The Works of the
Rev. John Wesley, M.A.

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An EXTRACT of  the

LIFE AND DEATH OF

THOMAS WALSH.

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PART III.

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CHAPTER IV.

Of his last sickness and death.

HIS state of body in general (as has been related) was that of a lingering death, which however, being interspersed with intervals of comparative health and strength, admitted of his still going on, in the work of his calling. But by his last sickness is meant, that degree of disease, which admitted of no such interval; and at last took him off entirely, from all mental or bodily labour, and ended in his removal hence.

This his last illness may be dated from February 24, 1758, a few days after his arrival at Bristol, in his way to Ireland. After preaching twice as usual, and studying hard all day, he was seized with violent pains in his head, and in all his bones. He however rose the next morning at his usual time, and preached; retiring afterwards to his daily exercises; but still feeling the pressure of the disorder, “My body says he, trembled with weakness, but my soul was happy in God!”

He avoided yielding to his pains, and proceeded in his Lord’s work as usual, for several days: till at length he was constrained to take his bed. Here he was confined for several days; and taking exact notice, (as his disorder admitted) of the state of his heart, according to his constant custom, and growing something better, he wrote from the fulness of his heart his state and sentiments as follows,

“Saturday March 4. (The day he took his bed) good is thy will O Lord. Thy counsels of old are faithfulness and truth. Thou reignest in righteousness; though no man can know love or hatred, by all that is before him, Ecclesiastes ix. Thou givest account of thy ways to none; but assurest the righteous, that it shall be well with him; and that thy corrections are with this design, that we may partake of thy holiness. I am in thy hands, O my God: work thy perfect will in me, and sustain me in this trial. I call upon thee in the day of trouble; and believe thou wilt deliver me, and that I shall glorify thee, and praise thee yet more and more. Thus (as he concludes) I went to bed very ill, and happy.

“Sunday 5. My illness continued and encreased. I had not much consolation, but was graciously preserved from buffetings. Monday 6. Continued in soul as yesterday only with more examination. Tuesday 7. I had scarcely any alteration in body or soul. I cried to God, and he heard me; but the sweet and usual returns of prayer were not. Wednesday 8. God gave me to weep much for the sins of my whole life. Thursday 9. My pains and pleasures, corporal and spiritual, were as the day before. Friday 10. I had more consolation of soul. Saturday 11. The spirit of prayer was plentifully imparted to me: I could plead the mercies, and promises, and merits of God my Saviour, and his love and joy were more plentifully poured into my soul. Sunday 12. I had gracious intimations of the good will of God towards me in this sickness.

“Monday 13. I was able to read and pray, and advise friends to love God and seek him in good earnest, while they had strength. Tuesday 14. I was better still, and prayed for the increase of holy love in the children of God, and for the propagation of the faith in all nations.”

Besides this daily minuting down the state of his soul, he on a general review (as was his constant manner on these occasions) of the whole, has, among several other particulars, the following observations,

*“I had a constant witness from the Holy Ghost, that I was a child of God. However, the sins of my whole life were brought to my remembrance; particularly those of my heart; the manifold backslidings known only to God. For altho’ God preserved me from falling even once, into those sins, in which I lived in the days of my ignorance; nevertheless I saw my pride, desire, self-will, self-indulgence, levity, and misspending time.¹ I may add to these, my want of love to God, charity to my neighbour, and more serious concern for my own soul. I saw how wonderfully the Lord had dealt with me, raising me from the dust, and giving me so many and invaluable blessings; so that I ought, more than all men, to serve and love him.”

“I was moreover deeply convinced how possible, yea easy it is, for a person after having received great light, love, power, and joy, to fall notwithstanding, into a certain dulness of soul; and that holy desires, vehement thirstings after God, and the spirit of prayer, may be lessened, and lost. Truly we can keep nothing unless the Holy Ghost help our infirmities continually.

*“But the grand lesson of all which in this little interval I learned was, the absolute necessity of being free from persons, things, and places. I saw what a tendency the soul has to rest in something beside God; I saw that even when we give up our beloved sins, and all temporal things, we are nevertheless apt to rest in the gifts and graces of God; making them as it were our Saviour, and comforter instead of Christ.”

*“I saw farther, how deeply the love of life and learning had been rooted in my heart: and that God saw it necessary to correct me often, to shew me the vanity of both.”

*“I believe he is resolved to save my soul to the uttermost; and he uses various ways to accomplish this end. I believe this sickness will be of great service to my soul, and perhaps of more use to the children of God, than my labours could be. My desire is only to live wholly to him, and to get more of the love and life of Christ. Lord look upon me, a weak and unconstant man, and strengthen, and establish my heart with thy love.

“In exhorting the believers, I found much of divine consolation. O how sweet were these two hours; and how short! Love is a wonderful thing.”

Sunday 26. I was in a high fever, yet when I got with the family, I forgot my pain, while we conversed of the love of God. It being Easter-day, I examined what I had gained since last Easter? And I trust God has given me more humility, patience, and likeness to himself.”

He was detained at Bristol, thro’ his illness, longer than he had intended; and was but slightly recovered, when he was told of a ship, just ready to sail for Cork. Being resolved on the journey, and willing to embrace the very first opportunity, weak as he was, he embarked at Pill on the 13th of April. The passage was ♦extremely dangerous; insomuch, that the mariners themselves, looked for nothing less than perishing, so boisterous were the winds and the seas. But see the blessedness of being true believers in Christ! *Tho’ they expected every moment to go to the bottom of the great deep; “Yet God, says he, gave me more faith, and patience, and joy, than ever I felt before. I could not see death terrible to me. I prayed, and praised God incessantly; for sleep I could not an hour while on board; and neither could I eat. But Christ was with me in all, and supported me. I pleaded with the Lord in behalf of the passengers, beseeching him that he would not take them away in their sins. They cried out vehemently, ‘We are not fit to die!’ On their account I did not desire to sleep; I cried aloud to God in prayer in the cabbin; and they gladly attended then. On Saturday the wind abated, and the next day we landed safe in Cork.”

*On my hearing of his arrival (being then in the county, and it being many months, since we parted at London) I hastened to see him; and can never forget the idea, which the first sight of him gave me, of a man in deep fellowship with God. On my opening his room door, and just appearing, he got up from his chair, being in deep contemplation, and with a spirit and countenance, composed and solemn as the grave, he said with a low voice, ‘God bless you.’ We embraced each other with tears; after which kneeling down, he prayed, as to a present God indeed! with such melting and moving expressions, and with such reverential confidence, as surpassed all that I had known and admired in him before; and plainly discovered his having entered since we parted, much further into the holiest, by the blood of Jesus.

*During the time he stayed here, I was a daily witness of his manner of life; and saw with much concern, his swift approaching end. He had most of the symptoms of a consumption, in its last stage: which increased upon him every day. The silver cords of life began to loosen, and the golden bowl, the whole of this wonderful, and curiously wrought machine, to be broken. He had an intermitting fever, which returned regularly every day about eleven o’clock; an habitual cough, and most profuse night-sweats; all which had now so emaciated and weakened him, that the marks of death already appeared upon him. And yet notwithstanding this, he still so desired to discourse of the things of eternity, that, while he was at all able to stand, or speak, he could not be dissuaded from preaching: and altho’ he brought into the pulpit the very image of death upon his face, so that it could hardly be expected he should speak ten minutes; he has nevertheless preached a full hour, to the astonishment of all who heard him. One would have thought he must have dropt down dead immediately after.

His internal state, still the object of his close attention, during his continuance at Cork, where there is reason to believe he began first, to think, this sickness would be unto death, he summarily expresses thus.

*“Saturday April 29. My soul truly waiteth upon God. My body feels pain and weakness; but my soul enjoys the living fire of the Holy Ghost! Oh, may I die the death of the righteous: and let my last end be like his! I wait for thy salvation, O Lord! Weak I am, but cannot be moved while Jesus is my strength. O that every pain may but increase my love to God! I am supported by the fire within, and by believing that Jesus is at the right-hand of God.”

The time being come which he had appointed for leaving Cork, and going on to Limerick; being attended by his own brother: another friend and I, accompanied him a dozen miles on the way. At the inn where we stopped, he discoursed to us at dinner, of the things pertaining to the life of a Christian, respecting particular instances of conduct; but his weakness prevented him saying as much as we could have desired. *I shall never forget our parting! The other persons being gone down stairs, after he had said some particular things to me, we kneeled down, and prayed together, for the last time! We then took our final farewell of each other in this world! He went on his way, and I went mine; each of us expecting to meet no more, till we met in happier climes, and in a better world!

*I do not find, that from this time, he kept any further account in writing, of the daily state of his soul; owing, I am inclined to think, to the violence of his disorder, which increased now, almost every hour; and which weakened and impaired the faculties of his mind, as well as the strength of his body. Hence, beholding things thro’ so defective a medium, he became in reality, an unfit judge of his own state. The influence which this kind of disorder in particular, frequently has upon the powers of the mind, is well known, even to the representing things which concern one’s self, and others, often directly contrary to what they really are.

He had the judgment and advice of the best physicians, wherever he came; who on the slightest intimation, offered their assistance with all chearfulness, neither expecting nor desiring any other gratuity than, (as one of them once expressed) “the prayers of Mr. Walsh.” They generally agreed, that his disorder was brought on thro’ excessive labour—frequent, and loud preaching, intense application to study, want of proper, and sufficient rest: and fatigue in general. They likewise judged, that his case was now past all remedy.

*It was however judged advisable, that he should be removed from Limerick, to the more free and open air of the country. He went thither accordingly, where he had the tenderest and most affectionate attendance, with whatsoever was judged most proper to alleviate the rigour of the disease, and restore him, if God should so please, to health. But it was now too late! And his friends perceiving, that neither air nor physic availed any thing, they according to his own inclination and desire, removed him to Dublin. His next remove, was to the city of the great King, the paradise of God!

Concerning the state of his soul, for a few months before his death, as he wrote nothing on the head during that time, we can speak with less certainty, than of what has been already related. And embarking for England soon after we parted, I neither saw nor heard, any thing particularly concerning him, till a letter brought the tidings of his being no more in this world. But from the accounts of persons of undoubted veracity, who attended him during that time, we learn, that his state was not indeed joyous, but grievous. *He drank of his Lord’s cup of sorrow, and was in truth deeply, baptized with his baptism. He was immerged in affliction’s furnace and plunged in the deepest waters.

He was tempted, and sorely buffeted of the devil. The nature of his disorder exposed him to a degree of precipitancy, and discomposure, which he was more than superior to, while in better health. In short, so did the wisdom of God permit, that thro’ the malice of Satan, the extreme violence of his disorder, and the concurrence of several other circumstances, this servant of God, was brought to the utmost extremity of spiritual distress and anguish, consistent with keeping the faith: insomuch that it was but few degrees removed from despair.

*His great soul lay thus, as it were in ruins, for some considerable time; and poured out many a heavy groan, and speechless tear, from an oppressive heart, and dying body. He sadly bewailed the absence of him, whose wonted presence had so often given him the victory, over the manifold contradictions and troubles, which he endured for his name-sake. A heart so sensible of the visits of its Lord, and so restless at his smallest absence, as his was throughout his warfare, must needs be deeply afflicted when left, seemingly to its own poverty, and surrounded as it were with hosts of infernal fiends, seeking to devour him. The intervals which he had of cessation from the extremity of the conflict, and of comparatively quiet confidence in God, are not perhaps so well known: but that he had such, may well be supposed; for otherwise his soul and flesh must needs have failed before God.

It was however not till a short time before his complete and eternal deliverance, that his Lord appeared to his help: and by making himself known, as Jesus, his well known Saviour, entirely eased the anguish of his oppressed soul! The beams of his brightness dispersed the clouds: and the smiles of his countenance more than compensated for all his night of sorrow. He spoke and said unto him, The winter is passed; arise my love and come away!

*The manner of his deliverance was as follows. A few friends being at prayer with him, on Sunday evening; as soon as they concluded, he desired to be left alone, in order, as he said, “to meditate a little.” They withdrew; and he remained deeply recollected for some time: just then, God, dropping into his soul, no doubt, some lively foretaste of the joys to come, and spreading the day of eternity thro’ the regions of his inward man; he burst out in transport, and pronounced, in a dying voice indeed, but with the joy of angels!――“He is come!――He is come!――My beloved is mine, and I am his!――His for ever!” And uttering these words, he sweetly breathed out his soul into the arms of his beloved; on the 8th day of April 1759, and in the 28th year of his age.

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The CONCLUSION.

WE cannot sufficiently admire and adore, the unsearchable counsels, and impenetrable secrets of God our Saviour, with respect to the management of his kingdom, and the disposal of his servants. Two reflections are natural, on considering the preceding account in general.

*1. To see a man delivered from the blindness of error and superstition, and brought into the light and enjoyment of truth; the knowledge of the true God and of his spiritual worship—to see him brought out from the obscurity of retirement, and that by the remarkable interposition of divine providence, in order to spread the savour of the knowledge of God, among mankind, in the most public manner—to consider him as singularly fitted for this, by knowledge, by the word of truth, dwelling richly in him; by purity, by zeal for God’s glory, by the armour of righteousness, and by the power of God, attending his word—To see such an one cut off from among men, in the prime of life, just fully furnished for promoting the kingdom of the Son of God, to which he was entirely devoted, is a thing which will be acknowledged to confound human understanding.

Without entring deeply into the matter, one may easily learn herefrom, at least a confirmation of that weighty truth, that God is not worshipped, or served by mens hands, as tho’ he needed any person or thing. He leaves no one any room to say or think within themselves, that the cause and glory of God needed them, or at least had some connexion with our standing or being removed. He is at no time at a loss how to serve his own glory, and the necessities of his creatures. Hereby moreover he would stain the pride of human glory; and teach us, what can never be too fully learned, to walk humbly with our God; not to judge according to appearances; and to learn to conceive of things and persons, not according to bare human estimation, but according to the will of God. O that we may learn from every occurrence, to fly to him, in all our affections and desires! Then whenever our change comes, we shall be welcomed by superior beings, and not much missed by men, who delight in novelties.

Whatever secret reasons might be the cause of such a procedure, in the divine disposals; whether ingratitude, or something bordering upon idolatry in the people, or whatever was the cause, certain it is, that we need never fail to reap instruction and advantage, from such awful providences; the decease of our dearest friends, since

“For us they languish, and for us they die!”

2. But what may seem most strange is, that a person so eminent for piety, so laborious for God’s glory; so exemplarily religious, in the whole of his conversation; so useful to others: in a word, so entirely, and unreservedly devoted to Christ, should in the time of his greatest necessity, be so destitute of spiritual comfort. And it must be acknowledged, in great measure, to be a part of those ways, of which God giveth account to none. His ♦judgments are unsearchable, and his ways past finding out. His way is in the sea, and his paths in the great waters; and his footsteps are not known. And who shall say to God, “What dost thou?” “What I do thou knowest not now,” is indeed applicable to the general course of God’s providences; and to much of the experience of Christians in particular; and perhaps this is the best footing on which to rest the present case, namely the mysterious councils of God, with respect to his dealings with his servants: with him we are considering in particular.

Who can account for that providence which left the life of so holy a person as John the Baptist, in such infamous hands! Which permitted it to be sacrificed to the malice of an abandoned harlot, the petulancy of a vain girl, and the rashness of a foolish, perhaps drunken prince, who made a prophet’s head the reward of a dance? The same reasoning has weight, with respect to the treatment which he has permitted his most eminent servants in all ages to meet with. It is the fixed decree of heaven, concerning the righteous, that through much tribulation (outward or inward, or both) they must enter the kingdom of God. And the most part of ecclesiastical story, is in great measure no other than a comment on this great truth; which likewise receives abundant confirmation from numberless parts of holy scripture.

There may be, for ought that can be known by us, a certain resemblance in some particulars, between his case of whom we speak, and that of Job (see chapter ii. 3‒6.) But in both, and indeed in all resembling instances, the hand of the Lord is visibly seen; that he is pitiful, and of tender mercy, and afflicts his children only for their profit, that they might partake of his holiness. And we are well assured, that he will repay his servants in another world, for whatever they suffer in this: even ♦such as fill up that which is behind of the afflictions of Christ in their flesh.

As to the difficulty of reconciling with his former enjoyments, and professions, such a state of conflict and discomfort, as this his last stage was accompanied with, it may be considered, that although it was uncommon, yet the case is not singular: to recite examples would be endless. It is true, that God has given us multiply’d and various instances, in the last stages of his servants in most ages, both of triumphant superiority to sickness, pain and death in some: of holy mourning, deep abasement, and patient resignation, in others: and there have been those likewise, whose last ♦sicknesses have been such times of painful purgation from human foibles, and sore conflict from diabolical temptations, that the utmost they have been able to do, has been to abide in the furnace; till patience having had its perfect work, they just stept from the cross—to the crown! Witnessing, only with their parting breath, Victory! Victory! And all this it is impossible to account for, by appearances.

Thus we hear one, in his last sickness saying, “I am by the wonderful mercy of God, as full of comfort as my heart can hold, I feel nothing in my soul but Christ, with whom I heartily desire to be.” Another, “I am like a bird upon the wing, and would fain be at Immanuel’s land, where the tree of life is. Here I am a weak man, in the hands of the king of terrors, rejoicing in hope of the glory that shall be revealed; and that by the death and resurrection of a despised Christ. All these soft clothes are like sack cloth, and yet I have perfect rest of spirit.” Another, “O how does the love of God wipe off all pain! The servants of God suffer nothing. Their trials are but for a moment; their joys are eternal!” Ten thousand instances of this sort might be alledged, in the present generation (to look no farther)――Persons who throughout a course of pains and wants, evidenced the ♦glorious conquest which faith gives over all our enemies, and over death, the last of all.

There have been those on the other hand, who after a course of useful and holy living; of eminency in wisdom, and in favour with God, have nevertheless, towards the setting of their sun, wanted those joyous beams of triumphant light and life; and who approached their seat of repose with many tears and sighs; with shame, and confusion, and hopes, and dependence; and even at the last, left nothing particularly memorable, for the discourse, and joy of the survivors;¹ but who notwithstanding, have attained their wished-for port, and enjoy the pleasures of those peaceful mansions! John xiv. 2.

“Where conflicts past, redouble present joys!”

Diversity of complexions, different periods of grace, or divine dispensations; with a thousand particulars known best to God, may be taken into consideration, in attempting to account for this difference in the divine disposals concerning his servants. But I forbear attempting to solve, that of which I am free to profess my ignorance: and wait for that light, which will infallibly

—―throw full day on darkest scenes of time.

It may be farther observed concerning this servant of God, that although his comforts had been exceeding great throughout most part of his experience, yet he had frequent and violent encounters with the enemy: so that sometimes we find in the same paragraph, acknowledgments of the great joy and peace which he felt, and complainings of grievous temptations and trials. Take an instance or two among a thousand, in his own words.

“I found in retirement sore struggles and deep consolation.” And again, although love and joy lived and flowed in me, yet I wept and made supplication, being strongly tempted of the devil. Ah, Lord! Thou knowest my state, and trials! And my groanings are not hid from thee! What conflicts with myself do I daily feel!

Some are tempted most in the beginning of their conversion, some towards the latter end, and others there are, who are sorely tempted throughout their whole life. The latter was his case. But now especially, his natural faculties weakning in proportion to the decay of his bodily strength, rendered him the fitter mark for Satan, to attack with his last and most violent assaults, which therefore he plyed to purpose. He could not however make him let go his integrity: nor did he alter his sentiments, concerning any point of Christian doctrine, or retract any thing he had formerly said relating thereto. And as to the course of his most secret walking, altho’ on the whole, he saw nothing whereof to glory in himself before God; but rather was continually filled with holy shame and deep abasements, at the disparity which he still perceived between himself and his holy Lord; yet there was no particular sin since his conversion, with the cherishing of which he could charge himself. To which may be added, that in the midst of this hour and power of darkness, he never once charged God foolishly; but on the contrary he sought to him with groans, and tears, and cries, without ceasing!

His sufferings both of body and mind were great beyond description: but when we consider, thus did God permit concerning him, it puts to silence every doubtful, evil reasoning on the head. By constituting him a perfect sufferer, God thereby, made him the more conformable to his suffering, conquering Son; that Man of sorrows and acquainted with griefs! And rendered his condition not that of a bastard, or base-born child, abandoned of God, and rejected; but on the contrary, that of a beloved Son scourged and purified by his heavenly Father, that he might thereby, more eminently partake of his holiness and glory. And should heaven permit his conveying to us his present sentiments, concerning his momentary afflictions, we should certainly hear him pronounce to this effect.

He had hope in his end, and therefore ceased not to cry to Jesus, who was with him in reality all the while, in the furnace; and finally appeared his friend and his beloved!

On the whole, I profess, that although on my first hearing of the afflictive scene through which he passed, I was more astonished than at any thing I ever remember to have happened to myself or others; remaining in dumb suspense, at what could be the cause of so unexpected a procedure? Nevertheless, I am now inclined to consider the whole affair as an argument, rather of his strength than the contrary. His supporting at all under such extreme sufferings, not a little demonstrates his great soul, and nearness of conformity to God his Saviour,

If thou faintest, saith Solomon in the day of adversity, thy strength is but small: and by parity of reason, to stand in a time of sore trial argues proportionable strength. Avert, my God, avert from my soul, ill able to bear it, such a time of trial! O Jesus, by all thou hast done and suffered; by thine agony, and bloody sweat, by thy cross and bitter passion, by thy meritorious death; thy resting in the chambers of the grave, thy triumphant resurrection, and ascension; and by thy coming again in glory; in the time of sickness, in death, and in judgment, deliver my soul, I beseech thee!

The thoughts of being quickly loosed from the fetters of the body, had often filled his soul with the most sensible delights, desiring nothing so much as to see God: and the approaches of eternity did often so enflame his desires, that he was sometimes in a degree of transport. But after all that can be said on the head of this his last scene, and indeed of the methods of God’s providential dispensations in general, concerning nations or individual persons, it seems the wisest and best method to rest in that sentiment, namely not curiously to scan them; but rather to adore in humble silence, his unsearchable judgments and impenetrable secrets!

Whatever is permitted to befal them in this world, we are well assured it shall be well with the righteous. All things, whether prosperous or adverse, shall work together for their good. He that liveth forever saith, I come quickly――to put a final period to the whole of mortal things, and determine the states of all the children of Adam for ever! His reward is with him! We shall see him as he is! Though now we see him not, yet believing we rejoice! O Jesus, work in our hearts that conformity to and resemblance of thyself, that we may seek nothing, but night and day think of, long for, and joyfully wait for thine appearance!

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An EXTRACT of  the LIFE

OF THE LATE

Rev. Mr. David Brainerd,

Missionary to  the  Indians.

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ADVERTISEMENT.

THOSE parts of the following history that are included between brackets thus [ ], are the words of the publisher, Mr. Jonathan Edwards, minister of Northampton in New-England, for the most part summarily representing the chief things contained in Mr. Brainerd’s diary: the rest is the account that he gives of himself in his private writings, in his own words.

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PART I.

From his birth to the time when he began to devote himself to the study of divinity.

[MR. David Brainerd was born April 20, 1718, at Haddam, a town belonging to the county of Hartford, in the colony of Connecticut, New-England. His father, who died when he was about nine years of age, was the worshipful Hezekiah Brainerd, Esq. one of his Majesty’s council for that colony, and the son of Daniel Brainerd, Esq. a justice of the peace, and a deacon of the church in Haddam. His mother was Mrs. Dorothy Hobart, daughter to the Rev. Mr. Jeremiah Hobart, who preached awhile at Topsfield, and then removed to Hempstead, on Long-Island, and afterwards came and settled in the work of the ♦ministry at Haddam; where he died in the 85th year of his age; of whom it is remarkable, that he went to the public worship in the forenoon, and died in his chair between meetings.

Mr. David Brainerd was the third son of his parents. They had five sons and four daughters. The 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 Rev. Nehemiah Brainerd, a worthy minister at Eastbury in Connecticut, who died of a consumption November 10, 1742; the 4th 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 5th was Israel, late student at Yale-college in New-Haven, who died since his brother David.—Mrs. Dorothy Brainerd having lived several years a widow, died when her son David was about 14 years of age: so that in his youth he was left both fatherless and motherless. What account he has given of himself follows.]

I WAS from my youth something sober and inclined to melancholy, but do not remember any conviction of sin, till I was seven or eight years of age; when I grew terrified at the thoughts of death, but this concern was short lived. However, I sometimes attended secret prayer; and thus lived at ease till I was above thirteen years of age. But in the winter 1732, I was something roused by the prevailing of a mortal sickness in Haddam. I was frequent, constant, and something fervent in duties, and took delight in reading, especially Mr. Janeway’s Token for Children; I was sometimes much melted in duties, and took great delight in the performance of them. 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! I may indeed say, “Almost I was persuaded to be a Christian.” I was also exceedingly distressed at the death of my mother, in March, 1732. But afterwards I by degrees fell back into security, though I still attended to secret prayer.

About the 15th of April 1733, I removed to East-Haddam, where I spent four years. Here I went a round of secret duty. I was not much addicted to young company: but when I did go into it, it always added new guilt to me, and made me afraid to come to the throne of grace.

About the latter end of April 1737, being full nineteen, I removed to Durham, and began to work on my farm, and so continued till I was twenty years old; tho’ frequently longing after a liberal education. When I was about twenty, I applied myself to study, and was engaged more than ever in the duties of religion. I became very watchful over my thoughts, words and actions, because I designed to devote myself to the ministry.

Some time in April 1738, I went to Mr. Fiske’s, and lived with him during his life¹. He advised me wholly to abandon young company, and associate myself with grave elderly people: which counsel I followed; and my manner of life was now exceeding regular. I read my bible more than twice through in less than a year. I spent much time every day in secret-duties; I gave great attention to the word preached, and endeavoured to retain it. I agreed with some young persons to meet on sabbath-evenings for religious exercises; and after our meeting was ended, I used to repeat the discourses of the day to myself, though sometimes it was late in the night. On Monday mornings I used to recollect the same sermons. And I had sometimes considerable movings of affections in duties, and much pleasure therein.

After Mr. Fiske’s death, I proceeded in my learning with my brother, and was still very constant in religious duties. Thus I proceeded on a self-righteous foundation;¹ and should still had not the mere mercy of God prevented.

In the beginning of winter, 1738, it pleased God one sabbath-day morning, as I was walking out for secret duties, to give me on a sudden, such a sense of my danger, and the wrath of God, that I stood amazed, and was much distressed all that day, fearing the vengeance of God would soon overtake me. I kept much alone, and sometimes grudged the birds and beasts their happiness, because they were not exposed to eternal misery, as I saw I was. And thus I lived from day to day, in great distress: sometimes there appeared mountains before me to obstruct my hopes of mercy; I used, however to pray and cry to God, and perform other duties with great earnestness.

In February, 1738‒9, I set apart a day for secret fasting and prayer, and spent the day in almost incessant cries to God, 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, and to shew me my helplessness. I constantly strove after whatever qualifications I imagined others obtained before the reception of Christ. Sometimes I felt the power of an 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; and hence, when my distress still remained, I was wont to murmur at God’s dealings with me.

*Sometimes I grew remiss without any great convictions for a considerable time together; but after such a season, convictions seized me more violently. One night in particular, when I was walking solitarily abroad, I had such a view of my sin, that I feared the ground would cleave asunder, and send my soul quick into hell. And though I was forced to go to bed, lest my distress should be discovered by others; yet I scarce durst sleep at all, for I thought it would be a great wonder, if I should be out of hell in the morning. But though my distress was thus great, yet I dreaded the loss of convictions, and returning back to my former insensibility; which made me exceeding exact in my behaviour, lest I should stifle the motions of God’s spirit.

The many distresses I met with, put me into a most horrible contesting with the Almighty: with an inward vehemence, 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. I wished sometimes there was no God, or that there were some other God that could controul him. These thoughts frequently passed before I was aware; but, when I considered this, it distressed me, to think, that my heart was so full of enmity against God; and it made me tremble, lest God’s vengeance should suddenly fall upon me. I used before, to imagine my heart was not so bad, as the scriptures represented. Sometimes I used to take much pains to bring it into an humble submissive disposition; 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 it would break over all bounds, and burst forth on all sides, like floods of waters when they break down their damm.

While I was in this distressed state, the corruption of my heart was especially irritated by these things following,

1. The strictness of the divine law. For I found it was impossible for me (after my utmost pains) to answer the demands of it. I often made resolutions, and as often broke them. I imputed the whole to want of being more watchful, and used to call myself a fool for my negligence. But when, upon a stronger resolution, and greater endeavours, 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, I could bear with it; but I found it condemned me for the sins of my heart, which I could not possibly prevent. I was extremely loath to give out, and own my utter helplessness; 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; I hoped, that I should strive more earnestly than ever: and this hope of future more favourable circumstances, and of doing something hereafter, kept me from utter despair of myself, and from seeing myself fallen into the hands of God, and dependent on nothing but boundless grace.

*2. Another thing was, that faith alone was the condition of salvation; and that God would not come down to lower terms; that he would not promise life and salvation upon my sincere 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 gift of God; that I could not get it of myself, and could not oblige God to bestow it upon me, by any of my performances. “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 a mere nothing, who had been very conscientious in duty, and had been exceeding religious a great while, and had (as I thought) done much more than many others that 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, 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 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 how to come to Christ. I read the calls of Christ, made 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 directed to what was never so difficult. Mr. Stoddard’s Guide to Christ did not tell me any thing I could do, that would bring me to Christ, but left me as it were with a great gulph between me and Christ, without any direction to get through. For I was not yet 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.

*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, that it was as if it had been declared to me in so many words, “It is done, it is for ever impossible to deliver yourself.” For about three or four days, my soul was thus distressed, especially at some turns, when 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. I dared not see that important truth, that I was dead in trespasses and sins. But when I had thrust away these views of myself at any time, I was distressed to have the same discoveries 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 powerful with regard to the present time, that it was the best time, and probably the only time, that I dared not to put it off. Yet my soul shrank away from it; I could see no safety in throwing myself into the hands of God, and that I could lay no claim to any thing better than damnation.

*But after a considerable time spent in such distresses, one morning, while I was walking in a solitary place, as usual, I at once saw that all my contrivances to procure salvation for myself, were utterly in vain: I was brought quite to a stand as finding myself totally lost. I had thought many times, that the difficulties were very great; but now I saw, that it was for ever impossible for me to do any thing towards delivering myself. I then blamed myself, that I had not done more, 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. I had the greatest certainty that my state was forever miserable, for all that I could do: and was astonished 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. Now I saw, there was no necessary connection between my prayers and the divine mercy: that they laid not the least obligation upon God to bestow his grace upon me; and that there was no more goodness in them, than there would be in my paddling with my hand in the water; and this because they were not performed from any love to God. I saw that I had heaped up my devotions before God, fasting, praying, &c. really thinking I was aiming at the glory of God; whereas I never once truly intended it.¹

I continued 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, and attempting to pray, but found no heart to engage in that or any other duty. Having been thus endeavouring to pray for near half an hour, (and by this time the sun was about half an hour high) as I was walking in a dark thick grove, unspeakable glory opened to the view of my soul: I do not mean any external brightness, but a new inward apprehension or view that I had of God, such as I never had before. I stood still and admired! I had never 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 that I then beheld; and 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, so that at first, I scarce reflected there was such a creature as myself.

Thus God, brought me to a hearty disposition to exalt him, and to aim at his glory, as King of the universe.

I continued in this state till near dark, without any sensible abatement; and then began to think what I had seen; and was sweetly composed 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 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 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. I wondered, that the whole world did not see and comply with this way of salvation, entirely by the merits of Christ.

The sweet relish of what I then felt, continued with me for several days, in a greater or less degree; I could not but sweetly rejoice in God, lying down or rising up. The next Lord’s day I felt something of the same kind, though not so powerful. But not long after, was again under great distress; yet not of the same kind with my distress under convictions. I was afraid and ashamed to come before God; was exceedingly pressed with a sense of guilt: but it was not long before I felt true repentance and joy in God.

In the beginning of September I went to college¹, and entered there; but with some degree of reluctance, fearing lest I should not be able to lead a life of strict religion, in the midst of so many temptations.――After this, before, I went to tarry at college, it pleased God to visit my soul with clearer manifestations of himself in prayer and self-examination; and the Lord so shined into my heart, that I enjoyed full assurance of his favour; and my soul was unspeakably refreshed. 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 January 1739‒40, the measles spread much in college; and I having taken the distemper, went home to Haddam. For some days before I was taken sick, my soul mourned the absence of the Comforter: it seemed to me, all comfort was gone; I cried to God, yet found no relief. But a night or two before I was taken ill, while I was walking alone, engaged in meditation and prayer, I enjoyed a sweet, refreshing visit from above, so that my soul was raised far above the fears of death; O how much more refreshing this one season was than all the pleasures earth can afford! After a day or two I was taken with the measles, and almost despaired of life; but had no distressing fears of death. However, I soon recovered: yet by reason of hard studies, I had 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 advantage for retirement and enjoyed more comfort: indeed my ambition in my studies greatly wronged the vigour of my spiritual life: yet “in the multitude of my thoughts within me, God’s comforts delighted my soul.”

One day in particular, (June 1740) I walked in the fields alone, and found such unspeakable sweetness 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.

In August following, I became so disordered, by too close application to my studies, that I was advised to go home, and disengage my mind from study, for I began to spit blood. I took advice, but being brought very low, I looked death in the face more stedfastly. The Lord was pleased to give me a sweet relish of divine things, and my soul took delight in the blessed God.

*Saturday, October 18. In my morning devotions, my soul was exceedingly melted for, and bitterly mourned over, my exceeding sinfulness and vileness. I never before felt so deep a sense of the odious nature of sin. My soul was unusually carried forth in love to God, and had a lively sense of God’s love to me. And this love and hope, cast out fear.

*October 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. This love and joy cast out fear; and my soul longed for perfect grace and glory.

*Tuesday, October 21. I had likewise experience of the goodness of God in “shedding abroad his love in my heart,” and all the remaining part of the week, my soul was 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 me the year past, I could not but be grieved, and I thought I had much rather have died; but before I went, I enjoyed several other sweet and precious seasons of communion with God.

I returned to college about November 6, and through the goodness of God, felt the power of religion almost daily.

November 28. I enjoyed precious discoveries of God, and was unspeakably refreshed with that passage, Hebrews xii. 22, 23, 24, so that my soul longed to wing away for the paradise of God; I longed to be conformed to God in all things.

Tuesday, December 9. 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 of this lower world.

Towards the latter end of January, 1740‒41, I grew more cold and dull in matters of religion, by means of my old temptation, 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. This awakening was for a time very great and general at New-Haven; and the college had no small share in it: the students in general became serious, many of them remarkably so, and much engaged in the concerns of their eternal salvation.

It could not be otherwise than that one whose heart had been so drawn to God, should be mightily animated, at the sight of such an alteration in the college, the town, and land; of mens reforming their lives, and turning from profaneness and immorality, to seriousness and concern for their salvation, and of religion’s reviving and flourishing almost every where. But as an intemperate zeal, soon mingled itself with that revival of religion: so Mr. Brainerd had the unhappiness to have a tincture of it. One instance of which it is necessary should be related.

In the time of the awakening at college, several students associated themselves, who were wont freely to open themselves one to another: Mr. Brainerd was one of this company. And it once happened, that he and two or three more of these his 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 Mr. Brainerd and these his companions. Mr. Whittelsey having been unusually pathetical in his prayer, one of Brainerd’s friends asked him what he thought of Mr. Whittelsey; he made answer, “He has no more grace than this chair.” One happening at that time to be near the hall over-heard those words, though he knew not who the person was, which was thus censured. He informed a woman who went and informed the rector. He sent for the man and examined him; and he told the rector the words that 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, of what they looked upon as private conversation, yet the rector compelled them to declare what he said, and of whom he said it.—Brainerd thought, that what he said in private, was injuriously extorted from his friends, and that it was injuriously required of him to make a public confession, before the whole college, 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, was expelled the college.

His expulsion was in the winter anno 1741‒2, while he was in his third year in college.]

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PART II.

From the time that he began to devote himself to the study of divinity, till he was examined and licensed to preach.

[MR. Brainerd, the spring after his expulsion, went to live with the Rev. Mr. Mills, of Ripton, to follow his studies with him, in order to his being fitted for the ministry; where he spent the greater part of the time till licensed to preach.]—The following account is in his own words.

Thursday, April 1, 1742. I seem to be declining with respect to my life and warmth in divine things; O that God would humble me deeply in the dust! I deserve hell every day, for not loving my Lord more, “who has loved me, and given himself for me;” and every time I am enabled to exercise any grace, I am indebted to the God of all grace for it. “Where then is boasting?” Surely “it is excluded,” since we depend on God for the being and every act of grace.

*Friday, April 2. I felt myself much resigned, calm, and serene. What are all the storms of this lower world, if Jesus does but come ♦walking on the seas!—Some time past, I had much pleasure in the prospect of the Heathen’s 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 love, and my longing after God increased!

Saturday, April 3. I thought, if God would take me to himself, my soul would exceedingly rejoice. O that I may be always humble and resigned to God, and that God would fix my soul on himself, that I may be more fitted both for doing and suffering!

*Lord’s-day, April 4. O my blessed God! Let me climb up near to him, and love, and long, and plead, and wrestle, and reach, 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.”

*Tuesday, April 6. I cried to God to wash my soul, and cleanse me from my exceeding filthiness.—And I could think of undergoing the greatest sufferings, 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 my dear Christian friends.—I felt myself weaned from the world, and from my own reputation, willing to be despised, and to be a gazing-stock for the world.—It is impossible for me to express what I then felt: I had not much joy, but a sense of the majesty of God, which made me 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.

Thursday, April 8. I had hopes respecting the Heathen. O that God would bring in numbers of them to 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 myself.

Saturday, April 10. I spent much time in secret this morning, and not without some comfort; but am so low, and feel so little of the 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, and am all sin. Yet I feel some faint hopes, that God will, of his infinite mercy, return.

Lord’s-day, April 11. I had 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 a sweet and delightful employment.—In the evening, as I was viewing the lights 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. I felt myself exceeding calm, and quite resigned to God, respecting my future employment: 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 men 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 exercise me with, if I might be prepared for his work and will. I now found sweetly 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 the wisdom of God.

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 centered in God, and I found a sensible attraction of soul after him: I long for God, and a conformity to his will, in inward holiness, ten thousand times more than for any thing here below.

Lord’s-day, April 18. I retired early this morning in the woods; and was enabled to plead with fervency for the advancement of Christ’s kingdom.—At night I saw myself infinitely indebted to God, and had a view of my short comings: it seemed to me, that I had done nothing for God, and that I 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, to prepare me for the work of the ministry, and in his own time to send me into his harvest. I felt a power of intercession for the advancement of the kingdom of my dear Lord; and withal, a sweet resignation, and even joy in the thoughts of suffering hardships, distresses, yea death itself, in the promotion of it. 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 sweat, tho’ in the shade. My soul was drawn out very much for the world; I grasped for multitudes of souls. 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 never 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!

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.――This has been a sweet day to me: blessed be God. I think my soul was never so drawn out in intercession for others. I had a fervent wrestle with the Lord for my enemies; and I hardly ever so longed to live to God, and to be altogether devoted to him.

Lord’s day, April 25. This morning I spent about two hours in secret, 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 myself much pressed, as frequently of late, to plead for the meekness and calmness of the Lamb of God. O it is a sweet disposition, heartily to forgive all injuries, 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 a sense of the blessedness of the upper world. Those words hung upon me with much sweetness, Psalms 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. I 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 compleat restoration of the blessed image of my Saviour; that I may be fit for the blessed enjoyments and employments of the heavenly world.

Monday, April 26. I continued in a sweet frame of mind. God was pleased to make it a humbling season. My soul exceedingly longs for that blessed state of perfection, of deliverance from all sin!――At night God enabled me to give my soul up to him, to cast myself upon him, to be 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 centered in him. O that I could spend every moment of my life to his glory!

*Tuesday, April 27. I retired and God was pleased to pour such ineffable comforts into my soul, that I could do nothing for sometime 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 a thousand lives, my soul would gladly have laid them all down, to have been with Christ. My soul never enjoyed so much of heaven before; it was the most refined communion with God I ever felt: I never before felt so great a degree of resignation.

*Wednesday, April 28. I withdrew to my usual place of retirement, and spent about two hours in secret. I felt much as I did yesterday morning, only weaker and more overcome. I seemed to hang wholly on my dear Lord; wholly weaned from all other dependencies. I knew not what to say to my God, but only lean on his bosom, as it were, and breathe out my desires after 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 he over ruled all; which greatly delighted me. I think my faith and dependance 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.――In the evening my heart seemed sweetly to melt, and was humbled for indwelling corruption, and I mourned like a dove. I felt that all my unhappiness arose from my being a sinner; for with resignation I could welcome all other trials; but sin hung heavy upon me: for God discovered to me the corruption of my heart; so that 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 all my dross, and take away my ♦tin.”

Friday, April 30. Nothing grieves me so much as that I cannot live constantly to God’s glory. I could bear any spiritual conflicts, if I could but have my heart all the while burning with love to God; for when I feel this I cannot be dejected, but only rejoice in my Saviour, who has delivered me from the reigning power, and will shortly deliver me from the indwelling of sin.

Lord’s-day, May 2. God was pleased to give me such a sight of myself, as made me appear vile in my own eyes: I felt corruption in my heart, which I could by no means suppress; I was exceeding weak, and almost sick with my inward trials.

Lord’s-day, May 9. I never felt so much of the cursed pride of my heart, as well as the stubbornness of my will before. O what a wretch I am! I could not submit to be nothing, and to lie down in the dust. Oh that God would humble me! I felt myself such a sinner, all day, that I had scarce any comfort. Oh when shall I be “delivered from the body of this death!” I greatly feared, lest through stupidity I should lose the benefit of these trials. O that they might be sanctified to my soul! Nothing seemed to touch me but this, that I was a sinner.

Thursday, May 13. I 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 was almost pressed to death with my vileness. Oh what a body of death is there in me! Lord, deliver my soul. 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, and spread before them the treatment I had met with at Yale-college; who thought it adviseable to intercede for me with the rector and trustees, and to intreat them to restore me to my former privileges.¹

Saturday, June 12. I spent much time in prayer this morning, and enjoyed much sweetness.—Felt insatiable longings after God: 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!

Monday, June 14. I felt something of the sweetness of communion with God, and the constraining force of his love:—I set apart this day for fasting and prayer, to intreat God to bless me with regard to the great work of preaching the gospel. 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 my 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, 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.

Tuesday, June 15. I had the most ardent longings after God, that I ever felt in my life: at noon, in secret, I could do nothing but tell my dear Lord, 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’s being enlarged, to contain more holiness; that my soul seemed ready to separate from my body, to obtain it. I then wrestled in an agony for divine blessings; and 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 sweet enjoyments before; more engaged to live to God for ever. Oh how short do I fall of my duty in my sweetest moments!

Friday, June 18. Considering my great unfitness for the ministry, I set apart this day for prayer to God, and 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.

*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. O that the Lord would help me to hold out, yet a little while, till the happy hour of deliverance comes!

Lord’s-day, June 20. I spent much time alone. My soul longed to be holy, and reached after God; I hungered and thirsted; but was not satisfied. My soul hung on God, as my only portion. O that I could grow in grace more abundantly every day!

Tuesday, June 22. I was sweetly composed and resigned to God’s will; enabled to leave myself and all my concerns with him, and to have my whole dependence upon him: my secret retirement was very refreshing. 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 to 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!

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; I saw myself so vile, that I was ready to say, “I shall now perish by the hand of Saul.” I almost concluded, I had no power to stand for the cause of God, but was “afraid of the shaking of a leaf.” Spent almost the whole day in prayer. I could not bear to think of Christians shewing me any respect. I almost despaired of doing any service in the world; I could not feel any hope respecting the Heathen, which used to afford me some refreshment in the darkest hours. I spent the day in the bitterness of my soul. Near night I enjoyed some sweetness in prayer.

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. I withdrew, and enjoyed a happy season in secret: God was pleased to give me the exercise of faith, and thereby brought the invisible and eternal world near to my soul. I hoped, that my weary pilgrimage would be short; that it would not be long before I was brought to my Father’s house: but I was sweetly resigned to God’s will, to tarry his time, to do his work, and suffer his pleasure. I felt pleased, to be little, to be nothing, and to lie in the dust. I enjoyed life and sweet 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 Amen.”

Monday, July 19. My desires are carried out after weanedness from the world, perfect deadness to it, and to be crucified to all its allurements. My soul longs to feel itself 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.

*Thursday, July 22. Journeying from Southbury to Ripton, I called at a house, where being kindly entertained, I was filled with amazement and shame, that God should stir up the hearts of any to shew so much kindness to such a dead dog as I; and was sensible, how exceeding 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.

Thursday, July 29. I was examined by the association met at Danbury, as to my learning, and experiences in religion, and received a licence from them to preach the gospel of Christ. Afterwards I felt much devoted to God: joined in prayer with one of the ministers; and went to bed resolving to live devoted to God all my days.

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PART IV.

From the time of his being appointed Missionary, to his entrance on his mission among the Indians at Kaunaumeek.

FRIDAY, November 26. I had still a sense of my own vileness, and endeavoured as much as I could to keep alone. O what a nothing, what dust and ashes am I!—I enjoyed some comfort in spreading my complaints before God.

Saturday, November 27. I committed my soul to God with some degree of comfort; left New-York about nine in the morning; came away with a distressing sense of my unspeakable unworthiness. Surely I may well love all my brethren; for none of them all is as vile as I; whatever they do outwardly, yet it seems to me none is conscious of so much inward sin. O my leanness, my barrenness, my past bitterness, and want of a gospel-temper!

Wednesday, December 1. My soul breathed after God in longing desires of conformity to him: my soul was brought to rest itself, on his rich grace, and felt strength to do or suffer any thing that divine Providence should allot me.

[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.]

Saturday, December 11. I conversed with a dear friend, to whom I had thought of giving a liberal education, that he might be fitted for the gospel ministry. I acquainted him with my thoughts, and left him to consider of it, till I should see him again. Then I rode to Bethlehem, to Mr. Bellamy’s lodgings; and spent the evening with him in sweet conversation and prayer.

Lord’s day, December 12. I 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, nor were my devotions ever so much refined, I preached with some sweetness, from Matthew vi. 33. Blessed be God, I have reason to think, that my religion is become more spiritual, by means of my late inward conflicts. May I always be willing that God should use his own methods with me!—I felt much of the sweetness of religion, and the tenderness of the gospel-temper: I found a dear love to all mankind, and I was afraid of scarcely any thing so much as lest some motion of anger or resentment should, some time or other, creep into my heart.

Tuesday, December 21. I rode over to Derby, and preached; it pleased God to give me sweet assistance, and to enable me to speak with a soft and 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 world of spirits. This day was, I trust made 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!

Lord’s day, December 26. I felt much sweetness and tenderness in prayer, my whole soul seemed to love my worst enemies, and I was enabled to pray for those that are strangers to God with a degree of softness and pathetic fervour.

Monday, December 27. I enjoyed a precious season; I had a sweet sense of the pure spirituality of the religion of Christ Jesus. In the evening I preached with much freedom, power and pungency. O the tenderness I felt in my soul! 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!

Friday, January 14, 1742‒3. My spiritual conflicts were unspeakably dreadful, heavier than the mountains and overflowing floods: I seemed inclosed 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. *This was distress the nearest a-kin to the damned’s torments that I ever endured: their torments, I am sure will consist much in the privation of God, and consequently of all good. This taught me the absolute dependance of a creature upon 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 supposed 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 to the house of God, and he was pleased to give me freedom and enlargement, and I spent the evening comfortably.

*Lord’s day, January 23. I scarce ever felt myself so unfit to exist, as now: I saw I was not worthy of a place among the Indians, where I am going; I thought I should be ashamed to look them in the face, and much more to have any respect shewn me. Indeed I felt myself banished from the earth, as if all places were too good for such a wretch as I: 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 knows, but those that feel it, what the soul endures that is sensibly shut out from the presence of God; alas it is more bitter than death.

Wednesday, January 26. I preached to a pretty large assembly; insisted on humility, and stedfastness in keeping God’s commands; and that through humility we should prefer one another in love. I felt sweetly calm, and full of brotherly love, never more free from party spirit. I hope some good will follow, that Christians will be freed from party zeal and censuring one another.

[On Thursday, after a considerable time spent in prayer and Christian conversation, he rode to New-London.]

*Friday, January 28. Here I found some carried away with a false zeal and bitterness. Oh, the want of a gospel-temper is greatly to be lamented. I spent the evening in conversing with some about some points of conduct in both ministers and private Christians; but did not agree with them: God had not taught them with briars and thorns to be of a kind disposition toward mankind.

Wednesday, February 2. I preached my farewell-sermon, at the house of an aged man, who had been unable to attend on the public worship for some time; and this morning spent the time in prayer. Having taken leave of my friends, I set out on my journey towards the Indians; though by the way I was to spend some time at East-Hampton on Long-Island; 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 here below, and seemed loth to give up all; I saw I was throwing myself into all hardships and distresses: I thought it would be less difficult to lie down in the grave; but yet I chose to go, rather than stay.—I 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.

On Saturday he crossed the Sound, landed on Long-Island, and travelled to East-Hampton, and the seven following days he spent there, for the most part, under extreme dejection of mind.]

Lord’s-day, February 13. I was under great discouragement; knew not how it was possible for me to preach, and was ready to give up all! But God was pleased to assist me. In the evening, my heart was sweetly drawn out after God, and devoted to him.

Tuesday, February 15. Early in the day I felt some comfort; afterwards I walked into a neighbouring grove, and felt more a stranger on earth than ever; as dead to the enjoyments of the world, as if I had been dead in a natural sense.—In the evening I had 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.

Thursday, February 17. I preached this day at a little village; and God was pleased to give me his gracious assistance, so that I spake with freedom, boldness, and power. *In the evening, I spent some time with a dear Christian friend; felt as on the brink of eternity; my soul enjoyed sweetness in lively apprehensions of standing before the glorious God: prayed with my dear friend, and discoursed with the utmost solemnity. And truly it was a little emblem of heaven itself.

Friday, February 18. I felt sweetly most of the day, and found access to the throne of grace. Blessed be the Lord for any intervals of composure while I am in the field of battle. O that I might be serious, solemn, and always vigilant, while in an evil world! O, I long to live to God!

[During the next fortnight, he, for the most part, enjoyed much peace and comfort. And this space of time was filled up with great diligence and earnestness in serving God, in study, prayer, meditation, preaching, and private instructing and counselling.]

*Monday, March 7. This morning when I arose, I found my heart go after God in longing desires of conformity to him: and in secret prayer I found myself sweetly drawn out in praises to God for all he had done to and for me, and for all my inward trials and distresses; 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 chearfulness bear any thing for the cause of God; for I saw that a moment would bring me to a world of peace and blessedness; and my soul, by the strength of the Lord, rose far above this lower world, and all the vain amusements and frightful disappointments of it.

Lord’s-day, March 13. At noon, I thought it impossible for me to preach, by reason of bodily weakness and inward deadness; and in the first prayer, I was so weak that I could hardly stand; but in sermon, God strengthened me, so that I spake near an hour and half with freedom, clearness, and tender power, from Genesis 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!

Saturday, March 19. I was 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 I 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!

Lord’s-day, March 20. I 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, I 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 passionate desire of the edification of God’s people. *In the evening, I felt something spiritual and watchful, lest my heart should by any means be drawn away from God. Oh, when shall I 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 the correspondents, instead of sending him to the Forks of Delaware, 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, 1. Information they had received of some contention now subsisting between the white people and the Indians at Delaware, which they supposed would be a hindrance 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 prospect of success that a missionary might have among them.]

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PART V.

From his first beginning to instruct the Indians at Kaunaumeek, to his Ordination.

FRIDAY, April 1, 1743. I rode to Kaunaumeek, near twenty miles from Stockbridge, where the Indians live, and I lodged on a little heap of straw. I was greatly exercised with inward distresses all day; and in the evening seemed to have no God to go to. O that God would help me!

The place 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, from the Highlands of Scotland, and had then lived 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.

Thursday, April 7. I appeared to myself exceeding ignorant, weak, helpless, 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 life: I longed for death, 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 those desires rose partly for want of resignation to God. Towards night, I had faith in prayer, and some assistance in writing. O that God would keep me near him!

*Friday, April 8. I was exceedingly pressed under a sense of my party-spirit, in times past, while I attempted to promote the cause of God: its vile nature appeared in such odious colours, that my very heart was pained: I saw how poor souls stumbled over it into everlasting destruction, and 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 anguish and shame before God, that I had spent so much time in conversation tending only to promote a party-spirit. I saw I had not duly prized mortification, self-denial, resignation under all adversities, meekness, love, candour, and holiness of heart and life.—Of late, I have thought much of having the kingdom of Christ advanced in the world; but now I saw I had enough to do myself. The Lord be merciful to me a sinner.

Lord’s-day, April 10. I preached to the Indians, both forenoon and afternoon. They behaved soberly in general: two or three appeared under some concern; with whom I discoursed privately; and one told me, “her heart had cried, ever since she heard me preach first.”

Wednesday, April 13. I verily thought I was the meanest, vilest, most helpless, ignorant creature living. And yet I knew what God had done for my soul: though sometimes I was assaulted with doubts, whether it was possible for such a wretch as I, to be in a state of grace.

Tuesday, April 19. In the morning, I enjoyed sweet repose in God; felt some confidence; and was refreshed and comforted. My soul was lifted above the deep waters, wherein it has been so long almost drowned; I found myself engaged for the advancement of Christ’s kingdom in my own soul, more than in the Heathen world.

Wednesday, April 20. I set apart this day for fasting and prayer, to bow my soul before God for grace; especially that all my inward distresses might be sanctified to my soul. I endeavoured also to remember the goodness of God to me in the year past. Having obtained help of God, I am now arrived at the age of twenty-five years. My soul was pained, to think of my barrenness; 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!

*Friday, April 22. My leanness testifies against me! My soul abhors itself for its unlikeness to God, its inactivity and sluggishness. When I have done all, what an unprofitable servant am I! I groan 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, for God and his glory.

*Tuesday, May 10. I was extremely pressed with a sense of guilt, pollution, blindness; the sins of my youth were set in order before me; they went over my head a 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, Oh! the pride, selfishness, ignorance, bitterness, party-zeal, and the want of love, candour, meekness, and gentleness, that have attended my attempts to promote religion; and this when I had real assistance from above, and some sweet intercourse with heaven! But, what corrupt mixtures attended my best duties!

After several weeks I found my distance from the Indians a very great disadvantage, as I was obliged to travel forward and backward almost daily on foot having no pasture in which I could keep my horse. And after all my pains, I could not be with them in the evening and morning, which were hours when they could best attend my instructions.

I therefore resolved to remove, and live with or near the Indians, that I might watch when they were at home and take that time for their instruction.

Accordingly I removed and for a time lived with them in one of their wigwams: not long after I built me a small house, where I spent the remainder of that year alone; my interpreter (who was an Indian) choosing rather to live in a wigwam among his own countrymen.

But although the difficulties of this solitary way of living are not the least, yet I can truly say the burden I felt respecting my great work among the poor Indians, the fear and concern that continually hung upon my spirit, lest they should be prejudiced against Christianity, by means of some who (although they are called Christians) had rather the Indians should remain heathens, that they may with more ease cheat them; the fear and concern I felt in these respects, 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, it was much more encouraging, than expected. Their prejudices against Christianity, were in a great measure removed by the long continued labours of the Rev. Mr. Sergeant among a number of the same tribe, in a place more than twenty miles distant: by which means, these were in some degree, prepared to entertain the truths of Christianity instead of objecting against them as is common with them at first. Some of them appeared well disposed toward religion, and seemed pleased with my coming among them.

*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.¹ Most of the talk I hear, is either Highland Scotch or Indian. I have no fellow-Christian to whom I might unbosom myself, and lay open my spiritual sorrows, and with whom I might take sweet counsel about heavenly things, and join in prayer. I live poorly with regard to the comforts of life: most of my diet consists of boiled corn, and hasty pudding. I lodge on a bundle of straw, my labour is hard; and I have little appearance of success. The Indian affairs are very difficult; having no land to live on, but what the Dutch threaten to drive them from; they have no regard to the souls of the poor Indians; and 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.”

[Here he had various exercises of mind; from his first coming to Kaunaumeek, till he got into his own house, a little hut that he made chiefly with his own hands, with long and hard labour. How it was with him in those dark seasons he further describes in his diary for July 2.] “My soul is, and has for a long time been in a pitieous 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 while I have travelled among the thick brakes, to drop into everlasting oblivion. In this case, I have almost resolved never again to see any of my acquaintance; and really thought, I could 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: having at the same time, ten thousand former sins and follies presented to my view.――And these attended with such external circumstances as mine at present are; destitute of most of the conveniences 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.”

[One main occasion of that distressing gloominess, next to natural ♦melancholy, was reflecting on his past errors and misguided zeal at college. Therefore he repeated his endeavours for reconciliation with the governors of the college. And although he had been at New-Haven, in June, and had attempted a reconciliation; yet in the beginning of July, he made another journey thither, and renewed his attempt, but still in vain.]

Saturday, July 30. Just at night, I moved into my own house, and lodged there; and I found it much better spending the time alone at my own house, than in the wigwam where I was before.

Wednesday, August 3. I am now uninterruptly alone; and find my retirement comfortable. I have enjoyed more sense of divine things within a few days 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, August 4. I have generally found the more I do in secret prayer, the more I enjoy of a spirit of prayer; and I frequently have found the contrary, when with journeying or otherwise, I have been 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 to the divine presence. Filling up our time with and for God, is the way to rise up and lie down in peace.

Saturday, August 13. I 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: “I counted the sufferings of the present life not worthy to be compared with the glory” of divine enjoyments even in this world. All my past sorrows seemed to disappear, and I “remembered no more the sorrow for joy.”—With what a filial tenderness, the soul hangs on, and 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; 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 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.

Monday, August 15. In my weak state of body, I was not a little distressed for want of suitable food. 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: and then again I have none for some days together, for want of an opportunity to send for it. And this was my case now: but through divine goodness I had some Indian meal, of which I made little cakes, and fried them. And I 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 I never feel comfortably, but when I find my soul going forth after God: if I cannot be holy, I must be miserable for ever.

Lord’s day, August 21. I fell down before the Lord, and groaned under my own vileness, barrenness, deadness, and felt as if I was guilty of foul murder, in speaking to immortal souls in such a manner as I had done.—I was very full of pain in the evening; and my soul mourned that I had spent so much time to so little profit.

*Monday, August 22. I had intense breathings of soul after holiness, and very clear manifestations of my utter inability to work it in myself. 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 obtain purity of heart.

*Tuesday, August 23. I poured out my soul for all the world, friends, and enemies. My soul was concerned for Christ’s kingdom that it might appear in the whole earth. And I 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.

Wednesday, August 24. I thought, if God should say, “You shall in a few days go into eternity,” my soul would leap for joy. O that I may both “desire to be dissolved,” and “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, August 25. I find it is impossible to enjoy peace and tranquility 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,” says our Lord. And, 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 preparation for the world of blessedness: I see and know that I am a barren tree in God’s vineyard, and that he might justly say, “Cut it down.” O that God would make me more lively and vigorous in grace, for his own glory!

Lord’s-day, August 28. I was much perplexed with some Dutchmen. All their discourse turned upon the things of the world. 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.”—But adored be God, heaven is a place “into which no unclean thing enters.” O I long for the holiness of that world! Lord prepare me for it.

Wednesday, August 31. 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 stranger in this, diligently seeking a road through it, a sure road to the heavenly Jerusalem!

Thursday, September 1. I always feel comfortably when God realizes death, and the things of another world to my mind: whenever my mind is taken off from the things of this world, and set on God, my soul is at rest.

Tuesday, September 13. I rode to New-Haven. *I find, though my inward trials are great, and a life of solitude gives them greater advantages to penetrate the inmost recesses of the soul; yet it is better to be alone, than incumbered with noise and tumult. I find it very difficult maintaining a 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, September 14. This day I ought to have taken my degree;¹ but God sees fit to deny it me. And though I was afraid of being overwhelmed with confusion, when I should see my class-mates take theirs; yet, in the very season of it, God enabled me with calmness to say, “The will of the Lord be done.” Indeed, I have scarcely felt my mind so sedate and comfortable for some time. I have long feared this season, and expected my humility, meekness, patience, and resignation would be tried: but found much more pleasure and divine comfort than I expected.

Thursday, September 15. It is always a comfort to me, to hear spiritual discourse. O that ministers and people were more spiritual and devoted to God!—Towards night, I offered the following reflections in writing, to the rector ♦and trustees of the college, (the same that I had offered to the rector before, and intreated him to accept;) and this I did, that if possible I might cut off all occasion of offence, from those that seek occasion.

*“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 favour of that humble respect, that I ought to have expressed towards Mr. Whittelsey. I have often reflected on this act with grief, 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 I now appear, to judge and condemn myself for going once to the separate meeting in New-Haven, 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, 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 and offence to others. For this reason I can chearfully give up what I verily believe, after the most impartial search, is my right. God has given me that disposition, that if this were the case, that a man has done me an hundred injuries, and I (though ever so much provoked to it) have done him one, I am 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; yea, though he should as it were insult me, and say, “he knew all this before, and that I was making work for repentance.” 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 and made public, I was willing to confess my fault therein publickly.¹

[The next day he went to Derby; then to Southbury, where he spent the Sabbath.]

Tuesday, September 20. I 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 decree of warmth the whole night following. I continued very full of pain all night; and in the morning had a fever, and pains almost all over my body. I had a sense of the divine goodness in appointing this to be the place of my sickness, among my friends. 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. I continued thus, mostly confined to my bed, till Friday night; very full of pain; but not afraid of death.――On Friday evening my pains went off suddenly.

[From this time, he gradually recovered; and on the next Tuesday was able to go forward on his journey; but was till the Tuesday following before he reached Kaunaumeek.]

Tuesday, October 4. This day I rode home to my own house and people. The poor Indians appeared very glad of my return. I presently fell on my knees, and blessed God for my safe return. 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 calamity to befal me, though 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 once lay out in the woods all night.

Lord’s-day, October 16. I retired, and poured out my soul to God with much freedom; and yet in anguish, to find my soul so unspeakably sinful and unworthy before a holy God. I 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 my life, or carry me away captive, (though I knew of no special reason then to propose this trial to myself,) and my soul seemed so far to rest in God, that the sting and terror of these things was gone. Presently after I received the following letter by a messenger sent on purpose.

“Sir, Just now we received advices from Colonel 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. I am, Sir, &c.”

I thought, it came in a good season; for my heart seemed fixed on God, and therefore I was not surprised: but 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.

Lord’s-day, October 23. I 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.

[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.]

Monday, October 31. 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. I longed to be more abundantly prepared for that blessedness, with which I was then in some measure refreshed.

Thursday, November 3. I spent this day in secret fasting and prayer, from morning till night. Early in the morning, I had some assistance in prayer. Afterwards, I read the story of Elijah the prophet, 1 Kings xvii. xviii. and xix. chapters. My soul was much moved, observing the faith, zeal, and power of that holy man; and how he wrestled with God in prayer. I then cried with Elisha, “Where is the Lord God of Elijah!” 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 refreshing to my soul, was, I saw God is the same that he was in the days of Elijah.—I was enabled to wrestle with God by prayer, in a more affectionate, humble, 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 lost all hopes of doing any special service for God in the world; it appeared entirely impossible, that one so vile should be thus employed for God. But at this time God was pleased to revive this hope.—Afterwards I read the third chapter of Exodus and on to the xxth, 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. My soul was ardent in prayer, and I was enabled to wrestle for myself, for my friends, and for the church of God. And I 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!

*Monday November 7. This morning my mind was solemn, fixed, affectionate, and ardent in desires after holiness; and felt full of tenderness and love; and my affections seemed to be dissolved into kindness and softness.—My soul longed after God, and cried to him with filial freedom, reverence, and boldness. O that I might be entirely consecrated and devoted to God!

Thursday, November 10. I spent this day in fasting and prayer. In the morning I was dull and lifeless: But after some time, reading 2 Kings xix. chapter, my soul was moved and affected. I saw there was no way for the afflicted 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; and to cry to God affectionately and ardently for his power to be exercised towards me.

[The remaining part of this week, and the two following weeks, he was very ill, and full of pain; and yet obliged, to be at great fatigues, travelling day and night, in stormy and severe seasons. He from time to time, within this space, speaks of out-goings of soul after God; his heart strengthened in God; seasons of divine sweetness and comfort. And yet there are many complaints of lifelessness, distance from God, and unprofitableness. But still there appears a constant care, from day to day, not to lose time, but to employ it all for God.]

Tuesday, November 29. I began to study the Indian tongue, with Mr. Sergeant at ♦Stockbridge.¹—I 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.

Monday, December 5. I rode to Stockbridge, but was almost outdone with the extreme cold. I had some refreshing meditations by the way; but was barren and lifeless, much of the day. Thus my days roll away, with but little done for God; and this is my burden.

Tuesday, December 6. I was perplexed to see the vanity and levity of professed Christians: but I spent the evening with a Christian friend, that was able to sympathize with me in my spiritual conflicts.

*Thursday, December 8. My mind was lost with different affections. I was looking round in the world, to see if there was not some happiness to be derived from it. God, and some objects in the world seemed each to invite my heart, and my soul seemed to be distracted between them. I have not been so beset for a long time: with relation to some objects which I thought myself most dead to. But while I was desiring to please myself with any thing below, sorrow and perplexity attended the first motions of desire.—I found no peace or deliverance from distraction, till I found access to the throne of grace; and as soon as I had any sense of God, the allurements of the world vanished. But my soul mourned over my folly, that I should desire any pleasure, but in God. God forgive my spiritual idolatry.

Thursday, December 22. I spent this day alone in fasting and prayer, and reading in God’s word the exercises and deliverance of his children. I had realizing apprehensions of divine power, grace, and holiness; and also of the unchangeableness of God, that he is the same as he was when he delivered his saints of old out of 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!”

Monday, December 26. I rode down to Stockbridge, but was very much fatigued with my journey, wherein I underwent great hardship: being very wet by falling into a river. I spent the day without much sense of divine things; but perplexed with wandering thoughts.

Thursday, December 29. I spent the day mainly in conversing with friends; yet enjoyed little satisfaction, because I could find but few disposed to converse of heavenly things. Alas what are the things of this world, to afford satisfaction to the soul!――I blessed God for retirement, and that I am not always exposed to company. O that I could live “in the secret of God’s presence!”

Friday, December 30. I was in a solemn devout frame and 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, December 31. I rode from Stockbridge home: the air was clear and calm, but as cold as ever I felt it. I was in great danger of perishing by the extremity of the season.

Lord’s-day, January 1, 1743‒4. Of a truth God has been gracious to me the past year, 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 month’s past, to bestow to charitable uses about an hundred pounds. 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. O that I could begin this year with God, and spend the whole of it to his glory, either in life or death!

Tuesday, January 3. My time passes away so swiftly, that I am astonished when I reflect how little I do in it. 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 do not, and it seems I cannot, lead a Christian life when I am abroad, and cannot spend time in devotion, Christian conversation, and meditation. Those weeks that I am obliged to be from home, in order to learn the Indian tongue, are mostly spent in barrenness. When I return home, and give myself to meditation, prayer, and fasting, a new scene opens, and my soul longs for mortification, self-denial, humility, and divorcement from all the things of the world.

*Wednesday, January 4. Time appeared a moment, life a vapour, and all its enjoyments as empty bubbles, and fleeting blasts of wind.

*Friday, January 6. Feeling my extreme weakness, and want of grace, I set apart this day for fasting and prayer, neither eating nor drinking from evening to evening. And my soul intensely longed, that the dreadful spots and stains of sin may be washed away. My mind was greatly fixed on divine things: my resolutions for a life of mortification, continual watchfulness, self-denial, seriousness, and devotion to God, were strong and fixed; my desires ardent and intense: my conscience tender and afraid of every appearance of evil. My soul was grieved with the reflection on my 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.

Saturday, January 14. This morning I enjoyed a solemn season in prayer: my soul seemed enlarged, 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 I was so enabled to see him who is invisible, that my soul rested upon him for the performance of every thing I asked. It was my happiness, to “continue instant in prayer.” My soul was “strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might.” I longed exceedingly for angelic holiness, and to have all my thoughts, at all times employed in heavenly things. O how blessed is an heavenly temper! O how unspeakably blessed it is to feel a measure of that rectitude, in which we were at first created!

[The next day he speaks of some glimpses he had of the divine glories; but seems to be filled with fears lest he should return to a life of vanity, to please himself with some of the enjoyments of this world; and speaks of his being much troubled that he should address immortal souls with no more ardency and desire of their salvation.]

Saturday, February 4. I enjoyed freedom and spiritual refreshment; was enabled to pray with fervency, and longing desires for Zion’s prosperity, and my faith and hope seem 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.

Monday, February 6. This morning, my soul was strengthened in God, and found sweet repose in him; 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. And I did not desire deliverance from any difficulty, unless God was willing.

Tuesday, February 7. I was much engaged in meditation 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 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 thee. 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 pure: 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!¹ O my soul, wo, wo is me that I am a sinner, because I 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! I could bear any suffering; 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 this best of beings? O that I could consecrate myself, soul and body, to his service for ever! O that I 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 cannot be thus entirely devoted to God.² 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!”

Thursday, February 9. I observed this day as a day of fasting and prayer, intreating 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. I enjoyed a realizing sense of divine power and goodness in prayer: and was enabled to roll the burden of myself and friends, and of Zion, upon the goodness of God.

Friday, February 10. I was exceedingly oppressed with shame, grief, and fear, under a sense of my past folly. When God sets before me my past misconduct, especially any instances of misguided zeal, it sinks my soul into shame and confusion.—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.

Monday, February 13. I rode to Stockbridge, and had a more refreshing taste 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 unspeakable pleasure 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 me better to die, than to lose the relish of these heavenly delights.

Wednesday, February 22. I had as clear a sense of the pollution of my nature, as ever I had in my life. I appeared to myself inexpressibly lothsome; sins of childhood, of early youth, and such follies as I had not thought of for years together, came fresh to my view, as if committed but yesterday. Yet I was supported under my burdens; and found it was comfortable to lean on God.

*Friday, March 2. I never felt so much love to my enemies, (though at that time I found such a disposition, that I scarce knew how to think that any such thing as enmity 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 them.

*Saturday, March 3. I spent an hour in prayer, with great freedom, and with the most soft and tender affection towards mankind. I longed that those who 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: I 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, to love all the world with a love of kindness and benevolence; to feel our souls sedate, mild and meek; to be void of all evil-surmisings and suspicions, scarce able to think evil of any man; to find our hearts, simple, open and free, to those that look upon us with a different eye.

*Lord’s-day, March 4. I enjoyed the same intenseness in prayer as yesterday, felt the same spirit of love, universal benevolence, forgiveness, humility, resignation, mortification to the world, and composure of mind. “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 confide in God, all things appear with a different aspect.

*Saturday, March 10. I felt exceeding dead to the world, and all its enjoyments: I was ready 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 appeared but an empty bubble; the riches, honours, and enjoyments of it extremely tasteless. I longed to be perpetually and entirely crucified to all things here below. My soul was sweetly resigned to God’s disposal of me, in every regard; and I saw, there had nothing happened to me 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 “my meat and drink to be holy, to live to the Lord, and to die to the Lord.” And I then enjoyed such an heaven, as far exceeded the most sublime conceptions of an unregenerate soul; and even unspeakably beyond what I myself could conceive 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 of sweet affection to some godly ministers. I prayed earnestly 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. I 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; and 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.—I 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.

Lord’s-day, March 11. I had some freedom, affection, and fervency in addressing my poor people; longing that God should take hold of their hearts. And indeed I had so much to say to them, that I knew not how to leave off speaking.¹

Monday, March 12. My spirit was full of quietness, and love to mankind; and I longed that peace should reign on the earth: I was grieved at the very thoughts of a fiery, angry, and intemperate zeal in religion; mourned over my past follies; and confided in God for grace sufficient for my future work and trials.—Spent the day mainly in hard labour, making preparation for my intended journey.

Wednesday, March 14. I enjoyed some intenseness of soul in prayer, repeating my petitions for God’s presence in every place, and besought the Lord that I might not be too much pleased with my dear friends and acquaintance. Near ten I set out on my journey, and before night came to Stockbridge.

Thursday, March 15. I 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; I knew not what to do; but endeavoured to commit the cause to God.

[The two next days, he went no farther than Salisbury, being 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] I 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.—Here another messenger met me, and informed me of the vote of another congregation, to give me an invitation to come among them. I was something exercised in mind. 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 bodily indisposition. However, he preached several times by the way, in which he had considerable assistance: he speaks of comfort in conversation with Christian friends; but yet complains of a decline of vivacity, by means of his constant removal from place to place, and want of retirement. He came to New-York on Wednesday, March 28, and to Elisabeth-Town on the Saturday following, where it seems he waited till the commissioners came together.]

Thursday, April 5. I attended on the commissioners in their meeting,¹ and 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.²

[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, to his native town of Haddam; where he arrived on Saturday, April 14.]

*Tuesday, April 17. I 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 a pace. O I longed to fill up the remaining moments all for God! Though my body was so feeble, and wearied with preaching, and private conversation, yet I wanted to sit up all the night to do something for God. To God, the giver of these refreshments, be glory for ever and ever.

[After this, he visited several ministers in Connecticut; and then travelled towards Kaunaumeek, and came to Mr. Sergeant’s at Stockbridge, Thursday, April 26.]

Friday and Saturday, April 27, and 28. I spent some time in discoursing with my people, who were now moved down from their own place to Mr. Sergeant’s.

Monday, April 30. I rode to Kaunaumeek, but was extremely ill; and did not enjoy the comfort I hoped for in my own house.

Tuesday, May 1. Having received new orders to go to the 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. I 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.

Tuesday, May 8. I 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.”

[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 an 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,¹ and discoursed with them concerning Christianity, but was 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.]

On May 10. I met with a number of Indians in a place called Minnissinks, about an hundred and forty miles from Kaunaumeek, 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, I told him I had a desire 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 talked very warmly near a quarter of an hour, and inquired why I desired the Indians to become Christians, seeing the Christians were so much worse than the Indians? 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 then would be as bad as these. He added, 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 towards 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, in a manner I thought most engaging: and soon after informed him 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 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. And since that time he has ever shewn himself friendly to me, giving me free liberty to preach in his house whenever I think fit.—Here therefore I spent the greater part of the summer, 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 removed 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 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 often the most of those belonging to these parts.

Lord’s-day, May 13. I rose early; felt very poorly after my long journey, and after being wet and fatigued. I had scarce ever 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. 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.—I 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: I went and preached first to the Irish, and then to the Indians: and in the evening I 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. I felt myself loose from all the world; all appeared “vanity and vexation of spirit.” I seemed lonesome, as if I was banished from all mankind, and bereaved of all that is called pleasant in the world; but appeared to myself so vile and unworthy, it seemed fitter for me to be here than anywhere.

Thursday, May 17. I was greatly distressed with a sense of my vileness; appearing to myself too bad to walk on God’s earth. God was pleased to let me see my inward pollution to such a degree, that I almost despaired of being made holy. In the afternoon I met with the Indians, according to appointment, and preached to them. And while riding to them, I seemed to confide in God; and afterwards had some enlargement in prayer; vital piety and holiness appeared sweet to me, and I longed for the perfection of it.

Lord’s-day, May 20. I preached twice to the poor Indians, and enjoyed some freedom in speaking. My soul longed for assistance from above, all the while; for I saw I had no strength for that work. Afterwards I preached to the Irish people; and several seemed much concerned, with whom I discoursed afterwards with freedom and power. Blessed be God for any assistance to an unworthy worm.

Lord’s-day, May 27. I visited my Indians in the morning, and attending upon a funeral among them, was affected to see their Heathenish practices. O that they might be “turned from darkness to light!” Afterwards I got a considerable number of them together, and preached to them; and observed them very attentive. I then preached to the white people, and several seemed much concerned; especially one who had been educated a Roman catholic. Blessed be the Lord for any help.

Monday, June 11. This day the presbytery met at Newark, in order to my ordination. I was very weak and disordered in body; yet endeavoured to repose my confidence in God. At three in the afternoon I preached my probation-sermon, from Acts xxvi. 17, 18, being a text given me for that end. Afterwards I passed an examination before the presbytery. My mind was burdened with the greatness of that charge I was about to take upon me: so that I could not sleep this night, though very weary and in great need of rest.

Tuesday, June 12. I was this morning further examined, respecting my experimental acquaintance with Christianity. At ten o’clock my ordination was attended. I was affected with a sense of the important trust committed to me; yet was composed, and solemn, without distraction: and I then (as many times before) 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.

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PART VI.

From his ordination, till he began to preach to the Indians at Crosweeksung.

THURSDAY, June 14. I wondered, that God should open the hearts of any to treat me with kindness: and saw myself to be unworthy of any favour, from God or men. I had much pain in my head; however I determined to set out on my journey towards Delaware; but in the afternoon my pain increased, so that I was obliged to take to my bed; and the night following, I was greatly distressed with pain and sickness, and almost bereaved of reason. On Saturday I was something relieved; but unable to walk, till the Monday following. 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.—God is very gracious to me, both in health and sickness, and intermingles much mercy with all my afflictions.

[On Tuesday, June 19. He set out, and in three days reached his place, near the Forks of Delaware.]

*Lord’s-day, June 24. I was scarce able to walk: however, visited my Indians, and took much pains to instruct them. But my mind was much burdened with the weight of my work. My whole dependence was 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. 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. I longed much for the advancement of the Redeemer’s kingdom on earth, and was very fearful lest I should admit some vain thought, and so lose the sense I had of divine things. O for an abiding heavenly temper!

*Tuesday, June 26. I was much discouraged with the extreme difficulty of the work; yet God supported me; and though the work of their conversion appeared “impossible with man, yet with God” I saw “all things were possible.” I was much assisted in prayer, especially for the poor Heathen, and those of my own charge: 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 was engaged for it. I continued solemnly lifting up my heart to God, that I might be more mortified to this world, that my soul might be taken up continually in the advancement of Christ’s kingdom: and longed that God would purge me more, that I might be as a chosen vessel to bear his name among the Heathens.

Wednesday, June 27. In the afternoon, I 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, I had a deep sense of the difficulty of my work; and my soul relied wholly upon God for success, in the diligent and faithful use of means. I saw with the 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.

Thursday, June 28. Towards noon I rode up to the Indians; and while going, my heart went up to God in prayer for them; I could freely tell God, he knew the cause was not mine, but his own, and it would be for his own glory to convert the poor Indians: and blessed be God. I felt no desire of honour from the world, as the instrument of it.

Saturday, June 30. My soul was much solemnized 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 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: and was enabled to pray in faith; my soul seemed sensibly to confide in God, and was enabled to wrestle with him. Afterwards, I walked abroad to a place of sweet retirement, and enjoyed assistance in prayer again: had a sense of my great need of divine help, and felt my soul sensibly depend on God.

*Lord’s day, July 1. After I came to the Indians, my mind was confused; and I felt nothing of that sweet reliance on God, that my soul has been comforted with in days past. In the afternoon I felt still barren, when I began to preach; 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; and God helped me to plead with them, to “turn from all the vanities of the Heathen, to the living God:” I am persuaded, the Lord touched their consciences; for I never saw such attention in them before. When I came away, I spent the whole time I was riding, in prayer and praise to God. And after I had rode two miles, it came into my mind to dedicate myself to God again: which I did with great solemnity, and unspeakable satisfaction; especially giving up myself to him anew in the work of the ministry. And this I did without any exception or reserve; not in the least shrinking back from any difficulties, that might attend this blessed work. I was most free, chearful, 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, I 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; 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, was now considerably overcome: my fingers grew very feeble, and numb, so that I could scarcely stretch them out strait; and when I lighted from my horse I could hardly walk, my joints seeming all to be loosed. But I felt abundant strength in the inner man. I preached to the white people, and God helped me much. Sundry of my poor Indians were so moved as to come to meeting also; and one appeared much concerned.

Tuesday, July 3. This morning, I was enabled to pray under a feeling sense of my need of help, to plead with God a considerable time. Truly God is good to me. But my soul was grieved at my sinfulness and ♦barrenness, and longed to be more engaged for God. 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! O my soul longed to employ my time wholly for God!—In the evening, I was enabled again to wrestle with God in prayer with fervency to maintain a self-diffident and watchful frame of spirit, jealous and afraid lest I should admit carelessness or self-confidence.

Friday, July 6. 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, my chief concern 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 chiefly, that whereby I may become an “able minister of the New Testament,” especially to the Heathen. I spent two hours this morning in reading and prayer; and was in a watchful tender frame, afraid of every thing that might cool my affections, and draw away my heart from God.

*Lord’s day, July 8. I 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. I longed to “depart, and be with Christ,” more than at any time of late. My soul was exceedingly united to the saints of antient times, as well as those now living; especially my soul melted for the society of Elijah and Elisha.

Wednesday, July 11. My soul was diffident, watchful, and tender, lest I should offend my blessed Friend, in thought or behaviour. I 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!

Saturday, July 21. 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 to prayer, hoping for strength from above. And in prayer I was exceedingly enlarged, and my soul was much drawn out. I pleaded with so much earnestness and importunity, that when I arose from my knees 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. I knew they were met together to worship devils, and not God, and this made me cry earnestly that God would appear, and help me in my attempts to break up this idolatrous meeting. My soul pleaded long; and I thought God would go with me to vindicate his own cause: and thus I spent the evening, praying incessantly that I might not be self-dependent, but have my whole dependence upon God. What I passed through was inexpressible. *All things here below vanished; and there appeared to be nothing of any 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 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.

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: as soon as I was dressed, I withdrew into the woods, to pour out my soul to him for assistance; 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, my heart was continually going up to God; and hoping, 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 my preaching: yet still there appeared nothing of the special power of God among them. I preached again to them in the afternoon; and observed they were more sober than before; but still saw nothing special among them; from whence Satan took occasion to 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. I was very weak and weary, and my soul borne down with perplexity; but was determined still to wait upon God.

Tuesday, July 24. I rode over a hideous mountain, to a number of Indians, at a place called Kauksesauchung, more than thirty miles westward from the place where I usually preach. I 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, to Susquahannah river.

While I was preaching, they appeared sober, and attentive: and were somewhat surprized, 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 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 home to Susquahannah, and desired I would make them a visit there, and manifested a considerable desire of 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 Heathens farther westward.

[From these Indians he returned to the Irish settlement, and there preached to a numerous congregation: where was a considerable appearance of awakening. Thursday, he returned home, exceedingly fatigued and spent; still in the same mortification to the world, and solicitous for the advancement of Christ’s kingdom: and on this day he says, “I have felt, this week more of the spirit of a pilgrim on earth, than ever before; and yet so desirous to see Zion’s prosperity, that I was not so willing to leave this scene of sorrow as I used to be.”—On the sabbath, he was confined by illness, not able to go out to preach. He continued very ill all the next week, 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; 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 all kind of affection; and yet perplexed, to think, that he lived for nothing, that precious time rolled away, and he could do nothing but trifle.”—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 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 I was extremely weak, faint, sick, and full of pain. And I have continued much the same last week, thro’ the most of this, (it being now Friday) unable to engage in any business; frequently unable to pray in the family. I have neither strength to read, meditate, nor pray: and this perplexes my mind. I seem like a man that has all his estate embarked in one small boat, unhappily going adrift, down a swift current. 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. O that God would pity my distressed state!”

The next day three weeks, his illness was not so extreme; he was in some degree capable of business: he also had, for the most part, much inward assistance; he often expresses great longings for the enlargement of Christ’s kingdom: he speaks of his hope of this as all his delight and joy. He continues still to express his usual longings after holiness, and living to God, and his 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 was none of God’s children who fell so far short of that holiness, and perfection in their obedience, which God requires.]

Saturday, September 1. I enjoyed some comfort and sweetness: and as my bodily strength was a little restored, so my soul seemed to be more engaged in the things of God.

Lord’s-day, September 2. I was enabled to speak to my poor Indians with much concern and fervency; and God enabled me to exercise faith in him, while I was speaking to them. I perceived that some of them were afraid to embrace Christianity, lest they should be enchanted and poisoned by the ♦powwows: but 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 ♦powwows did not bewitch and poison me? I scarcely ever felt more sensible of my own unworthiness, than in this: but I saw the honour of God was concerned; and I trusted to be preserved for a testimony of the divine power and goodness, and of the truth of Christianity.

Wednesday, September 26. After a journey to New-England, I 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. My health likewise is greatly recovered. O that I could dedicate my all to God!

Monday, October 1. I was engaged this day in making preparation for my journey to Susquahannah; and withdrew several times to plead for the divine presence to go with me to the poor Pagans. Towards night I rode about four miles, and met my brother Byram:¹ who was come, at my desire, to be my companion to the Indians. I rejoiced to see him; and God made his conversation profitable to me. I saw him, as I thought more dead to the world, its cares, and alluring objects, than I was: and this made me look within myself, and gave me a greater sense of my ingratitude, and misery.

Tuesday, October 2. I set out on my journey, in company with my dear brother Byram, and my interpreter, and two chief Indians from the Forks of Delaware. We 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, October 3. We went on our way into the wilderness, and found far the most difficult and dangerous travelling, 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 sweetness in divine things, and had my mind intensely engaged in meditation. 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 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. 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; and committing ourselves to God, 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, October 5. We arrived at Susquahannah-river, at a place called Opeholhaupung; and 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, they would consider of it; and soon after sent me word, that they would immediately attend, if I would preach; which I did with much freedom. 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: and my soul rested on God, and left it to him, to do as he pleased in his own cause.

Saturday, October 6. I 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, till Monday. “This night, the Lord stood by me,” to encourage and strengthen my soul: I spent more than an hour in secret retirement; and was enabled to “pour out my heart before God,” for the increase of grace in my soul, for ministerial endowments, and for success among the poor Indians.

Monday, October 8. I visited the Indians with a design to take my leave, supposing they would go out a hunting early; but beyond my expectation and hope, they desired to hear me preach again. I gladly complied with their request, and endeavoured to answer their objections against Christianity. Then they went away; and we spent the afternoon in reading and prayer, intending to go homeward early the next day.

Tuesday, October 9. We rose about four, and commending ourselves to God by prayer, we set out homewards about five, and travelled till past six at night. We then made us a fire, and a shelter of barks, and so rested.—In the night, the wolves howled round us; but God preserved us.

Friday, October 12. I came home to my lodging; where I poured out my soul to God, and endeavoured to bless him for his abundant goodness to me in my late journey. I scarce ever enjoyed more health; and God marvellously, supported me under the fatigues of the way, and travelling on foot. Blessed be the Lord, that preserves me in all my ways.

Lord’s-day, October 14. I was much confused and perplexed in my thoughts; and almost discouraged, thinking I should never be able to preach any more. However, I went to the place of public worship, lifting up my heart, and God was gracious to me, and helped me to plead with him for holiness, and to use strong arguments with him, drawn from the sufferings of Christ for this very end, that men might be made holy. Afterwards I was much assisted in preaching. I know not that God ever helped me to preach in a more close manner. Through the infinite goodness of God, I felt what I spake: and God enabled me to speak with uncommon clearness: and yet I was deeply sensible of my defects in preaching; blessed be the Lord for his mercy. In the evening I longed to be entirely alone, to bless God for help in extremity; and longed for greater degrees of holiness, that I might shew my gratitude to God.

*Tuesday, October 16. I felt a spirit of solemnity and watchfulness; and was afraid I should not live to and upon God: I longed for more intenseness and spirituality. In the evening I enjoyed sweet assistance in prayer, and thirsted and pleaded to be as holy as the blessed angels.

*Friday, October 19. I had an abasing sense of my own unholiness; and felt my soul melt and mourn, that I had grieved a gracious God, who was still kind to me, notwithstanding all my unworthiness. My soul enjoyed a sweet season of sorrow, that I had wronged that blessed God, who 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.

Wednesday, October 24. Near noon I 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 patience and resignation. As I returned home from the Indians, I spent the whole time in lifting up my heart to God.

In the evening I enjoyed a blessed season in prayer; was enabled to cry to God with a child-like spirit: enjoyed a sweet freedom in supplicating for myself, and for my dear friends: and longed to be as lively in God’s service as the angels.

*Friday, October 26. In the morning my soul was melted with a sense of divine goodness to such a vile 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: I longed for holiness more for this end, than for my happiness sake: and yet this was my greatest happiness, nevermore to dishonour, but always to glorify the blessed God.

Wednesday, October 31. I was sensible of my barrenness: my soul failed when I remembered the fervency I had enjoyed. 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 made 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, November 1. I felt 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, November 2. I was exercised sorely with some 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 was gained, and so let down my watch, the enemy has risen up and done me the greatest injury.

[The next day he set out on a journey to New-York, to meet the Presbytery there: and was gone from home more than a fortnight. He seemed to enter on this journey with great reluctance; fearing it would cool his religious affections. But, yet, in his journey he had special seasons of God’s gracious presence. He was greatly fatigued therein by cold and storms: and when he returned from New-York to New-Jersey, was very ill for some time.]

Wednesday, November 21. I rode from Newark to Rockciticus in the cold, and was almost overcome with it. But I enjoyed sweetness in conversation with Mr. Jones: my soul loves the people of God, and especially the ministers, who feel the same trials that I do.

*Thursday, November 22. I came on my way to Delaware river, tho’ 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, 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, but that I must lie in the woods all night. But about nine o’clock I found a house, and was kindly entertained. Thus I have frequently been exposed: but God has hitherto preserved me; blessed be his name. Such fatigues and hardships serve to wean me from the earth; and will make heaven the sweeter. Formerly, when I was thus exposed, I was ready to please myself with the thoughts of 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 appear strange to me. I do not in 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 may be reserved for me. Blessed be God, that he makes the thoughts of my journey’s-end a great comfort to me, under my sharpest trials: and scarce ever lets these thoughts be attended with terror; but frequently with great joy.

[Within the next twelve days he spent much time in hard labour, to make a little cottage, to live in by himself.]

Thursday, December 6. Having now a happy opportunity of being retired in a house of my own; 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. And now God was pleased to give me a discovery of the plague of my own heart, more affecting than I have of late had. And especially I saw my sinfulness in this, that when God had withdrawn himself, instead of living and dying in pursuit of him, I have been disposed to one of these two things, either to yield an unbecoming respect to some earthly objects, as if happiness were to be derived from them: or to be secretly froward and impatiently desirous of death. That which often drove me to this impatient desire of death, was a despair of doing any good. But now God made me sensible of my sin, and enabled me to cry to him for forgiveness. Yet this was not all I wanted: for my soul appeared exceedingly polluted; and I wanted to be purified “by the blood of sprinkling that cleanseth from all sin.” And this 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. I was enabled to persevere in prayer till the evening: I saw so much need of divine help, that I knew not how to leave off, and had forgot that I needed food.

Lord’s-day, December 9. I preached both parts of the day at a place called Greenwich, about ten miles from my own house. In the first discourse I had scarce any warmth. In the intermission season I got alone among the bushes, and cried to God being in anguish, that I could not address souls with more compassion and tender affection; which I saw I could not get 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 in the application I was enabled to address precious souls with affection, tenderness, and importunity. The Spirit of God was there; the effects were apparent, tears running down many cheeks.

Monday, December 10. I rode home, blessed God for his ♦goodness; and rejoiced, that so much of my work was done, and I so much nearer my reward.

Wednesday, December 12. I was very weak, but enabled with sweetness to cry, “Come, Lord Jesus! come quickly.” My soul “longed for God, for the living God.” O how delightful it is, to pray under such influences! How much better 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.—I visited and preached to the Indians, in the afternoon; but under much dejection. I found my interpreter under some concern for his soul; which was some comfort to me. I longed greatly for his conversion, poured out my soul to God for him; and was enabled to leave all with God.

Thursday, December 13. I spent the day in fasting and prayer, to implore the divine blessing, more especially on my poor people; in particular for my interpreter, and three or four more under some concern for their souls: but 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. The sins I had most sense of, were pride, and wandering thoughts.

Lord’s-day, December 16. I 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: I had no distressing doubt about my own state; but would have chearfully ventured into eternity. While I was going to preach to the Indians, my soul was in anguish; I despaired of doing any good. But at last I insisted on the evidence of Christianity from the miracles of Christ: and God helped me to make a close application to those that refused to believe. I was encouraged to find, that God enabled me to be faithful once more. Then I went and preached to another company of them; but was very weary and faint. In the evening I was something refreshed, and enabled to pray and praise God with composure and affection: I was now 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 I am willing to spend and be spent in his service.

Tuesday, December 18. I went to the Indians, and discoursed to them near an hour, and at last 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.” And presently most of the grown persons were much affected, and the tears ran down their cheeks: and one old man (I suppose an 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 them; and came away, lifting up my heart to God, and encouraged my interpreter to “strive to enter in at the strait gate.”

Thursday, January 5, 1744‒5. Being sensible of the great want of the out-pouring of God’s Spirit, I spent this day in fasting and prayer, to seek so great a mercy for myself, and my poor people in particular, and for the church of God in general.

Saturday, January 5. I was much disordered in my head. I was distressed with a sense of my spiritual pollution, and ten thousand youthful, yea, and childish follies: all which appeared now fresh, and in a lively view, as if committed yesterday.

Wednesday, January 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 to plead for grace for myself, and mercy for my poor Indians: and was sweetly assisted in my intercessions with God for others. Those things that of late have appeared almost impossible, were now not only possible, but easy. My soul so much delighted to continue instant in prayer, that I had no desire for my necessary food: yea, I dreaded leaving off praying, lest I should lose this spirituality, and this blessed thankfulness. 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.

Monday, January 14. I spent this day under a great degree of bodily disorder. It pains 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 is always my duty to lay in for that solemn hour. *But for a considerable time, 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 be a terror, but at present, I must say, “I long to depart, and to be with Christ.” When I am in a sweet resigned frame of soul, I am willing to tarry in a world of sorrow, I am willing to be from home as long as God sees fit; 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.

Wednesday and Thursday, January 16, 17. I spent most of the time in writing on a divine subject, and enjoyed freedom and assistance. 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.

Lord’s day, January 27. I had the greatest degree of inward anguish, that 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. This distressing gloom never went off the whole day: but was so far removed, that I was enabled to speak with some freedom to the Indians, at two of their settlements; and there was some appearance, of the presence of God with us. In the evening the gloom continued still, till at family-prayer,¹ when I was praying for the conversion of my poor people, the cloud was scattered, so that I enjoyed sweetness and freedom, and conceived hopes that God designed mercy for them.

Lord’s-day, February 3. In the morning, I was somewhat relieved of that gloom, that my mind has of late been exercised with; and was enabled to pray with composure and comfort. But, however, I went to my Indians trembling; for my soul “remembered the wormwood and the gall” 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. But God was pleased to hear my cries, and to afford me great assistance; so that I felt peace in my soul; and was satisfied, that if not one of the Indians should be profited yet I should be accepted and rewarded as faithful.

*Monday, February 11. In the evening I was in a most solemn frame: 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. And yet I felt exceedingly comfortable; my mind was composed and calm, and death appeared without a sting. I never felt such an universal mortification to all created objects. Oh, how great and solemn a thing it appeared to die! How it lays the greatest honour in the dust! And how vain and trifling did the riches, honours, and pleasures of the world appear! I could not so much as think of any of them; for death, death, solemn (though not frightful) death appeared at the door. I could see myself laid out, and inclosed in my coffin, and put down into the cold grave, without terror! I spent the evening in conversing with a Christian friend; and 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 that 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.”

Friday, February 15. I had a sweet sense of the free grace of the gospel: my soul was encouraged, warmed, and quickened, and my desires drawn out after God in prayer: being afraid of losing so sweet a guest as I then entertained. 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!

Lord’s day, February 17. I preached to the white people in the wilderness, upon the sunny side of a hill: I had a considerable assembly, consisting of people that lived (many of them) thirty miles asunder. I discoursed to them, from John vii. 37. “Jesus stood and cried, saying, If any man thirst,” &c. In the afternoon it pleased God to grant me great fervency; I was enabled to imitate the example of Christ, who stood and cried.—I was scarce ever enabled to offer the free grace of God to perishing sinners with more freedom and plainness. O that I could for ever bless God for the mercy of this day, who, “answered me in the joy of my heart.”

Lord’s-day, February 24. My interpreter being absent, I knew not how to perform my work among the Indians. However, I rode to the Indians, and got a Dutchman to interpret, though he was but poorly qualified. Afterwards I preached to a few white people from John vi. 67. O the free grace of Christ, that he seasonably minds his people of their danger of backsliding, and invites them to persevere in their adherence to himself! I saw that backsliding souls might return, and welcome, to him immediately; without any thing to recommend them; notwithstanding all their former backslidings. And I felt solemn, devout, and sweet, resting on him for assistance, acceptance, and peace of conscience.

*Wednesday, March 6. I spent most of the day in preparing for a journey to New-England, and in prayer, with a reference to my journey. I was afraid I should forsake the fountain of living waters, and attempt to derive satisfaction from broken cisterns, my dear friends and acquaintance. I looked to God to keep me from this vanity in special, as well as others. Towards night, I was visited by some friends, 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.¹ O how kind has God been to me! How has he raised up friends in every place, where his providence has called me!

[The next day, he set out on his journey; and it was above five weeks before he returned.—The special design of this journey was “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.” He first went into various parts of New-Jersey, then to New-York; and from thence into New-England. He then returned into New-Jersey. 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.]

Saturday, April 13. I rode home to my own house. Blessed be the Lord, who has preserved me in this tedious journey. Verily it is God that has upheld me, and guarded my goings.

[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 Susquahannah, and instruct the Indians that are within their territories.]¹

Lord’s-day, April 21. In the season of the communion, I had comfortable apprehensions of the blissful communion of God’s people, when they shall meet at their Father’s table in his kingdom.—In the afternoon I preached abroad, from Revelation xiv. 4. “These are they that follow the Lamb,” &c. God was pleased to give me 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.

Tuesday, April 23. I 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.

Friday, April 26. I felt a spirit of mortification to the world, in a very great degree. Afterwards I was enabled to rely on God sweetly, for “all things pertaining to life and godliness.” Just in the evening, I 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 about fifteen miles distant: where he spent the sabbath. On Monday, he returned very weak, to his own lodgings.]

Tuesday, April 30. I was scarce able to walk about, and was obliged to lie on the bed, much of the day; being neither able to read, meditate, nor pray, and having none to converse with in that wilderness. Oh, how heavily does time pass away, when I can do nothing to any good purpose?

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 Psalms xvii. 15. “I shall be satisfied, when I awake with thy likeness.” I longed to preach to the whole world; and it seemed to me, they must needs all be melted in hearing such precious truths, as I had then a view of.—Blessed be the Lord, that in my present weakness, my mind is not gloomy, as at some other times.

Tuesday, May 7. I spent the day chiefly in making preparation for a journey into the wilderness. I was still weak, and concerned how I should perform it. I spent some time in prayer for the divine blessing; but wanted bodily strength to spend the day in fasting and prayer.

[The next day, he set out on his journey to Susquahannah, with his interpreter. He endured great hardships 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 ready to perish. Having no shelter, and not being able to make a fire in so great a rain, he could have no comfort if he stopt; therefore determined to go forward in hopes of meeting with some shelter, without which he thought it impossible he should live the night through. But their horses happening to have eat poisonous plants 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 before them, until through the mercy of God (just at dusk) they came to a bark-hut, where they lodged that night. After he came to Susquahannah, he travelled about an hundred miles on the river, visited many towns and settlements of the Indians; and preached to different nations, by different interpreters. He was sometimes much discouraged, through the opposition that appeared in the Indians to Christianity. At other times, he was encouraged by the disposition, that some of them manifested to hear, and to be instructed. He here met with some that had formerly been his hearers at Kaunaumeek, who saw and heard him again with great joy. He spent a fortnight among the Indians; passed through considerable hardships, frequently lodging on the ground, and sometimes in the open air; and at length fell extremely ill, as he was riding in the wilderness, being seized with an ague, followed with extreme pains in his head and bowels, and a great evacuation of blood; so that he thought he must have perished. But at last coming to an Indian trader’s hut, he got leave to stay there: and though without physic or proper food, it pleased God, after about a week, to relieve him so far that he was able to ride. He returned homewards from Juneauta, 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. He came home in a very weak state. However, on the sabbath, after having preached to the Indians, he preached to the white people, with success, from Isaiah liii. 10. “Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise him,” &c. some being awakened by his preaching.]

Wednesday, June 5. I felt thirsting desires after God, and enjoyed a precious season of retirement: divine things opened with clearness and certainty, and had a divine stamp upon them: my soul was also enlarged and refreshed in prayer; I delighted to continue in the duty: and was sweetly assisted in praying for my fellow Christians, and my dear brethren in the ministry. O what a blessedness it is, to be as much like God, as it is possible to be! Lord, give me more of thy likeness; “I shall be satisfied, when I awake with it.”

[Friday, June 7. He went a journey of near fifty miles to Neshaminy, to assist at a sacramental occasion.]

Saturday, June 8. I was exceeding weak and fatigued with riding in the heat yesterday; but being desired, I preached in the afternoon, to a crouded audience, from Isaiah xl. 1. “Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God.” God was pleased to give me great freedom. And, blessed be the Lord, it was a sweet melting season in the assembly.

Lord’s day, June 9. I discoursed with reference to that sacred passage, Isaiah liii. 10. “Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise him.” *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.

Tuesday, June 11. I spent the day mainly in conversation with Christian friends; and enjoyed a sweet sense of divine things. O how desirable it is, to keep company with God’s 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.

Tuesday, June 18. I set out from New-Brunswick with a design to visit some Indians at a place called Crosweeksung in New-Jersey, towards the sea.¹ In the afternoon I came to Cranberry, and meeting with a serious minister, lodged with him.

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PART VII.

From his first beginning to preach to the Indians at Crosweeksung, till he returned from his last journey to Susquahannah.

[WE are now come to that part of Mr. Brainerd’s life, wherein he had his greatest success. After all his agonizing in prayer, and travelling in birth, for the conversion of the Indians; 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, and in a place, that scarce ever entered into his heart. An account of this is here inserted, as it was drawn up by Mr. Brainerd himself, pursuant to the order of the honourable society in Scotland.]

Wednesday, June 19. Having spent most of my time for more than a year past among the Indians in the Forks of Delaware in Pensylvania; and having in that time made two journeys to Susquahannah river, far back in that province, in order to treat with the Indians there, respecting Christianity; and not having had any considerable success in either of those places; upon hearing that there was a number of Indians in a place called (by the Indians) Crosweeksung 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 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 who appeared well-disposed, and, not inclined to 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.

Thursday, June 20. Towards night, I preached to the Indians again; and had more hearers than before. In the evening, I enjoyed peace and serenity of mind, composure and comfort in prayer; and was enabled to lift up my head with 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. I was refreshed in secret prayer; but saw myself a poor worthless creature, without wisdom to direct, or strength to help myself. Blessed be God, that lays me under a happy necessity of living upon himself!

Saturday, June 22. About noon, I rode to the Indians again; and near night preached to about thirty of them. I 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. While riding, before I came to the Indians, I was enabled to cry to God almost incessantly. 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 kingdom of Christ; and yet death appeared pleasant: so that, I was in a strait between two. I am often weary of this world; but it is desirable to be drawn, rather than driven out of it.

Lord’s day, June 23. I 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, although in times past they had been quite opposite to any thing of that nature.

June 24. I 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 very weak, and my spirits much exhausted. They attended with the greatest seriousness and diligence; and there was some concern apparent among them.

June 27. I visited and preached to the Indians again. Their number now amounted to about forty persons. Their solemn attention still continued; and a considerable concern for their souls was apparent among sundry of them.

Friday June 28. The Indians being now gathered, a considerable number of them, from their several distant habitations, requested me to preach twice a day to them, being desirous to hear as much as they could while I was with them. I chearfully complied, and could not but admire the goodness of God, who had inclined them to enquire after the way of salvation.

Saturday, June 29. I 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.

I likewise saw the hand of God making provision for their subsistence together, in order to their being instructed. 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, they could not have subsisted together in order to attend the means of grace.

Lord’s-day, June 30. I preached twice this day also, and observed more concern and affection among the poor Heathens than ever; so that they even constrained me to tarry longer with them; although my constitution was much impaired by the late fatigues and labours, and especially by my late journey to Susquahannah.

July 1. I preached again twice to a very serious and attentive assembly, who had now learned to attend the worship of God with Christian decency.

There were now between forty and fifty persons of them present, old and young.

I spent some time in discoursing with them in private, enquiring what they remembered of the great truths that had been taught them. It was amazing to see how they had retained the instructions given them, and what knowledge some of them had acquired in a few days.

July 2. I was obliged to leave these Indians at Crosweeksung, thinking it my duty, as soon as health would admit, to visit those at the Forks of Delaware. When I came to take leave of them, they all earnestly enquired when I would come again, and expressed a great desire of being farther 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 other Indians in these parts that were farther 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. I then promised them to return as speedily as my health and business would admit, and felt not a little concerned at parting, least good impressions might wear off.

Afterwards I rode to Brunswick, near forty miles, and lodged there. I felt my heart drawn out after God in prayer almost all the afternoon: and in the evening could not help crying to God for these poor Indians; and after I went to bed, my heart continued to go out to God for them, till I dropped asleep.

[He was now so beat out by constant preaching, that he found it necessary to give himself some relaxation. He spent therefore about a week in New-Jersey, visiting several ministers, and performing some necessary business. On Friday, July 12. He arrived at his own house in the Forks of Delaware; continuing still free from melancholy and from day to day enjoying freedom and refreshment.]

Lord’s-day, July 14. I discoursed to the Indians twice, several of whom appeared convinced of their sin and misery; so that they wept much the whole time of divine service.

Thursday, July 18. I longed to spend the little inch of time I have in the world for God: Felt a spirit of seriousness, tenderness, and devotion, and wished to spend the whole night in prayer and communion with God.

Friday, July 19. In the evening I walked abroad for prayer and meditation, and enjoyed composure and freedom especially, in meditation on Revelation iii. 12. “Him that overcometh, will I make a pillar in the temple of my God.” Oh, when shall I go no more out from the service and enjoyment of the dear Lord! Lord, hasten the blessed day.

Lord’s-day, July 21. I preached to the Indians first, then to a number of white people, and in the afternoon to the Indians again.—Divine truths seemed to make very considerable impressions upon several of them and caused tears to flow freely.

Afterwards I baptized my interpreter and his wife, 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 and brought to a sense of their misery and undoneness; and have both been comforted with divine consolations.

It may perhaps be satisfactory that I should give some relation of his experience since he has been with me.

When I first employed him in the beginning of summer 1744, he was well fitted for his work in regard of his acquaintance with the Indian and English language; and in regard of his desire that the Indians should conform to the customs and manners of the English. But he seemed to have no impression of religion, and in that respect was very unfit for his work, being uncapable 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 acquaintance with divine truths; and, at times I was much discouraged, when I observed that divine truths made little or no impression upon him for many weeks together.

He indeed behaved soberly, (although before he had been a hard drinker) and seemed honestly engaged as far he was capable in the performance of his work, and especially he was very desirous that the Indians should conform to the customs of the Christian world. But still seemed to have no concern about his own soul.

Near the latter end of July 1744, I preached to an assembly of white people, with freedom and fervency: at which time he was present, and was somewhat awakened; so that the next day he discoursed freely with me and gave me an opportunity to fasten the impressions upon his mind: and I could plainly perceive after this, that he addressed the Indians with more concern and fervency.

But these impressions seemed to decline, till in the fall of the year following he fell into a weak state of body. At this season divine truth took hold of him and made deep impressions upon his mind. He was under great concern for his soul, and was burdened from day to day. At length his sleep departed from him, and he had little rest day or night; but walked about under great pressure of mind, and appeared like another man to his neighbours who could not but observe his behaviour with wonder.

After he had been sometime striving for mercy, he says, there seemed to be an impassable mountain before him. He was pressing towards heaven, but “his way was hedged up with thorns, that he could not stir an inch farther.” He looked this way and that way, but could find no way at all. He felt it signified just nothing at all to strive and struggle any more. And here he says, he gave over striving, and felt that it was a gone case with him, and that all his attempts were, and for ever would be vain and fruitless.

He knew, he said, he was not guilty of such actions as others were guilty of. He had not been used to steal, quarrel, and murder; which is common among the Indians. He likewise knew that he had done many things that were right. But still his cry was, “that he had never done one good thing,” (meaning that he had never done any thing from a right principle, though he had done many things that were materially good.) 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, still I should do nothing but what is bad.

There was one thing more in his view of things that was very remarkable. He not only saw, what a miserable state he himself was in, but he saw the world around him were in the same perishing circumstances. 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, had no more goodness than he, and yet dreamed that they were safe enough, as he had formerly done.

*After he had been some time in this condition, sensible of the impossibility of helping himself; he says, it was borne in upon his mind as if it had been audibly spoken, “There is hope, there is hope.” Whereupon his soul seemed to be in some measure satisfied, though he had no considerable joy; neither can he remember distinctly any views he had of Christ, or give any clear account of his acceptance through him.

But this was followed by a great change, so that it might justly be said, he was become another man. Even the 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 unblemished to this day, though it is now more than six months since he experienced it; in which space he has been as much exposed to strong drink, as possible, in divers places; and yet has never discovered any desire after it.

*And upon strict observation of his Christian temper, and unblemished behaviour for so considerable a time, I think I have reason to hope that he is “created anew in Christ Jesus to good works.”

His name is Moses Tinda Tautamy; he is about fifty years of age, and pretty well acquainted with the notions and customs of his countrymen, and so is the better able to expose them. He has already been, and I trust will yet be a blessing to other Indians.

Friday, July 26. In the evening, God was pleased to help me in prayer, beyond what I have experienced for some time; especially for the conversion of my poor people: 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! 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. My soul longed for the ingathering of the poor Heathen; and I cried to God for them most willingly and heartily. This was a sweet season; I had a lively taste of heaven, and a temper suited in some measure to the entertainment of it. My soul was grieved to leave the place; but my body was weak and worn out. 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’s-day, July 28. I preached again, and perceived my people more thoughtful than ever. I was told by some, that seeing my interpreter and his wife baptized made them more concerned than any thing they had ever seen or heard. There was indeed a considerable appearance of divine power among them at the time.

July 30. I discoursed to a number of my people, and gave them particular advice, being about to leave them for the present, in order to visit the Indians in New-Jersey. They were very attentive, and earnestly desirous to know when I designed to return.

[On Wednesday, July 31. He set out on his return to Crosweeksung, and arrived there the next day. In his way he had longing desires that he might come to the Indians in the “fulness of the blessing of the gospel of Christ;” attended with a sense of his own great weakness, dependence and worthlessness.]

Friday, August 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 to gather together, that I might preach to them the next day. I was much enlarged in praying for their conversion; and scarce ever found my desires of it so sensibly and clearly free from selfish views. I had no desire to be the instrument of so glorious a work; if it might be accomplished to the honour of God, this was all my care; and for this I hoped, but with trembling. My rising hopes, have been so often dashed, that my spirit is broken, and I hardly dare hope.

Saturday, August 3. 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 been much promoted by the labours of Mr. William Tennent, to whom I advised them to apply, and whose house they had frequented much.—I preached to them this day on Revelation xxii. 17. “And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely.”

The Lord enabled me 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 appeared 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.) and not above two that I could see with dry eyes. Some discovered vehement longings after Christ, to save them from the misery they felt and feared.

Lord’s-day, August 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; 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.

Now a change in their manners began to appear. 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.

August 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 my discourse I 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, who had been little affected before: others had their concern increased to a considerable degree. In the evening I discoursed to them, and found them universally engaged, 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, that had been much concerned ever since she heard me preach in June, who obtained comfort, I trust solid and well grounded: she seemed to be filled with love to Christ, at the same time she behaved humbly and tenderly, and appeared afraid of nothing so much as of grieving him whom her soul loved.

August 6. In the morning I discoursed to the Indians at the house where we lodged: many of them were then much affected, so that a few words about their souls would cause the tears to flow freely, and produce many sobs and groans.――

*In the afternoon, they being returned to the place where I have usually preached among 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, till near the close of my discourse; and then divine truths were attended with a surprising influence. 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 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.

It was surprising to see how their hearts were pierced with the tender invitations of the gospel, when there was not a word of terror spoken to them.

*There were this day two persons that obtained comfort, which appeared solid, rational, and scriptural. After I had enquired into the grounds of their comfort, I asked what they wanted God to do further for them? They replied, “They wanted Christ should wipe their hearts quite clean.”

*August 7. I preached to the Indians from Isaiah liii. 3‒10. There was a remarkable influence attending the word. Most were much affected, and many in great distress; and some 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.

After public service 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, so that here were now six in all that had got some relief from their spiritual distresses, and five whose experience appeared clear and satisfactory.

August 8. In the afternoon I preached to the Indians, their number was now about sixty-five persons, men, women, and children. I discoursed from Luke xiv. 16‒23, and was favoured with uncommon freedom.

There was much concern among them while I was discoursing publicly; but afterwards when I spoke to one and another more particularly, 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 a mighty torrent, that bears down and sweeps before it whatever is in its way. Almost all persons of all ages were bowed down 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 were not merely frighted with seeing the general concern; but were made sensible of their danger, the badness of their hearts, and their misery without Christ. The most stubborn hearts were now obliged to bow. A principal man among the Indians, who before thought his state good, because he knew more than the generality of the Indians, and who with great 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 considerable in years, who had been a murderer, a powwow, 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 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 for himself, that none seemed to take any notice of those about them, but each prayed for themselves; and were, to their own apprehension, as much retired as if every one had been by himself in a desert, or, rather, they thought nothing about any but themselves, and so were every one praying apart, although all together.

It seemed to me there was now an exact fulfilment of that prophecy, Zechariah 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 Joshua x. 14. for I must say, I never saw any day like it in all respects; it was a day wherein the Lord did much destroy the kingdom of darkness among this people.

This concern was most rational and just; those who had been awakened any considerable time, complained especially of the badness of their hearts; those newly awakened, of the badness of their lives and actions; 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 appeared to be wounded with a view of their perishing state.

Those who lately obtained relief, were filled with comfort; they appeared calm and rejoiced 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 invited them to come and give up their hearts to him. And I could observe some of them, in the most unaffected manner, 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 this day, that I cannot but take particular notice of. A young Indian woman, who, I believe, never knew before she had a soul, hearing that there was something strange among the Indians, came (it seems) to see what was the matter. I had not proceeded far in my discourse, before she felt effectually that she had a soul: and before I had concluded, was so convinced of her sin and misery, and so distressed with concern for her soul, 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 hear 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.

August 9. I spent almost the whole day with the Indians, the former part of it in discoursing with them privately, especially some who 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 I discoursed to them publickly. There were now present about seventy persons. I opened and applied the parable of the sower, and was enabled to discourse with much plainness. There were many tears among them while I was discoursing, but no considerable cry: yet some were much affected with a few words spoken from Matthew xi. 28. with which I concluded. But while I was discoursing near night to two or three of the awakened persons, a divine influence seemed to attend what was spoken, 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 of Christ’s merits, and his willingness to save all that came to him.

*The cry of these was 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 the concern in general appeared near as prevalent as 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 yelling in their idolatrous feasts, now crying to God with such importunity, for an interest in his dear Son!

I found two or three who I 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.

August 10. I began to discourse privately with those who had obtained comfort: 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.

When I had spent some time with these, I turned to the other Indians, and spoke to them from Luke xix. 10. 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, and could find no way of escape, this melted them down the more, and aggravated their distress, that they could not come to so kind a Saviour.

Sundry persons, who before had been but slightly awakened, were now deeply wounded. 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 to the heart, and 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.”

I found one that had newly received comfort, after pressing distress. I could not but admire the divine goodness. There seems to be some good done by every discourse, some newly awakened every day, and some comforted.

Lord’s-day, August 11. I discoursed upon 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 to be attended with power both to the English and Indians. Several of the white Heathen were awakened, and could no longer be idle spectators, but found they had souls to save 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.

The number of the Indians, old and young, was now upwards of seventy, and one or two were newly awakened this day, who never appeared to be moved before.

Those that had obtained comfort, and had given evidences, of a saving change, appeared humble and devout, and behaved in an agreeable and Christian manner. I was refreshed to see the tenderness of conscience manifest in some of them. *Perceiving one of them very sorrowful in the morning, I enquired into the cause of her sorrow, and found she had been angry with her child the evening before, and was in fear lest her anger had been inordinate, which so grieved her, that she waked and began to sob before daylight, and continued weeping for several hours together.

August 14. I 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 earnestly desirous to know what God would have him do. When the law of God respecting marriage had been opened to them, and the cause of his leaving his wife enquired 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, 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; with which he chearfully complied, and thereupon publicly renounced the woman he had last taken, and publicly promised to live with his wife during life.――And here appeared a clear demonstration of the power of God’s word upon their hearts. A few weeks before the whole world could not have persuaded him to a compliance with Christian rules in this affair.

August 15. I preached from Luke iv. 16‒21. 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 were deeply wounded. There were some newly awakened, and convictions seemed to be promoted in others.—Those that had received comfort, were likewise refreshed and strengthened, and the work of grace appeared to advance in all respects.

August 16. I spent a considerable time in conversing privately with sundry of the Indians. I found one that had comfort, after pressing concern, and could not but hope, when I discoursed with her, that her comfort was of the right kind.

In the afternoon 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 the distressed persons.

There was a great concern for their souls spread generally among them: but especially there were two persons newly awakened, one of whom was lately come, and the other had all along been very attentive, but could never before have any lively view of her perishing state. But now her spiritual distress was such, that 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 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.

August 17. I spent much time in private conferences with the Indians. I found one who had newly obtained comfort, after a long season of spiritual distress, (he was one of my hearers in the Forks of Delaware for more than a year, and now followed me hither under deep concern) and I had abundant reason to hope that his comfort was well grounded.

Friday, August 23. I spent some time with the Indians in private discourse; and afterwards preached. Several appeared deeply concerned for their souls, and could not but express their inward anguish by tears and cries. But the amazing influence that has been so powerfully among them, seems, at present in some degree abated.

August 24. I 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.

Afterwards I discoursed publicly from 1 Thessalonians iv. 13‒17. There was a solemn attention, and visible concern 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.”

There were several Indians newly come, who thought their state good, because they had lived with the white people, although they were altogether unacquainted with the power of religion.

With those I discoursed particularly after public worship, and was surprized to see their self-righteous disposition, and the high value they put upon their supposed attainments. Yet after much discourse, one appeared convinced, that “by the deeds of the law no flesh living should be justified,” and wept bitterly, inquiring, “what he must do to be saved?”

Lord’s-day, August 25. I 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: 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.

Afterwards I baptized twenty-five persons of the Indians, fifteen adults, and ten children. Most of the adults I have reason to hope are renewed persons: only the case of two or three appeared more doubtful.

After the croud of spectators was gone, I called the baptized persons together, and discoursed to them in particular, minded them of the solemn obligations they were now under to live to God, and encouraged them to watchfulness and devotion, by setting before them the comfort and happy conclusion of a religious life.—This was a sweet season! Their hearts were engaged and chearful 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 towards 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 comfort that these discovered by their countenances as well as conduct.

Monday, August 26. I preached 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.” I opened to them the nature of those consolations Christ gives his people, shewed them that such have already the “beginnings of eternal life,” (verse 54.) and that their heaven shall be speedily completed.

I no sooner begun to discourse, but the 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 comfort and sweetness; so that this was a tender, affectionate, humble, delightful, melting, and appeared to be the genuine effect of the spirit of adoption. The influence spread from these through the whole assembly, and there quickly appeared a wonderful concern among them. Many who had not yet found Christ, were surprisingly engaged in seeking him. Their number was now about ninety-five persons, and almost all affected either with joy in Christ, or with the utmost concern to obtain an interest in him.

Being convinced it was now my duty to take a journey to the Indians on Susquahannah river, after having spent some hours in public and private discourses with my people, I told them that I must 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, as they themselves had had an opportunity to see: and asked them if they would not spend the remainder of the day in prayer for me, that God would go with me, and succeed my endeavours. *They chearfully complied, and soon after I left them (the sun being then about an hour and half high) they began and continued praying all night till break of day, never mistrusting (they told me) till they went and saw the morning star a considerable height, that it was later than common bed time.

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 an attempt of mine in the affair, so that it was nothing but 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 carried on a work of grace among these Indians. May the glory be ascribed to him, who is the sole author of it!

[The next day he set out on a journey towards the forks of Delaware, designing to go from thence to Susquahannah, before he returned to Crosweeksung. It was five days from his departure from Crosweeksung, before he reached the forks, going round by the way of Philadelphia, and waiting on the governor of Pensylvania, to get a recommendation from him to the chiefs of the Indians.]

Forks of Delaware.

Lord’s-day, September 1. I preached to the Indians here, from Luke xiv. 16‒23.

Afterwards I preached to a number of white people, and observed many of them in tears, and some who had been formerly as careless and unconcerned about religion as the Indians.

Towards night I discoursed to the Indians again and perceived a greater attention, and more visible concern among them, than has been usual in these parts.

September 3. I preached to the Indians from Isaiah liii. 3‒6. The divine presence seemed to be in the midst of the assembly, and a considerable concern spread among them. Sundry persons seemed to be awakened, among whom were two stupid creatures, that I could scarce ever before ♦keep awake while I was discoursing to them.

Wednesday, September 4. I rode 15 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 the 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.

September 5. I discoursed to the Indians from the parable of the sower, and afterwards conversed particularly with sundry persons, which occasioned them to weep, and even to cry out in an affecting manner, and seized others with surprise and concern. Several of these had been with me to Crosweeksung, and some of them felt the power of God’s word. I asked one of them why he cried? He replied, “When he thought how Christ was slain like a lamb and spilt his blood for sinners, he could not help crying:” and thereupon burst into tears and cries again. I then asked his wife, who likewise had 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 Crosweeksung.” I asked her if she found a heart to pray for them, and whether Christ had been 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 sometimes 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.”

Lord’s-day, September 8. I discoursed to the Indians, forenoon and afternoon. The word of God 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 awakened, who never before discovered any concern for his soul. There appeared a remarkable work of the Spirit, not unlike what had been at Crosweeksung. It seemed as if the divine influence had spread from thence to this place.

Sundry of the careless white people now present were startled seeing the power of God so prevalent among the Indians. I then made a particular address to them, which seemed to make some impression upon them.

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, particularly among my dear people: and for many dear ministers of my acquaintance, both in these parts and in New-England. And my soul was so engaged in that sweet exercise, that I knew not how to leave the mercy seat. I saw God was both able and willing to do all that I desired. And when I was going to bed, God helped me to renew my petitions with ardency and freedom.

Monday, September 9. I left the Forks of Delaware, and set out for Susquahannah-river, directing my course towards the Indian-town more than an hundred and twenty miles westward from the Forks.

September 13. After having lodged out three nights ♦I came to the Indian-town on Susquahannah called Shaumoking, (one of the places I visited in May last,) and was kindly received by the Indians; but had little satisfaction by reason of the heathenish dance they held in the house where I was obliged to lodge, which I could not suppress, though I often intreated them to desist, for the sake of one who was sick in the house.

This town 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 near three hundred persons: but of three different tribes, speaking three languages wholly unintelligible to each other. About one half of its inhabitants are Delawares, the others called Senakas, 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.

Saturday, September 14. I visited the Delaware king, (who was supposed to be at the point of death when I was here in May, but was now recovered,) discoursed with him and others respecting Christianity, and had more encouragement than I expected. The king appeared willing to be instructed; this gave me some hope, that God would open an effectual door for my preaching the gospel here. This was a refreshment to me in the wilderness, and rendered my solitary circumstances comfortable.

*In the evening my soul was enlarged in prayer; especially, that God would set up his kingdom in this place. 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 ever-blessed name!”

Lord’s-day, September 15. I visited the chief of the Delawares again; and discoursed to the Indians in the afternoon. I still hoped that God would open their hearts to receive the gospel, though many of them were so drunk from day to day, that I could get no opportunity to speak to them.

September 16. I spent the forenoon with the Indians, endeavouring to instruct them from house to house, and to engage them, to be friendly to Christianity.

Towards night I went to a part of the town where they were sober, and got together near fifty persons of them.—There was a surprising attention among them, and they manifested a desire of being further instructed. There was also one or two that seemed to be touched, and appeared pleased with some conversation in private, after I had concluded my public discourse.

My spirits were much refreshed, and I could 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, and found uncommon freedom in addressing the throne of grace for the accomplishment of so glorious a work.

September 17. I spent the forenoon in discoursing to the Indians. About noon I left Shaumoking, (most of the Indians going out this day to hunt,) and travelled down the river south-westward.

September 19. I visited an Indian town called Juneauta, situate on an island in Susquahannah. I was much discouraged with the behaviour of the Indians here. Although they appeared friendly when I was with them last spring; yet they now seemed resolved to retain their Pagan notions, and persist in their idolatrous practices.

September 20. I visited the Indians again at Juneauta island, and found them busy in making preparations for a great sacrifice and dance. So I had no opportunity to get them together in order to discourse about Christianity. My spirits were much sunk, especially seeing I had now no interpreter but a Pagan, who was as much attached to idolatry as any of them. However, I discoursed privately with some of them, but without any appearance of success.

In the evening they met together, near an hundred of them, and danced round a large fire, having prepared ten fat deer for the sacrifice. The fat of the inwards they burnt in the fire while they were dancing, and sometimes raised the flame to a prodigious height, at the same time yelling and shouting in such a manner, that they might have been heard two miles or more.

They continued their sacred dance all night; after which they eat the flesh of the sacrifice, and retired each to his lodging.

I enjoyed little satisfaction this night, being entirely alone on the island, (as to any Christian company,) and having walked to and fro’ till body and mind were much oppressed, I at length crept into a little crib made for corn, and there slept on the poles.

*Lord’s-day, September 21. I spent the day with the Indians on the island. As soon as they were up, I attempted to instruct them, and laboured to get them together, but quickly found they had something else to do; for they gathered together all their powwows, (or conjurers,) and set about half a dozen of them to playing their tricks, and acting their frantic postures, in order to find out why they were so sickly, numbers of them being at that time disordered with a fever, and bloody flux. In this they were engaged for several hours, making all the wild distracted motions imaginable: sometimes singing; sometimes howling; sometimes extending their hands to the utmost stretch, spreading all their fingers, and seemed to push with them, as if they designed to fright something away, or at least keep it off at arms-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, or puffing.

*Their monstrous actions seemed to have something in them peculiarly suited to raise the devil, if he could be raised by any thing odd and frightful. Some of them were much more fervent in the business than others, and seemed to chant, peep, and mutter with a great degree of warmth and vigour. I sat about 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. They continued their hideous charms for more than three hours, until they had all wearied themselves out, although they had taken sundry intervals of rest: and at length broke up, I apprehended, without receiving any answer.

After they had done powwowing, I attempted to discourse with them about Christianity; but they soon scattered, and gave no opportunity. A view of these things, while I was destitute of the society of any one that so much as “named the name of Christ,” greatly sunk my spirits, so that I had no heart nor power to make any further attempts among them.

The Indians of this island many of them understand English, having formerly lived in Maryland 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 method of charming over the sick, seems somewhat different from that of other Indians: and the whole of it 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 of them, “and calling upon their gods,” excepting the spurting of water, and some other frantic ceremonies common to the other conjurations.

*When I was in these parts in May last, I had an opportunity of learning many of the customs of the Indians: I then travelling more than an hundred and thirty miles upon the river above the English settlements; and had in that journey a view of persons of seven or eight distinct tribes, speaking so many different languages. But of all the sights I ever saw among them, none appeared so near a-kin to what is usually imagined of infernal powers, 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 bear 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 some corn in it, and the neck of it drawn on 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, that he could have been a human creature. When he came near me, I could not but shrink away from him, although it was then noon day, and I knew who it was. 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.—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. 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 some where, 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 ago: 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 shewed 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, 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.” And some of his sentiments seemed very just. Yet he utterly denied the being of a devil, and declared there was no such creature known among the Indians of old times. 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, which was more than I ever saw in any other Pagan; and I perceived he was derided among most of the Indians as a precise zealot. I must say, there was something in his temper that looked more like true religion than any thing I ever observed among other Heathens.

September 22. I made some further attempts to instruct 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 unspeakably ♦difficult to treat with them about Christianity.

[On Monday, September 23. He left the Indians, in order to his 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.]

Thursday, September 26. I was still much disordered in body, and able to ride but slowly, I continued my journey however. Near night I arrived at the Irish settlement, about fifteen miles from mine own house. This day 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 than I: I could not think that any of God’s children made so poor a hand of living to God as I.

Forks of Delaware.

October 1. I discoursed to the Indians here, and afterwards invited them to follow me to Crosweeksung as soon as their conveniency would admit; which invitation sundry of them chearfully accepted.

Saturday, October 5. I preached at Crosweeksung, from John xiv. 1‒6. The divine presence seemed to be in the assembly. Numbers were affected, and some comforted.

O what a difference is there between these and the Indians upon Susquahannah! 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 presence! How great is the change made upon these Indians, who not many months ago were as averse to Christianity, as those upon Susquahannah!

Lord’s-day, October 6. I preached in the forenoon from John x. 7‒11. There was a considerable melting among my people; the young Christians were comforted and strengthened, and one or two persons newly awakened.

In the afternoon I discoursed on the story of the jailor, Acts xvi. and in the evening expounded Acts xx. 1‒12. There was at this time a melting through the whole assembly. There was scarce a dry eye to be seen among them, and nothing but what tended to excite a Christian ardour and spirit of devotion.

After public service I withdrew, and the Indians continued praying among themselves for near two hours together; which exercises appeared to be attended with a blessed 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. 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 worshipping the “Father in spirit and in truth,” was not a little affecting; and especially to see them so tender and humble, as well as lively, fervent, and devout.

Monday, October 7. Being called by the church of East-Hampton on Long-Island, as a member of a council, to advise in affairs of difficulty in that church, I set out this morning, before it was well light, and travelled to Elisabeth-Town.

[He prosecuted his journey with the other ministers that were sent for: and did not return till October 24.]

October 24. I discoursed from John iv. 13‒14. There was a great attention, and an unaffected melting in the assembly.—It is surprising to see how eager they are to hear the word of God. I have often thought they would chearfully attend divine worship twenty-four hours together.

October 25. I discoursed to my people on the resurrection, from Luke xx. 27‒36. And when I came to mention the blessedness the good shall enjoy at that season; their final freedom from death, and sorrow; their equality to the angels in regard of their nearness to, and enjoyment of Christ; 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.

October 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 embraced the opportunity chearfully, and attended the discourses of that solemnity with diligence and affection, most of them now understanding something of the English language.

Lord’s-day, October 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 though much against her will) was seized with a 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 have 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 an opportunity to converse with) seemed refreshed with seeing the Indians worship God in that devout and solemn manner, and could not but “glorify God, saying, Then hath God also to the Gentiles granted repentance unto life.”

*October 28. I discoursed from Matthew xxii. 1‒13. I was enabled to adapt my discourse 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, with as much freedom, as if I had been addressing a common audience, who had been instructed in Christianity all their days.

*The word of God at this time seemed to fall upon the assembly with a divine power, especially toward the close of my discourse: there was both a sweet melting, and bitter mourning in the audience.—The 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 gate of heaven.” All that had any relish of divine things were even constrained to say, “Lord, it is good for us to be here!” If ever there was among my people an appearance of the New Jerusalem—“as a bride adorned for her husband,” there was at this time. And so agreeable was the entertainment, that I could scarce tell how to leave the place.

Lord’s-day, ♦November 3. I baptized fourteen 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 home to himself: two of the others were men of fifty years old, who had been singular even among the Indians for their wickedness; one of them had been a murderer, and both notorious drunkards, as well as excessive quarrelsome; but now I cannot but hope both are really changed. I deferred their baptism for many weeks, that I might have more opportunities to observe the fruits of those impressions they had been under. Indeed there ♠was not but one of the adults but had given me grounds to hope, that God had wrought a good work in their hearts.

November 4. There were sundry of the persons lately come from remote places, that were now brought under deep concern for their souls; particularly one, who not long since came half drunk, and railed on us, and attempted to disturb us while engaged in divine worship, was so distressed, that she seemed unable to get any ease without an interest in Christ. There were many tears and affectionate groans in the assembly in general, some weeping for themselves, others for their friends. And though persons are doubtless much more easily 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, their affection in general appeared genuine and unfeigned; and especially in those newly awakened.

I baptized a child this day, and perceived several of the baptized persons, affected, as being thereby minded of their own solemn engagements.

I have now baptized in all forty-seven persons of the Indians, twenty adults, and twenty-four children; thirty-five of them belonging to these parts, and the rest to the Forks of Delaware; and they have none of them yet been a disgrace to their profession.

Before I proceed, I would make a few remarks.

And 1st, It is remarkable that God began this work among the Indians at a time when I had the least prospect of seeing a work of grace among them. My bodily strength being then much wasted by a tedious journey to Susquahannah, my mind exceedingly depressed with a view of the unsuccessfulness of my labours, I had little to hope that God would make me instrumental of the saving conversion of any of the Indians, whence I was ready to look upon myself as a burden to the society that employed me. I began to entertain serious thoughts of giving up my mission; and almost resolved I would, at the conclusion of the year, if I had no better prospect in my work than I had hitherto had.

In this frame of mind I first visited these Indians at Crosweeksung, apprehending it was my duty to make some attempts for their conversion, though I cannot say, I had any hope of success.

And yet this was the very season that God saw fit 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 failed.—“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, in a manner almost unaccountable, called these Indians together and how he ♦seized their minds with the most solemn concern as fast as they came to the place where his word was preached. When I first came into these parts, I found not one man at the place, but only four women, and a few children: but before I had been there many days, they gathered from all quarters, some from more than twenty miles distant: and when I made them a second visit, 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, 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.

Nor is it less surprising that they were one after another affected with a solemn concern, almost as soon as they came upon the spot ♦where divine truths were taught them. I could not but think, their coming to this place 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 deeply convinced of their sin and misery, and to inquire with great solicitude, “What they should do to be saved?”

3dly, It is likewise remarkable how God preserved these poor ignorant Indians from being prejudiced against me, and the truths I taught them. There were many attempts made by some 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.

Sometimes they told them, that I was a knave, a deceiver: that I taught them lies, and had no other design but to impose upon them.

And when none of these suggestions would avail, they told the Indians, “My design was to gather together as large a body of men as I could, and sell them to England for slaves.” 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 insinuations (through divine goodness) constantly turned against the authors of them, and only served to engage the affections of the Indians more firmly to me: for they 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 any for the souls of others.

It seems the more wonderful that the Indians were preserved from hearkening to these suggestions, as I was an utter stranger among them, and could give no assurance of my sincere affection, by any thing that was past,—while the persons that insinuated these things were their old acquaintance, who had had frequent opportunities of gratifying them, and consequently had the greatest interest in their affections.

4thly, Nor is it less wonderful how God was pleased to provide a remedy for my want of skill in the Indian language, by remarkably fitting my interpreter for, and assisting him in the performance of his work. It might be supposed I must labour under a vast disadvantage in addressing the Indians by an interpreter, and that divine truths would lose much of their energy, by coming to the audience from a second hand. But although this has often been the case in times past, when my interpreter had little sense of divine things, yet now it is quite otherwise. I cannot think my addresses to the Indians since the beginning of this season of grace, have lost any thing of the power with which they were made, unless it were sometimes for want of pertinent expressions in the Indian language. My interpreter had before gained some good degree of doctrinal knowledge, whereby he was capable of understanding and communicating the meaning of my discourses, without being obliged to interpret word for word. He had likewise 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. And it is remarkable, that when I was favoured with any special assistance, and enabled to speak with more than common freedom, fervency, and power, he was affected in the same manner almost instantly, and enabled to speak in the same pathetic language that I did. And a surprising energy often accompanied the word at such seasons; so that the face of the whole assembly would be changed almost in an instant, and tears and sobs became common among them.

He likewise took pains day and night to inculcate upon the Indians the truths I taught them daily; and this not from spiritual pride, but from a spirit of faithfulness, and an honest concern for their souls.

And thus God, without bestowing on me the gift of tongues, could find a way wherein I might be effectually enabled to convey the truths of his glorious gospel to the minds of these poor benighted Pagans.

Lastly, The effects of this work have been very remarkable. I doubt not but that many of these people have gained more knowledge of divine truths since June last, than could have been instilled into their minds by the most diligent use of proper means for whole years together, without such a divine influence. Their Pagan notions and idolatrous practices seem to be entirely abandoned. They are 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, and 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. Love reigns among them, especially those who have experienced a real change: and I never saw any appearance of bitterness or censoriousness, nor any disposition to “esteem themselves better than others.”

*As their sorrows under convictions have been great and pressing, so many of them have since appeared to “rejoice with joy unspeakable.” And yet their consolations do not incline them to lightness; but are attended with solemnity, and with tears, and brokenness of heart. 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,” “they could not help crying for all.”

Upon the whole, here are all the evidences of a remarkable work of grace that can reasonably be looked for. May the great Author maintain and promote the same here, and propagate it every where, till “the whole earth be filled with his glory!”

I have now rode more than three thousand miles since the beginning of March last; and almost the whole of it has been as a missionary, upon the design of propagating Christian knowledge among the Indians. I have taken pains to look out for a colleague, to travel with me; but have not as yet found any person qualified and disposed for this good work.

As these poor Pagans stood in need of having “line upon line, and precept upon precept,” in order to their being grounded in the principles of Christianity; so I preached “publickly and taught from house to house,” almost every day for whole weeks together. And my public discourses did not then make up the one half of my work, while there were so many constantly coming to me with that important inquiry, “What must we do to be saved?” And yet I can say, (to the praise of God) that the success with which my labours were crowned, unspeakably more than compensated for the labour itself, and was likewise a great means of carrying me through fatigues, which 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!”

[Tuesday, November 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 school-master to instruct them.]

Lord’s day, November 10. [At Elisabeth-Town] I preached in the forenoon from 2 Corinthians v. 20. God was pleased to give me freedom and fervency; and the presence of God seemed to be in the assembly; numbers were affected, and there were many tears among them. In the afternoon I preached from Luke xiv. 22. “And yet there is room.” I was favoured with divine assistance in the first prayer, and poured out my soul to God with a filial temper; the living God also assisted me in sermon.

Friday, November 15. I 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. Yet God gave me some satisfaction in meditation, and lifting up my heart to God in the midst of company. And although some were drinking and talking profanely, 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.

Saturday, November 16. I crossed the ferry and arrived at Elisabeth’s-Town near night. I was in a 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.

*Friday, November 22. I rode to Mr. Tennent’s and from thence to Crosweeksung. Oh that I could fill up all my time, whether in the house or by the way, for God! I was enabled this day to give up my soul to God, and put all my concerns into his hands: and found real consolation in the thought of being entirely at his 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!

Lord’s-day, November 24. I preached from the story of Zaccheus. When I insisted upon the salvation that comes to the sinner, upon his becoming a true believer, the word seemed to be attended with divine power.――Numbers were much affected;—former convictions were revived, one or two persons newly awakened;—and a most affectionate engagement appeared among them universally.

November 26. I was favoured with freedom and fervency in my discourse. Many wept affectionately, and scarce any appeared unconcerned. The influence that seized the audience appeared gentle, and yet deeply affected the heart. It excited 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.

The persons lately awakened, were deeply distressed, and appeared earnestly ♦solicitous to obtain an interest in Christ: and some of them, in anguish of spirit, said, “They knew not what to do, nor how to get their wicked hearts changed.”

November 28. After public service was over, I asked one of the Indians who wept most affectionately, “What she now wanted?” She replied, “Oh to be with Christ! She did not know how to stay.” 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 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 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 deep and pressing concern, and was earnestly inquisitive “how he might find Jesus Christ.”

God seems still to vouchsafe the influence of his blessed Spirit, in all our meetings for divine worship.

November 30. I preached near night, after having spent some hours in private conference with some of my people. I explained the story of the rich man and Lazarus, Luke xvi. 19. 26. The word made powerful impressions upon many, 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 torments. And thus it has been usually with them. They have 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 wanted, and could not obtain the happiness of the godly; 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 of their own hearts, their utter inability to help themselves, or come to Christ for help, without divine assistance.

Lord’s-day, December 1. I gave them 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 on their account.

Monday, December 9. I spent most of the day in procuring provisions, in order to my setting up house-keeping among the Indians.

Tuesday, December 10. Towards night I got into my own house.¹

December 12. I preached from the parable of the ten virgins, Matthew xxv. The divine power seemed to attend this discourse, in which I was favoured with uncommon plainness of address, and enabled to open divine truths, in a ♦manner beyond myself.—There appeared in many an affectionate concern for their souls: and it was refreshing to see them melted into tears; some with sense of divine love, and some for want of it.

Lord’s-day, December 15. I preached to the Indians from Luke xiii. 24, 28. Divine truths fell with weight upon the audience. Near night I discoursed to them again from Matthew xxv. 31. to 46. At which season also, the word appeared to be accompanied with divine influence, and made powerful impressions upon the assembly in general, as well as upon divers persons in a very particular manner. This was an amazing season of grace! “The word of the Lord,” “was quick and powerful, sharper than a two-edged sword.” The assembly was deeply wrought upon; and the impressions made by the word of God appeared solid and rational, worthy of the solemn truths by means of which they were produced.

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!”

*December 16. There was much affection and concern in the assembly; especially one woman appeared in great distress. She was brought to such an agony in seeking after Christ, that the sweat ran off her face for a considerable time, although the evening was very cold; and her bitter cries were the most affecting indication of the inward anguish of her heart.

Saturday, December 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; and this evening attempted something in that form; proposing questions to them, receiving their answers, and then explaining and insisting as appeared proper upon each question. After which I endeavoured to make some practical improvement of the whole.—They were able readily and rationally to answer many important questions: so that I found their knowledge to exceed my expectations.—In the improvement of my discourse, when I came to open the blessedness of those who have so great and glorious a God, as had been spoken of, “for their everlasting friend and portion,” sundry were much affected: and especially when I exhorted them “to be reconciled to God,” through his dear Son, and thus to secure an interest in his everlasting favour.

*Lord’s-day, December 22. After my labours with the Indians, I spent some time in writing; and was much wearied with the labours of the day. 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.

There were sundry persons of the Indians newly come here, who had frequently lived among the Quakers; and being more civilized than the generality of the Indians, they had imbibed some of the Quakers errors, especially this, that if men would but live according to the dictates of their own consciences, (or the light within,) there is no doubt of their salvation.――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, nor have any self-righteous foundation to stand upon. However, they all, except one, appeared now convinced, that this 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 which I had been labouring to shew them the necessity of.

This was likewise a season of comfort to some souls, and in particular to one who never before obtained any settled comfort.

When I came to enquire of her, how she got relief from the distresses she had lately been under, she answered in broken English,¹ “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,² “Could not me help it. My heart he would wicked for all. Could not me make him good:” I asked her, How she got out of this case? She answered still in the same broken language,³ “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 love him for all.”

*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, provided it was the will of God to send her to it.

December 25. The Indians having been used upon Christmas-days to drink and revel among the white people, I thought proper to call them together, and discourse to them upon divine things: which I accordingly did from the parable of the barren figtree, Luke xiii. 6‒9. The power of God appeared in the assembly, by awakening several stupid creatures, that were scarce ever moved before. And the impressions made upon the assembly in general, seemed not superficial, but deep and heart-affecting. O how ready did they appear to comply with every thing they were convinced was their 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! They seemed to watch and wait for the dropping of God’s word, as the thirsty earth for the “former and latter rain.”

December 26. This evening I was visited by a person under great spiritual exercise. She was a woman of more than four-score 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.—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? She answered to this effect, That she had heard me preach many times, but 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 or 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, she says, two paths, one appeared very broad and crooked; and that turned to the left hand. The other appeared strait 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 sometimes compared it to a block or bar. She then remembered, she says, what she had heard me say about “striving to enter in at the strait gate,” (although she took little notice of it at that time) 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.

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.” And this she spoke in anguish of spirit, striking her breast, with tears in her eyes; and with such earnestness in her looks as was indeed 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 there is ground to hope for it, seeing she is solicitous to obtain an interest in Christ, that her heart, (as she expresses it) prays day and night.

December 28. I 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 pressing sinners to take a view of their deplorable circumstances without Christ; as also to strive that they may obtain an interest in him; the Lord granted a remarkable influence of his blessed Spirit, and there was a great concern in the assembly: many were melted into tears, and the impressions made upon them seemed deep and heart affecting. And in particular, there were two or three persons who appeared to be reduced almost to extremity; being convinced of the impossibility of helping themselves, or mending their own hearts; and upon the point of giving up all hope in themselves, and venturing upon Christ as naked, helpless and undone.

Lord’s-day. December 29. I preached from John iii. 1‒5. a number of white people were present, as is usual upon the sabbath. The discourse 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. 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 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 God was 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.

*It is impossible to give a just description of the ♦appearance of things at this season. A number were rejoicing that God had not taken away the influence of his blessed Spirit.――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 going towards the place of execution: so that there seemed a lively emblem of the solemn day of accounts; a mixture of heaven and hell; of joy unspeakable, and anguish inexpressible.

*The concern 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, sometimes all together, and concluded with prayer. Such were their circumstances, that I could scare 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.

December 30. I 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 of flying to Christ without delay, for salvation.

December 31. I spent some hours this day in visiting my people from house to house: and scarce left a house, without leaving some or other of its inhabitants in tears, 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 situation in regard both of public and private instruction.

Wednesday, January 1, 1745‒6. I am this day beginning a New-Year; and God has carried me through numerous trials and labours in the ♦year 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 last! The business that I have been enabled to go through, I know, has been as great as nature is able to bear up under, and what would have sunk me quite, without special support. But alas! though I have done the labours and endured the trials, with what spirit I have done the one, and borne the other? How cold has my heart often been! and how little have I eyed the glory of God! 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 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.

January 2. I visited some persons newly come among us, who had scarce ever heard any thing of Christianity (but the name). I endeavoured to instruct them in the first principles of religion in the most easy and familiar manner I could.

There are strangers from remote parts almost continually dropping in, so that I have occasion repeatedly to open and inculcate the first principles of Christianity.

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 came upon the assembly in so remarkable a manner, that I thought it more expedient to insist upon the plentiful provision made 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.

I baptized two persons this day; one adult and one child.

The woman has discovered an heavenly frame of mind, from her first reception of comfort. One morning in particular she came to see me, discovering an unusual joy in her countenance; and when I inquired the reason of it, she replied, “That God had made her feel that it was right for him to do as he pleased with all things? 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.”

*Wednesday, January 8. My heart was drawn out after God: my soul was refreshed and quickened; 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 under my bodily weakness; willing to live or die, and desirous to labour for God to the utmost of my strength.

Friday, January 10. My soul was in a calm, composed frame, and my heart filled with love to all the world; and Christian simplicity and tenderness seemed to prevail and reign with me. Near night, I visited a serious baptist minister, and had some agreeable conversation with him.

January 13. I was visited by divers persons under deep concern; 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 is peculiarly strong when the work is so lively. And yet my health is so much impaired, and my spirit so wasted with my labours, and solitary manner of living, (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 what contributes much towards this difficulty is, that I am obliged to spend much time communicating a little matter to them; there being often 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 knowledge.

Lord’s-day, January 19. I catechised in my ordinary method. Numbers were much affected. —Convictions powerfully revived.—Divers of the Christians refreshed and strengthened.—And one weary heavy laden soul, I have reason to hope, was brought to solid comfort in Christ.

*He told me, he had often heard me say, that persons must see and feel themselves helpless and undone; that they must give up 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; supposing this would be an excellent frame of mind: that God would have respect to this frame, 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: so that it was not the same, 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 for ever impossible for him to make himself any better. 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.――Instead of imagining that God would be pleased with him for the sake of this frame of mind, he saw clearly 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.

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; he thought, 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: nor did he now hope for a better opportunity 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 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, but his mind was 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 is, that he appears to retain a relish of divine things, and to maintain a life of true religion.

Lord’s-day, January 26. 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 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, I rode to Elisabeth-Town: while riding I was almost constantly engaged in lifting up my heart to God, lest I should lose that sweet heavenly solemnity and composure of soul I enjoyed. Afterwards I 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. I never felt more divine serenity and composure of mind: I 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 desireable 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.

January 28. The Indians in these parts having in times past run themselves in debt by their excessive drinking; and some having taken the advantage of them, and arrested sundry of them; whereby it was supposed their hunting lands might speedily be taken from them: I being sensible that they could not subsist together in these parts, if these lands should drop out of their hands, thought it my duly to use my utmost endeavours to prevent it. And having acquainted the gentlemen concerned in this mission with the affair, they thought it proper to expend the money they had been collecting for the religious interests of the Indians, (at least a part of it,) for the discharging of their debts, and securing of these lands.—And having received orders from them, I answered, in behalf of the Indians, Eighty-two pounds five shillings, New-Jersey currency.

January 31. This day the person I had engaged for a school-master among the Indians, arrived among us, and was heartily welcomed by my people.――Whereupon I distributed several dozen of primers among the children and young people.

February 1, 1745‒6. My school-master 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.

In the evening I catechised in my usual method. Towards the close of my discourse, a surprising power seemed to attend the word. 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, 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.

[Monday, February 10. 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. He arrived at his own house at the Forks, on Friday.]

I baptized three persons, two adults, and one child. There was a considerable melting in the assembly, while I was 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 have obtained relief and comfort, just when this ordinance has been administered.

Toward night I catechised, God made this a powerful season. There were many affected.――Former convictions were 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 distress, that was now brought to a comfortable calm, and told me, “She now saw and felt it was right God should do with her as he pleased.” And added, that the heavy burden she had lain under, was now removed: 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. But Christ could save her, though she could do nothing to save herself.

Lord’s-day, February 16. Knowing that divers of the Indians in those parts were obstinately set against Christianity, I thought it proper to have some of my people from Crosweeksung with me, in order to converse with them; hoping it might convince them of the truth, to 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 knowing persons, I this day met with them and the Indians of this place, (sundry of whom could not have been prevailed upon to attend the meeting, had it not been for these Indians) and preached to them.—Some of them who had, in times past, been extremely averse to Christianity, now behaved soberly; the word of God fell with such weight, that several seemed to be stunned, and expressed a willingness to “hear me again of these matters.”

Those few Indians then present, who used to be my hearers in these parts, (some having removed from hence to Crosweeksung) seemed glad to see me again, although they had been so much attacked by some of the Pagans, that they were almost afraid to manifest their friendship.

In the evening I was in a composed frame of mind. It was exceeding refreshing to think, that God had been with me, affording me some good measure of assistance. I found freedom in prayer and thanksgiving to God: and found my soul sweetly enlarged in prayer. Blessed be the Lord, that ever I am enabled to do any thing for his kingdom. Blessed be God who enables me to be faithful, I enjoyed more resolution for God, and more refreshment of spirit, than I have been favoured with for many weeks past.

February 17. I discoursed 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 by their earnest attention, tears and sobs. My people from Crosweeksung continued with them day and night, 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 to take more effect upon them, than when they directed their discourses immediately to them.

February 18. I preached to an assembly of Irish people near fifteen miles distant from the Indians.

February 19. I preached to the Indians again, after having spent a considerable time in conversing with them 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 removed, and appeared well disposed to hear the word of God.

February 20. I 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 have divers of them lately been put upon an inquiry after the way of salvation. They gave wonderful attention, and some of them were much affected, 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.”

February 21. I preached to a number of people, many of them Low-Dutch, sundry of the High-Dutch attended, 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 Crosweeksung) two in particular, who in the last Sabbath, opposed and ridiculed Christianity.

February 20. I preached to the Indians. They seemed more cordial to Christianity than before, and some appeared much affected.

My spirits were supported, though my bodily strength was much wasted. O 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; sundry of the Indians much cured of prejudice against Christianity, and some seemed to be really awakened.

[The next day he left the Forks of Delaware, to return to Crosweeksung; and spent the whole week till Saturday, before he arrived there; but preached by the way every day, excepting one; and had much inward comfort, and earnest longings to fill up all his time with the service of God.]

Lord’s-day, March 2. 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. They can scarce go into a house now, but they will meet with Christian conversation, whereby they may be both instructed and awakened.

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, 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! Effected by nothing less than divine power and grace!

Their present situation is so compact and commodious, that they are quickly called together with only the sound of a Conk-shell, (a shell like that of a Perriwinkle) so that they have frequent opportunities of attending religious exercises publicly; which seems to be a great means, under God, of keeping alive their impressions of divine things.

*Thursday, March 6. I walked alone in the evening, and enjoyed comfort in prayer, beyond what I have of late enjoyed: my soul rejoiced in my pilgrimage-state. I was delighted with the thought of labouring and enduring hardness for God: and confided in God that he “never would leave me nor forsake me,” to the end of my race. Oh, may I obtain mercy of God to be faithful, to my dying moment!

March 8. I 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 among them, appears still to continue. The divine presence seemed to be in the assembly this evening. Some, who are Christians indeed, were melted with a sense of the divine goodness, and their own barrenness and ingratitude.—Convictions also appeared to revive in several; so it might justly be called “an evening of power.”

Lord’s day, March 9. I preached from Luke x. 38‒42. The word of God was attended with energy. Numbers were concerned to obtain the one thing needful. Several that have given good evidences of being truly converted, 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 had any impressions of divine things in times past, now felt those impressions revived.

In the afternoon, I 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, that I thought it proper to omit the questions, and insist upon the most practical truths.

There appeared to be a powerful influence in the congregation. Those 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 and tears! and one or two persons newly come among us, were considerably awakened.

After public worship many came to my house, where we sung and discoursed; 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 February 9.) who, 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!”—In this ecstasy she continued some time, uttering these and such like expressions incessantly.

*When she had a little recovered, I asked her, if Christ was now sweet to her soul? Whereupon, turning to me with tears in her eyes, 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!”—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 the 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, “O! there is enough in Christ for you, if you would but come! O strive, strive to give up your hearts to him!”—And upon hearing something of the glory of heaven mentioned, she again fell into the same ecstasy, 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!”

She continued in this sweet frame for more than two hours, before she was well able to get home.

I am sensible there may be great joys, where there is no 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, I scarce ever saw one more bowed under convictions of sin; and scarce any who seemed to have a greater acquaintance with her own heart than she had.

And as she was remarkably sensible of her stubbornness under conviction, so she was no less remarkably reconciled to divine grace, before she obtained relief. Since which she has constantly breathed the spirit of a 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 bitterly, because she could not love him.—When I have 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, yet she never had any remarkable comfort till this evening.

The attendants of this comfort, were such as abundantly discovered that it was truly “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 husband, (who was 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.—Now she could freely trust her all with God for time and eternity. And when I queried with her, how she could be willing to die, and leave her little infant: and what she thought would become of it in case she should? She answered, “God will take care of it. It belongs to him.”—Now she appeared to have the most humbling sense of her own unworthiness and inability to preserve herself from sin, and to persevere in holiness. And I thought I had never seen such an appearance of ecstasy and humility meeting in any one person.

The consequents of this joy are no less desirable 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.

March 10. Toward night the Indians met together of their own accord, and sang, prayed, and discoursed of divine things. At this time there was much affection among them. Some appeared to be melted with divine things, and others seemed much concerned for their souls.

I baptized the woman mentioned in my journal of last Lord’s-day; who appeared to be in a devout, and excellent frame of mind.

My house being thronged with people in the evening, I spent the time with them, till my nature was almost spent.—They are so unwearied in religious exercises, and unsatiable in their thirsting after Christian knowledge, that I can sometimes scarce avoid labouring so, as greatly to exhaust my strength.

March 19. Some of the persons that went with me to the Forks of Delaware, having been detained there by the dangerous illness of one of their company, returned home this day. Whereupon my people met together of their own accord, 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 that had been sick.

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 religious meeting till now, I thought it proper to discourse this day in a manner suited to their circumstances, and accordingly attempted it from Hosea xiii. 9, opening in the plainest manner I could, man’s apostacy 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, I endeavoured to open the glorious provision God has made for the redemption of apostate creatures.

Near sun-set I felt an uncommon concern upon my mind, especially for the poor strangers: I visited sundry houses, and discoursed with them severally, but without much appearance of success, till I came to a house where divers of the strangers were; and there the word took 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 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 meet for public worship. And the congregation gathering immediately and many appearing remarkably affected, I discoursed some time from Luke xix. 10, endeavouring to open the mercy of Christ for lost, helpless, and undone sinners.

There was much concern in the assembly; and I doubt not but 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 jailor, and weep for a long time.

The Pagans that were awakened seemed at once to put off their savage roughness, and became sociable and humane. When they first came, I exhorted my 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 it, the strangers would soon rise up and walk to other houses. 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 warm addresses respecting their souls.――But now there was no need of using policy in order to get an opportunity of conversing: for they were so touched with a sense of their perishing state, as tamely to yield to the closest addresses, respecting their sin and misery, and their need of an acquaintance with the great Redeemer.

Monday, March 24. I numbered the Indians, to see how many souls God had gathered together here, since my coming; and found there was now about an hundred and thirty persons, old and young. And sundry of those that are my stated hearers, perhaps fifteen or twenty, were absent at this season. Whereas few were together at my first coming into these parts, the whole number not amounting to ten persons.

My people going out this day to clear some of their lands about fifteen miles distant, in order to their settling there together, where they might attend the public worship of God, have their children schooled, and at the same time have a conveniency for planting: I thought it proper to call them together and shew 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. And having given them directions for their work, and recommended them to God, I dismissed them to their business. In the evening I read and expounded the substance of the third chapter of the Acts. Numbers seemed to melt under the word.――When I asked them afterwards, whether they did not now feel that their hearts were wicked? One replied, “Yes, she felt it now.” Although before she came here 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, universally in the Pagan state. (And in the Christian too!)

They seem to have no consciousness of sin and guilt, unless they can charge themselves with some gross acts of sin.

Monday, March 24. After the Indians were gone to their work, I got alone and poured out my soul to God, that he would smile upon these feeble beginners, and that he would settle an Indian town, that might be a mountain of holiness; and found my soul much refreshed, and much enlarged for Zion’s interest, and for numbers of dear friends in particular. My sinking spirits were revived, 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 had any hope that ever I should succeed.

[The next day, his school-master was taken sick with a pleurisy; and he spent great part of this week in tending him: which in his weak state was almost too much for him: he being obliged constantly to wait upon him, all day, from day to day, and to lie on the floor at night.]

March 29. In the evening I catechised as usual. Treating upon the “benefits which believers receive from Christ’s death.”――The questions were answered with great readiness and propriety. And the people of God, were sweetly melted 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 hastening 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 an 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.”

March 31. I called my people together again, and discoursed to them again on the necessity of their labouring industriously, in order to their living together, and enjoying the means of grace. And having used solemn prayer among them, I dismissed them to their work.

Numbers of them both (men and women) offered themselves willingly to this service; and some appeared affectionately concerned that God might go with them, and begin their little town for them: that it might be a place comfortable for them and theirs, in regard both of procuring the necessaries of life, and attending the worship of God.

Wednesday, April 2. I was exercised with a spiritless frame of mind. 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 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 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 the clogs and fetters, and a body of death, that impede my service for him.

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; I have not felt such a sweet and fervent love 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.

Lord’s-day, April 6. I preached from Matthew vii. 21‒23. There were considerable effects visible in the audience; an earnest attention, a great solemnity, many tears and sighs. Divers were put upon close examination of their spiritual slates, by hearing that “not every one that saith to Christ, Lord, Lord, shall enter into his kingdom.” And some of them expressed fears least they had deceived themselves, and taken up a false hope, because they had done so little of the “will of his Father who is in heaven.”

There was also one man brought under pressing concern for his soul; which appeared more especially after his retirement from public worship. And that which, he says, gave him the greatest uneasiness, was, not so much any particular sin, as that he had never done the will of God at all, 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 this the religious people were much affected, especially when they heard, that the offender continuing obstinate, must be esteemed “as an Heathen man, that has no part or lot among God’s visible people.” This they seemed to have the most awful apprehensions of; 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 on the great concerns of their souls; and the Lord seemed to smile upon my endeavours, and to make these particular addresses more effectual than my public discourses.

April 7. I endeavoured to open the institution, nature, and ends of the Lord’s supper, as well as the qualifications necessary to the right participation of it. Sundry persons seemed much affected with the love of Christ in this provision for the comfort of his people, at a season when himself was just entering upon his sharpest sufferings.

[On Tuesday, he went to a meeting of the Presbytery appointed at Elisabeth’s-Town. In his way thither, he enjoyed some sweet meditations; but after he came there, he was (as he expresses it) under an awful gloom, that oppressed his mind. And this continued till Saturday evening. He spent the sabbath at Staten island; where he preached to an assembly of Dutch and English, and enjoyed considerable refreshment. In the evening he returned to Elisabeth’s-Town.]

Monday, April 14. My spirits were 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. Oh, how free, how comfortable, chearful, 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!

*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! 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!

Thursday, April 17. I enjoyed some comfort in prayer, some freedom in meditation, and composure in my studies. In the evening I preached from Psalms lxxiii. 28. “But it is good for me to draw near to God.” God helped me to feel the truth of my text. I was enabled to pour out my soul to God with great freedom, fervency, and affection: and 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; my soul cried, “Oh that the dear creatures might be saved! O that God would have mercy on them!”

Lord’s-day, April 20.¹ I enjoyed some freedom, and exercise of faith and prayer, especially when I came to pray for Zion. I was free from gloomy discouragement; and my soul rejoiced in the hopes of Zion’s prosperity, and the enlargement of the kingdom of the great Redeemer.

Monday, April 21. I was composed and comfortable most of the day; had freedom in prayer, several times; especially for Zion’s enlargement and prosperity. And Oh, how refreshing were these hopes to my soul! Oh that the kingdom of the Lord might come.

Tuesday, April 22. My mind was remarkably free from melancholy damps, and animated in my work, I found such 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, for my own people, and for dear friends in remote places. Oh that Zion might prosper, and precious souls be brought home to God!

April 25. Having appointed the next Lord’s-day for the administration of the Lord’s supper, this day was set apart for solemn fasting and prayer, to implore the blessing of God upon our design; and to intreat that his presence might be with us in our approach to his table.

The solemnity was observed, not only by those who proposed to communicate, but by the whole congregation.—In the former part of the day, I endeavoured to open to my people the nature of a fast, and to instruct them in the duties of such a solemnity.—In the afternoon I insisted upon the special reasons there were for our now engaging in these solemn exercises; both in regard of the need we stood in of divine assistance, in order to a due preparation for the sacred ordinance; and in respect of the manifest decline of God’s work here, as to the conviction and conversion of sinners.

The worship of God was attended with great solemnity and reverence, with much tenderness and many tears, and there was some appearance of divine power upon those who had been awakened some time before.

After repeated prayer, I led them to a solemn renewal of their baptismal covenant, wherein they had explicitly 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, and solemnly engaging to take the word of God 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.

This solemn transaction was attended with much seriousness; and at the same time with the utmost readiness and chearfulness; and an union and harmony of soul seemed to crown the whole.

April 26. I catechised those that 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 knowledge. They likewise appeared, to have an affecting sense of the solemnity of the ordinance, and to be humbled under a sense of their own unworthiness; and earnestly concerned that they may be duly prepared for an attendance upon it. Their hearts were full of love one toward another, and this they seemed much concerned to maintain, and bring to the Lord’s table with them.

I administered the Lord’s supper to twenty-three Indians, (the number of men and women being nearly equal,) divers others, to the number of five or six, being now absent at the Forks of Delaware.

The ordinance was attended with great solemnity, and with the utmost tenderness and affection. In 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, seemed to be entertained with the same full and firm belief and affectionate engagement of soul, as if the Lord Jesus Christ himself had personally spoken to them.

*Having rested some time after the administration of the sacrament, I walked from house to house, and conversed particularly with most of the communicants, and found they had been refreshed at the Lord’s table “as with new wine.” And never did I see such an appearance of Christian love among any people. One might well have cried with an agreeable surprize, “Behold how they love one another!”

Toward night I discoursed on the immediate design of Christ’s death, “To redeem his people from all iniquity.”

This appeared to be a season of divine power. The religious were much refreshed, and seemed remarkably tender, full of love, joy, peace, and desires of being completely “redeemed from all iniquity.” 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 which attended our assembly, that it seemed grievous to conclude the public worship. And the congregation when ♦dismissed, although it was then almost dark, appeared loth to leave the place.

April 28. I concluded the solemnity with a discourse upon John xiv. 15. “If ye love me keep my commandments.” There appeared great 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, I thought it proper to improve this advantageous season, as Hezekiah did his great passover, (2 Chronicles xxxi.) in order to promote the blessed reformation among them: and accordingly proposed to them that they should renewedly enter into covenant before God, to watch over themselves and one another. And especially that they would watch against the sin of drunkenness.—They chearfully complied and explicitly joined in that covenant; whereupon I proceeded in the most solemn manner to call God to witness their sacred engagement; minded them of the greatness of the guilt they would contract in the violation of it; and 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! Affectionate sighs, and tears, were frequent in the audience: and I doubt not but many silent cries were sent up to the fountain of grace, for grace to fulfil these solemn engagements.

[On Tuesday he went to Elisabeth-Town, to the meeting of the Presbytery: and spent the time in a free and comfortable state of mind.]

Saturday, May 3. I rode from Elisabeth-Town home to my people, near Cranberry; whither they are removed, and where I hope God will settle them as a Christian congregation. I was refreshed in lifting up my heart to God, while riding; and enjoyed a thankful frame of spirit.

May 4. My people being now removed to their lands; I this day visited them, and preached to them from Mark iv. 5. shewing the reason there was to fear, lest many hopeful beginnings, might prove abortive, like the “seed dropped upon stony places.”

May 5. I visited them again, and gave them directions relating to their business.

I daily discover more and more of what importance it is, that they become industrious, and able to raise the necessaries of life within themselves; for their present method of living greatly exposes them to temptations of various kinds.

*Wednesday, May 7. I spent most of the day in writing, and enjoyed freedom in my work. I was favoured with comfortable meditations, this day, and in the evening, was in a sweet composed frame of mind: pleased and delighted to leave all with God, respecting myself, for time and eternity, and respecting the people of my charge and dear friends: I 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.

*Thursday, May 8. In the evening I 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 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, infinitely better than life itself.

May 9. I preached in the open wilderness; the Indians having as yet no house for public worship in this place, nor scarce any shelter for themselves.――Divine truths made considerable impressions, and it was a season of solemnity, tenderness, and affection.

I baptized this day, the ♦conjurer and murderer mentioned before, such a remarkable instance of divine grace, that I cannot omit some brief account of him.

He lived near, and sometimes attended me in the Forks of Delaware for more than a year together; but was extremely attached to strong drink, and seemed to be no ways reformed. In this time he likewise murdered a young Indian, which threw him into a kind of desperation, so that he kept from me, and refused to hear me preach for several months, till I had an opportunity of conversing freely with him, and giving him encouragement, that even his sin might be forgiven for Christ’s sake.

But that which was the worst was his conjuration. He was one of them who are called powwows among the Indians: and notwithstanding his attendance upon my preaching, still followed his old charms, “giving out that he 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, and mentioned them as evidences of his divine mission, they have quickly observed the wonders which this man performed by his magic charms; which seemed to be a fatal obstruction to their receiving the gospel. And I often thought, it would be a great favour to the Indians, if God would take that wretch out of the world: but God, “whose thoughts are not as man’s thoughts,” has been pleased to take a much more desirable method; a method agreeable to his own merciful nature, advantageous to his own interest among the Indians, as well as to the poor soul himself.

The first genuine concern for his soul was excited by seeing my interpreter and his wife baptized at the Forks of Delaware, July 21, 1745. Which so prevailed upon him that he followed me down to Crosweeksung in the beginning of August, and there continued for several weeks in the season of the most powerful awakening among the Indians; at which time he was more effectually awakened: and then, he says, upon his “feeling the spirit of God in his heart,” (as he expresses it) his spirit of conjuration left him entirely; that he has had no more power of that nature since, than any other man. And he declares that he does not 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 ever so desirous.

He continued under convictions all the fall, and former part of the winter past, but was not so deeply exercised till January; and then the word of God took such hold upon him, that he knew not what to do, or where to turn.—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, 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.

He continued under the heavy burden of a wounded spirit, till he was brought into the utmost agony of soul.

After this he was brought to a kind of calmness; he appeared perfectly sedate; although he had no sure hope of salvation.

*I observed him remarkably composed, and 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 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 it is as bad as ever it was,”—I scarce ever saw any person more effectually brought off from a dependence upon his own endeavours for salvation.

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. And yet it was plain he had a secret hope of mercy, which kept him from pressing distress: so that instead of being sad and dejected, his very countenance appeared pleasant and agreeable.

*It was remarkable in this season 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 he thought himself doomed to.—It was likewise remarkable, that in this season he was most diligent in the use of all means for his salvation; although he had the clearest view of the insufficiency of means to afford him help.

*After he had continued in this frame of mind more than a week, while I was discoursing publicly, he seemed to have a lively view of the excellency of Christ, and the way of salvation by him, which melted him into tears, and filled him with admiration, comfort, and praise to God; since which he has appeared to be an humble, devout, and affectionate Christian; serious and exemplary in his conversation and behaviour, frequently complaining of his want of warmth, life, and activity, and yet frequently favoured with quickening influences. And in all respects he bears the marks of one “created anew in Christ Jesus.”

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 who threatened to bewitch me and my people who accompanied me; this man 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, 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 touch one of them.

Saturday, May 10. I rode to Allen’s-Town, to assist in the administration of the Lord’s supper. In the afternoon I preached from Titus ii. 14. God was pleased to carry me through with some freedom; and yet to deny me that enlargement I longed for. In the evening my soul mourned, that I had treated so excellent a subject in so defective a manner. And if my discourse had met with the utmost applause from all the world, it would not have given me any satisfaction: Oh, it grieved me to think, that I had had no more holy warmth, that I had been no more melted in discoursing of Christ’s death, and the design of it! Afterwards, I enjoyed 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. I assisted in the administration of the Lord’s supper; but enjoyed little enlargement. In the afternoon I went to the house of God weak and sick in soul, as well as feeble in body: and longed, that the people might be 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 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. I discoursed upon Luke ix. 30. “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.” I enjoyed special freedom, from the beginning to the end of my discourse. Things pertinent to the subject were abundantly presented to my view; and such a fullness of matter, that I scarce knew how to dismiss the various heads I had occasion to touch upon. And, blessed be the Lord, I was favoured with 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.”

Friday, May 16. I enjoyed some agreeable conversation with a dear minister, which 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 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! Oh let thy kingdom come! Oh let thy blessed interest be advanced in the world!” When I attempted to look to God, respecting my settling in my congregation, which seems to be necessary, and yet contrary to my fixed intention for years past, as well as my disposition, which has been, and still is, to spend my life in preaching the gospel from place to place, and gathering souls afar off to Jesus the great Redeemer; when I attempted to look to God with regard to these things, 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 the 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, is such circumstances as may best capacitate me to do service for God in the world.” 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 employ time for God to some excellent purpose.

Saturday, May 17. I 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 hindrance to my spiritual fervency and affection: but when God enables me to find that I have done something for him, this animates me, so that I could break through all hardships, undergo any labours, and nothing seems too much either to do or suffer. But Oh, what a death it is, to strive, and strive; to be always in a hurry, and yet do nothing. 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 Revelation 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 crouded in between my people and me. But blessed be God I got those 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 I could not but discourse to my people on the kindness and patience of Christ in standing and knocking at the door.—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!

♦*Thursday, May 22. In the evening I was in a frame somewhat remarkable: I had apprehended for several days, that it was a design of providence I should settle among my people; and had in my own mind began to make provision for it: and yet was never quite pleased with the thoughts of being confined to one place. Nevertheless I seemed to have some freedom, because the congregation was one that God had enabled me to gather from among Pagans. For I never could feel any freedom to “enter into other men’s labour,” and settle where the “gospel was preached before;” 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, in gathering a church among these Indians, I was ready to think, it might be his design to give me a quiet settlement. And this, considering the late frequent failure of my spirits, and the need I stood in of some agreeable society, and my great desire of enjoying conveniencies for profitable studies, was not altogether disagreeable to me. And although I still wanted to go about far and wide, in order to spread the blessed gospel among benighted souls: yet I never had been so willing to settle 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; it appeared to me I had nothing to do with earth, and consequently nothing to lose, by a total renunciation of it: and it appeared just right, that I should be destitute of house and home, and many comforts, which I rejoiced to see others of God’s people enjoy. The same time I saw so much 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 to be 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 (although I spake no words) 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! 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 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, appeared as valuable to me, considered absolutely, as ever before: but considered comparatively, they appeared nothing; compared with an enlargement of Christ’s kingdom, they vanished like the stars before the rising sun. And the comfortable accommodations of life appeared valuable, yet I did surrender 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. I was constrained, and yet chose to say, “Farewell, friends and earthly comforts, the dearest of them all, if the Lord calls for it; adieu, adieu; I’ll 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; and I had a 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. 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 I was in the same frame of mind. The glory of Christ’s kingdom so much outshone the pleasure of earthly accommodations and enjoyments, that they appeared comparatively nothing. My soul was melted in secret, and I found myself ♦divorced from any part in this world so that in those affairs that seemed of the greatest importance, in 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.” Just the same that I felt the evening before, I now felt the same freedom in prayer for the people of my charge, for the propagation of the gospel among the Indians, for the enlargement of Zion in general, and my dear friends in particular; and longed to burn out in one continued flame for God. If ever I filled up a day with study and devotion, I was enabled to fill up this day.

Lord’s-day, May 25. 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, obtained clearness and comfort, and appeared to “rejoice in God her Saviour.”

I have reason to hope, that God has lately brought home to himself sundry souls who had long been under spiritual trouble: though there have been but few instances of persons lately awakened. And those comforted of late, seem to be brought in, in a more silent way, neither their concern nor consolation being so remarkable, as appeared among those wrought upon in the beginning.

June 6. I discoursed to my people from part of Isaiah liii.――The divine presence appeared to be among us. Divers persons were much melted and refreshed; and one man in particular, was now brought to see and feel, in a very lively manner, the impossibility of his doing any thing to help himself, or bring him into the favour of God by his tears, prayers, and other religious performances.

Saturday, June 7. I rode to Freehold to assist Mr. Tennent in the administration of the Lord’s supper. In the afternoon I preached, God gave me freedom and warmth in my discourse: and his presence was in the assembly. I was composed, and enjoyed a thankful frame of spirit; and my soul was grieved that I could not render something to God for his benefits. O that I could be swallowed up in his praise.

Lord’s-day, June 8. I was agreeably entertained in the forenoon by a discourse from Mr. Tennent. In the season of communion, I enjoyed comfort; it was a time of refreshing to me, and 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 to me. In the afternoon, God enabled me to preach with uncommon freedom. Through the goodness of God, I was favoured with a constant flow of matter, and proper expressions. 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! A season of comfort to the godly, and of awakening to other souls.

Monday, June 9. I preached the concluding sermon from Genesis v. 24. “And Enoch walked with God.” God gave me enlargement and fervency in my discourse; so that I was enabled to speak with plainness and power. Praised be the Lord, it was a sweet meeting. I found my strength renewed, even to a wonder; so that I felt much stronger at the conclusion than in the ♦beginning. I have great reason to bless God for this solemnity, wherein I have found assistance in addressing others, and sweetness in my own soul.

To-day a considerable number of my people met together early in the woods, and prayed, sang, and conversed of divine things; and were seen by some of the white people to be affected, and divers of them in tears.

Afterwards they attended the concluding exercises of the sacramental solemnity, and then returned home, “rejoicing for all the goodness of God” they had seen and felt: so that this was a profitable, as well as a comfortable season to many of my congregation.

Friday, June 13.—I came away rejoicing and blessing God for his grace manifested at this season. The same day I baptized five persons, three adults and two children. One of these was the very aged woman of whom I gave an account in my journal of December 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. And although she was become so childish through old age that I could do nothing in a way of questioning with her; yet, when I let her alone to go on with her own story, she could give a very distinct relation of the various exercises of soul she had experienced; so deep were the impressions left upon her mind by that influence she had been under! And I have great reason to hope, she is born anew in her old age, being, upwards of fourscore.

Saturday, June 14. I rode to Kingston, to assist the Rev. Mr. Wales in the administration of the Lord’s-supper. In the afternoon I preached; but almost fainted in the 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 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. I was dejected so that I could not hold up my head. Yet I administered the Lord’s-supper at Mr. Wales’s desire: and found myself in a good measure 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 to me, and I trust more so to others. In the afternoon I preached to a vast multitude from Revelation xxii. 17. God helped me to offer a testimony for himself, and to leave sinners inexcusable. I was enabled to speak with such freedom, fluency, and clearness, as commanded the attention of the great. I was extremely tired in the evening but enjoyed composure and sweetness.

Monday, June 16. I preached again; and God helped me amazingly, so that this was a refreshing season to my soul and others. For ever blessed be God for help, when my body was so weak, and there was so large an assembly.

June 19. I visited my people with two of the reverend correspondents: I spent some time in conversation with them upon spiritual things; and took 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 time for these poor people! What a surprising change appears in their tempers and behaviour! How are savage Pagans transformed into affectionate, and humble Christians! And their drunken and pagan howlings, turned into 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 establish them according to the gospel.――To God only wise, be glory, through Jesus Christ, for ever and ever! Amen.

Before I conclude, I would make a few general remarks upon what to me appears worthy of notice.

And, first, I cannot but take notice that I have ever since my first coming among the Indians, been favoured with that assistance, which (to me) is uncommon, in preaching Christ crucified, and making him the center and mark to which all my discourses were directed.

*It was the principal scope of all my discourses for several months, (after having taught the people 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: their inability to deliver themselves from it: the utter insufficiency of any external reformation, or of any religious performances, to bring them into the favour of God. And thence to shew them their absolute need of Christ to 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 his grace, proposed “without money, and without price.”—And thereupon to press them without delay to betake themselves to him, under a sense of their misery and undone estate, for relief and everlasting salvation.――And to shew them the abundant encouragement the gospel proposes to, perishing, helpless sinners, so to do.

*And I have often remarked, that whatever subject I have been upon, after having explained the truths contained therein, I have been naturally and easily led to Christ as the substance of every one. 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 misery of our fallen state, it was natural from thence to shew 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 shewed our violation of them, this brought me in the most easy way, to speak of 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 center in Christ, as I have frequently done among these Indians.

*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 never could have made myself master of by the most assiduous application. And I have often at such seasons been surprisingly helped in adapting my discourses to the capacities of my people, and bringing them down into such easy, vulgar, and familiar methods of expression, as has rendered them intelligible even to Pagans.

Secondly, It is worthy of remark, 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; without their having them frequently inculcated upon them.

God was pleased to give the grand gospel truths such a powerful influence upon their minds, that their lives ♦were quickly reformed, without repeated harangues upon external duties. There was indeed no room for any discourses but those that respected the essentials of religion, and the experimental knowledge of divine things, while there were so many inquiring daily, not how they should regulate their external conduct; but how they should escape from the wrath to come—obtain an effectual change of heart, and get an interest in Christ.—So that my great work still was to lead them into a further view of their total depravity: to shew that there was no goodness in them: no good dispositions or desires; no love to God, or delight in his commands; but, on the contrary, hatred, enmity, and all manner of wickedness.—And at the same time to open to them the glorious remedy provided in Christ for helpless perishing sinners, and offered freely to those who have no goodness of their own, no “works of righteousness,” to recommend them to God.

When these truths were felt at heart, there was no vice unreformed,—no external duty neglected.――Drunkenness, the darling vice, was broken off, and scarce an instance of it known for months together. The practice of husbands and wives in putting away each other, and taking others, was quickly reformed. The same might be said of all other vices.――The reformation was general; from the internal influence of divine truths upon their hearts; and not because they had heard these vices particularly exposed, and repeatedly spoken against.

*So that experience, as well as the word of God, and the example of Christ and his apostles, have taught me, that the preaching, which is best suited to awaken in mankind a lively apprehension of their depravity and misery,—to excite them earnestly to seek after a change of heart, and to fly for refuge to Christ, as the only hope set before them, is most successful toward the reformation of their external conduct.—I have found that close applications of divine truth to the conscience, strike death to the root of all vice; while smooth harangues upon moral virtues and external duties, at best only lop off the branches of corruption.

I do not intend to represent the preaching of morality, and pressing persons to the external performance of duty, to be unnecessary at any time; especially when there is less of divine power attending the means of grace.—It is doubtless among the things that “ought to be done,” while “others are not to be left undone.”—But what I principally design is a plain matter of fact, viz. That the external compliance with the rules of Christianity, appearing among my people, is not the effect of any merely rational view of the beauty of morality, but of the internal influence that divine truths have had upon their hearts.

Thirdly, It is remarkable, that God has so continued and renewed the showers of his grace: so quickly set up his kingdom among these people; and so smiled upon them in their acquirement of knowledge, both divine and human. It is now near a year since the beginning of this gracious out-pouring of the divine Spirit; and although it has often seemed to decline for some short time, yet the work of grace revived again: so that a divine influence seems still to attend the means of grace, in a greater or less degree: whereby religious persons are refreshed, strengthened, and established,—convictions revived and promoted in many,—and some newly awakened from time to time. Although it must be acknowledged, that for some time past, there has appeared a more manifest decline of this work. But (blessed be God) there is still an appearance of divine power, a desirable degree of tenderness, and devotion in our assemblies.

And as God has continued the showers of his grace among this people; so he has with uncommon quickness set up his kingdom in the midst of them. I have now baptized, since the conclusion of my last journal, 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 I have baptized no adults, but such as appeared to have a work of grace in their hearts: such as have experienced not only the awakening, but the renewing and comforting influences of the divine Spirit. Much of the goodness of God has appeared in their acquirement of knowledge, both in religion and in common life. There has been a wonderful thirst after Christian knowledge among them, and an eager desire of being instructed. This has moved them to ask many pertinent as well as important questions. Many of the doctrines I have delivered, they have queried with me about, in order to gain further light into them: and from time to time manifested a good understanding of them, by their answers to the questions proposed.

They have likewise appeared remarkably apt in learning to sing psalms, and are now able to sing well.

They have also acquired a considerable degree of knowledge in the affairs of common life: so that they now appear like rational creatures, fit for human society, free from that savage roughness and brutish stupidity, which they had in their Pagan state.

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 a school among them have succeeded, and they have a school-master, 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 in the long evenings), 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, near 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, and divers in that space learned to spell considerably; and some of them since the beginning of February last (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 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 it.

Fourthly. It is worthy to be noted, 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, or heats of imagination, intemperate zeal, and spiritual pride; (which corrupt mixtures too often attend the revival of religion) and that there have been so very few instances of scandalous behaviour. The religious concern that persons have been under, has generally been rational and just: arising from a sense of their sins, and 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 it is remarkable, although the concern of many persons has been very great and pressing, yet I have never seen any thing like despair attending it in any one instance: whence it is apparent, there is not that danger of persons being driven into despair under spiritual trouble, (unless in cases of melancholy,) that the world is ready to imagine.

The comfort 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 as they are, a complacency of soul in the divine perfections,—and a peculiar satisfaction in the way of salvation, by the great Redeemer.

*Their joys have seemed to rise from a variety of views of divine things, although for substance the same.

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 way,” a way they had never any just conception of, until opened to them by the divine Spirit. And some of them, upon a 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.

Others have had a more general view of the excellency of Christ, being delighted with an apprehension of his glory, as unspeakably exceeding all they had ever conceived before; yet without singling out (as it were) any one of the divine perfections in particular.

*What the Indians notions of God are, in their Pagan state, is hard to determine. I have taken much pains to enquire 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 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 dark and confused, that they seem 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 shapes. And it is certain 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 these creatures, but that some invisible beings (I cannot learn that it is always one) communicate to these animals a great power, either one or other of them, (just as it happens) 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 another Indian near his house.

But I find, that in ancient times, before the coming of the white people, some supposed there was 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 had a confused notion of a certain body or fountain of deity, somewhat like the anima mundi, so frequently mentioned by the learned Heathens, diffusing itself to various animals, and even to inanimate things, making them the immediate authors of good to certain persons. 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 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. And they suppose their God gained some special skill by seeing the white people made, and so made them better: for they look upon themselves, and their methods of living, (which they say, their god expressly prescribed) as vastly preferable to the white people, and their methods. And hence they will frequently sit and laugh at them as being good for nothing but to 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 than now and then to chase the deer. Hence, many of them look upon it as disgraceful for them to become Christians, as Christians do to become a Pagan: and though 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 original.

*They seem to have some confused notion of a future state, and many of them imagine that the chichang, (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 what they suppose will contribute much to their happiness in that state is, that they shall never be weary of those entertainments.

Some of them have some faint notion of rewards and punishments, or at least of happiness and misery in a future state; others seem to know no such thing. Those that suppose this, imagine that most will ♦be happy, and those that are not so, will be punished only with privation, being excluded the walls of that good world where happy souls shall dwell.

These rewards and punishments they suppose to depend entirely upon their behaviour towards mankind, and not to have any reference to God. I once consulted a very ancient Indian upon this point, 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, further, whether it would be happy there? He answered, after some considerable pause, that the souls of good folks would be happy, and the souls of bad folks miserable. I then asked who he called bad folks? His answer was, those who lie, steal, quarrel with their neighbours, are unkind to their friends, and especially to aged parents, and in a word are but a plague to mankind. These were his bad folks; but not a word was said of their neglect of divine worship, and their badness in that respect.

They have indeed some kind of worship, are frequently offering sacrifices to some invisible powers, and are ready to impute their calamities in the present world, to the neglect of these sacrifices; but there is no appearances 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 anger of their deities, to engage them to do them no hurt, or at most only to invite these powers to succeed them in those enterprises they are engaged in. So that in offering these sacrifices, they seem to have no reference to a future state. And they imagine, that those they call bad folks, are excluded from the company of good people in that state, not so much because God is determined to punish them for their sins of any kind, as because they 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 the invisible powers give them directions therein. They are likewise much attached to the traditions of their fathers, who have informed them of divers miracles anciently wrought. *They also mention some wonderful things which, they say, have happened since the memory of some who are now living. One affirmed to me, that himself had once been dead four days, that most of his friends were gathered together to his funeral, and that he should have been buried, but that some of his relations 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.

What increases their aversion to Christianity is the influence their powwows have upon them. These are supposed to have a power of foretelling future events, of recovering the sick, and of charming persons to death. Probably a satanical imitation of the spirit of prophecy that the church in early ages possessed.

I have laboured to gain some acquaintance with this affair, and have for that end consulted 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, 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 was, *he was admitted into the presence of a great man, 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 cloathed 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 was 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. 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 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 chuse in life. He replied, first to be a hunter, and afterwards to be a powwow 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. After this, he says, he saw the great man no more; but supposes he 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 to direct him in dreams to go to such a place and hunt, assuring him he should 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.

*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. These depths of Satan I leave to others to fathom, and cannot guess what conceptions of things these creatures have at the 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. The case was this; the Indian was bitten with a snake, and was in extreme pain. Whereupon the diviner (who was applied to) told him, that at such a time he had promised, 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.

[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, both parts of the day; and after the public worship, endeavoured to apply divine truths to the consciences of some, addressing them personally: several were in tears, and some appeared much affected. But he was extremely wearied with the service, and was so ill at night, that he could have no rest; but remarks, that “God was his support.” On Monday, he continued very ill; but calm and composed, resigned to the divine dispensations.]

Lord’s-day, June 29. I preached both parts of the day. God was pleased to afford me both freedom and power; in both exercises. 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 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. I spent some time afterwards in conversing particularly, with several persons. I prayed afterwards with a sick child, and gave a word of exhortation, and returned home with more health than I went out; 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 I walked out, and enjoyed a sweet season in secret prayer and praise. Oh, for spirituality and holy fervency, that I might spend and be spent for God to my latest moment!

[On Wednesday he went to Newark, to a meeting of the Presbytery. The remaining part of the week he spent there, and at Elisabeth-Town.]

*Monday, July 7. My spirits were considerably refreshed. There is no comfort, I find, in any enjoyment, without enjoying God, and being engaged in his service. In the evening I 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.

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. God gave me assistance in my discourses, and divine power attended the word; so that this was an agreeable season. Afterwards I 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 was in the midst of us.

Lord’s-day, July 13. I 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 refreshed. 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 shewed 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. In the afternoon I discoursed upon coming to Christ. This was likewise a season of much tenderness. I returned home much spent, yet rejoicing in the goodness of God.

Monday, July 14. I discoursed from Psalms cxix. 106. “I have sworn, and I will perform it,” &c. There appeared to be a powerful 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 owned it by exciting in them a fear and jealousy of themselves, lest they should sin against God.

[The next day, he set out on a journey towards Philadelphia; from whence he did not return till Saturday. He spent the week under great illness of body and dejection of mind.]

Monday, July 21. I preached to the Indians, chiefly for the sake of some strangers. I then proposed my design of taking a journey to Susquahannah: exhorted my people to pray for me, and chose divers persons of the congregation to travel with me.

Monday, July 28. I was very weak, but I enjoyed sweetness and comfort in prayer; and was composed and comfortable through the day: my mind was intense, and my heart fervent in secret duties; and I longed to spend and be spent for God.

Tuesday, July 29. My mind was chearful, and free from those melancholy damps, that I am often exercised with. In the evening I enjoyed a comfortable season in secret prayer, was helped to plead with God for my own dear people: and for the divine presence to attend me in my intended journey to Susquahannah.

Wednesday, July 30. I was uncommonly easy, both in body and mind: my mind was solemn, and God seemed to be near me: so that the day was as comfortable as most I have enjoyed for some time.

*Friday, August 1. In the evening I enjoyed a sweet season in secret prayer; clouds and perplexing cares were sweetly scattered. Oh, how serene was my mind! 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 chuse 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.

Saturday, August 2. I preached from Matthew xi. 19. and the presence of God seemed to be remarkably in the assembly. Blessed be God for such a revival among us. In the evening I was very weary, but found my spirits supported and refreshed.

Friday, August 5. I preached at the funeral of ♦one of my Christians, was oppressed with the head-ach, and considerably dejected: however, I had a little freedom. I was extremely weary in the evening; but notwithstanding enjoyed some liberty in prayer, and found the dejection that I feared, much removed, and my spirits considerably refreshed.

Thursday, August 7. I rode to my house, where I spent the last winter, in order to bring some things I needed for my Susquahannah journey; I was refreshed to see that place, which God so marvellously visited with the showers of his grace. How amazingly did the powers of God appear there! “Bless the Lord, O my soul.”

Saturday, August 9. In the afternoon, I visited my people, and contrived for the management of their worldly business: discoursed to them in a solemn manner, and concluded with prayer. I was composed in the evening, and fervent in secret prayer: had a view of the eternal world, and much serenity of mind. Oh that I could magnify the Lord for any freedom he affords me in prayer!

Monday, August 11. Being about to set out for Susquahannah the next day, I spent some time this day in prayer with my people, that God would bless and succeed my journey; and set up his kingdom among the poor Indians in the wilderness. While I was opening and applying part of the cxth Psalm, the power of God descended on the assembly; numbers were melted, and I found affectionate enlargement of soul. 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;” especially while I insisted upon the promise of all nations blessing the great Redeemer: my soul was refreshed to think, that this glorious season should surely come; and numbers of my dear people were also refreshed. Afterwards I prayed; and had some freedom, but was almost spent: then I walked out, and left my people to carry on religious exercises among themselves: they prayed repeatedly, and sung, while I rested. Afterwards I went to the meeting, prayed with, and dismissed the assembly. Blessed be God, this has been a day of grace.

[The next day he set out on his journey towards Susquahannah, and six of his Christian Indians with him. He took his way through Philadelphia, intending to go to Susquahannah-river, far down, where it is settled by the white people, below the country inhabited by the Indians: and so 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. 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 comfortable state of mind.]

Saturday, August 16. [At Charlestown.] It being a day kept by the people, as preparatory to the Lord’s supper, I tarried, heard Mr. Treat preach; and then preached myself. God 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 in prayer, and Christian conversation.

Monday, August 18. I rode on my way towards Paxton, upon Susquahannah-river, but felt my spirits sink, towards night.

Tuesday, August 19. I rode forward still; and at night lodged by the side of Susquahannah.

Wednesday, August 20. Having lain in a cold sweat all night, I coughed much blood this morning; but I had a secret hope that I might speedily get a dismission from earth, and all its sorrows. I rode this day to one Chambers’s, upon Susquahannah, and there lodged, but was much afflicted, in the evening, with an ungodly crew, drinking and swearing. Oh, what a hell would it be, to be numbered with the ungodly!

Thursday, August 21. I rode up the river about fifteen miles, and there lodged, in a family that appeared quite destitute of God. I laboured to discourse with the man about the life of religion, but found him very artful in evading it. Oh, what a death it is to some, to hear of the things of God!

Friday, August 22. I 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.

Lord’s-day, August 24. Towards noon I visited some of the Delawares, and discoursed with them about Christianity. In the afternoon I discoursed to the King, and others, upon divine things, who seemed disposed to hear. I spent most of the day in these exercises. In the evening I enjoyed some comfort: especially in secret prayer: so that I loved to walk abroad and repeatedly engage in it.

Monday, August 25. I sent out my people to talk with the Indians, and contract a familiarity with them. Some good seemed to be done by their visit this day, and divers appeared willing to hearken to Christianity.

Tuesday, August 26. About noon I discoursed to a considerable number of Indians: I was enabled to speak with much plainness, warmth, and power. The discourse had impression upon some, and made them appear very serious.

Wednesday, August 27. There having been a thick smoak, in the house where I lodged, I was this morning distressed with pains in my head and neck. In the morning the smoak was still the same: and a cold easterly storm gathering, I could neither live within doors nor without long together; I was pierced with the rawness of the air abroad, in the house distressed with the smoak. I this day lived in great distress, and had not health enough to do any thing to purpose.

Thursday, August 28. I was visited by some who desired to hear me preach: and discoursed to them in the afternoon, with some fervency, and laboured to persuade them to turn to God. *I scarce ever saw more clearly, that it is God’s work to convert souls, 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.

Friday, August 29. I 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.

Lord’s-day, August 31. I spake the word of God, to some few of the Susquahannah Indians. In the afternoon, I felt very weak and feeble. Oh, how heavy is my work, when faith cannot take hold of an almighty arm, for the performance of it!

Monday, September 1. I set out on a journey towards a place called The great island, about fifty miles distant from Shaumoking, in the north western branch of Susquahannah. At night I lodged in the woods. I was exceeding feeble, this day, and sweat much the night following.

Tuesday, September 2. I rode forward; but no faster than my people went on foot. 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. I 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.

Wednesday, September 3. I rode to Delaware town; and found divers drinking and drunken. I discoursed with some of the Indians about Christianity; observed my interpreter much engaged in his work; some few persons seemed to hear with great earnestness. About noon I rode to a small town of Shawwannoes, about eight miles distant; spent an hour or two there, and returned to the Delaware town. Oh what ♦a dead, 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 I lay down on a buffalo-skin; but sweat much the whole night.

Thursday, September 4. I discoursed with the Indians about Christianity; my interpreter, afterwards, carrying on the discourse to a considerable length: some few appeared well disposed, and somewhat affected. I left this place, and returned to Shaumoking; and at night lodged in the place where I lodged the Monday night before: but my people being belated did not come to me till past ten at night; so that I had no fire to dress any victuals, or to keep me warm; and I was ♦scarce ever more weak and worn out in my life.

Friday, September 5. I was so weak, that I could scarcely ride: it seemed sometimes as if I must fall off from my horse: however, I got to Shaumoking towards night, and felt thankfulness, that God had so far returned me.

Saturday, September 6. I spent the day in a very weak state; coughing and spitting blood, and having little appetite to any food I had with me: I was able to do very little, except discourse awhile of divine things to my own people, and to some few I met with.

Monday, September 8. I spent the forenoon among the Indians; in the afternoon, left Shaumoking, and returned down the river a few miles. I had proposed to have tarried a considerable time longer among the Indians upon Susquahannah; but was hindered by the weakly circumstances of my own people, 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 destitute of the comforts, yea the 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 power, and divine truths made some impression 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. Yet God at times, was evidently present, assisting me, my interpreter, and other dear friends who were with me in prayer for the ingathering of souls there; and I could not but entertain a strong hope, that the journey would not be wholly fruitless.

Tuesday, September 9. I rode down the river, near thirty miles, was extreme weak, much fatigued, and wet with a thunder storm. I discoursed with some warmth and closeness to some poor ignorant souls, on the life and power of religion. 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 more 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, mistaken for true religion.

Wednesday, September 10. I rode near twenty miles homeward; and was much solicited to preach, but was utterly unable. I was extremely over done with the heat and showers, and coughed up considerable quantities of blood.

Thursday, September 11. I rode homeward: but was very weak, and sometimes scarce able to ride, I had a very importunate invitation to preach at a meeting house I came by, but could not by reason of weakness. I was resigned under my weakness; but was much exercised for my companions in travel, whom I had left with much regret, some lame, and some sick.

Friday, September 12. I rode about fifty miles; and came just at night to a Christian friend’s house, about twenty-five miles westward of Philadelphia. I was kindly entertained, and found myself much refreshed in the midst of my weakness and fatigues.

Lord’s-day, September 14. I preached both parts of the day (but short) from Luke xiv. 23. God gave me freedom and warmth in my discourse; and helped me to labour in singleness of heart. I 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 but that “the will of God might be done.”

Wednesday, September 17. I rode into Philadelphia, but was very weak, and my cough and my spitting of blood continued.

Saturday, September 20. I arrived among my own people: found them praying together: went in, and gave them some account of God’s dealings with me and my companions in the journey. I then prayed with them, and the divine presence was among us; divers were melted into tears. Being very weak, I was obliged soon to repair to my lodgings. Thus God has carried me through the fatigues and perils of another journey to Susquahannah, and returned me again in safety, though under a great degree of bodily indisposition. Many hardships and distresses I endured in this journey: but the Lord supported me under them all.

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PART VIII.

After his return from his last journey to Susquahannah, until his death.

[HITHERTO Mr. Brainerd had kept a constant diary, giving an account of what passed from day to day: but henceforward his diary is much interrupted by his illness; under which he was often brought so low, as not to be able to ♦recollect in the evening, what had passed in the day, and set down an orderly account of it in writing. However he took some notice of the most material things concerning himself, ’till within a few days of his death.]

*Lord’s-day, September 21, 1746. I was so weak I could not preach, nor ride over to my people in the forenoon. In the afternoon I rode out; sat in my chair, and discoursed to my people from Romans xiv. 7, 8. I was ♦strengthened 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 was able to sleep little, through weariness and pain. Oh, how blessed should I be, if the little I do, were all done with right views!

Saturday, September 27. I spent this as the week past, under a great degree of bodily weakness, exercised with a violent cough, and a considerable fever; had no appetite to any kind of food; and frequently brought up what I ate, as soon as it was down: 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 Indians¹. I was sometimes scarce able to walk, and never able to sit up the whole day. Yet I was calm and composed, and but little exercised with melancholy, as in former seasons. It 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 would live or die. 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, September 28. I rode to my people; and, though under much weakness, discoursed about half an hour; at which season divine power seemed to attend the word; but being extreme 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 after preaching: but this was the most 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.

Tuesday, September 30. Yesterday and to-day I was scarce able to sit up half the day. But ♦I was in a composed frame remarkably free from dejection and melancholy; as God has been pleased to deliver me from these unhappy glooms, in the general course of my present weakness, and also from a peevish spirit. Oh that I may always be able to say, “Lord, not my will, but thine be done!”

Saturday, October 4. I spent the former part of this week under a great degree of 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, and took some care daily of persons at work upon my house. On Friday afternoon I found myself wonderfully revived and strengthened; and having some time before given notice to my people, and those at the Forks of Delaware in particular, that I designed, to administer the sacrament of the Lord’s supper upon the first sabbath in October: on Friday afternoon I preached preparatory to the sacrament, from 2 Corinthians xiii. 5. 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, as I could not well have lived without. I spent some time on Friday night in conversing with my people as I lay upon my bed; and found my soul refreshed. This being Saturday, I discoursed particularly with divers of the communicants; and this afternoon preached from Zechariah xii. 10. There seemed to be a tender melting, and hearty mourning for sin in the congregation. My soul was in a comfortable frame, and I was myself, as well as most of the congregation, much affected with the humble confession, and apparent broken-heartedness of a backslider; and could not but rejoice, that God had given him such a sense of his sin and unworthiness. I was extremely tired in the evening; but lay on my bed, and discoursed to my people.

*Lord’s-day, October 5. I was still very weak; and in the morning afraid I should not be able to go through the work of the day. I discoursed before the administration of the sacrament from John i. 29. “Behold the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of the world.”—The divine presence attended this discourse; and the assembly was considerably melted. After sermon I baptized two persons, and then administered the Lord’s supper to near forty communicants of the Indians, besides divers dear Christians of the white people. It was a season of divine power and grace; and numbers rejoiced in God. Oh, the sweet union and harmony then appearing among the religious people! My soul was refreshed, and my friends, of the white people, with me. After the sacrament I could scarcely get home; but was supported by my friends, and laid on my bed; where I lay in pain till the evening; and then was able to sit up and discourse with my 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.

*Saturday, October 11. Towards night I was seized with an ague, which was followed with a hard fever, and much pain: I was treated with great kindness and was ashamed to see so much concern about so unworthy a creature. I 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 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 unable to perform my work. Oh how precious is time! And how guilty it makes me feel, when I think I have trifled away and misemployed it, or neglected to fill up each part of it with duty, to the utmost of my ability!

October 19. I was willing either to die or live; but found it hard to think 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!

Friday, October 24. I spent the day in overseeing and directing my people about mending their fence, and securing their wheat. I 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, October 25. I 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 of blood.

Lord’s-day, October 26. In the morning I was exceeding weak, and spent the day till near night, in pain to see my poor people wandering as sheep not having a shepherd. But towards night finding myself a little better, I called them together to my house and sat down, and read and expounded Matthew v. 1‒16. This discourse, though delivered in much weakness, was attended with power; 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. As many were deeply affected with a sense of their deficiency, in regard of spiritual conversation, and a spirit of concern and watchfulness seemed to be excited in them; so there was one that had fallen into drunkenness, sometime before, who was now deeply convinced of his sin, and discovered a great degree of 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.

Monday, October 27. I spent the day in directing the Indians, about mending the fence round their wheat: and was able to walk with them, and contrive their business all the forenoon. In the afternoon I 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.

October 28. I 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 I was visited by Mr. Treat, Mr. Beaty, and his wife, and another friend: my spirits were refreshed to see them: but I was surprized, and even ashamed, that they had taken so much pains as to ride thirty or forty miles to see me.

Saturday, November 1. I took leave of my friends and returned home.

Lord’s-day, November 2. I was unable to preach and scarcely able to sit up the whole day. I was almost sunk, to see my poor people destitute of the means of grace; and especially considering they could not read, and so were under great disadvantages for spending the sabbath comfortably. Oh, methought, I could be contented to be sick, if my poor flock had a faithful pastor to feed them. A view of their want of this was more afflictive to me, than all my bodily illness.

Monday, November 3. Being now in so low a state, that I was utterly uncapable of performing my work, and having little hope of recovery, unless by much riding, I thought it my duty to take a journey into New-England, I 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, as I thought most suitable for their circumstances, and found great freedom in so doing: I scarce left one house but some were in tears, not only affected with my being about to leave them, but with the solemn addresses I made; for I was helped to be fervent in spirit. 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 rode about two miles, to the house where I lived in the summer past, and there lodged.

Tuesday, November 4. I rode to Woodbridge, and lodged with Mr. Pierson.

Wednesday, November 5. I rode to Elisabeth-Town, intending as soon as possible to prosecute my journey. But I was in an hour or two taken much worse.—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.

I was enabled to maintain a calm, composed, and patient spirit, as I had from the beginning of my weakness. After I had been in Elisabeth-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 recount the mercies of God, in such a manner as greatly affected me, and filled me with thankfulness to God; especially for his work of grace among the Indians, and the enlargement of his kingdom. “Lord, glorify thyself,” was the cry of my soul. Oh that all people might love and praise the blessed God!

After this comfortable season, I frequently enjoyed enlargement of soul in prayer for my dear congregation, very often for every family, and every person in particular; and it was a great comfort to me, that I could pray heartily to God for those whom I was not allowed to see.

In the latter end of December, I grew still weaker, and continued to do so, till the latter end of January 1746‒7. And having a violent cough, a considerable fever, and no appetite for any manner of food, I was reduced to so low a state, that my friends generally despaired of my life; and for some time together, thought I could scarce live a day to an end.

On Lord’s-day, February 1. “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 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 life in the exercises of devotion, and longings after spirituality and a life of usefulness.

On Tuesday, February 24. I was able to ride as far as Newark, (having been confined within Elisabeth-Town almost four months,) and the next day returned to Elisabeth-Town. My spirits were somewhat refreshed with the ride, though my body was weary.

On Saturday, February 28. I was visited by an Indian of my own congregation, who brought me letters, and good news of the behaviour of my people in general. This refreshed my soul, I could not but retire and bless God for his goodness.

Wednesday, March 11, being kept in Elisabeth-Town ♦as a day of fasting and prayer, I was able to attend public worship, which was the first time since December 21. Oh, how much 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 to his glory!

Thursday, March 18. I rode to my people: and on Friday morning walked about among them and inquired into their state and concerns; and found an additional weight on my spirits upon hearing some things disagreeable. I endeavoured to go to God with my distresses: 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, 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 Elisabeth-Town.]

Saturday, March 28. I was taken this morning with a violent griping. These pains were extreme and constant, for several hours: so that it seemed impossible for me, without a miracle, to live twenty-four hours. I lay confined to my bed, the whole day: but it pleased God to bless means for the abatement of my distress. I was exceedingly weakened by this pain, and continued so for several days following. In this distressed case, death appeared agreeable to me: as an entrance into a place “where the weary are at rest;” and, 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. I was uneasy, by reason of the misemployment of time: and yet knew not what to do: I longed to spend time in fasting and prayer; but alas, I had not bodily strength! Oh, how blessed a thing is it, to enjoy peace of conscience! How dreadful is a want of inward peace! 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 I saw so excellent! I was ready to despair of ever being holy; 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. The Lord’s supper being this day administered, in the season of communion, I enjoyed warmth of affection, and felt a tender love to the brethren; and, 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 favours for my friends and congregation, and the church of Christ in general.

Friday, April 17. In the evening, God helped me to “draw near to the throne of grace,” and gave me a sense of his favour, which gave me inexpressible support and encouragement; I 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 the divine goodness.

Tuesday, April 21. I set out on my journey for New-England; I 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.]

Lord’s-day, May 10. (At Had-Lime) I could not but feel gratitude to God, that he had always disposed me, in my ministry, to insist on the great doctrines of regeneration, a 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 has helped me to see, from time to time, that these, and the like doctrines, 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 God; this, I saw, would stand by the soul in a dying hour; for God must deny himself, if he cast away his own image, even the soul that is one in desires with himself.

Lord’s-day, May 17. Though I felt much dulness this week; yet I had some glimpses of the excellency of divine things; and especially one morning, the beauty of holiness, as a likeness to the glorious God, was so discovered to me, that I longed earnestly to be in that world where holiness dwells in perfection, that I might please God, live entirely to him, and glorify him to the utmost stretch of my capacities.

*Lord’s-day. May 24. (At Long-Meadow in Springfield) I 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 want of holiness, than most who are called Christians imagine.

[On Thursday, May 28. He came from Long-Meadow to Northampton, appearing vastly better than he had been in the winter; indeed so well, that he was able to ride twenty-five miles in a day, and to walk half a mile; but yet he was undoubtedly, at that time, in a confirmed, incurable consumption.

*I had much opportunity before this, of particular information concerning him, 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; appearing meek, modest, and humble, far from any stiffness, moroseness, superstitious demureness, or affected singularity in speech or behaviour. We enjoyed not only the benefit of his conversation, but had the comfort of hearing him pray in the family, from time to time. His manner of praying was 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; 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, free 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, deeply impressed with a great and solemn sense of our necessities, unworthiness, and dependence, of God’s infinite greatness, excellency, and sufficiency, rather than merely from a warm and fruitful brain. 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.”]

[This week he consulted Dr. Mather, at my house, concerning his illness; who plainly told him 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, nor to make any alteration as to the freedom or pleasantness of his conversation.]

*Lord’s-day, June 7. My soul was so drawn forth, this day, by what I heard of the “exceeding preciousness of the grace of God’s Spirit,” that it almost overcame my body: 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.

In the preceeding week, I enjoyed some comfortable seasons of meditation. One morning the cause of God appeared exceeding precious to me: I saw also, that God has an infinitely greater 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.”

[He was advised by physicians still to continue riding as what would tend to prolong his life. He was at a loss for some time which way to bend his course; but finally determined to ride to Boston; we having concluded that one of this family should go with him and be helpful to him in his low state.]

Tuesday, June 9. I set out on a journey from Northampton to Boston.

Having now continued to ride for some considerable time, I felt myself much better, and I found that in proportion to the prospect I had of being restored to a state of usefulness, 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 fully resigned 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. There is no rest but in God; fatigues of body, and anxieties of mind, attend us, both in town and country.

On Thursday, June 18. I was taken exceeding ill, and brought to the gates of death, by the breaking of some small ulcers in my lungs, as my physician supposed. In this weak state I continued several weeks, and was frequently so low, as to be utterly speechless; and even after I had so far revived as 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 could say Yes or No, yet I could not 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.

How I was, the first day or two of my illness, with regard to the exercise of reason, I scarcely know; but the third day, 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, and I never felt so capable of demonstrating the truth of many important doctrines of the gospel as now.

As God was pleased to afford me clearness of thought almost continually, for several weeks together; so he enabled me in some measure, to employ my time to valuable purposes. I was enabled to write a number of important letters, to friends in remote places; and sometimes I wrote I was speechless, i. e. unable to maintain conversation with any body.—*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 assisted in distinguishing between true and false religion. 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; because so little is said from most pulpits to discover any danger here: so that persons being never effectually brought to die to themselves, are never truly united to Christ. I also discoursed much on what I take to be the essence of true religion, 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 pattern. And I have reason to hope God blessed my discoursing to some, both ministers and people; so that my time was not wholly lost.

[Also the honourable Commissioners in Boston, of the incorporated society in London for ♦propagating the gospel in New-England, and parts adjacent, having a legacy of the late Dr. Daniel Williams of London, for the support of two missionaries to the Heathen, were pleased, while he was at Boston, to consult him about a mission to those Indians called the Six Nations; and were so satisfied with his sentiments on this head, and had that confidence in his faithfulness, and judgment, that they desired him to recommend a couple of persons fit to be employed in this business.

Mr. Brainerd’s restoration from his extreme 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 of 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. Yesterday he was better upon all accounts. Last night he slept but little. This morning he is much worse.――Dr. Pynchon says, he has no hopes of his life; nor does he think it likely he will ever come out of his chamber.”

His physician, the honourable Joseph Pynchon, Esq. when he visited him in Boston, attributed his sinking so suddenly into a state so nigh unto death, to the breaking of ulcers, that had been long gathering in his lungs, and there discharging and diffusing their purulent matter; which, while nature was labouring and struggling to throw off, (that could be done no otherwise, than by a gradual straining of it through the small vessels of those vital parts,) this occasioned an high fever and violent coughing, and threw the whole frame of nature into the utmost disorder; but supposed if the state of nature held till the lungs had gradually cleared themselves of this putrid matter, he might revive, and continue better, till new ulcers gathered and broke; but then he would surely sink again; and that there was no hope of his recovery; but (as he expressed himself to one of my neighbours) he was as certainly a dead man, as if he was shot through the heart.

But so it was ordered by divine Providence, that the strength of nature held out through this great conflict, 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, came to Boston to see him.

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 tidings of his sister Spencer’s death at Haddam: a sister, between whom and him had long subsisted a peculiar dear affection, and much intimacy in spiritual matters. He had heard nothing of her sickness. But he had these comforts together with the tidings, a confidence of her being gone to heaven, and an expectation of 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 at Boston, he writes in his diary as follows.]

Lord’s-day, July 19. I was just able to attend public worship, being carried to the house of God in a chaise. I heard Dr. Sewall preach in the forenoon; partook of the Lord’s supper at this time. In the sacrament, I saw astonishing wisdom displayed; such wisdom as 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.”

[The next day he set out in the cool of the afternoon, for 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, had not his aversion to any thing of pomp and shew prevented it.]

Saturday, July 25. I arrived at Northampton, having set out from Boston on Monday. In this journey, I rode about sixteen miles a day, one day with another. I was sometimes extremely tired, 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 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 by men or angels, and I should still be miserable for ever.

Though he had revived, so 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 had several such ill turns before, only not to so high a degree, but as he supposed owing to the same cause; and that he was brought lower and lower every time; and it appeared to him, that in his last sickness (in Boston) he was brought as low as possible, and yet alive; and that he had not the least expectation of surviving the next return of this breaking of ulcers; but still appeared perfectly calm.

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.

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 sensibly decayed, and became weaker and weaker.

*While he was here, his conversation from first to last was much on the same subjects as it had been in Boston. He was much in speaking of the nature of true religion, as distinguished from its various counterfeits; expressing his great concern, that the latter did so much prevail in so many places. He often manifested his great abhorrence of all such doctrines and principles, as in any wise savoured of, and had any (though but a remote) 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, under a pretence of depreciating our works, and magnifying God’s free grace. He spake often with much detestation, of such discoveries and joys as have nothing of the nature of sanctification in them, and do not tend to strictness, tenderness, and diligence in religion, and meekness and benevolence toward mankind: and he also declared, that he looked on such pretended humility as worthy of no regard, that was not manifested by modesty of conduct and conversation.

*After he came hither, as long as he lived, he was much in speaking of the future prosperity of Zion that is so often promised in scripture: and his mind seemed to be carried forth with intense desires, that religion might speedily revive and flourish; yea, the nearer death advanced, 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 as his dying advice to his own congregation, that they should practise agreeably to that proposal.¹

*Though he was exceeding weak, yet there appeared in him a continual care well to employ time, and fill it up with something that might be profitable; 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 a 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.

In his diary for Lord’s-day, August 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 were remarkably restored.――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; 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, August 23. This morning I was considerably refreshed with the thought, yea, the 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. I was unable to attend public worship: but God was pleased to afford me satisfaction in divine thoughts. Nothing so refreshes my soul, as when I can go to God, yea, to God my exceeding joy.

*In this week past, I had divers turns of inward refreshing, though my body was inexpressibly weak. Sometimes my soul centered 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.

[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, August 28, was the last time he ever went above stairs, henceforward he betook himself to a lower room.

On Wednesday, September 2. Being the day of our public lecture, he seemed to be refreshed with seeing the neighbouring ministers, and expressed a great desire once more to go to the house of God: and accordingly rode to the meeting, and attended divine service, while the Rev. 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. He was much refreshed by this unexpected visit, this brother being peculiarly dear to him: and he seemed to rejoice in a devout manner, to see him, and to hear the comfortable tidings he brought concerning the state of his dear Indians: and a circumstance of this visit, that he was exceeding glad of, 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, September 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, September 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 by-standers then of the only happiness, viz. pleasing God. Oh that I could 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, September 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 swell, which thenceforward swelled more and more. A symptom of his dissolution coming on.

The next day his brother left him, being obliged to return to New-Jersey on some business of great importance, 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 the important affair before-mentioned, left with him by the honourable commissioners in Boston, viz. the recommending 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 Mr. Elihu Spencer of East-Haddam, and Mr. Job Strong of Northampton. The commissioners on the receipt of this letter, unanimously agreed to accept of the persons he had recommended.

He also this week, wrote a letter to a gentleman in Boston, relating to the growth of the Indian school, and the need of another school-master. The gentlemen, on the receipt of this letter, had a meeting, and agreed with chearfulness to give 200l. (in bills of the old tenor) for the support of another school-master; and desired the Rev. Mr. Pemberton of New-York, 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.

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 (September 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 diarrhea; 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 new symptoms of his dissolution, he was so far from being damped, that he seemed to be animated; as being glad at the appearances 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 was much in talking about it, and also settling all his affairs, very particularly and minutely giving directions concerning what he would have done. And the nearer death approached, the more desirous he seemed to be of it. He several times spake of the different kinds of willingness to die; and spoke of it as a mean kind of willingness to die, to be willing to leave the body only to get rid of pain.]

*Saturday, September 19. 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, lively and active.” To which my 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, and 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 out 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! 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, as long as he pleased. 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!――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.

*[In the evening, 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 many other extraordinary expressions, were 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; this is my religion, and that is my happiness, and always was, ever since 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 a 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 done no more for him.――There is nothing in the world worth living for, but doing good and finishing God’s work. 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 pathetic counsels to those that 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 of true piety, and its great importance; earnestly warning them not to rest in any thing short of that true and thorough change of heart, and a life devoted to God; counselling 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 shall I be buried, and here you will see my grave, and do you remember what I have said to you. I am going into 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 when I was alive; then think with yourself how the man that lies in that grave, counselled and warned me to prepare for death.”

His body seemed to be marvelously strengthened, through the inward vigour of his mind; so that, although before he was so weak he could hardly utter a sentence, yet now he continued his most affecting discourse 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.”

[It appears by what is noted in his diary, both of this day and the evening preceeding, that his mind was at this time 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 assistance in this work; and 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, and had been prosecuting his studies there, to the end that he might be fitted for the work of the ministry, and was now with him. He now, and from time to time, 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, *“When ministers feel these gracious influences on their hearts, it wonderfully assists them to come at the consciences of men, and as it were to handle them with their hands; whereas, without them, whatever reason and oratory we make use of, we do but make use of stumps instead of hands.”]

Monday, September 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 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, September 22. I 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 my time.

Wednesday, September 23. I finished my corrections of the little piece forementioned, 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!

Friday, September 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. 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.”¹

September 27. He felt an unusual appetite to food; with which his mind seemed to be exhilarated, as a sign of the very near approach of death. He said upon it, “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 the chariot so long in coming? why tarry the wheels of his chariot? 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. 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 loose from all the world, as having done his work, and done with all things here below, having nothing to do but to die, and abiding in an earnest desire and expectation of the happy moment, when his soul should take its flight, and go to a state of perfection, of holiness, and perfect glorying 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.” He from time to time spake of his being willing to leave the body and the world immediately, if it was the will of God. He also was much in expressing his longing 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. He said to me, one morning, “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 once told me, that “he had formerly longed for the out-pouring 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 death-bed 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 to his mind.

He also still dwelt much on the great importance of the work of ministers; and expressed his longings, that they might be filled with the Spirit of God; and manifested much desire to see some of the neighbouring ministers, whom he had some acquaintance with, 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, and that he spake of, from time to time, in these near approaches of death, was the spiritual prosperity of his own congregation: 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 the opportunity he had in Boston, with so many considerable persons, ministers, and others, to give in his testimony for God, and against false religion; and there to lay before charitable gentlemen, the state of the Indians, to so good effect; and that God had since given him an opportunity to write to them farther 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 also mentioned it as what he accounted a merciful circumstance of his death, that he should die here. 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, September 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 declining 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 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 death. He was almost speechless, but his lips appeared to move: and one that sat very near him, heard him utter, “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 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 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, September 29, as he lay in his bed, his mind seemed greatly engaged concerning the prosperity of Zion: there being present at that time two 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 him, and gave him new strength; so that, though before he could scarce speak at all, now he proceeded, with some freedom of speech, to give his dying counsels to those two young gentlemen, relating to the great work of the ministry they were designed for. In particular, he 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 his 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, September 30. I was obliged to keep my bed the whole day, through weakness. However I redeemed a little time, and with the help of my brother, read and corrected about a dozen pages in my M. S. giving an account of my conversion.

Friday, October 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, and my absent brother, and all my concerns for time and eternity. Oh that his kingdom might come into the world; that they might all love and glorify him; and that the blessed Redeemer might “see of the travail of his soul, and be satisfied! Oh, come, Lord Jesus, come quickly! Amen.”¹

[The next evening we much expected his brother John from New-Jersey; it being about a week after the time that he proposed for his return. And though our expectations were still disappointed; yet Mr. Brainerd seemed to continue unmoved, in the same calm 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, October 4, as my daughter Jerusha (who chiefly tended 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 an happy eternity together!”¹ In the evening, as one came into the room with a bible in her hand, he said, “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 apparently preyed on his vitals: 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 great inward pain and distress.

On Thursday, October 6, he lay for a considerable time, as if he was 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 be in glory.—I shall soon glorify God with the angels.”—But after some time he revived.

The next day, viz. Wednesday, October 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. Mr. Brainerd was 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, October 8. He told me it was impossible for anyone to conceive the distress he felt in his breast. He manifested much concern lest he should dishonour God by impatience. He desired that others would be much in lifting up their hearts to God for him. 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 Rev. Mr. Billing, one of the neighbouring Ministers, concerning the great importance of the work of the ministry. And afterwards, when it was very late in the night, he had much 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 distresses 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 what 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 immoveable, till about six o’clock in the morning, and then expired, on Friday, October 9, 1747, when his soul was received by his dear Lord and Master, as an eminently faithful servant, into a state of perfection of holiness, and fruition of God, which he had so often and so ardently longed for.

Much respect was shewn 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, seventeen other gentlemen of liberal education, and a great concourse of people.]

The End of the Twelfth Volume.

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