able to do some little char (or small piece of work), for God; either by something that I say, or by writing, or some other way." He intermingled with these and other like expressions, many pathetical counsels to those who were about him: particularly to my children and servants. He applied himself to some of my younger children at this time; calling them to him, and speaking to them one by one; setting before them in a very plain manner the nature and essence of true piety, and its great importance and necessity; earnestly warning them not to rest in any thing short of a true and thorough change of heart, and a life devoted to God. He counselled them not to be slack in the great business of religion, nor in the least to delay it; enforcing his counsels with this, that his words were the words of a dying man: said he, "I shall die here, and here I shall be buried, and here you will see my grave, and do you remember what I have said to you. I am going into eternity; and it is sweet to me to think of eternity: the endlessness of it makes it sweet: but oh, what shall I say to the eternity of the wicked! I cannot mention it, nor think of it; the thought is too dreadful. When you see my grave, then remember what I said to you while I was alive; then think with yourself, how the man who lies in that grave counselled and warned me to prepare for death." His body seemed to be marvellously strengthened, through the inward vigour and refreshment of his mind; so that, although before he was so weak that he could hardly utter a sentence, yet now he continued his most affecting and profitable discourse to us for more than an hour, with scarce any intermission; and said of it, when he had done, "it was the last sermon that ever he should preach." This extraordinary frame of mind continued the next day; of which he says in his diary as follows. "Lord's day, Sept. 20. Was still in a sweet and comfortable frame: and was again melted with desires that God might be glorified, and with longings to love and live to him. Longed for the influences of the divine Spirit to descend on ministers, in a special manner. And oh, I longed to be with God, to behold his glory, and to bow in his presence!" It appears by what is noted in his diary, both of this day and the evening preceding, that his mind at this time was much impressed with a sense of the importance of the work of the ministry, and the need of the grace of God, and his special spiritual assistance in this work. It also appeared in what he expressed in conversation; particularly in his discourse to his brother Israel, who was then a member of Yale college at New Haven, prosecuting his studies for the work of the ministry. [411] He now, and from time to time, in this his dying state, recommended to his brother a life of self-denial, of weanedness from the world, and devotedness to God, and an earnest endeavour to obtain much of the grace of God's Spirit, and God's gracious influences on his heart; representing the great need which ministers stand in of them, and the unspeakable benefit of them from his own experience. Among many other expressions, he said thus; "When ministers feel these special gracious influences on their hearts, it wonderfully assists them to come at the consciences of men, and as it were to handle them; whereas, without them, whatever reason and oratory we make use of, we do but make use of stumps, instead of hands." Monday, Sept. 21. I began to correct a little volume of my private writings. God, I believe, remarkably helped me in it; my strength was surprisingly lengthened out, my thoughts were quick and lively, and my soul refreshed, hoping it might be a work for God. Oh, how good, how sweet it is, to labour for God! Tuesday, Sept. 22. Was again employed in reading and correcting, and had the same success as the day before. I was exceeding weak; but it seemed to refresh my soul thus to spend time. "Wednesday, Sept. 23. I finished my corrections of the little piece before mentioned, and felt uncommonly peaceful: it seemed as if I had now done all my work in this world, and stood ready for my call to a better. As long as I see any thing to be done for God, life is worth having: but oh, how vain and unworthy it is, to live for any lower end! This day I indited a letter, I think, of great importance, to the Reverend Mr. Byram in New Jersey. Oh that God would bless and succeed that letter, which was written for the benefit of his church! [412] Oh that God would purify the sons of Levi, that his glory may be advanced! This night I endured a dreadful turn, wherein my life was expected scarce an hour or minute together. But blessed be God, I have enjoyed considerable sweetness in divine things this week, both by night and day. "Thursday, Sept. 24. My strength began to fail exceedingly; which looked further as if I had done all my work: however, I had strength to fold and superscribe my letter. About two I went to bed, being weak and much disordered, and lay in a burning fever till night, without any proper rest. In the evening I got up, having lain down in some of my clothes; but was in the greatest distress that ever I endured, having an uncommon kind of hiccough; which either strangled me, or threw me into a straining to vomit; and at the same time was distressed with griping pains. Oh, the distress of this evening! I had little expectation of my living the night through, nor indeed had any about me: and I longed for the finishing moment! l was obliged to repair to bed by six o'clock; and through mercy enjoyed some rest; but was grievously distressed at turns with the hiccough. My soul breathed after God, When shall I come to God, even to God, my exceeding joy?' Oh for his blessed likeness! "Friday, Sept. 25. This day I was unspeakably weak, and little better than speechless all the day: however, I was able to write a little, and felt comfortably in some part of the day. Oh, it refreshed my soul, to think of former things, of desires to glorify God, of the pleasures of living to him! Oh, my dear God, I am speedily coming to thee, I hope. Hasten the day, O Lord, if it be thy blessed will. Oh come, Lord Jesus, come quickly. Amen. "Saturday, Sept. 26. I felt the sweetness of divine things this forenoon; and had the consolation of a consciousness that I was doing something for God. "Lord's day, Sept. 27. This was a very comfortable day to my soul; I think I awoke with God. I was enabled to lift up my soul to God early this morning; and while I had little bodily strength, I found freedom to lift up my heart to God for myself and others. Afterwards was pleased with the thoughts of speedily entering into the unseen world." Early this morning, as one of the family came into the room, he expressed himself thus: "I have had more pleasure this morning, than all the drunkards in the world enjoy." So much did he esteem the joy of faith above the pleasures of sin. He felt that morning an unusual appetite to food, with which his mind seemed to be exhilarated, looking on it as a sign of the very near approach of death. At this time he also said, "I was born on a sabbath-day; and I have reason to think I was new-born on a sabbath-day; and I hope I shall die on this sabbath-day. I shall look upon it as a favour, if it may be the will of God that it should be so: I long for the time. Oh, why is his chariot so long in coming? why tarry the wheels of his chariots?' I am very willing to part with all: I am willing to part with my dear brother John, and never to see him again, to go to be for ever with the Lord. [413] Oh, when I go there, how will God's dear church on earth be upon my mind!" Afterwards, the same morning, being asked, how he did? he answered, "I am almost in eternity. I long to be there. My work is done: I have done with all my friends: all the world is nothing to me. I long to be in heaven, praising and glorifying God with the holy angels. All my desire is to glorify God." During the whole of these last two weeks of his life, he seemed to continue in this frame of heart; loose from all the world, as having finished his work, and done with all things here below. He had now nothing to do but to die, and to abide in an earnest desire and expectation of the happy moment, when his soul should take its flight to a state of perfect holiness, in which he should be found perfectly glorifying and enjoying God. He said, "That the consideration of the day of death, and the day of judgment, had a long time been peculiarly sweet to him." From time to time he spake of his being willing to leave the body and the world immediately, that day, that night, that moment, if it was the will of God. He also was much engaged in expressing his longings that the church of Christ on earth might flourish, and Christ's kingdom here might be advanced, notwithstanding he was about to leave the earth, and should not with his eyes behold the desirable event, nor be instrumental in promoting it. He said to me, one morning, as I came into the room, "My thoughts have been employed on the old dear theme, the prosperity of God's church on earth. As I waked out of sleep, I was led to cry for the pouring out of God's Spirit, and the advancement of Christ's kingdom, which the dear Redeemer did and suffered so much for. It is that especially makes me long for it." He expressed much hope that a glorious advancement of Christ's kingdom was near at hand. He once told me, that "he had formerly longed for the outpouring of the Spirit of God, and the glorious times of the church, and hoped they were coming; and should have been willing to have lived to promote religion at that time, if that had been the will of God; but, says he, I am willing it should be as it is; I would not have the choice to make for myself, for ten thousand worlds." He expressed on his deathbed a full persuasion that he should in heaven see the prosperity of the church on earth, and should rejoice with Christ therein; and the consideration of it seemed to be highly pleasing and satisfying to his mind. He also still dwelt much on the great importance of the work of gospel ministers; and expressed his longings, that they might be filled with the Spirit of God. He manifested much desire to see some of the neighbouring ministers, with whom he had some acquaintance, and whose sincere friendship he was confident, that he might converse freely with them on that subject, before he died. And it so happened, that he had opportunity with some of them according to his desire. Another thing that lay much on his heart, from time to time, in these near approaches of death, was the spiritual prosperity of his own congregation of Christian Indians in New Jersey: and when he spake of them, it was with peculiar tenderness; so that his speech would be presently interrupted and drowned with tears. He also expressed much satisfaction in the disposals of Providence, with regard to the circumstances of his death; particularly that God had before his death given him an opportunity in Boston, with so many considerable persons, ministers and others, to give in his testimony for God against false religion, and many mistakes that lead to it, and promote it. He was much pleased that he had an opportunity there to lay before pious and charitable gentlemen the state of the Indians, and their necessities, to so good effect; and that God had since enabled him to write to them further concerning these affairs; and to write other letters of importance, that he hoped might be of good influence with regard to the state of religion among the Indians, and elsewhere, after his death. He expressed great thankfulness to God for his mercy in these things. He also mentioned it as what he accounted a merciful circumstance of his death, that he should die here. [414] And speaking of these things, he said, "God had granted him all his desire;" and signified, that now he could with the greater alacrity leave the world. "Monday, Sept. 28. I was able to read, and make some few corrections in my private writings; but found I could not write as I had done; I found myself sensibly declined in all respects. It has been only from a little while before noon, till about one or two o'clock, that I have been able to do any thing for some time past: yet this refreshed my heart, that I could do any thing, either public or private, that I hoped was for God." This evening he was supposed to be dying: he thought so himself, and was thought so by those who were about him. He seemed glad at the appearance of the near approach of death. He was almost speechless, but his lips appeared to move: and one that sat very near him, heard him utter such expressions as these, "Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly. Oh, why is his chariot so long in coming." After he revived, he blamed himself for having been too eager to be gone. And in expressing what he found in the frame of his mind at that time, he said, he then found an inexpressibly sweet love to those that he looked upon as belonging to Christ, beyond almost all that ever he felt before; so that it "seemed (to use his own words) like a little piece of heaven to have one of them near him." And being asked, whether he heard the prayer that was (at his desire) made with him; he said, "Yes, he heard every word, and had an uncommon sense of the things that were uttered in that prayer, and that every word reached his heart." On the evening of Tuesday, Sept. 29, as he lay on his bed, he seemed to be in an extraordinary frame; his mind greatly engaged in sweet meditations concerning the prosperity of Zion. There being present here at that time two young gentlemen of his acquaintance, that were candidates for the ministry, he desired us all to unite in singing a psalm on that subject, even Zion's prosperity. And on his desire we sung a part of the 102d Psalm. This seemed much to refresh and revive him, and gave him new strength; so that, though before he could scarcely speak at all, now he proceeded with some freedom of speech, to give his dying counsels to those two young gentlemen before mentioned, relating to their preparation for, and prosecution of, that great work of the ministry they were designed for; and in particular, earnestly recommended to them frequent secret fasting and prayer: and enforced his counsel with regard to this, from his own experience of the great comfort and benefit of it; which (said he) I should not mention, were it not that I am a dying person. And after he had finished his counsel, he made a prayer in the audience of us all; wherein, besides praying for this family, for his brethren, and those candidates for the ministry, and for his own congregation, he earnestly prayed for the reviving and flourishing of religion in the world. Till now, he had every day sat up part of the day; but after this he never rose from his bed. Wednesday, Sept. 30. I was obliged to keep my bed the whole day, through weakness. However, redeemed a little time, and, with the help of my brother, read and corrected about a dozen pages in my MS. giving an account of my conversion. Thursday, Oct. 1. I endeavoured again to do something by way of writing, but soon found my powers of body and mind utterly fail. Felt not so sweetly as when I was able to do something that I hoped would do some good. In the evening was discomposed and wholly delirious; but it was not long before God was pleased to give me some sleep, and fully composed my mind. [415] Oh, blessed he God for his great goodness to me, since I was so low at Mr. Bromfield's, on Thursday, June 18, last. He has, except those few minutes, given me the clear exercise of my reason, and enabled me to labour much for him, in things both of a public and private nature; and perhaps to do more good than I should have done if I had been well; besides the comfortable influences of his blessed Spirit, with which he has been pleased to refresh my soul. May his name have all the glory for ever and ever. Amen. "Friday, Oct. 2. My soul was this day, at turns, sweetly set on God: I longed to be with him, that I might behold his glory. I felt sweetly disposed to commit all to him, even my dearest friends, my dearest flock, my absent brother, and all my concerns for time and eternity. Oh that his kingdom might come in the world; that they might all love and glorify him, for what he is in himself; and that the blessed Redeemer might see of the travail of his soul, and be satisfied!' Oh come, Lord Jesus, come quickly! Amen.'" [416] The next evening we very much expected his brother John from New Jersey; it being about a week after the time that he proposed for his return, when he went away. And though our expectations were still disappointed; yet Mr. Brainerd seemed to continue unmoved, in the same calm and peaceful frame that he had before manifested; as having resigned all to God, and having done with his friends, and with all things here below. On the morning of the next day, being Lord's day, Oct. 4, as my daughter Jerusha (who chiefly attended him) came into the room, he looked on her very pleasantly, and said," Dear Jerusha, are you willing to part with me?--I am quite willing to part with you: I am willing to part with all my friends: I am willing to part with my dear brother John, although I love him the best of any creature living: I have committed him and all my friends to God, and can leave them with God. Though, if I thought I should not see you and be happy with you in another world, I could not bear to part with you. But we shall spend a happy eternity together!" [417] In the evening, as one came into the room with a Bible in her hand, he expressed himself thus; "Oh that dear book! that lovely book! I shall soon see it opened! the mysteries that are in it, and the mysteries of God's providence, will be all unfolded!" His distemper now very apparently preyed on his vitals in an extraordinary manner: not by a sudden breaking of ulcers in his lungs, as at Boston, but by a constant discharge of purulent matter, in great quantities: so that what he brought up by expectoration, seemed to be as it were mouthfuls of almost clear pus; which was attended with very inward pain and distress. On Thursday, Oct. 6, he lay for a considerable time as if he were dying. At which time he was heard to utter, in broken whispers, such expressions as these; "He will come, he will not tarry. I shall soon he in glory. I shall soon glorify God with the angels." But after some time he revived. The next day, Wednesday, Oct. 7, his brother John arrived from New Jersey; where he had been detained much longer than he intended, by a mortal sickness prevailing among the Christian Indians, and by some other circumstances that made his stay with them necessary. Mr. Brainerd was affected and refreshed with seeing him, and appeared fully satisfied with the reasons of his delay; seeing the interest of religion and of the souls of his people required it. The next day, Thursday, Oct. 8, he was in great distress and agonies of body; and for the greater part of the day, was much disordered as to the exercise of his reason. In the evening he was more composed, and had the use of his reason well; but the pain of his body continued and increased. He told me, it was impossible for any to conceive of the distress he felt in his breast. He manifested much concern lest he should dishonour God by impatience, under his extreme agony; which was such, that he said, the thought of enduring it one minute longer was almost insupportable. He desired that others would be much in lifting up their hearts continually to God for him, that God would support him, and give him patience. He signified, that he expected to die that night; but seemed to fear a longer delay: and the disposition of his mind with regard to death appeared still the same that it had been all along. And notwithstanding his bodily agonies, yet the interest of Zion lay still with great weight on his mind; as appeared by some considerable discourse he had that evening with the Reverend Mr. Billing, one of the neighbouring ministers, (who was then present,) concerning the great importance of the work of the ministry, &c. And afterwards, when it was very late in the night, he had much very proper and profitable discourse with his brother John, concerning his congregation in New Jersey, and the interest of religion among the Indians. In the latter part of the night, his bodily distress seemed to rise to a greater height than ever; and he said to those then about him, that "it was another thing to die than people imagined;" explaining himself to mean that they were not aware what bodily pain and anguish is undergone before death. Towards day, his eyes fixed; and he continued lying immovable, till about six o'clock in the morning, and then expired, on Friday, Oct. 9, 1747; when his soul, as we may well conclude, was received by his dear Lord and Master, as an eminently faithful servant, into that state of perfection of holiness, and fruition of God, which he had so often and so ardently longed for; and was welcomed by the glorious assembly in the upper world, as one peculiarly fitted to join them in their blessed employ and enjoyment. Much respect was shown to his memory at his funeral which was on the Monday following, after a sermon preached the same day, on that solemn occasion. His funeral was attended by eight of the neighbouring ministers, and seventeen other gentlemen of liberal education, and a great concourse of people. __________________________________________________________________ [401] Mr. Shepard, in his Select Cases Resolved, under the first case says as follows. "I have lately known one very able, wise, and godly, put upon the rack, by him that, envying God's people's peace, knows how to change himself into an angel of light; for it being his usual course, in the time of his health, to make a diary of his hourly life, and finding much benefit by it, he was in conscience pressed, by the power and delusion of Satan, to make and take the same daily survey of his life in the time of his sickness; by means of which he spent his enfeebled spirits, cast on fuel to fire his sickness. Had not a friend of his convinced him of his erroneous conscience misleading him at that time, he had murdered his body, out of conscience to save his soul, and to preserve his grace. And do you think these were the motions of God's Spirit, which like those locusts, Rev. ix. 9, 10, had faces like men, but had tails like scorpions, and stings in their tails? [402] This was the fourth house he built for his residence among the Indians. Besides that at Kaunaumeek, and that at the Forks of Delaware, and another at Crossweeksung, he built one now at Cranbury. [403] About this time he wrote the seventh letter among his Remains. [404] The late learned and very excellent Mr. Jonathan Dickinson, pastor of a church in Elizabeth-town, president of the college of New Jersey, and one of the Correspondents of the Honourable Society in Scotland for propagating Christian Knowledge. He had a great esteem for Mr. Brainerd, and kindly entertained him in his house during his sickness in the winter past; and after a short illness, he died in the next ensuing October, two days before Mr. Brainerd. [405] A worthy pious young gentleman; who lived in the ministry but a very short time: he died at Stratfield in Connecticut, the December following his ordination, being a little while after Mr. Brainerd's death at Northampton. He was taken ill on a journey, returning from a visit to his friends at Milton, (in the Massachusettes,) which, as I take it, was his native place, and Harvard college the place of his education. [406] This brother of his had been sent for by the Correspondents, to take care of, and instruct Mr. Brainerd's congregation of Indians; he being obliged by his illness to be absent from them. And he continued to take care of them till Mr. Brainerd's death; and since his death, has been ordained his successor in his mission, and to the charge of his congregation which continues much to flourish under his pastoral care. [407] Among these are the eighth, ninth, and tenth letters, among his Remains. [408] I have had advantage for the more full information of his conduct and conversation, the entertainment he met with, and what passed relating him while in Boston; as he was constantly attended, during his continuance there, by one of my children, in order to his assistance in his illness. [409] His congregation, since this, have with great cheerfulness and unanimity fallen in with this advice, and have practised agreeably to the proposal from Scotland; and have at times appeared with uncommon engagedness and fervency of spirit in their meetings and united devotions, pursuant to that proposal. Also the presbyteries of New York and New Brunswick, since this, have with one consent fallen in with the proposal, as likewise some others of God's people in those parts. [410] A part of this preface is inserted in the Reflections on these Memoirs in a subsequent part of this volume. [411] This young gentleman was an ingenious, serious, studious, and hopefully truly pious person; there appeared in him many qualities giving hope of his being a great blessing in his day. But it has pleased God, since the death of his brother, to take him away also. He died that winter, at New Haven, on January 6, 1748, of a nervous fever, after about a fortnight's illness. [412] It was concerning the qualifications of ministers, and the examination and licensing of candidates for the work of the ministry. [413] He had, before this, expressed a desire, if it might be the will of God, to live till his brother returned from New Jersey: who, when he went away, intended, if possible, to perform his journey, and return in a fortnight; hoping once more to meet his brother in the land of the living. The fortnight was now near expired, it ended the next day. [414] The editor takes leave to make the remark, that when Mr. Brainerd was at Boston, sick nigh unto death, it was with reluctance he thought of dying in a place where funerals are often attended with a pomp and show, which (especially on occasion of his own) he was very averse to any appearance of: and though it was with some difficulty he got his mind reconciled to the prospect then before him, yet at last he was brought to acquiesce in the divine will, with respect to this circumstance of his departure. However, it pleased God to order the event so as to gratify his desire, which he had expressed, of getting back to Northampton, with a view particularly to a more silent and private burial. [415] >From this time forward he had the free use of his reason till the day before his death; excepting that at some times he appeared a little lost for a moment, at first waking out of sleep. [416] Here ends his diary: these are the last words that are written in it, either by his own hand, or by any other from his mouth. [417] Since this, it has pleased a holy and sovereign God to take away this my dear child by death, on the 14th of February, next following, after a short illness of five days, in the eighteenth year of her age. She was a person of much the same spirit with Mr. Brainerd. She had constantly taken care of and attended him in his sickness, for nineteen weeks before his death; devoting herself to it with great delight, because she looked on him as an eminent servant of Jesus Christ. In this time he had much conversation with her on the things of religion; and in his dying state, often expressed to us, her parents, his great satisfaction concerning her true piety, and his confidence that he should meet her in heaven: and his high opinion of her, not only as a true Christian, but a very eminent saint: one whose soul was uncommonly fed and entertained with things that appertain to the most spiritual, experimental, and distinguishing parts of religion; and one who, by the temper of her mind, was fitted to deny herself for God, and to do good, beyond any young women whatsoever that he knew of. She had manifested a heart uncommonly devoted to God, in the course of her life, many years before her death: and said on her death-bed, that "she had not seen one minute for several years, wherein she desired to live one minute longer, for the sake of any other good in life, but doing good, living to God, and doing what might be for his glory." __________________________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________________ MR. BRAINERD'S JOURNAL, IN TWO PARTS. __________________________________________________________________ ADVERTISEMENT. THE Journal having been so much referred to in the Life and Diary, and being originally a part of the Diary itself, this work would be very imperfect without it. It was first printed not only in two parts, but with some variation in the Titles, which are here subjoined. The First Part was, "Mirabilia Dei inter Indicos;Or the Rise and Progress of a remarkable Work of GraceAmongst a number of the Indians,In the Provinces of New Jersey and Pennsylvania;Justly represented in a JOURNAL kept by order of the Honourable Society (in Scotland) for Propagating Christian Knowledge; with some General Remarks;By DAVID BRAINERD,Minister of the Gospel, and Missionary from the said Society:Published by the Reverend and worthy Correspondents of the said Society;with a Preface by them." The Second Part was, "Divine Grace Displayed;Or the Continuance and Progress of a remarkable Work of GraceAmong some of the IndiansBelonging to the Provinces of New Jersey and Pennsylvania;Justly represented in a Journal kept by order of the Honourable Society (in Scotland)for Propagating Christian Knowledge;with some General Remarks;To which is subjoined an Appendix, containing some account of sundry things, especially of the Difficulties attendingthe Work of a Missionary among the Indians:By David Brainerd,Minister of the Gospel, and Missionary from the said Society:Published by the Reverend and worthy Correspondents of the said Society." __________________________________________________________________ PREFACE. The design of this publication is to give God the glory of his distinguishing grace, and gratify the pious curiosity of those who are waiting and praying for that blessed time, when the Son of God, in a more extensive sense than has yet been accomplished, shall receive "the heathen for his inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for a possession." Whenever any of the guilty race of mankind are awakened to a just concern for their eternal interest, are humbled at the footstool of a sovereign God, and are persuaded and enabled to accept the offers of redeeming love, it must always be acknowledged a wonderful work of divine grace, which demands our thankful praises. But doubtless it is a more affecting evidence of almighty power, a more illustrious display of sovereign mercy, when those are enlightened with the knowledge of salvation, who have for many ages dwelt in the grossest darkness and heathenism, and are brought to a cheerful subjection to the government of our divine Redeemer, who from generation to generation had remained the voluntary slaves of "the prince of darkness." This is that delightful scene which will present itself to the reader's view, while he attentively peruses the following pages. Nothing certainly can be more agreeable to a benevolent and religious mind, than to see those that were sunk in the most degenerate state of human nature, at once, not only renounce those barbarous customs they had been inured to from their infancy, but surprisingly transformed into the character of real and devout Christians. This mighty change was brought about by the plain and faithful preaching of the gospel, attended with an uncommon effusion of the divine Spirit, under the ministry of the Reverend David Brainerd, a Missionary employed by the Honourable Society in Scotland, for propagating Christian Knowledge. And surely it will administer abundant matter of praise and thanksgiving to that honourable body, to find that their generous attempt to send the gospel among the Indian nations upon the borders of New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania, has met with such surprising success. It would perhaps have been more agreeable to the taste of politer readers, if the following Journal had been cast into a different method, and formed into one connected narrative. But the worthy author, amidst his continued labours, had no time to spare for such an undertaking. Besides, the pious reader will take a peculiar pleasure to see this work described in its native simplicity, and the operations of the Spirit upon the minds of these poor benighted pagans, laid down just in the method and order in which they happened. This, it must be confessed, will occasion frequent repetitions; but these, as they tend to give a fuller view of this amazing dispensation of divine grace in its rise and progress, we trust, will be easily forgiven. When we see such numbers of the most ignorant and barbarous of mankind, in the space of a few months, "turned from darkness to light, and from the power of sin and Satan unto God," it gives us encouragement to wait and pray for that blessed time, when our victorious Redeemer shall, in a more signal manner than he has yet done, display the "banner of his cross," march on from "conquering to conquer, till the kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of our Lord and of his Christ." Yea, we cannot but lift up our heads with joy, and hope that it may be the dawn of that bright and illustrious day, when the Sun Of Righteousness shall "arise and shine from one end of the earth to the other;" when, to use the language of the inspired prophets, "the Gentiles shall come to his light, and sings to the brightness of his rising;" in consequence of which, "the wilderness and solitary places shall be glad, and the desert rejoice and blossom as the rose." It is doubtless the duty of all, in their different stations, and according to their respective capacities, to use their utmost endeavours to bring forward this promised, this desired day. There is a great want of schoolmasters among these Christianized Indians, to instruct their youth in the English language, and the principles of the christian faith; for this as yet, there is no certain provision made: [418] if any are inclined to contribute to so good a design, we are persuaded they will do an acceptable service to the "kingdom of the Redeemer." And we earnestly desire the most indigent to join, at least, in their wishes and prayers, that this work may prosper more and more, till the "whole earth is filled with the glory of the Lord." The CORRESPONDENTS. THE RISE AND PROGRESS OF A REMARKABLE WORK OF GRACE, &C. __________________________________________________________________ PART I. FROM A. D. 1745 JUNE 19th TO NOV. 4th, AT CROSSWEEKSUNG AND FORKS OF DELAWARE. CROSSWEEKSUNG, in New Jersey, June, 1745. June 19. Having spent most of my time for more than a year past amongst the Indians in the Forks of Delaware in Pennsylvania; and having in that time made two journeys to Susquehannah river, far back in that province, in order to treat with the Indians there, respecting Christianity; and not having had any considerable appearance of special success in either of those places, which damped my spirits, and was not a little discouraging to me; upon hearing that there was a number of Indians in and about a place called (by the Indians) Crossweeksung in New Jersey, near fourscore miles south-eastward from the Forks of Delaware, I determined to make them a visit, and see what might be done towards the Christianizing of them; and accordingly arrived among them this day. I found very few persons at the place I visited, and perceived the Indians in these parts were very much scattered, there being not more than two or three families in a place, and these small settlements six, ten, fifteen, twenty, and thirty miles, and some more, from the place I was then at. However, I preached to those few I found, who appeared well disposed, and not inclined to object and cavil, as the Indians had frequently done elsewhere. When I had concluded my discourse, I informed them (there being none but a few women and children) that I would willingly visit them again the next day. Whereupon they readily set out, and travelled ten or fifteen miles, in order to give notice to some of their friends at that distance. These women, like the woman of Samaria, seemed desirous that others might "see the man that told them what they had done" in their lives past, and the misery that attended their idolatrous ways. June 20. Visited and preached to the Indians again as I proposed. Numbers more were gathered at the invitations of their friends, who heard me the day before. These also appeared as attentive, orderly, and well disposed as the others. And none made any objection, as Indians in other places have usually done. June 22. Preached to the Indians again. Their number, which at first consisted of about seven or eight persons, was now increased to near thirty. There was not only a solemn attention among them, but some considerable impressions, it was apparent, were made upon their minds by divine truths. Some began to feel their misery and perishing state, and appeared concerned for a deliverance from it. Lord's day, June 23. Preached to the Indians, and spent the day with them. Their number still increased; and all with one consent seemed to rejoice in my coming among them. Not a word of opposition was heard from any of them against Christianity, although in times past they had been as opposite to any thing of that nature, as any Indians whatsoever. And some of them not many months before, were enraged with my interpreter, because he attempted to teach them something of Christianity. June 24. Preached to the Indians at their desire, and upon their own motion. To see poor pagans desirous of hearing the gospel of Christ, animated me to discourse to them, although I was now very weakly, and my spirits much exhausted. They attended with the greatest seriousness and diligence; and there was some concern for their souls' salvation apparent among them. June 27. Visited and preached to the Indians again. Their number now amounted to about forty persons. Their solemnity and attention still continued; and a considerable concern for their souls became very apparent among sundry of them. June 28. The Indians being now gathered, a considerable number of them, from their several and distant habitations, requested me to preach twice a day to them, being desirous to hear as much as they possibly could while I was with them. I cheerfully complied with their motion, and could not but admire the goodness of God, who, I was persuaded, had inclined them thus to inquire after the way of salvation. June 29. Preached again twice to the Indians. Saw, as I thought, the hand of God very evidently, and in a manner somewhat remarkable, making provision for their subsistence together, in order to their being instructed in divine things. For this day and the day before, with only walking a little way from the place of our daily meeting, they killed three deer, which were a seasonable supply for their wants, and without which, it seems, they could not have subsisted together in order to attend the means of grace. Lord's day, June 30. Preached twice this day also. Observed yet more concern and affection among the poor heathens than ever; so that they even constrained me to tarry yet longer with them; although my constitution was exceedingly worn out, and my health much impaired by my late fatigues and labours, and especially by my late journey to Susquehannah in May last, in which I lodged on the ground for several weeks together. July 1. Preached again twice to a very serious and attentive assembly of Indians, they having now learned to attend the worship of God with Christian decency in all respects. There were now between forty and fifty, persons of them present, old and young. I spent some considerable time in discoursing with them in a more private way, inquiring of them what they remembered of the great truths that had been taught them from day to day; and may justly say, it was amazing to see how they had received and retained the instructions given them, and what a measure of knowledge some of them had acquired in a few days. July 2. Was obliged to leave these Indians at Crossweeksung, thinking it my duty, as soon as health would admit, again to visit those at the Forks of Delaware. When I came to take leave of them, and spoke something particularly to each of them, they all earnestly inquired when I would come again, and expressed a great desire of being further instructed. And of their own accord agreed, that when I should come again, they would all meet and live together during my continuance with them; and that they would do their utmost endeavours to gather all the Indians in these parts that were yet further remote. And when I parted, one told me with many tears, "She wished God would change her heart:" another, that "she wanted to find Christ:" and an old man that had been one of their chiefs, wept bitterly with concern for his soul. I then promised them to return as speedily as my health and business elsewhere would admit, and felt not a little concerned at parting, lest the good impressions then apparent upon numbers of them, might decline and wear off, when the means came to cease; and yet could not but hope that he who, I trusted, had begun a good work among them, and who I knew did not stand in need of means to carry it on, would maintain and promote it. At the same time I must confess, that I had often seen encouraging appearances among the Indians elsewhere prove wholly abortive; and it appeared the favour would be so great, if God should now, after I had passed through so considerable a series of almost fruitless labours and fatigues, and after my rising hopes had been so often frustrated among these poor pagans, give me any special success in my labours with them. I could not believe, and scarce dared to hope, that the event would be so happy, and scarce ever found myself more suspended between hope and fear, in any affair, or at any time, than this. This encouraging disposition and readiness to receive instruction, now apparent among these Indians, seems to have been the happy effect of the conviction that one or two of them met with some time since at the Forks of Delaware, who have since endeavoured to show their friends the evil of idolatry, &c. And although the other Indians seemed but little to regard, but rather to deride them, yet this, perhaps, has put them into a thinking posture of mind, or at least, given them some thoughts about Christianity, and excited in some of them a curiosity to hear, and so made way for the present encouraging attention. An apprehension that this might be the case here, has given me encouragement that God may in such a manner bless the means I have used with Indians in other places, where there is as yet no appearance of it. If so, may his name have the glory of it; for I have learned by experience that he only can open the ear, engage the attention, and incline the heart of poor benighted, prejudiced pagans to receive instruction. Forks Of Delaware, in Pennsylvania, July, 1745. Lord's day, July 14. Discoursed to the Indians twice, several of whom appeared concerned, and were, I have reason to think, in some measure convinced by the divine Spirit of their sin and misery; so that they wept much the whole time of divine service. Afterwards discoursed to a number of white people then present. July 18. Preached to my people, who attended diligently, beyond what had been common among these Indians: and some of them appeared concerned for their souls. Lord's day, July 21. Preached to the Indians first, then to a number of white people present, and in the afternoon to the Indians again. Divine truth seemed to make very considerable impressions upon several of them, and caused the tears to flow freely. Afterwards I baptized my interpreter and his wife, who were the first I baptized among the Indians. They are both persons of some experimental knowledge in religion; have both been awakened to a solemn concern for their souls; have to appearance been brought to a sense of their misery and undoneness in themselves; have both appeared to be comforted with divine consolations; and it is apparent both have passed a great, and I cannot but hope a saving, change. It may perhaps be satisfactory and agreeable that I should give some brief relation of the man's exercise and experience since he has been with me, especially seeing he is employed as my interpreter to others. When I first employed him in this business in the beginning of summer, 1744, he was well fitted for his work in regard of his acquaintance with the Indian and English language, as well as with the manners of both nations; and in regard of his desire that the Indians should conform to the customs and manners of the English, and especially to their manner of living. But he seemed to have little or no impression of religion upon his mind, and in that respect was very unfit for his work, being incapable of understanding and communicating to others many things of importance; so that I laboured under great disadvantages in addressing the Indians, for want of his having an experimental, as well as more doctrinal, acquaintance with divine truths; and, at times, my spirits sunk and were much discouraged under this difficulty, especially when I observed that divine truths made little or no impressions upon his mind for many weeks together. He indeed behaved soberly after I employed him, (although before he had been a hard drinker,) and seemed honestly engaged as far as he was capable in the performance of his work; and especially he appeared very desirous that the Indians should renounce their heathenish notions and practices, and conform to the customs of the Christian world. But still he seemed to have no concern about his own soul, till he had been with me a considerable time. Near the latter end of July, 1744, I preached to an assembly of white people, with more freedom and fervency than I could possibly address the Indians with, without their having first attained a greater measure of doctrinal knowledge. At this time he was present, and was somewhat awakened to a concern for his soul; so that the next day he discoursed freely with me about his spiritual concerns, and gave me an opportunity to use further endeavours to fasten the impressions of his perishing state upon his mind: and I could plainly perceive for some time after this, that he addressed the Indians with more concern and fervency than he had formerly done. But these impressions seemed quickly to decline, and he remained in a great measure careless and secure, until some time late in the fall of the year following, at which time he fell into a weak and languishing state of body, and continued much disordered for several weeks together. At this season divine truth took hold of him, and made deep impressions upon his mind. He was brought under great concern for his soul, and his exercise was not now transient and unsteady, but constant and abiding, so that his mind was burdened from day to day; and it was now his great inquiry, "What he should do to be saved?" His spiritual trouble prevailed, till at length his sleep, in a measure, departed from him, and he had little rest day or night; but walked about under a great pressure of mind, (for he was still able to walk,) and appeared like another man to his neighbours, who could not but observe his behaviour with wonder. After he had been some time under this exercise, while he was striving to obtain mercy, he says, there seemed to be an impassable mountain before him. He was pressing towards heaven, as he thought, but "his way was hedged up with thorns, that he could not stir an inch further." He looked this way and that way, but could find no way at all. He thought, if he could but make his way through these thorns and briers, and climb up the first steep pitch of the mountain, that then there might be hope for him; but no way or means could he find to accomplish this. Here he laboured for a time, but all in vain; he saw it was impossible, he says, for him ever to help himself through this insupportable difficulty. He felt it signified nothing, "it signified just nothing at all for him to strive and struggle any more." And here, he says, he gave over striving, and felt that it was a gone case with him, as to his own power, and that all his attempts were, and for ever would be, vain and fruitless. And yet was more calm and composed under this view of things, than he had been while striving to help himself. While he was giving me this account of his exercise, I was not without fears that what he related was but the working of his own imagination, and not the effect of any divine illumination of mind. But before I had time to discover my fears, he added, that at this time he felt himself in a miserable and perishing condition; that he saw plainly what he had been doing all his days, and that he had never done one good thing, as he expressed it. He knew, he said, he was not guilty of some wicked actions that he knew some others guilty of. He had not been used to steal, quarrel, and murder; the latter of which vices are common among the Indians. He likewise knew that he had done many things that were right; he had been kind to his neighbours, &c. But still his cry was, "that he had never done one good thing." I knew, said he, that I had not been so bad as some others in some things, and that I had done many things which folks call good; but all this did me no good now, I saw that "all was bad, and that I never had done one good thing;" meaning that he had never done any thing from a right principle, and with a right view, though he had done many things that were materially good and right. And now I thought, said he, that I must sink down to hell, that there was no hope for me, "because I never could do any thing that was good;" and if God let me alone never so long, and I should try never so much, still I should do nothing but what is bad, &c. This further account of his exercise satisfied me that it was not the mere working of his imagination, since he appeared so evidently to die to himself, and to be divorced from a dependence upon his own righteousness, and good deeds, which mankind in a fallen state are so much attached to, and inclined to hope for salvation upon. There was one thing more in his view of things at this time that was very remarkable. He not only saw, he says, what a miserable state he himself was in, but he likewise saw the world around him, in general, were in the same perishing circumstances, notwithstanding the profession many of thorn made of Christianity, and the hope they entertained of obtaining everlasting happiness. And this he saw clearly, "as if he was now awaked out of sleep, or had a cloud taken from before his eyes." He saw that the life he had lived was the way to eternal death, that he was now on the brink of endless misery: and when he looked round, he saw multitudes of others who had lived the same life with himself, persons who had no more goodness than he, and yet dreamed that they were safe enough, as he had formerly done. He was fully persuaded by their conversation and behaviour, that they had never felt their sin and misery, as he now felt his. After he had been for some time in this condition, sensible of the impossibility of his helping himself by any thing he could do, or of being delivered by any created arm, so that he "had given up all for lost," as to his own attempts, and was become more calm and composed; then, he says, it was borne in upon his mind as if it had been audibly spoken to him, "There is hope, there is hope." Whereupon his soul seemed to rest and be in some measure satisfied, though he had no considerable joy. He cannot here remember distinctly any views he had of Christ, or give any clear account of his soul's acceptance of him, which makes his experience appear the more doubtful, and renders it less satisfactory to himself and others, than it might be, if he could remember distinctly the apprehensions and actings of his mind at this season. But these exercises of soul were attended and followed with a very great change in the man, so that it might justly be said, he was become another man, if not a new man. His conversation and deportment were much altered, and even the careless world could not but admire what had befallen him to make so great a change in his temper, discourse, and behaviour. And especially there was a surprising alteration in his public performances. He now addressed the Indians with admirable fervency, and scarce knew when to leave off: and sometimes when I had concluded my discourse, and was returning homeward, he would tarry behind to repeat and inculcate what had been spoken. His change is abiding, and his life, so far as I know, unblemished to this day, though it is now more than six months since he experienced this change; in which space of time he has been as much exposed to strong drink, as possible, in divers places where it has been moving free as water; and yet has never, that I know of, discovered any hankering desire after it. He seems to have a very considerable experience of spiritual exercise, and discourses feelingly of the conflicts and consolations of a real Christian. His heart echoes to the soul-humbling Doctrine of grace, and he never appears better pleased than when he hears of the absolute sovereignty of God, and the salvation of sinners in a way of mere free grace. He has likewise of late had more satisfaction respecting his own state, has been much enlivened and assisted in his work, so that he has been a great comfort to me. And upon a view and strict observation of his serious and savoury conversation, his Christian temper, and unblemished behaviour for so considerable a time, as well as his experience I have given an account of, I think that I have reason to hope that he is "created anew in Christ Jesus to good works." His name is Moses 'Tinda Tauta-my; he is about fifty years of age, and is pretty well acquainted with the pagan notions and customs of his countrymen, and so is the better able now to expose them. He has, I am persuaded, already been, and I trust will yet be, a blessing to the other Indians. July 23. Preached to the Indians, but had few hearers: those who are constantly at home seem of late to be under some serious impressions of a religious nature. July 26. Preached to my people, and afterwards baptized my interpreter's children. Lord's day, July 28. Preached again, and perceived my people, at least some of them, more thoughtful than ever about their souls' concerns. I was told by some, that their seeing my interpreter and others baptized, made them more concerned than any thing they had ever seen or heard before. There was indeed a considerable appearance of divine power amongst them when that ordinance was administered. May that divine influence spread and increase more abundantly! July 30. Discoursed to a number of my people, and gave them some particular advice and direction, being now about to leave them for the present, in order to renew my visit to the Indians in New Jersey. They were very attentive to my discourse, and earnestly desirous to know when I designed to return to them again. Crossweeksung, in New Jersey, August, 1745. Aug. 3. I visited the Indians in these parts in June last, and tarried with them some considerable time, preaching almost daily: at which season God was pleased to pour upon them a spirit of awakening and concern for their souls, and surprisingly to engage their attention to divine truths. I now found them serious, and a number of them under deep concern for an interest in Christ; their convictions of their sinful and perishing state having, in my absence from them, been much promoted by the labours and endeavours of the Reverend Mr. William Tennent, to whom I had advised them to apply for direction, and whose house they frequented much while I was gone. I preached to them this day with some view to Rev. xxii. 17. "And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely:" though I could not pretend to handle the subject methodically among them. The Lord, I am persuaded, enabled me, in a manner somewhat uncommon, to set before them the Lord Jesus Christ as a kind and compassionate Saviour, inviting distressed and perishing sinners to accept everlasting mercy. And a surprising concern soon became apparent among them. There were about twenty adult persons together, (many of the Indians at remote places not having as yet had time to come since my return hither,) and not above two that I could see with dry eyes. Some were much concerned, and discovered vehement longings of soul after Christ, to save them from the misery they felt and feared. Lord's day, Aug. 4. Being invited by a neighbouring minister to assist in the administration of the Lord's supper, I complied with his request, and took the Indians along with me; and not only those that were together the day before, but many more that were coming to hear me; so that there were near fifty in all, old and young. They attended the several discourses of the day, and some of them that could understand English, were much affected, and all seemed to have their concern in some measure raised. Now a change in their manners began to appear very visible. In the evening when they came to sup together, they would not taste a morsel till they had sent to me to come and ask a blessing on their food: at which time sundry of them wept, especially when I minded them how they had in times past eat their feasts in honour to devils, and neglected to thank God for them. Aug. 5. After a sermon had been preached by another minister, I preached, and concluded the public work of the solemnity from John vii. 37. "In the last day," &c. and in my discourse addressed the Indians in particular, who sat by themselves in a part of the house; at which time one or two of them were struck with deep concern, as they afterwards told me, who had been little affected before: others had their concern increased to a considerable degree. In the evening (the greater part of them being at the house where I lodged) I discoursed to them, and found them universally engaged about their souls' concerns, inquiring "What they should do to be saved?" And all their conversation among themselves turned upon religious matters, in which they were much assisted by my interpreter, who was with them day and night. This day there was one woman, who had been much concerned for her soul, ever since she first heard me preach in June last, who obtained comfort, I trust, solid and well grounded: she seemed to be filled with love to Christ, at the same time behaved humbly and tenderly, and appeared afraid of nothing so much as of grieving and offending him whom her soul loved. Aug. 6. In the morning I discoursed to the Indians at the house where I lodged: many of them were then much affected, and appeared surprisingly tender, so that a few words about their souls' concerns would cause the tears to flow freely, and produce many sobs and groans. In the afternoon, they being returned to the place where I had usually preached amongst them, I again discoursed to them there. There were about fifty-five persons in all, about forty that were capable of attending divine service with understanding. I insisted upon 1 John iv. 10. "Herein is love," &c. They seemed eager of hearing; but there appeared nothing very remarkable, except their attention, till near the close of my discourse; and then divine truths were attended with a surprising influence, and produced a great concern among them. There was scarce three in forty that could refrain from tears and bitter cries. They all, as one, seemed in an agony of soul to obtain an interest in Christ; and the more I discoursed of the love and compassion of God in sending his Son to suffer for the sins of men, and the more I invited them to come and partake of his love, the more their distress was aggravated, because they felt themselves unable to come. It was surprising to see how their hearts seemed to be pierced with the tender and melting invitations of the gospel, when there was not a word of terror spoken to them. There were this day two persons that obtained relief and comfort, which (when I came to discourse with them particularly) appeared solid, rational, and scriptural. After I had inquired into the grounds of their comfort, and said many things I thought proper to them, I asked them what they wanted God to do further for them? They replied, "They wanted Christ should wipe their hearts quite clean," &c. Surprising were now the doings of the Lord, that I can say no less of this day (and I need say no more of it) than that the arm of the Lord was powerfully and marvellously revealed in it. Aug. 7. Preached to the Indians from Isa. liii. 3.-10. There was a remarkable influence attending the word, and great concern in the assembly; but scarce equal to what appeared the day before, that is, not quite so universal. However, most were much affected, and many in great distress for their souls; and some few could neither go nor stand, but lay flat on the ground, as if pierced at heart, crying incessantly for mercy. Several were newly awakened, and it was remarkable, that as fast as they came from remote places round about, the Spirit of God seemed to seize them with concern for their souls. After public service was concluded, I found two persons more that had newly met with comfort, of whom I had good hopes: and a third that I could not but entertain some hopes of, whose case did not appear so clear as the other; so that here were now six in all that had got some relief from their spiritual distresses, and five whose experience appeared very clear and satisfactory. And it is worthy of remark, that those who obtained comfort first, were in general deeply affected with concern for their souls, when I preached to them in June last. Aug. 8. In the afternoon I preached to the Indians; their number was about sixty-five persons, men, women, and children: I discoursed from Luke xiv. 16-23. and was favoured with uncommon freedom in my discourse. There was much visible concern among them while I was discoursing publicly; but afterwards when I spoke to one and another more particularly, whom I perceived under much concern, the power of God seemed to descend upon the assembly "like a rushing mighty wind," and with an astonishing energy bore down all before it. I stood amazed at the influence that seized the audience almost universally, and could compare it to nothing more aptly than the irresistible force of a mighty torrent or swelling deluge, that with its insupportable weight and pressure bears down and sweeps before it whatever is in its way. Almost all persons of all ages were bowed down with concern together, and scarce one was able to withstand the shock of this surprising operation. Old men and women who had been drunken wretches for many years, and some little children not more than six or seven years of age, appeared in distress for their souls, as well as persons of middle age. And it was apparent these children (some of them at least) were not merely frighted with seeing the general concern; but were made sensible of their danger, time badness of their hearts, and their misery without Christ, as some of them expressed it. The most stubborn hearts were now obliged to bow. A principal man among the Indians, who before was most secure and self-righteous, and thought his state good because he knew more than the generality of the Indians had formerly done, and who with a great degree of confidence the day before, told me "he had been a Christian more than ten years," was now brought under solemn concern for his soul, and wept bitterly. Another man advanced in years, who had been a murderer, a powow, (or conjurer,) and a notorious drunkard, was likewise brought now to cry for mercy with many tears, and to complain much that he could be no more concerned when he saw his danger so very great. They were almost universally praying and crying for mercy in every part of the house, and many out of doors, and numbers could neither go nor stand. Their concern was so great, each one for himself, that none seemed to take any notice of those about them, but each prayed freely for himself. And, I am led to think, they were to their own apprehension as much retired as if they had been individually by themselves in the thickest desert; or, I believe rather, that they thought nothing about any but themselves and their own states, and so were every one praying apart, although all together. It seemed to me there was now an exact fulfilment of that prophecy, Zech. xii. 10, 11, 12.. for there was now "a great mourning, like the mourning of Hadadrimmon;" and each seemed to "mourn apart." Methought this had a near resemblance to the day of God's power mentioned Josh. x. 14. for I must say, I never saw any day like it in all respects: it was a day wherein I am persuaded the Lord did much to destroy the kingdom of darkness among this people. This concern in general was most rational and just, those who had been awakened any considerable time, complained more especially of the badness of their hearts; and those newly awakened of the badness of their lives and actions past; and all were afraid of the anger of God, and of everlasting misery as the desert of their sins. Some of the white people, who came out of curiosity to "hear what this babbler would say" to the poor ignorant Indians, were much awakened, and some appeared to be wounded with a view of their perishing state. Those who had lately obtained relief, were filled with comfort at this season; they appeared calm and composed, and seemed to rejoice in Christ Jesus; and some of them took their distressed friends by the hand, telling them of the goodness of Christ, and the comfort that is to be enjoyed in him, and thence invited them to come and give up their hearts to him. And I could observe some of them in the most honest and unaffected manner, (without any design of being taken notice of,) lifting up their eyes to heaven, as if crying for mercy, while they saw the distress of the poor souls around them. There was one remarkable instance of awakening this day, that I cannot but take particular notice of here. A young Indian woman, who I believe never knew before she had a soul, nor ever thought of any such thing, hearing that there was something strange among the Indians, came it seems to see what was the matter. In her way to the Indians she called at my lodgings, and when I told her I designed presently to preach to the Indians, laughed and seemed to mock; but went however to them. I had not proceeded far in my public discourse before she felt effectually that she had a soul; and before I had concluded my discourse, was so convinced of her sin and misery, and so distressed with concern for her soul's salvation, that she seemed like one pierced through with a dart, and cried out incessantly. She could neither go nor stand, nor sit on her seat without being held up. After public service was over, she lay flat on the ground praying earnestly, and would take no notice of, nor give any answer to, any that spoke to her. I hearkened to know what she said, and perceived the burden of her prayer to be, Guttummaukalummeh wechaumeh kmeleh Ndah, i. e. "Have mercy on me, and help me to give you my heart." And thus she continued praying incessantly for many hours together. This was indeed a surprising day of God's power, and seemed enough to convince an atheist of the truth, importance, and power of God's word. Aug. 9. Spent almost the whole day with the Indians, the former part of it in discoursing to many of them privately, and especially to some who had lately received comfort, and endeavouring to inquire into the grounds of it, as well as to give them some proper instructions, cautions, and directions. In the afternoon discoursed to them publicly. There were now present about seventy persons, old and young. I opened and applied the parable of the sower, Matt. xiii. Was enabled to discourse with much plainness, and found afterwards that this discourse was very instructive to them. There were many tears among them while I was discoursing publicly, but no considerable cry: yet some were much affected with a few words spoken from Matt. xi. 28. "Come unto me, all ye that labour," &c. with which I concluded my discourse. But while I was discoursing near night to two or three of the awakened persons, a divine influence seemed to attend what was spoken to them in a powerful manner, which caused the persons to cry out in anguish of soul, although I spoke not a word of terror; but, on the contrary, set before them the fulness and all-sufficiency of Christ's merits, and his willingness to save all that came to him; and thereupon pressed them to come without delay. The cry of these was soon heard by others, who, though scattered before, immediately gathered round. I then proceeded in the same strain of gospel-invitation, till they were all melted into tears and cries, except two or three; and seemed in the greatest distress to find and secure an interest in the great Redeemer. Some who had but little more than a ruffle made in their passions the day before, seemed now to be deeply affected and wounded at heart: and the concern in general appeared near as prevalent as it was the day before. There was indeed a very great mourning among them, and yet every one seemed to mourn apart. For so great was their concern, that almost every one was praying and crying for himself, as if none had been near. Guttummaukalummeh, guttummaukalummeh, i. e. "Have mercy upon me, have mercy upon me;" was the common cry. It was very affecting to see the poor Indians, who the other day were hallooing and yelling in their idolatrous feasts and drunken frolics, now crying to God with such importunity for an interest in his dear Son! Found two or three persons, who, I had reason to hope, had taken comfort upon good grounds since the evening before: and these, with others that had obtained comfort, were together, and seemed to rejoice much that God was carrying on his work with such power upon others. Aug. 10. Rode to the Indians, and began to discourse more privately to those who had obtained comfort and satisfaction; endeavouring to instruct, direct, caution, and comfort them. But others being eager of hearing every word that related to spiritual concerns, soon came together one after another; and when I had discoursed to the young converts more than half an hour, they seemed much melted with divine things, and earnestly desirous to be with Christ. I told them of the godly soul's perfect purity and full enjoyment of Christ, immediately upon its separation from the body; and that it would be for ever inconceivably more happy than they had ever been for any short space of time, when Christ seemed near to them in prayer or other duties. And that I might make way for speaking of the resurrection of the body, and thence of the complete blessedness of the man, I said, But perhaps some of you will say, I love my body as well as my soul, and I cannot bear to think that my body should lie dead if my soul is happy. To which they all cheerfully replied, Muttoh, muttoh, (before I had opportunity to prosecute what I designed respecting the resurrection,) No, no. They did not regard their bodies, if their souls might but be with Christ. Then they appeared "willing to be absent from the body that they might be present with the Lord." When I had spent some time with these, I turned to the other Indians, and spoke to them from Luke xix. 10. "For the Son of man is come to seek," &c. I had not discoursed long before their concern rose to a great degree, and the house was filled with cries and groans. And when I insisted on the compassion and care of the Lord Jesus Christ for those that were lost, who thought themselves undone, and could find no way of escape, this melted them down the more, and aggravated their distress, that they could not find and come to so kind a Saviour. Sundry persons who before had been but slightly awakened, were now deeply wounded with a sense of their sin and misery. And one man in particular, who was never before awakened, was now made to feel that "the word of the Lord was quick and powerful, sharper than any two-edged sword." He seemed to be pierced at heart with distress, and his concern appeared most rational and scriptural: for he said, "all the wickedness of his past life was brought fresh to his remembrance, and he saw all the vile actions he had done formerly as if done but yesterday." Found one that had newly received comfort, after pressing distress from day to day. Could not but rejoice and admire divine goodness in what appeared this day. There seems to be some good done by every discourse; some newly awakened every day, amid some comforted. It was refreshing to observe the conduct of those that had obtained comfort, while others were distressed with fear and concern; that is, lifting up their hearts to God for them. Lord's day, Aug. 11. Discoursed in the forenoon from the parable of the prodigal son, Luke xv. Observed no such remarkable effect of the word upon the assembly as in days past. There were numbers of careless spectators of the white people; some Quakers, and others. In the afternoon I discoursed upon a part of St. Peter's sermon, Acts ii. and at the close of my discourse to the Indians, made an address to the white people, and divine truths seemed then to be attended with power both to English and Indians. Several of the white heathen were awakened, and could not longer be idle spectators, but found they had souls to save or lose as well as the Indians; and a great concern spread through the whole assembly. So that this also appeared to be a day of God's power, especially towards the conclusion of it, although the influence attending the word seemed scarce so powerful now as in some days past. The number of the Indians, old and young, was now upwards of seventy, and one or two were newly awakened this day, who never had appeared to be moved with concern for their souls before. Those who had obtained relief and comfort, and had given hopeful evidences of having passed a saving change, appeared humble amid devout, and behaved in an agreeable and Christian-like manner. I was refreshed to see the tenderness of conscience manifest in some of them, one instance of which I cannot but notice. Perceiving one of them very sorrowful in the morning, I inquired into the cause of her sorrow, and found the difficulty was, she had been angry with her child the evening before, and was now exercised with fears, lest her anger had been inordinate and sinful, which so grieved her, that she waked and began to sob before day-light, and continued weeping for several hours together. Aug. 14. Spent the day with the Indians. There was one of them who had some time since put away his wife, (as is common among them,) and taken another woman, and being now brought under some serious impressions, was much concerned about that affair in particular, and seemed fully convinced of the wickedness of that practice, and earnestly desirous to know what God would have him do in his present circumstances. When the law of God respecting marriage had been opened to them, and the cause of his leaving his wife inquired into; and when it appeared she had given him no just occasion by unchastity to desert her, and that she was willing to forgive his past misconduct, and to live peaceably with him for the future, and that she moreover insisted on it as her right to enjoy him; he was then told, that it was his indispensable duty to renounce the woman he had last taken, and receive the other who was his proper wife, and live peaceably with her during life. With this he readily and cheerfully complied, and thereupon publicly renounced the woman he had last taken, and publicly promised to live with and be kind to his wife during life, she also promising the same to him. And here appeared a clear demonstration of the power of God's word upon their hearts. I suppose a few weeks before, the whole world could not have persuaded this man to a compliance with Christian rules in this affair. I was not without fears, lest this proceeding might be like putting "new wine into old bottles," and that some might be prejudiced against Christianity, when they saw the demands made by it. But the maim being much concerned about the matter, the determination of it could be deferred no longer, and it seemed to have a good, rather than an ill, effect among the Indians, who generally owned, that the laws of Christ were good and right respecting the affairs of marriage. In the afternoon I preached to them from the apostle's discourse to Cornelius, Acts x. 34., &c. There appeared some affectionate concern among them, though not equal to what appeared in several of the former days. They still attended and heard as for their lives, and the Lord's work seemed still to be promoted, and propagated among them. Aug. 15. Preached from Luke iv. 16-21. "And he came to Nazareth," &c. The word was attended with power upon the hearts of the hearers. There was much concern, many tears, and affecting cries among them, and some in a special manner were deeply wounded and distressed for their souls. There were some newly awakened who came but this week, and convictions seemed to be promoted in others. Those who had received comfort, were likewise refreshed and strengthened, and the work of grace appeared to advance in all respects. The passions of the congregation in general were not so much moved, as in some days past, but their hearts seemed as solemnly and deeply affected with divine truths as ever, at least in many instances, although the concern did not seem to be so universal, and to reach every individual in such a manner as it had appeared to do some days before. Aug. 16. Spent a considerable time in conversing privately with sundry of the Indians. Found one that had got relief and comfort, after pressing concern, and could not but hope, when I came to discourse particularly with her, that her comfort was of the right kind. In the afternoon, I preached to them from John vi. 26-34. Toward the close of my discourse, divine truths were attended with considerable power upon the audience, and more especially after public service was over, when I particularly addressed sundry distressed persons. There was a great concern for their souls spread pretty generally among them; but especially there were two persons newly awakened to a sense of their sin and misery, one of whom was lately come, and the other had all along been very attentive, and desirous of being awakened, but could never before have any lively view of her perishing state. But now her concern and spiritual distress was such, that, I thought, I had never seen any more pressing. Sundry old men were also in distress for their souls; so that they could not refrain from weeping and crying out aloud, and their bitter groans were the most convincing, as well as affecting, evidence of the reality and depth of their inward anguish. God is powerfully at work among them! True and genuine convictions of sin are daily promoted in many instances, and some are newly awakened from time to time, although some few, who felt a commotion in their passions in days past, seem now to discover that their hearts were never duly affected. I never saw the work of God appear so independent of means as at this time. I discoursed to the people, and spoke what, I suppose, had a proper tendency to promote convictions; but God's manner of working upon them appeared so entirely supernatural, and above means, that I could scarce believe he used me as an instrument, or what I spake as means of carrying on his work; for it seemed, as I thought, to have no connexion with, nor dependence upon, means in any respect. And although I could not but continue to use the means which I thought proper for the promotion of the work, yet God seemed, as I apprehended, to work entirely without them. I seemed to do nothing, and indeed to have nothing to do, but to "stand still and see the salvation of God;" and found myself obliged and delighted to say, "Not unto us," not unto instruments and means, "but to thy name be glory." God appeared to work entirely alone, and I saw no room to attribute any part of this work to any created arm. Aug. 17. Spent much time in private conferences with the Indians. Found one who had newly obtained relief and comfort, after a long season of spiritual trouble and distress he having been one of my hearers in the Forks of Delaware for more than a year, and now followed me here under deep concern for his soul and had abundant reason to hope that his comfort was well grounded, and truly divine. Afterwards discoursed publicly from Acts viii. 29-39. and took occasion to treat concerning baptism, in order to their being instructed and prepared to partake of that ordinance. They were yet hungry and thirsty for the word of God, and appeared unwearied in their attendance upon it. Lord's day, Aug. 18. Preached in the forenoon to an assembly of white people, made up of Presbyterians, Baptists, Quakers, &c. Afterwards preached to the Indians from John vi. 35-40. "He that eateth my flesh," &c. There was considerable concern visible among them, though not equal to what has frequently appeared of late. Aug. 19. Preached from Isa. lv. 1. "Ho, every one that thirsteth," &c. Divine truths were attended with power upon those who had received comfort, and others also. The former were sweetly melted and refreshed with divine invitations, the latter much concerned for their souls, that they might obtain an interest in these glorious gospel-provisions that were set before them. There were numbers of poor impotent souls that waited at the pool for healing, and the angel seemed, as at other times of late, to trouble the waters; so that there was yet a most desirable and comfortable prospect of the spiritual recovery of diseased, perishing sinners. Aug. 23. Spent some time with the Indians in private discourse; afterwards preached to them from John vi. 44-50. "No man can come to me, except," &c. There was, as has been usual, a great attention and some affection among them. Several appeared deeply concerned for their souls, and could not but express their inward anguish by tears and cries. But the amazing divine influence that has been so powerfully among them in general, seems, at present, in some degree abated, at least in regard of its universality, though many who have got no special comfort, still retain deep impressions of divine things. Aug. 24. Spent the forenoon in discoursing to some of the Indians, in order to their receiving the ordinance of baptism. When I had opened the nature of the ordinance, the obligations attending it, the duty of devoting ourselves to God in it, and the privilege of being in covenant with him, sundry of them seemed to be filled with love to God, and delighted with the thoughts of giving up themselves to him in that solemn and public manner, melted and refreshed with the hopes of enjoying the blessed Redeemer. Afterwards I discoursed publicly from 1 Thess. iv. 13-17. "But I would not have you be ignorant," &c. There was a solemn attention, and some visible concern and affection in the time of public service, which was afterwards increased by some further exhortation given them to come to Christ, and give up their hearts to him, that they might be fitted to "ascend up and meet him in the air," when he shall "descend with a shout, and time voice of the archangel." There were several Indians newly come, who thought their state good, and themselves happy, because they had sometimes lived with the white people under gospel-light, had learned to read, were civil, &c. although they appeared utter strangers to their own hearts, and altogether unacquainted with the power of religion, as well as with the d.octrine of grace. With those I discoursed particularly after public worship, and was surprised to see their self-righteous disposition, their strong attachment to the covenant of works for salvation, and the high value they put upon their supposed attainments. Yet after much discourse, one appeared in a measure convinced, that "by the deeds of the law no flesh living can be justified," and wept bitterly, inquiring "what he must do to be saved!" This was very comfortable to others, who had gained some experimental acquaintance with their own hearts; for before they were grieved with the conversation and conduct of these new corners, who boasted of their knowledge, and thought well of themselves, but evidently discovered to those that had any experience of divine truths, that they knew nothing of their own hearts. Lord's day, Aug. 25. Preached in the forenoon from Luke xv. 3-7. There being a multitude of white people present, I made an address to them, at the close of my discourse to the Indians: but could not so much as keep them orderly; for scores of them kept walking and gazing about, and behaved more indecently than any Indians I ever addressed; and a view of their abusive conduct so sunk my spirits, that I could scarce go on with my work. In the afternoon discoursed from Rev. iii. 20. at which time the Indians behaved seriously, though many others were vain. Afterwards baptized twenty-five persons of the Indians, fifteen adults, and ten children. Most of the adults I have comfortable reason to hope are renewed persons; and there was not one of them but what I entertained some hopes of in that respect, though the case of two or three of them appeared more doubtful. After the crowd of spectators was gone, I called the baptized persons together, and discoursed to them in particular, at the same time inviting others to attend. I minded them of the solemn obligations they were now under to live to God, warned them of the evil and dreadful consequences of careless living, especially after this public profession of Christianity; gave them directions for their future conduct, and encouraged them to watchfulness and devotion, by setting before them the comfort and happy conclusion of a religious life. This was a desirable and sweet season indeed! Their hearts were engaged and cheerful in duty, and they rejoiced that they had in a public and solemn manner dedicated themselves to God. Love seemed to reign among them! They took each other by the hand with tenderness and affection, as if their hearts were knit together, while I was discoursing to them: and all their deportment toward each other was such, that a serious spectator might justly be excited to cry out with admiration, "Behold how they love one another!" Sundry of the other Indians, at seeing and hearing these things, were much affected, and wept bitterly, longing to be partakers of the same joy and comfort that these discovered by their very countenances as well as conduct. Aug. 26. Preached to my people from John vi. 51-55. After I had discoursed some time, I addressed those in particular who entertained hopes that they were "passed from death to life." Opened to them the persevering nature of those consolations Christ gives his people, and which I trusted he had bestowed upon some in that assembly; showed them that such have already the "beginnings of eternal life," (ver. 54..) and that their heaven shall speedily be completed, &c. I no sooner began to discourse in this strain, but the dear Christians in the congregation began to be melted with affection to, and desire of, the enjoyment of Christ, and of a state of perfect purity. They wept affectionately, and yet joyfully, and their tears and sobs discovered brokenness of heart, and yet were attended with real comfort and sweetness; so that this was a tender, affectionate, humble, delightful melting, and appeared to be the genuine effect of a Spirit of adoption, and very far from that spirit of bondage that they not long since laboured under. The influence seemed to spread from these through the whole assembly, and there quickly appeared a wonderful concern among them. Many who had not yet found Christ as an all-sufficient Saviour, were surprisingly engaged in seeking after him. It was indeed a lovely and very desirable assembly. Their number was now about ninety-five persons, old and young, and almost all affected either with joy, in Christ Jesus, or with utmost concern to obtain an interest in him. Being fully convinced it was now my duty to take a journey far back to the Indians on Susquehannah river, (it being now a proper season of the year to find them generally at home,) after having spent some hours in public and private discourses with my people, I told them, that I must now leave them for the present, and go to their brethren far remote, and preach to them; that I wanted the Spirit of God should go with me, without whom nothing could be done to any good purpose among the Indians as they themselves had opportunity to see, and observe, by the barrenness of our meetings at some times, when there was much pains taken to affect and awaken sinners, and yet to little or no purpose and asked them, if they could not be willing to spend the remainder of the day in prayer for me, that God would go with me, and succeed my endeavours for the conversion of those poor souls. They cheerfully complied with the motion, and soon after I left them (the sun being then about an hour and a half high at night) they began, and continued praying all night,) till break of day, or very near, never mistrusting, they tell me, till they went out and viewed the stars, and saw the morning-star a considerable height, that it was later than common bed-time. Thus eager and unwearied were they in their devotions! A remarkable night it was, attended, as my interpreter tells me, with a powerful influence upon those who were yet under concern, as well as those that had received comfort. There were, I trust, this day two distressed souls brought to the enjoyment of solid comfort in him, in whom the weary find rest. It was likewise remarkable, that this day an old Indian, who has all his days been an obstinate idolater, was brought to give up his rattles (which they use for music in their idolatrous feasts and dances) to the other Indians, who quickly destroyed them; and this without any attempt of mine in the affair, I having said nothing to him about it; so that it seemed it was nothing but just the power of God's word, without any particular application to this sin, that produced this effect. Thus God has begun, thus he has hitherto surprisingly carried on a work of grace amongst these Indians. May the glory be ascribed to him, who is the sole Author of it! Forks Of Delaware, in Pennsylvania, Sept. 1745. Lord's day, Sept. 1. Preached to the Indians here from Luke xiv. 16 23. The word appeared to be attended with some power, and caused some tears in the assembly. Afterwards preached to a number of white people present, and observed many of them in tears, and some who had formerly been as careless and unconcerned about religion perhaps as the Indians. Towards night discoursed to the Indians again, and perceived a greater attention, and more visible concern among them than has been usual in these parts. Sept. 3. Preached to the Indians from . "He is despised and rejected of men," &c. The divine presence seemed to be in the midst of the assembly, and a considerable concern spread amongst them. Sundry persons seemed to be awakened, amongst whom were two stupid creatures that I could scarce ever before keep awake while I was discoursing to them. Could not but rejoice at this appearance of things, although at the same time I could not but fear, lest the concern they at present manifested, might prove like a morning cloud, as something of that nature had formerly done in these parts. Sept. 5. Discoursed to the Indians from the parable of the sower, afterwards conversed particularly with sundry persons, which occasioned them to weep, and even cry out in an affecting manner, and seized others with surprise and concern; and I doubt not but that a divine power accompanied what was then spoken. Sundry of these persons had been with me to Crossweeksung, and had there seen, and some of them, I trust, felt the power of God's word in an effectual and saving manner. I asked one of them, who had obtained comfort, and given hopeful evidences of being truly religious, Why he now cried? He replied, "When he thought how Christ was slain like a lamb, and spilt his blood for sinners, he could not help crying, when he was all alone:" and thereupon burst out into tears and cries again. I then asked his wife, who had likewise been abundantly comforted, wherefore she cried? She answered, "She was grieved that the Indians here would not come to Christ, as well as those at Crossweeksung." I asked her if she found a heart to pray for them, and whether Christ had seemed to be near to her of late in prayer, as in time past? (which is my usual method of expressing a sense of the divine presence.) She replied, "Yes, he had been near to her; and that at some times when she had been praying alone, her heart loved to pray so, that she could not bear to leave the place, but wanted to stay and pray longer." Sept. 7. Preached to the Indians from John vi. 35-39. There was not so much appearance of concern among them as at several other times of late; yet they appeared serious and attentive. Lord's day, Sept. 8. Discoursed to the Indians in the forenoon from John xii. 44-50. in the afternoon from Acts ii. 36-39. The word of God at this time seemed to fall with weight and influence upon them. There were but few present, but most that were, were in tears, and sundry cried out under distressing concern for their souls. There was one man considerably awakened, who never before discovered any concern for his soul. There appeared a remarkable work of the divine Spirit among them, almost generally, not unlike what has been of late at Crossweeksung. It seemed as if the divine influence had spread from thence to this place; although something of it appeared here in the awakening of my interpreter, his wife, and some few others. Sundry of the careless white people now present were awakened, (or at least startled,) seeing time power of God so prevalent among the Indians. I then made a particular address to them, which seemed to make some impression upon them, and excite some affection in them. There are sundry Indians in these parts who have always refused to hear me preach, and have been enraged against those that have attended my preaching. But of late they are more bitter than ever, scoffing at Christianity, and sometimes asking my hearers, "How often they have cried?" and "Whether they have not now cried enough to do the turn?" &c. So that they have already "trial of cruel mockings." Sept. 9. Left the Indians in the Forks of Delaware, and set out on a journey towards Susquehannah river, directing my course towards the Indian town more than a hundred and twenty miles west-ward from the Forks. Travelled about fifteen miles, and there lodged. Sept. 13. After having lodged out three nights, arrived at the Indian town I aimed at on Susquehannah, called Shaumoking, (one of the places, and the largest of them, that I visited in May last,) and was kindly received and entertained by the Indians: but had little satisfaction by reason of the heathenish dance and revel they then held in the house where I was obliged to lodge, which I could not suppress, though I often entreated them to desist, for the sake of one of their own friends who was then sick in the house, and whose disorder was much aggravated by the noise. Alas! how destitute of natural affection are these poor uncultivated pagans! although they seem somewhat kind in their own way. Of a truth, "the dark corners of the earth are full of the habitations of cruelty." This town (as I observed in my Journal of May last) lies partly on the east side of the river, partly on the west, and partly on a large island in it, and contains upwards of fifty houses, and they tell me, near three hundred persons, though I never saw much more than half that number in it; but of three different tribes of Indians, speaking three languages wholly unintelligible to each other. About one half of its inhabitants are Delawares, the others called Senakes, and Tutelas. The Indians of this place are counted the most drunken, mischievous, and ruffianly fellows of any in these parts: and Satan seems to have his seat in this town in an eminent manner. Sept. 14. Visited he Delaware king, (who was supposed to be at the point of death when I was here in May last, but was now recovered,) and discoursed with him and others respecting Christianity, and spent the afternoon with them, and had more encouragement than I expected. The king appeared kindly disposed, and willing to be instructed: this gave me some encouragement that God would open an effectual door for my preaching the gospel here, and set up his kingdom in this place. Which was a support and refreshment to me in the wilderness, and rendered my solitary circumstances comfortable and pleasant. Lord' day, Sept. 15. Visited the chief of the Delawares again; was kindly received by him, and discoursed to the Indians in the afternoon. Still entertained hopes that God would open their hearts to receive the gospel, though many of them in the place were so drunk from day to day, that I could get no opportunity to speak to them. Towards night discoursed with one that understood the languages of the Six Nations, (as they are usually called,) who discovered an inclination to hearken to Christianity; which gave me some hopes that the gospel might hereafter be sent to those nations far remote. Sept. 16. Spent the forenoon with the Indians, endeavouring to instruct them from house to house, and to engage them, as far as I could, to be friendly to Christianity. Towards night went to one part of the town where they were sober, and got together near fifty persons of them, and discoursed to them, having first obtained the king's cheerful consent. There was a surprising attention among them, and they manifested a considerable desire of being further instructed. There was also one or two that seemed to be touched with some concern for their souls, who appeared well pleased with some conversation in private, after I had concluded my public discourse to them. My spirits were much refreshed with this appearance of things, and I cold not but return with my interpreter (having no other companion in this journey) to my poor hard lodgings, rejoicing in hopes that God designed to set up his kingdom here, where Satan now reigns in the most eminent manner; and found uncommon freedom in addressing the throne of grace for the accomplishment of so great and glorious a work. Sept. 17. Spent the forenoon in visiting and discoursing to the Indians. About noon left Shaumoking, (most of the Indians going out this day on their hunting design,) and travelled down the river south-westward. Sept. 19. Visited an Indian town called Juncauta, situate on an island in Susquehannah. Was much discouraged with the temper and behaviour of the Indians here, although they appeared friendly when I was with them the last spring, and then gave me encouragement to come and see them again. But they now seemed resolved to retain their pagan notions, and persist in their idolatrous practices. Sept. 20. Visited the Indians again at Juncauta island, and found them almost universally very busy in making preparations for a great sacrifice and dance. Had no opportunity to get them together in order to discourse with them about Christianity, by reason of their being so much engaged about their sacrifice. My spirits were much sunk with a prospect so very discouraging, and especially seeing I had now no interpreter but a pagan, who was as much attached to idolatry as any of them; (my own interpreter having left me the day before, being obliged to attend upon some important business elsewhere, and knowing that he could neither speak nor understand the language of these Indians;) so that I was under the greatest disadvantages imaginable. However, I attempted to discourse privately with some of them, but without any appearance of success: notwithstanding, I still tarried with them. In the evening they met together, near a hundred of them, and danced round a large fire, having prepared ten fat deer for the sacrifice. The fat of whose inwards they burnt in the fire while they were dancing, and sometime raised the flame to a prodigious height, at the same time yelling and shouting in such a manner, that they might easily have been heard two miles or more. They continued their sacred dance all night, or near the matter, after which they ate the flesh of the sacrifice, and so retired each one to his lodging. I enjoyed little satisfaction this night, being entirely alone on the island, (as to any Christian company,) and in the midst of this idolatrous revel; and having walked to and fro till body and mind were pained and much oppressed, I at length crept into a little crib made for corn, and there slept on the poles. Lord's day, Sept. 21. Spent the day with the Indians on the island. As soon as they were well up in the morning, I attempted to instruct them, and laboured for that purpose to get them together, but quickly found they had something else to do; for near noon they gathered together all their powows, (or conjurers,) and set about half a dozen of them to playing their juggling tricks, and acting their frantic distracted postures, in order to find out why they were then so sickly upon the island, numbers of them being at that time disordered with a fever, and bloody flux. In this exercise they were engaged for several hours, making all the wild, ridiculous, and distracted motions imaginable; sometimes singing; sometimes howling; sometimes extending their hands to the utmost stretch, spreading all their fingers; and they seemed to push with them, as if they designed to fright something away, or at least keep it off at arm's-end; sometimes stroking their faces with their hands, then spurting water as fine as mist; sometimes sitting flat on the earth, then bowing down their faces to the ground; wringing their sides, as if in pain and anguish; twisting their faces, turning up their eyes, grunting, puffing, &c. Their monstrous actions tended to excite ideas of horror, and seemed to have something in them, as I thought, peculiarly suited to raise the devil, if he could be raised by any thing odd, ridiculous, and frightful. Some of them, I could observe, were much more fervent and devout in the business than others, and seemed to chant, peep, and mutter with a great degree of warmth and vigour, as if determined to awaken and engage the powers below. I sat at a small distance, not more than thirty feet from them, (though undiscovered,) with my Bible in my hand, resolving, if possible, to spoil their sport, and prevent their receiving any answers from the infernal world, and there viewed the whole scene. They continued their hideous charms and incantations for more than three hours, until they had all wearied themselves out, although they had in that space of time taken sundry intervals of rest; and at length broke up, I apprehended, without receiving any answer at all. After they had done powowing, I attempted to discourse with them about Christianity; but they soon scattered, and gave me no opportunity for any thing of that nature. A view of these things, while I was entirely alone in the wilderness, destitute of the society of any one that so much as "named the name of Christ," greatly sunk my spirits, gave me the most gloomy turn of mind imaginable, almost stripped me of all resolution and hope respecting further attempts for propagating the gospel, and converting the pagans, and rendered this the most burdensome and disagreeable sabbath that ever I saw. But nothing, I can truly say, sunk and distressed me like the loss of my hope respecting their conversion. This concern appeared so great, and seemed to be so much my own, that I seemed to have nothing to do on earth if this failed. A prospect of the greatest success in the saving conversion of souls under gospel-light, would have done little or nothing towards compensating for the loss of my hope in this respect; and my spirits now were so damped and depressed, that I had no heart nor power to make any further attempts among them for that purpose, and could not possibly recover my hope, resolution, and courage, by the utmost of my endeavours. The Indians of this island can many of them understand the English language considerably well, having formerly lived in some part of Maryland among or near the white people, but are very vicious, drunken, and profane, although not so savage as those who have less acquaintance with the English. Their customs in divers respects differ from those of other Indians upon this river. They do not bury their dead in a common form, but let their flesh consume above-ground in close cribs made for that purpose; and at the end of a year, or sometimes a longer space of time, they take the bones, when the flesh is all consumed, and wash and scrape them, and afterwards bury them with some ceremony. Their method of charming or conjuring over the sick, seems somewhat different from that of other Indians, though for substance the same: and the whole of it, among these and others, perhaps is an imitation of what seems, by Naaman's expression, 2 Kings v. 11. to have been the custom of the ancient heathens. For it seems chiefly to consist in their "striking their hands over the diseased," repeatedly stroking them, "and calling upon their gods," excepting the spurting of water like a mist, and some other frantic ceremonies, common to the other conjurations I have already mentioned. When I was in these parts in May last, I had an opportunity of learning many of the notions and customs of the Indians, as well as of observing many of their practices. I then travelled more than a hundred and thirty miles upon the river above the English settlements; and had in that journey a view of some persons of seven or eight distinct tribes, speaking so many different languages. But of all the sights I ever saw among them, or indeed any where else, none appeared so frightful, or so near akin to what is usually imagined of infernal powers none ever excited such images of terror in my mind as the appearance of one who was a devout and zealous reformer, or rather restorer of what he supposed was the ancient religion of the Indians. He made his appearance in his pontifical garb, which was a coat of bears' skins dressed with the hair on, and hanging down to his toes, a pair of bear-skin stockings, and a great wooden face, painted the one half black, and the other tawny, about the colour of an Indian's skin, with an extravagant mouth, cut very much awry; the face fastened to a bear-skin cap, which was drawn over his head. He advanced toward me with the instrument in his hand that he used for music in his idolatrous worship, which was a dry tortoise-shell, with sorr e corn in it, and the neck of it drawn on to a piece of wood, which made a very convenient handle. As he came forward, he beat his tune with the rattle, and danced with all his might, but did not suffer any part of his body, not so much as his fingers, to be seen: and no man would have guessed by his appearance and actions, that he could have been a human creature, if they had not had some intimation of it otherwise. When he came near me, I could not but shrink away from him, although it was then noonday, and I knew who it was, his appearance and gestures were so prodigiously frightful. He had a house consecrated to religious uses, with divers images cut out upon the several parts of it; I went in and found the ground beat almost as hard as a rock with their frequent dancing in it. I discoursed with him about Christianity, and some of my discourse he seemed to like, but some of it he disliked entirely. He told me that God had taught him his religion, and that he never would turn from it, but wanted to find some that would join heartily with him in it; for the Indians, he said, were grown very degenerate and corrupt. He had thoughts, he said, of leaving all his friends, and travelling abroad, in order to find some that would join with him; for he believed God had some good people somewhere that felt as he did. He had not always, he said, felt as he now did, but had formerly been like the rest of the Indians, until about four or five years before that time: then he said his heart was very much distressed, so that he could not live among the Indians, but got away into the woods, and lived alone for some months. At length, he says, God comforted his heart, and showed him what he should do; and since that time he had known God and tried to serve him; and loved all men, be they who they would, so as he never did before. He treated me with uncommon courtesy, and seemed to be hearty in it. And I was told by the Indians, that he opposed their drinking strong liquor with all his power; and if at any time he could not dissuade them from it, by all he could say, he would leave them and go crying into the woods. It was manifest he had a set of religious notions that he had looked into for himself, and not taken for granted upon bare tradition; and he relished or disrelished whatever was spoken of a religious nature according as it either agreed or disagreed with his standard. And while I was discoursing he would sometimes say, "Now that I like: so God has taught me," &c. And some of his sentiments seemed very just. Yet he utterly denied the being of a devil, and declared there was no such a creature known among the Indians of old times, whose religion he supposed he was attempting to revive. He likewise told me that departed souls all went southward, and that the difference between the good and bad was this, that the former were admitted into a beautiful town with spiritual walls, or walls agreeable to the nature of souls; and that the latter would for ever hover round those walls, and in vain attempt to get in. He seemed to be sincere, honest, and conscientious in his own way, and according to his own religious notions, which was more than I ever saw in any other pagan. I perceived he was looked upon and derided amongst most of the Indians as a precise zealot, that made a needless noise about religious matters; but I must say, there was something in his temper and disposition that looked more like true religion than any thing I ever observed amongst other heathens. But, alas! how deplorable is the state of the Indians upon this river! The brief representation I have here given of their notions and manners, is sufficient to show that they are "led captive by Satan at his will," in the most eminent manner: and, methinks, might likewise be sufficient to excite the compassion, and engage the prayers, of pious souls for these their fellow-men, who sit in "the regions of the shadow of death." Sept. 22. Made some further attempts to instruct and Christianize the Indians on this island, but all to no purpose. They live so near the white people, that they are always in the way of strong liquor, as well as the ill examples of nominal Christians; which renders it so unspeakably difficult to treat with them about Christianity. Forks Of Delaware, October, 1745. Oct. 1. Discoursed to the Indians here, and spent some time in private conferences with them about their souls' concerns, and afterwards invited them to accompany, or if not, to follow, me down to Crossweeksung, as soon as their conveniency would admit; which invitation sundry of them cheerfully accepted. Crossweeksung, in New Jersey, October, 1745. Preached to my people from John xiv. 1-6. The divine presence seemed to be in the assembly. Numbers were affected with divine truths, and it was a season of comfort to some in particular. O what a difference is there between these and the Indians I had lately treated with upon Susquehannah! To be with those seemed like being banished from God, and all his people; to be with these, like being admitted into his family, and to the enjoyment of his divine presence! How great is the change lately made upon numbers of these Indians, who not many months ago were as thoughtless and averse to Christianity as those upon Susquehannah! and how astonishing is that grace which has made this change! Lord's day, Oct. 6. Preached in the forenoon from John x. 7-11. There was a considerable melting among my people; the dear young Christians were refreshed, comforted, and strengthened, and one or two persons newly awakened. In the afternoon I discoursed on the story of the jailer, Acts xvi. and in the evening expounded Acts xx. 1-12. There was at this time a very agreeable melting spread through the whole assembly. I think I scarce ever saw a more desirable affection in any number of people in my life. There was scarce a dry eye to be seen among them, and yet nothing boisterous or unseemly, nothing that tended to disturb the public worship; but rather to encourage and excite a Christian ardour and spirit of devotion. Those who, I have reason to hope, were savingly renewed, were first affected and seemed to rejoice much, but with brokenness of spirit and godly fear. Their exercises were much the same with those mentioned in my Journal of August 26, evidently appearing to be the genuine effect of a Spirit of adoption. After public service was over I withdrew, (being much tired with the labours of the day,) and the Indians continued praying among themselves for near two hours together; which continued exercises appeared to be attended with a blessed quickening influence from on high. I could not but earnestly wish that numbers of God's people had been present at this season, to see and hear these things, which I am sure must refresh the heart of every true lover of Zion's interest. To see those who very lately were savage pagans and idolaters, "having no hope, and without God in the world," now filled with a sense of divine love and grace, and worshipping the "Father in spirit and in truth," as numbers here appeared to do, was not a little affecting; and especially to see them appear so tender and humble, as well as lively, fervent, and devout in the divine service. Oct. 24. Discoursed from John iv. 13, 14. There was a great attention, a desirable affection, and an unaffected melting in the assembly. It is surprising to see how eager they are of hearing the word of God. I have oftentimes thought they would cheerfully and diligently attend divine worship twenty-four hours together, had they an opportunity so to do. Oct. 25. Discoursed to my people respecting the resurrection, from Luke xx. 27-36. And when I came to mention the blessedness the godly shall enjoy at that season; their final freedom from death, sin, and sorrow; their equality to the angels in regard of their nearness to, and enjoyment of, Christ; (some imperfect degree of which they are favoured with in the present life, from whence springs their sweetest comfort;) and their being the children of God, openly acknowledged by him as such; I say, when I mentioned these things, numbers of them were much affected, and melted with a view of this blessed state. Oct. 26. Being called to assist in the administration of the Lord's supper, in a neighbouring congregation, I invited my people to go with me, who in general embraced the opportunity cheerfully, and attended the several discourses of that solemnity with diligence and affection, most of them now understanding something of the English language. Lord's day, Oct. 27. While I was preaching to a vast assembly of people abroad, who appeared generally easy and secure enough, there was one Indian woman, a stranger, who never heard me preach before, nor ever regarded any thing about religion being now persuaded by some of her friends to come to meeting, though much against her will was seized with pressing concern for her soul, and soon after expressed a great desire of going home, more than forty miles distant, to call her husband, that he also might be awakened to a concern for his soul. Some other of the Indians also appeared to be affected with divine truths this day. The pious people of the English, numbers of whom I had opportunity to converse with, seemed refreshed with seeing the Indians worship God in that devout and solemn manner with the assembly of his people: and with those mentioned Acts xi. 18. they could not but "glorify God, saying, Then hath God also to the Gentiles granted repentance unto life." Oct. 28. Preached again to a great assembly, at which time some of my people appeared affected; and when public worship was over, were inquisitive whether there would not be another sermon in the evening, or before the sacramental solemnity was concluded; being still desirous to hear God's word. Crossweeksung, Oct. 28. Discoursed from Matt. xxii. 1-13. I was enabled to open the Scripture, and adapt my discourse and expressions to the capacities of my people, I know not how, in a plain, easy, and familiar manner, beyond all that I could have done by the utmost study: and this, without any special difficulty; yea, with as much freedom as if I had been addressing a common audience, who had been instructed in the doctrine of Christianity all their days. The word of God at this time seemed to fall upon the assembly with a divine power and influence, especially toward the close of my discourse: there was both a sweet melting and bitter mourning in the audience. The dear Christians were refreshed and comforted, convictions revived in others, and sundry persons newly awakened who had never been with us before; and so much of the divine presence appeared in the assembly, that it seemed "this was no other than the house of God, and the gate of heaven." And all that had any savour and relish of divine things were even constrained by the sweetness of that season to say, "Lord, it is good for us to be here!" If ever there was amongst my people an appearance of the New Jerusalem "as a bride adorned for her husband," there was much of it at this time; and so agreeable was the entertainment where such tokens of the divine presence were, that I could scarce be willing in the evening to leave the place, and repair to my lodgings. I was refreshed with a view of the continuance of this blessed work of grace among them, and its influence upon strangers of the Indians that had of late, from time to time, providentially fallen into these parts. Nov. 1. Discoursed from Luke xxiv. briefly explaining the whole chapter, and insisting especially upon some particular passages. The discourse was attended with some affectionate concern upon some of the hearers, though not equal to what has often appeared among them. Lord's day, Nov. 3. Preached to my people from Luke xvi. 17. "And it is easier for heaven and earth," &c. more especially for the sake of several lately brought under deep concern for their souls. There was some apparent concern and affection in the assembly, though far less than has been usual of late. Afterwards I baptized fourteen persons of the Indians, six adults and eight children: one of these was near fourscore years of age, and I have reason to hope God has brought her savingly home to himself. Two of the others were men of fifty years old, who had been singular and remarkable, even among the Indians, for their wickedness; one of them had been a murderer, and both notorious drunkards, as well as excessively quarrelsome; but now I cannot but hope both are become subjects of God's special grace, especially the worst of them. [419] I deferred their baptism for many weeks after they had given evidences of having passed a great change, that I might have more opportunities to observe the fruits of the impressions they had been under, and apprehended the way was now clear. There was not one of the adults I baptized, but what had given me some comfortable grounds to hope, that God had wrought a work of special grace in their hearts; although I could not have the same degree of satisfaction respecting one or two of them, as the rest. Nov. 4. Discoursed from John xi. briefly explaining most of the chapter. Divine truths made deep impressions upon many in the assembly; numbers were affected with a view of the power of Christ, manifested in his raising the dead; and especially when this instance of his power was improved to show his power and ability to raise dead souls (such as many of them then felt themselves to be) to a spiritual life; as also to raise the dead at the last day, and dispense to them due rewards and punishments. There were sundry of the persons lately come here from remote places, that were now brought under deep and pressing concern for their souls, particularly one who not long since came half drunk, and railed on us, and attempted by all means to disturb us while engaged in the divine worship was now so concerned and distressed for her soul, that she seemed unable to get any ease without an interest in Christ. There were many tears and affectionate sobs and groans in the assembly in general, some weeping for themselves, others for their friends. And although persons are doubtless much easier affected now, than they were in the beginning of this religious concern, when tears and cries for their souls were things unheard of among them; yet I must say, their affection in general appeared genuine and unfeigned; and especially this appeared very conspicuous in those newly awakened. So that true and genuine convictions of sin seem still to be begun and promoted in many instances. Baptized a child this day, and perceived sundry of the baptized persons affected with the administration of this ordinance, as being thereby reminded of their own solemn engagements. I have now baptized in all forty-seven persons of the Indians, twenty-three adults, and twenty-four children; thirty-five of them belonging to these parts, and the rest to the Forks of Delaware: and, through rich grace, none of them as yet have been left to disgrace their profession of Christianity by any scandalous or unbecoming behaviour. GENERAL REMARKS ON PART FIRST. I might now justly make many remarks on a work of grace so very remarkable as this has been in divers respects; but shall confine myself to a few general hints only. 1st, It is remarkable that God began this work among the Indians at a time when I had the least hope, and, to my apprehension, the least rational prospect of, seeing a work of grace propagated amongst them. My bodily strength being then much wasted by a late tedious journey to Susquehannah, where I was necessarily exposed to hardships and fatigues among the Indians: my mind being also exceedingly depressed with a view of the unsuccessfulness of my labours. I had little reason so much as to hope that God had made me instrumental in the saving conversion of any of the Indians, except my interpreter and his wife. Whence I was ready to look upon myself as a burden to the Honourable Society, that employed and supported me in this business, and began to entertain serious thoughts of giving up my mission; and almost resolved I would do so at the conclusion of the present year, if I had then no better prospect of special success in my work than I had hitherto had. I cannot say I entertained these thoughts because I was weary of the labours and fatigues that necessarily attended my present business, or because I had light and freedom in my. own mind to turn any other way; but purely through dejection of spirit, pressing discouragement, and an apprehension of its being unjust to spend money consecrated to religious uses, only to civilize the Indians, and bring them to an external profession of Christianity. This was all that I could then see any prospect of having effected, while God seemed, as I thought, evidently to frown upon the design of their saving conversion, by withholding the convincing and renewing influences of his blessed Spirit from attending the means I had hitherto used with them for that end. And in this frame of mind I first visited these Indians at Crossweeksung, apprehending it was my indispensable duty, seeing I had heard there was a number in these parts, to make some attempts for their conversion to God, though I cannot say I had any hope of success, my spirits being now so extremely sunk. And I do not know that my hopes respecting the conversion of the Indians were ever reduced to so low an ebb, since I had any special concern for them, as at this time. And yet this was the very season that God saw fittest to begin this glorious work in! And thus he "ordained strength out of weakness," by making bare his almighty arm at a time when all hopes and human probabilities most evidently appeared to fail. Whence I learn, that it is good to follow the path of duty, though in the midst of darkness and discouragement. 2dly, It is remarkable how God providentially, and in a manner almost unaccountable, called these Indians together to be instructed in the great things that concerned their souls; and how he seized their minds with the most solemn and weighty concern for their eternal salvation, as fast as they came to the place where his word was preached. When I first came into these parts in June, I found not one man at the place I visited, but only four women and a few children, but before I had been here many days they gathered from all quarters, some from more than twenty miles distant; and when I made them a second visit in the beginning of August, some came more than forty miles to hear me. And many came without any intelligence of what was going on here, and consequently without any design of theirs, so much as to gratify their curiosity; so that it seemed as if God had summoned them together from all quarters for nothing else but to deliver his message to them; and that he did this, with regard to some of them, without making use of any human means; although there were pains taken by some of them to give notice to others at remote places. Nor is it less surprising that they were one after another affected with a solemn concern for their souls, almost as soon as they came upon the spot where divine truths were taught them. I could not but think often, that their coming to the place of our public worship, was like Saul and his messengers coming among the prophets; they no sooner came but they prophesied; and these were almost as soon affected with a sense of their sin and misery, and with an earnest concern for deliverance, as they made their appearance in our assembly. After this work of grace began with power among them, it was common for strangers of the Indians, before they had been with us one day, to be much awakened, deeply convinced of their sin and misery, and to inquire with great solicitude, "What they should do to be saved?" 3dIy, It is likewise remarkable how God preserved these poor ignorant Indians from being prejudiced against me, and the truths I taught them, by those means that were used with them for that purpose by ungodly people. There were many attempts made by some ill-minded persons of the white people to prejudice them against, or fright them from, Christianity. They sometimes told them, the Indians were well enough already: that there was no need of all this noise about Christianity: that if they were Christians, they would be in no better, no safer, or happier state, than they were already in, &c. Sometimes they told them that I was a knave, a deceiver, and the like: that I daily taught them lies, and had no other design but to impose upon them, &c. And when none of these, and such like suggestions, would avail to their purpose, they then tried another expedient, and told the Indians, "My design was to gather together as large a body of them as I possibly could, and then sell them to England for slaves." Than which nothing could be more likely to terrify the Indians, they being naturally of a jealous disposition, and the most averse to a state of servitude perhaps of any people living. But all these wicked insinuations, through divine goodness overruling, constantly turned against the authors of them, and only served to engage the affections of the Indians more firmly to me: for they being awakened to a solemn concern for their souls, could not but observe, that the persons who endeavoured to imbitter their minds against me, were altogether unconcerned about their own souls, and not only so, but vicious and profane; and thence could not but argue, that if they had no concern for their own, it was not likely they should have for the souls of others. It seems yet the more wonderful that the Indians were preserved from once hearkening to these suggestions, inasmuch as I was an utter stranger among them, and could give them no assurance of my sincere affection to and concern for them, by any thing that was past, while the persons that insinuated these things were their old acquaintance, who had frequent opportunities of gratifying their thirsty appetites with strong drink, and consequently, doubtless, had the greatest interest in their affections. But from this instance of their preservation from fatal prejudices, I have had occasion with admiration to say, "If God will work, who can hinder?" 4thly, Nor is it less wonderful how God was pleased to provide a remedy for my want of skill and freedom in the Indian language, by remarkably fitting my interpreter for, and assisting him in, the performance of his work. It might reasonably be supposed I must needs labour under a vast disadvantage in addressing the Indians by an interpreter; and that divine truths would unavoidably lose much of the energy and pathos with which they might at first be delivered, by reason of their coming to the audience from a second hand. But although this has often, to my sorrow and discouragement, been the case in times past, when my interpreter had little or no sense of divine things, yet now it was quite otherwise. I cannot think my addresses to the Indians ordinarily since the beginning of this season of grace, have lost any thing of their power of pungency with which they were made, unless it were sometimes for want of pertinent and pathetic terms and expressions in the Indian language; which difficulty could not have been much redressed by my personal acquaintance with their language. My interpreter had before gained some good degree of doctrinal knowledge, whereby he was rendered capable of understanding and communicating, without mistakes, the intent and meaning of my discourses, and that without being confined strictly, and obliged to interpret verbatim. He had likewise, to appearance, an experimental acquaintance with divine things; and it pleased God at this season to inspire his mind with longing desires for the conversion of the Indians, and to give him admirable zeal and fervency in addressing them in order thereto. And it is remarkable, that when I was favoured with any special assistance in any work, and enabled to speak with more than common freedom, fervency, and power, under a lively and affecting sense of divine things, he was usually affected in the same manner almost instantly, and seemed at once quickened and enabled to speak in the same pathetic language, and under the same influence that I did. And a surprising energy often accompanied the word at such seasons; so that the face of the whole assembly would be apparently changed almost in an instant, and tears and sobs became common among them. He also appeared to have such a clear doctrinal view of God's usual methods of dealing with souls under a preparatory work of conviction and humiliation as he never had before; so that I could, with his help, discourse freely with the distressed persons about their internal exercises, their fears, discouragements, temptations, &c. He likewise took pains day and night to repeat and inculcate upon the minds of the Indians the truths I taught them daily; and this he appeared to do, not from spiritual pride, and an affectation of setting himself up as a public teacher, but from a spirit of faithfulness, and an honest concern for their souls. His conversation among the Indians has likewise, so far as I know, been savoury, as becomes a Christian and a person employed in his work; and I may justly say, he has been a great comfort to me, and a great instrument of promoting this good work among the Indians: so that whatever be the state of his own soul, it is apparent God has remarkably fitted him for this work. And thus God has manifested that, without bestowing on me the gift of tongues, he could find a way wherein I might be as effectually enabled to convey the truths of his glorious gospel to the minds of these poor benighted pagans. 5thly, It is further remarkable, that God has carried on his work here by such means, and in such a manner, as tended to obviate, and leave no room for, those prejudices and objections that have often been raised against such a work. When persons have been awakened to a solemn concern for their souls, by hearing the more awful truths of God's word, and the terrors of the divine law, insisted upon, it has usually in such cases been objected by some, that such persons were only frighted with a fearful noise of hell and damnation; and that there was no evidence that their concern was the effect of a divine influence. But God has left no room for this objection in the present case, this work of grace having been begun and carried on by almost one continued strain of gospel invitation to perishing sinners. This may reasonably be guessed, from a view of the passages of Scripture I chiefly insisted upon in my discourses from time to time; which I have for that purpose inserted in my Journal. Nor have I ever seen so general an awakening in any assembly in my life as appeared here, while I was opening and insisting upon the parable of the great supper, Luke xiv. In which discourse I was enabled to set before my hearers the unsearchable riches of gospel-grace. Not that I would be understood here, that I never instructed the Indians respecting their fallen state, and the sinfulness and misery of it: for this was what I at first chiefly insisted upon with them, and endeavouring to repeat and inculcate in almost every discourse, knowing that without this foundation I should but build upon the sand; and that it would be in vain to invite them to Christ, unless I could convince them of their need of him, Mark ii. 17. But still, this great awakening, this surprising concern, was never excited by any harangues of terror, but always appeared most remarkable when I insisted upon the compassions of a dying Saviour, the plentiful provisions of the gospel, and the free offers of divine grace to needy, distressed sinners. Nor would I be understood to insinuate, that such a religious concern might justly be suspected as not being genuine, and from a divine influence because produced by the preaching of terror: for this is perhaps God's more usual way of awakening sinners, and appears entirely agreeable to Scripture, and sound reason. But what I meant here to observe is, that God saw fit to employ and bless milder means for the effectual awakening of these Indians, and thereby obviated the forementioned objection, which the world might otherwise have had a more plausible colour of making. And as there has been no room for any plausible objection against this work, in regard of the means; so neither in regard of the manner in which it has been carried on. It is true, persons' concern for their souls has been exceeding great, the convictions of their sin and misery have risen to a high degree, and produced many tears, cries, and groans: but then they have not been attended with those disorders, either bodily or mental, that have sometimes prevailed among persons under religious impressions. There has here been no appearance of those convulsions, bodily agonies, frightful screamings, swoonings, and the like, that have been so much complained of in some places; although there have been some who, with the jailer, have been made to tremble under a sense of their sin and misery, numbers who have been made to cry out from a distressing view of their perishing state, and some that have been, for a time, in a great measure, deprived of their bodily strength, yet without any such convulsive appearances. Nor has there been any appearance of mental disorders here, such as visions, trances, imaginations of being under prophetic inspiration, and the like; or scarce any unbecoming disposition to appear remarkably affected either with concern or joy; though I must confess, I observed one or two persons, whose concern, I thought, was in a considerable measure affected; and one whose joy appeared to be of the same kind. But these workings of spiritual pride I endeavoured to crush in their first appearances, and have not since observed any affection, either of joy or sorrow, but what appeared genuine and unaffected. But, 6thly, and lastly, The effects of this work have likewise been very remarkable. I doubt not but that many of these people have gained more doctrinal knowledge of divine truths, since I first visited them in June last, than could have been instilled into their minds by the most diligent use of proper and instructive means for whole years together, without such a divine influence. Their pagan notions and idolatrous practices seem to be entirely abandoned in these parts. They are regulated, and appear regularly disposed, in the affairs of marriage; an instance whereof I have given in my Journal of August 14. They seem generally divorced from drunkenness, their darling vice, the "sin that easily besets them;" so that I do not know of more than two or three who have been my steady hearers, that have drank to excess since I first visited them, although before it was common for some or other of them to be drunk almost every day: and some of them seem now to fear this sin in particular more than death itself. A principle of honesty and justice appears in many of them, and they seem concerned to discharge their old debts, which they have neglected, and perhaps scarce thought of, for years past. Their manner of living is much more decent and comfortable than formerly, having now the benefit of that money which they used to consume upon strong drink. Love seems to reign among them, especially those who have given evidences of having passed a saving change: and I never saw any appearance of bitterness or censoriousness in these, nor any disposition to "esteem themselves better than others," who had not received the like mercy. As their sorrows under convictions have been great and pressing, so many of them have since appeared to "rejoice with joy unspeakable, and full of glory;" and yet I never saw any thing ecstatic or flighty in their joy. Their consolations do not incline them to lightness; but, on the contrary, are attended with solemnity, and oftentimes with tears, and an apparent brokenness of heart, as may be seen in several passages of my Journal: and in this respect some of them have been surprised at themselves, and have with concern observed to me, that "when their hearts have been glad," (which is a phrase they commonly make use of to express spiritual joy,) " they could not help crying for all." And now, upon the whole, I think I may justly say, here are all the symptoms and evidences of a remarkable work of grace among these Indians, that can reasonably be desired or looked for. May the great Author of this work maintain and promote the same here, and propagate it every where, till "the whole earth be filled with his glory!" Amen. I have now rode more than three thousand miles, that I have kept an exact account of, since the beginning of March last; and almost the whole of it has been in my own proper business as a missionary, upon the design (either immediately or more remotely) of propagating Christian knowledge among the Indians. I have taken pains to look out for a colleague, or companion, to travel with me: and have likewise used endeavours to procure something for his support, among religious persons in New England, which cost me a journey of several hundred miles in length; but have not as yet found any person qualified and disposed for this good work, although I had some encouragement from ministers and others, that it was hopeful a maintenance might be procured for one, when the man should be found. I have likewise of late represented to the gentlemen concerned with this mission, the necessity of having an English school speedily set up among these Indians, who are now willing to be at the pains of gathering together in a body for this purpose. And in order thereto, have humbly proposed to them the collecting of money for the maintenance of a schoolmaster, and defraying of other necessary charges in the promotion of this good work; which they are now attempting in the several congregations of Christians to which they respectively belong. The several companies of Indians I have preached to in the summer past, live at great distances from each other. It is more than seventy miles from Crossweeksung in New Jersey, to the Forks of Delaware in Pennsylvania. And from thence to sundry of the Indian settlements I visited on Susquehannah, is more than a hundred and twenty miles. And so much of my time is necessarily consumed in journeying, that I can have but little for any of my necessary studies, and consequently for the study of the Indian languages in particular; and especially seeing I am obliged to discourse so frequently to the Indians at each of these places while I am with them, in order to redeem time to visit the rest. I am, at times, almost discouraged from attempting to gain any acquaintance with the Indian languages, they are so very numerous, (some account of which I gave in my Journal of May last,) and especially seeing my other labours and fatigues engross almost the whole of my time, and bear exceeding hard upon my constitution, so that my health is much impaired. However, I have taken considerable pains to learn the Delaware language, and propose still to do so, as far as my other business and bodily health will admit. I have already made some proficiency in it, though I have laboured under many and great disadvantages in my attempts of that nature. And it is but just to observe here, that all the pains I took to acquaint myself with the language of the Indians I spent my first year with, were of little or no service to me here among the Delawares; so that my work, when I came among these Indians, was all to begin anew. As these poor ignorant pagans stood in need of having "line upon line, and precept upon precept," in order to their being instructed and grounded in the principles of Christianity; so I preached "publicly, and taught from house to house," almost every day for whole weeks together, when I was with them. And my public discourses did not then make up the one half of my work, while there was so many constantly coming to me with that important inquiry, "What must we do to be saved?" and opening to me the various exercises of their minds. And yet I can say, (to the praise of rich grace,) that the apparent success with which my labours were crowned, unspeakably more than compensated for the labour itself, and was likewise a great means of supporting and carrying me through the business and fatigues, which, it seems, my nature would have sunk under, without such an encouraging prospect. But although this success has afforded matter of support, comfort, and thankfulness; yet in this season I have found great need of assistance in my work, and have been much oppressed for want of one to bear a part of my labours and hardships. "May the Lord of the harvest send forth other labourers into this part of his harvest, that those who sit in darkness may see great light, and that the whole earth may be filled with the knowledge of himself! Amen." DAVID BRAINERD. Nov. 20, 1745. __________________________________________________________________ [419] The men particularly mentioned in my Journal of August 10th, as being then awakened. __________________________________________________________________ PART II. FROM A. D. 1745, NOV. 24th, TO JUNE 19th 1746, AT CROSSWEEKSUNG AND FORKS OF DELAWARE Crossweeksung, in New Jersey, November, 1745. Lord's day, Nov. 24. Preached both parts of the day from the story of Zaccheus, Luke xix. 1-9. In the latter exercise, when I opened and insisted upon the salvation that comes to the sinner, upon his becoming a son of Abraham, or a true believer, the word seemed to be attended with divine power to the hearts of the hearers. Numbers were much affected with divine truths; former convictions were revived; one or two persons newly awakened; and a most affectionate engagement in divine service appeared among them universally. The impressions they were under appeared to be the genuine effect of God's word brought home to their hearts, by the power and influence of the divine Spirit. Nov. 26. After having spent some time in private conferences with my people, I discoursed publicly among them from John v. 1-9. I was favoured with some special freedom and fervency in my discourse, and a powerful energy accompanied divine truths. Many wept and sobbed affectionately, and scarce any appeared unconcerned in the whole assembly. The influence that seized the audience appeared gentle, and yet pungent and efficacious. It produced no boisterous commotion of the passions, but seemed deeply to affect the heart; and excite in the persons under convictions of their lost state, heavy groans and tears: and in others who had obtained comfort, a sweet and humble melting. It seemed like the gentle but steady showers that effectually water the earth, without violently beating upon the surface. The persons lately awakened were, some of them, deeply distressed for their souls, and appeared earnestly solicitous to obtain an interest in Christ: and some of them, after public worship was over, in anguish of spirit, said, "They knew not what to do, nor how to get their wicked hearts changed," &c. Nov. 28. Discoursed to the Indians publicly, after having used some private endeavours to instruct and excite some in the duties of Christianity. Opened and made remarks upon the sacred story of our Lord's transfiguration, Luke ix. 28-36. Had a principal view, in my insisting upon this passage of Scripture, to the edification and consolation of God's people. And observed some, that I have reason to think are truly such, exceedingly affected with an account of the glory of Christ in his transfiguration; and filled with longing desires of being with him, that they might with open face behold his glory. After public service was over, I asked one of them, who wept and sobbed most affectionately, "What she now wanted?" She replied, "Oh, to be with Christ! she did not know how to stay," &c. This was a blessed refreshing season to the religious people in general. The Lord Jesus Christ seemed to manifest his divine glory to them, as when transfigured before his disciples. And they, with the disciples, were ready universally to say, "Lord, it is good for us to be here." The influence of God's word was not confined to those who had given evidences of being truly gracious, though at this time I calculated my discourse for, and directed it chiefly to, such. But it appeared to be a season of divine power in the whole assembly; so that most were, in some measure, affected. And one aged man in particular, lately awakened, was now brought under a deep and pressing concern for his soul, and was earnestly inquisitive "how he might find Jesus Christ." God seems still to vouch-safe his divine presence and the influence of his blessed Spirit to accompany his word, at least in some measure, in all our meetings for divine worship. Nov. 30. Preached near night, after having spent some hours in private conference with some of my people about their souls' concerns. Explained and insisted upon the story of the rich man and Lazarus, Luke xvi. 19-26. The word made powerful impressions upon many in the assembly, especially while I discoursed of the blessedness of "Lazarus in Abraham's bosom." This, I could perceive, affected them much more than what I spoke of the rich man's misery and torments. And thus it has been usually with them. They have almost always appeared much more affected with the comfortable than the dreadful truths of God's word. And that which has distressed many of them under convictions is, that they found they wanted, and could not obtain, the happiness of the godly; at least they have often appeared to be more affected with this, than with the terrors of hell. But whatever be the means of their awakening, it is plain, numbers are made deeply sensible of their sin and misery, the wickedness and stubbornness of their own hearts, their utter inability to help themselves, or to come to Christ for help, without divine assistance; and so are brought to see their perishing need of Christ to do all for them, and to lie at the foot of sovereign mercy. Lord's day, Dec. 1. Discoursed to my people in the forenoon from Luke xvi. 27-31. There appeared an unfeigned affection in divers persons, and some seemed deeply impressed with divine truths. In the afternoon preached to a number of white people; at which time the Indians attended with diligence, and many of them were able to understand a considerable part of the discourse. At night discoursed to my people again, and gave them some particular cautions and directions relating to their conduct in divers respects. And pressed them to watchfulness in all their deportment, seeing they were encompassed with those that "waited for their halting," and who stood ready to draw them into temptations of every kind, and then to expose religion for their missteps. Lord's day, Dec. 8. Discoursed on the story of the blind man, John ix. There appeared no remarkable effect of the word upon the assembly at this time. The persons who have lately been much concerned for their souls, seemed now not so affected nor solicitous to obtain an interest in Christ as has been usual: although they attended divine service with seriousness and diligence. Such have been the doings of the Lord here, in awakening sinners, and affecting the hearts of those who are brought to solid comfort, with a fresh sense of divine things from time to time, that it is now strange to see the assembly sit with dry eyes, and without sobs and groans. Dec. 12. Preached from the parable of the ten virgins, Matt. xxv. The divine power seemed in some measure to attend this discourse, in which I was favoured with uncommon freedom and plainness of address, and enabled to open divine truths, and explain them to the capacities of my people, in a manner beyond myself. There appeared in many persons an affectionate concern for their souls; although the concern in general seemed not so deep and pressing as it had formerly done. Yet it was refreshing to see many melted into tears and unaffected sobs; some with a sense of divine love, and some for want of it. Lord's day, Dec. 15. Preached to the Indians from Luke xiii. 24-28. Divine truths fell with weight and power upon the audience, and seemed to reach the hearts of many. Near night discoursed to them again from Matt. xxv. 31-46. At which season also the word appeared to be accompanied with a divine influence, and made powerful impressions upon the assembly in general, as well as upon divers persons in a very special and particular manner. This was an amazing season of grace! "The word of the Lord," this day, "was quick and powerful, sharper than a two-edged sword," and pierced to the hearts of many. The assembly was greatly affected, and deeply wrought upon; yet without so much apparent commotion of the passions, as was usual in the beginning of this work of grace. The impressions made by the word of God upon the audience appeared solid, rational, and deep, worthy of the solemn truths by means of which they were produced, and far from being the effects of any sudden fright, or groundless perturbation of mind. O how did the hearts of the hearers seem to bow under the weight of divine truths! And how evident did it now appear that they received and felt them, "not as the word of man, but as the word of God!" None can frame a just idea of the appearance of our assembly at this time, but those who have seen a congregation solemnly awed, and deeply impressed, by the special power and influence of divine truths delivered to them in the name of God. Dec. 16. Discoursed to my people in the evening from Luke xi. 1-13. After having insisted some time upon the 9th verse, wherein there is a command and encouragement to ask for the divine favours, I called upon them to ask for a new heart with utmost importunity, as the man mentioned in the parable I was discoursing upon, pleaded for loaves of bread at midnight. There was much affection and concern in the assembly; and especially one woman appeared in great distress for her soul. She was brought to such an agony in seeking after Christ, that the sweat ran off her face for a considerable time together, although the evening was very cold; and her bitter cries were the most affecting indication of the inward anguish of her heart. Dec. 21. My people having now attained to a considerable degree of knowledge in the principles of Christianity, I thought it proper to set up a catechetical lecture among them; and this evening attempted something in that form; proposing questions to them agreeable to the Reverend Assembly's Shorter Catechism, receiving their answers, and then explaining and insisting as appeared necessary and proper upon each question. After which I endeavoured to make some practical improvement of the whole. This was the method I entered upon. They were able readily and rationally to answer many important questions I proposed to them: so that, upon trial, I found their doctrinal knowledge to exceed my own expectations. In the improvement of my discourse, when I came to infer and open the blessedness of those who have so great and glorious a God, as had before been spoken of, "for their everlasting friend and portion," sundry were much affected; and especially when I exhorted, and endeavoured to persuade them "to be reconciled to God," through his dear Son, and thus to secure an interest in his everlasting favour. So that they appeared to be not only enlightened and instructed, but affected and engaged in their souls' concern by this method of discoursing. Lord's day, Dec. 22. Discoursed upon the story of the young man in the gospel, Matt. ix. 16-22. God made it a seasonable word, I am persuaded, to some souls. There were sundry persons of the Indians newly come here, who had frequently lived among Quakers; and being more civilized and conformed to English manners than the generality of the Indians, they had imbibed some of the Quakers' errors, especially this fundamental one, viz. That if men will but live soberly and honestly, according to the dictates of their own consciences, (or the light within,) there is then no danger or doubt of their salvation, &c. These persons I found much worse to deal with than those who are wholly under pagan darkness, who make no pretences to knowledge in Christianity at all, nor have any self-righteous foundation to stand upon. However, they all, except one, appeared now convinced, that this sober, honest life, of itself, was not sufficient to salvation; since Christ himself had declared it so in the case of the young man. And seemed in some measure concerned to obtain that change of heart, the necessity of which I had been labouring to show them. This was likewise a season of comfort to some souls, and in particular to one, (the same mentioned in my Journal of the 16th instant,) who never before obtained any settled comfort, though I have abundant reason to think she had passed a saving change some days before. She now appeared in a heavenly frame of mind, composed and delighted with the divine will. When I came to discourse particularly with her, and to inquire of her, how she got relief and deliverance from the spiritual distresses she had lately been under, she answered in broken English, [420] "Me try, me try, save myself, last my strength be all gone, (meaning her ability to save herself,) could not me stir bit further. Den last, me forced let Jesus Christ alone, send me hell if he please." I said, But you was not willing to go to hell, was you? She replied, [421] "Could not me help it. My heart he would wicked for all. Could not me make him good;" (meaning she saw it was right she should go to hell because her heart was wicked, and would be so after all she could do to mend it). I asked her, how she got out of this case? She answered still in the same broken language, [422] "By by my heart be grad desperately." I asked her why her heart was glad? She replied, "Grad my heart Jesus Christ do what he please with me. Den me tink, grad my heart Jesus Christ send me hell. Did not me care where he put me, me lobe him for all," &c. And she could not readily be convinced but that she was willing to go to hell, if Christ was pleased to send her there. Though the truth evidently was, her will was so swallowed up in the divine will, that she could not frame any hell in her imagination that would be dreadful or undesirable, provided it was but the will of God to send her to it. Toward night discoursed to them again in the catechetical method I entered upon the evening before. And when I came to improve the truths I had explained to them, and to answer that question, "But how shall I know whether God has chosen me to everlasting life," by pressing them to come and give up their hearts to Christ, and thereby "to make their election sure;" they then appeared much affected: and the persons under concern were afresh engaged in seeking after an interest in him; while some others who had obtained comfort before, were refreshed to find that love to God in themselves, which was an evidence of his electing love to them. Dec. 25. The Indians having been used upon Christmas days to drink and revel among some of the white people in these parts, I thought it proper this day to call them together, and discourse to them upon divine things: which I accordingly did from the parable of the barren fig-tree, Luke xiii. 6-9. A divine influence, I am persuaded, accompanied the word at this season. The power of God appeared in the assembly, not by producing any remarkable cries, but by shocking and rousing at heart, as it seemed, several stupid creatures that were scarce ever moved with any concern before. The power attending divine truths seemed to have the influence of the earthquake rather than the whirlwind upon them. Their passions were not so much alarmed as has been common here in times past, but their judgments appeared to be powerfully convinced by the masterly and conquering influence of divine truths. The impressions made upon the assembly in general, seemed not superficial, but deep and heart-affecting. O how ready did they now appear universally to embrace and comply with every thing they heard and were convinced was duty! God was in the midst of us of a truth, bowing and melting stubborn hearts! How many tears and sobs were then to be seen and heard among us! What liveliness and strict attention, what eagerness and intenseness of mind, appeared in the whole assembly in the time of divine service! They seemed to watch and wait for the dropping of God's word, as the thirsty earth for the "former and latter rain." Afterwards I discoursed to them on the duty of husbands and wives, from Eph. v. 22, 23. and have reason to think this was a word in season. Spent some time further in the evening, in inculcating the truths I had insisted upon in my former discourse respecting the barren fig-tree, and observed a powerful influence still accompany what was spoken. Dec. 26. This evening I was visited by a person under great spiritual exercise; the most remarkable instance of this kind I ever saw. She was a woman of (I believe) more than fourscore years old, and appeared to be much broken and very childish through age; so that it seemed impossible for man to instil into her mind any notions of divine things, not so much as to give her any doctrinal instruction, because she seemed incapable of being taught. She was led by the hand into my house, and appeared in extreme anguish. I asked her what ailed her? She answered, "That her heart was distressed, and she feared she should never find Christ." I asked her when she began to be concerned? with divers other questions relating to her distress. To all which she answered, for substance, to this effect, viz. That she had heard me preach many times, but never knew any thing about it, never "felt it in her heart" till the last sabbath; and then it came (she said) "all one as if a needle had been thrust into her heart;" since which time, she had no rest day nor night. She added, that on the evening before Christmas, a number of Indians being together at the house where she was, and discoursing about Christ, their talk pricked her heart, so that she could not sit up, but fell down on her bed; at which time she went away, (as she expressed it,) and felt as if she dreamed, and yet is confident she did not dream. When she was thus gone, she saw two paths; one appeared very broad and crooked: and that turned to the left hand. The other appeared straight, and very narrow; and that went up the hill to the right hand. She travelled, she said, for some time up the narrow right-hand path, till at length something seemed to obstruct her journey. She sometimes called it darkness, and then described it otherwise, and seemed to compare it to a block or bar. She then remembered what she had heard me say about "striving to enter in at the strait gate," (although she took little notice of it, at the time when she heard me discourse upon that subject,) and thought she would climb over this bar. But just as she was thinking of this, she came back again, as she termed it, meaning that she came to herself; whereupon her soul was extremely distressed, apprehending she had now turned back and forsaken Christ, and that there was therefore no hope of mercy for her. As I was sensible that trances and imaginary views of things, are of dangerous tendency in religion, when sought after, and depended upon; so I could not but be much concerned about this exercise, especially at first; apprehending this might be a design of Satan to bring a blemish upon the work of God here, by introducing visionary scenes, imaginary terrors, and all manner of mental disorders and delusions, in the room of genuine convictions of sin, and the enlightening influences of the blessed Spirit; mind I was almost resolved to declare that I looked upon this to be one of Satan's devices, and to caution my people against it, and the like exercises, as such. However, I determined first to inquire into her knowledge, to see whether she had any just views of things, that might be the occasion of her present distressing concern, or whether it was a mere fright arising only from imaginary terrors. I asked her divers questions respecting man's primitive, and more especially his present, state, and respecting her own heart; which she answered rationally, and to my surprise. And I thought it was next to impossible, if not altogether so, that a pagan who was become a child through age, should in that state gain so much knowledge by any mere human instruction, without being remarkably enlightened by a divine influence. I then proposed to her the provision made in the gospel for the salvation of sinners, and the ability and willingness of Christ "to save to the uttermost all (old as well as young) that come to him." To which she seemed to give a hearty assent. But instantly replied, "Ay, but I cannot come; my wicked heart will not come to Christ; I do not know how to come," &c. And this she spoke in anguish of spirit, striking on her breast with tears in her eyes, and with such earnest ness in her looks as was indeed piteous and affecting. She seems to be really convinced of her sin and misery, and her need of a change of heart: and her concern is abiding and constant. So that nothing appears but that this exercise may have a saving issue. And indeed it seems hopeful, seeing she is so solicitous to obtain an interest in Christ, that her heart (as she expresses it) prays day and night. How far God may make use of the imagination in awakening some persons under these and such like circumstances, I cannot pretend to determine. Or whether this exercise be from a divine influence, I shall leave others to judge. But this I must say, that its effects hitherto bespeak it to be such: nor can it, as I see, be accounted for in a rational way, but from the influence of some spirit, either good or evil. For the woman, I am sure, never heard divine things treated of in the manner she now viewed them in; and it would seem strange she should get such a rational notion of them from the mere working of her own fancy, without some superior, or at least foreign, aid. And yet I must say, I have looked upon it as one of the glories of this work of grace among the Indians, and a special evidence of its being from a divine influence, that there has, till now, been no appearance of such things, no visionary notions, trances, and imaginations, intermixed with those rational convictions of sin, and solid consolations, that numbers have been made the subjects of. And might I have had my desire, there had been no appearance of any thing of this nature at all. Dec. 28. Discoursed to my people in the catechetical method I lately entered upon. And in the improvement of my discourse, wherein I was comparing man's present with his primitive state; and showing what he had fallen from, and the miseries he is now involved in and exposed to in his natural estate; and pressing sinners to take a view of their deplorable circumstances without Christ; as also to strive that they might obtain an interest in him; the Lord, I trust, granted a remarkable influence of his blessed Spirit to accompany what was spoken, and a great concern appeared in the assembly: many were melted into tears and sobs, and the impressions made upon them seemed deep and heart-affecting. And in particular, there were two or three persons who appeared to be brought to the last exercises of a preparatory work, and reduced almost to extremity; being in a great measure convinced of the impossibility of their helping themselves, or of mending their own hearts; and seemed to be upon the point of giving up all hope in themselves, and of venturing upon Christ as naked, helpless, and undone. And yet were in distress and anguish because they saw no safety in so doing, unless they could do something towards saving themselves. One of these persons was the very aged woman above mentioned, who now appeared "weary and heavy laden" with a sense of her sin and misery, and her perishing need of an interest in Christ. Lord's day, Dec. 29. Preached from John iii. 1-5. A number of white people were present, as is usual upon the sabbath. The discourse was accompanied with power, and seemed to have a silent, but deep and piercing influence upon the audience. Many wept and sobbed affectionately. And there were some tears among the white people, as well as the Indians. Some could not refrain from crying out, though there were not many so exercised. But the impressions made upon their hearts, appeared chiefly by the extraordinary earnestness of their attention, and their heavy sighs and tears. After public worship was over, I went to my house, proposing to preach again after a short season of intermission. But they soon came in one after another, with tears in their eyes, to know "what they should do to be saved." And the divine Spirit in such a manner set home upon their hearts what I spoke to them, that the house was soon filled with cries and groans. They all flocked together upon this occasion, and those whom I had reason to think in a Christless state, were almost universally seized with concern for their souls. It was an amazing season of power among them, and seemed as if God had "bowed the heavens, and come down." So astonishingly prevalent was the operation upon old as well as young, that it seemed as if none would be left in a secure and natural state, but that God was now about to convert all the world. And I was ready to think then, that I should never again despair of the conversion of any man or woman living, be they who or what they would. It is impossible to give a just and lively description of the appearance of things at this season, at least such as to convey a bright and adequate idea of the effects of this influence. A number might now be seen rejoicing that God had not taken away the powerful influence of his blessed Spirit from this place. Refreshed to see so many "striving to enter in at the strait gate;" and animated with such concern for them, that they wanted "to push them forward," as some of them expressed it. At the same time numbers both of men and women, old and young, might be seen in tears, and some in anguish of spirit, appearing in their very countenances, like condemned malefactors bound towards the place of execution, with a heavy solicitude sitting in their faces: so that there seemed here (as I thought) a lively emblem of the solemn day of accounts; a mixture of heaven and hell, of joy and anguish inexpressible. The concern and religious affection was such, that I could not pretend to have any formal religious exercise among them; but spent the time in discoursing to one and another, as I thought most proper, and seasonable for each, and sometimes addressed them all together, and finally concluded with prayer. Such were their circumstances at this season, that I could scarce have half an hour's rest from speaking from about half an hour before twelve o'clock, (at which time I began public worship,) till past seven at night. There appeared to be four or five persons newly awakened this day and the evening before, some of whom but very lately came among us. Dec. 30. Was visited by four or five young persons under concern for their souls, most of whom were very lately awakened. They wept much while I discoursed to them, and endeavoured to press upon them the necessity flying to Christ, without delay, for salvation. Dec. 31. Spent some hours this day in visiting my people from house to house, and conversing with them about their spiritual concerns; endeavouring to press upon Christless souls the necessity of a renovation of heart: and scarce left a house, without leaving some or other of its inhabitants in tears, appearing solicitously engaged to obtain an interest in Christ. The Indians are now gathered together from all quarters to this place, and have built them little cottages, so that more than twenty families live within a quarter of a mile of me. A very convenient situations in regard both of public and private instruction.. Jan. 1, 1746. Spent some considerable time in visiting my people again. Found scarce one but what was under some serious impressions respecting their spiritual concerns. Jan. 2. Visited some persons newly come among us, who had scarce ever heard any thing of Christianity before, except the empty name. Endeavoured to instruct them, particularly by the first principles of religion, in the most easy and familiar manner I could. There are strangers from remote parts almost continually dropping in among us, so that I have occasion repeatedly to open and inculcate the first principles of Christianity. Jan. 4. Prosecuted my catechetical method of instructing. Found my people able to answer questions with propriety, beyond what could have been expected from persons so lately brought out of heathenish darkness. In the improvement of my discourse, there appeared some concern and affection in the assembly: and especially those of whom I entertained hopes as being truly gracious, at least divers of them, were much affected and refreshed. Lord's day, Jan. 5. Discoursed from Matt. xii. 10-13. There appeared not so much liveliness and affection in divine service as usual. The same truths that have often produced many tears and sobs in the assembly, seemed now to have no special influence upon any in it. Near night I proposed to have proceeded in my usual method of catechising. But while we were engaged in the first prayer, the power of God seemed to descend upon the assembly in such a remarkable manner, and so many appeared under pressing concern for their souls, that I thought it much more expedient to insist upon the plentiful provision made by divine grace for the redemption of perishing sinners, and to press them to a speedy acceptance of the great salvation, than to ask them questions about doctrinal points. What was most practicable, seemed most seasonable to be insisted upon, while numbers appeared so extraordinarily solicitous to obtain an interest in the great Redeemer. Baptized two persons this day; one adult (the woman particularly mentioned in my Journal of Dec. 22) and one child. This woman has discovered a very sweet and heavenly frame of mind, from time to time, since her first reception of comfort. One morning in particular she came to see me, discovering an unusual joy and satisfaction in her countenance; and when I inquired into the reason of it, she replied, "That God had made her feel that it was right for him to do what he pleased with all things; and that it would be right if he should cast her husband and son both into hell; and she saw it was so right for God to do what he pleased with them, that she could not but rejoice if God should send them into hell; "though it was apparent she loved them dearly. She moreover inquired, whether I was not sent to preach to the Indians, by some good people a great way off. I replied, Yes, by the good people in Scotland. She answered, that her heart loved those good people so, the evening before, "that she could scarce help praying for them all night, her heart would go to God for them," &c. So that "the blessing of those ready to perish" is like to come upon those pious persons who have communicated of their substance to the propagation of the gospel. Jan. 11. Discoursed in a catechetical method, as usual of late. And having opened our first parent's primitive apostasy from God, and our fall in him: I proceeded to improve my discourse, by showing the necessity we stood in of an Almighty Redeemer, and the absolute need every sinner has of an interest in his merits and mediation. There was some tenderness and affectionate concern apparent in the assembly. Lord's day, Jan. 12. Preached from Isa. lv. 6. The word of God seemed to fall upon the audience with a divine weight and influence, and evidently appeared to be "not the word of man." The blessed Spirit, I am persuaded, accompanied what was spoken to the hearts of many. So that there was a powerful revival of conviction in numbers who were under spiritual exercise before. Towards night catechised in my usual method. Near the close of my discourse, there appeared a great concern, and much affection in the audience. Which increased while I continued to invite them to come to an all-sufficient Redeemer for eternal salvation. The Spirit of God seems, from time to time, to be striving with numbers of souls here. They are so frequently and repeatedly roused, that they seem unable at present to lull themselves asleep. Jan. 13. Was visited by divers persons under deep concern for their souls; one of whom was newly awakened. It is a most agreeable work to treat with souls who are solicitously inquiring "what they shall do to be saved." And as we are never to "be weary in well-doing," so the obligation seems to be peculiarly strong when the work is so very desirable. And yet I must say, my health is so much impaired, and my spirits so wasted with my labours, and solitary manner of hiving, (there being no human creature in the house with me,) that their repeated and almost incessant application to me for help and direction, are sometimes exceeding burdensome, and so exhaust my spirits, that I become fit for nothing at all, entirely unable to prosecute any business sometimes for days together. And what contributes much toward this difficulty is, that I am obliged to spend much time in communicating a little matter to them; there being oftentimes many things necessary to be premised, before I can speak directly to what I principally aim at; which things would readily be taken for granted, where there was a competency of doctrinal knowledge. Jan. 14. Spent some time in private conference with my people, and found some disposed to take comfort, as I thought, upon slight grounds. They are now generally awakened, and it is become so disgraceful, as well as terrifying to the conscience, to be destitute of religion, that they are in imminent danger of taking up with any appearances of grace, rather than to live under the fear and disgrace of an unregenerate state. Jan. 18. Prosecuted my catechetical method of discoursing. There appeared a great solemnity, and some considerable affection in the assembly. This method of instructing I find very profitable. When I first entered upon it, I was exercised with fears, lest my discourses would unavoidably be so doctrinal, that they would tend only to enlighten the head, but not to affect the heart. But the event proves quite otherwise; for these exercises have hitherto been remarkably blessed in the latter as well as the former respects. Lord's day, Jan. 19. Discoursed to my people from Isa. lv. 7. Towards night catechised in my ordinary method. And this appeared to be a powerful season of grace among us. Numbers were much affected. Convictions were powerfully revived; and divers of the Christians refreshed and strengthened; and one weary, heavy-laden soul, I have abundant reason to hope, brought to true rest and solid comfort in Christ, who afterwards gave me such an account of God's dealing with his soul, as was abundantly satisfying as well as refreshing to me. He told me he had often heard me say, that persons must see and feel themselves utterly helpless and undone: that they must be emptied of a dependence upon themselves, and of all hope of saving themselves by their own doings, in order to their coming to Christ for salvation. And he had long been striving after this view of things supposing this would be an excellent frame of mind, to be thus emptied of a dependence upon his own goodness; that God would have respect to this frame, would then be well pleased with him, and bestow eternal life upon him. But when he came to feel himself in this helpless undone condition, he found it quite contrary to all his thoughts and expectations; so that it was not the same frame, nor indeed any thing like the frame, he had been seeking after. Instead of its being a good frame of mind, he now found nothing but badness in himself, and saw it was for ever impossible for him to make himself any better. He wondered, he said, that he had ever hoped to mend his own heart. He was amazed he had never before seen that it was utterly impossible for him, by all his contrivances and endeavours, to do any thing that way, since the matter now appeared to him in so clear a light. Instead of imagining now, that God would be pleased with him for the sake of this frame of mind, and this view of his undone estate, he saw clearly, and felt, it would be just with God to send him to eternal misery; and that there was no goodness in what he then felt; for he could not help seeing that he was naked, sinful, and miserable, and there was nothing in such a sight to deserve God's love or pity. He saw these things in a manner so clear and convincing, that it seemed to him, he said, he could convince every body of their utter inability ever to help themselves, and their unworthiness of any help from God. In this frame of mind he came to public worship this evening, and while I was inviting sinners to come to Christ naked and empty, without any goodness of their own to recommend them to his acceptance; then he thought with himself, that he had often tried to come and give up his heart to Christ, and he used to hope, that some time or other he should be able to do so. But now he was convinced he could not, and it seemed utterly vain for him ever to try any more: and he could not, he said, find a heart to make any further attempt, because he saw it would signify nothing at all: nor did he now hope for a better opportunity, or more ability hereafter, as he had formerly done, because he saw, and was fully convinced, his own strength would for ever fail. While he was musing in this manner, he saw, he said, with his heart (which is a common phrase among them) something that was unspeakably good and lovely, and what he had never seen before; and "this stole away his heart whether he would or no." He did not, he said, know what it was he saw. He did not say, "this is Jesus Christ;" but it was such glory and beauty as he never saw before. He did not now give away his heart so as he had formerly intended and attempted to do, but it went away of itself after that glory he then discovered. He used to try to make a bargain with Christ, to give up his heart to him, that he might have eternal life for it. But now he thought nothing about himself, or what would become of him hereafter; but was pleased, and his mind wholly taken up, with the unspeakable excellency of what he then beheld. After some time he was wonderfully pleased with the way of salvation by Christ: so that it seemed unspeakably better to be saved altogether by the mere free grace of God in Christ, than to have any hand in saving himself. And the consequence of this exercise is, that he appears to retain a sense and relish of divine things, and to maintain a life of seriousness and true religion. Jan. 28. The Indians in these parts have, in times past, run themselves in debt by their excessive drinking; and some have taken the advantage of them, and put them to trouble and charge by arresting sundry of them; whereby it was supposed their hunting lands, in great part, were much endangered, and might speedily be taken from them. Being sensible that they could not subsist together in these parts, in order to their being a Christian congregation, if these lands should be taken, which was thought very likely, I thought it my duty to use my utmost endeavours to prevent so unhappy an event. And having acquainted the gentlemen concerned with this mission of the affair, according to the best information I could get of it, they thought it proper to expend the money they had been, and still were, collecting for the religious interest of the Indians, (at least a part of it,) for discharging their debts, and securing these lands, that there might be no entanglement lying upon them to hinder the settlement and hopeful enlargement of a Christian congregation of Indians in these parts. And having received orders from them, I answered, in behalf of the Indians, eighty-two pounds five shillings, New Jersey currency, at eight shillings per ounce; and so prevented the danger of difficulty in this respect. As God has wrought a wonderful work of grace among these Indians, and now inclines others from remote places to fall in among them almost continually; and as he has opened a door for the prevention of the difficulty now mentioned, which seemed greatly to threaten their religious interests, as well as worldly comfort; it is hopeful that he designs to establish a church for himself among them, and hand down true religion to their posterity. Jan. 30. Preached to the Indians from John iii. 16, 17. There was a solemn attention and some affection visible in the audience; especially divers persons who had long been concerned for their souls, seemed afresh excited and engaged in seeking after an interest in Christ. And one, with much concern, afterwards told me, "his heart was so pricked with my preaching, he knew not where to turn, nor what to do." Jan. 31. This day the person I had made choice of and engaged for a schoolmaster among the Indians, arrived among us, and was heartily welcomed by my people universally. Whereupon I distributed several dozen of primers among the children and young people. Feb. 1, 1746. My schoolmaster entered upon his business among the Indians. He has generally about thirty children and young persons in his school in the day-time, and about fifteen married people in his evening-school. The number of the latter sort of persons being less than it would be, if they could be more constant at home, and spare time from their necessary employments for an attendance upon these instructions. In the evening catechised in my usual method. Towards the close of my discourse a surprising power seemed to attend the word, especially to some persons. One man, considerably in years, who had been a remarkable drunkard, a conjurer, and murderer, that was awakened some months before, was now brought to great extremity under his spiritual distress, so that he trembled for hours together, and apprehended himself just dropping into hell, without any power to rescue or relieve himself. Divers others appeared under great concern as well as he, and solicitous to obtain a saving change. Lord's day, Feb. 2. Preached from John v. 24, 25. There appeared (as usual) some concern and affection in the assembly. Toward night proceeded in my usual method of catechising. Observed my people more ready in answering the questions proposed to them than ever before. It is apparent they advanced daily in doctrinal knowledge. But what is still more desirable, the Spirit of God is yet operating among them, whereby experimental, as well as speculative, knowledge is propagated in their minds. Feb. 5. Discoursed to a considerable number of the Indians in the evening; at which time divers of them appeared much affected and melted with divine things. Feb. 8. Spent a considerable part of the day in visiting my people from house to house, and conversing with them about their souls' concerns. Divers persons wept while I discoursed to them, and appeared concerned for nothing so much as for an interest in the great Redeemer. In the evening catechised as usual. Divine truths made some impression upon the audience, and were attended with an affectionate engagement of soul in some. Lord's day, Feb. 9. Discoursed to my people from the story of the blind man, Matt. x. 46-52. The word of God seemed weighty and powerful upon the assembly at this time, and made considerable impressions upon many; divers in particular who have generally been remarkably stupid and careless under the means of grace, were now awakened, and wept affectionately. And the most earnest attention, as well as tenderness and affection, appeared in the audience universally. Baptized three persons, two adults and one child. The adults, I have reason to hope, were both truly pious. There was a considerable melting in the assembly, while I was discoursing particularly to the persons, and administering the ordinance. God has been pleased to own and bless the administration of this, as well as of his other ordinances, among the Indians. There are some here that have been powerfully awakened at seeing others baptized. And some that have obtained relief and comfort, just in the season when this ordinance has been administered. Toward night catechised. God made this a powerful season to some. There were many affected. Former convictions appeared to be powerfully revived. There was likewise one, who had been a vile drunkard, remarkably awakened. He appeared to be in great anguish of soul, wept and trembled, and continued so to do till near midnight. There was also a poor heavy laden soul, who had been long under spiritual distress, as constant and pressing as ever I saw, that was now brought to a comfortable calm, and seemed to be bowed and reconciled to divine sovereignty; and told me, "She now saw and felt it was right God should do with her as he pleased. And her heart felt pleased and satisfied it should be so." Although of late she had often found her heart rise and quarrel with God because he would, if he pleased, send her to hell after all she had done or could do to save herself, &c. And added, that the heavy burden she had lain under, was now removed: that she had tried to recover her concern and distress again, (fearing that the Spirit of God was departing from her, and would leave her wholly careless,) but that she could not recover it: that she felt she never could do any thing to save herself, but must perish for ever if Christ did not do all for her: that she did not deserve he should help her; and that it would be right if he should leave her to perish. But Christ could save her, though she could do nothing to save herself, &c. And here she seemed to rest. Forks Of Delaware, in Pennsylvania, Feb. 1746. Lord's day, Feb. 16. Knowing that divers of the Indians in those parts were obstinately set against Christianity, and that some of them had refused to hear me preach in times past, I thought it might be proper and beneficial to the Christian interest here, to have a number of my religious people from Crossweeksung with me, in order to converse with them about religious matters; hoping it might be a means to convince them of the truth and importance of Christianity, to see and hear some of their own nation discoursing of divine things, and manifesting earnest desires that others might be brought out of heathenish darkness, as themselves were. And having taken half a dozen of the most serious and knowing persons for this purpose, I this day met with them and the Indians of this place, (sundry of whom probably could not have been prevailed upon to attend the meeting, had it not been for these religious Indians that accompanied me here,) and preached to them. Some of them who had, in times past, been extremely averse to Christianity, now behaved soberly, and some others laughed and mocked. However the word of God fell with such weight and power, that sundry seemed to be stunned, and expressed a willingness to "hear me again of these matters." Afterwards prayed with, and made an address to the white people present, and could not but observe some visible effects of the word, such as tears and sobs, among them. After public worship, spent some time and took pains to convince those that mocked, of the truth and importance of what I had been insisting upon; and so endeavoured to awaken their attention to divine truths. And had reason to think, from what I observed then and afterwards, that my endeavours took considerable effect upon one of the worst of them. Those few Indians then present, who used to be my hearers in these parts, (some having removed from hence to Crossweeksung,) seemed somewhat kindly disposed toward, and glad to see me again. They had been so much attacked by some of the opposing pagans, that they were almost ashamed or afraid to manifest their friendship. Feb. 17. After having spent much time in discoursing to the Indians in their respective houses, I got them together, and repeated and inculcated what I had before taught them. Afterwards discoursed to them from Acts viii. 5-8. A divine influence seemed to attend the word. Sundry of the Indians here appeared to be somewhat awakened, and manifested a concern of mind, by their earnest attention, tears and sobs. My people from Crossweeksung continued with them day and night, repeating and inculcating the truths I had taught them: and sometimes prayed and sung psalms among them; discoursing with each other, in their hearing, of the great things God had done for them, and for the Indians from whence they came: which seemed (as my people told me) to take more effect upon them, than when they directed their discourses immediately to them. Feb. 18. Preached to an assembly of Irish people near fifteen miles distant from the Indians. Feb. 19. Preached to the Indians again, after having spent considerable time in conversing with them more privately. There appeared a great solemnity, and some concern and affection, among the Indians belonging to these parts, as well as a sweet melting among those who came with me. Divers of the Indians here seemed to have their prejudices and aversion to Christianity removed, and appeared well disposed and inclined to hear the word of God. Feb. 20. Preached to a small assembly of High-Dutch people, who had seldom heard the gospel preached, and were (some of them at least) very ignorant; but divers of them have lately been put upon inquiry after the way of salvation, with some thoughtfulness. They gave wonderful attention, and some of them were much affected under the word, and afterwards said, (as I was informed,) that they never had been so much enlightened about the way of salvation in their whole lives before. They requested me to tarry with them, or come again and preach to them. And it grieved me that I could not comply with their request, for I could not but be affected with their circumstances; they being as "sheep not having a shepherd," and some of them appearing under some degree of soul-trouble, standing in peculiar need of the assistance of an experienced spiritual guide. Feb. 21. Preached to a number of people, many of them Low-Dutch. Sundry of the fore-mentioned High-Dutch attended the sermon, though eight or ten miles distant from their houses. Divers of the Indians also belonging to these parts came of their own accord with my people (from Crossweeksung) to the meeting. And there were two in particular, who, though the last sabbath they opposed and ridiculed Christianity, now behaved soberly. May the present encouraging appearance continue. Feb. 22. Preached to the Indians. They appeared more free from prejudice, and more cordial to Christianity, than before. And some of them appeared affected with divine truths. Lord's day, Feb. 23. Preached to the Indians from John vi. 35-37. After public service, discoursed particularly with sundry of them, and invited them to go down to Crossweeksung, and tarry there at least for some time; knowing they would then be free from the scoffs and temptations of the opposing pagans, as well as in the way of hearing divine truths discoursed of, both in public and private. And got a promise of some of them, that they would speedily pay us a visit, and attend some further instructions. They seemed to be considerably enlightened, and much freed from their prejudices against Christianity. But it is much to be feared their prejudices will revive again, unless they could enjoy the means of instruction here, or be removed where they might be under such advantages, and out of the way of their pagan acquaintance. Crossweeksung, in New Jersey, March, 1746. March 1. Catechised in my ordinary method. Was pleased and refreshed to see them answer the questions proposed to them with such remarkable readiness, discretion, and knowledge. Toward the close of my discourse, divine truths made considerable impressions upon the audience, and produced tears and sobs in some under concern; and more especially a sweet and humble melting in sundry that, I have reason to hope, were truly gracious. Lord's day, March 2. Preached from John xv. 1-6. The assembly appeared not so lively in their attention as usual, nor so much affected with divine truths in general as has been common. Some of my people, who went up to the Forks of Delaware with me, being now returned, were accompanied by two of the Indians belonging to the Forks, who had promised me a speedy visit. May the Lord meet with them there. They can scarce go into a house now, but they will meet with Christian conversation, whereby, it is hopeful, they may be both instructed and awakened. Discoursed to the Indians again in the afternoon, and observed among them some liveliness and engagement in divine service, thought not equal to what has often appeared here. I know of no assembly of Christians, where there seems to be so much of the presence of God, where brotherly love so much prevails, and where I should take so much delight in the public worship of God, in the general, as in my own congregation: although not more than nine months ago, they were worshipping devils and dumb idols under the power of pagan darkness and superstition. Amazing change this! effected by nothing less than divine power and grace! "This is the doing of the Lord, and it is justly marvellous in our eyes!" March 5. Spent some time just at evening in prayer, singing, and discoursing to my people upon divine things; and observed some agreeable tenderness and affection among them. Their present situation is so compact and commodious, that they are easily and quickly called together with only the sound of a conk-shell, (a shell like that of a periwinkle,) so that they have frequent opportunities of attending religious exercises publicly; which seems to be a great means, under God, of keeping alive the impressions of divine things in their minds. March 8. Catechised in the evening. My people answered the questions proposed to them well. I can perceive their knowledge in religion increases daily. And what is still more desirable, the divine influence that has been so remarkable among them appears still to continue in some good measure. The divine presence seemed to be in the assembly this evening. Some, who I have good reason to think are Christians indeed, were melted with a sense of the divine goodness, and their own barrenness and ingratitude, and seemed to hate themselves, as one of them afterwards expressed it. Convictions also appeared to be revived in several instances; and divine truths were attended with such influence upon the assembly in general, that it might justly be called "an evening of divine power." Lord's day, March 9. Preached from Luke x. 38-42. The word of God was attended with power and energy upon the audience. Numbers were affected and concerned to obtain the one thing needful. And sundry that have given good evidences of being truly gracious, were much affected with a sense of their want of spirituality; and saw the need they stood in of growing in grace. And most that had been under any impressions of divine things in times past, seemed now to have those impressions revived. In the afternoon proposed to have catechised in my usual method. But while we were engaged in the first prayer in the Indian language, (as usual,) a great part of the assembly was so much moved, and affected with divine things, that I thought it seasonable and proper to omit the proposing of questions for that time, and insist upon the most practical truths. And accordingly did so; making a further improvement of the passage of Scripture I discoursed upon in the former part of the day. There appeared to be a powerful divine influence in the congregation. Sundry that I have reason to think are truly pious, were so deeply affected with a sense of their own barrenness, and their unworthy treatment of the blessed Redeemer, that they looked on him as pierced by themselves, and mourned, yea, some of them were in bitterness as for a first-born. Some poor awakened sinners also appeared to be in anguish of soul to obtain an interest in Christ. So that there was a great mourning in the assembly; many heavy groans, sobs, and tears! and one or two persons newly come among us, were considerably awakened. Methinks it would have refreshed the heart of any who truly love Zion's interest, to have been in the midst of this divine influence, and seen the effects of it upon saints and sinners. The place of divine worship appeared both solemn and sweet! and was so endeared by a display of the divine presence and grace, that those who had any relish of divine things, could not but cry, "How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts!" After public worship was over, numbers came to my house, where we sang and discoursed of divine things: and the presence of God seemed here also to be in the midst of us. While we were singing, there was one (the woman mentioned in my Journal of Feb. 9) who, I may venture to say, if I may be allowed to say so much of any person I ever saw, was "filled with joy unspeakable and full of glory," and could not but burst forth in prayer and praises to God before us all, with many tears, crying sometimes in English and sometimes in Indian, "O blessed Lord, do come, do come! O do take me away, do let me die and go to Jesus Christ! I am afraid if I live I shall sin again! O do let me die now! O dear Jesus, do come! I cannot stay, I cannot stay! O how can I live in this world! do take my soul away from this sinful place! O let me never sin any more! O what shall I do, what shall I do! dear Jesus, O dear Jesus," &c. In this ecstasy she continued some time, uttering these and such like expressions incessantly. And the grand argument she used with God to take her away immediately, was, that "if she lived, she should sin against him." When she had a little recovered herself, I asked her, if Christ was not now sweet to her soul? Whereupon, turning to me with tears in her eyes, and with all the tokens of deep humility I ever saw in any person, she said, "I have many times heard you speak of the goodness and the sweetness of Christ, that he was better than all the world. But O! I knew nothing what you meant, I never believed you! I never believed you! But now I know it is true!" or words to that effect. I answered, And do you see enough in Christ for the greatest of sinners? She replied, "O! enough, enough! for all the sinners in the world if they would but come." And when I asked her, if she could not tell them of the goodness of Christ; turning herself about to some poor Christless souls who stood by, and were much affected, she said, "Oh! there is enough in Christ for you, if you would but come! O strive, strive to give up your hearts to him!" &c. And upon hearing something of the glory of heaven mentioned, that there was no sin in that world, &c. she again fell into the same ecstasy of joy, and desire of Christ's coming; repeating her former expressions, "O dear Lord, do let me go! O what shall I do, what shall I do! I want to go to Christ! I cannot live! O do let me die!" &c. She continued in this sweet frame for more than two hours, before she was well able to get home. I am very sensible there may be great joys, arising even to an ecstasy, where there is still no substantial evidence of their being well-grounded. But in the present case there seemed to be no evidence wanting, in order to prove this joy to be divine, either in regard of its preparatives, attendants, or consequents. Of all the persons I have seen under spiritual exercise, I scarce ever saw one appear more bowed and broken under convictions of sin and misery (or what is usually called a preparatory work) than this woman. Nor scarce any who seemed to have a greater acquaintance with her own heart than she had. She would frequently complain to me of the hardness and rebellion of her heart. Would tell me, her heart rose and quarrelled with God, when she thought he would do with her as he pleased, and send her to hell notwithstanding her prayers, good frames, &c. That her heart was not willing to come to Christ for salvation, but tried every where else for help. And as she seemed to be remarkably sensible of her stubbornness and contrariety to God, under conviction, so she appeared to be no less remarkably bowed and reconciled to divine sovereignty before she obtained any relief or comfort. Something of which I have before noticed in my Journal of Feb. 9. Since which time she has seemed constantly to breathe the spirit and temper of the new creature: crying after Christ, not through fear of hell as before, but with strong desires after him as her only satisfying portion; and has many times wept and sobbed bitterly, because (as she apprehended) she did not and could not love him. When I have sometimes asked her, Why she appeared so sorrowful, and whether it was because she was afraid of hell? She would answer, "No, I be not distressed about that; but my heart is so wicked I cannot love Christ;" and thereupon burst out into tears. But although this has been the habitual frame of her mind for several weeks together, so that the exercise of grace appeared evident to others, yet she seemed wholly insensible of it herself, and never had any remarkable comfort and sensible satisfaction till this evening. This sweet and surprising ecstasy appeared to spring from a true spiritual discovery of the glory, ravishing beauty, and excellency of Christ: and not from any gross imaginary notions of his human nature; such as that of seeing him in such a place or posture, as hanging on the cross, as bleeding, dying, as gently smiling, and the like; which delusions some have been carried away with. Nor did it rise from sordid, selfish apprehensions of her having any benefit whatsoever conferred on her, but from a view of his personal excellency, and transcendent loveliness, which drew forth those vehement desires of enjoying him she now manifested, and made her long "to be absent from the body that she might be present with the Lord." The attendants of this ravishing comfort, were such as abundantly discovered its spring to be divine, and that it was truly a "joy in the Holy Ghost. " Now she viewed divine truths as living realities; and could say, "I know these things are so, I feel they are true!" Now her soul was resigned to the divine will in the most tender points; so that when I said to her, What if God should take away your [423] husband from you, (who was then very sick,) how do you think you could bear that? She replied, "He belongs to God, and not to me; he may do with him just what he pleases." Now she had the most tender sense of the evil of sin, and discovered the utmost aversion to it; longing to die that she might be delivered from it. Now she could freely trust her all with God for time and eternity. And when I questioned her, how she could be willing to die, and leave her little infant; and what she thought would become of it in that case? She answered, "God will take care of it. It belongs to him, he will take care of it." Now she appeared to have the most humbling sense of her own meanness and unworthiness, her weakness and inability to preserve herself from sin, and to persevere in the way of holiness, crying, "If I live, I shall sin." And I then thought I had never seen such an appearance of ecstasy and humility meeting in any one person in all my life before. The consequents of this joy are no less desirable and satisfactory than its attendants. She since appears to be a most tender, broken-hearted, affectionate, devout, and humble Christian, as exemplary in life and conversation as any person in my congregation. May she still "grow in grace, and in the knowledge of Christ." March 10. Toward night the Indians met together of their own accord, and sang, prayed, and discoursed of divine things among themselves. At which time there was much affection among them. Some who are hopefully gracious, appeared to be melted with divine things. And some others seemed much concerned for their souls. Perceiving their engagement and affection in religious exercises, I went among them, and prayed, and gave a word of exhortation; and observed two or three somewhat affected and concerned, who scarce ever appeared to be under any religious impressions before. It seemed to be a day and evening of divine power. Numbers retained the warm impressions of divine things that had been made upon their minds the day before. March 14. Was visited by a considerable number of my people, and spent some time in religious exercises with them. March 15. In the evening catechised. My people answered the questions put to them with surprising readiness and judgment. There appeared some warmth and feeling sense of divine things among those, who, I have reason to hope, are real Christians, while I was discoursing upon "peace of conscience, and joy in the Holy Ghost." These seemed quickened and enlivened in divine service, though there was not so much appearance of concern among those I have reason to think in a Christless state. Lord's day, March 16. Preached to my congregation from Heb. ii. 1-3. Divine truths seemed to have some considerable influence upon many of the hearers; and produced many tears, as well as heavy sighs and sobs, among both those who have given evidences of being real Christians, and others also. And the impressions made upon the audience appeared in general deep and heart-affecting, not superficial, noisy, and affected. Toward night discoursed again on the great salvation. The word was again attended with some power upon the audience. Numbers wept affectionately, and to appearance, unfeignedly; so that the Spirit of God seemed to be moving upon the face of the assembly. Baptized the woman particularly mentioned in my Journal of last Lord's day; who now, as well as then, appeared to be in a devout, humble, and excellent frame of mind. My house being thronged with my people in the evening, I spent the time in religious exercises with them till my nature was almost spent. They are so unwearied in religious exercises, and insatiable in their thirsting after Christian knowledge, that I can sometimes scarce avoid labouring so as greatly to exhaust my strength and spirits. March 19. Sundry of the persons that went with me to the Forks of Delaware in February last, having been detained there by the dangerous illness of one of their company, returned home but this day. Whereupon my people generally met together of their own accord, in order to spend some time in religious exercises; and especially to give thanks to God for his preserving goodness to those who had been absent from them for several weeks, and recovering mercy to him who had been sick; and that he had now returned them all in safety. I being then absent, they desired my schoolmaster to assist them in carrying on their religious solemnity; who tells me they appeared engaged and affectionate in repeated prayer, singing. &c. March 22. Catechised in my usual method in the evening. My people answered questions to my great satisfaction. There appeared nothing very remarkable in the assembly, considering what has been common among us. Although I may justly say, the strict attention, the tenderness and affection, the many tears and heart-affecting sobs, appearing in numbers in the assembly, would have been very remarkable, were it not that God has made these things common with us, and even with strangers soon after their coming among us, from time to time. I am far from thinking that every appearance, and particular instance of affection, that has been among us, has been truly genuine, and purely from a divine influence. I am sensible of the contrary; and doubt not but that there has been some corrupt mixture, some chaff as well as wheat, especially since religious concern became so common and prevalent here. Lord's day, March 23. There being about fifteen strangers, adult persons, come among us in the week past divers of whom had never been in any religions meeting till now I thought it proper to discourse this day in a manner peculiarly suited to their circumstances and capacities: and accordingly attempted it from Hos. xiii. 9. "O Israel, thou hast destroyed thyself," &c. In the forenoon I opened, in the plainest manner I could, man's apostasy and ruined state, after having spoken some things respecting the being and perfections of God, and his creation of man in a state of uprightness and happiness. In the afternoon endeavoured to open the glorious provision God has made for the redemption of apostate creatures, by giving his own dear Son to suffer for them, and satisfy divine justice on their behalf. There was not that affection and concern in the assembly that has been common among us, although there was a desirable attention appearing in general, and even in most of the strangers. Near sun-set I felt an uncommon concern upon my mind, especially for the poor strangers, that God had so much withheld his presence, and the powerful influence of his Spirit, from the assembly in the exercises of the day; and thereby denied them of that matter of conviction which I hoped they might have had. And in this frame I visited sundry houses, and discoursed with some concern and affection to divers persons particularly; but without much appearance of success, till I came to a house where divers of the strangers were; and there the solemn truths I discoursed of appeared to take effect, first upon some children, then upon divers adult persons that had been somewhat awakened before, and afterwards upon several of the pagan strangers. I continued my discourse, with some fervency, till almost every one in the house was melted into tears; and divers wept aloud, and appeared earnestly concerned to obtain an interest in Christ. Upon this, numbers soon gathered from all the houses round about, and so thronged the place, that we were obliged to remove to the house where we usually meet for public worship. And the congregation gathering immediately, and many appeared remarkably affected, I discoursed some time from Luke xix. 10. "For the Son of man is come to seek," &c. Endeavouring to open the mercy, compassion, and concern of Christ for lost, helpless, and undone sinners. There was much visible concern and affection in the assembly; and I doubt not but that a divine influence accompanied what was spoken to the hearts of many. There were five or six of the strangers, men and women, who appeared to be considerably awakened. And in particular one very rugged young man, who seemed as if nothing would move him, was now brought to tremble like the jailer, and weep for a long time. The pagans that were awakened seemed at once to put off their savage roughness and pagan manners, and became sociable, orderly, and humane in their carriage. When they first came, I exhorted my religious people to take pains with them (as they had done with other strangers from time to time) to instruct them in Christianity. But when some of them attempted something of that nature, the strangers would soon rise up and walk to other houses, in order to avoid the hearing of such discourses. Whereupon some of the serious persons agreed to disperse themselves into the several parts of the settlement. So that wherever the strangers went, they met with some instructive discourse, and warm addresses respecting their souls' concern. But now there was no need of using policy in order to get an opportunity of conversing with some of them about their spiritual concerns; for they were so far touched with a sense of their perishing state, as made them tamely yield to the closest addresses that were made them, respecting their sin and misery, their need of an acquaintance with, and interest in, the great Redeemer. March 24. Numbered the Indians, to see how many souls God had gathered together here, since my coming into these parts; and found there was now about a hundred and thirty persons together, old and young. Sundry of those that are my stated hearers, perhaps to the number of fifteen or twenty, were absent at this season. So that if all had been together, the number would now have been very considerable: especially considering how few were together at my first coming into these parts, the whole number not amounting to ten persons at that time. My people went out this day upon the design of clearing some of their land, above fifteen miles distant from this settlement, in order to their settling there in a compact form; where they might be under advantages of attending the public worship of God, of having their children taught in a school, and at the same time have a conveniency for planting, &c.; their land in the place of our present residence being of little or no value for that purpose. And the design of their settling thus in a body, and cultivating their lands, (which they have done very little in their pagan state,) being of such necessity and importance to their religious interest, as well as worldly comfort, I thought it proper to call them together, and show them the duty of labouring with faithfulness and industry: and that they must not now "be slothful in business," as they had ever been in their pagan state. I endeavoured to press the importance of their being laborious, diligent, and vigorous in the prosecution of their business, especially at the present juncture, (the season of planting being now near,) in order to their being in a capacity of living together, and enjoying the means of grace and instruction. And having given them directions for their work, which they very much wanted, as well as for their behaviour in divers respects, I explained, sang, and endeavoured to inculcate upon them Ps. cxxvii. common metre, Dr. Watts's version. And having recommended them, and the design of their going forth, to God, by prayer with them, I dismissed them to their business. In the evening read and expounded to those of my people who were yet at home, and the strangers newly come, the substance of the third chapter of the Acts. Numbers seemed to melt under the word, especially while I was discoursing upon ver. 19. "Repent ye therefore, and be converted," &c. Sundry of the strangers also were affected. When I asked them afterwards, whether they did not now feel that their hearts were wicked, as I had taught them? One replied, "Yes, she felt it now." Although before she came here upon hearing that I taught the Indians their hearts were all bad by nature, and needed to be changed and made good by the power of God she had said, "Her heart was not wicked, and she never had done any thing that was bad in her life." And this indeed seems to be the case with them, I think, universally in their pagan state. They seem to have no consciousness of sin and guilt, unless they can charge themselves with some gross acts of sin contrary to the commands of the second table. March 27. Discoursed to a number of my people in one of their houses in a more private manner. Inquired particularly into their spiritual states, in order to see what impressions of a religious nature they were under. Laid before them the marks and tokens of a regenerate, as well as unregenerate, state: and endeavoured to suit and direct my discourse to them severally, according as I apprehended their states to be. There was a considerable number gathered together before I finished my discourse; and divers seemed much affected, while I was urging the necessity and infinite importance of getting into a renewed state. I find particular and close dealing with souls in private, is often very successful. March 29. In the evening catechised as usual upon Saturday. Treated upon the "benefits which believers receive from Christ at death." The questions were answered with great readiness and propriety. And those who, I have reason to think, are the dear people of God, were sweetly melted almost in general. There appeared such a liveliness and vigour in their attendance upon the word of God, and such eagerness to be made partakers of the benefits then mentioned, that they seemed to be not only "looking for, but hasting to, the coming of the day of God." Divine truths seemed to distil upon the audience with a gentle but melting efficacy, as the refreshing "showers upon the new-mown grass." The assembly in general, as well as those who appear truly religious, were affected with some brief account of the blessedness of the godly at death: and most then discovered an affectionate inclination to cry, "Let me die the death of the righteous," &c. although many were not duly engaged to obtain the change of heart that is necessary in order to that blessed end. Lord's day, March 30. Discoursed from Matt. xxv. 31-40. There was a very considerable moving and affectionate melting in the assembly. I hope there were some real, deep, and abiding impressions of divine things made upon the minds of many. There was one aged man, newly come among us, who appeared to be considerably awakened, that never was touched with any concern for his soul before. In the evening catechised. There was not that tenderness and melting engagement among God's people that appeared the evening before, and many other times. They answered the questions distinctly and well, and were devout and attentive in divine service. March 31. Called my people together, as I had done the Monday morning before, and discoursed to them again on the necessity and importance of their labouring industriously, in order to their living together, and enjoying the means of grace, &c. And having engaged in solemn prayer to God among them, for a blessing upon their attempts, I dismissed them to their work. Numbers of them, both men and women, seemed to offer themselves willingly to this service; and some appeared affectionately concerned that God might go with them, and begin their little town for them; that by his blessing it might be a place comfortable for them and theirs, in regard both of procuring, the necessaries of life, and of attending the worship of God. April 5. Catechised towards evening. There appeared to be some affection and fervent engagement in divine service through the assembly in general; especially towards the conclusion of my discourse. After public worship, a number of those I have reason to think are truly religious, came to my house, and seemed eager for some further entertainment upon divine things. And while I was conversing with them about their spiritual exercises, observing to them, that God's work in the hearts of all his children was, for substance, the same; and that their trials and temptations were also alike; and showing the obligations such were under to love one another in a peculiar manner; they seemed to be melted into tenderness and affection toward each other: and I thought that particular token of their being the disciples of Christ, viz. of their "having love one toward another," had scarce ever appeared more evident than at this time. Lord's day, April 6. Preached from Matt. vii. 21 23. "Not every one that saith unto me," &c. There were considerable effects of the word visible in the audience, and such as were very desirable: an earnest attention, a great solemnity, many tears and heavy sighs, which were modestly suppressed in a considerable measure, and appeared unaffected, and without any indecent commotion of the passions. Divers of the religious people were put upon serious and close examination of their spiritual states, by hearing that "not every one that saith to Christ, Lord, Lord, shall enter into his kingdom." And some of them expressed fears lest they had deceived themselves, and taken up a false hope, because they found they had done so little of the "will of his Father who is in heaven." There was one man brought under very great and pressing concern for his soul; which appeared more especially after his retirement from public worship. And that which, he says, gave him his great uneasiness, was, not so much any particular sin, as that he had never done the will of God at all, but had sinned continually, and so had no claim to the kingdom of heaven. In the afternoon I opened to them the discipline of Christ in his church, and the method in which offenders are to be dealt with. At which time the religious people were much affected, especially when they heard, that the offender continuing obstinate, must finally be esteemed and treated "as a heathen man," as a pagan, that has no part nor lot among God's visible people. Of this they seemed to have the most awful apprehensions; a state of heathenism, out of which they were so lately brought, appearing very dreadful to them. After public worship I visited sundry houses to see how they spent the remainder of the sabbath, and to treat with them solemnly on the great concerns of their souls: and the Lord seemed to smile upon my private endeavours, and to make these particular and personal addresses more effectual upon some, than my public discourses. April 7. Discoursed to my people in the evening from 1 Cor. xi. 23-26. "For I have received of the Lord," &c. And endeavoured to open to them the institution, nature, and ends of the Lord's supper, as well as the qualifications and preparations necessary to the right participation of that ordinance. Sundry persons appeared much affected with the love of Christ manifested in his making this provision for the comfort of his people, at a season when himself was just entering upon his sharpest sufferings. Lord's day, April 20. Discoursed both forenoon and afternoon from Luke xxiv. explaining most of the chapter, and making remarks upon it. There was a desirable attention in the audience, though there was not so much appearance of affection and tenderness among them as has been usual. Our meeting was very full, there being sundry strangers present, who had never been with us before. In the evening catechised. My people answered the questions proposed to them readily and distinctly; and I could perceive they advanced in their knowledge of the principles of Christianity. There appeared an affectionate melting in the assembly at this time. Sundry who, I trust, are truly religious, were refreshed and quickened, and seemed by their discourse and behaviour, after public worship, to have their "hearts knit together in love." This was a sweet and blessed season, like many others that my poor people have been favoured with in months past. God has caused this little fleece to be repeatedly wet with the blessed dews of his divine grace, while all the earth around has been comparatively dry. April 25. Of late I apprehended that a number of persons in my congregation were proper subjects of the ordinance of the Lord's supper, and that it might be seasonable speedily to administer it to them: and having taken advice of some of the reverend correspondents in this solemn affair; I accordingly proposed and appointed the next Lord's day, with leave of Divine Providence, for the administration of this ordinance; and this day, as preparatory thereto, was set apart for solemn fasting and prayer. The design of this preparatory solemnity was to implore the blessing of God upon our renewing covenant with him and with one another, to walk together in the fear of God, in love and Christian fellowship: and to entreat that his presence might be with us in our designed approach to his table; as well as to humble ourselves before God on account of the apparent withdrawment (at least in a measure) of that blessed influence which has been so prevalent upon persons of all ages among us; as also on account of the rising appearance of carelessness, vanity, and vice among some, who, some time since, appeared to be touched and affected with divine truths, and brought to some sensibility of their miserable and perishing state by nature. And that we might also importunately pray for the peaceable settlement of the Indians together in a body, that they might be a commodious congregation for the worship of God; and that God would blast and defeat all the attempts that were or might be made against that pious design. [424] The solemnity was observed and seriously attended, not only by those who proposed to communicate at the Lord's table, but by the whole congregation universally. In the former part of the day, I endeavoured to open to my people the nature and design of a fast, as I had attempted more briefly to do before, and to instruct them in the duties of such a solemnity. In the afternoon, I insisted upon the special reasons there were for our engaging in these solemn exercises at this time; both in regard of the need we stood in of divine assistance, in order to a due preparation for that sacred ordinance some of us were proposing, with leave of Divine Providence, speedily to attend upon; and also in respect of the manifest decline of God's work here, as to the effectual conviction and conversion of sinners, there having been few of late deeply awakened out of a state of security. The worship of God was attended with great solemnity and reverence, with much tenderness and many tears, by those who appear to be truly religious: and there was some appearance of divine power upon those who had been awakened some time before, and who were still under concern. After repeated prayer and attendance upon the word of God, I proposed to the religious people, with as much brevity and plainness as I could, the substance of the doctrine of the Christian faith, as I had formerly done, previous to their baptism, and had their renewed cheerful assent to it. I then led them to a solemn renewal of their baptismal covenant, wherein they had explicitly and publicly given up themselves to God the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, avouching him to be their God; and at the same time renouncing their heathenish vanities, their idolatrous and superstitious practices, and solemnly engaging to take the word of God, so far as it was, or might be, made known to them, for the rule of their lives, promising to walk together in love, to watch over themselves, and one another; to lead lives of seriousness and devotion, and to discharge the relative duties incumbent upon them respectively, &c. This solemn transaction was attended with much gravity and seriousness; and at the same time with utmost readiness, freedom, and cheerfulness; and a religious union and harmony of soul seemed to crown the whole solemnity. I could not but think in the evening, that there had been manifest tokens of the divine presence with us in all the several services of the day; though it was also manifest there was not that concern among Christless souls that has often appeared here. April 26. Toward noon prayed with a dying child, and gave a word of exhortation to the by-standers to prepare for death, which seemed to take effect upon some. In the afternoon discoursed to my people from Matt. xxvi. 26-30. of the author, the nature, and design of the Lord's supper; and endeavoured to point out the worthy receivers of that ordinance. The religious people were affected, and even melted with divine truths, with a view of the dying love of Christ. Sundry others who had been for some months under convictions of their perishing state, appeared now to be much moved with concern, and afresh engaged in seeking after an interest in Christ; although I cannot say "the word of God" appeared "so quick and powerful," so sharp and piercing to the assembly, as it had sometimes formerly done. Baptized two adult persons, both serious and exemplary in their lives, and, I hope, truly religious. One of them was the man particularly mentioned in my Journal of the 6th instant; who, although he was then greatly distressed, because "he had never done the will of God," has since, it is hoped, obtained spiritual comfort upon good grounds. In the evening I catechised those that were designed to partake of the Lord's supper the next day, upon the institution, nature, and end of that ordinance; and had abundant satisfaction respecting their doctrinal knowledge and fitness in that respect for an attendance upon it. They likewise appeared, in general, to have an affecting sense of the solemnity of this sacred ordinance, and to be humbled under a sense of their own unworthiness to approach to God in it; and to be earnestly concerned that they might be duly prepared for an attendance upon it. Their hearts were full of love one toward another, and that was the frame of mind they seemed much concerned to maintain, and bring to the Lord's table with them. In the singing and prayer, after catechising, there appeared an agreeable tenderness and melting among them, and such tokens of brotherly love and affection, that would even constrain one to say, "Lord, it is good to be here;" it is good to dwell where such a heavenly influence distils. Lord's day, April 27. Preached from Tit. ii. 14. "Who gave himself for us," &c. The word of God at this time was attended with some appearance of divine power upon the assembly; so that the attention and gravity of the audience was remarkable; and especially towards the conclusion of the exercise, divers persons were much affected. Administered the sacrament of the Lord's supper to twenty-three persons of the Indians, (the number of men and women being near equal,) divers others, to the number of five or six, being now absent at the Forks of Delaware, who would otherwise have communicated with us The ordinance was attended with great solemnity, and with a most desirable tenderness and affection. And it was remarkable, that in the season of the performance of the sacramental actions, especially in the distribution of the bread, they seemed to be affected in a most lively manner, as if "Christ had been" really "crucified before them." And the words of the institution, when repeated and enlarged upon in the season of the administration, seemed to meet with the same reception, to be entertained with the same full and firm belief and affectionate engagement of soul, as if the Lord Jesus Christ himself had been present, and had personally spoken to them. The affections of the communicants, although considerably raised, were notwithstanding agreeably regulated, and kept within proper bounds. So that there was a sweet, gentle, and affectionate melting, without any indecent or boisterous commotion of the passions. Having rested some time after the administration of the sacrament, (being extremely tired with the necessary prolixity of the work,) I walked from house to house, and conversed particularly with most of the communicants, and found they had been almost universally refreshed at the Lord's table "as with new wine." And never did I see such an appearance of Christian love among any people in all my life. It was so remarkable, that one might well have cried with an agreeable surprise, "Behold how they love one another!" I think there could be no greater tokens of mutual affection among the people of God in the early days of Christianity, than what now appeared here. The sight was so desirable, and so well becoming the gospel, that nothing less could be said of it, than that it was "the doing of the Lord," the genuine operations of him "who is love!" Toward night discoursed again on the forementioned Tit. ii. 14. and insisted on the immediate end and design of Christ's death, viz. "That he might redeem his people from all iniquity," &c. This appeared to be a season of divine power among us. The religious people were much refreshed, and seemed remarkably tender and affectionate, full of love, joy, peace, and desirous of being completely "redeemed from all iniquity;" so that some of them afterwards told me "they had never felt the like before." Convictions also appeared to be revived in many instances; and divers persons were awakened whom I had never observed under any religious impressions before. Such was the influence that attended our assembly, and so unspeakably desirable the frame of mind that many enjoyed in the divine service, that it seemed almost grievous to conclude the public worship. And the congregation when dismissed, although it was then almost dark, appeared loth to leave the place and employments that had been rendered so dear to them by the benefits enjoyed, while a blessed quickening influence distilled upon them. And upon the whole, I must say, I had great satisfaction relative to the administration of this ordinance in divers respects. I have abundant reason to think, that those who came to the Lord's table, had a good degree of doctrinal knowledge of the nature and design of the ordinance; and that they acted with understanding in what they did. In the preparatory services I found, I may justly say, uncommon freedom in opening to their understandings and capacities, the covenant of grace, and in showing them the nature of this ordinance as a seal of that covenant. Although many of them knew of no such thing as a seal before my coming among them, or at least of the use and design of it in the common affairs of life. They were likewise thoroughly sensible that it was no more than a seal or sign, and not the real body and blood of Christ. That it was designed for the refreshment and edification of the soul, and not for the feasting of the body. They were also acquainted with the end of the ordinance, that they were therein called to commemorate the dying love of Christ, &c. And this competency of doctrinal knowledge, together with their grave and decent attendance upon the ordinance, their affectionate melting under it, and the sweet and Christian frame of mind they discovered consequent upon it, gave me great satisfaction respecting my administration of it to them. And O what a sweet and blessed season was this! God himself, I am persuaded, was in the midst of his people, attending his own ordinances. And I doubt not but many in the conclusion of the day, could say, with their whole hearts, "Verily, a day thus spent in God's house, is better than a thousand elsewhere." There seemed to be but one heart among the pious people. The sweet union, harmony, and endearing love and tenderness subsisting among them, was, I thought, the most lively emblem of the heavenly world I had ever seen. April 28. Concluded the sacramental solemnity with a discourse upon John xiv. 15. "If ye love me, keep my commandments." At which time there appeared a very agreeable tenderness in the audience in general, but especially in the communicants. O how free, how engaged, and affectionate did these appear in the service of God! they seemed willing to have their "ears bored to the door-posts of God's house," and to be his servants for ever. Observing numbers in this excellent frame, and the assembly in general affected, and that by a divine influence, I thought it proper to improve this advantageous season, as Hezekiah did the desirable season of his great passover, (2 Chron. xxxi.) in order to promote the blessed reformation begun among them; and to engage those that appeared serious and religious to persevere therein; and accordingly proposed to them, that they should renewedly enter into covenant before God, that they would watch over themselves and one another, lest they should dishonour the name of Christ by falling into sinful and unbecoming practices. And especially that they would watch against the sin of drunkenness, (the sin that easily besets them,) and the temptations leading thereto; as well as the appearance of evil in that respect. They cheerfully complied with the proposal, and explicitly joined in that covenant; whereupon I proceeded in the most solemn manner I was capable of, to call God to witness respecting their sacred engagement; and minded them of the greatness of the guilt they would contract to themselves in the violation of it; as well as observed to them, that God would be a terrible witness against those who should presume to do so, in the "great and notable day of the Lord." It was a season of amazing solemnity! and a divine awe appeared upon the face of the whole assembly in this transaction! Affectionate sobs, sighs, and tears, were now frequent in the audience: and I doubt not but that many silent cries were then sent up to the fountain of grace, for supplies of grace sufficient for the fulfilment of these solemn engagements. Baptized six children this day. Lord's day, May 4. My people being now removed to their lands, mentioned in my Journal of March 24, where they were then, and have since been, making provision for a compact settlement, in order to their more convenient enjoyment of the gospel, and other means of instruction, as well as the comforts of life; I this day visited them, (being now obliged to board with an English family at some distance from them,) and preached to them in the forenoon from Mark iv. 5. "And some fell on stony ground," &c. Endeavoured to show them the reason there was to fear lest many promising appearances and hopeful beginnings in religion, might grove abortive, like the "seed dropped upon stony places." In the afternoon discoursed upon Rom. viii. 9. "Now if any man have not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his." I have reason to think this discourse was peculiarly seasonable, and that it had a good effect upon some of the hearers. Spent some hours afterwards in private conferences with my people, and laboured to regulate some things I apprehended amiss among some of them. May 5. Visited my people again, and took care of their worldly concerns, giving them directions relating to their business. I daily discover more and more of what importance it is like to be to their religious interests, that they become laborious and industrious, acquainted with the affairs of husbandry, and able, in a good measure, to raise the necessaries and comforts of life within themselves; for their present method of living greatly exposes them to temptations of various kinds. May 9. Preached from John v. 40. "And ye will not come to me," &c. in the open wilderness; the Indians having as yet no house for public worship in this place, nor scarce any shelters for themselves. Divine truths made considerable impressions upon the audience, and it was a season of solemnity, tenderness, and affection. Baptized one man this day, (the conjurer, murderer, &c. mentioned in my Journal of August 8, 1745, and February 1, 1746,) who appears to be such a remarkable instance of divine grace, that I cannot omit some brief account of him here. He lived near, and sometimes attended my meeting in, the Forks of Delaware for more than a year together; but was, like many others of them, extremely attached to strong drink, and seemed to be no ways reformed by the means I used with them for their instruction and conversion. At this time he likewise murdered a likely young Indian; which threw him into some kind of horror and desperation, so that he kept at a distance from me, and refused to hear me preach for several months together, till I had an opportunity of conversing freely with him, and giving him encouragement, that his sin might be forgiven for Christ's sake. After which he again attended my meeting some times. But that which was the worst of all his conduct, was his conjuration. He was one of them who are sometimes called powows among the Indians: and notwithstanding his frequent attendance upon my preaching, he still followed his old charms and juggling tricks, "giving out that himself was some great one, and to him they gave heed," supposing him to be possessed of a great power. So that when I have instructed them respecting the miracles wrought by Christ in healing the sick, &c. and mentioned them as evidences of his divine mission, and the truth of his doctrine, they have quickly observed the wonders of that kind which this man had performed by his magic charms. Whence they had a high opinion of him, and his superstitious notions, which seemed to be a fatal obstruction to some of them in regard of their receiving the gospel. And I have often thought it would be a great favour to the design of gospellizing these Indians, if God would take that wretch out of the world; for I had scarce any hope of his ever coming to good. But God, "whose thoughts are not as man's thoughts," has been pleased to take a much more desirable method with him; a method agreeable to his own merciful nature, and, I trust, advantageous to his own interest among the Indians, as well as effectual to the salvation of this poor soul. To God be the glory of it. The first genuine concern for his soul that ever appeared in him, was excited by seeing my interpreter and his wife baptized at the Forks of Delaware, July 21, 1745. Which so prevailed upon him, that with the invitation of an Indian, who was a friend to Christianity, he followed me down to Crossweeksung in the beginning of August following, in order to hear me preach, and there continued for several weeks in the season of the most remarkable and powerful awakening among the Indians; at which time he was more effectually awakened, and brought under great concern for his soul. And then, he says, upon his "feeling the word of God in his heart," as he expresses it, his spirit of conjuration left him entirely; that he had no more power of that nature since, than any other man living. And declares that he does not now so much as know how he used to charm and conjure; and that he could not do any thing of that nature if he was never so desirous of it. He continued under convictions of his sinful and perishing state, and a considerable degree of concern for his soul, all the fall and former part of the winter past, but was not so deeply exercised till some time in January; and then the word of God took such hold upon him, that he was brought into great distress, and knew not what to do, nor where to turn himself. He then told me, that when he used to hear me preach from time to time in the fall of the year, my preaching pricked his heart and made him very uneasy, but did not bring him to so great distress, because he still hoped he could do something for his own relief: but now, he said, I drove him up into "such a sharp corner," that he had no way to turn, and could not avoid being in distress. He continued constantly under the heavy burden and pressure of a wounded spirit, till at length he was brought into the acute anguish and utmost agony of soul, mentioned in my Journal of Feb. 1, which continued that night, and part of the next day. After this, he was brought to the utmost calmness and composure of mind, his trembling and heavy burden was removed, and he appeared perfectly sedate; although he had, to his apprehensions, scarce any hope of salvation. I observed him to appear remarkably composed, and thereupon asked him how he did? He replied, "It is done, it is done, it is all done now." I asked him what he meant? He answered, "I can never do any more to save myself; it is all done for ever, I can do no more." I queried with him, whether he could not do a little more rather than to go to hell. He replied, "My heart is dead, I can never help myself." I asked him, what he thought would become of him then? He answered, "I must go to hell." I asked him if he thought it was right that God should send him to hell? He replied, "O it is right. The devil has been in me ever since I was born." I asked him if he felt this when he was in such great distress the evening before? He answered, "No, I did not then think it was right. I thought God would send me to hell, and that I was then dropping into it; but my heart quarrelled with God, and would not say it was right he should send me there. But now I know it is right, for I have always served the devil, and my heart has no goodness in it now, but is as bad as ever it was," &c. I thought I had scarce ever seen any person more effectually brought off from a dependence upon his own contrivances and endeavours for salvation, or more apparently to lie at the foot of sovereign mercy, than this man now did under these views of things. In this frame of mind he continued for several days, passing sentence of condemnation upon himself, and constantly owning, that it would be right he should be damned, and that he expected this would be his portion for the greatness of his sins. And yet it was plain he had a secret hope of mercy, though imperceptible to himself, which kept him not only from despair, but from any pressing distress: so that instead of being sad and dejected, his very countenance appeared pleasant and agreeable. While he was in this frame, he sundry times asked me "When I would preach again?" and seemed desirous to hear the word of God every day. I asked him why he wanted to hear me preach, seeing "his heart was dead, and all was done?" That "he could never help himself, and expected that he must go to hell?" He replied, "I love to hear you speak about Christ for all." I added, But what good will that do you, if you must go to hell at last? using now his own language with him; having before, from time to time, laboured in the best manner I could, to represent to him the excellency of Christ, his all-sufficiency and willingness to save lost sinners, and persons just in his case; although to no purpose, as to yielding him any special comfort. He answered, "I would have others come to Christ, if I must go to hell myself." It was remarkable, that he seemed to have a great love to the people of God, and nothing affected him so much as the thoughts of being separated from them. This seemed to be a very dreadful part of the hell to which he thought himself doomed. It was likewise remarkable, that in this season he was most diligent in the use of all means for his soul's salvation; although he had the clearest view of the insufficiency of means to afford him help. And would frequently say, "That all he did signified nothing at all;" and yet was never more constant in doing, attending secret and family prayer daily, and surprisingly diligent and attentive in hearing the word of God: so that he neither despaired of mercy, nor yet presumed to hope upon his own doings, but used means because appointed of God in order to salvation; and because he would wait upon God in his own way. After he had continued in this frame of mind more than a week, while I was discoursing publicly he seemed to have a lively soul-refreshing view of the excellency of Christ, and the way of salvation by him, which melted him into tears, and filled him with admiration, comfort, satisfaction, and praise to God. Since then he has appeared to be an humble, devout, and affectionate Christian; serious and exemplary in his conversation and behaviour, frequently complaining of his barrenness, his want of spiritual warmth, life, and activity, and yet frequently favoured with quickening and refreshing influences. And in all respects, so far as I am capable to judge, he bears the marks and characters of one "created anew in Christ Jesus to good works." His zeal for the cause of God was pleasing to me when he was with me at the Forks of Delaware in February last. There being an old Indian at the place where I preached, who threatened to bewitch me and my religious people who accompanied me there; this man presently challenged him to do his worst, telling him that himself had been as great a conjurer as he, and that notwithstanding, as soon as he felt that word in his heart which these people loved, (meaning the word of God,) his power of conjuring immediately left him. And so it would you, said he, if you did but once feel it in your heart; and you have no power to hurt them, nor so much as to touch one of them, &c. So that I may conclude my account of him by observing, (in allusion to what was said of St. Paul,) that he now zealously defends, and practically "preaches, the faith which he once destroyed," or at least was instrumental of obstructing. May God have the glory of the amazing change he has wrought in him! Lord's day, May 18. Discoursed both parts of the day from Rev. iii. 20. "Behold, I stand at the door," &c. There appeared some affectionate melting towards the conclusion of the forenoon exercise, and one or two instances of fresh awakening. In the intermission of public worship, I took occasion to discourse to numbers in a more private way, on the kindness and patience of the blessed Redeemer in standing and knocking, in continuing his gracious calls to sinners, who had long neglected and abused his grace; which seemed to take some effect upon sundry. In the afternoon divine truths were attended with solemnity, and with some tears, although there was not that powerful, awakening, and quickening influence, which in times past has been common in our assemblies. The appearance of the audience under divine truths was comparatively discouraging: and I was ready to fear that God was about to withdraw the blessed influence of his Spirit from us. May 19. Visited and preached to my people from Acts xx. 18, 19. "And when they were come to him, he said unto them, Ye know, from the first day," &c. and endeavoured to rectify their notions about religious affections; showing them, on the one hand, the desirableness of religious affection, tenderness, and fervent engagement in the worship and service of God, when such affection flows from a true spiritual discovery of divine glories, from a justly affecting sense of the transcendent excellency and perfections of the blessed God, a view of the glory and loveliness of the great Redeemer: and that such views of divine things will naturally excite us to "serve the Lord with many tears," with much affection and fervency, and yet" with all humility of mind:" And, on the other hand, observing the sinfulness of seeking after high affections immediately, and for their own sakes, that is, of making them the object of our eye and heart, is nextly and principally set upon, when the glory of God ought to be so. Showed them that if the heart be directly and chiefly fixed on God, and the soul engaged to glorify him, some degree of religious affection will be the effect and attendant of it. But to seek after affection directly and chiefly, to have the heart principally set upon that, is to place it in the room of God and his glory. If it be sought, that others may take notice and admire us for our spirituality and forwardness in religion, it is then abominable pride: if for the sake of feeling the pleasure of being affected, it is then idolatry and self-gratification. Laboured also to expose the disagreeableness of those affections that are sometimes wrought up in persons by the power of fancy and their own attempts for that purpose, while I still endeavoured to recommend to them that religious affection, fervency, and devotion which ought to attend all our religious exercises, and without which religion will be but an empty name and lifeless carcass. This appeared to be a seasonable discourse, and proved very satisfactory to some of the religious people, who before were exercised with some difficulties relating to this point. Afterwards took care of, and gave my people directions about, their worldly affairs. May 24. Visited the Indians, and took care of their secular business, which they are not able to manage themselves, without the constant care and advice of others. Afterwards discoursed to some particularly about their spiritual concerns. Lord's day, May 25. Discoursed both parts of the day from John xii. 44-48. "Jesus cried and said, he that believeth on me," &c. There was some degree of divine power attending the word of God. Sundry wept and appeared considerably affected: and one who had long been under spiritual trouble, now obtained clearness and comfort, and appeared to "rejoice in God her Saviour." It was a day of grace and divine goodness; a day wherein something I trust was done for the cause of God among my people: a season of sweetness and comfort to divers of the religious people, although there was not that powerful influence upon the congregation which was common some months ago. Lord's day, June 1, 1746. Preached both forenoon and afternoon from Matt. xi. 27, 28. The presence of God seemed to be in the assembly, and numbers were considerably melted and affected under divine truths. There was a desirable appearance in the congregation in general, an earnest attention and agreeable tenderness, and it seemed as if God designed to visit us with further showers of divine grace. I then baptized ten persons, five adults and five children, and was not a little refreshed with this "addition made to the church of such as, I hope, shall be saved." I have reason to hope that God has lately (at and since our celebration of the Lord's supper) brought home to himself sundry souls who had long been under spiritual trouble and concern; although there have been few instances of persons lately awakened out of a state of security. And those comforted of late seem to be brought in in a more silent way, neither their concern nor consolation being so powerful and remarkable as appeared among those more suddenly wrought upon in the beginning of this work of grace. June 6. Discoursed to my people from part of Isa. liii. The divine presence appeared to be amongst us in some measure. Divers persons were much melted and refreshed; and one man in particular, who had long been under concern for his soul, was now brought to see and feel, in a very lively manner, the impossibility of his doing any thing to help himself, or to bring him into the favour of God, by his tears, prayers, and other religious performances; and found himself undone as to any power or goodness of his own, and that there was no way left him, but to leave himself with God to be disposed of as he pleased. June 7. Being desired by the Rev. Mr. William Tennent to be his assistant in the administration of the Lord's supper; my people also being invited to attend the sacramental solemnity, they cheerfully embraced the opportunity, and this day attended the preparatory services with me. Lord's day, June 8. Most of my people who had been communicants at the Lord's table before, being present at this sacramental occasion, communicated with others in this holy ordinance at the desire, and I trust, to the satisfaction and comfort, of numbers of God's people who had longed to see this day, and whose hearts had rejoiced in this work of grace among the Indians, which prepared the way for what appeared so agreeable at this time. Those of my people who communicated seemed in general agreeably affected at the Lord's table, and some of them considerably melted with the love of Christ; although they were not so remarkably refreshed and feasted at this time as when I administered this ordinance to them in our own congregation only. Some of the by-standers were affected with seeing these who had been "aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers to the covenant of promise," who of all men had lived "without hope, and without God in the world," now brought near to God as his professing people, and sealing covenant with him, by a solemn and devout attendance upon this sacred ordinance. And as numbers of God's people were refreshed with this sight, and thereby excited to bless God for the enlargement of his kingdom in the world, so some others, I was told, were awakened by it, apprehending the danger they were in of being themselves finally cast out, while they saw others, "from the east and west," preparing, and hopefully prepared in some good measure, to "sit down in the kingdom of God." At this season others of my people also, who were not communicants, were considerably affected; convictions were revived in divers instances; and one (the man particularly mentioned in my Journal of the 6th instant) obtained comfort and satisfaction; and has since given me such an account of his spiritual exercises, and the manner in which he obtained relief, as appears very hopeful. It seems as if he "who commanded the light to shine out of darkness," had now "shined in his heart, and given him the light of," and experimental "knowledge of, the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ." June 3. A considerable number of my people met together early in the day in a retired place in the woods, and prayed, sang, and conversed of divine things; and were seen by some religious persons of the white people, to be affected and engaged, and divers of them in tears, in these religious exercises. Afterwards they attended the concluding exercises of the sacramental solemnity, and then returned home, divers of them "rejoicing for all the goodness of God" they had seen and felt; so that this appeared to be a profitable, as well as a comfortable season, to numbers of my congregation. And their being present at this occasion, and a number of them communicating at the Lord's table with others of God's people, was, I trust, for the honour of God and the interest of religion in these parts, as numbers, I have reason to think, were quickened by means of it. June 13. Preached to my people upon the new creature, from 2 Cor. v. 17. "If any man be in Christ," &c. The presence of God appeared to be in the assembly. It was a sweet and agreeable meeting, wherein the people of God were refreshed and strengthened, beholding their faces in the glass of God's word, and finding in themselves the marks and lineaments of the new creature. Some sinners under concern were also renewedly affected, and afresh engaged for the securing of their eternal interests. Baptized five persons at this time, three adults and two children. One of these was the very aged woman, of whose exercise I gave an account in my Journal of Dec. 26. She now gave me a very punctual, rational, and satisfactory account of the remarkable change she experienced some months after the beginning of her concern, which, I must say, appeared to be the genuine operations of the divine Spirit, so far as I am capable of judging. And although she was become so childish through old age, that I could do nothing in a way of questioning with her, nor scarce make her understand any that I asked her; yet when I let her alone to go on with her own story, she could give a very distinct and particular relation of the many and various exercises of soul she had experienced; so deep were the impressions left upon her mind by that influence, and that exercise she had been under! And I have great reason to hope, she is born anew in her old age, she being, I presume, upwards of fourscore. I had good hopes of the other adults, and trust they are such as God will own "in the day when he makes up his jewels." June 19. Visited my people with two of the reverend correspondents. Spent some time in conversation with some of them upon spiritual things; and took some care of their worldly concerns. This day makes up a complete year from the first time of my preaching to these Indians in New Jersey. What amazing things has God wrought in this space of time for these poor people! What a surprising change appears in their tempers and behaviour! How are morose and savage pagans in this short space of time transformed into agreeable, affectionate, and humble Christians! and their drunken and pagan howlings turned into devout and fervent prayers and praises to God! They "who were sometimes darkness, are now become light in the Lord. May they walk as children of the light, and of the day. And now to him that is of power to stablish them according to the gospel, and the preaching of Christ To God only wise, be glory, through Jesus Christ, for ever and ever! Amen." __________________________________________________________________ [420] In proper English thus, "I tried and tried to save myself, till at last my strength was all gone, and I could not stir any further. Then at last I was forced to let Jesus Christ alone send me to hell if he pleased." [421] In plain English thus, "I could not help it. My heart would be wicked for all what I could do. I could not make it good." [422] "By and by my heart was exceeding glad. My heart was glad that Jesus Christ would do with me what he pleased. Then I thought my heart would be glad although Christ should send me to hell. I did not care where he put me, I should love him for all; i.e. do what he would with me." [423] The man particularly mentioned in my Journal of January 19. [424] There being at this time a terrible clamour raised against the Indians in various places in the country, and insinuations as though I was training them up to cut people's throats. Numbers wishing to have them banished out of these parts, and some giving out great words, in order to fright and deter them from settling upon the best and most convenient track of their own lands, threatening to molest and trouble them in the law, pretending a claim to these lands themselves, although never purchased of the Indians. __________________________________________________________________ [418] In the observations intermixed with the diary, after the date of June 18th and Sept. 16th, 1747, it appears that some gentlemen from Boston took this affair into their charitable consideration; partly in consequence of this hint, and more especially from Mr. Brainerd's application by letter. -W. __________________________________________________________________ FIRST APPENDIX TO MR. BRAINERD'S JOURNAL: CONTAINING HIS GENERAL REMARKS ON THE DOCTRINES PREACHED, THEIR EXTRAORDINARY EFFECTS, &c. __________________________________________________________________ SECT. I. The doctrine preached to the Indians. Before I conclude the present Journal, I would make a few general remarks upon what to me appears worthy of notice, relating to the continued work of grace among my people. And, first, I cannot but take notice, that I have, in the general, ever since my first coming among these Indians in New Jersey, been favoured with that assistance, which to me is uncommon, in preaching Christ crucified, and making him the centre and mark to which all my discourses among them were directed. It was the principal scope and drift of all my discourses to this people, for several months together, (after having taught them something of the being and perfections of God, his creation of man in a state of rectitude and happiness, and the obligations mankind were thence under to love and honour him,) to lead them into an acquaintance with their deplorable state by nature, as fallen creatures: their inability to extricate and deliver themselves from it: the utter insufficiency of any external reformations and amendments of life, or of any religious performances, they were capable of, while in this state, to bring them into the favour of God, and interest them in his eternal mercy.--And thence to show them their absolute need of Christ to redeem and save them from the misery of their fallen state. To open his all-sufficiency and willingness to save the chief of sinners. The freeness and riches of divine grace, proposed "without money, and without price," to all that will accept the offer. And thereupon to press them without delay, to betake themselves to him, under a sense of their misery and undone state, for relief and everlasting salvation. And to show them the abundant encouragement the gospel proposes to needy, perishing, and helpless sinners, in order to engage them so to do. These things I repeatedly and largely insisted upon from time to time. And I have oftentimes remarked with admiration, that whatever subject I have been treating upon, after having spent time sufficient to explain and illustrate the truths contained therein, I have been naturally and easily led to Christ as the substance of every subject. If I treated on the being and glorious perfections of God, I was thence naturally led to discourse of Christ as the only "way to the Father." If I attempted to open the deplorable misery of our fallen state, it was natural from thence to show the necessity of Christ to undertake for us, to atone for our sins, and to redeem us from the power of them. If I taught the commands of God, and showed our violation of them, this brought me in the most easy and natural way, to speak of and recommend the Lord Jesus Christ, as one who had "magnified the law" we had broken, and who was "become the end of it for righteousness, to every one that believes." And never did I find so much freedom and assistance in making all the various lines of my discourses meet together, and centre in Christ, as I have frequently done among these Indians. Sometimes when I have had thoughts of offering but a few words upon some particular subject, and saw no occasion, nor indeed much room, for any considerable enlargement, there has at unawares appeared such a fountain of gospel-grace shining forth in, or naturally resulting from, a just explication of it, and Christ has seemed in such a manner to be pointed out as the substance of what I was considering and explaining, that I have been drawn in a way not only easy and natural, proper and pertinent, but almost unavoidable, to discourse of him, either in regard of his undertaking, incarnation, satisfaction, admirable fitness for the work of man's redemption, or the infinite need that sinners stand in of an interest in him; which has opened the way for a continual strain of gospel-invitation to perishing souls, to come empty and naked, weary and heavy laden, and cast themselves upon them. And as I have been remarkably influenced and assisted to dwell upon the Lord Jesus Christ, and the way of salvation by him, in the general current of my discourses here, and have been at times surprisingly furnished with pertinent matter relating to him, and the design of his incarnation; so I have been no less assisted oftentimes in regard of an advantageous manner of opening the mysteries of divine grace, and representing the infinite excellencies and "unsearchable riches of Christ," as well as of recommending him to the acceptance of perishing sinners. I have frequently been enabled to represent the divine glory, the infinite preciousness and transcendent loveliness of the great Redeemer; the suitableness of his person and purchase to supply the wants, and answer the utmost desires, of immortal souls: to open the infinite riches of his grace, and the wonderful encouragement proposed in the gospel to unworthy, helpless sinners: to call, invite, and beseech them to come and give up themselves to him, and be reconciled to God through him: to expostulate with them respecting their neglect of one so infinitely lovely, and freely offered: and this in such a manner, with such freedom, pertinency, pathos, and application to the conscience, as, I am sure, I never could have made myself master of by the most assiduous application of mind. And frequently at such seasons I have been surprisingly helped in adapting my discourses to the capacities of my people, and bringing them down into such easy and familiar methods of expression, as has rendered them intelligible even to pagans. I do not mention these things as a recommendation of my own performances; for I am sure I found, from time to time, that I had no skill or wisdom for my great work; and knew not how "to choose out acceptable words" proper to address poor benighted pagans with. But thus God was pleased to help me, "not to know any thing among them, save Jesus Christ and him crucified." Thus I was enabled to show them their misery without him, and to represent his complete fitness to redeem and save them. And this was the preaching God made use of for the awakening of sinners, and the propagation of this "work of grace among the Indians." And it was remarkable, from time to time, that when I was favoured with any special freedom, in discoursing of the "ability and willingness of Christ to save sinners," and "the need they stood in of such a Saviour," there was then the greatest appearance of divine power in awakening numbers of secure souls, promoting convictions begun, and comforting the distressed. I have sometimes formerly, in reading the apostle's discourse to Cornelius, (Acts x..) wondered to see him so quickly introduce the Lord Jesus Christ into his sermon, and so entirely dwell upon him through the whole of it, observing him in this point very widely to differ from many of our modern preachers: but latterly this has not seemed strange, since Christ has appeared to be the substance of the gospel, and the centre in which the several lines of divine revelation meet. Although I am still sensible there are many things necessary to be spoken to persons under pagan darkness, in order to make way for a proper introduction of the name of Christ, and his undertaking in behalf of fallen man. __________________________________________________________________ SECT. II. Morality, sobriety, and external duties, promoted by preaching Christ crucified. It is worthy of remark, secondly, that numbers of these people are brought to a strict compliance with the rules of morality and sobriety, and to a conscientious performance of the external duties of Christianity, by the internal power and influence of divine truths the peculiar doctrine of grace upon their minds; without their having these moral duties frequently repeated and inculcated upon them, and the contrary vices particularly exposed and spoken against. What has been the general strain and drift of my preaching among these Indians; what were the truths I principally insisted upon, and how I was influenced and enabled to dwell from time to time upon the peculiar doctrine of grace; I have already observed in the preceding remarks. Those doctrine, which had the most direct tendency to humble the fallen creature, to show him the misery of his natural state, to bring him down to the foot of sovereign mercy, and to exalt the great Redeemer discover his transcendent excellency and infinite preciousness, and so to recommend him to the sinner's acceptance were the subject-matter of what was delivered in public and private to them, and from time to time repeated and inculcated upon them. And God was pleased to give these divine truths such a powerful influence upon the minds of these people, and so to bless them for the effectual awakening of numbers of them, that their lives were quickly reformed, without my insisting upon the precepts of morality, and spending time in repeated harangues upon external duties. There was indeed no room for any kind of discourses but those that respected the essentials of religion, and the experimental knowledge of divine things, whilst there were so many inquiring daily not how they should regulate their external conduct, for that persons, who are honestly disposed to comply with duty, when known, may, in ordinary cases, be easily satisfied about, but how they should escape from the wrath they feared, and felt a desert of, obtain an effectual change of heart, get an interest in Christ, and come to the enjoyment of eternal blessedness? So that my great work still was to lead them into a further view of their utter undoneness in themselves, the total depravity and corruption of their hearts; that there was no manner of goodness in them; no good dispositions nor desires; no love to God, nor delight in his commands: but, on the contrary, hatred, enmity, and all manner of wickedness reigning in them: and at the same time to open to them the glorious and complete remedy provided in Christ for helpless, perishing sinners, and offered freely to those who have no goodness of their own, no "works of righteousness which they have done," to recommend them to God. This was the continued strain of my preaching; this my great concern and constant endeavour, so to enlighten the mind, as thereby duly to affect the heart, and, as far as possible, give persons a sense and feeling of these precious and important doctrine of grace, at least, so far as means might conduce to it. And these were the doctrine, this the method of preaching, which were blessed of God for the awakening, and, I trust, the saving conversion of numbers of souls, and which were made the means of producing a remarkable reformation among the hearers in general. When these truths were felt at heart, there was now no vice unreformed, no external duty neglected. Drunkenness, the darling vice, was broken off from, and scarce an instance of it known among my hearers for months together. The abusive practice of husbands and wives in putting away each other, and taking others in their stead, was quickly reformed; so that there are three or four couple who have voluntarily dismissed those they had wrongfully taken, and now live together again in love and peace. The same might be said of all other vicious practices. The reformation was general; and all springing from the internal influence of divine truths upon their hearts; and not from any external restraints, or because they had heard these vices particularly exposed, and repeatedly spoken against. Some of them I never so much as mentioned; particularly, that of the parting of men and their wives, till some, having their conscience awakened by God's word, came, and of their own accord confessed themselves guilty in that respect. And when I did at any time mention their wicked practices, and the sins they were guilty of contrary to the light of nature, it was not with design, nor indeed with any hope, of working an effectual reformation in their external manners by this means, for I knew, that while the tree remained corrupt, the fruit would naturally be so; but with design to lead them, by observing the wickedness of their lives, to a view of the corruption of their hearts, and so to convince them of the necessity of a renovation of nature, and to excite them with utmost diligence to seek after that great change, which, if once obtained, I was sensible, would of course produce a reformation of external manners in every respect. And as all vice was reformed upon their feeling the power of these truths upon their hearts, so the external duties of Christianity were complied with, and conscientiously performed, from the same internal influence; family prayer set up, and constantly maintained, unless among some few more lately come, who had felt little of this divine influence. This duty was constantly performed, even in some families where there were none but females, and scarce a prayerless person to be found among near a hundred of them. The Lord's day was seriously and religiously observed, and care taken by parents to keep their children orderly upon that sacred day, &c. And this, not because I had driven them to the performance of these duties by a frequent inculcating of them, but because they had felt the power of God's word upon their hearts, were made sensible of their sin and misery, and thence could not but pray, and comply with every thing they knew was duty, from what they felt within themselves. When their hearts were touched with a sense of their eternal concerns, they could pray with great freedom, as well as fervency, without being at the trouble first to learn set forms for that purpose. And some of them who were suddenly awakened at their first coming among us, were brought to pray and cry for mercy with utmost importunity, without ever being instructed in the duty of prayer, or so much as once directed to a performance of it. The happy effects of these peculiar doctrine of grace, which I have so much insisted upon with this people, plainly discover, even to demonstration, that instead of their opening a door to licentiousness, as many vainly imagine, and slanderously insinuate, they have a direct contrary tendency: so that a close application, a sense and feeling of them, will have the most powerful influence toward the renovation, and effectual reformation, both of heart and life. And happy experience, as well as the word of God, and the example of Christ and his apostles, has taught me, that the very method of preaching which is best suited to awaken in mankind a sense and lively apprehension of their depravity and misery in a fallen state, to excite them earnestly to seek after a change of heart, and to fly for refuge to free and sovereign grace in Christ, as the only hope set before them, is like to be most successful toward the reformation of their external conduct. I have found that close addresses, and solemn applications of divine truth to the conscience, tend directly to strike death to the root of all vice; while smooth and plausible harangues upon moral virtues and external duties, at best are like to do no more than lop off the branches of corruption, while the root of all vice remains still untouched. A view of the blessed effect of honest endeavours to bring home divine truths to the conscience, and duly to affect the heart with them, has often minded me of those words of our Lord, (which I have thought might be a proper exhortation for ministers in respect of their treating with others, as well as for persons in general with regard to themselves,) "Cleanse first the inside of the cup and platter, that the outside may be clean also." Cleanse, says he, the inside, that the outside may be clean. As if he had said, The only effectual way to have the outside clean, is to begin with what is within; and if the fountain be purified, the streams will naturally be pure. And most certain it is, if we can awaken in sinners a lively sense of their inward pollution and depravity their need of a change of heart and so engage them to seek after inward cleansing, their external defilement will naturally be cleansed, their vicious ways of course be reformed, and their conversation and behaviour become regular. Now, although I cannot pretend that the reformation among my people does, in every instance, spring from a saving change of heart; yet I may truly say, it flows from some heart-affecting view and sense of divine truths that all have had in a greater or less degree. I do not intend, by what I have observed here, to represent the preaching of morality, and pressing persons to the external performance of duty, to be altogether unnecessary and useless at any time; and especially at times when there is less of divine power attending the means of grace; when, for want of internal influences, there is need of external restraints. It is doubtless among the things that "ought to be done," while "others are not to be left undone." But what I principally designed by this remark, was to discover plain matter of fact, viz. That the reformation, the sobriety, and external compliance with the rules and duties of Christianity, appearing among my people, are not the effect of any mere doctrinal instruction, or merely rational view of the beauty of morality, but from the internal power and influence that divine truths (the soul-humbling doctrine of grace) have had upon their hearts. __________________________________________________________________ SECT. III. Continuance, renewal, and quickness of the work. IT is remarkable, thirdly, that God has so continued and renewed showers of his grace here: so quickly set up his visible kingdom among these people; and so smiled upon them in relation to their acquirement of knowledge, both divine and human. It is now near a year since the beginning of this gracious outpouring of the divine Spirit among them: and although it has often seemed to decline and abate for some short space of time as may be observed by several passages of my Journal, where I have endeavoured to note things just as they appeared to me yet the shower has seemed to be renewed, and the work of grace revived again. So that a divine influence seems still apparently to attend the means of grace, in a greater or less degree, in most of our meetings for religious exercises; whereby religious persons are refreshed, strengthened, and established, convictions revived and promoted in many instances, and some few persons newly awakened from time to time. Although it must be acknowledged, that for some time past, there has, in the general, appeared a more manifest decline of this work, and the divine Spirit has seemed, in a considerable measure, withdrawn, especially in regard of his awakening influence so that the strangers who come latterly, are not seized with concern as formerly; and some few who have been much affected with divine truths in time past, now appear less concerned. Yet, blessed be God, there is still an appearance of divine power and grace, a desirable degree of tenderness, religious affection, and devotion in our assemblies. And as God has continued and renewed the showers of his grace among this people for some time; so he has with uncommon quickness set up his visible kingdom, and gathered himself a church in the midst of them. I have now baptized, since the conclusion of my last Journal, (or the First Part,) thirty persons, fifteen adults and fifteen children. Which added to the number there mentioned, makes seventy-seven persons; whereof thirty-eight are adults, and thirty-nine children; and all within the space of eleven months past. And it must be noted, that I have baptized no adults, but such as appeared to have a work of special grace wrought in their hearts; I mean such who have had the experience not only of the awakening and humbling, but, in a judgment of charity, of the renewing and comforting, influences of the divine Spirit. There are many others under solemn concern for their souls, who (I apprehend) are persons of sufficient knowledge, and visible seriousness, at present, to render them proper subjects of the ordinance of baptism. Yet, since they give no comfortable evidences of having as yet passed a saving change, but only appear under convictions of their sin and misery, and having no principle of spiritual life wrought in them, they are liable to lose the impressions of religion they are now under. Considering also, the great propensity there is in this people naturally to abuse themselves with strong drink, and fearing lest some, who at present appear serious and concerned for their souls, might lose their concern, and return to this sin, and so, if baptized, prove a scandal to their profession, I have therefore thought proper hitherto to omit the baptism of any but such who give some hopeful evidences of a saving change, although I do not pretend to determine positively respecting the states of any. I likewise administered the Lord's supper to a number of persons, who I have abundant reason to think (as I elsewhere observed) were proper subjects of that ordinance, within the space of ten months and ten days after my first coming among these Indians in New Jersey. And from the time that, I am informed, some of them were attending an idolatrous feast and sacrifice in honour to devils, to the time they sat down at the Lord's table, (I trust,) to the honour of God, was not more than a full year. Surely Christ's little flock here, so suddenly gathered from among pagans, may justly say, in the language of the church of old, "The Lord hath done great things for us, whereof we are glad." Much of the goodness of God has also appeared in relation to their acquirement of knowledge, both in religion and in the affairs of common life. There has been a wonderful thirst after Christian knowledge prevailing among them in general, and an eager desire of being instructed in christian doctrine and manners. This has prompted them to ask many pertinent as well as important questions; the answers to which have tended much to enlighten their minds, and promote their knowledge in divine things. Many of the doctrine I have delivered, they have queried with me about, in order to gain further light and insight into them; particularly the doctrine of predestination: and have from time to time manifested a good understanding of them, by their answers to the questions proposed to them in my catechetical lectures. They have likewise queried with me, respecting a proper method as well as proper matter of prayer, and expressions suitable to be used in that religious exercise; and have taken pains in order to the performance of this duty with understanding. They have likewise taken pains, and appeared remarkably apt, in learning to sing psalm tunes, and are now able to sing with a good degree of decency in the worship of God. They have also acquired a considerable degree of useful knowledge in the affairs of common life: so that they now appear like rational creatures, fit for human society, free of that savage roughness and brutish stupidity, which rendered them very disagreeable in their pagan state. They seem ambitious of a thorough acquaintance with the English language, and for that end frequently speak it among themselves; and many of them have made good proficiency in their acquirement of it, since my coming among them; so that most of them can understand a considerable part, and some the substance of my discourses, without an interpreter, (being used to my low and vulgar methods of expression,) though they could not well understand other ministers. And as they are desirous of instruction, and surprisingly apt in the reception of it, so Divine Providence has smiled upon them in regard of proper means in order to it. The attempts made for the procurement of a school among them have been succeeded, and a kind Providence has sent them a schoolmaster of whom I may justly say, I know of "no man like minded, who will naturally care for their state." He has generally thirty or thirty-five children in his school: and when he kept an evening school (as he did while the length of the evenings would admit of it) he had fifteen or twenty people, married and single. The children learn with surprising readiness; so that their master tells me, he never had an English school that learned, in general, comparably so fast. There were not above two in thirty, although some of them were very small, but what learned to know all the letters in the alphabet distinctly, within three days after his entrance upon his business; and divers in that space of time learned to spell considerably: and some of them, since the beginning of February last, [425] (at which time the school was set up,) have learned so much, that they are able to read in a Psalter or Testament, without spelling. They are instructed twice a week in the Reverend Assembly's Shorter Catechism, viz. on Wednesday and Saturday. Some of them, since the latter end of February, (at which time they began,) have learned to say it pretty distinctly by heart considerably more than half through; and mast of them have made some proficiency in it. They are likewise instructed in the duty of secret prayer, and most of them constantly attend it night and morning, and are very careful to inform their master if they apprehend any of their little school-mates neglect that religious exercise. __________________________________________________________________ [425] In less than five months, viz. from Feb. 1, to June 19. __________________________________________________________________ SECT. IV. But little appearance of false religion. It is worthy to be noted, fourthly, to the praise of sovereign grace, that amidst so great a work of conviction so much concern and religious affection there has been no prevalency, nor indeed any considerable appearance, of false religion, if I may so term it, or heats of imagination, intemperate zeal, and spiritual pride; which corrupt mixtures too often attend the revival and powerful propagation of religion; and that there have been so very few instances of irregular and scandalous behaviour among those who have appeared serious. I may justly repeat what I observed in a remark at the conclusion of my last Journal, [426] viz. That there has been no appearance of "bodily agonies, convulsions, frightful screaming, swoonings," and the like: and may now further add, that there has been no prevalency of visions, trances, and imaginations of any kind; although there has been some appearance of something of that nature since the conclusion of that Journal. An instance of which I have given an account of in my Journal of December 26. But this work of grace has, in the main, been carried on with a surprising degree of purity, and freedom from trash and corrupt mixture. The religious concern that persons have been under, has generally been rational and just; arising from a sense of their sins, and exposedness to the divine displeasure on the account of them; as well as their utter inability to deliver themselves from the misery they felt and feared. And if there has been, in any instances, an appearance of irrational concern and perturbation of mind, when the subjects of it knew not why, yet there has been no prevalency of any such thing; and indeed I scarce know of any instance of that nature at all. And it is very remarkable, that although the concern of many persons under convictions of their perishing state has been very great and pressing, yet I have never seen any thing like desperation attending it in any one instance. They have had the most lively sense of their undoneness in themselves; have been brought to give up all hopes of deliverance from themselves; and their spiritual exercises leading hereto, have been attended with great distress and anguish of soul: and yet in the seasons of the greatest extremity, there has been no appearance of despair in any of them, nothing that has discouraged, or in any wise hindered, them from the most diligent use of all proper means for their conversion and salvation; whence it is apparent, there is not that danger of persons being driven into despair under spiritual trouble, (unless in cases of deep and habitual melancholy,) that the world in general is ready to imagine. The comfort that persons have obtained after their distresses, has likewise in general appeared solid, well grounded, and scriptural; arising from a spiritual and supernatural illumination of mind, a view of divine things in a measure as they are, a complacency of soul in the divine perfections, and a peculiar satisfaction in the way of salvation by free sovereign grace in the great Redeemer. Their joys have seemed to rise from a variety of views and considerations of divine things, although for substance the same. Some, who under conviction seemed to have the hardest struggles and heart-risings against divine sovereignty, have seemed, at the first dawn of their comfort, to rejoice in a peculiar manner in that divine perfection, have been delighted to think that themselves, and all things else, were in the hand of God, and that he would dispose of them "just as he pleased." Others, who just before their reception of comfort, have been remarkably oppressed with a sense of their undoneness and poverty, who have seen themselves, as it were, falling down into remediless perdition, have been at first more peculiarly delighted with a view of the freeness and riches of divine grace, and the offer of salvation made to perishing sinners "without money, and without price." Some have at first appeared to rejoice especially in the wisdom of God, discovered in the way of salvation by Christ; it then appearing to them "a new and living way," a way they had never thought, nor had any just conception of, until opened to them by the special influence of the divine Spirit. And some of them, upon a lively spiritual view of this way of salvation, have wondered at their past folly in seeking salvation other ways, and have admired that they never saw this way of salvation before, which now appeared so plain and easy, as well as excellent to them. Others again have had a more general view of the beauty and excellency of Christ, and have had their souls delighted with an apprehension of his divine glory, as unspeakably exceeding all they had ever conceived of before; yet without singling out any one of the divine perfections in particular; so that although their comforts have seemed to arise from a variety of views and considerations of divine glories, still they were spiritual and supernatural views of them, and not groundless fancies, that were the spring of their joys and comforts. Yet it must be acknowledged, that when this work became so universal and prevalent, and gained such general credit and esteem among the Indians, that Satan seemed to have little advantage of working against it in his own proper garb; he then transformed himself "into an angel of light," and made some vigorous attempts to introduce turbulent commotions of the passions in the room of genuine convictions of sin; imaginary and fanciful notions of Christ, as appearing to the mental eye in a human shape, and being in some particular postures, &c. in the room of spiritual and supernatural discoveries of his divine glory and excellency; as well as divers other delusions. And I have reason to think, that if these things had met with countenance and encouragement, there would have been a very considerable harvest of this kind of converts here. Spiritual pride also discovered itself in various instances. Some persons who had been under great affections, seemed very desirous from thence of being thought truly gracious; who when I could not but express to them my fears respecting their spiritual states, discovered their resentments to a considerable degree upon that occasion. There also appeared in one or two of them an unbecoming ambition of being teachers of others. So that Satan has been a busy adversary here, as well as elsewhere. But blessed be God, though something of this nature has appeared, yet nothing of it has prevailed, nor indeed made any considerable progress at all. My people are now apprised of these things, are made acquainted that Satan in such a manner "transformed himself into an angel of light," in the first season of the great outpouring of the divine Spirit in the days of the apostles; and that something of this nature, in a greater or less degree, has attended almost every revival and remarkable propagation of true religion ever since. And they have learned so to distinguish between the gold and dross, that the credit of the latter "is trodden down like the mire of the streets:" and it being natural for this kind of stuff to die with its credit, there is now scarce any appearance of it among them. And as there has been no prevalency of irregular heats, imaginary notions, spiritual pride, and satanical delusions among my people; so there has been very few instances of scandalous and irregular behaviour among those who have made a profession or even an appearance of seriousness. I do not know of more than three or four such persons that have been guilty of any open misconduct since their first acquaintance with Christianity, and not one that persists in any thing of that nature. And perhaps the remarkable purity of this work in the latter respect, its freedom from frequent instances of scandal, is very much owing to its purity in the former respect, its freedom from corrupt mixtures of spiritual pride, wild-fire, and delusion, which naturally lay a foundation for scandalous practices. " May this blessed work in the power and purity of it prevail among the poor Indians here, as well as spread elsewhere, till their remotest tribes shall see the salvation of God! Amen." [427] __________________________________________________________________ [426] That is, the First Part of the Journal. [427] Money collected and expended for the Indians. As mention has been made in the preceding Journal, of an English school erected and continued among these Indians, dependent entirely upon charity: and as collections for defraying other charges that have necessarily arisen in the promotion of the religious interests of the Indians, it may be satisfactory, and perhaps will be thought by some but a piece of justice to the world, that an exact account be here given of the money already received by way of collection for the benefit of the Indians, and the manner in which it has been expended. The following is therefore a just account of this matter:--Money received since October last, by way of public collection, for promoting the religious interests of the Indians in New Jersey, viz. £ s. d. From New York 23 10 2 Jamaica on Long Island 3 Elizabeth-town 7 5 Elizabeth-town farms 1 18 9 Newark 4 5 7 Woodbridge 2 18 2 Morris-town 1 5 3 Freehold 12 11 Freehold Dutch congregation. 4 14 3 Shrewsbury and Shark river 3 5 Middle-town Dutch congregation 2 Carried forward £ 66 13 2 £ s. d. Brought forward 66 13 2 The Dutch congregation in and about New Brunswick 3 5 King's-town 5 11 Neshaminy, and places adjacent in Pennsylvania 14 5 10 Abington & New Providence, by the hand of The Reverend Mr. Treat 10 5 The whole amounting to £ 100 Money paid out since October last for promoting the religion interests of the Indians in New Jersey, viz. Upon the occasion mentioned in my Journal Of January 28 82 5 For the building of a School-house 3 5 To the schoolmaster as a part of his reward For his present year's service 17 10 For books for the children to learn in 3 The whole amounting to £ 106 DAVID BRAINERD __________________________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________________ SECOND APPENDIX TO MR. BRAINERD'S JOURNAL: CONTAINING AN ACCOUNT OF HIS METHOD OF LEARNING THE INDIAN LANGUAGE, AND OF INSTRUCTING THE INDIANS; TOGETHER WITH THE DIFFICULTIES WHICH LIE IN THE WAY OF THEIR CONVERSION. INTRODUCTION. I should have concluded what I had at present to offer, upon the affairs respecting my mission, with the preceding account of the money collected and expended for the religious interests of the Indians, but that I have not long since received from the reverend president of the correspondents, the copy of a letter directed to him from the Honourable Society for propagating Christian Knowledge, dated at Edinburgh, March 21, 1745. Wherein I find it is expressly enjoined upon their missionaries, "That they and seasonably, which I am sensible they have not in general done, by reason of their falling into the hands of the enemy, although I have been at the pains of sending two copies of every Journal, for more than two years past, lest one might miscarry in the passage. But with relation to the latter of these particulars, I have purposely omitted saying any thing considerable, and that for these two reasons. First, because I could not oftentimes give any tolerable account of the difficulties I met with in my work, without speaking somewhat particularly of the causes of them, and the circumstances conducing to them, which would necessarily have rendered my Journals very tedious. Besides, some of the causes of my difficulties I thought more fit to be concealed than divulged. And, secondly, because I thought a frequent mentioning of the difficulties attending my work, might appear as an unbecoming complaint under my burden; or as if I would rather be thought to be endowed with a singular measure of self-denial, constancy, and holy resolution, to meet and confront so many difficulties, and yet to hold on and go forward amidst them all. But since the Honourable Society are pleased to require a more exact and particular account of these things, I shall cheerfully endeavour something for their satisfaction in relation to each of these particulars: although in regard of the latter I am ready to say, Infandum jubes renovare dolorem. __________________________________________________________________ SECT. I. Method of learning the Indian language. The most successful method I have taken for instructing myself in any of the Indian languages, is, to translate English discourses by the help of an interpreter or two, into their language as near verbatim as the sense will admit of, and to observe strictly how they use words, and what construction they will bear in various cases; and thus to gain some acquaintance with the root from whence particular words proceed, and to see how they are thence varied and diversified. But here occurs a very great difficulty; for the interpreters being unlearned, and unacquainted with the rules of language, it is impossible sometimes to know by them what part of speech some particular word is of, whether noun, verb, or participle; for they seem to use participles sometimes where we should use nouns, and sometimes where we should use verbs in the English language. But I have, notwithstanding many difficulties, gained some acquaintance with the grounds of the Delaware language, and have learned most of the defects in it; so that I know what English words can, and what cannot, be translated into it. I have also gained some acquaintance with the particular phraseologies, as well as peculiarities of their language, one of which I cannot but mention. Their language does not admit of their speaking any word denoting relation, such as, father, son, &c. absolutely; that is, without prefixing a pronoun-passive to it, such as my, thy, his, &c. Hence they cannot be baptized in their own language in the name of the Father, and the Son, &c.; but they may be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ and his Father, &c. I have gained so much knowledge of their language, that I can understand a considerable part of what they say, when they discourse upon divine things, and am frequently able to correct my interpreter, if he mistakes my sense. But I can do nothing to any purpose at speaking the language myself. And as an apology for this defect, I must renew, or rather enlarge, my former complaint, viz. That "while so much of my time is necessarily consumed in journeying," while I am obliged to ride four thousand miles a year, (as I have done in the year past,) "I can have little left for any of my necessary studies, and consequently for the study of the Indian languages." And this, I may venture to say, is the great, if not the only, reason why the Delaware language is not familiar to me before this time. And it is impossible I should ever be able to speak it without close application, which, at present, I see no prospect of having time for. To preach and catechise frequently; to converse privately with persons that need so much instruction and direction as these poor Indians do; to take care of all their secular affairs, as if they were a company of children; to ride abroad frequently in order to procure collections for the support of the school, and for their help and benefit in other respects; to hear and decide all the petty differences that arise among any of them; and to have the constant oversight and management of all their affairs of every kind, must needs engross most of my time, and leave me little for application to the study of the Indian languages. And when I add to this, the time that is necessarily consumed upon my Journals, I must say I have little to spare for other business. I have not (as was observed before) sent to the Honourable Society less than two copies of every Journal, for more than two years past; most of which, I suppose, have been taken by the French in their passage. And a third copy I have constantly kept by me, lest the others should miscarry. This has caused me not a little labour, and so straitened me for time, when I have been at liberty from other business, and had opportunity to sit down to write, which is but rare, that I have been obliged to write twelve and thirteen hours in a day; till my spirits have been extremely wasted, and my life almost spent, to get these writings accomplished. And after all; after diligent application to the various parts of my work, and after the most industrious improvement of time I am capable of, both early and late, I cannot oftentimes possibly gain two hours in a week for reading or any other studies, unless just for what appears of absolute necessity for the present. And frequently when I attempt to redeem time, by sparing it out of my sleeping hours, I am by that means thrown under bodily indisposition, and rendered fit for nothing. This is truly my present state, and is like to be so, for aught I can see, unless I could procure an assistant in my work, or quit my present business. But although I have not made that proficiency I could wish to have done, in learning the Indian languages; yet I have used all endeavours to instruct them in the English tongue, which perhaps will be more advantageous to the Christian interest among them, than if I should preach in their own language; for that is very defective, (as I shall hereafter observe,) so that many things cannot be communicated to them without introducing English terms. Besides, they can have no books translated into their language, without great difficulty and expense; and if still accustomed to their own language only, they would have no advantage of hearing other ministers occasionally, or in my absence. So that my having a perfect acquaintance with the Indian language would be of no great importance with regard to this congregation of Indians in New Jersey, although it might be of great service to me in treating with the Indians elsewhere. __________________________________________________________________ SECT. II. Method of instructing the Indians. The method I am taking to instruct the Indians in the principles of our holy religion, are, to preach, or open and improve some particular points of doctrine; to expound particular paragraphs, or sometimes whole chapters, of God's word to them; to give historical relations from Scripture of the most material and remarkable occurrences relating to the church of God from the beginning; and frequently to catechise them upon the principles of Christianity. The latter of these methods of instructing I manage in a twofold manner. I sometimes catechise systematically, proposing questions agreeable to the Reverend Assembly's Shorter Catechism. This I have carried to a considerable length. At other times I catechise upon any important subject that I think difficult to them. Sometimes when I have discoursed upon some particular point, and made it as plain and familiar to them as I can, I then catechise them upon the most material branches of my discourse, to see whether they had a thorough understanding of it. But as I have catechised chiefly in a systematical form, I shall here give some specimen of the method I make use of in it, as well as of the propriety and justness of my people's answers to the questions proposed to them. Questions upon the benefits believers receive from Christ at death. Q. I have shown you, that the children of God receive a great many good things from Christ while they live, now have they any more to receive when they come to die? A. Yes. Q. Are the children of God then made perfectly free from sin? Yes. Q. Do you think they will never more be troubled with vain, foolish, and wicked thoughts? A. No, never at all. Q. Will not they then be like the good angels I have so often told you of? A. Yes. Q. And do you call this a great mercy to be freed from all sin? A. Yes. Q. Do all God's children count it so? A. Yes, all of them. Q. Do you think this is what they would ask for above all things, if God should say to them, Ask what you will, and it shall be done for you? A. O yes, be sure, this is what they want. Q. You say the souls of God's people at death are made perfectly free from sin, where do they go then? A. They go and live with Jesus Christ. Q. Does Christ show them more respect and honour, and make them more happy [428] than we can possibly think of in this world? A. Yes. Q. Do they go immediately to live with Christ in heaven, as soon as their bodies are dead? or do they tarry somewhere else a while? A. They go immediately to Christ. Q. Does Christ take any care of the bodies of his people when they are dead, and their souls gone to heaven, or does he forget them? A. He takes care of them. These questions were all answered with surprising readiness, and without once missing, as I remember. And in answering several of them which respected deliverance from sin, they were much affected, and melted with the hopes of that happy state. Questions upon the benefits believers receive from Christ at the resurrection. Q. You see I have already shown you what good things Christ gives his good people while they live, and when they come to die; now, will he raise their bodies, and the bodies of others, to life again at the last day? A. Yes, they shall all be raised. Q. Shall they then have the same bodies they now have? A. Yes. Q. Will their bodies then be weak, will they feel cold, hunger, thirst, and weariness, as they now do? A. No, none of these things. Q. Will their bodies ever die any more after they are raised to life? A. No. Q. Will their souls and bodies be joined together again? A. Yes. Q. Will God's people be more happy then, than they were while their bodies were asleep? A. Yes. Q. Will Christ then own these to be his people before all the world? A. Yes. Q. But God's people find so much sin in themselves, that they are often ashamed of themselves, and will not Christ be ashamed to own such for his friends at that day? A. No, he never will be ashamed of them. Q. Will Christ then show all the world, that he has put away these people's sins, [429] and that he looks upon them as if they had never sinned at all? A. Yes. Q. Will he look upon them as if they had never sinned, for the sake of any good things they have done themselves, or for the sake of his righteousness accounted to them as if it was theirs? A. For the sake of his righteousness counted to them, not for their own goodness. Q. Will God's children then be as happy as they can desire to be? Yes. Q. The children of God while in this world, can but now and then draw near to him, and they are ready to think they can never have enough of God and Christ, but will they have enough there, as much as they can desire? A. O yes, enough, enough. Q. Will the children of God love him then as much as they desire, will they find nothing to hinder their love from going to him? A. Nothing at all, they shall love him as much as they desire. Q. Will they never be weary of God and Christ, and the pleasures of heaven, so as we are weary of our friends and enjoyments here, after we have been pleased with them awhile? A. No, never. Q. Could God's people be happy if they knew God loved them, and yet felt at the same time that they could not love and honour him? A. No, no. Q. Will this then make God's people perfectly happy, to love God above all, to honour him continually, and to feel his love to them? A. Yes. Q. And will this happiness last for ever? A. Yes, for ever, for ever. These questions, like the former, were answered without hesitation or missing, as I remember, in any one instance. Questions upon the duty which God requires of men. Q. Has God let us know any thing of his will, or what he would have us to do to please him? A. Yes. Q. And does he require us to do his will, and to please him? A. Yes. Q. Is it right that God should require this of us, has he any business to command us as a father does his children? A. Yes. Q. Why is it right that God should command us to do what he pleases? A. Because he made us, and gives us all our good things. Q. Does God require us to do any thing that will hurt us, and take away our comfort and happiness? A. No. Q. But God requires sinners to repent and be sorry for their sins, and to have their hearts broken; now, does not this hurt them, and take away their comfort, to be made sorry, and to have their hearts broken? A. No, it does them good. Q. Did God teach man his will at first by writing it down in a book, or did he put it into his heart, and teach him without a book what was right? A. He put it into his heart, and made him know what he should do. Q. Has God since that time writ down his will in a book? A. Yes. Q. Has God written his whole will in his book; has he there told us all that he would have us believe and do? A. Yes Q. What need was there of this book, if God at first put his will into the heart of man, and made him feel what he should do? A. There was need of it, because we have sinned, and made our hearts blind. Q. And has God writ down the same things in his book, that he at first put into the heart of man? A. Yes. In this manner I endeavour to adapt my instructions to the capacities of my people; although they may perhaps seem strange to others who have never experienced the difficulty of the work. And these I have given an account of, are the methods I am from time to time pursuing, in order to instruct them in the principles of Christianity. And I think I may say, it is my great concern that these instructions be given them in such a manner, that they may not only be doctrinally taught, but duly affected thereby, that divine truths may come to them, "not in word only, but in power, and in the Holy Ghost," and be received "not as the word of man." __________________________________________________________________ [428] The only way I have to express their "entering into glory," or being glorified; there being no word in the Indian language answering to that general term. [429] The only way I have to express their being openly-acquitted. In like manner, when I speak of justification, I have no other way but to call it God's looking upon us as good creatures. __________________________________________________________________ SECT. III. Difficulties attending the Christianizing of the Indians First difficulty, the rooted aversion to Christianity that generally prevails among them. I shall now attempt something with relation to the last particular required by the Honourable Society in their letter, viz. To give some account of the "difficulties I have already met with in my work, and the methods I make use of for surmounting the same." And, in the first instance, first, I have met with great difficulty in my work among these Indians, "from the rooted aversion to Christianity that generally prevails among them." They are not only brutishly stupid and ignorant of divine things, but many of them are obstinately set against Christianity, and seem to abhor even the Christian name. This aversion to Christianity arises partly from a view of the "immorality and vicious behaviour of many who are called Christians." They observe that horrid wickedness in nominal Christians, which the light of nature condemns in themselves: and not having distinguishing views of things, are ready to look upon all the white people alike, and to condemn them alike, for the abominable practices of some. Hence when I have attempted to treat with them about Christianity, they have frequently objected the scandalous practices of Christians. They have observed to me, that the white people lie, defraud, steal, and drink worse than the Indians; that they have taught the Indians these things, especially the latter of them; who before the coming of the English, knew of no such thing as strong drink: that the English have, by these means, made them quarrel and kill one another; and, in a word, brought them to the practice of all those vices that now prevail among them. So that they are now vastly more vicious, as well as much more miserable, than they were before the coming of the white people into the country. These, and such like objections, they frequently make against Christianity, which are not easily answered to their satisfaction; many of them being facts too notoriously true. The only way I have to take in order to surmount this difficulty, is to distinguish between nominal and real Christians; and to show them, that the ill conduct of many of the former proceeds not from their being Christians, but from their being Christians only in name, not in heart, &c. To which it has sometimes been objected, that if all those who will cheat the Indians are Christians only in name, there are but few left in the country to be Christians in heart. This, and many other of the remarks they pass upon the white people, and their miscarriages, I am forced to own, and cannot but grant, that many nominal Christians are more abominably wicked than the Indians. But then I attempt to show them, that there are some who feel the power of Christianity, and that these are not so. I ask them, when they ever saw me guilty of the vices they complain of, and charge Christians in general with? But still the great difficulty is, that the people who live back in the country nearest to them, and the traders that go among them, are generally of the most irreligious and vicious sort; and the conduct of one or two persons, be it never so exemplary, is not sufficient to counterbalance the vicious behaviour of so many of the same denomination, and so to recommend Christianity to pagans. Another thing that serves to make them more averse to Christianity, is a "fear of being enslaved." They are, perhaps, some of the most jealous people living, and extremely averse to a state of servitude, and hence are always afraid of some design forming against them. Besides, they seem to have no sentiments of generosity, benevolence, and goodness; that if any thing be proposed to them, as being for their good, they are ready rather to suspect, that there is at bottom some design forming against them, than that such proposals flow from good-will to them, and a desire of their welfare. And hence, when I have attempted to recommend Christianity to their acceptance, they have sometimes objected, that the white people have come among them, have cheated them out of their lands, driven them back to the mountains, from the pleasant places they used to enjoy by the sea-side &c.; that therefore they have no reason to think the white people are now seeking their welfare; but rather that they have sent me out to draw them together, under a pretence of kindness to them, that they may have an opportunity to make slaves of them, as they do of the poor negroes, or else to ship them on board their vessels, and make them fight with their enemies, &c. Thus they have oftentimes construed all the kindness I could show them, and the hardships I have endured in order to treat with them about Christianity. "He never would (say they) take all this pains to do us good, he must have some wicked design to hurt us some way or other." And to give them assurance of the contrary, is not an easy matter, while there are so many who (agreeable to their apprehension) are only "seeking their own," not the good of others. To remove this difficulty I inform them, that I am not sent out among them by those persons in these provinces, who they suppose have cheated them out of their lands; but by pious people at a great distance, who never had an inch of their lands, nor ever thought of doing them any hurt, &c. But here will arise so many frivolous and impertinent questions, that it would tire one's patience, and wear out one's spirits to hear them; such as, "But why did not these good people send you to teach us before, while we had our lands down by the sea-side, &c. If they had sent you then, we should likely have heard you, and turned Christians." The poor creatures still imagining, that I should be much beholden to them, in case they would hearken to Christianity; and insinuating, that this was a favour they could not now be so good as to show me, seeing they had received so many injuries from the white people. Another spring of aversion to Christianity in the Indians, is, "their strong attachment to their own religious notions, (if they may be called religious,) and the early prejudices they have imbibed in favour of their own frantic and ridiculous kind of worship." What their notions of God are, in their pagan state, is hard precisely to determine. I have taken much pains to inquire of my Christian people, whether they, before their acquaintance with Christianity, imagined there was a plurality of great invisible powers, or whether they supposed but one such being, and worshipped him in a variety of forms and shapes: but cannot learn any thing of them so distinct as to be fully satisfying upon the point. Their notions in that state were so prodigiously dark and confused, that they seemed not to know what they thought themselves. But so far as I can learn, they had a notion of a plurality of invisible deities, and paid some kind of homage to them promiscuously, under a great variety of forms and shapes. And it is certain, that those who yet remain pagans pay some kind of superstitious reverence to beasts, birds, fishes, and even reptiles; that is, some to one kind of animal, and some to another. They do not indeed suppose a divine power essential to, or inhering in, these creatures, but that some invisible beings I cannot learn that it is always one such being only, but divers; not distinguished from each other by certain names, but only notionally communicate to those animals a great power (either one or other of them, just as it happens, or perhaps sometimes all of them,) and so make these creatures the immediate authors of good to certain persons. Whence such a creature becomes sacred to the persons to whom he is supposed to be the immediate author of good, and through him they must worship the invisible powers, though to others he is no more than another creature. And perhaps another animal is looked upon to be the immediate author of good to another, and consequently he must worship the invisible powers in that animal. And I have known a pagan burn fine tobacco for incense, in order to appease the anger of that invisible power which he supposed presided over rattle-snakes, because one of these animals was killed by an other Indian near his house. But after the strictest inquiry respecting their notions of the Deity, I find, that in ancient times, before the coming of the white people, some supposed there were four invisible powers, who presided over the four corners of the earth. Others imagined the sun to be the only deity, and that all things were made by him. Others, at the same time, have a confused notion of a certain body or fountain of deity, somewhat like the anima mundi, so frequently mentioned by the more learned ancient heathens, diffusing itself to various animals, and even to inanimate things, making them the immediate authors of good to certain persons, as before observed, with respect to various supposed deities. But after the coming of the white people, they seemed to suppose there were three deities, and three only, because they saw people of three different kinds of complexion, viz. English, Negroes, and themselves. It is a notion pretty generally prevailing among them, that it was not the same God made them, who made us; but that they were made after the white people: which further shows, that they imagine a plurality of divine powers. And I fancy they suppose their god gained some special skill by seeing the white people made, and so made them better: for it is certain they look upon themselves, and their methods of living, (which, they say, their god expressly prescribed for them,) vastly preferable to the white people, and their methods. And hence will frequently sit and laugh at them, as being good for nothing else but to plough and fatigue themselves with hard labour; while they enjoy the satisfaction of stretching themselves on the ground, and sleeping as much as they please; and have no other trouble but now and then to chase the deer, which is often attended with pleasure rather than pain. Hence, by the way, many of them look upon it as disgraceful for them to become Christians, as it would be esteemed among Christians for any to become pagans. And now although they suppose our religion will do well enough for us, because prescribed by our God, yet it is no ways proper for them, because not of the same make and original. This they have sometimes offered as a reason why they did not incline to hearken to Christianity. They seem to have some confused notion about a future state of existence, and many of them imagine that the chichung, (i. e. the shadow,) or what survives the body, will at death go southward, and in an unknown but curious place, will enjoy some kind of happiness, such as, hunting, feasting, dancing, and the like. And what they suppose will contribute much to their happiness in that state, is that they shall never be weary of those entertainments. It seems by this notion of their going southward to obtain happiness, as if they had their course into these parts of the world from some very cold climate, and found the further they went southward the more comfortable they were; and thence concluded, that perfect felicity was to be found further towards the same point. They seem to have some faint and glimmering notion about rewards and punishments, or at least happiness and misery, in a future state, that is, some that I have conversed with, though others seem to know of no such thing. Those that suppose this, seem to imagine that most will be happy, and that those who are not so, will be punished only with privation, being only excluded the walls of that good world where happy souls shall dwell. These rewards and punishments they suppose to depend entirely upon their conduct with relation to the duties of the second table, i. e. their behaviour towards mankind, and seem, so far as I can see, not to imagine that they have any reference to their religious notions or practices, or any thing that relates to the worship of God. I remember I once consulted a very ancient but intelligent Indian upon this point, for my own satisfaction; and asked him whether the Indians of old times had supposed there was any thing of the man that would survive the body? He replied, Yes. I asked him, where they supposed its abode would be? He replied, "It would go southward." I asked him further, whether it would be happy there? He answered, after a considerable pause, "that the souls of good folks would be happy, and the souls of bad folks miserable." I then asked him, who he called bad folks? His answer (as I remember) was, "Those who lie, steal, quarrel with their neighbours, are unkind to their friends, and especially to aged parents, and, in a word, such as are a plague to mankind." These were his bad folks; but not a word was said about their neglect of divine worship, and their badness in that respect. They have indeed some kind of religious worship, are frequently offering sacrifices to some supposed invisible powers, and are very ready to impute their calamities in the present world, to the neglect of these sacrifices; but there is no appearance of reverence and devotion in the homage they pay them; and what they do of this nature, seems to be done only to appease the supposed anger of their deities, to engage them to be placable to themselves, and do them no hurt, or at most, only to invite these powers to succeed them in those enterprises they are engaged in respecting the present life. So that in offering these sacrifices, they seem to have no reference to a future state, but only to present comfort. And this is the account my interpreter always gives me of this matter. "They sacrifice (says he) that they may have success in hunting and other affairs, and that sickness and other calamities may not befall them, which they fear in the present world, in case of neglect; but they do not suppose God will ever punish them in the coming world for neglecting to sacrifice," &c. And indeed they seem to imagine, that those whom they call bad folks, are excluded from the company of good people in that state, not so much because God remembers, and is determined to punish them for their sins of any kind, either immediately against himself or their neighbour, as because they would be a plague to society, and would render others unhappy if admitted to dwell with them. So that they are excluded rather of necessity, than by God acting as a righteous judge. They give much heed to dreams, because they suppose these invisible powers give them directions at such times about certain affairs, and sometimes inform them what animal they would choose to be worshipped in. They are likewise much attached to the traditions and fabulous notions of their fathers, who have informed them of divers miracles that were anciently wrought among the Indians, which they firmly believe, and thence look upon their ancestors to have been the best of men. They also mention some wonderful things which, they say, have happened since the memory of some who are now living. One I remember affirmed to me, that himself had once been dead four days, that most of his friends in that time were gathered together to his funeral, and that he should have been buried, but that some of his relations at a great distance, who were sent for upon that occasion, were not arrived, before whose coming he came to life again. In this time, he says, he went to the place where the sun rises, (imagining the earth to be plain,) and directly over that place, at a great height in the air, he was admitted, he says, into a great house, which he supposes was several miles in length, and saw many wonderful things, too tedious as well as ridiculous to mention. Another person, a woman, whom I have not seen, but been credibly informed of by the Indians, declares, that she was dead several days, that her soul went southward, and feasted and danced with the happy spirits, and that she found all things exactly agreeable to the Indian notions of a future state. These superstitious notions and traditions, and this kind of ridiculous worship I have mentioned, they are extremely attached to, and the prejudice they have imbibed in favour of these things, renders them not a little averse to the doctrine of Christianity. Some of them have told me, when I have endeavoured to instruct them, "that their fathers had taught them already, and that they did not want to learn now." It will be too tedious to give any considerable account of the methods I make use of for surmounting this difficulty. I will just say, I endeavour, as much as possible, to show them the inconsistency of their own notions, and so to confound them out of their own mouths. But I must also say, I have sometimes been almost nonplussed with them, and scarce knew what to answer them: but never have been more perplexed with them, than when they have pretended to yield to me as knowing more than they, and consequently have asked me numbers of impertinent, and yet difficult questions, as, "How the Indians came first into this part of the world, away from all the white people, if what I said was true," viz. that the same God made them who made us? "How the Indians became black, if they had the same original parents with the white people?" And numbers more of the like nature. These things, I must say, have been not a little difficult and discouraging, especially when withal some of the Indians have appeared angry and malicious against Christianity. What further contributes to their aversion to Christianity is, the influence that their powows (conjurers or diviners) have upon them. These are a sort of persons who are supposed to have a power of foretelling future events, or recovering the sick, at least oftentimes, and of charming, enchanting, or poisoning persons to death by their magic divinations. And their spirit, in its various operations, seems to be a Satanical imitation of the spirit of prophecy that the church in early ages was favoured with. Some of these diviners are endowed with the spirit in infancy; others in adult age. It seems not to depend upon their own will, nor to be acquired by any endeavours of the person who is the subject of it, although it is supposed to be given to children sometimes in consequence of some means the parents use with them for that purpose; one of which is to make the child swallow a small living frog, after having performed some superstitious rites and ceremonies upon it. They are not under the influence of this spirit always alike, but it comes upon them at times. And those who are endowed with it, are accounted singularly favoured. I have laboured to gain some acquaintance with this affair of their conjuration, and have for that end consulted and queried with the man mentioned in my Journal of May 9, who, since his conversion to Christianity, has endeavoured to give me the best intelligence he could of this matter. But it seems to be such a mystery of iniquity, that I cannot well understand it, and do not know oftentimes what ideas to affix to the terms he makes use of; and, so far as I can learn, he himself has not any clear notions of the thing, now his spirit of divination is gone from him. However, the manner in which he says he obtained this spirit of divination was this; he was admitted into the presence of a great wan, who informed him, that he loved, pitied, and desired to do him good. It was not in this world that he saw the great man, but in a world above at a vast distance from this. The great man, he says, was clothed with the day; yea, with the brightest day he ever saw; a day of many years, yea, of everlasting continuance! this whole world, he says, was drawn upon him, so that in him, the earth, and all things in it, might be seen. I asked him, if rocks, mountains, and seas were drawn upon, or appeared in him? He replied, that every thing that was beautiful and lovely in the earth was upon him, and might be seen by looking on him, as well as if one was on the earth to take a view of them there. By the side of the great man, he says, stood his shadow or spirit; for he used (chichung) the word they commonly use to express that of the man which survives the body, which word properly signifies a shadow. This shadow, he says, was as lovely as the man himself, and filled all places, and was most agreeable as well as wonderful to him. Here, he says, he tarried some time, and was unspeakably entertained and delighted with a view of the great man, of his shadow or spirit, and of all things in him. And what is most of all astonishing, he imagines all this to have passed before he was born. He never had been, he says, in this world at that time. And what confirms him in the belief of this, is, that the great man told him, that he must come down to earth, be born of such a woman, meet with such and such things, and in particular, that he should once in his life be guilty of murder. At this he was displeased, and told the great man, he would never murder. But the great man replied, "I have said it, and it shall be so." Which has accordingly happened. At this time, he says, the great man asked him what he would choose in life. He replied, First to be a hunter, and afterwards to be a powow or diviner. Whereupon the great man told him, he should have what he desired, and that his shadow should go along with him down to earth, and be with him for ever. There was, he says, all this time no words spoken between them. The conference was not carried on by any human language, but they had a kind of mental intelligence of each other's thoughts, dispositions, and proposals. After this, he says, he saw the great man no more; but supposes he now came down to earth to be born, but the spirit or shadow of the great man still attended him, and ever after continued to appear to him in dreams and other ways, until he felt the power of God's word upon his heart; since which it has entirely left him. This spirit, he says, used sometimes to direct him in dreams to go to such a place and hunt, assuring him he should there meet with success, which accordingly proved so. And when he had been there some time, the spirit would order him to another place. So that he had success in hunting, according to the great man's promise made to him at the time of his choosing this employment. There were some times when this spirit came upon him in a special manner, and he was full of what he saw in the great man; and then, he says, he was all light, and not only light himself, but it was light all around him, so that he could see through men, and knew the thoughts of their hearts, &c. These depths of Satan I leave to others to fathom or to dive into as they please, and do not pretend, for my own part, to know what ideas to affix to such terms, and cannot well guess what conceptions of things these creatures have at these times when they call themselves all light. But my interpreter tells me, that he heard one of them tell a certain Indian the secret thoughts of his heart, which he had never divulged. The case was this, the Indian was bitten with a snake, and was in extreme pain with the bite. Whereupon the diviner (who was applied to for his recovery) told him, that at such a time he had promised, that the next deer he killed, he would sacrifice it to some great power, but had broken his promise. And now, said he, that great power has ordered this snake to bite you for your neglect. The Indian confessed it was so, but said he had never told any body of it. But as Satan, no doubt, excited the Indian to make that promise, it was no wonder he should be able to communicate the matter to the conjurer. These things serve to fix them down in their idolatry, and to make them believe there is no safety to be expected, but by their continuing to offer such sacrifices. And the influence that these powows have upon them, either through the esteem or fear they have of them, is no small hinderance to their embracing Christianity. To remove this difficulty, I have laboured to show the Indians, that these diviners have no power to recover the sick, when the God whom Christians serve, has determined them for death; and that the supposed great power who influences these diviners has himself no power in this case: and that if they seem to recover any by their magic charms, they are only such as the God I preached to them, had determined should recover, and who would have recovered without their conjurations, &c. And when I have apprehended them afraid of embracing Christianity, lest they should be enchanted and poisoned, I have endeavoured to relieve their minds of this fear, by asking them, Why their powows did not enchant and poison me, seeing they had as much reason to hate me for preaching to and desiring them to become Christians, as they could have to hate them in case they should actually become such? And that they might have an evidence of the power and goodness of God engaged for the protection of Christians, I ventured to bid a challenge to all their powows and great powers to do their worst on me first of all, and thus laboured to tread down their influence. Many things further might be offered upon this head, but thus much may suffice for a representation of their aversion to and prejudice against Christianity, the springs of it, and the difficulties thence arising. __________________________________________________________________ SECT. IV. Second difficulty in converting the Indians, viz. To convey divine truths to their understanding, and to gain their assent. Another great difficulty I have met with in my attempts to Christianize the Indians, has been to "convey divine truths to their understandings, and to gain their assent to them as such." In the first place, I laboured under a very great disadvantage for want of an interpreter, who had a good degree of doctrinal as well as experimental knowledge of divine things: in both which respects my present interpreter was very defective when I first employed him, as I noted in the account I before gave of him. And it was sometimes extremely discouraging to me, when I could not make him understand what I designed to communicate; when truths of the last importance appeared foolishness to him for want of a spiritual understanding and relish of them; and when he addressed the Indians in a lifeless indifferent manner, without any heart-engagement or fervency; and especially when he appeared heartless and irresolute about making attempts for the conversion of the Indians to Christianity, as he frequently did. For although he had a desire that they should conform to Christian manners, (as I elsewhere observed,) yet being abundantly acquainted with their strong attachments to their own superstitious notions, and the difficulty of bringing them off, and having no sense of divine power and grace, nor dependence upon an Almighty arm for the accomplishment of this work, he used to be discouraged, and tell me, "It signifies nothing for us to try, they will never turn," &c. So that he was a distressing weight and burden to me. And here I should have sunk, scores of times, but that God in a remarkable manner supported me; sometimes by giving me full satisfaction that he himself had called me to this work, and thence a secret hope that sometime or other I might meet with success in it; or if not, that "my judgment should notwithstanding be with the Lord, and my work with my God." Sometimes by giving me a sense of his almighty power, and that "his hand was not shortened." Sometimes by affording me a fresh and lively view of some remarkable freedom and assistance I had been repeatedly favoured with in prayer for the ingathering of these heathens some years before, even before I was a missionary, and a refreshing sense of the stability and faithfulness of the divine promises, and that the prayer of faith should not fail. Thus I was supported under these trials, and the method God was pleased to take for the removal of this difficulty, (respecting my interpreter,) I have sufficiently represented elsewhere. Another thing that rendered it very difficult to convey divine truths to the understandings of the Indians, was the defect of their language, the want of terms to express and convey ideas of spiritual things. There are no words in the Indian language to answer our English words, "Lord, Saviour, salvation, sinner, justice, condemnation, faith, repentance, justification, adoption, sanctification, grace, glory, heaven," with scores of the like importance. The only methods I can make use of for surmounting this difficulty, are, either to describe the things at large designed by these terms, as, if I was speaking of regeneration, to call it the "heart's being changed" by God's Spirit, or the "heart's being made good." Or else I must introduce the English terms into their language, and fix the precise meaning of them, that they may know what I intend whenever I use them. But what renders it much more difficult to convey divine truths to the understandings of these Indians, is, that "there seems to be no foundation in their minds to begin upon;" I mean no truths that may be taken for granted, as being already known, while I am attempting to instil others. And divine truths having such a necessary connexion with, and dependence upon, each other, I find it extremely difficult in my first addresses to pagans to begin and discourse of them in their proper order and connexion, without having reference to truths not yet known, without taking for granted such things as need first to be taught and proved. There is no point of Christian doctrine but what they are either wholly ignorant of, or extremely confused in their notions about. And therefore it is necessary they should be instructed in every truth, even in those that are the most easy and obvious to the understanding, and which a person educated under gospel-light would be ready to pass over in silence, as not imagining that any rational creature could be ignorant of. The method I have usually taken in my first addresses to pagans, has been to introduce myself by saying, that I was come among them with a desire and design of teaching them some things which I presumed they did not know, and which I trusted would be for their comfort and happiness if known; desiring they would give their attention, and hoping they might meet with satisfaction in my discourse. And thence have proceeded to observe, that there are two things belonging to every man, which I call the soul and body. These I endeavour to distinguish from each other, by observing to them, that there is something in them that is capable of joy and pleasure, when their bodies are sick and much pained: and, on the contrary, that they find something within them that is fearful, sorrowful, ashamed, &c. and consequently very uneasy, when their bodies are in perfect health. I then observed to them, that this which rejoices in them (perhaps at the sight of some friend who has been long absent) when their bodies are sick and in pain, this which is sorrowful, frighted, ashamed, &c. and consequently uneasy, when their bodies are perfectly at ease, this I call the soul. And although it cannot be seen like the other part of the man, viz. the body, yet it is as real as their thoughts, desires, &c. which are likewise things that cannot be seen. I then further observe, that this part of the man which thinks, rejoices, grieves, &c. will live after the body is dead. For the proof of this, I produce the opinion of their fathers, who (as I am told by very aged Indians now living) always supposed there was something of the man that would survive the body. And if I can, for the proof of any thing I assert, say, as St. Paul to the Athenians, "As certain also of your own sages have said," it is sufficient. And having established this point, I next observe, that what I have to say to them, respects the conscious part of the man; and that with relation to its state after the death of the body; and that I am not come to treat with them about the things that concern the present world. This method I am obliged to take, because they will otherwise entirely mistake the design of my preaching, and suppose the business I am upon, is something that relates to the present world, having never been called together by the white people upon any other occasion, but only to be treated with about the sale of lands, or some other secular business. And I find it almost impossible to prevent their imagining that I am engaged in the same, or such like affairs, and to beat it into them, that my concern is to treat with them about their invisible part, and that with relation to its future state. But having thus opened the way, by distinguishing between soul and body, and showing the immortality of the former, and that my business is to treat with them in order to their happiness in a future state; I proceed to discourse of the being and perfections of God, particularly of his "eternity, unity, self-sufficiency, infinite wisdom, and almighty power." It is necessary, in the first place, to teach them, that God is from everlasting, and so distinguished from all creatures; though it is very difficult to communicate any thing of that nature to them, they having no terms in their language to signify an eternity a parte ante. It is likewise necessary discourse of the divine unity, in order to confute the notions they seem to have of a plurality of gods. The divine all-sufficiency must also necessarily be mentioned, in order to prevent their imagining that God was unhappy while alone, before the formation of his creatures. And something respecting the divine wisdom and power seems necessary to be insisted upon, in order to make way for discoursing of God's works. Having offered some things upon the divine perfections mentioned, I proceed to open the work of creation in general, and in particular God's creation of man in a state of uprightness and happiness, placing them in a garden of pleasure; the means and manner of their apostacy from that state, and loss of that happiness. But before I can give a relation of their fall from God, I am obliged to make a large digression, in order to give an account of the original and circumstances of their tempter, his capacity of assuming the shape of a serpent, from his being a spirit without a body, &c. Whence I go on to show, the ruins of our fallen state, the mental blindness and vicious dispositions our first parents then contracted to themselves, and propagated to all their posterity; the numerous calamities brought upon them and theirs by this apostacy from God, and the exposedness of the whole human race to eternal perdition. And thence labour to show them the necessity of an almighty Saviour to deliver us from this deplorable state, as well as of a divine revelation to instruct us in, and direct us agreeable to, the will of God. And thus the way, by such an introductory discourse, is prepared for opening the gospel-scheme of salvation through the great Redeemer, and for treating of those doctrine that immediately relate to the soul's renovation by the divine Spirit, and preparation for a state of everlasting blessedness. In giving such a relation of things to pagans, it is not a little difficult, as observed before, to deliver truths in their proper order, without interfering, and without taking for granted things not as yet known; to discourse of them in a familiar manner suited to the capacities of heathens; to illustrate them by easy and natural similitudes; to obviate or answer the objections they are disposed to make against the several particulars of it, as well as to take notice of and confute their contrary notions. What has sometimes been very discouraging in my first discourses to them, is, that when I have distinguished between the present and future state, and shown them that it was my business to treat of those things that concern the life to come, they have mocked., and looked upon these things of no importance; have scarce had a curiosity to hear, and perhaps walked off before I had half done my discourse. And in such a case no impressions can be made upon their minds to gain their attention. They are not awed by hearing of the anger of God engaged against sinners, of everlasting punishment as the portion of gospel-neglecters. They are not allured by hearing of the blessedness of those who embrace and obey the gospel. So that to gain their attention to my discourses, has often been as difficult as to give them a just notion of the design of them, or to open truths in their proper order. Another difficulty naturally falling under the head I am now upon, is, that "it is next to impossible to bring them to a rational conviction that they are sinners by nature, and that their hearts are corrupt and sinful," unless one could charge them with some gross acts of immorality, such as the light of nature condemns. If they can be charged with behaviour contrary to the commands of the second table, with manifest abuses of their neighbour, they will generally own such actions to be wrong; but then they seem as if they thought only the actions were sinful, and not their hearts. But if they cannot be charged with such scandalous actions, they seem to have no consciousness of sin and guilt at all, as I had occasion to observe in my Journal of March 24. So that it is very difficult to convince them rationally of that which is readily acknowledged (though, alas! rarely felt) in the Christian world, viz. "That we are all sinners." The method I take to convince them "we are sinners by nature," is, to lead them to an observation of their little children, how they will appear in a rage, fight and strike their mothers, before they are able to speak or walk, while they are so young that it is plain they are incapable of learning such practices. And the light of nature in the Indians condemning such behaviour in children towards their parents, they must own these tempers and actions to be wrong and sinful. And the children having never learned these things, they must have been in their natures, and consequently they must be allowed to be "by nature the children of wrath." The same I observe to them with respect to the sin of lying, which their children seem much inclined to. They tell lies without being taught so to do, from their own natural inclination, as well as against restraints, and after corrections for that vice, which proves them sinners by nature, &c. And further, in order to show them their hearts are all corrupted and sinful, I observe to them, that this may be the case, and they not be sensible of it through the blindness of their minds. That it is no evidence they are not sinful, because they do not know and feel it. I then mention all the vices I know the Indians to be guilty of, and so make use of these sinful streams to convince them the fountain is corrupt. And this is the end for which I mention their wicked practices to them, not because I expect to bring them to an effectual reformation merely by inveighing against their immoralities; but hoping they may hereby be convinced of the corruption of their hearts, and awakened to a sense of the depravity and misery of their fallen state. And for the same purpose, viz. "to convince them they are sinners," I sometimes open to them the great command of "loving God with all the heart, strength, and mind;" show them the reasonableness of loving him who has made, preserved, and dealt bountifully with us: and then labour to show them their utter neglect in this regard, and that they have been so far from loving God in this manner, that, on the contrary, he has not been "in all their thoughts." These, and such like, are the means I have made use of in order to remove this difficulty; but if it be asked after all, "How it was surmounted?" I must answer, God himself was pleased to do it with regard to a number of these Indians, by taking his work into his own hand, and making them feel at heart, that they were both sinful and miserable. And in the day of God's power, whatever was spoken to them from God's word, served to convince them they were sinners, (even the most melting invitations of the gospel,) and to fill them with solicitude to obtain a deliverance from that deplorable state. Further, it is extremely difficult to give them any just notion of the undertaking of Christ in behalf of sinners; of his obeying and suffering in their room and stead, in order to atone for their sins, and procure their salvation; and of their being justified by his righteousness imputed to them. They are in general wholly unacquainted with civil laws and proceedings, and know of no such thing as one person being substituted as a surety in the room of another, nor have any kind of notion of civil judicatures, of persons being arraigned, tried, judged, condemned, or acquitted. And hence it is very difficult to treat with them upon any thing of this nature, or that bears any relation to legal procedures. And although they cannot but have some dealings with the white people, in order to procure clothing and other necessaries of life, yet it is scarce ever known that any one pays a penny for another, but each one stands for himself. Yet this is a thing that may be supposed, though seldom practised among them, and they may be made to understand, that if a friend of theirs pay a debt for them, it is right that upon that consideration they themselves should be discharged. And this is the only way I can take in order to give them a proper notion of the undertaking and satisfaction of Christ in behalf of sinners. But here naturally arise two questions. First, "What need there was of Christ's obeying and suffering for us; why God would not look upon us to be good creatures (to use my common phrase for justification) on account of our own good deeds?" In answer to which I sometimes observe, that a child being never so orderly and obedient to its parents to-day, does by no means satisfy for its contrary behaviour yesterday; and that if it be loving and obedient at some times only, and at other times cross and disobedient, it never can be looked upon a good child for its own doings, since it ought to have behaved in an obedient manner always. This simile strikes their minds in an easy and forcible manner, and serves, in a measure, to illustrate the point. For the light of nature, as before hinted, teaches them, that their children ought to be obedient to them, and that at all times; and some of them are very severe with them for the contrary behaviour. This I apply in the plainest manner to our behaviour towards God; and so show them, that it is impossible for us, since we have sinned against God, to be justified before him by our own doings, since present and future goodness, although perfect and constant, could never satisfy for past misconduct. A second question, is, "If our debt was so great, and if we all deserved to suffer, how one person's suffering was sufficient to answer for the whole?" Here I have no better way to illustrate the infinite value of Christ's obedience and sufferings, arising from the dignity and excellency of his person, than to show them the superior value of gold to that of baser metals, and that a small quantity of this will discharge a greater debt, than a vast quantity of the common copper pence. But after all, it is extremely difficult to treat with them upon this great doctrine of "justification by imputed righteousness." I scarce know how to conclude this head, so many things occurring that might properly be added here; but what has been mentioned, may serve for a specimen of the difficulty of conveying divine truths to the understandings of these Indians, and of gaining their assent to them as such. __________________________________________________________________ SECT. V. A third difficulty in converting the Indians, viz. Their inconvenient situations, savage manners, and unhappy method of living. Their "inconvenient situations, savage manners, and unhappy method of living," have been an unspeakable difficulty and discouragement to me in my work. They generally live in the wilderness, and some that I have visited, at great distances from the English settlements. This has obliged me to travel much, oftentimes over hideous rocks, mountains, and swamps, and frequently to lie out in the open woods, which deprived me of the common comforts of life, and greatly impaired my health. When I have got among them in the wilderness, I have often met with great difficulty in my attempts to discourse to them. I have sometimes spent hours with them in attempting to answer their objections, and remove their jealousies, before I could prevail upon them to give me a hearing upon Christianity. I have been often obliged to preach in their houses in cold and windy weather, when they have been full of smoke and cinders, as well as unspeakably filthy; which has many times thrown me into violent sick head-aches. While I have been preaching, their children have frequently cried to such a degree, that I could scarcely be heard, and their pagan mothers would take no manner of care to quiet them. At the same time, perhaps, some have been laughing and mocking at divine truths. Others playing with their dogs, whittleing sticks, and the like. And this, in many of them, not from spite and prejudice, but for want of better manners. A view of these things has been not a little sinking and discouraging to me. It has sometimes so far prevailed upon me as to render me entirely dispirited, and wholly unable to go on with my work; and given me such a melancholy turn of mind, that I have many times thought I could never more address an Indian upon religious matters. The solitary manner in which I have generally been obliged to live, on account of their inconvenient situation, has been not a little pressing. I have spent the greater part of my time, for more than three years past, entirely alone, as to any agreeable society; and a very considerable part of it in houses by myself, without having the company of any human creature. Sometimes I have scarcely seen an Englishman for a month or six weeks together; and have had my spirits so depressed with melancholy views of the tempers and conduct of pagans, when I have been for some time confined with them, that I have felt as if banished from all the people of God. I have likewise been wholly alone in my work, there being no other missionary among the Indians in either of these provinces. And other ministers neither knowing the peculiar difficulties, nor most advantageous methods of performing my work, have been capable to afford me little assistance or support in any respect. A feeling of the great disadvantages of being alone in this work, has discovered to me the wisdom and goodness of the great Head of the church, in sending forth his disciples two and two, in order to proclaim the sacred mysteries of his kingdom; and has made me long for a colleague to be a partner of my cares, hopes, and fears, as well as labours amongst the Indians; and excited to use some means in order to procure such an assistant, although I have not as yet been so happy as to meet with success in that respect. I have not only met with great difficulty in travelling to, and for some time residing among, the Indians far remote in the wilderness, but also in living with them, in one place and another, more statedly. I have been obliged to remove my residence from place to place; having procured, and after some poor fashion, furnished, three houses for living among them, in the space of about three years past. One at Kaunaumeek, about twenty miles distant from the city of Albany; one at the Forks of Delaware, in Pennsylvania; and one at Crossweeksung, in New Jersey. And the Indians in the latter of these provinces, with whom I have lately spent most of my time, being not long since removed from the place where they lived last winter, (the reason of which I mentioned in my Journal of March 24, and May 4,) I have now no house at all of my own, but am obliged to lodge with an English family at a considerable distance from them, to the great disadvantage of my work among them; they being like children that continually need advice and direction, as well as incitement to their worldly business. The houses I have formerly lived in are at great distances from each other; the two nearest of them being more than seventy miles apart, and neither of them within fifteen miles of the place where the Indians now live. The Indians are a very poor and indigent people, and so destitute of the comforts of life, at some seasons of the year especially, that it is impossible for a person who has any pity to them, and concern for the Christian interest, to live among them without considerable expense, especially in time of sickness. If any thing be bestowed on one, (as in some cases it is peculiarly necessary, in order to remove their pagan jealousies, and engage their friendship to Christianity,) others, be there never so many of them, expect the same treatment. And while they retain their pagan tempers, they discover little gratitude, amidst all the kindnesses they receive. If they make any presents, they expect double satisfaction. And Christianity itself does not at once cure them of these ungrateful tempers. They are in general unspeakably indolent and slothful. They have been bred up in idleness, and know little about cultivating land, or indeed of engaging vigorously in any other business. So that I am obliged to instruct them in, as well as press them to, the performance of their work, and take the oversight of all their secular business. They have little or no ambition or resolution. Not one in a thousand of them has the spirit of a man. And it is next to impossible to make them sensible of the duty and importance of being active, diligent, and industrious in the management of their worldly business; and to excite in them any spirit and promptitude of that nature. When I have laboured to the utmost of my ability to show them of what importance it would be to the Christian interest among them, as well as to their worldly comfort, for them to be laborious and prudent in their business, and to furnish themselves with the comforts of life; how this would incline the pagans to come among them, and so put them under the means of salvation how it would encourage religious persons of the white people to help them, as well as stop the mouths of others that were disposed to cavil against them; how they might by this means pay others their just dues, and so prevent trouble from coming upon themselves, and reproach upon their Christian profession they have indeed assented to all I said, but been little moved, and consequently have acted like themselves, or at least too much so. Though it must be acknowledged, that those who appear to have a sense of divine things, are considerably amended in this respect, and it is to be hoped, that time will make a yet greater alteration upon them for the better. The concern I have had for the settling of these Indians in New Jersey in a compact form, in order to their being a Christian congregation, in a capacity of enjoying the means of grace; the care of managing their worldly business in order to this end, and to their having a comfortable livelihood; have been more pressing to my mind, and cost me more labour and fatigue, for several months past, than all my other work among them. Their "wandering to and fro in order to procure the necessaries of life," is another difficulty that attends my work. This has often deprived me of opportunities to discourse to them; and it has thrown them in the way of temptation; either among pagans further remote where they have gone to hunt, who have laughed at them for hearkening to Christianity; or, among white people more horribly wicked, who have often made them drunk, and then got their commodities such as skins, baskets, brooms, shovels, and the like, with which they designed to have bought corn, and other necessaries of life, for themselves and families for, it may be, nothing but a little strong liquor, and then sent them home empty. So that for the labour perhaps of several weeks, they have got nothing but the satisfaction of being drunk once; and have not only lost their labour, but, which is infinitely worse, the impressions of some divine subjects that were made upon their minds before. But I forbear enlarging upon this head. The few hints I have given may be sufficient to give thinking persons some apprehensions of the difficulties attending my work, on account of the inconvenient situations and savage manners of the Indians, as well as of their unhappy method of living. __________________________________________________________________ SECT. VI. Fourth difficulty in converting the Indians, viz. The designs of evil-minded persons to hinder the work. The last difficulty I shall mention, as having attended my work, is "what has proceeded from the attempts that some ill-minded persons have designedly made, to hinder the propagation of the gospel, and a work of divine grace, among the Indians." The Indians are not only of themselves prejudiced against Christianity, on the various accounts I nave already mentioned, but, as if this was not enough, there are some in all parts of the country where I have preached to them, who have taken pains industriously to bind them down in pagan darkness; "neglecting to enter into the kingdom of God themselves, and labouring to hinder others. " After the beginning of the religious concern among the Indians in New Jersey, some endeavoured to prejudice them against me and the truths I taught them, by the most sneaking, unmanly, and false suggestions of things that had no manner of foundation but in their own brains. Some particulars of this kind I formerly took notice of in one of the remarks made upon my Journal concluded the 20th of November last; and might have added more, and of another nature, had not modesty forbidden me to mention what was too obscene. But, through the mercy of God, they were never able, by all their abominable insinuations, flouting jeers, and downright lies, to create in the Indians those jealousies they desired to possess them with, and so were never suffered to hinder the work of grace among them. But when they saw they could not prejudice the Indians against me, nor hinder them from receiving the gospel, they then noised it through the country, that I was undoubtedly a Roman catholic, and that I was gathering together, and training up, the Indians in order to serve a popish interest, that I should quickly head them, and cut people's throats. What they pretended gave them reason for this opinion, was, that they understood I had a commission from Scotland. Whereupon they could with great assurance say, "All Scotland is turned to the Pretender, and this is but a popish plot to make a party for him here," &c. And some, I am informed, actually went to the civil authority with complaints against me, but only laboured under this unhappiness, that when they came, they had nothing to complain of, and could give no colour of reason why they attempted any such thing, or desired the civil authority to take cognizance of me, having not a word to allege against my preaching or practice, only they surmised that because the Indians appeared so very loving and orderly, they had a design of imposing upon people by that means, and so of getting a better advantage to cut their throats. And what temper they would have had the Indians appear with, in order to have given no occasion, nor have left any room for such a suspicion, I cannot tell. I presume if they had appeared with the contrary temper, it would quickly have been observed of them, that "they were now grown surly," and in all probability were preparing to "cut people's throats." From a view of these things, I have had occasion to admire the wisdom and goodness of God in providing so full and authentic a commission for the undertaking and carrying on of this work, without which, notwithstanding the charitableness of the design, it had probably met with molestation. The Indians who have been my hearers in New Jersey, have likewise been sued for debt, and threatened with imprisonment, more since I came among them, as they inform me, than in seven years before. The reason of this, I suppose, was, they left frequenting those tippling houses where they used to consume most of what they gained by hunting and other means. And these persons, seeing that the hope of future gain was lost, were resolved to make sure of what they could. And perhaps some of them put the Indians to trouble, purely out of spite at their embracing Christianity. This conduct of theirs has been very distressing to me; for I was sensible, that if they did imprison any one that embraced or hearkened to Christianity, the news of it would quickly spread among the pagans, hundreds of miles distant, who would immediately conclude I had involved them in this difficulty; and thence be filled with prejudice against Christianity, and strengthened in their jealousy, that the whole of my design among them, was to insnare and enslave them. And I knew that some of the Indians upon Susquehannah had made this objection against hearing me preach, viz. That they understood a number of Indians in Maryland, some hundreds of miles distant, who had been uncommonly free with the English, were after a while put in jail, sold, &c. Whereupon they concluded, it was best for them to keep at a distance, and have nothing to do with Christians. The method I took in order to remove this difficulty, was, to press the Indians with all possible speed to pay their debts, and to exhort those of them that had skins or money, and were themselves in a good measure free of debt, to help others that were oppressed. And frequently upon such occasions I have paid money out of my own pocket, which I have not as yet received again. These are some of the difficulties I have met with from the conduct of those who, notwithstanding their actions so much tend to hinder the propagation of Christianity, would, I suppose, be loth to be reputed pagans. Thus I have endeavoured to answer the demands of the Honourable Society in relation to each of the particulars mentioned in their letter. If what I have written may be in any measure agreeable and satisfactory to them, and serve to excite in them, or any of God's people, a spirit of prayer and supplication for the furtherance of a work of grace among the Indians here, and the propagation of it to their distant tribes, I shall have abundant reason to rejoice, and bless God in this, as well as in other respects. DAVID BRAINERD. June 20, 1746. P. S. Since the conclusion of the preceding Journal which was designed to represent the operations of one year only, from the first time of my preaching to the Indians in New Jersey I administered the sacrament of the Lord's supper a second time in my congregation, viz. on the 13th of July. At which time there were more than thirty communicants of the Indians, although divers were absent who should have communicated: so considerably has God enlarged our number since the former solemnity of this kind, described somewhat particularly in my Journal. This appeared to be a season of divine power and grace, not unlike the former; a season of refreshing to God's people in general, and of awakening to some others, although the divine influence manifestly attending the several services of the solemnity, seemed not so great and powerful as at the former season. D. BRAINERD. __________________________________________________________________ SECT. VII. Attestations of divine grace displayed among the Indians. FIRST ATTESTATION. Since my dear and reverend brother Brainerd has at length consented to the publication of his Journal, I gladly embrace this opportunity of testifying, that our altogether glorious Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ has given such a display of his almighty power and sovereign grace, not only in the external reformation, but (in a judgment of charity) the saving conversion of a considerable number of Indians, that it is really wonderful to all beholders! though some, alas! notwithstanding sufficient grounds of conviction to the contrary, do join with the devil, that avowed enemy of God and man, in endeavouring to prevent this glorious work, by such ways and means as are mentioned in the aforesaid Journal, to which I must refer the reader for a faithful, though very brief, account of the time when, the place where, the means by which, and manner how, this wished-for work has been begun and carried on, by the great Head of the church. And this I can more confidently do, not only because I am intimately acquainted with the author of the Journal, but on account of my own personal knowledge of the matters of fact recorded in it respecting the work itself. As I live not far from the Indians, I have been much conversant with them, both at their own place, and in my own parish, where they generally convene for public worship in Mr. Brainerd's absence; and I think it my duty to acknowledge, that their conversation hath often, under God, refreshed my soul. To conclude; it is my opinion, that the change wrought in those savages, namely, from the darkness of paganism, to the knowledge of the pure gospel of Christ; from sacrificing to devils, to "present themselves, body and soul, a living sacrifice to God," and that not only from the persuasion of their minister, but from a clear heart-affecting sense of its being their reasonable service: this change, I say, is so great, that none could effect it but he "who worketh all things after the good pleasure of his own will." And I would humbly hope, that this is only the first-fruits of a much greater harvest to be brought in from among the Indians, by him, who has promised to give his Son "the heathen for his inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for his possession;" who hath also declared, "That the whole earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea. Even so, Lord Jesus, come quickly. Amen and Amen." I am, courteous reader, thy soul's well-wisher, WILLIAM TENNENT. Freehold, August 16, 1746. SECOND ATTESTATION. AS it must needs afford a sacred pleasure to such as cordially desire the prosperity and advancement of the Redeemer's kingdom and interest in the world, to hear, that our merciful and gracious God is in very deed fulfilling such precious promises as relate to the poor heathen, by sending his everlasting gospel among them, which, with concurrence of his Holy Spirit, is removing that worse than Egyptian darkness, whereby the God of this world has long held them in willing subjection; so this narrative will perhaps be more acceptable to the world, when it is confirmed by the testimony of such as were either eye-witness of this glorious dawn of gospel-light among the benighted pagans, or personally acquainted with those of them, in whom, in a judgment of charity, a gracious change has been wrought. Therefore I the more willingly join with my brethren, Mr. Wm. Tennent and Mr. Brainerd, in affixing my attestation to the foregoing narrative; and look upon myself as concerned in point of duty both to God and his people to do so, by reason that I live contiguous to their settlement, and have had frequent opportunities of being present at their religious meetings, where I have, with pleasing wonder, beheld what I am strongly inclined to believe were the effects of God's almighty power accompanying his own truths; more especially on the 8th day of August, 1745. While the word of God was preached by Mr. Brainerd, there appeared an uncommon solemnity among the Indians in general; but I am wholly unable to give a full representation of the surprising effects of God's almighty power that appeared among them when public service was over. While Mr. Brainerd urged upon some of them the absolute necessity of a speedy closure with Christ, the Holy Spirit seemed to be poured out upon them in a plenteous measure, insomuch as the Indians present in the wigwam seemed to be brought to the jailer's case, Acts xvi. 30. utterly unable to conceal the distress and perplexity of their souls; this prompted the pious among them to bring the dispersed congregation together, who soon seemed to be in the greatest extremity. Some were earnestly begging for mercy, under a solemn sense of their perishing condition, while others were unable to arise from the earth, to the great wonder of those white people that were present, one of whom is by this means, I trust, savingly brought to Christ since. Nay, so very extraordinary was the concern that appeared among the poor Indians in general, that I am ready to conclude, it might have been sufficient to have convinced an atheist, that the Lord was indeed in the place. I am, for my part, fully persuaded, that this glorious work is true and genuine, whilst with satisfaction I behold several of these Indians discovering all the symptoms of inward holiness in their lives and conversation. I have had the satisfaction of joining with them in their service on the 11th of August, 1746, which was a day set apart for imploring the divine blessing on the labours of their minister among other tribes of the Indians at Susquehannah, in all which they conducted themselves with a very decent and becoming gravity; and, as far as I am capable of judging, they may be proposed as examples of piety and godliness to all the white people around them, which indeed is justly "marvellous in our eyes," especially considering what they lately had been. O may the glorious God shortly bring about that desirable time, when our exalted Immanuel shall have "the heathen given for his inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for his possession!" Crosswicks, August 29, 1746. CHARLES MACNIGHT. THIRD ATTESTATION. We whose names are underwritten, being elders and deacons of the presbyterian church in Freehold, do hereby testify, that in our humble opinion, God, even our Saviour, has brought a considerable number of the Indians in these parts to a saving union with himself. This we are persuaded of, from a personal acquaintance with them, whom we not only hear speak of the great doctrine of the gospel with humility, affection, and understanding, but we see them walk, as far as man can judge, soberly, righteously, and godly. We have joined with them at the Lord's supper, and do from our hearts esteem them as our brethren in Jesus. For "these who were not God's people, may now be called the children of the living God: it is the Lord's doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes." O that he may go on "conquering and to conquer," until he has subdued all things to himself! This is and shall be the unfeigned desires and prayers of Walter Ker,Robert Cummins,David Rhe,John Henderson,John Anderson,Joseph Ker, Elders. William Ker,Samuel Ker,Samuel Craig, Deacons. Presbyterian Church, Freehold, Aug. 16, 1746. __________________________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________________ THIRD APPENDIX TO MR. BRAINERD'S JOURNAL: CONTAINING HIS BRIEF ACCOUNT OF THE ENDEAVOURS USED BY THE MISSIONARIES OF THE SOCIETY IN SCOTLAND FOR PROPAGATING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE, TO INTRODUCE THE GOSPEL AMONG THE INDIANS ON THE BORDERS OF NEW YORK, &C. The deplorable, perishing state of the Indians in these parts of America, being by several ministers here represented to the Society in Scotland for propagating Christian Knowledge; the said Society charitably and cheerfully came into the proposal of maintaining two missionaries among these miserable pagans, to endeavour their conversion "from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God;" and sent their commission to some ministers and other gentlemen here, to act as their correspondents, in providing, directing, and inspecting the said mission. As soon as the correspondents were authorized by the Society's commission, they immediately looked out for two candidates of the evangelical ministry, whose zeal for the interests of the Redeemer's kingdom, and whose compassion for poor perishing souls, would prompt them to such an exceeding difficult and self-denying undertaking. They first prevailed with Mr. Azariah Horton to relinquish a call to an encouraging parish, and to devote himself to the Indian service. He was directed to Long Island, in August 1741, at the east end whereof there are two small towns of the Indians, and from the east to the west end of the island, lesser companies settled at a few miles' distance from one another, for the length of above a hundred miles. At his first coming among these, he was well received by the most, and heartily welcomed by some of them. They at the east end of the island, especially, gave diligent and serious attention to his instructions, and many of them put upon solemn inquiries about "what they should do to be saved." A general reformation of manners was soon observable among the most of these Indians. They were careful to attend, and serious and solemn in attendance, upon both public and private instructions. A number of them were under very deep convictions of their miserable perishing state; and about twenty of them give lasting evidences of their saving conversion to God. Mr. Horton has baptized thirty-five adults, and forty-four children. He took pains with them to teach them to read; and some of them have made considerable proficiency. But the extensiveness of his charge, and the necessity of his travelling from place to place, makes him incapable of giving so constant attendance to their instruction in reading as is needful. In his last letter to the correspondents, he heavily complains of a great defection of some of them, from their first reformation and care of their souls; occasioned by strong drink being brought among them, and their being thereby allured to a relapse into their darling vice of drunkenness. This is a vice to which the Indians are every where so greatly addicted, and so vehemently disposed, that nothing but the power of divine grace can restrain that impetuous lust, when they have opportunity to gratify it. He likewise complains, that some of them are grown more careless and remiss in the duties of religious worship, than they were when first acquainted with the great things of their eternal peace. But as a number retain their first impressions, and as they generally attend with reverence upon his ministry, he goes on in his work, with encouraging hopes of the presence and blessing of God with him in his difficult undertaking. This is a general view of the state of the mission upon Long Island, collected from several of Mr. Horton's letters; which is all that could now be offered, we not having as yet a particular account from Mr. Horton himself. It was some time after Mr. Horton was employed in the Indian service, before the correspondents could obtain another qualified candidate for this self-denying mission. At length they prevailed with Mr. David Brainerd, to refuse several invitations unto places where he had a promising prospect of a comfortable settlement among the English, to encounter the fatigues and perils that must attend his carrying the gospel of Christ to these poor miserable savages. A general representation of whose conduct and success in that undertaking is contained in a letter we lately received from himself, which is as follows: TO THE REV. MR. EBENEZER PEMBERTON. REV. SIR, Since you are pleased to require of me some brief and general account of my conduct in the affair of my mission amongst the Indians; the pains and endeavours I have used to propagate Christian knowledge among them; the difficulties I have met with in pursuance of that great work; and the hopeful and encouraging appearances I have observed in any of them; I shall now endeavour to answer your demands, by giving a brief and faithful account of the most material things relating to that important affair, with which I have been and am still concerned. And this I shall do with more freedom and cheerfulness, both because I apprehend it will be a likely means to give pious persons, who are concerned for the kingdom of Christ, some just apprehension of the many and great difficulties that attend the propagation of it amongst the poor pagans, and consequently, it is hoped, will engage their more frequent and fervent prayers to God, that those may be succeeded who are employed in this arduous work. Beside, I persuade myself, that the tidings of the gospel spreading among the poor heathen, will be, to those who are waiting for the accomplishment of the "glorious things spoken of the city of our God," as "good news from a far country;" and that these will be so far from "despising the day of small things," that, on the contrary, the least dawn of encouragement and hope, in this important affair, will rather inspire their pious breasts with more generous and warm desires, that "the kingdoms of this world may speedily become the kingdoms of our Lord, and of his Christ." I shall therefore immediately proceed to the business before me, and briefly touch upon the most important matters that have concerned my mission, from the beginning to this present time. On March 15, 1743, I waited on the correspondents for the Indian mission at New York; and the week following, attended their meeting at Woodbridge in New Jersey, and was speedily dismissed by them with orders to attempt the instruction of a number of Indians in a place some miles distant from the city of Albany. And on the first day of April following, I arrived among the Indians, at a place called by them Kaunaumeek, in the county of Albany, near about twenty miles distant from the city eastward. The place, as to its situation, was sufficiently lonesome and unpleasant, being encompassed with mountains and woods; twenty miles distant from any English inhabitants; six or seven from any Dutch; and more than two from a family that came, some time since, from the Highlands of Scotland, and had then lived, as I remember, about two years in this wilderness. In this family I lodged about the space of three months, the master of it being the only person with whom I could readily converse in those parts, except my interpreter; others understanding very little English. After I had spent about three months in this situation, I found my distance from the Indians a very great disadvantage to my work among them, and very burdensome to myself; as I was obliged to travel forward and backward almost daily on foot, having no pasture in which I could keep my horse for that purpose. And after all my pains, could not be with the Indians in the evening and morning, which were usually the best hours to find them at home, and when they could best attend my instructions. I therefore resolved to remove, and live with or near the Indians, that I might watch all opportunities, when they were generally at home, and take the advantage of such seasons for their instruction. Accordingly I removed soon after; and, for a time, lived with them in one of their wigwams; and, not long after, built me a small house, where I spent the remainder of that year entirely alone; my interpreter, who was an Indian, choosing rather to live in a wigwam among his own countrymen. This way of living I found attended with many difficulties, and uncomfortable circumstances, in a place where I could get none of the necessaries and common comforts of life, (no, not so much as a morsel of bread,) but what I brought from places fifteen and twenty miles distant, and oftentimes was obliged, for some time together, to content myself without, for want of an opportunity to procure the things I needed. But although the difficulties of this solitary way of living are not the least, or most inconsiderable, (and doubtless are in fact many more and greater to those who experience, than they can readily appear to those, who only view them at a distance,) yet I can truly say, that the burden I felt respecting my great work among the poor Indians, the fear and concern that continually hung upon my spirits, lest they should be prejudiced against Christianity, and their minds imbittered against me, and my labours among them, by means of the insinuations of some who, although they are called Christians, seem to have no concern for Christ's kingdom, but had rather (as their conduct plainly discovers) that the Indians should remain heathens, that they may with the more ease cheat, and so enrich themselves by them, were much more pressing to me, than all the difficulties that attended the circumstances of my living. As to the state or temper of mind, in which I found these Indians, at my first coming among them, I may justly say, it was much more desirable and encouraging than what appears among those who are altogether uncultivated. Their heathenish jealousies and suspicion, and their prejudices against Christianity, were in a great measure removed by the long-continued labours of the Reverend Mr. Sargeant among a number of the same tribe, in a place little more than twenty miles distant. Hence these were, in some good degree, prepared to entertain the truths of Christianity, instead of objecting against them, and appearing almost entirely untractable, as is common with them at first, and as perhaps these appeared a few years ago. Some of them, at least, appeared very well disposed toward religion, and seemed much pleased with my coming among them. In my labours with them, in order "to turn them from darkness to light," I studied what was most plain and easy, and best suited to their capacities; and endeavoured to set before them from time to time, as they were able to receive them, the most important and necessary truths of Christianity; such as most immediately concerned their speedy conversion to God, and such as I judged had the greatest tendency, as means, to effect that glorious change in them. But especially I made it the scope and drift of all my labours, to lead them into a thorough acquaintance with these two things. First, The sinfulness and misery of the estate they were naturally in; the evil of their hearts, the pollution of their natures; the heavy guilt they were under, and their exposedness to everlasting punishment; as also their utter inability to save themselves, either from their sins, or from those miseries which are the just punishment of them; and their unworthiness of any mercy at the hand of God, on account of any thing they themselves could do to procure his favour, and consequently their extreme need of Christ to save them. And, secondly, I frequently endeavoured to open to them the fulness, all-sufficiency, and freeness of that redemption, which the Son of God has wrought out by his obedience and sufferings, for perishing sinners: how this provision he had made, was suited to all their wants; and how he called and invited them to accept of everlasting life freely, notwithstanding all their sinfulness, inability, unworthiness, &c. After I had been with the Indians several months, I composed sundry forms of prayer, adapted to their circumstances and capacities; which, with the help of my interpreter, I translated into the Indian language; and soon learned to pronounce their words, so as to pray with them in their own tongue. I also translated sundry psalms into their language, and soon after we were able to sing in the worship of God. When my people had gained some acquaintance with many of the truths of Christianity, so that they were capable of receiving and understanding many others, which at first could not be taught them, by reason of their ignorance of those that were necessary to be previously known, and upon which others depended; I then gave them an historical account of God's dealings with his ancient professing people the Jews; some of the rites and ceremonies they were obliged to observe, as their sacrifices, &c.; and what these were designed to represent to them: as also some of the surprising miracles God wrought for their salvation, while they trusted in him, and the sore punishments he sometimes brought upon them, when they forsook and sinned against him. Afterwards I proceeded to give them a relation of the birth, life, miracles, sufferings, death, and resurrection of Christ; as well as his ascension, and the wonderful effusion of the Holy Spirit consequent thereupon. And having thus endeavoured to prepare the way by such a general account of things, I next proceeded to read and expound to them the Gospel of St. Matthew (at least the substance of it) in course, wherein they had a more distinct and particular view of what they had before some general notion. These expositions I attended almost every evening, when there was any considerable number of them at home; except when I was obliged to be absent myself, in order to learn the Indian language with the Rev. Mr. Sargeant. Besides these means of instruction, there was likewise an English school constantly kept by my interpreter among the Indians; which I used frequently to visit, in order to give the children and young people some proper instructions, and serious exhortations suited to their age. The degree of knowledge to which some of them attained, was considerable. Many of the truths of Christianity seemed fixed in their minds, especially in some instances, so that they would speak to me of them, and ask such questions about them, as were necessary to render them more plain and clear to their understandings. The children, also, and young people, who attended the school, made considerable proficiency (at least some of them) in their learning; so that had they understood the English language well, they would have been able to read somewhat readily in a psalter. But that which was most of all desirable, and gave me the greatest encouragement amidst many difficulties and disconsolate hours, was, that the truths of God's word seemed, at times, to be attended with some power upon the hearts and consciences of the Indians. And especially this appeared evident in a few instances, who were awakened to some sense of their miserable estate by nature, and appeared solicitous for deliverance from it. Several of them came, of their own accord, to discourse with me about their souls' concerns; and some with tears, inquired "what they should do to be saved?" and whether the God that Christians served, would be merciful to those that had been frequently drunk? &c. And although I cannot say that I have satisfactory evidences of their being "renewed in the spirit of their mind," and savingly converted to God; yet the Spirit of God did, I apprehend, in such a manner attend the means of grace, and so operate upon their minds thereby, as might justly afford matter of encouragement to hope, that God designed good to them, and that he was preparing his way into their souls. There likewise appeared a reformation in the lives and manners of the Indians. Their idolatrous sacrifices (of which there was but one or two, that I know of, after my coming among them) were wholly laid aside. And their heathenish custom of dancing, hallooing, &c. they seemed in a considerable measure to have abandoned. And I could not but hope, that they were reformed in some measure from the sin of drunkenness. They likewise manifested a regard to the Lord's day; and not only behaved soberly themselves, but took care also to keep their children in order. Yet, after all, I must confess, that as there were many hopeful appearances among them, so there were some things more discouraging. And while I rejoiced to observe any seriousness and concern among them about the affairs of their souls, still I was not without continual fear and concern, lest such encouraging appearances might prove "like a morning-cloud, that passeth away." When I had spent near a year with the Indians, I informed them that I expected to leave them in the spring then approaching, and to be sent to another tribe of Indians, at a great distance from them. On hearing this, they appeared very sorrowful, and some of them endeavoured to persuade me to continue with them; urging that they had now heard so much about their souls' concern, that they could never more be willing to live as they had done, without a minister, and further instructions in the way to heaven, &c. Whereupon I told them, they ought to be willing that others also should hear about their souls' concerns, seeing those needed it as much as themselves. Yet further to dissuade me from going, they added, that those Indians, to whom I had thoughts of going, (as they had heard,) were not willing to become Christians as they were, and therefore urged me to tarry with them. I then told them, that they might receive further instructions without me; but the Indians, to whom I expected to be sent, could not, there being no minister near to teach them. And hereupon I advised them, in case I should leave them, and be sent elsewhere, to remove to Stockbridge, where they might be supplied with land, and conveniencies of living, and be under the ministry of the Rev. Mr. Sargeant: with which advice and proposal they seemed disposed to comply. On April 6, 1744, I was ordered and directed by the correspondents for the Indian mission, to take leave of the people, with whom I had then spent a full year, and to go, as soon as conveniently I could, to a tribe of Indians on Delaware river in Pennsylvania. These orders I soon attended, and on April 29th look leave of my people, who were mostly removed to Stockbridge under the care of the Rev. Mr. Sargeant. I then set out on my journey toward Delaware; and on May 10th met with a number of Indians in a place called Minnissinks, about a hundred and forty miles from Kaunaumeek, (the place where I spent the last year,) and directly in my way to Delaware river. With these Indians I spent some time, and first addressed their king in a friendly manner; and after some discourse, and attempts to contract a friendship with him, I told him I had a desire (for his benefit and happiness) to instruct them in Christianity. At which he laughed, turned his back upon me, and went away. I then addressed another principal man in the same manner, who said he was willing to hear me. After some time, I followed the king into his house, and renewed my discourse to him: but he declined talking, and left the affair to another, who appeared to be a rational man. He began, and talked very warmly near a quarter of an hour together: he inquired why I desired the Indians to become Christians, seeing the Christians were so much worse than the Indians are in their present state. The Christians, he said, would lie, steal, and drink, worse than the Indians. It was they first taught the Indians to be drunk: and they stole from one another, to that degree, that their rulers were obliged to hang them for it, and that was not sufficient to deter others from the like practice. But the Indians, he added, were none of them ever hanged for stealing, and yet they did not steal half so much; and he supposed that if the Indians should become Christians, they would then be as bad as these. And hereupon he said, they would live as their fathers lived, and go where their fathers were when they died. I then freely owned, lamented, and joined with him in condemning the ill conduct of some who are called Christians: told him, these were not Christians in heart; that I hated such wicked practices, and did not desire the Indians to become such as these. And when he appeared calmer, I asked him if he was willing: that I should come and see them again? He replied, he should be willing to see me again, as a friend, if I would not desire them to become Christians. I then bid them farewell, and prosecuted my journey toward Delaware. And May 13th I arrived at a place called by the Indians Sakhauwotung, within the Forks of Delaware in Pennsylvania. Here also, when I came to the Indians, I saluted their king, and others, in a manner I thought most engaging. And soon after informed the king of my desire to instruct them in the Christian religion. After he had consulted a few minutes with two or three old men, he told me he was willing to hear. I then preached to those few that were present; who appeared very attentive, and well disposed. And the king in particular seemed both to wonder, and at the same time to be well pleased with what I taught them, respecting the Divine Being, &c. And since that time he has ever shown himself friendly to me, giving me free liberty to preach in his house, whenever I think fit. Here therefore I have spent the greater part of the summer past, preaching usually in the king's house. The number of Indians in this place is but small; most of those that formerly belonged here, are dispersed, and removed to places farther back in the country. There are not more than ten houses hereabouts, that continue to be inhabited; and some of these are several miles distant from others, which makes it difficult for the Indians to meet together so frequently as could be desired. When I first began to preach here, the number of my hearers was very small; often not exceeding twenty or twenty-five persons: but towards the latter part of the summer, their number increased, so that I have frequently had forty persons, or more, at once; and oftentimes most belonging to those parts came together to hear me preach. The effects which the truths of God's word have had upon some of the Indians, in this place, are somewhat encouraging. Sundry of them are brought to renounce idolatry, and to decline partaking of those feasts which they used to offer in sacrifice to certain supposed unknown powers. And some few among them have, for a considerable time, manifested a serious concern for their souls' eternal welfare, and still continue to "inquire the way to Zion," with such diligence, affection, and becoming solicitude, as gives me reason to hope, that "God, who, I trust, has begun this work in them," will carry it on, until it shall issue in their saving conversion to himself. These not only detest their old idolatrous notions, but strive also to bring their friends off from them. And as they are seeking salvation for their own souls, so they seem desirous, and some of them take pains, that others might be excited to do the like. In July last I heard of a number of Indians residing at a place called Kauksesauchung, more than thirty miles westward from the place where I usually preach. I visited them, found about thirty persons, and proposed my desire of preaching to them; they readily complied, and I preached to them only twice, they being just then removing from this place, where they only lived for the present, to Susquehannah river where they belonged. While I was preaching they appeared sober and attentive; and were somewhat surprised, having never before heard of these things. There were two or three who suspected that I had some ill design upon them; and urged, that the white people had abused them, and taken their lands from them, and therefore they had no reason to think that they were now concerned for their happiness; but, on the contrary, that they designed to make them slaves, or get them on board their vessels, and make them fight with the people over the water, (as they expressed it,) meaning the French and Spaniards. However, the most of them appeared very friendly, and told me, they were then going directly home to Susquehannah, and desired I would make them a visit there, and manifested a considerable desire of farther instruction. This invitation gave me some encouragement in my great work; and made me hope, that God designed to "open an effectual door to me" for spreading the gospel among the poor heathen farther westward. In the beginning of October last, with the advice and direction of the correspondents for the Indian mission, I undertook a journey to Susquehannah. And after three days' tedious travel, two of them through a wilderness almost unpassable, by reason of mountains and rocks, and two nights lodging in the open wilderness, I came to an Indian settlement on the side of Susquehannah-river, called Opeholhaupung; where were twelve Indian houses, and (as nigh as I could learn) about seventy souls, old and young, belonging to them. Here also, soon after my arrival, I visited the king, addressing him with expressions of kindness; and after a few words of friendship, informed him of my desire to teach them the knowledge of Christianity. He hesitated not long before he told me, that he was willing to hear. I then preached; and continued there several days, preaching every day, as long as the Indians were at home. And they, in order to hear me, deferred the design of their general hunting (which they were just then entering upon) for the space of three or four days. The men, I think universally (except one) attended my preaching. Only the women, supposing the affair we were upon was of a public nature, belonging only to the men, and not what every individual person should concern himself with, could not readily be persuaded to come and hear: but, after much pains used with them for that purpose, some few ventured to come, and stand at a distance. When I had preached to the Indians several times, some of them very frankly proposed what they had to object against Christianity; and so gave me a fair opportunity for using my best endeavours to remove from their minds those scruples and jealousies they laboured under: and when I had endeavoured to answer their objections, some appeared much satisfied. I then asked the king if he was willing I should visit and preach to them again, if I should live to the next spring? He replied, he should be heartily willing for his own part, and added, he wished the young people would learn, &c. I then put the same question to the rest: some answered, they should be very glad, and none manifested any dislike to it. There were sundry other things in their behaviour, which appeared with a comfortable and encouraging aspect; that, upon the whole, I could not but rejoice I had taken that journey among them, although it was attended with many difficulties and hardships. The method I used with them, and the instructions I gave them, I am persuaded were means, in some measure, to remove their heathenish jealousies, and prejudices against Christianity; and I could not but hope, the God of all grace was preparing their minds to receive "the truth as it is in Jesus." If this may be the happy consequence, I shall not only rejoice in my past labours and fatigues; but shall, I trust, also "be willing to spend and be spent," if I may thereby be instrumental "to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan to God." Thus, Sir, I have given you a faithful account of what has been most considerable respecting my mission among the Indians; in which I have studied all convenient brevity. I shall only now take leave to add a word or two respecting the difficulties that attend the Christianizing of these poor pagans. In the first place, their minds are filled with prejudices against Christianity, on account of the vicious lives and unChristian behaviour of some that are called Christians. These not only set before them the worst examples, but some of them take pains, expressly in words, to dissuade them from becoming Christians; foreseeing, that if these should be converted to God, "the hope of their unlawful gain" would thereby be lost. Again, these poor heathens are extremely attached to the customs, traditions, and fabulous notions of their fathers. And this one seems to be the foundation of all their other notions, viz. that "it was not the same God made them who made the white people," but another, who commanded them to live by hunting, &c. and not conform to the customs of the white people. Hence when they are desired to become Christians, they frequently reply, that "they will live as their fathers lived, and go to their fathers when they die." And if the miracles of Christ and his apostles be mentioned, to prove the truth of Christianity; they also mention sundry miracles, which their fathers have told them were anciently wrought among the Indians, and which Satan makes them believe were so. They are much attached to idolatry; frequently making feasts, which they eat in honour to some unknown beings, who, they suppose, speak to them in dreams; promising them success in hunting, and other affairs, in case they will sacrifice to them. They oftentimes also offer their sacrifices to the spirits of the dead; who, they suppose, stand in need of favours from the living, and yet are in such a state as that they can well reward all the offices of kindness that are shown them. And they impute all their calamities to the neglect of these sacrifices. Furthermore, they are much awed by those among themselves, who are called powows, who are supposed to have a power of enchanting, or poisoning them to death, or at least in a very distressing manner. And they apprehend it would be their sad fate to be thus enchanted, in case they should become Christians. Lastly, The manner of their living is likewise a great disadvantage to the design of their being Christianized. They are almost continually roving from place to place; and it is but rare that an opportunity can be had with some of them for their instruction. There is scarce any time of the year, wherein the men can be found generally at home, except about six weeks before, and in, the season of planting their corn, and about two months in the latter part of summer, from the time they begin to roast their corn, until it is fit to gather in. As to the hardships that necessarily attend a mission among them, the fatigues of frequent journeying in the wilderness, the unpleasantness of a mean and hard way of living, and the great difficulty of addressing "a people of a strange language," these I shall, at present, pass over in silence; designing what I have already said of difficulties attending this work, not for the discouragement of any, but rather for the incitement of all, who "love the appearing and kingdom of Christ," to frequent the throne of grace with earnest supplications, that the heathen, who were anciently promised to Christ "for his inheritance," may now actually and speedily be brought into his kingdom of grace, and made heirs of immortal glory. I am, Sir, Your obedient, humble servant, DAVID BRAINERD From the Forks of Delaware, inPennsylvania, Nov. 5, 1744. P. S. It should have been observed in the preceding account, that although the number of Indians in the place I visited on Susquehannah river, in October last, is but small, yet their numbers in the adjacent places are very considerable; who, it is hoped, might be brought to embrace Christianity by the example of others. But being at present somewhat more savage, and unacquainted with the English, than these I visited, I thought it not best to make my first attempts among them; hoping I might hereafter be better introduced among them by means of these. Sundry of the neighbouring settlements are much larger than this: so that there are, probably, several hundreds of the Indians not many miles distant. D. B. __________________________________________________________________ MR. BRAINERD'S REMAINS, CONSISTING OF LETTERS AND OTHER PAPERS LETTERS TO HIS FRIENDS. __________________________________________________________________ ADVERTISEMENT. Mr. brainerd had a large acquaintance and correspondence, especially in the latter part of his life, and he did much at writing letters to his absent friends; but the most of his acquaintance living at a great distance from me, I have not been able to obtain copies of many that he wrote: however, the greater part of those which I have seen, are such as appear to me of profitable tendency, and worthy of the public view: I have therefore here added a few of his letters. N. B. Several of these which follow, are not published at large, because some parts of them were concerning particular affairs of a private nature. __________________________________________________________________ LETTER I. To his brother John, then a student at Yale college, New Haven. dear brother Kaunaumeek, April 30, 1743. I should tell you, "I long to see you," but that my own experience has taught me, there is no happiness, and plenary satisfaction to be enjoyed, in earthly friends, though ever so near and dear, or in any enjoyment, that is not God himself. Therefore, if the God of all grace would be pleased graciously to afford us each his presence and grace, that we may perform the work, and endure the trials he calls us to, in a most distressing tiresome wilderness, till we arrive at our journey's end; the local distance, at which we are held from each other at the present, is a matter of no great moment or importance to either of us. But, alas! the presence of God is what I want. I live in the most lonely melancholy desert, about eighteen miles from Albany; for it was not thought best that I should go to Delaware river, as I believe I hinted to you in a letter from New York. I board with a poor Scotchman: his wife can talk scarce any English. My diet consists mostly of hasty-pudding, boiled corn, and bread baked in the ashes, and sometimes a little meat and butter. My lodging is a little heap of straw, laid upon some boards, a little way from the ground; for it is a log-room, without any floor, that I lodge in. My work is exceeding hard and difficult: I travel on foot a mile and half, the worst of ways, almost daily, and back again; for I live so far from my Indians. I have not seen an English person this month. These and many other circumstances as uncomfortable attend me; and yet my spiritual conflicts and distresses so far exceed all these, that I scarce think of them, or hardly mind but that I am entertained in the most sumptuous manner. The Lord grant that I may learn to "endure hardness, as a good soldier of Jesus Christ!" As to my success here I cannot say much as yet: the Indians seem generally kind, and well-disposed towards me, and are mostly very attentive to my instructions, and seem willing to be taught further. Two or three, I hope, are under some convictions: but there seems to be little of the special workings of the divine Spirit among them yet; which gives me many a heart-sinking hour. Sometimes I hope, God has abundant blessings in store for them and me; but at other times, I am so overwhelmed with distress that I cannot see how his dealings with me are consistent with covenant love and faithfulness; and I say, "Surely his tender mercies are clean gone for ever. " But however, I see, I needed all this chastisement already: "It is good for me" that I have endured these trials, and have hitherto little or no apparent success. Do not be discouraged by my distresses. I was under great distress, at Mr. Pomroy's, when I saw you last; but "God has been with me of a truth," since that: he helped me sometimes sweetly at Long Island, and elsewhere. But let us always remember, that we must through much tribulation enter into God's eternal kingdom of rest and peace. The righteous are scarcely saved: it is an infinite wonder, that we have well-grounded hopes of being saved at all. For my part, I feel the most vile of any creature living; and I am sure sometimes, there is not such another existing on this side hell. Now all you can do for me, is, to pray incessantly, that God would make me humble, holy, resigned, and heavenly-minded, by all my trials. "Be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might." Let us run, wrestle, and fight that we may win the prize, and obtain that complete happiness, to be "holy, as God is holy." So wishing and praying that you may advance in learning and grace, and be fit for special service for God, I remain Your affectionate brother, DAVID BRAINERD. __________________________________________________________________ LETTER II. To his brother John, at Yale college, New Haven. dear brother Kaunaumeek, Dec. 27, 1743. I long to see you, and know how you fare in your journey through a world of inexpressible sorrow, where we are compassed about with "vanity, confusion, and vexation of spirit." I am more weary of life, I think, than ever I was. The whole world appears to me like a huge vacuum, a vast empty space, whence nothing desirable, or at least satisfactory, can possibly be derived; and I long daily to die more and more to it; even though I obtain not that comfort from spiritual things which I earnestly desire. Worldly pleasures, such as flow from greatness, riches, honours, and sensual gratifications, are infinitely worse than none. May the Lord deliver us more and more from these vanities! I have spent most of the fall and winter hitherto in a weak state of body; and sometimes under pressing inward trials, and spiritual conflicts: but "having obtained help from God, I continue to this day;" and am now something better in health than I was some time ago. I find nothing more conducive to a life of Christianity, than a diligent, industrious, and faithful improvement of precious time. Let us then faithfully perform that business, which is allotted to us by Divine Providence, to the utmost of our bodily strength and mental vigour. Why should we sink, and grow discouraged, with any particular trials and perplexities we are called to encounter in the world? Death and eternity are just before us; a few tossing billows more will waft us into the world of spirits, and we hope, through infinite grace, into endless pleasures, and uninterrupted rest and peace. Let us then "run with patience the race set before us," Heb. xii. 1, 2. And oh that we could depend more upon the living God, and less upon our own wisdom and strength! Dear brother, may the God of all grace comfort your heart, and succeed your studies, and make you an instrument of good to his people in your day. This is the constant prayer of Your affectionate brother, DAVID BRAINERD. __________________________________________________________________ LETTER III. To his brother Israel, at Haddam. dear brother Kaunaumeek, Jan. 21, 1743-4.. There is but one thing that deserves our highest care and most ardent desires; and that is, that we may answer the great end for which we were made, viz. to glorify that God, who has given us our beings and all our comforts, and do all the good we possibly can to our fellow-men, while we live in the world: and verily life is not worth the having, if it be not improved for this noble end and purpose. Yet, alas, how little is this thought of among mankind! Most men seem to live to themselves, without much regard to the glory of God, or the good of their fellow-creatures. They earnestly desire and eagerly pursue after the riches, the honours, and the pleasures of life, as if they really supposed, that wealth, or greatness, or merriment, could make their immortal souls happy. But, alas, what false and delusive dreams are these! And how miserable will those ere long be, who are not awaked out of them, to see, that all their happiness consists in living to God, and becoming "holy, as he is holy!" Oh, may you never fall into the tempers and vanities, the sensuality and folly, of the present world! You are, by Divine Providence, left as it were alone in a wide world, to act for yourself: be sure then to remember, it is a world of temptation. You have no earthly parents to be the means of forming your youth to piety and virtue, by their pious examples, and seasonable counsels; let this then excite you with greater diligence and fervency to look up to the Father of mercies for grace and assistance against all the vanities of the world. And if you would glorify God, or answer his just expectations from you, and make your own soul happy in this and the coming world, observe these few directions; though not from a father, yet from a brother who is touched with a tender concern for your present and future happiness. And, First, Resolve upon, and daily endeavour to practise, a life of seriousness and strict sobriety. The wise man will tell you the great advantage of such a life, Eccl. vii. 3. Think of the life of Christ; and when you can find that he was pleased with jesting and vain merriment, then you may indulge it in yourself. Again, Be careful to make a good improvement of precious time. When you cease from labour, fill up your time in reading, meditation, and prayer: and while your hands are labouring, let your heart be employed, as much as possible, in divine thoughts. Further, Take heed that you faithfully perform the business you have to do in the world; from a regard to the commands of God; and not from an ambitious desire of being esteemed better than others. We should always look upon ourselves as God's servants, placed in God's world, to do his work; and accordingly labour faithfully for him; not with a design to grow rich and great, but to glorify God, and do all the good we possibly can. Again, Never expect any satisfaction or happiness from the world. If you hope for happiness in the world, hope for it from God, and not from the world. Do not think you shall be more happy if you live to such or such a state of life, if you live to be for yourself, to be settled in the world, or if you should gain an estate in it: but look upon it that you shall then be happy when you can be constantly employed for God, and not for yourself; and desire to live in this world, only to do and suffer what God allots to you. When you can be of the spirit and temper of angels who are willing to come down into this lower world to perform what God commands them, though their desires are heavenly, and not in the least set on earthly things, then you will be of that temper that you ought to have, Col. iii. 2. Once more, Never think that you can live to God by you own power or strength; but always look to and rely on him for assistance, yea, for all strength and grace. There is no greater truth than this, that "we can do nothing of ourselves," (John xv. 5. and 2 Cor. iii. 5.) yet nothing but our own experience can effectually teach it us. Indeed we are a long time in learning, that all our strength and salvation is in God. This is a life that I think no unconverted man can possibly live; and yet it is a life that every godly soul is pressing after in some good measure. Let it then be your great concern, thus to devote yourself and your all to God. I long to see you, that I may say much more to you than I now can for your benefit and welfare; but I desire to commit you to, and leave you with, the Father of mercies, and God of all grace; praying that you may be directed safely through an evil world to God's heavenly kingdom. I am your affectionate loving brother, DAVID BRAINERD. __________________________________________________________________ LETTER IV. To a special friend. The Forks of Delaware, July 31, 1744. Certainly the greatest, the noblest pleasure of intelligent creatures must result from their acquaintance with the blessed God, and with their own rational and immortal souls. And oh how divinely sweet and entertaining is it to look into our own souls, when we can find all our powers and passions united and engaged in pursuit after God, our whole souls longing and passionately breathing after a conformity to him, and the full enjoyment of him! Verily there are no hours pass away with so much divine pleasure, as those that are spent in communing with God and our own hearts. Oh how sweet is a spirit of devotion, a spirit of seriousness and divine solemnity, a spirit of gospel simplicity, love, and tenderness! Oh how desirable, and how profitable to the Christian life, is a spirit of holy watchfulness and godly jealousy over ourselves; when our souls are afraid of nothing so much as that we shall grieve and offend the blessed God, whom at such times we apprehend, or at least hope, to be a father and friend; whom we then love and long to please, rather than to be happy ourselves, or at least we delight to derive our happiness from pleasing and glorifying him! Surely this is a pious temper, worthy of the highest ambition and closest pursuit of intelligent creatures and holy Christians. Oh how vastly superior is the pleasure, peace, and satisfaction derived from these divine frames, to that which we, alas! sometimes pursue in things impertinent and trifling! Our own bitter experience teaches us, that "in the midst of such laughter the heart is sorrowful," and there is no true satisfaction but in God. But, alas! how shall we obtain and retain this sweet spirit of religion and devotion? Let us follow the apostle's direction, Phil. ii. 12. and labour upon the encouragement he there mentions, ver. 13. for it is God only can afford us this favour; and he will be sought to, and it is fit we should wait upon him, for so rich a mercy. Oh, may the God of all grace afford us the grace and influences of his divine Spirit; and help us that we may from our hearts esteem it our greatest liberty and happiness, that "whether we live, we may live to the Lord, or whether we die, we may die to the Lord; that in life and death we may be his! I am in a very poor state of health; I think scarce ever poorer: but through divine goodness I am not discontented under my weakness and confinement to this wilderness. I bless God for this retirement: I never was more thankful for any thing than I have been of late for the necessity I am under of self-denial in many respects. I love to be a pilgrim and stranger in this wilderness: it seems most fit for such a poor ignorant, worthless, despised creature as I. I would not change my present mission for any other business in the whole world. I may tell you freely, without vanity and ostentation, God has of late given me great freedom and fervency in prayer, when I have been so weak and feeble that my nature seemed as if it would speedily dissolve. I feel as if my all was lost, and I was undone for this world, if the poor heathen may not be converted. I feel, in general, different from what I did when I saw you last; at least more crucified to all the enjoyments of life. It would be very refreshing to me to see you here in this desert; especially in my weak disconsolate hours: but I think I could be content never to see you or any of my friends again in this world, if God would bless my labours here to the conversion of the poor Indians. I have much that I could willingly communicate to you, which I must omit, till Providence gives us leave to see each other. In the mean time, I rest Your obliged friend and servant, DAVID BRAINERD. __________________________________________________________________ LETTER V. To a special friend, a minister of the gospel in New Jersey. The Forks of Delaware, Dec. 24 1744. REV. AND DEAR BROTHER, I have little to say to you about spiritual joys, and those blessed refreshments and divine consolations, with which I have been much favoured in times past: but this I can tell you, that if I gain experience in no other point, yet I am sure I do in this, viz. that the present world has nothing in it to satisfy an immortal soul: and hence, that it is not to be desired for itself, but only because God may be seen and served in it. And I wish I could be more patient and willing to live in it for this end, than I can usually find myself to be. It is no virtue I know to desire death, only to be freed from the miseries of life: but I want that divine hope which you observed when I saw you last, was the very sinews of vital religion. Earth can do us no good; and if there be no hope of our doing good on earth, how can we desire to live in it? And yet we ought to desire, or at least to be resigned, to tarry in it; because it is the will of our all-wise Sovereign. But perhaps these thoughts will appear melancholy and gloomy, and consequently will be very undesirable to you; and therefore I forbear to add. I wish you may not read them in the same circumstances in which I write them. I have a little more to do and suffer in a dark disconsolate world; and then I hope to be as happy as you are. I should ask you to pray for me were I worth your concern. May the Lord enable us both to "endure hardness as good soldiers of Jesus Christ;" and may we "obtain mercy of God to be faithful to the death," in the discharge of our respective trusts! I am your very unworthy brother, And humble servant, DAVID BRAINERD. __________________________________________________________________ LETTER VI. To his brother John, at college. Crossweeksung, New Jersey, Dec. 28, 1745. VERY DEAR BROTHER, I am in one continued, perpetual, and uninterrupted hurry; and Divine Providence throws so much upon me that I do not see it will ever be otherwise. May I "obtain mercy of God to be faithful to the death!" I cannot say I am weary of my hurry; I only want strength and grace to do more for God than I have ever yet done. My dear brother; The Lord of heaven, that has carried me through many trials, bless you; bless you for time, and eternity; and fit you to do service for him in his church below, and to enjoy his blissful presence in his church triumphant. My brother; "the time is short:" oh let us fill it up for God; let us "count the sufferings of this present time" as nothing, if we can but "run our race, and finish our course with joy." Oh, let us strive to live to God. I bless the Lord, I have nothing to do with earth, but only to labour honestly in it for God, till I shall "accomplish as an hireling my day." I think I do not desire to live one minute for any thing that earth can afford. Oh, that I could live for none but God, till my dying moment! I am your affectionate brother, DAVID BRAINERD. __________________________________________________________________ LETTER VII. To his brother Israel, then a student at Yale college, New Haven. Elizabeth-town, New Jersey, Nov. 24, 1746. DEAR BROTHER, I had determined to make you and my other friends in New England a visit this fall: partly from an earnest desire I had to see you and them, and partly with a view to the recovery of my health; which has, for more than three months past, been much impaired. And in order to prosecute this design, I set out from my own people about three weeks ago, and came as far as to this place; where, my disorder greatly increasing, I have been obliged to keep house ever since, until the day before yesterday; at which time I was able to ride about half a mile, but found myself much tired with the journey. I have now no hopes of prosecuting my journey into New England this winter; my present state of health will by no means admit of it. Although I am, through divine goodness, much better than I was some days ago; yet I have not strength now to ride more than ten miles a day, if the season were warm, and fit for me to travel in. My disorder has been attended with several symptoms of a consumption; and I have been at times apprehensive that my great change was at hand: yet blessed be God, I have never been affrighted; but, on the contrary, at times much delighted with a view of its approach. Oh, the blessedness of being delivered from the clogs of flesh and sense, from a body of sin and spiritual death! Oh, the unspeakable sweetness of being translated into a state of complete purity and perfection! Believe me, my brother, a lively view and hope of these things, will make the king of terrors himself appear agreeable. Dear brother, let me entreat you to keep eternity in your view, and behave yourself as becomes one that must shortly "give an account of all things done in the body." That God may be your God, and prepare you for his service here, and his kingdom of glory hereafter, is the desire and daily prayer of Your affectionate loving brother, DAVID BRAINERD. __________________________________________________________________ LETTER VIII. To his brother Israel, at college: written in the time of his extreme illness in Boston, a few months before his death. MY DEAR BROTHER, Boston, June 30, 1747. It is from the sides of eternity I now address you. I am heartily sorry that I have so little strength to write what I long so much to communicate to you. But let me tell you, my brother, eternity is another thing than we ordinarily take it to be in a healthful state. Oh, how vast and boundless! Oh, how fixed and unalterable! Oh, of what infinite importance is it, that we be prepared for eternity! I have been just a dying now for more than a week; and all around me have thought me so. I have had clear views of eternity; have seen the blessedness of the godly, in some measure; and have longed to share their happy state; as well as been comfortably satisfied, that through grace I shall do so: but oh, what anguish is raised in my mind, to think of an eternity for those who are Christless, for those who are mistaken, and who bring their false hopes to the grave with them! The sight was so dreadful I could by no means bear it: my thoughts recoiled, and I said, (under a more affecting sense than ever before,) "Who can dwell with everlasting burnings?" Oh, methought, could I now see my friends, that I might warn them to see to it, that they lay their foundation for eternity sure. And you, my dear brother, I have been particularly concerned for; and have wondered I so much neglected conversing with you about your spiritual state at our last meeting. Oh, my brother, let me then beseech you now to examine, whether you are indeed a new creature? whether you have ever acted above self? whether the glory of God has ever been the sweetest and highest concern with you? whether you have ever been reconciled to all the perfections of God? in a word, whether God has been your portion, and a holy conformity to him your chief delight? If you cannot answer positively, consider seriously the frequent breathings of your soul: but do not however put yourself off with a slight answer. If you have reason to think you are graceless, oh give yourself and the throne of grace no rest, till God arise and save. But if the case should be otherwise, bless God for his grace, and press after holiness. [430] My soul longs that you should be fitted for, and in due time go into, the work of the ministry. I cannot bear to think of your going into any other business in life. Do not be discouraged, because you see your elder brothers in the ministry die early, one after another. I declare, now I am dying, I would not have spent my life otherwise for the whole world. But I must leave this with God. If this line should come to your hands soon after the date, I should be almost desirous you should set out on a journey to me: it may be, you may see me alive; which I should much rejoice in. But if you cannot come, I must commit you to the grace of God, where you are. May he be your guide and counsellor, your sanctifier and eternal portion! Oh, my dear brother, flee fleshly lusts, and the enchanting amusements, as well as corrupt doctrine, of the present day; and strive to live to God. Take this as the last line from Your affectionate dying brother, DAVID BRAINERD. __________________________________________________________________ [430] Mr. Brainerd afterwards had greater satisfaction concerning the state of his brother's soul, by much opportunity of conversation with him before his death. __________________________________________________________________ LETTER IX. To a young gentleman, a candidate for the work of the ministry, for whom he had a special friendship; also written at the same time of his great illness and nearness to death in Boston. VERY DEAR SIR, How amazing it is, that the living who know they must die, should notwithstanding "put far away the evil day," in a season of health and prosperity; and live at such an awful distance from a familiarity with the grave, and the great concerns beyond it! and especially it may justly fill us with surprise, that any whose minds have been divinely enlightened, to behold the important things of eternity as they are, I say, that such should live in this manner. And yet, Sir, how frequently is this the case! how rare are the instances of those who live and act from day to day, as on the verge of eternity; striving to fill up all their remaining moments in the service and to the honour of their great Master! We insensibly trifle away time, while we seem to have enough of it; and are so strangely amused, as in a great measure to lose a sense of the holiness and blessed qualifications necessary to prepare us to be inhabitants of the heavenly paradise. But oh, dear Sir, a dying bed, if we enjoy our reason clearly, will give another view of things. I have now, for more than three weeks, lain under the greatest degree of weakness; the greater part of the time, expecting daily and hourly to enter into the eternal world: sometimes have been so far gone, as to be wholly speechless, for some hours together. And oh, of what vast importance has a holy spiritual life appeared to me to be at this season! I have longed to call upon all my friends, to make it their business to live to God; and especially all that are designed for, or engaged in, the service of the sanctuary. O, dear Sir, do not think it enough to live at the rate of common Christians. Alas, to how little purpose do they often converse, when they meet together! The visits even of those who are called Christians indeed, are frequently extremely barren; and conscience cannot but condemn us for the misimprovement of time, while we have been conversant with them. But the way to enjoy the divine presence, and be fitted for distinguishing service for God, is to live a life of great devotion and constant self-dedication to him; observing the motions and dispositions of our own hearts, whence we may learn the corruptions that lodge there, and our constant need of help from God for the performance of the least duty. And oh, dear Sir, let me beseech you frequently to attend the great and precious duties of secret fasting and prayer. I have a secret thought from some things I have observed, that God may perhaps design you for some singular service in the world. On then labour to be prepared and qualified to do much for God. Read Mr. Edwards's piece on the affections, again and again; and labour to distinguish clearly upon experiences and affections in religion, that you may make a difference between the gold and the shining dross. I say, labour here, if ever you would be a useful minister of Christ; for nothing has put such a stop to the work of God in the late day as the false religion, and the wild affections that attend it. Suffer me therefore, finally, to entreat you earnestly to "give yourself to prayer, to reading and meditation" on divine truths: strive to penetrate to the bottom of them, and never be content with a superficial knowledge. By this means, your thoughts will gradually grow weighty and judicious; and you hereby will be possessed of a valuable treasure, out of which you may produce "things new and old," to the glory of God. And now, "I commend you to the grace of God;" earnestly desiring that a plentiful portion of the divine Spirit may rest upon you; that you may live to God in every capacity of life, and do abundant service for him in a public one, if it be his will; and that you may be richly qualified for the "inheritance of the saints in light." I scarce expect to see your face any more in the body; and therefore entreat you to accept this as the last token of love, from Your sincerely affectionate dying friend, DAVID BRAINERD. P. S. I am now, at the dating of this letter, considerably recovered from what I was when I wrote it; it having lain by me some time, for want of an opportunity of conveyance; it was written in Boston. I am now able to ride a little, and so am removed into the country: but have no more expectation of recovering than when I wrote, though I am a little better for the present; and therefore I still subscribe myself, Your dying friend, &c. D. B. __________________________________________________________________ LETTER X. To his brother John, at Bethel, the town of Christian Indians in New Jersey; written likewise at Boston, when he was there on the brink of the grave, in the summer before his death. dear brother, I am now just on the verge of eternity, expecting very speedily to appear in the unseen world. I feel myself no more an inhabitant of earth, and sometimes earnestly long to "depart and be with Christ." I bless God, he has for some years given me an abiding conviction, that it is impossible for any rational creature to enjoy true happiness without being entirely "devoted to him." Under the influence of this conviction I have in some measure acted. Oh that I had done more so! I saw both the excellency and necessity of holiness in life; but never in such a manner as now, when I am just brought to the sides of the grave. Oh, my brother, pursue after holiness; press towards this blessed mark; and let your thirsty soul continually say, "I shall never be satisfied till I awake in thy likeness." Although there has been a great deal of selfishness in my views; of which I am ashamed, and for which my soul is humbled at every view; yet, blessed be God, I find I have really had, for the most part, such a concern for his glory, and the advancement of his kingdom in the world, that it is a satisfaction to me to reflect upon these years. And now, my dear brother, as I must press you to pursue after personal holiness, to be as much in fasting and prayer as your health will allow, and to live above the rate of common Christians; so I must entreat you solemnly to attend to your public work; labour to distinguish between true and false religion; and to that end, watch the motions of God's Spirit upon your own heart. Look to him for help; and impartially compare your experiences with his word. Read Mr. Edwards on the Affections, where the essence and soul of religion is clearly distinguished from false affections. [431] Value religious joys according to the subject mutter of them: there are many who rejoice in their supposed justification; but what do these joys argue, but only that they love themselves? Whereas, in true spiritual joys the soul rejoices in God for what he is in himself; blesses God for his holiness, sovereignty, power, faithfulness, and all his perfections; adores God that he is what he is, that he is unchangeably possessed of infinite glory and happiness. Now when men thus rejoice in the perfections of God, and in the infinite excellency of the way of salvation by Christ, and in the holy commands of God, which are a transcript of his holy nature; these joys are divine and spiritual. Our joys will stand by us at the hour of death, if we can be then satisfied that we have thus acted above self; and in a disinterested manner, if I may so express it, rejoiced in the glory of the blessed God. I fear you are not sufficiently aware how much false religion there is in the world; many serious Christians and valuable ministers are too easily imposed upon by this false blaze. I likewise fear, you are not sensible of the dreadful effects and consequences of this false religion. Let me tell you, it is the devil transformed into an angel of light; it is a brat of hell, that always springs up with every revival of religion, and stabs and murders the cause of God, while it passes current with multitudes of well-meaning people for the height of religion. Set yourself, my brother, to crush all appearances of this nature among the Indians, and never encourage any degrees of heat without light. Charge my people in the name of their dying minister, yea, in the name of him who was dead and is alive, to live and walk as becomes the gospel. Tell them, how great the expectations of God and his people are from them, and now awfully they will wound God's cause, if they fall into vice; as well as fatally prejudice other poor Indians. Always insist, that their experiences are rotten, that their joys are delusive, although they may have been rapt up into the third heavens in their own conceit by them, unless the main tenour of their lives be spiritual, watchful, and holy. In pressing these things, "thou shalt both save thyself, and those that hear thee. " God knows, I was heartily willing to have served him longer in the work of the ministry, although it had still been attended with all the labours and hardships of past years, if he had seen fit that it should be so: but as his will now appears otherwise, I am fully content, and can with utmost freedom say, "The will of the Lord be done." It affects me to think of leaving you in a world of sin: my heart pities you, that those storms and tempests are yet before you, which I trust, through grace, I am almost delivered from. But "God lives, and blessed be my Rock:" he is the same Almighty Friend: and will, I trust, be your guide and helper, as he has been mine. And now, my dear brother, "I commend you to God, and to the word of his grace, which is able to build you up, and give you inheritance among all them that are sanctified. May you enjoy the divine presence both in private and public; and may "the arms of your hands be made strong, by the right hand of the mighty God of Jacob!" Which are the passionate desires and prayers of Your affectionate dying brother, DAVID BRAINERD. __________________________________________________________________ [431] I had at first fully intended, in publishing this and the foregoing letters, to have suppressed these passages wherein my name is mentioned, and my Discourse on Religious Affections recommended: and am sensible, that by my doing otherwise, I shall bring upon me the reproach of some. But how much soever I may be pleased with the commendation of any performance of mine, (and I confess, I esteem the judgment and approbation of such as Mr. Brainerd worthy to be valued, and look on myself as highly honoured by it. ) yet I can truly say, things that governed me is altering my forementioned determinations with respect to these passages, were these two. (1. ) What Mr. Brainerd here says of that discourse, shows very fully and particularly what his notions were of experimental religion, and the nature of true piety, and how far he was from placing it in impressions on the imagination, or any enthusiastical impulses, and how essential in religion he esteemed holy practice, &c. &c. For all that have read that discourse, know what sentiments are there expressed concerning those things. (2. ) I judged, that the approbation of so apparent and eminent a friend and example of inward vital religion, and evangelical piety in the height of it, would probably tend to make that book more serviceable; especially among some kinds of zealous persons, whose benefit was especially aimed at in the book; some of which are prejudiced against it, as written in too legal a strain, and opposing some things wherein the height of Christian experience consists, and tending to build men upon their own works. __________________________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________________ DETACHED PAPERS. __________________________________________________________________ FIRST PAPER. A scheme of a dialogue between the various powers and affections of the mind, as they are found alternately whispering in the godly soul. Mentioned in his diary, Feb. 3, 1744. The understanding introduced, (1.) As discovering its own excellency, and capacity of enjoying the most sublime pleasure and happiness. (2.) As observing its desire equal to its capacity, and incapable of being satisfied with any thing that will not fill it in the utmost extent of its exercise. (3.) As finding itself a dependent thing, not self-sufficient; and consequently unable to spin happiness (as the spider spins its web) out of its own bowels. This self-sufficiency observed to be the property and prerogative of God alone, and not belonging to any created being. (4.) As in vain seeking sublime pleasure, satisfaction, and happiness adequate to its nature, amongst created beings. The search and knowledge of the truth in the natural world allowed indeed to be refreshing to the mind; but still failing to afford complete happiness. (5.) As discovering the excellency and glory of God, that he is the fountain of goodness, and well-spring of happiness, and every way fit to answer the enlarged desires and cravings of our immortal souls. 2. The will introduced, as necessarily, yet freely, choosing this God for its supreme happiness and only portion, fully complying with the understanding's dictates, acquiescing in God as the best good, his will as the best rule for intelligent creatures, and rejoicing that God is in every respect just what he is; and withal choosing and delighting to be a dependent creature, always subject to this God, not aspiring after self-sufficiency and supremacy, but acquiescing in the contrary. 3. Ardent love or desire introduced, as passionately longing to please and glorify the Divine Being, to be in every respect conformed to him, and in that way to enjoy him. This love or desire represented as most genuine; not induced by mean and mercenary views; not primarily springing from selfish hopes of salvation, whereby the divine glories would be sacrificed to the idol self: not arising from a slavish fear of divine anger in case of neglect, nor yet from hopes of feeling the sweetness of that tender and pleasant passion of love in one's own breast; but from a just esteem of the beauteous object beloved. This love further represented, as attended with vehement longings after the enjoyment of its object, but unable to find by what means. 4. The understanding again introduced, as informing, (1.) How God might have been enjoyed, yea, how he must necessarily have been enjoyed, had not man sinned against him; that as there was knowledge, likeness, and love, so there must needs be enjoyment, while there was no impediment. (2.) How he may be enjoyed in some measure now, viz. by the same knowledge, begetting likeness and love, which will be answered with returns of love, and the smiles of God's countenance, which are better than life. (3.) How God may be perfectly enjoyed, viz. by the soul's perfect freedom from sin. This perfect freedom never obtained till death; and then not by any unaccountable means, or in any unheard-of manner; but the same by which it has obtained some likeness to and fruition of God in this world, viz. a clear manifestation of him. 5. Holy desire appears, and inquires why the soul may not be perfectly holy; and so perfect in the enjoyment of God here; and expresses most insatiable thirstings after such a temper, and such fruition, and most consummate blessedness. 6. Understanding again appears, and informs, that God designs that those whom he sanctifies in part here, and intends for immortal glory, shall tarry a while in this present evil world, that their own experience of temptations, &c. may teach them how great the deliverance is, which God has wrought for them, that they may be swallowed up in thankfulness and admiration to eternity; as also that they may be instrumental of doing good to their fellow-men. Now if they were perfectly holy, &c. a world of sin would not be a fit habitation for them: and further, such manifestations of God as are necessary completely to sanctify the soul, would be insupportable to the body, so that we cannot see God and live. 7. Holy impatience* is next introduced, complaining of the sins and sorrows of life, and almost repining at the distance of a state of perfection, uneasy to see and feel the hours hang so dull and heavy, and almost concluding that the temptations, hardships, disappointments, imperfections, and tedious employments of life will never come to a happy period. 8. Tender conscience comes in, and meekly reproves the complaints of impatience; urging how careful and watchful we ought to be, lest we should offend the Divine Being with complaints; alleging also the fitness of our waiting patiently upon God for all we want, and that in a way of doing and suffering; and at the same time mentioning the barrenness of the soul, how much precious time is misimproved, and how little it has enjoyed of God, compared with what it might have done; as also suggesting how frequently impatient complaints spring from nothing better than self-love, want of resignation, and a greater reverence of the Divine Being. 9. Judgment or sound mind next appears, and duly weighs the complaints of impatience, and the gentle admonitions of tender conscience, and impartially determines between them. On the one hand, it concludes, that we may always be impatient with sin; and supposes, that we may be also with such sorrow, pain, and discouragement, as hinder our pursuit of holiness, though they arise from the weakness of nature. It allows us to be impatient of the distance at which we stand from a state of perfection and blessedness. It further indulges impatience at the delay of time; when we desire the period of it for no other end, than that we may with angels be employed in the most lively spiritual acts of devotion, and in giving all possible glory to him that lives for ever. Temptations and sinful imperfections, it thinks, we may justly be uneasy with; and disappointments, at least those that relate to our hopes of communion with God, and growing conformity to him. And as to the tedious employments and hardships of life, it supposes some longing for the end of them not inconsistent with a spirit of faithfulness, and a cheerful disposition to perform the one and endure the other: it supposes, that a faithful servant, who fully designs to do all he possibly can, may still justly long for the evening; and that no rational man would blame his kind and tender spouse, if he perceived her longing to be with him, while yet faithfulness and duty to him might still induce her to yield, for the present, to remain at a painful distance from him. On the other hand, it approves of the caution, care, and watchfulness of tender conscience, lest the Divine Being should be offended with impatient complaints; it acknowledges the fitness of our waiting upon God, in a way of patient doing and suffering; but supposes this very consistent with ardent desires to depart, and to be with Christ. It owns it fit that we should always remember our own barrenness, and thinks also that we should be impatient of it, and consequently long for a state of freedom from it; and this, not so much that we may feel the happiness of it, but that God may have the glory. It grants, that impatient complaints often spring from self-love, and want of resignation and humility. Such as these it disapproves; and determines, we should be impatient only of absence from God, and distance from that state and temper wherein we may most glorify him. 10. Godly sorrow introduced, as making her sad moan, not so much that she is kept from the free possession and full enjoyment of happiness, but that God must be dishonoured; the soul being still in a world of sin, and itself imperfect. She here, with grief, counts over past faults, present temptations, and fears from the future. 11. Hope or holy confidence appears, and seems persuaded that "nothing shall ever separate the soul from the love of God in Christ Jesus." It expects divine assistance and grace sufficient for all the doing and suffering work of time, and that death will ere long put a happy period to all sin and sorrow; and so takes occasion to rejoice. 12. Godly fear, or holy jealousy, here steps in, and suggests some timorous apprehensions of the danger of deception; mentions the deceitfulness of the heart, the great influence of irregular self-love in a fallen creature; inquires whether itself is not likely to have fallen in with delusion, since the mind is so dark, and so little of God appears to the soul; and queries whether all its hopes of persevering grace may not be presumption, and whether its confident expectations of meeting death as a friend, may not issue in disappointment. 13. Hereupon reflection appears, and minds the person of his past experiences; as to the preparatory work of conviction and humiliation; the view he then had of the impossibility of salvation from himself, or any created arm: the manifestation he has likewise had of the glory of God in Jesus Christ: how he then admired that glory, and chose that God for his only portion, because of the excellency and amiableness he discovered in him; not from slavish fear of being damned if he did not, nor from base and mercenary hopes of saving himself; but from a just esteem of that beauteous and glorious object: as also how he had from time to time rejoiced and acquiesced in God, for what he is in himself; being delighted, that he is infinite in holiness, justice, power, sovereignty, as well as in mercy, goodness, and love: how he has likewise, scores of times, felt his soul mourn for sin, for this very reason, because it is contrary and grievous to God; yea, how he has mourned over one vain and impertinent thought, when he has been so far from fear of the divine vindictive wrath for it, that on the contrary he has enjoyed the highest assurance of the divine everlasting love: how he has, from time to time, delighted in the commands of God, for their own purity and perfection, and longed exceedingly to be conformed to them, and even to be "holy, as God is holy;" and counted it present heaven, to be of a heavenly temper: how he has frequently rejoiced, to think of being for ever subject to and dependent on God; accounting it infinitely greater happiness to glorify God in a state of subjection to and dependence on him, than to be a god himself: and how heaven itself would be no heaven to him, if he could not there be every thing that God would have him be. 14. Upon this, spiritual sensation, being awaked, comes in, and declares that she now feels and "tastes that the Lord is gracious;" that he is the only supreme good, the only soul-satisfying happiness; that he is a complete, self-sufficient, and almighty portion. She whispers, "Whom have I in heaven but this God," this dear and blessed portion? "and there is none upon earth I desire besides him." Oh, it is heaven to please him, and to be just what he would have me be! O that my soul were "holy, as God is holy!" O that it was "pure, as Christ is pure;" and "perfect, as my Father in heaven is perfect!" These are the sweetest commands in God's book, comprising all others; and shall I break them? must I break them? am I under a fatal necessity of it, as long as I live in this world? O, my soul! woe, woe is me, that I am a sinner! because I now necessarily grieve and offend this blessed God, who is infinite in goodness and grace. Oh, me-thinks, should he punish me for my sins, it would not wound my heart so deep as to offend him; but, though I sin continually, he continually repeats his kindness towards me! Oh, methinks, I could bear any suffering; but how can I bear to grieve and dishonour this blessed God! How shall I give ten thousand times more honour to him? What shall I do, to glorify and worship this best of beings? O that I could consecrate myself, soul and body, to his service for ever! O that I could give up myself to him, so as never more to attempt to be my own, or to have any will or affections that are not perfectly conformed to his! But oh, alas, alas! I cannot, I feel I cannot be thus entirely devoted to God: I cannot live and sin not. O ye angels, do ye glorify him incessantly: if possible, exert yourselves still more, in more lively and ardent devotion: if possible, prostrate yourselves still lower before the throne of the blessed King of heaven: I long to bear a part with you, and, if it were possible, to help you. Yet when we have done, we shall not be able to offer the ten thousandth part of the homage he is worthy of. While spiritual sensation whispered these things, fear and jealousy were greatly overcome; and the soul replied, "Now I know, and am assured," &c. and again, it welcomed death as a friend, saying, "O death, where is thy sting!" &c. 15. Finally, holy resolution concludes the discourse, fixedly determining to follow hard after God, and continually to pursue a life of conformity to him. And the better to pursue this, enjoining it on the soul always to remember, that God is the only source of happiness, that his will is the only rule of rectitude to an intelligent creature, that earth has nothing in it desirable for itself, or any further than God is seen in it; and that the knowledge of God in Christ, begetting and maintaining love, and mortifying sensual and fleshly appetites, is the way to be holy on earth, and so to be attempered to the complete holiness of the heavenly world. __________________________________________________________________ SECOND PAPER. Some gloomy and desponding thoughts of a soul under convictions of sin, and concern for its eternal salvation. 1. I believe my case is singular, that none ever had so many strange and different thoughts and feelings as I. 2. I have been concerned much longer than many others I have known, or concerning whom I have read, who have been savingly converted, and yet I am left. 3. I have withstood the power of convictions a long time; and therefore I fear I shall be finally left of God. 4. I never shall be converted, without stronger convictions, and greater terrors of conscience. 5. I do not aim at the glory of God in any thing I do, and therefore I cannot hope for mercy. 6. I do not see the evil nature of sin, nor the sin of my nature; and therefore I am discouraged. 7. The more I strive, the more blind and hard my heart is, and the worse I grow continually. 8. I fear God never showed mercy to one so vile as I. 9. I fear I am not elected, and therefore must perish. 10. I fear the day of grace is past with me. 11. I fear I have committed the unpardonable sin. 12. I am an old sinner; and if God had designed mercy for me, he would have called me home to himself before now. __________________________________________________________________ THIRD PAPER. Some signs of godliness. The distinguishing marks of a true Christian, taken from one of my old manuscripts; where I wrote as I felt and experienced, and not from any considerable degree of doctrinal knowledge, or acquaintance with the sentiments of others in this point. 1. He has a true knowledge of the glory and excellency of God, that he is most worthy to be loved and praised for his own divine perfections. Psalm. cxlv..3. 2. God is his portion, Psal. lxxiii. 25. And God's glory his great concern, Matt. vi. 22. 3. Holiness is his delight; nothing he so much longs for, as to be holy as God is holy. Phil. iii. 9-12. 4 Sin is his greatest enemy. This he hates, for its own nature, for what it is in itself, being contrary to a holy God, Jer. ii. 1. And consequently he hates all sin, Rom. vii. 24. 1 John iii. 9. 5. The laws of God also are his delight, Psal. cxix. 97. Rom. vii. 22. These he observes, not out of constraint, from a servile fear of hell; but they are his choice, Psal. cxix. 30. The strict observance of them is not his bondage, but his greatest liberty, ver. 45. __________________________________________________________________ A SERMON PREACHED IN NEWARK, JUNE 12, 1744, AT THE ORDINATION OF MR. DAVID BRAINERD, A MISSIONARY AMONG THE INDIANS UPON THE BORDERS OF THE PROVINCES OF NEW YORK, NEW JERSEY, AND PENNSYLVANIA. BY E. PEMBERTON, A. M. PASTOR OF THE PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH IN THE CITY OF NEW YORK. Luke xiv. 23. And the lord said unto the servant, Go out into the highways and hedges, and compel them to come in, that my house may be filled. God erected this visible world as a monument of his glory, a theatre for the display of his adorable perfections. The heavens proclaim his wisdom and power in shining characters, and the whole earth is full of his goodness. Man was in his original creation excellently fitted for the service of God, and for perfect happiness in the enjoyment of the divine favour. But sin has disturbed the order of nature, defaced the beauty of the creation, and involved man, the lord of this lower world, in the most disconsolate circumstances of guilt and misery. The all-seeing eye of God beheld our deplorable state; infinite pity touched the heart of the Father of mercies; and infinite wisdom laid the plan of our recovery. The Majesty of heaven did not see meet to suffer the enemy of mankind eternally to triumph in his success; nor leave his favourite workmanship irrecoverably to perish in the ruins of the apostacy. By a method, which at once astonishes and delights the sublimest spirits above, he opened a way for the display of his mercy, without any violation of the sacred claims of his justice; in which, the honour of the law is vindicated, and the guilty offender acquitted; sin is condemned, and the sinner eternally saved. To accomplish this blessed design, the beloved Son of God assumed the nature of man, in our nature died a spotless sacrifice for sin; by the atoning virtue of his blood "he made reconciliation for iniquity," and by his perfect obedience to the law of God, "brought in everlasting righteousness." Having finished his work upon earth, before he ascended to his heavenly Father, he commissioned the ministers of his kingdom to "preach the gospel to every creature." He sent them forth to make the most extensive offers of salvation to rebellious sinners, and by all the methods of holy violence to "compel them to come in," and accept the invitations of his grace. We have a lively representation of this in the parable, in which our text is contained. The evident design of it is, under the figure of a marriage-supper, to set forth the plentiful provision, which is made in our Lord Jesus Christ for the reception of his people, and the freedom and riches of divine grace, which invites the most unworthy and miserable sinners to partake of this sacred entertainment. The first invited guests were the Jews, the favourite people of God, who were heirs of divine love, while the rest of the world were "aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers from the covenants of promise:" but these, through the power of prevailing prejudice, and the influence of carnal affections, obstinately rejected the invitation, and were therefore finally excluded from these invaluable blessings. But it was not the design of infinite wisdom, that these costly preparations should be lost, and the table he had spread remain unfurnished with guests. Therefore he sent forth his servant "into the streets and lanes of the city," and commanded him to bring in "the poor, the maimed, the halt, and the blind," i. e. the most necessitous and miserable of mankind; yea, to "go out into the highways and hedges," to the wretched and perishing Gentiles, and not only invite, but even "compel them to come in, that his house might be filled." The words of the text represent to us, I. The melancholy state of the Gentile world. They are described as "in the high-ways and hedges," in the most perishing and helpless condition. II. The compassionate care which the blessed Redeemer takes of them in these their deplorable circumstances. He "sends out his servants" to them, to invite them to partake of the entertainments of his house. III. The duty of the ministers of the gospel, to "compel them to come in," and accept of his gracious invitation. These I shall consider in their order, and then apply them to the present occasion. I. I am to consider the melancholy state of the heathen world, while in the darkness of nature, and destitute of divine revelation. It is easy to harangue upon the excellency and advantage of the light of nature. It is agreeable to the pride of mankind to exalt the powers of human reason, and pronounce it a sufficient guide to eternal happiness. But let us inquire into the records of antiquity, let us consult the experience of all ages, and we shall find, that those who had no guide but the light of nature, no instructor but unassisted reason, have wandered in perpetual uncertainty, darkness, and error. Or let us take a view of the present state of those countries that have not been illuminated by the gospel; and we shall see, that notwithstanding the improvements of near six thousand years, they remain to this day covered with the grossest darkness, and abandoned to the most immoral and vicious practices. The beauty and good order every where discovered in the visible frame of nature, evidences, beyond all reasonable dispute, the existence of an infinite and almighty Cause, who first gave being to the universe, and still preserves it by his powerful providence. Says the apostle to the Gentiles, (Rom. i. 20..) "The invisible things of God, from the creation of the world, are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead." And yet many, even among the philosophers of the Gentile nations, impiously denied the eternal Deity, from whose hands they received their existence; and blasphemed his infinite perfections, when surrounded with the clearest demonstrations of his power and goodness. Those who acknowledged a Deity, entertained the unworthy conceptions of his nature and attributes, and worshipped the creature, in the place of the Creator, "who is God blessed for ever." Not only the illustrious heroes of antiquity, and the public benefactors of mankind, but even the most despicable beings in the order of nature, were enrolled in the catalogue of their gods, and became the object of their impious adoration. Rom. i. 23. "They changed the glory of the incorruptible God into an image made like to corruptible man, to birds and four-footed beasts, and creeping things," Rom. i. 23. A few of the sublimest geniuses of Rome and Athens had some faint discoveries of the spiritual nature of the human soul, and formed some probable conjectures, that man was designed for a future state of existence. When they considered the extensive capacities of the human mind, and the deep impressions of futurity engraven in every breast, they could not but infer, that the soul was immortal, and at death would be translated to some new and unknown state. When they saw the virtuous oppressed with various and successive calamities, and the vilest of men triumphing in prosperity and pleasure, they entertained distant hopes, that, in a future revolution, these seeming inequalities would be rectified, these inconsistencies removed; the righteous distinguishingly rewarded, and the wicked remarkably punished. But after all their inquiries upon this important subject, they attained no higher than probable conjectures, some uncertain expectations. And when they came to describe the nature and situation of these invisible regions of happiness or misery, they made the wildest guesses, and run into the most absurd and vain imaginations. The heaven they contrived for the entertainment of the virtuous, was made up of sensual pleasures, beneath the dignity of human nature, and inconsistent with perfect felicity. The hell they described for the punishment of the vicious, consisted in ridiculous terrors, unworthy the belief of a rational and religious creature. Their practices were equally corrupt with their principles. As the most extravagant errors were received among the established articles of their faith, so the most infamous vices obtained in their practice, and were indulged not only with impunity, but authorized by the sanction of their laws. They stupidly erected altars to idols of wood and stone; paid divine honours to those, who in their lives had been the greatest monsters of lust and cruelty; yea, offered up their sons and daughters as sacrifices to devils. The principles of honour, the restraints of shame, the precepts of their philosophers, were all too weak to keep their corruptions within any tolerable bounds. The wickedness of their hearts broke through every enclosure, and deluged the earth with rapine and violence, blood and slaughter, and all manner of brutish and detestable impurities. It is hardly possible to read the melancholy description of the principles and manners of the heathen world given us by St. Paul, without horror and surprise; to think that man, once the "friend of God" and "the lord of this lower world," should thus "deny the God that made him," and bow down to dumb idols; should thus, by lust and intemperance, degrade himself into the character of the beast, "which hath no understanding;" and by pride, malice, and revenge, transform himself into the very image of the devil, "who was a murderer from the beginning." This was the state of the Gentile nations, when the light of the gospel appeared to scatter the darkness that overspread the face of the earth. And this has been the case, so far as has yet appeared, of all the nations ever since, upon whom the Sun of righteousness has not arisen with healing in his wings. Every new-discovered country opens a new scene of astonishing ignorance and barbarity; and gives us fresh evidence of the universal corruption of human nature. II. I proceed now to consider the compassionate care and kindness of our blessed Redeemer towards mankind, in these their deplorable circumstances. He "sends out his servants," to invite them "to come in," and accept the entertainments of his house. God might have left his guilty creatures to have eternally suffered the dismal effects of their apostacy, without the least imputation of injustice, or violence of his infinite perfections. The fall was the consequence of man's criminal choice, and attended with the highest aggravations. The angels that sinned were made examples of God's righteous severity, and are reserved "in chains" of guilt "to the judgment of the great day." Mercy, that tender attribute of the divine nature, did not interpose in their behalf, in order to suspend the execution of their sentence, or to avert God's threatened displeasure. Their punishment is unalterably decreed, their judgment is irreversible; they are the awful monuments of revenging wrath, and are condemned "to blackness of darkness for ever." Now justice might have shown the same inflexible severity to rebellious man, and have left the universal progeny of Adam to perish in their guilt and misery. It was unmerited mercy that distinguished the human race, in providing a Saviour for us; and it was the most signal comparison that revealed the counsels of heaven for our recovery. But though justice did not oblige the Divine Being to provide for our relief, yet the goodness of the indulgent Father of the universe inclined him to show pity to his guilty creatures, who fell from their innocence through the subtlety and malice of seducing and apostate spirits. It was agreeable to the divine wisdom to disappoint the devices of Satan, the enemy of God and goodness, and recover the creatures he had made from their subjection to the powers of darkness. He therefore gave early discoveries of his designs of mercy to our first parents, and immediately upon the apostacy opened a door of hope for their recovery. He revealed a Saviour to the ancient patriarchs, under dark types and by distant promises; made clearer declarations of his will, as the appointed time drew near, for the accomplishment of the promises, and the manifestation of the Son of God in human flesh. "And when the fulness of time was come, God sent forth his Son, made of a woman, made under the law, to redeem them that were under the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons." This divine and illustrious person left the bosom of his Father, that he might put on the character of a servant; descended from the glories of heaven, that he might dwell on this inferior earth; was made under the law, that he might fulfil all righteousness; submitted to the infirmities of human nature, to the sorrows and sufferings of an afflicted life, and to the agonies of a painful ignominious death on a cross, that he might destroy the power of sin, abolish the empire of death, and purchase immortality and glory for perishing man. While our Lord Jesus resided in this lower world, he preached the glad tidings of salvation, and published the kingdom of God; confirming his doctrine by numerous and undoubted miracles, and recommending his instructions by the charms of a spotless life and conversation. He sent forth his apostles to pursue the same gracious design of gospellizing the people, and furnished them with sufficient powers to proselyte the nations to the faith. He also appointed a standing ministry to carry on a treaty of peace with rebellious sinners, in the successive ages of the church; to continue, till the number of the redeemed is completed, and the whole election of grace placed in circumstances of spotless purity and perfect happiness. These ministers are styled "the servants of Christ," by way of eminence: they are in a peculiar manner devoted to the service of their divine Master: from him they receive their commission; and by him they are appointed to represent his person, preside in his worship, and teach the laws of his kingdom. To assume this character without being divinely called, and regularly introduced into this sacred office, is a bold invasion of Christ's royal authority, and an open violation of that order, which he has established in his church. These not only derive their mission from Christ, but it is his doctrine they are to preach, and not the inventions of their own brain; it is his glory they are to promote, and not their own interest or honour. Their business is not to propagate the designs of a party, but the common salvation, and to "beseech all, in Christ's name, to be reconciled unto God." The apostles, the primitive heralds of the everlasting gospel, were sent to make the first tender of salvation to "the lost sheep of the house of Israel;" and they were commanded to begin at Jerusalem, the centre of the Jewish commonwealth. But when the Jews obstinately persisted in their impenitence and unbelief, they were commissioned to "preach the gospel to every creature under heaven;" the sinners of the Gentiles were invited to come in, and accept of the offers of salvation. The prophets pointed out a Messiah that was to come, and proclaimed the joyful approach of a Redeemer at the time appointed in the sovereign counsels of heaven. The ministers of the gospel now are sent to declare, that the prophecies are accomplished, the promise fulfilled, justice satisfied, salvation purchased; and all that will come in, shall receive the blessings of the gospel. They are not only freely to invite sinners, of all orders and degrees, of all ages and nations; but to assure them, that "all things are now ready," and to use the most powerful and persuasive methods, that they may engage them to comply with the heavenly call. Which brings me to the third thing proposed; viz. III. To show, that it is the great duty of the ministers of the gospel "to compel sinners to come in," and accept of the blessings of the gospel. This is so plainly contained in my text, that I shall not multiply arguments to confirm it. My only business shall be to explain the nature of this compulsion, or show in what manner sinners are to be "compelled to come in" to the Christian church. And sure I am, not by the deceitful methods of fraud and disguise, nor the inhuman practices of persecution and violence. This text indeed has often been alleged by the persecuting bigots of all ages, and applied to support the cause of religious tyranny; to the infinite scandal of the Christian name, and the unspeakable detriment of the christian interest. By this means the enemies of our most holy faith have been strengthened in their infidelity, the weak have been turned aside from "the truth, as it is in Jesus," and the peaceable kingdom of the Messiah transformed into a field of blood, a scene of hellish and horrid cruelties. If this were the compulsion recommended in the gospel, then absolute unrelenting tyrants would be the proper and most infallible teachers; then racks and tortures would be the genuine and most successful method of propagating the faith. But surely every thing of this kind, every violent and driving measure, is in direct opposition to the precepts and example of our blessed Saviour, and contrary to the very genius of his gospel, which proclaims "Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace, goodwill towards men." [432] The princes of this world exercise a temporal dominion over mankind, and by fines levied on their estates, and punishments inflicted upon their bodies, force men to an outward subjection to their authority and government. But the kingdom of our Lord is of a spiritual nature; he erects his empire in the hearts of men, and reigns over "a willing people in the day of his power." External violence may necessitate men to an external profession of the truth, and procure a dissembled compliance with the institutions of Christ; but can never enlighten the darkness of the mind, conquer the rebellion of the will, nor sanctify and save the soul. It may transfigure men into accomplished hypocrites; but will never convert them into real saints. The gospel was originally propagated by the powerful preaching of Christ and his apostles, by the astonishing miracles which they wrought in confirmation of their doctrine, and the exemplary lives by which they adorned their profession and character. Instead of propagating their religion by the destructive methods of fire and sword, they submitted to the rage and cruelty of a malignant world with surprising patience, and sacrificed their very lives in the cause of God, without any intemperate discoveries of anger and resentment. Instead of calling for "fire from heaven" to destroy their opposers, they compassionated their ignorance, instructed them with meekness, counselled and exhorted them with "all long-suffering and doctrine," and even spent their dying breath in praying for their conviction and conversion, that they might be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus. Now, in imitation of these primitive doctors of the Christian church, these wise and successful preachers of the gospel, it is the duty of the ministers of the present day to use the same methods of compassion and friendly violence. A disinterested zeal for the glory of God, a stedfast adherence to the truth, and unshaken fidelity in our Master's cause, with universal benevolence to mankind, must constantly animate our public discourses, and be conspicuous in our private conversation and behaviour. We must diligently endeavour to convince the understandings, engage the affections, and direct the practice of our hearers. Upon this head, it may not be amiss to descend to a few particulars. 1. Ministers are to "compel sinners to come in," by setting before them their "guilty and perishing condition by nature." Sinners are naturally fond of carnal ease and security; they are delighted with their pleasant and profitable sins; they even "drink in iniquity like water," with great greediness, with insatiable thirst, and incessant gratification, but without fear or remorse. Upon this account, there is the highest necessity to sound an alarm in their ears, that they may be awakened to see and consider their dangerous state; or else they will never be excited to "flee from the wrath to come." The secure sinner is insensible of his want of a Saviour: "The whole need not a physician, but they that are sick." To this end, the ministers of the gospel are to set "the terrors of the Lord" in array against the sinner, and let him hear the "thunder of divine curses," that utter their voice against the unbelieving. They are to represent in the clearest light, and with the most convincing evidence, the evil of sin, and the danger to which it exposes; that "wrath from heaven is revealed against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men;" [433] that the flaming sword of incensed justice is unsheathed, and the arm of the Almighty ready to destroy such as are "going on still in their trespasses," impenitent and secure. They are not only thus to show them their danger, but to set before them at the same time their wretched and helpless circumstances; that no human eye can successfully pity them, nor any created arm bring them effectual deliverance; that, while in a state of unregenerate nature, they are destitute of strength to perform any acceptable service to the blessed God, and unable to make any adequate satisfaction to his offended justice; that indeed they can neither avoid the divine displeasure, nor endure the punishment that is due to their crimes. Thus, by a faithful application of the law and its threatenings, we should endeavour, by God's blessing, to make way for the reception of the gospel and its promises. This was the wise method observed by our blessed Saviour, the first preacher of the gospel; and by the apostles, his inspired successors. So John the Baptist, who served as "the morning-star" to usher in the appearance of the "Sun of righteousness," did thus "prepare the way of the Lord," by enlightening the minds of men in the knowledge of their guilt and misery, and inciting them to flee from the "damnation of hell." The three thousand that were converted to the faith at one sermon, in the infancy of the Christian church, were first awakened with a sense of their aggravated guilt, in "crucifying the Lord of glory;" and brought in agony and distress to cry out, [434] "Men and brethren, what shall we do?" This method, I confess, is disagreeable to the sentiments and inclinations of a secure world; and may expose us to the reproach of those "that are at ease in Zion:" but is agreeable to the dictates of an enlightened mind, conformable to the plan laid down in the Sacred Scriptures, and has in all ages approved itself the most successful method of promoting the interests of real and vital religion. 2. They are to "compel sinners to come in," by a lively representation of the power and grace of our Almighty Redeemer. Not all the thunder and terror of curses from mount Ebal, not all the tremendous "wrath revealed from heaven against the ungodly," not all the anguish and horror of a wounded spirit in an awakened sinner, are able to produce an unfeigned and effectual compliance with the gospel-terms of mercy. The ministry of the law can only give the knowledge of sin, rouse the sinner's conscience, and alarm his fears: it is the dispensation of grace, that sanctifies and saves the soul. Nor is the former needful but in order to the latter. So much conviction as gives us a sight of our sin and misery, as inclines us to "flee from the wrath to come," and disposes us to submit to the gospel-method of salvation "by grace through faith," by sovereign mercy through the Mediator, so much is necessary; and more is neither requisite, nor useful, nor desirable. It is not the office of preachers to be perpetually employed in the language of terror, or exhaust their strength and zeal in awakening and distressing subjects. No; but as it is their distinguishing character, that they are ministers of the gospel, so it is their peculiar business to "preach the unsearchable riches of Christ." The person, and offices, and love of the great Redeemer, the merits of his obedience, and purchases of his cross, the victories of his resurrection, the triumphs of his ascension and prevalence of his intercession, the power of his Spirit, the greatness of his salvation, the freeness of his grace, &c.; these are to be the chosen and delightful subjects of their discourses. They are to represent him as one who has completely answered the demands of the law, rendered the Deity propitious to the sinner, and upon this account is able eternally to save us from the vengeance of an offended God; who is clothed with almighty power to subdue the inveterate habits of sin, sanctify our polluted nature, and restore us to spiritual health and purity; who is Lord of the visible and invisible worlds, who knows how to defeat the most artful devices of Satan, and will finally render his people victorious over their most malicious and implacable adversaries; who having "made reconciliation for iniquity" upon the cross, is pleading the merits of his blood in heaven, and powerfully interceding for all suitable blessings in behalf of his people; "who is there exalted as a Prince and a Saviour to give repentance and remission of sins; [435] and is able to save unto the uttermost all those that come to God in and through him;" [436] in fine, who from his illustrious throne in glory stoops to look down with pity upon guilty and perishing sinners, stretches forth the sceptre of grace, and opens the everlasting arms of his mercy to receive them. These peculiar doctrine of the gospel they are frequently to teach, upon these they are to dwell with constant pleasure, that sinners may be persuaded to hearken to the inviting voice of divine love, and put their trust in this almighty and compassionate Saviour. In order to which, 3. They are to show sinners the mighty encouragement that the gospel gives them to accept of Christ, and salvation through his merits and righteousness. As for ignorant presumers, these hear the glad tidings of the gospel with a fatal indifference; and say in their hearts, "they shall have peace," though they go on in their evil way, stupidly "neglecting so great salvation," and regardless of eternal things. But awakened minds are rather apt to draw the darkest conclusions with respect to their case, and to judge themselves excluded from the invitations of the gospel. Sometimes they imagine, that the number and aggravations of their sins exceed the designs of pardoning mercy: at other times, that they have so long resisted the heavenly call, that now the gate of heaven is irrecoverably barred against them: and Satan further suggests, that it would be the height of presumption in them to lay claim to the blessings of the gospel, till better prepared for the divine reception. Upon such imaginary and false grounds as these, multitudes of the invited guests make excuses, and exclude themselves from the "marriage-supper of the Lamb." It is therefore the business of the servants of Christ to show, that "there is yet room" even for the greatest and vilest sinners to come in, and partake of the gospel-festival; that "all things are now ready" for their welcome entertainment; that the door is still open, and there is free access, not only for those who have escaped the grossest pollutions of the world, but even "for the chief of sinners," whose guilt is of a crimson colour and a scarlet dye; that neither the number nor aggravations of their iniquities will exclude them a share in the divine mercy, if now they submit to the sceptre of grace; that whatever their condition and circumstances may be, it is of present obligation upon them to accept the gospel-call, and their instant duty to come in; the Master invites them "to come to him, that they may have life;" and "whosoever do so," the Master of the house assures them, that "he will in no wise cast them out." [437] 4. They are to exhibit the unspeakable advantages that will attend a compliance with the gospel-call, I know, indeed, the religion of Jesus is by its enemies often represented in the most frightful and hideous colours; particularly as laying an unreasonable restraint on the liberties of mankind, and sinking them into melancholy enthusiasts. It becomes us, therefore, who are "set for the defence of the gospel," to endeavour the removing of this groundless prejudice, and to convince mankind by the light of reason and Scripture, that "the ways of wisdom are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace:" that verily a life of faith in the blessed Redeemer is the way to be happy, both here and hereafter. O what more honourable, than to be "a child of God, an heir of the kingdom of heaven?" What more pleasing, than to look back, and behold our past iniquities all buried in the depths of eternal oblivion; than to look forward, and view our dear Saviour acknowledging us his friends and favourites, and adjudging us to a state of unperishing glory? What more advantageous, than to have the divine favour engaged for our protection, the promises of divine grace for our consolation; and an assured title to "an inheritance undefiled, incorruptible, and eternal?" This is the portion of the true believer. These the privileges that attend a compliance with the gospel-call. These things are to be represented in such a manner as may tend to captivate the hearts of men, and engage them in a solicitous care and resolution to renounce the degrading servitude of sin, and resign themselves to the power of redeeming grace. Thus by the most effectual and persuasive methods, the ministers of Jesus are to compel sinners "to come in, that his house may be filled." It was not in my design, to consider the duty of the ministry in its just extent; but only to insist upon those things that more properly belong to my subject, and lie directly in the view of my text. It will now doubtless be expected that I apply my discourse more immediately to the present occasion. And suffer me, dear Sir, in the first place, to address myself to you, who are this day coming under a public consecration to the service of Christ, "to bear his name among the Gentiles; to whom the Master is now sending you forth, to compel them to come in, that his house may be filled." We trust you are a chosen vessel, designed for extensive service in this honourable, though difficult, employment. We adore the God of nature, who has furnished you with such endowments as suit you to this important charge. We adore the great Head of the church for the nobler gifts and graces of his Spirit; by which, we trust, you are enabled to engage in this mission with an ardent love to God, the universal Father of mankind, with a disinterested zeal for the honour of Christ, the compassionate friend of sinners, and with tender concern for the perishing souls of a "people that sit in darkness, and in the shadow of death;" who have for so many ages been wandering out of the way of salvation, "without Christ, and without God in the world." The work of the ministry, in every place, has its difficulties and dangers, and requires much wisdom, fortitude, patience, and self-denial, to discharge it in a right manner, with an encouraging prospect of success: but greater degrees of prudence, humility, and meekness, mortification to the present world, holy courage, and zeal for the honour of God our Saviour, are necessary where any are called to minister the gospel unto those, who through a long succession of ages have dwelt in the darkness of heathenism, have from their infancy imbibed inveterate prejudices against the Christian faith, and from time immemoria been inured to many superstitious and idolatrous practices, directly opposite to the nature and design of the gospel. What heavenly skill is required, to convey the supernatural mysteries of the gospel into the minds of uninstructed pagans, who are "a people of a strange speech and hard language!" What deep self-denial is necessary, to enable you cheerfully to forsake the pleasures of your native country, with the agreeable society of your friends and acquaintance, to dwell among those who inhabit not indeed "the high-ways and hedges," but uncultivated deserts, and the remotest recesses of the wilderness! What unwearied zeal and diligence, to proselyte those to the faith of the gospel, who have quenched the light of reason, and by their inhuman and barbarous practices have placed themselves upon a level with the brute creation! Methinks I hear you crying put, "Who is sufficient for these things?" And indeed, if you had no strength to depend upon but your own, no encouragement but from human assistance, you might justly sink down in despair, and utter the passionate language of Moses, "O my Lord, send, I pray thee, by the hand of him whom thou wilt send;" thy servant is insufficient for so great a work. But it is at the command of Christ, the great Head of the church, that you go forth; who by a train of surprising providences, has been preparing your way for this important embassy; and therefore you may be assured, that he will support you in the faithful discharge of your duty, accept your unfeigned desires to promote the interests of his kingdom, and finally reward your imperfect services with his gracious approbation. You have his divine promise for your security and consolation; "Lo, I am with you alway, even to the end of the world." This will afford you light in every darkness, defence in every danger, strength in every weakness, and a final victory over every temptation. If Christ be with you, "in vain do the heathen rage," in vain will their confederated tribes unite their forces to obstruct and discourage you. Infinite wisdom will be your guide, almighty power your shield, and God himself "your exceeding great reward." The presence of your divine Master will make amends for the absence of your dearest friends and relatives. This will transform a wild and uncultivated desert into a paradise of joy and pleasure, and the lonely huts of savages into more delightful habitations than the palaces of princes. Let not then any difficulties discourage, any dangers affright you. Go forth in the name and strength of the Lord Jesus, to whom you are now to be devoted in the sacred office of the ministry. "Be not ashamed of the gospel of Christ; for it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth, to the Jew first, and also to the Gentile." Let zeal for the honour of God, and compassion for the souls of men, animate your public discourses and private addresses to the people committed to your charge. Always remember, that your character is a minister of Jesus; and therefore with the inspired doctor of the Gentiles, you "are to know nothing among them, save Christ and him crucified. Frequently consider, that the gospel is a divine discipline to purify the heart, and set up the kingdom of the Redeemer in the souls of men: and therefore it is not sufficient to bring sinners to a profession of the name of Christ, and an outward subjection to the institutions of divine worship: "You are sent to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God, that they may receive forgiveness of sins, and an inheritance among them that are sanctified by faith that is in Christ." Unless this be effected, (whatever other improvements they gain,) they are left under the dominion of sin, and exposed to the wrath of God; and their superior degrees of knowledge will only serve to light them down to the regions of death and misery. This then is to be the principal design of your ministry: for this you are to labour with unwearied application, and with incessant importunity to approach the throne of that God, whose peculiar prerogative it is "to teach us to profit;" whose grace alone can make them "a willing people in the day of his power." And for your encouragement, I will only add: When I consider the many prophecies, in sacred Scripture, of the triumphant progress of the gospel in the last ages of the world, I cannot but lift up my head with joy, in an humble expectation, that the day draws near, yea, is even at hand, when the promises made to the Son of God shall be more illustriously fulfilled; "when he shall have the heathen for his inheritance, and the utmost parts of the earth for his possession; when his name shall be great among the Gentiles, and be honoured and adored from the rising of the sun to the going down of the same." But if the appointed time is not yet come, and the attempts made to introduce this glorious day fail of desired success, "your judgment will be with the Lord, and your reward with your God." If the Gentiles "be not gathered" in, you will "be glorious in the eyes of the Lord," who accepts and rewards his servants according to the sincerity of their desires, and not according to the success of their endeavours. I shall conclude with a few words to the body of the people. God our Saviour, in infinite condescension, hath sent his servants to invite you to come in, and receive the blessings which infinite wisdom has contrived, and astonishing grace prepared for your entertainment. And surely, my brethren, it is your important duty and incomparable interest, not to despise "the salvation of God sent unto the Gentiles," nor make light of the gospel-message to you. God has been pleased to employ us the messengers of his grace, men of like passions with yourselves, subject to the common infirmities of human nature: but the message comes from him, who is King of kings and Lord of lords; whom you are under the strongest obligations to hear and obey, in point of interest, gratitude, and duty. What gracious and condescending methods has he taken, to allure and invite you! Has he not descended from heaven to earth, from the boundless glories of eternity to all the sufferings and afflictions of this mortal life, that he might purchase and reveal salvation; that he might engage your love, and persuade you to comply with his saving designs? Does he not send his "ambassadors to beseech you in his stead, to be reconciled to God?" What excuses have you to make, that will stand the trial of an enlightened conscience, to justify you at the awful tribunal of God? will the vanishing enjoyments of sin and sense, or the perishing riches of this transitory world, make amends for the loss of the divine favour, or support you under the terrors of eternal damnation? Are there any honours comparable to the dignity and character of a child of God, and a title to the privileges of his house and family? Are there any pleasures equal to the smiles of God's reconciled face, the refreshing visits of his love, and the immortal joys of his salvation? But how deplorable, how desperate will be your case, if you finally refuse the gospel-invitation, and perish in your natural state of guilt and misery! The compassionate Jesus, who now addresses you in the inviting language of love, will then speak to you with the voice of terror, and "swear in his wrath, that you shall never enter into his rest, that you shall never taste of his supper," the rich provision which he has made for the eternal entertainment of his guests. "When once the Master of the house is risen up, and hath shut to the door," you will in vain stand without, and knock for admission. In a word, Now, he declares by his servants, that "all things are ready," and all that are bidden shall be welcome, upon their coming in, to be partakers of the benefit. The blood of Christ is now ready to cleanse you from all your guilt and pollution; his righteousness is now ready to adorn your naked souls with the garment of salvation; his Spirit is now ready to take possession of you, and make you eternal monuments of victorious and redeeming grace. "The Spirit and the bride say, Come; and whosoever (of the lost and perishing sons of Adam) will, let him come," and participate of the blessings of the gospel "freely, without money, and without price." The arms of everlasting mercy are open to receive you; the treasures of divine grace are open to supply your wants; and every one of you that now sincerely accepts this gracious invitation, shall hereafter be admitted "to sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom of heaven." For which, God of his infinite mercy prepare us all, through Jesus Christ: to whom be glory and dominion world without end. Amen. __________________________________________________________________ [432] Luke ii. 14. [433] Rom. i. 18 [434] Acts ii. 36, 37. [435] Acts v. 31. [436] Heb. vii. 25. [437] John vi. 37. __________________________________________________________________ SOME REFLECTIONS AND OBSERVATIONS ON THE PRECEDING MEMOIRS, &C. OF THE REV. DAVID BRAINERD. REFLECT. I. We have here opportunity, as I apprehend, in a very lively instance, to see the nature of true religion; and the manner of its operation when exemplified in a high degree and powerful exercise. Particularly it may be worthy to be observed, SECT. I. How greatly Mr. Brainerd's religion differed from that of some pretenders to the experience of a clear work of saving conversion wrought on their hearts; who depending and living on that, settle in a cold, careless, and carnal frame of mind, and in a neglect of thorough, earnest religion, in the stated practices of it! Although his convictions and conversion were in all respects exceeding clear, and very remarkable; yet how far was he from acting as though he thought he had got through his work, when once he had obtained comfort, and satisfaction of his interest in Christ, and title to heaven! On the contrary, that work on his heart, by which he was brought to this, was with him evidently but the beginning of his work, his first entering on the great business of religion and the service of God, his first setting out in his race. His obtaining rest of soul in Christ, after earnest striving to enter in at the strait gate, and being violent to take the kingdom of heaven, he did not look upon as putting an end to any further occasion for striving in religion; but these were continued still, and maintained constantly, through all changes, to the very end of life. His work was not finished, nor his race ended, till life was ended; agreeable to frequent scripture representations of the Christian life. He continued pressing forward in a constant manner, forgetting the things that were behind, and reaching forth towards the things that were before. His pains and earnestness in the business of religion were rather increased, than diminished, after he had received comfort and satisfaction concerning the safety of his state. Those divine principles, by which after this he was actuated, love to God, longings and thirstings after holiness, seem to be more effectual to engage him to pains and activity in religion, than fear of hell had been before. And as his conversion was not the end of his work, or of the course of his diligence and strivings in religion; so neither was it the end of the work of the Spirit of God on his heart: but on the contrary, the beginning of the work; the beginning of his spiritual discoveries, and holy views; the first dawning of the light, which thenceforth increased more and more; the beginning of his holy affections, his sorrow for sin, his love to God, his rejoicing in Christ Jesus, his longing after holiness. And the powerful operations of the Spirit of God in these things, were carried on from the day of his conversion, in a continued course, to his dying day. His religious experiences, his admiration, his joy, praise, and flowing affections, did not only hold up to a considerable height for a few days, weeks, or months, at first, while hope and comfort were new things with him; and then gradually dwindle and die away, till they came to almost nothing, and so leave him without any sensible or remarkable experience of spiritual discoveries, or holy and divine affections, for months together; as it is with many, who after the newness of things is over, soon come to that pass, that it is again with them very much as it used to be before their supposed conversion, with respect to any present views of God's glory, of Christ's excellency, or of the beauty of divine things; and with respect to any present thirstings for God, or ardent outgoings of their souls after divine objects: but only now and then they have a comfortable reflection on past things, and are somewhat affected with them: and so rest easy, thinking all things are well; they have had a good clear work, and their state is safe, and they doubt not but they shall go to heaven when they die. How far otherwise was it with Mr. Brainerd, than it is with such persons! His experiences, instead of dying away, were evidently of an increasing nature. His first love, and other holy affections, even at the beginning were very great; but after months and years, became much greater, and more remarkable; and the spiritual exercises of his mind continued exceeding great, (though not equally so at all times, yet usually so,) without indulged remissness, and without habitual dwindling and dying away, even till his decease. They began in a time of general deadness all over the land, and were greatly increased in a time of general reviving of religion. And when religion decayed again, and a general deadness returned, his experiences were still kept up in their height, and his holy exercises maintained in their life and vigour; and so continued to be, in a general course, wherever he was, and whatever his circumstances were, among English and Indians, in company and alone, in towns and cities, and in the howling wilderness, in sickness and in health, living and dying. This is agreeable to scripture descriptions of true and right religion, and of the Christian life. The change wrought in him at his conversion, was agreeable to scripture representations of that change which is wrought in true conversion; a great change, and an abiding change, rendering him a new man, a new creature: not only a change as to hope and comfort, and an apprehension of his own good estate; and a transient change, consisting in high flights of passing affection; but a change of nature, a change of the abiding habit and temper of his mind. Not a partial change, merely in point of opinion, or outward reformation; much less a change from one error to another, or from one sin to another: but an universal change, both internal and external; as from corrupt and dangerous principles in religion, unto the belief of the truth, so from both the habits and the ways of sin, unto universal holiness of heart and practice; from the power and service of Satan unto God. SECT. II. His religion did apparently and greatly differ from that of many high pretenders to religion, who are frequently actuated by vehement emotions of mind, and are carried on in a course of sudden and strong impressions, and supposed high illuminations and immediate discoveries, and at the same time are persons of a virulent "zeal, not according to knowledge." His convictions, preceding his conversion, did not arise from any frightful impressions of his imagination, or any external images and ideas of fire and brimstone, a sword of vengeance drawn, a dark pit open, devils in terrible shapes, &c. strongly fixed on his mind. His sight of his own sinfulness did not consist in any imagination of a heap of loathsome material filthiness within him; nor did his sense of the hardness of his heart consist in any bodily feeling in his breast of something hard and heavy like a stone, nor in any imaginations whatever of such a nature. His first discovery of God or Christ, at his conversion, was not any strong idea of any external glory or brightness, or majesty and beauty of countenance, or pleasant voice; nor was it any supposed immediate manifestation of God's love to him in particular; nor any imagination of Christ's smiling face, arms open, or words immediately spoken to him, as by name, revealing Christ's love to him; either words of Scripture, or any other. But it was a manifestation of God's glory, and the beauty of his nature, as supremely excellent in itself; powerfully drawing, and sweetly captivating his heart; bringing him to a hearty desire to exalt God, set him on the throne, and give him supreme honour and glory, as the King and Sovereign of the universe: and also a new sense of the infinite wisdom, suitableness, and excellency of the way of salvation by Christ; powerfully engaging his whole soul to embrace this way of salvation, and to delight in it. His first faith did not consist in believing that Christ loved him, and died for him, in particular. His first comfort was not from any secret suggestion of God's eternal love to him, or that God was reconciled to him, or intended great mercy for him; by any such texts as these, "Son, be of good cheer, thy sins are forgiven thee. Fear not, I am thy God," &c. or in any such way. On the contrary, when God's glory was first discovered to him, it was without any thought of salvation as his own. His first experience of the sanctifying and comforting power of God's Spirit did not begin in some bodily sensation, any pleasant warm feeling in his breast, that some would have called the feeling the love of Christ in him, and being full of the Spirit. How exceeding far were his experiences at his first conversion from all things of such a nature! And if we look through the whole series of his experiences, from his conversion to his death, we shall find none of this kind. I have had occasion to read his diary over and over, and very particularly and critically to review every passage in it; and I find no one instance of a strong impression on his imagination, through his whole life; no instance of a strongly impressed idea of any external glory and brightness, of any bodily form or shape, any beautiful majestic countenance. There is no imaginary sight of Christ hanging on the cross with his blood streaming from his wounds; or seated in heaven on a bright throne, with angels and saints bowing before him; or with a countenance smiling on him; or arms open to embrace him: no sight of heaven, in his imagination, with gates of pearl, and golden streets, and vast multitudes of glorious inhabitants, with shining garments. There is no sight of the book of life opened, with his name written in it; no hearing of the sweet music made by the songs of heavenly hosts: no hearing God or Christ immediately speaking to him; nor any sudden suggestions of words or sentences, either of Scripture or any other, as then immediately spoken or sent to him: no new objective revelations, no sudden strong suggestions of secret facts. Nor do I find any one instance in all the records he has left of his own life, from beginning to end, of joy excited from a supposed immediate witness of the Spirit; or inward immediate suggestion, that his state was surely good, that God loved him with an everlasting love, that Christ died for him in particular, and that heaven was his; either with or without a text of Scripture. There is no instance of comfort by a sudden bearing in upon his mind, as though at that very time directed by God to him in particular, any such kind of texts as these; "Fear not, I am with thee; It is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom; You have not chosen me, but I have chosen you; I have called thee by thy name, thou art mine; Before thou wast formed in the belly, I knew thee," &c. There is no supposed communion and conversation with God carried on in this way; nor any such supposed tasting of the love of Christ. But the way he was satisfied of his own good estate, even to the entire abolishing of fear, was by feeling within himself the lively actings of a holy temper and heavenly disposition, the vigorous exercises of that divine love which casteth out fear. This was the way he had full satisfaction soon after his conversion; (see his diary on October 18, and 19, 1740;) and we find no other way of satisfaction through his whole life afterwards: and this he abundantly declared to be the way, the only way, that he had complete satisfaction, when he looked death in the face, in its near approaches. Some of the pretenders to an immediate witness by suggestion, and defenders of it, with an assuming confidence would bear us in hand, that there is no full assurance without it; and that the way of being satisfied by signs, and arguing an interest in Christ from sanctification, if it will keep men quiet in life and health, yet will never do when they come to die. Then, they say, men must have immediate witness, or else be in a dreadful uncertainty. But Mr. Brainerd's experience is a confutation of this; for in him we have an instance of one that possessed as constant, as unshaken an assurance, through the course of his life, after conversion, as perhaps can be produced in this age; which yet he obtained and enjoyed without any such sort of testimony, and without all manner of appearance of it, or pretence to it; yea, while utterly disclaiming any such thing, and declaring against it. His assurance, we need not scruple to affirm, has as fair a claim, and as just a pretension to truth and genuineness, as any that the pretenders to immediate witness can produce. And he is not only an instance of one that had such assurance in life, but had it in a constant manner in his last illness; and particularly in the latter stages of it, through those last months of his life wherein death was more sensibly approaching, without the least hope of life. He had it too in its fulness, and in the height of its exercise, under repeated trials, in this space of time; when brought from time to time to the very brink of the grave, expecting in a few minutes to be in eternity. He had "the full assurance of hope unto the end." When on the verge of eternity, he then declared his assurance to be such as perfectly excluded all fear. And not only so, but it manifestly filled his soul with exceeding joy; he declaring at the same time, that this his consolation and good hope through grace, arose wholly from the evidence he had of his good estate, by what he found of his sanctification, or the exercise of a holy heavenly temper of mind, supreme love to God, &c. and not in the least from any immediate witness by suggestion. Yea, he declares that at these very times he saw the awful delusion of that confidence which is built on such a foundation, as well as of the whole of that religion which it usually springs from, or at least is the attendant of; and that his soul abhorred those delusions: and he continued in this mind, often expressing it with much solemnity, even till death. SECT. III. Mr. Brainerd's religion was not selfish and mercenary: his love to God was primarily and principally for the supreme excellency of his own nature, and not built on a preconceived notion that God loved him, had received him into favour, and had done great things for him, or promised great things to him. His joy was joy in God, and not in himself. We see by his diary how, from time to time, through the course of his life, his soul was filled with ineffable sweetness and comfort. But what was the spring of this strong and abiding consolation? Not so much the consideration of the sure grounds he had to think that his state was good, that God had delivered him from hell, and that heaven was his; or any thoughts concerning his own distinguished happy and exalted circumstances, as a high favourite of Heaven: but the sweet meditations and entertaining views he had of divine things without himself; the affecting considerations and lively ideas of God's infinite glory, his unchangeable blessedness, his sovereignty and universal dominion; together with the sweet exercises of love to God, giving himself up to him, abasing himself before him, denying himself for him, depending upon him, acting for his glory, diligently serving him; and the pleasing prospects or hopes he had of a future advancement of the kingdom of Christ, &c. It appears plainly and abundantly all along, from his conversion to his death, that the beauty, that sort of good, which was the great object of the new sense of his mind, the new relish and appetite given him in conversion, and thenceforward maintained and increased in his heart, was holiness, conformity to God, living to God, and glorifying him. This was what drew his heart; this was the centre of his soul; this was the ocean to which all the streams of his religious affections tended; this was the object that engaged his eager thirsting desires and earnest pursuits. He knew no true excellency, or happiness, but this; this was what he longed for most vehemently and constantly on earth; and this was with him the beauty and blessedness of heaven. This made him so much and so often to long for that world of glory: it was to be perfectly holy, and perfectly exercised in the holy employments of heaven; thus, "to glorify God, and enjoy him for ever." His religious illuminations, affections, and comfort, seemed, to a great degree, to be attended with evangelical humiliation; consisting in a sense of his own utter insufficiency, despicableness, and odiousness; with an answerable disposition and frame of heart. How deeply affected was he almost continually with his great defects in religion; with his vast distance from that spirituality and holy frame of mind that became him; with his ignorance, pride, deadness, unsteadiness, barrenness! He was not only affected with the remembrance of his former sinfulness, before his conversion, but with the sense of his present vileness and pollution. He was not only disposed to think meanly of himself as before God, and in comparison of him; but amongst men, and as compared with them. He was apt to think other saints better than he; yea, to look on himself as the meanest and least of saints; yea, very often, as the vilest and worst of mankind. And notwithstanding his great attainments in spiritual knowledge, yet we find there is scarce any thing, with a sense of which he is more frequently affected and abased, than his ignorance. How eminently did he appear to be of a meek and quiet spirit, resembling the lamb-like, dove-like Spirit of Jesus Christ! How full of love, meekness, quietness, forgiveness, and mercy! His love was not merely a fondness and zeal for a party, but an universal benevolence; very often exercised in the most sensible and ardent love to his greatest opposers and enemies. His love and meekness were not a mere pretence, and outward profession and show; but they were effectual things, manifested in expensive and painful deeds of love and kindness; and in a meek behaviour; readily confessing faults under the greatest trials, and humbling himself even at the feet of those from whom he supposed he had suffered most; and from time to time very frequently praying for his enemies, abhorring the thoughts of bitterness or resentment towards them. I scarcely know where to look for any parallel instance of self-denial, in these respects, in the present age. He was a person of great zeal; but how did he abhor a bitter zeal, and lament it where he saw it! And though he was once drawn into some degrees of it, by the force of prevailing example, as it were in his childhood; yet how did he go about with a heart bruised and broken in pieces for it all his life after! Of how soft and tender a spirit was he! How far were his experiences, hopes, and joys, from a tendency finally to stupify and harden him, to lessen convictions and tenderness of conscience, to cause him to be less affected with present and past sins, and less conscientious with respect to future sins! How far were they from making him more easy, in neglect of duties that are troublesome and inconvenient, more slow and partial in complying with difficult commands, less apt to be alarmed at the appearance of his own defects and transgressions, more easily induced to a compliance with carnal appetites! On the contrary, how tender was his conscience! how apt was his heart to smite him! how easily and greatly was he alarmed at the appearance of moral evil! how great and constant was his jealousy over his own heart! how strict his care and watchfulness against sin! how deep and sensible were the wounds that sin made in his conscience! Those evils that are generally accounted small, were almost an insupportable burden to him; such as his inward deficiencies, his having no more love to God, finding within himself any slackness or dulness in religion, any unsteadiness, or wandering frame of mind, &c. how did the consideration of such things as these oppress and abase him, and fill him with inward shame and confusion! His love and hope, though they were such as cast out a servile fear of hell, yet were attended with, and abundantly cherished and promoted, a reverential filial fear of God, a dread of sin and of God's holy displeasure. His joy seemed truly to be a rejoicing with trembling. His assurance and comfort differed greatly from a false enthusiastic confidence and joy, in that it promoted and maintained mourning for sin. Holy mourning, with him, was not only the work of an hour or a day, at his first conversion; but sorrow for sin was like a wound constantly running; he was a mourner for sin all his days. He did not, after he received comfort and full satisfaction of the forgiveness of all his sins, and the safety of his state, forget his past sins, the sins of his youth, committed before his conversion; but the remembrance of them, from time to time, revived in his heart, with renewed grief. That passage (Ezek. xvi. 63..) was evidently fulfilled in him, "That thou mayest remember, and be confounded, and never open thy mouth any more, because of thy shame; when I am pacified toward thee for all that thou hast done." And how lastingly did the sins he committed after his conversion affect and break his heart! If he did any thing whereby he thought he had in any respect dishonoured God, and wounded the interest of religion, he had never done with calling it to mind with sorrow and bitterness; though he was assured that God had forgiven it, yet he never forgave himself: his past sorrows and fears made no satisfaction, with him; but still the wound renews and bleeds afresh, again and again. And his present sins, those he daily found in himself, were an occasion of daily sensible and deep sorrow of heart. His religion did hot consist in unaccountable flights and vehement pangs; suddenly rising, and suddenly falling; at times exalted almost to the third heavens, and then negligent, vain, carnal, and swallowed up with the world, for days and weeks, if not months together. His religion was not like a blazing meteor, or like a flaming comet, (or a wandering star, as the apostle Jude calls it, ver. 13..) flying through the firmament with a bright train, and then quickly departing into perfect darkness; but more like the steady lights of heaven, constant principles of light, though sometimes hid with clouds. Nor like a land-flood, which flows far and wide with a rapid stream, bearing down all before it, and then dries up; but more like a stream fed by living springs; which though sometimes increased by showers, and at other times diminished by drought, yet is a constant stream. His religious affections and joys were not like those of some, who have rapture and mighty emotions from time to time in company; but have very little affection in retirement and secret places. Though he was of a very sociable temper, and loved the company of saints, and delighted very much in religious conversation, and in social worship; yet his warmest affections, and their greatest effects on animal nature, and his sweetest joys, were in his closet devotions, and solitary transactions between God and his own soul: as is very observable through his whole course, from his conversion to his death. He delighted greatly in sacred retirements; and loved to get quite away from all the world, to converse with God alone, in secret duties. Mr. Brainerd's experiences and comforts were very far from being like those of some persons, which are attended with a spiritual satiety, and which put an end to their religious desires and longings, at least to the edge and ardency of them; resting satisfied in their own attainments and comforts, as having obtained their chief end, which is to extinguish their fears of hell, and give them confidence of the favour of God. How far were his religious affections, refreshments, and satisfactions, from such an operation and influence! On the contrary, how were they always attended with longings and thirstings after greater degrees of conformity to God! And the greater and sweeter his comforts were, the more vehement were his desires after holiness. For it is to be observed, that his longings were not so much after joyful discoveries of God's love, and clear views of his title to future advancement and eternal honours in heaven; as after more of present holiness, greater spirituality, a heart more engaged for God, to love, and exalt, and depend on him. His longings were for ability to serve God better, to do more for his glory, and to do all that he did with more of a regard to Christ as his righteousness and strength; and after the enlargement and advancement of Christ's kingdom in the earth. And his desires were not idle wishings, but such as were powerful and effectual, to animate him to the earnest, eager pursuit of these things, with utmost diligence and unfainting labour and self-denial. His comforts never put an end to his seeking after God, and striving to obtain his grace; but, on the contrary, greatly engaged him therein. SECT. IV. His religion did not consist in experience without practice. All his inward illuminations, affections, and comforts, seemed to have a direct tendency to practice, and to issue in it: and this, not merely a practice negatively good, free from gross acts of irreligion and immorality; but a practice positively holy and Christian, in a serious, devout, humble, meek, merciful, charitable, and beneficent conversation; making the service of God, and our Lord Jesus Christ, the great business of life, to which he was devoted, and which he pursued with the greatest earnestness and diligence to the end of his days, through all trials. In him was to be seen the right way of being lively in religion. His liveliness in religion did not consist merely, or mainly, in his being lively with the tongue, but in deed; not in being forward in profession and outward show, and abundant in declaring his own experiences; but chiefly in being active and abundant in the labours and duties of religion; "not slothful in business, but fervent in spirit, serving the Lord, and serving his generation, according to the will of God." By these things, many high pretenders to religion, and professors of extraordinary spiritual experience, may be sensible, that Mr. Brainerd did greatly condemn their kind of religion; and that not only in word, but by example, both living and dying; as the whole series of his Christian experience and practice, from his conversion to his death, appears a constant condemnation of it. It cannot be objected, that the reason why he so much disliked the religion of these pretenders, and why his own so much differed from it, was, that his experiences were not clear. There is no room to say, they were otherwise, in any respect, in which clearness of experience has been wont to be insisted on; whether it be the clearness of their nature or of their order, and the method his soul was at first brought to rest and comfort in his conversion. I am far from thinking, and so was he, that clearness of the order of experiences is, in any measure, of equal importance with the clearness of their nature. I have sufficiently declared in my discourse on Religious Affections, (which he expressly approved of and recommended,) that I do not suppose a sensible distinctness of the steps of the Spirit's operation and method of successive convictions and illuminations, is a necessary requisite to persons being received in full charity, as true saints; provided the nature of the things they profess be right, and their practice agreeable. Nevertheless, it is observable, (which cuts off all objection from such as would be most unreasonably disposed to object and cavil in the present case,) that Mr. Brainerd's experiences were not only clear in the latter respect, but remarkably so in the former: so that there is not perhaps one instance in five hundred true converts, that on this account can be paralleled with him. It cannot be pretended, that the reason why he so much abhorred and condemned the notions and experiences of those whose first faith consists in believing that Christ is theirs, and that Christ died for them; without any previous experience of union of heart to him, for his excellency, as he is in himself, and not for his supposed love to them and who judge of their interest in Christ, their justification, and God's love to them, not by their sanctification, and the exercises and fruits of grace, but by a supposed immediate witness of the Spirit, by inward suggestion was, that he was of a too legal spirit; either that he never was dead to the law, never experienced a thorough work of conviction, was never fully brought off from his own righteousness, and weaned from the old covenant, by a thorough legal humiliation; or that afterwards, he had no great degree of evangelical humiliation, not living in a deep sense of his own emptiness, wretchedness, poverty, and absolute dependence on the mere grace of God through Christ. For his convictions of sin, preceding his first consolations in Christ, were exceeding deep and thorough; his trouble and exercise of mind, by a sense of sin and misery, very great, and long continued; and the light let into his mind at his conversion, and in progressive sanctification, appears to have had its genuine humbling influence upon him, to have kept him low in his own eyes, not confiding in himself, but in Christ, "living by the faith of the Son of God, and looking for the mercy of the Lord Jesus to eternal life." Nor can it be pretended, that the reason why he condemned these and other things, which this sort of people call the very height of vital religion and the power of godliness, was, that he was a dead Christian, and lived in the dark (as they express themselves); that his experiences, though they might be true, were not great; that he did not live near to God, had but a small acquaintance with him, and had but a dim sight of spiritual things. If any, after they have read the preceding account of Mr. Brainerd's life, will venture to pretend thus, they will only show that they themselves are in the dark, and do indeed "put darkness for light, and light for darkness." It is common with this sort of people, if there are any whom they cannot deny to exhibit good evidences of true godliness who yet appear to dislike their notions and who condemn those things wherein they place the height of religion to insinuate, that they are afraid of the cross, and have a mind to curry favour with the world, and the like. But I presume this will not be pretended concerning Mr. Brainerd, by any one person that has read the preceding account of his life. It must needs appear a thing notorious to such, that he was an extraordinary, and almost unparalleled, instance (in these times, and these parts of the world) of the contrary disposition; and that, whether we consider what he has recorded of his inward experience, from time to time; or his practice, how he in fact took up and embraced the cross, and bore it constantly, in his great self-denials, labours, and sufferings for the name of Jesus, and went on without fainting, without repining, to his dying illness: how he did not only, from time to time, relinquish and renounce the world secretly, in his heart, with the full and fervent consent of all the powers of his soul; but openly and actually forsook the world, with its possessions, delights, and common comforts, to dwell as it were with wild beasts, in a howling wilderness; with constant cheerfulness complying with the numerous hardships of a life of toil and travel there, to promote the kingdom of his dear Redeemer. Besides, it appears by the preceding history, that he never did more condemn the things forementioned, never had a greater sense of their delusion, pernicious nature, and ill tendency, and never was more full of pity to those that are led away with them, than in his last illness, and at times when he had the nearest prospect of death, supposed himself to be on the very brink of eternity. Surely he did not condemn those things at these seasons, only to curry favour with the world. SECT. V. Besides what has been already related of Mr. Brainerd's sentiments in his dying state concerning true and false religion, we have his deliberate and solemn thoughts on this subject, further appearing by his preface to Mr. Shepard's diary, before mentioned; which, when he wrote it, he supposed to be (as it proved) one of the last things he should ever write. I shall here insert a part of that preface, as follows: "How much stress is laid by many upon some things as being effects and evidences of exalted degrees of religion, when they are so far from being of any importance in it, that they are really irreligious, a mixture of self-love, imagination, and spiritual pride, or perhaps the influence of Satan transformed into an angel of light; I say, how much stress is laid on these things by many, I shall not determine: but it is much to be feared, that while God was carrying on a glorious work of grace, and undoubtedly gathering a harvest of souls to himself, (which we should always remember with thankfulness,) numbers of others have at the same time been fatally deluded by the devices of the devil, and their own corrupt hearts. It is to be feared, that the conversions of some have no better foundation than this; viz. that after they have been under some concern for their souls for a while, and, it may be, manifested some very great and uncommon distress and agonies, they have on a sudden imagined they saw Christ, in some posture or other, perhaps on the cross, bleeding and dying for their sins; or it may be, smiling on them, and thereby signifying his love to them: and that these and the like things, though mere imaginations, which have nothing spiritual in them, have instantly removed all their fears and distresses, filled them with raptures of joy, and made them imagine, that they loved Christ with all their hearts; when the bottom of all was nothing but self-love. For when they imagined that Christ had been so good to them as to save them, and as it were to single them out of all the world, they could not but feel some kind of natural gratitude to him; although they never had any spiritual view of his divine glory, excellency, and beauty, and consequently never had any love to him for himself. Or that instead of having some such imaginary view of Christ as has been mentioned, in order to remove their distress, and give them joy, some having had a passage, or perhaps many passages, of Scripture brought to their minds with power, (as they express it,) such as that, "Son, be of good cheer, thy sins are forgiven thee," and the like, they have immediately applied these passages to themselves, supposing that God hereby manifested his peculiar favour to them, as if mentioned by name; never considering, that they are now giving heed to new revelations, there being no such thing revealed in the word of God, as that this or that particular person has, or ever shall have, his sins forgiven; nor yet remembering, that Satan can, with a great deal of seeming pertinency, (and perhaps also with considerable power,) bring Scripture to the minds of men, as he did to Christ himself. And thus these rejoice upon having some scripture suddenly suggested to them, or impressed upon their minds, supposing they are now the children of God, just as did the other upon their imaginary views of Christ. And it is said that some speak of seeing a great light which filled all the place where they were, and dispelled all their darkness, fears, and distresses, and almost ravished their souls. While others have had it warmly suggested to their minds, not by any passage of Scripture, but as it were by a whisper or voice from heaven, "That God loves them, that Christ is theirs," &c. which groundless imaginations and suggestions of Satan have had the same effect upon them, that the delusions before mentioned had on the others. And as is the conversion of this sort of persons, so are their after experiences; the whole being built upon imagination, strong impressions, and sudden suggestions made to their minds; whence they are usually extremely confident (as if immediately informed from God) not only of the goodness of their own state, but of their infallible knowledge, and absolute certainty, of the truth of every thing they pretend to, under the notion of religion; and thus all reasoning with some of them is utterly excluded. "But it is remarkable of these, that they are extremely deficient in regard of true poverty of spirit, a sense of exceeding vileness in themselves, such as frequently makes truly gracious souls to groan, being burdened; as also in regard of meekness, love, gentleness towards mankind, and tenderness of conscience in their ordinary affairs and dealings in the world. And it is rare to see them deeply concerned about the principles and ends of their actions, and under fears lest they should not eye the glory of God chiefly, but live to themselves; or this at least is the case in their ordinary conduct, whether civil or religious. But if any one of their particular notions, which their zeal has espoused, be attacked, they are then so conscientious, they must burn, if called to it, for its defence. Yet at the same time, when they are so extremely deficient in regard of these precious divine tempers which have been mentioned, they are usually full of zeal, concern, and fervency in the things of religion, and often discourse of them with much warmth and engagement: and to those who do not know, or do not consider, wherein the essence of true religion consists viz. in being conformed to the image of Christ, not in point of zeal and fervency only, but in all divine tempers and practices they often appear like the best of men." It is common with this sort of people to say, that "God is amongst them, his Spirit accompanies their exhortations, and other administrations, and they are sealed by the Holy Ghost," in the remarkable success they have, in the great affections that are stirred up in God's people, &c. but to insinuate, on the contrary, that "he is not with their opponents;" and particularly, "that God has forsaken the standing ministry; and that the time is come, when it is the will of God that they should be put down, and that God's people should forsake them; and that no more success is to be expected to attend their administrations." But where can they find an instance among all their most flaming exhorters, who has been sealed with so incontestable and wonderful success of his labours, as Mr. Brainerd, not only in quickening and comforting God's children, but also in a work of conviction and conversion, (which they own has in a great measure ceased for a long time among themselves,) with a most visible and astonishing manifestation of God's power? And this was on subjects extremely unprepared, and who had been brought up and lived, some of them to old age, in the deepest prejudices against the very first principles of Christianity; and yet we find the divine power accompanying his labours, producing the most remarkable and abiding change, turning the wilderness into a fruitful field, and causing that which was a desert indeed to bud and blossom as the rose! And this, although he was not only one of their greatest opponents in their errors; but also one of those they call the standing ministry; first examined and licensed to preach by such ministers, and sent forth among the heathen by such ministers; and afterwards ordained by such ministers; always directed by them, and united with them in their consistories and administrations: and even abhorring the practice of those who give out, that they ought to be renounced, and separated from, and that teachers may be ordained by laymen. It cannot be pretended by these men that Mr. Brainerd condemned their religion, only because he was not acquainted with them, and had not opportunity for full observation of the nature, operation, and tendency of their experiences; for he had abundant and peculiar opportunities of such observation and acquaintance. He lived through the late extraordinary time of religious commotion, and saw the beginning and end, the good and the bad of it. He had opportunity to see the various operations and effects that were wrought in this season, more extensively than any person I know of. His native place was about the middle of Connecticut; and he was much conversant in all parts of that colony. He was conversant in the eastern parts of it, after the religion which he condemned began much to prevail there. He was conversant with the zealous people on Long Island, from one end of the island to the other; and also in New Jersey and Pennsylvania; with people of various nations. He had special opportunities in some places in this province, (Massachusetts Bay,) where there has been very much of this sort of religion, and at a time when it greatly prevailed. He had conversed and disputed with abundance of this kind of people in various parts, as he told me; and also informed me, that he had seen something of the same appearances in some of the Indians, to whom he had preached, and had opportunity to see the beginning and end of them. Besides, Mr. Brainerd could speak more feelingly concerning these things, because there was once a time when he was drawn away into an esteem of them, and for a short season had united himself to this kind of people, and partook, in some respects, of their spirit and behaviour. But I proceed to another observation on the foregoing Memoirs. REFLECT. II. This history of Mr. Brainerd's may help us to make distinctions among the high religious affections, and remarkable impressions made on the minds of persons, in a time of great awakening, and revival of religion; and may convince us, that there are not only distinctions in theory, invented to save the credit of pretended revivals of religion, and what is called the experience of the operations of the Spirit; but distinctions that do actually take place in the course of events, and have a real and evident foundation in fact. Many do and will confound things, blend all together, and say, "It is all alike; it is all of the same sort." So there are many that say concerning the religion most generally prevailing among the Separatists, and the affections they manifest, "It is the same that was all over the land seven years ago." And some that have read Mr. Brainerd's Journal, giving an account of the extraordinary things that have come to pass among the Indians in New Jersey, say, "It is evidently the same thing that appeared in many places amongst the English, which has now proved naught, and come to that which is worse than nothing." And all the reason they have thus to determine all to be the same work, and the same spirit, is, that the one manifested high affections, and so do the other; the great affections of the one had some influence on their bodies, and so have the other; the one use the terms conviction, conversion, humiliation, corning to Christ, discoveries, experiences, &c. and so do the other; the impressions on the one are attended with a great deal of zeal, and so it is with the other; the affections of the one dispose them to speak much about things of religion, and so do the other; the one delight much in religious meetings, and so do the other. The agreement that appears in these, and such like things, make them conclude, that surely all is alike, all is the same work. Whereas, on a closer inspection and critical examination, it would appear, that notwithstanding an agreement in such circumstances, yet indeed there is a vast difference, both in essence and fruits. A considerable part of the religious operations that were six or seven years ago, especially towards the latter part of that extraordinary season, was doubtless of the same sort with the religion of the Separatists; but not all: there were many, whose experiences were, like Mr. Brainerd's, in a judgment of charity, genuine and incontestable. Not only do the opposers of all religion consisting in powerful operations and affections, thus confound things; but many of the pretenders to such religion do so. They who have been the subjects of some sort of vehement, but vain operations on their mind, when they hear the relation of the experiences of some real and eminent Christians, say, that their experiences are of the same sort: and that they are just like the experiences of eminent Christians in former times, of which we have printed accounts. So, I doubt not, but there are many deluded people, if they should read the preceding account of Mr. Brainerd's life, who, reading without much understanding, or careful observation, would say, without hesitation, that some things which they have met with, are of the very same kind with what he expresses: when the agreement is only in some general circumstances, or some particular things that are superficial, and belonging as it were to the profession and outside of religion; but the inward temper of mind, and the fruits in practice, are as opposite and distant as east and west. Many honest, good people also, and true Christians, do not very well know how to make a difference. The glistering appearance of false religion dazzles their eyes; and they sometimes are so deluded by it, that they look on some of these impressions, which hypocrites tell of, as the brightest experiences. And though they have experienced no such things themselves, they think, it is because they are vastly lower in attainments, and but babes, in comparison of these flaming Christians. Yea, sometimes from their differing so much from those who make so great a show, they doubt whether they have any grace at all. And it is a hard thing, to bring many well-meaning people to make proper distinctions in this case; and especially to maintain and stand by them. Through a certain weakness under which they unhappily labour, they are liable to be overcome with the glare of outward appearances. Thus, if in a sedate hour they are by reasoning brought to allow such and such distinctions, yet the next time they come in the way of the great show of false religion, the dazzling appearance swallows them up, and they are carried away. Thus the devil by his cunning artifices, easily dazzles the feeble sight of men, and puts them beyond a capacity of a proper exercise of consideration, or hearkening to the dictates of calm thought, and cool understanding. When they perceive the great affection, earnest talk, strong voice, assured looks, vast confidence, and bold assertions, of these empty assuming pretenders, they are overborne, lose the possession of their judgment, and say, "Surely these men are in the right, God is with them of a truth:" and so they are carried away, not with light and reason, but, like children, as it were with a strong wind. This confounding of all things together, that have a fair show, is but acting the part of a child, that going into a shop, where a variety of wares are exposed to sale all of a shining appearance; vessels of gold and silver; diamonds and other precious stones; toys of little value, which are of some base metal gilt; glass polished and painted with curious colours, or cut like diamonds, &c. should esteem all alike, and give as great a price for the vile as for the precious. Or it is like the conduct of some unskilful, rash person, who, finding himself deceived by some of the wares he had bought at that shop, should at once conclude all he there saw was of no value; and pursuant to such a conclusion, when afterwards he has true gold and diamonds offered him, enough to enrich him and enable him to live like a prince all his days, he should throw it all into the sea. But we must get into another way. The want of distinguishing in things that appertain to experimental religion, is one of the chief miseries of the professing world. It is attended with very many most dismal consequences: multitudes of souls are fatally deluded about themselves, and their own state; and thus are eternally undone. Hypocrites are confirmed in their delusions, and exceedingly puffed up with pride; many sincere Christians are dreadfully perplexed, darkened, tempted, and drawn aside from the way of duty; and sometimes sadly tainted with false religion, to the great dishonour of Christianity, and hurt of their own souls. Some of the most dangerous and pernicious enemies of religion in the world (though called bright Christians) are encouraged and honoured; who ought to be discountenanced and shunned by every body: and prejudices are begotten and confirmed in vast multitudes, against every thing wherein the power and essence of godliness consists; and in the end deism and atheism are promoted. REFLECT. III. The foregoing account of Mr. Brainerd's life may afford matter of conviction, that there is indeed such a thing as true experimental religion, arising from immediate divine influences, supernaturally enlightening and convincing the mind, and powerfully impressing, quickening, sanctifying, and governing the heart; which religion is indeed an amiable thing, of happy tendency, and of no hurtful consequence to human society; notwithstanding there having been so many pretences and appearances of what is called experimental, vital religion, that have proved to be nothing but vain, pernicious enthusiasm. If any insist, that Mr. Brainerd's religion was enthusiasm, and nothing but a strange heat and blind fervour of mind, arising from strong fancies, &c. I would ask, What were the fruits of his enthusiasm? In him we behold a great degree of honesty and simplicity, sincere and earnest desires and endeavours to know and do whatever is right, and to avoid every thing that is wrong; a high degree of love to God, delight in the perfections of his nature, placing the happiness of life in him; not only in contemplating him, but in being active in pleasing and serving him; a firm and undoubting belief in the Messiah, as the Saviour of the world, the great Prophet of God, and King of God's church; together with great love to him, delight and complacence in the way of salvation by him, and longing for the enlargement of his kingdom; earnest desires that God may be glorified and the Messiah's kingdom advanced, whatever instruments are employed; uncommon resignation to the will of God, and that under vast trials; great and universal benevolence to mankind, reaching all sorts of persons without distinction, manifested in sweetness of speech and behaviour, kind treatment, mercy, liberality, and earnest seeking the good of the souls and bodies of men. And all this we behold attended with extraordinary humility, meekness, forgiveness of injuries, and love to enemies; and a great abhorrence of a contrary spirit and practice; not only as appearing in others, but whereinsoever it had appeared in himself; causing the most bitter repentance, and brokenness of heart on account of any past instances of such a conduct. In him we see a modest, discreet, and decent deportment, among superiors, inferiors, and equals; a most diligent improvement of time, and earnest care to lose no part of it; great watchfulness against all sorts of sin, of heart, speech, and action. And this example and these endeavours we see attended with most happy fruits, and blessed effects on others, in humanizing, civilizing, and wonderfully reforming and transforming some of the most brutish savages; idle, immoral, drunkards, murderers, gross idolaters, and wizards; bringing them to permanent sobriety, diligence, devotion, honesty, conscientiousness, and charity. And the foregoing amiable virtues and successful labours, all end at last in a marvellous peace, unmovable stability, calmness, and resignation, in the sensible approaches of death; with longing for the heavenly state; not only for the honours and circumstantial advantages of it, but above all for the moral perfection, and holy and blessed employments of it. And these things are seen in a person indisputably of good understanding and judgment. I therefore say, if all these things are the fruits of enthusiasm, why should not enthusiasm be thought a desirable and excellent thing? For what can true religion, what can the best philosophy, do more? If vapours and whimsy will bring men to the most thorough virtue, to the most benign and fruitful morality; and will maintain it through a course of life attended with many trials, without affectation or self-exaltation, and with an earnest, constant testimony against the wildness, the extravagances, the bitter zeal, assuming behaviour, and separating spirit of enthusiasts; and will do all this more effectually, than any thing else has ever done in any plain known instance that can be produced; what cause then has the world to prize and pray for this blessed whimsicalness, and these benign vapours? It would perhaps be a prejudice with some against the whole of Mr. Brainerd's religion, if it had begun in the time of the late religious commotion; being ready to conclude, however unreasonable, that nothing good could take its rise from those times. But it was not so; his conversion was before those times, in a time of general deadness; and therefore at a season when it was impossible that he should receive a taint from any corrupt notions, examples, or customs, that had birth in those times. And whereas there are many who are not professed opposers of what is called experimental religion, who yet doubt of the reality of it, from the bad lives of some professors; and are ready to determine that there is nothing in all the talk about being born again, being emptied of self, brought to a saving close with Christ, &c. because many that pretend to these things, and are thought by others to have been the subjects of them, manifest no abiding alteration in their moral disposition and behaviour; are as careless, carnal, covetous, &c. as ever; yea, some much worse than ever: it is to be acknowledged and lamented, that this is the case with some; but by the preceding account they may be sensible, that it is not so with all. There are some indisputable instances of such a change, as the Scripture speaks of; an abiding great change, a "renovation of the spirit of the mind," and a "walking in newness of life." In the foregoing instance particularly, they may see the abiding influence of such a work of conversion, as they have heard of from the word of God; the fruits of such experiences through a course of years; under a great variety of circumstances, many changes of state, place, and company; and may see the blessed issue and event of it in life and death. REFLECT. IV. The preceding history serves to confirm those doctrine usually called the doctrine of grace. For if it be allowed that there is truth, substance, or value in the main of Mr. Brainerd's religion, it will undoubtedly follow, that those doctrine are divine: since it is evident, that the whole of it, from beginning to end, is according to that scheme of things; all built on those apprehensions, notions, and views, that are produced and established in the mind by those doctrine. He was brought by doctrine of this kind to his awakening, and deep concern about things of a spiritual and eternal nature; and by these doctrine his convictions were maintained and carried on; and his conversion was evidently altogether agreeable to this scheme, but by no means agreeing with the contrary, and utterly inconsistent with the Arminian notion of conversion or repentance. His conversion was plainly founded in a clear strong conviction, and undoubting persuasion of the truth of those things appertaining to these doctrine, against which Arminians most object, and about which his own mind had contended most. His conversion was no confirming and perfecting of moral principles and habits, by use and practice, and industrious discipline, together with the concurring suggestions and conspiring aids of God's Spirit; but entirely a supernatural work, at once turning him from darkness to marvellous light, and from the power of sin to the dominion of divine and holy principles. It was an effect, in no regard produced by his strength or labour, or obtained by his virtue; and not accomplished till he was first brought to a full conviction, that all his own virtue, strength, labours, and endeavours, could never avail any thing towards producing or procuring this effect. A very little while before, his mind was full of the same cavils against the doctrine of God's sovereign grace, which are made by Arminians; and his heart full even of opposition to them. And God was pleased to perform this good work in him, just after a full end had been put to this cavilling and opposition; after he was entirely convinced, that he was dead in sin, and was in the hands of God, as the absolutely sovereign, unobliged, sole disposer and author of true holiness. God showing him mercy at such a time, is a confirmation, that this was a preparation for mercy; and consequently, that these things which he was convinced of, were true. While he opposed, he was the subject of no such mercy; though he so earnestly sought it, and prayed for it with so much care, and strictness in religion: but when once his opposition is fully subdued, and he is brought to submit to the truths, which he before had opposed, with full conviction, then the mercy he sought for is granted, with abundant light, great evidence, and exceeding joy; and he reaps the sweet fruit of it all his life after, and in the valley of the shadow of death. In his conversion, he was brought to see the glory of that way of salvation by Christ, that is taught in what are called the doctrine of grace; and thenceforward, with unspeakable joy and complacence, to embrace and acquiesce in that way of salvation. He was, in his conversion, in all respects, brought to those views, and that state of mind, which these doctrine show to be necessary. And if his conversion was any real conversion, or any thing besides a mere whim, and if the religion of his life was any thing else but a series of freaks of a whimsical mind, then this one grand principle, on which depends the whole difference between Calvinists and Arminians, is undeniable, viz. that the grace or virtue of truly good men not only differs from the virtue of others in degree, but even in nature and kind. If ever Mr. Brainerd was truly turned from sin to God at all, or ever became truly religious, none can reasonably doubt but that his conversion was at the time when he supposed it to be: the change he then experienced, was evidently the greatest moral change that ever he passed under; and he was then apparently first brought to that kind of religion, that remarkable new habit and temper of mind, which he held all his life after. The narration shows it to be different, in nature and kind, from all that ever he was the subject of before. It was evidently wrought at once, without fitting and preparing his mind, by gradually convincing it more and more of the same truths, and bringing it nearer and nearer to such a temper. For it was soon after his mind had been remarkably full of blasphemy, and a vehement exercise of sensible enmity against God, and great opposition to those truths which he was now brought with his whole soul to embrace, and rest in as divine and glorious; truths, in the contemplation and improvement of which, he placed his happiness. And he himself (who was surely best able to judge) declares, that the dispositions and affections which were then given him, and thenceforward maintained in him, were, most sensibly and certainly, perfectly different in their nature from all that ever he was the subject of before, or of which he had ever had any conception. In this he was peremptory, even to his death. He must be looked upon as capable of judging; he had opportunity to know: he had practised a great deal of religion before, was exceeding strict and conscientious, and had continued so for a long time; had various religious affections, with which he often flattered himself, and sometimes pleased himself as being now in a good estate. And after he had those new experiences, that began in his conversion, they were continued to the end of his life; long enough for him thoroughly to observe their nature, and compare them with what had been before. Doubtless he was compos mentis; and was at least one of so good an understanding and judgment, as to be pretty well capable of discerning and comparing the things that passed in his own mind. It is further observable, that his religion all along operated in such a manner as tended to confirm his mind in the doctrine of God's absolute sovereignty, man's universal and entire dependence on God's power and grace, &c. The more his religion prevailed in his heart, and the fuller he was of divine love, and of clear and delightful views of spiritual things, and the more his heart was engaged in God's service; the more sensible he was of the certainty and the excellency and importance of these truths, and the more he was affected with them, and rejoiced in them. And he declares particularly, that when he lay for a long while on the verge of the eternal world, often expecting to be in that world in a few minutes, yet at the same time enjoying great serenity of mind, and clearness of thought, and being most apparently in a peculiar manner at a distance from an enthusiastical frame, he "at that time saw clearly the truth of those great doctrine of the gospel, which are justly styled the doctrine of grace, and never felt himself so capable of demonstrating the truth of them." So that it is very evident, Mr. Brainerd's religion was wholly correspondent to what is called the Calvinistical scheme, and was the effect of those doctrine applied to his heart: and certainly it cannot be denied, that the effect was good, unless we turn atheists, or deists. I would ask, whether there be any such thing, in reality, as Christian devotion? If there be, what is it? what is its nature? and what its just measure? should it not be in a great degree? We read abundantly in Scripture of "loving God with all the heart, with all the soul, with all the mind, and with all the strength; of delighting in God, of rejoicing in the Lord, rejoicing with joy unspeakable and full of glory; the soul magnifying the Lord, thirsting for God, hungering and thirsting after righteousness; the soul breaking for the longing it hath to God's judgments, praying to God with groanings that cannot be uttered, mourning for sin with a broken heart and contrite spirit," &c. How full is the book of Psalms, and other parts of Scripture, of such things as these! Now wherein do these things, as expressed by and appearing in Mr. Brainerd, either the things themselves, or their effects and fruits, differ from the scripture representations? These things he was brought to by that strange and wonderful transformation of the man, which he called his conversion. And do not these well agree with what is so often said in the Old Testament and the New, concerning the "giving of a new heart, creating a right spirit, a being renewed in the spirit of the mind, a being sanctified throughout, becoming a new creature?" &c. Now where is there to be found an Arminian conversion or repentance, consisting in so great and admirable a change? Can the Arminians produce an instance, within this age, and so plainly within our reach and view, of such a reformation, such a transformation of a man, to scriptural devotion, heavenly-mindedness, and true Christian morality, in one that before lived without these things, on the foot of their principles, and through the influence of their doctrine? And here is worthy to be considered the effect of Calvinistical doctrine (as they are called) not only on Mr. Brainerd himself, but also on others, whom he taught. It is abundantly pretended and asserted of late, that these doctrine tend to undermine the very foundations of all religion and morality, and to enervate and vacate all reasonable motives to the exercise and practice of them, and lay invincible stumbling-blocks before infidels, to hinder their embracing Christianity; and that the contrary doctrine are the fruitful principles of virtue and goodness, set religion on its right basis, represent it in an amiable light, give its motives their full force, and recommend it to the reason and common sense of mankind. But where can they find an instance of so great and signal an effect of their doctrine, in bringing infidels, who were at such a distance from all that is civil, sober, rational, and Christian, and so full of inveterate prejudices against these things, to such a degree of humanity, civility, exercise of reason, self-denial, and Christian virtue? Arminians place religion in morality: let them bring an instance of their doctrine producing such a transformation of a people in point of morality. It is strange, if the all-wise God so orders things in his providence, that reasonable and proper means, and his own means, which he himself has appointed, should in no known remarkable instance be instrumental to produce so good an effect; an effect so agreeable to his own word and mind, and that very effect for which he appointed these excellent means; that they should not be so successful, as those means which are not his own, but very contrary to them, and of a contrary tendency; means that are in themselves very absurd, and tend to root all religion and virtue out of the world, to promote and establish infidelity, and to lay an insuperable stumbling-block before pagans, to hinder their embracing the gospel: I say, if this be the true state of the case, it is certainly wonderful, and an event worthy of some attention. I know, that many will be ready to say, "It is too soon yet to glory in the work, that has been wrought among Mr. Brainerd's Indians; it is best to wait and see the final event; it may be, all will come to nothing by and by." To which I answer, (not to insist, that it will not follow, according to Arminian principles, they are not now true Christians, really pious and godly, though they should fall away and come to nothing,) that I never supposed every one of those Indians, who in profession renounced their heathenism and visibly embraced Christianity, and have had some appearance of piety, will finally prove true converts. If two thirds, or indeed one half of them (as great a proportion as there is in the parable of the ten virgins) should persevere; it will be sufficient to show the work wrought among them to have been truly admirable and glorious. But so much of permanence of their religion has already appeared, as shows it to be something else besides an Indian humour or good mood, or any transient effect in the conceits, notions, and affections of these ignorant people, excited at a particular turn, by artful management. For it is now more than three years ago, that this work began among them, and a remarkable change appeared in many of them; since which time the number of visible converts has greatly increased: and by repeated accounts, from several hands, they still generally persevere in diligent religion and strict virtue. I think a letter from a young gentleman, a candidate for the ministry, one of those before mentioned, appointed by the honourable commissioners in Boston, as missionaries to the heathen of the Six Nations, so called, worthy of insertion here. He, by their order, dwelt with Mr. John Brainerd among these Christian Indians, in order to their being prepared for the business of their mission. The letter was written from thence, to his parents here in Northampton, and is as follows: bethel, in New Jersey, Jan. 14, 1748. Honoured and dear Parents, "After a long and uncomfortable journey, by reason of bad weather, I arrived at Mr. Brainerd's the sixth instant; where I design to stay this winter: and as yet, upon many accounts, am well satisfied with my coming hither. The state and circumstances of the Indians, spiritual and temporal, much exceed what I expected. I have endeavoured to acquaint myself with the state of the Indians in general, with particular persons, and with the school, as much as the short time I have been here would admit of. And notwithstanding my expectations were very much raised, from Mr. David Brainerd's Journal, and from particular informations from him; yet I must confess, that in many respects they are not equal to that which now appears to me to be true, concerning the glorious work of divine grace amongst the Indians. "The evening after I came to town, I had opportunity to see the Indians together, whilst the Reverend Mr. Arthur preached to them: at which time there appeared a very general and uncommon seriousness and solemnity in the congregation: and this appeared to me to be the effect of an inward sense of the importance of divine truths, and not because they were hearing a stranger; which was abundantly confirmed to me the next sabbath, when there was the same devout attendance on divine service, and a surprising solemnity appearing in the performance of each part of divine worship. And some, who are hopefully true Christians, appear to have been at that time much enlivened and comforted; not from any observable commotions then, but from conversation afterwards: and others seemed to be under pressing concern for their souls. I have endeavoured to acquaint myself with particular persons; many of whom seem to be very humble and growing Christians; although some of them (as I am informed) were before their conversion most monstrously wicked. "Religious conversation seems to be very pleasing and delightful to many, and especially that which relates to the exercises of the heart. And many here do not seem to be real Christians only, but growing Christians also; as well in doctrinal as experimental knowledge. Besides my conversation with particular persons, I have had opportunity to attend upon one of Mr. Brainerd's catechetical lectures; where I was surprised at their readiness in answering questions to which they had not been used; although Mr. Brainerd complained much of their uncommon deficiency. It is surprising to see this people, who not long since were led captive by Satan at his will, and living in the practice of all manner of abominations, without the least sense even of moral honesty, yet now living soberly and regularly, and not seeking every man his own, but every man, in some sense, his neighbour's good; and to see those, who but a little while past knew nothing of the true God, now worshipping him in a solemn and devout manner; not only in public, but in their families and in secret; which is manifestly the case, it being a difficult thing to walk out in the woods in the morning, without disturbing persons at their secret devotion. And it seems wonderful, that this should be the case, not only with adult persons, but with children also. It is observable here, that many children (if not the children in general) retire into secret places to pray. And, as far as at present I can judge, this is not the effect of custom and fashion, but of real seriousness and thoughtfulness about their souls. "I have frequently gone into the school, and have spent considerable time there amongst the children; and nave been surprised to see, not only their diligent attendance upon the business of the school, but also the proficiency they have made in it, in reading and writing and in their catechisms of divers sorts. It seems to be as pleasing and as natural to these children, to have their books in their hands, as it does for many others to be at play. I have gone into a house where there has been a number of children accidentally gathered together; and observed, that every one had his book in his hand, and was diligently studying it About thirty of these children can answer to all the questions in the Assembly's Catechism; and the greater part of them are able to do it with the proofs, to the fourth commandment. I wish there were many such schools; I confess, that I never was acquainted with such an one, in many respects. Oh that what God has done here, may prove to be the beginning of a far more glorious and extensive work of grace among the heathen! " I am your obedient and dutiful son, "JOB STRONG." "P. S. Since the date of this, I have had opportunity to attend upon another of Mr. Brainerd's catechetical lectures: and truly I was convinced, that Mr. Brainerd did not complain before of his people's defects in answering to questions proposed, without reason: for although their answers at that time exceeded my expectations very much; yet their performances at this lecture very much exceeded them." Since this we have had accounts from time to time, and some very late, which show that religion still continues in prosperous and most desirable circumstances among these Indians. REFLECT. V. Is there not much in the preceding memoirs of Mr. Brainerd to teach, and excite to duty, us who are called to the work of the ministry, and all that are candidates for that great work? What a deep sense did he seem to have of the greatness and importance of that work, and with what weight did it lie on his mind! How sensible was he of his own insufficiency for this work; and how great was his dependence on God's sufficiency! How solicitous, that he might be fitted for it! and to this end, how much time did he spend in prayer and fasting, as well as reading and meditation; giving himself to these things! How did he dedicate his whole life, all his powers and talents, to God; and forsake and renounce the world, with all its pleasing and insnaring enjoyments, that he might be wholly at liberty to serve Christ in this work; and to "please him who had chosen him to be a soldier, under the Captain of our salvation!" With what solicitude, solemnity, and diligence did he devote himself to God our Saviour, and seek his presence and blessing in secret, at the time of his ordination! and how did his whole heart appear to be constantly engaged, his whole time employed, and his whole strength spent, in the business he then solemnly undertook, and to which he was publicly set apart! And his history shows us the right way to success in the work of the ministry. He sought it as a resolute soldier seeks victory in a siege or battle; or as a man that runs a race, for a great prize. Animated with love to Christ and souls, how did he "labour always fervently," not only in word and doctrine, in public and private, but in prayers day and night, "wrestling with God" in secret, and "travailing in birth," with unutterable groans and agonies, "until Christ were formed" in the hearts of the people to whom he was sent! how did he thirst for a blessing on his ministry; and "watch for souls, as one that must give account!" how did he "go forth in the strength of the Lord God;" seeking and depending on a special influence of the Spirit to assist and succeed him! And what was the happy fruit at last, though after long waiting, and many dark and discouraging appearances? Like a true son of Jacob, he persevered in wrestling, through all the darkness of the night, until the breaking of the day. And his example of labouring, praying, denying himself, and enduring hardness, with unfainting resolution and patience, and his faithful, vigilant, and prudent conduct in many other respects, (which it would be too long now particularly to recite,) may afford instruction to missionaries in particular. REFLECT. VI. The foregoing account of Mr. Brainerd's life may afford instruction to Christians in general; as it shows, in many respects, the right way of practising religion, in order to obtain the ends and receive the benefits of it; or how Christians should "run the race set before them," if they would not "run in vain, or run as uncertainly," but would honour God in the world, adorn their profession, be serviceable to mankind, have the comforts of religion while they live, be free from disquieting doubts and dark apprehensions about the state of their souls, enjoy peace in the approaches of death, and "finish their course with joy." In general, he much recommended, for this purpose, the redemption of time, great diligence in the business of the Christian life, watchfulness, &c. And he very remarkably exemplified these things. But particularly, his example and success with regard to one duty, in an especial manner, may be of great use to both ministers and private Christians; I mean the duty of secret fasting. The reader has seen, how much Mr. Brainerd recommends this duty, and how frequently he exercised himself in it; nor can it well have escaped observation, how much he was owned and blessed in it, and of what great benefit it evidently was to his soul. Among all the many days he spent in secret fasting and prayer, that he gives an account of in his diary, there is scarce an instance of one, but what was either attended or soon followed with apparent success, and a remarkable blessing, in special incomes and consolations of God's Spirit: and very often, before the day was ended. But it must be observed, that when he set about this duty, he did it in good earnest; "stirring up himself to take hold of God," and "continuing instant in prayer," with much of the spirit of Jacob, who said to the angel, "I will not let thee go, except thou bless me." REFLECT. VII. There is much in the preceding account to excite and encourage God's people to earnest prayers and endeavours for the advancement and enlargement of the kingdom of Christ in the world. Mr. Brainerd set us an excellent example in this respect; he sought the prosperity of Zion with all his might; he preferred Jerusalem above his chief joy. How did his soul long for it, and pant after it! and how earnestly and often did he wrestle with God for it! and how far did he, in these desires and prayers, seem to be carried beyond all private and selfish views! being animated by a pure love to Christ, an earnest desire of his glory, and a disinterested affection to the souls of mankind. The consideration of this not only ought to be an incitement to the people of God, but may also be a just encouragement to them to be much in seeking and praying for a general outpouring of the Spirit of God, and extensive revival of religion. I confess that God giving so much of a spirit of prayer for this mercy to so eminent a servant of his, and exciting him in so extraordinary a manner, and with such vehement thirstings of soul, to agonize in prayer for it from time to time, through the course of his life, is one thing, among others, which gives me great hope, that God has a design of accomplishing something very glorious for the interest of his church before long. One such instance as this, I conceive, gives more encouragement, than the common, cold, formal prayers of thousands. As Mr. Brainerd's desires and prayers for the coming of Christ's kingdom, were very special and extraordinary; so, I think, we may reasonably hope, that the God who excited those desires and prayers, will answer them with something special and extraordinary. And in a particular manner do I think it worthy of notice for our encouragement, that he had his heart (as he declared) unusually drawn out in longings and prayers for the flourishing of Christ's kingdom on earth, when he was in the approaches of death; and that with his dying breath he breathed out his departing soul into the bosom of his Redeemer, in prayers and pantings after this glorious event; expiring in very great hope, that it would soon begin to be fulfilled. And I wish, that the thoughts which he in his dying state expressed of that explicit agreement, and visible union of God's people, in extraordinary prayer for a general revival of religion, lately proposed in a memorial from Scotland, which has been dispersed among us, may be well considered by those that hitherto have not seen fit to fall in with that proposal. But I forbear to say any more on this head, having already largely published my thoughts upon it, in a discourse written on purpose to promote that affair; which, I confess, I wish that every one of my readers might be supplied with; not that my honour, but that this excellent design, might be promoted. As there is much in Mr. Brainerd's life to encourage Christians to seek the advancement of Christ's kingdom, in general; so there is, in particular, to pray for the conversion of the Indians on this continent, and to exert themselves in the use of proper means for its accomplishment. For it appears, that he in his unutterable longings and wrestlings of soul for the flourishing of religion, had his mind peculiarly intent on the conversion and salvation of these people, and his heart more especially engaged in prayer for them. And if we consider the degree and manner in which he, from time to time, sought and hoped for an extensive work of grace among them, I think we have reason to hope, that the wonderful things which God wrought among them by him, are but a forerunner of something yet much more glorious and extensive of that kind; and this may justly be an encouragement to well-disposed, charitable persons, to "honour the Lord with their substance," by contributing, as they are able, to promote the spreading of the gospel among them; and this also may incite and encourage gentlemen who are incorporated, and intrusted with the care and disposal of those liberal benefactions, which have already been made by pious persons, to that end; and likewise the missionaries themselves, that are or may be employed; and it may be of direction unto both, as to the proper qualifications of missionaries, and the proper measures to be taken in order to their success. One thing, in particular, I would take occasion from the foregoing history to mention and propose to the consideration of such as have the care of providing and sending missionaries among savages; viz. Whether it would not ordinarily be best to send two together? It is pretty manifest, that Mr. Brainerd's going, as he did, alone into the howling wilderness, was one great occasion of a prevailing melancholy on his mind; which was his greatest disadvantage. He spoke much of it himself, when he was here in his dying state; and expressed himself to this purpose, that none could conceive of the disadvantage a missionary in such circumstances was under, by being alone; especially as it exposed him to discouragement and melancholy: and spoke of the wisdom of Christ in sending forth his disciples by two and two; and left it as his dying advice to his brother, never to go to Susquehannah, to travel about in that remote wilderness, to preach to the Indians there, as he had often done, without the company of a fellow-missionary. REFLECT. VIII. One thing more may not be unprofitably observed in the preceding account of Mr. Brainerd; and that is, the special and remarkable disposal of Divine Providence, with regard to the circumstances of his last sickness and death. Though he had been long infirm, his constitution being much broken by his fatigues and hardships; and though he was often brought very low by illness, before he left Kaunaumeek, and also while he lived at the Forks of Delaware: yet his life was preserved, till he had seen that which he had so long and greatly desired and sought, a glorious work of grace among the Indians, and had received the wished-for blessing of God on his labours. Though as it were "in deaths oft," yet he lived to behold the happy fruits of the long-continued travail of his soul and labour of his body, in the wonderful conversion of many of the heathen, and the happy effect of it in the great change of their conversation, with many circumstances which afforded a fair prospect of the continuance of God's blessing upon them; as may appear by what I shall presently further observe. Thus he did not "depart, till his eyes had seen God's salvation." Though it was the pleasure of God, that he should be taken off from his labours among that people to whom God had made him a spiritual father, who were so dear to him, and for whose spiritual welfare he was so greatly concerned; yet this was not before they were well initiated and instructed in the Christian religion, thoroughly weaned from their old heathenish and brutish notions and practices, and all their prejudices and jealousies, which tended to keep their minds unsettled, were fully removed. They were confirmed and fixed in the Christian faith and manners, were formed into a church, had ecclesiastical ordinances and discipline introduced and settled; were brought into a good way with respect to the education of children, had a schoolmaster excellently qualified for the business, and had a school set up and established, in good order, among them. They had been well brought off from their former idle, strolling, sottish way of living; had removed from their former scattered, uncertain habitations; and were collected in a town by themselves, on a good piece of land of their own; were introduced into the way of living by husbandry, and begun to experience the benefits of it, &c. These things were but just brought to pass by his indefatigable application and care, and then he was taken off from his work by illness. If this had been but a little sooner, they would by no means have been so well prepared for such a dispensation; and it probably would have been unspeakably more to the hurt of their spiritual interest, and of the cause of Christianity among them. The time and circumstances of his illness were so ordered, that he had just opportunity to finish his Journal, and prepare it for the press; giving an account of the marvellous display of divine power and grace among the Indians in New Jersey, and at the Forks of Delaware. His doing this was of great consequence, and therefore urged upon him by the correspondents, who have honoured his Journal with a preface. The world being particularly and justly informed of that affair by Mr. Brainerd, before his death, a foundation was hereby laid for a concern in others for that cause, and proper care and measures to be taken for maintaining it after his death. As it has actually proved to be of great influence and benefit in this respect; for it has excited and engaged many in those parts, and also more distant parts of America, to exert themselves for upholding and promoting the good and glorious work, remarkably opening their hearts and hands to that end: and not only in America, but in Great Britain, where that Journal (which I have earnestly recommended to my readers) has been an occasion of some large benefactions, made for the promoting the interest of Christianity among the Indians. If Mr. Brainerd had been taken ill but a little sooner, he had not been able to complete his Journal, and prepare a copy for the press. He was not taken off from the work of the ministry among his people, till his brother was in a capacity and circumstances to succeed him in his care of them: who succeeds him in the like spirit, and under whose prudent and faithful care his congregation has flourished, and been very happy, since he left them; and probably could not have been so well provided for otherwise. If Mr. Brainerd had been disabled sooner, his brother would by no means have been ready to stand up in his place; having taken his first degree at college but about that very time that he was seized with his fatal consumption. Though in that winter that he lay sick at Mr. Dickinson's in Elizabeth-town, he continued for a long time in an extremely low state, so that his life was almost despaired of, and his state was sometimes such that it was hardly expected he would live a day; yet his life was spared a while longer: he lived to see his brother arrived in New Jersey, being come to succeed him in the care of his Indians; and he himself had opportunity to assist in his examination and introduction into his business; and to commit the conduct of his dear people to one whom he well knew, and could put confidence in, and use freedom with, in giving him particular instructions and charges, and under whose care he could leave his congregation with great cheerfulness. The providence of God was remarkable in so ordering it, that before his death he should take a journey into New England, and go to Boston; which was, in many respects, of very great and happy consequence to the interest of religion, and especially among his own people. By this means, as before observed, he was brought into acquaintance with many persons of note and influence, ministers and others, belonging both to the town and various parts of the country; and had opportunity, under the best advantages, to bear a testimony for God and true religion, and against those false appearances of it that have proved most pernicious to the interest of Christ's kingdom in the land. And the providence of God is particularly observable in this circumstance of the testimony he there bore for true religion, viz. that he there was brought so near the grave, and continued for so long a time on the very brink of eternity; and from time to time, looked on himself, and was looked on by others, as just leaving the world; and that in these circumstances he should be so particularly directed and assisted in his thoughts and views of religion, to distinguish between the true and the false, with such clearness and evidence; and that after this he should be unexpectedly and surprisingly restored and strengthened, so far as to be able to converse freely. Then he had an opportunity, and special occasions, to declare the sentiments he had in these, which, to human apprehension, were his dying circumstances; and to bear his testimony concerning the nature of true religion, and concerning the mischievous tendency of its most prevalent counterfeits and false appearances; as things he had a special, clear, distinct view of at that time, when he expected in a few minutes to be in eternity; and the certainty and importance of which were then, in a peculiar manner, impressed on his mind. Among the happy consequences of his going to Boston, were those liberal benefactions that have been mentioned, which were made by piously disposed persons, for maintaining and promoting the interest of religion among his people: and also the meeting of a number of gentlemen in Boston, of note and ability, to consult upon measures for that purpose; who were excited by their acquaintance and conversation with Mr. Brainerd, and by the account of the great things God had wrought by his ministry, to unite themselves, that by their joint endeavours and contributions they might promote the kingdom of Christ, and the spiritual good of their fellow-creatures, among the Indians in New Jersey, and elsewhere. It was also remarkable, that Mr. Brainerd should go to Boston at that time, after the honourable commissioners there, of the corporation in London for propagating the Gospel in New England and parts adjacent, had received Dr. Williams's legacy for maintaining two missionaries among the heathen; and at a time when they, having concluded on a mission to the Indians of the Six Nations, (so called,) were looking out for fit persons to be employed in that important service. This proved an occasion of their committing to him the affair of finding and recommending suitable persons: which has proved a successful means of two persons being found and actually appointed to that business; who seem to be well qualified for it, and to have their hearts greatly engaged in it; one of which has been solemnly ordained to that work in Boston, and is now gone forth to one of those tribes, who have appeared well disposed to receive him; it being judged not convenient for the other to go till the next spring, by reason of his bodily infirmity. [438] These happy consequences of Mr. Brainerd's journey to Boston would have been prevented, in case he had died when he was brought so near to death in New Jersey. Or if, after he came first to Northampton, (where he was much at a loss and long deliberating which way to bend his course,) he had determined not to go to Boston. The providence of God was observable in his going to Boston at a time when not only the honourable commissioners were seeking missionaries to the Six Nations, but also just after his Journal, which gives an account of his labours and success among the Indians, had been received and spread in Boston; whereby his name was known, and the minds of serious people were well prepared to receive his person, and the testimony he there gave for God; to exert themselves for the upholding and promoting the interest of religion in his congregation, and amongst the Indians elsewhere; and to regard his judgment concerning the qualifications of missionaries, &c. If he had gone there the fall before, (when he had intended to have made his journey into New England, but was prevented by a sudden great increase of his illness,) it would not probably have been, in any measure, to so good effect: and also if he had not been unexpectedly detained at Boston; for when he went from my house, he intended to make but a very short stay there; but Divine Providence, by his being brought so low there, detained him long; thereby to make way for the fulfilling its own gracious designs. The providence of God was remarkable in so ordering, that although he was brought so very near the grave in Boston, that it was not in the least expected he would ever come alive out of his chamber; yet he was wonderfully revived, and preserved several months longer: so that he had opportunity to see, and fully to converse with, both his younger brothers before he died; which he greatly desired; and especially to see his brother John, with whom was left the care of his congregation; that he might by him be fully informed of their state, and might leave with him such instructions and directions as were requisite in order to their spiritual welfare, and to send to them his dying charges and counsels. And he had also opportunity, by means of this suspension of his death, to find and recommend a couple of persons fit to be employed as missionaries to the Six Nations, as had been desired of him. Thus, although it was the pleasure of a sovereign God, that he should be taken away from his congregation, the people that he had begotten through the gospel, who were so dear to him; yet it was granted him, that before he died he should see them well provided for every way. He saw them provided for, with one to instruct them, and to take care of their souls; his own brother, whom he could confide in. He saw a good foundation laid for the support of the school among them; those things that before were wanting in order to it, being supplied. He had the prospect of a charitable society being established, of able and well-disposed persons, who seem to make the spiritual interest of his congregation their own; whereby he had a comfortable view of their being well provided for, for the future: and he had also opportunity to leave all his dying charges with his successor in the pastoral care of his people, and by him to send his dying counsels to them. Thus God granted him to see all things happily settled, or in a hopeful way of being so, before his death, with respect to his dear people. And whereas not only his own congregation, but the souls of the Indians in North America in general, were very dear to him, and he had greatly set his heart on the propagating and extending the kingdom of Christ among them; God was pleased to grant him though not to be the immediate instrument of their instruction and conversion, yet that before his death he should see unexpected extraordinary provision made for this also. And it is remarkable that God not only allowed him to see such provision made for maintaining the interest of religion among his own people and the propagation of it elsewhere; but honoured him by making him the means or occasion of it. So that it is very probable, however Mr. Brainerd during the last four months of his life, was ordinarily in an extremely weak and low state, very often scarcely able to speak; yet that he was made the instrument or means of much more good in that space of time, than he would have been if well and in full strength of body. Thus God's power was manifested in his weakness, and the life of Christ was manifested in his mortal flesh. Another thing wherein appears the merciful disposal of Providence with respect to his death, was that he did not die in the wilderness among the savages at Kaunaumeek, or the Forks of Delaware, or at Susquehannah; but in a place where his dying behaviour and speeches might be observed and remembered, and some account given of them for the benefit of survivors: and also where care might be taken of him in his sickness, and proper honours done him at his death. The providence of God is also worthy of remark in so overruling and ordering the matter, that he did not finally leave absolute orders for the entire suppressing of his private papers; as he had intended and fully resolved, insomuch that all the importunity of his friends could scarce restrain him from doing it when sick at Boston. And one thing relating to this is peculiarly remarkable, viz. that his brother a little before his death should come from the Jerseys unexpected, and bring his diary to him, though he had received no such order. So that he had opportunity of access to these his reserved papers, and for reviewing the same; without which, it appears, he would at last have ordered them to be wholly suppressed: but after this he the more readily yielded to the desires of his friends, and was willing to leave them in their hands to be disposed of as they thought might be most for God's glory. By which means, "he being dead, yet speaketh," in these memoirs of his life taken from those private writings: whereby it is to be hoped he may still be as it were the instrument of promoting the interest of religion in this world; the advancement of which he so much desired, and hoped would be accomplished after his death. If these circumstances of Mr. Brainerd's death be duly considered, I doubt not but they will be acknowledged as a notable instance of God's fatherly care, and covenant-faithfulness towards them that are devoted to him, and faithfully serve him while they live; whereby "he never fails nor forsakes them, but is with them living and dying: so that whether they live they live to the Lord; or whether they die, they die to the Lord;" and both in life and death they are owned and taken care of as his. Mr. Brainerd himself, as was before observed, was much in taking notice (when near his end) of the merciful circumstances of his death; and said from time to time, that "God had granted him all his desire." I would not conclude my observations on the merciful circumstances of Mr. Brainerd's death, without acknowledging with thankfulness, the gracious dispensation of Providence to me and my family, in so ordering that he (though the ordinary place of his abode was more than two hundred miles distant) should be brought to my house, in his last sickness, and should die here. So that we had opportunity for much acquaintance and conversation with him, to show him kindness in such circumstances, to see his dying behaviour, to hear his dying speeches, to receive his dying counsels, and to have the benefit of his dying prayers. May God in infinite mercy grant that we may ever retain a proper remembrance of these things, and make a due improvement of the advantages we have had in these respects! The Lord grant also that the foregoing account of Mr. Brainerd's life and death may be for the great spiritual benefit of all that shall read it, and prove a happy means of promoting the revival of true religion! Amen __________________________________________________________________ [438] The appointment of these gentlemen to this mission has been hitherto much smiled on by Providence; as in other respects, so particularly in wonderfully opening the hearts of many to contribute liberally to so excellent a design. Besides the benefactions in Boston, a number of persons at Northampton with much cheerfulness have given about 160l. (old tenor); and a particular person in Springfield has devoted a considerable part of his estate to this interest. __________________________________________________________________ __________________________________________________________________