Vanderpool & Cole, Printers.

CONTENTS.

Pa»e

Advertisement by the Editor 3

Pemberton's Sermon 9

Preface 27

CHAPTER I.

From his birth to the time when he began to study for the ministry 33

CHAPTER n.

From about the time when he began the study of Theology to his Licensure 52

CHAPTER HI.

From bis Licensure, till his examination and Commission as a Missionary 07

CHAPTER IV.

From the time of his examination and Commission as a Missionary, to his entrance on his Mission - among the Indians at , Kaunaumeek 19

CHAPTER V.

From the commencement of his labours at Kaunaumeek to his ordination 91

CHAPTER VI.

From his ordination to the commencement of his labours at Crossweeksung 143

CHAPTER VII.

From the commencement of his residence at Crossweekstingy to the close of the first part of his .Toumal - - - 194

CHAPTER Vlll.

From the close of the first part of his « Jouexal," Nov. 5, 1745, to the 19th of June, 1746 ; when the second part of his Journal terminated. This, and the preceding chapter, occupy one year—the most interesting year of Brainerd's Life - 244

CHAPTER IX.

General remarks on the preceding narrative of a work of grace at Ciosswceksung. I. On the Doctrines preached to the Indians. II. On tiie Moral Effects of preaching Christ crucified.

III. On the (Continuance, Renewal and Quickness of the work.

IV. On the little appearance of False Religion - - 30J>

CHAPTER X.

General remarks on the work of grace at Crossweeksung continued—Introduction—Method of Learning the Indian Language—Method of Instructing the Indians—DiflSculties in the way in converting them to Christianity—Attestations of neighbouring Ministers, Elders, and Deacons to the display of Divine grace at Crossweeksung - - - 321

CHAPTER XL

From the close of his Journal, June 19,1746, to the termination of his Missionary labours, March 20,1747 - - 352

CHAPTER XH.

From the termination of his Missionary labours to his death 378

CHAPTER XHL

Reflections on the preceding Memoirs - - - - 414 Funeral Sermon --^ 453

ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR.

About the year 1740, several distinguished ministers in the city of New York and its vicinity; and among them. Rev. Ebenezer Pembektoh, of New York; Rev. Aaron Burr, of Newark; and Rev. Jonatran Dickis-SOH, of Elizabethtown ; communicated to the *^ Society in Scotland for Propagating Christian Knowledge," *^ the deplorable and perishing state of Uie Indians in the provinces of New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania."

In consequence of this representation, the Society charitably and cheerfully agreed to the proposal of maintaining two mifnonariu among them, to conveil them to Christianity; and in pursuance of this design sent those gentlemen, and some others—^both clergymen and laymen, -a Commission to act as their Commissioners^ or Correspondents^ "in providing, directing, and inspecting the said Mission."

" As soon as the Correspondentp received their commission," to use their own language, "they immediately looked out for two candidates for the ministry, whose zeal for the interests of the Redeemer's kingdom, and whnse compassion for perishing souls would prompt them to such an exceedingly difficult and self-denying undertaking. They first prevailed with Mr. Azariah Hortoit to relinquish a call to an encouraging parish, and to devote himself to the Indian service. He was directed to Long Island in August, 1741, at the east end of which there are two small towns of Indians ; and, from the eas^t to the weet end of the island, lesser companies settled at a few miles distance from one another, for the distance of more than a hundred miles. At his first arrival, he was well received by most, and cordially welcomed by some of them. Those at the east end of the Island, especially, gave diligent and serious attention to his instructions ; and many of them were led to ask the solemn inquiry, " What they should do to be saved ?" A general reformation of manners was soon observable among most of these Indians. They were careful to attend, and serious and solemn while attending, upon both public and private instructions. A number of them were under very deep convictions of their miserable, perishing state ; and about twenty of them give lasting evidences of their saving conversion to God. Mr. HoRToir has baptized thirty-Jive adults, and forty-four children. He took pains with them to teach them to read : and some of them have made considerable proficiency. But the extensiveness of his charge, and the necessity of his travelling from place to place, renders him incapable of giving so constant an attendance to their instruction in reading^, as is necessary. In his last letter to the Correspondents, he heavily complains of a great defection of some of them from their first reformation and care of their souls; occusioned by strong drink being brought among them, and their being thereby allured to relapse into their darling vice of drunkenness. This is a vice to which the Indians are everywhere so greatly addicted, and so vehemently disposed, that nothing bat the power of divine grace can restrain that impetous lust, when they have oppoKunity to gratify it. He likewise complains, that some of them hava grown more careless and remiss in the duties of religious worship, than they

were when first acquainted with the gpreat things of eternal peace. But, as a number retain their first impressions, and as they generally attend with reverence upon his ministry, he goes on with his work with encouraging hopes of the presence and blessing of God with him in this difficult undertaking."

With the subsequent labours and success of Mr. Horton the Editor is unacquainted ; not having been able to ascertain how long he was employed as a Missionary ; or whether his Diary was ever published.

** It was some time after this, before the Correspondents could obtain another Missionary. At length they prevailed with Mr. David Brainerd to refuse several invitations to places, where he had a promising prospect of a comfort* able settlement, to encounter the fatigues and perils which must attend his carrying the Gospel of Christ to these poor, miserable savages."*

David Brainerd, the subject of the ensuing Life, and author of the Diary incorporated with it, was examined and approved as a Missionary, at the city of New York, by the Correspondents of the Society m Scotland for Propagating Christian Knowledge, Nov. 25, 1742.

The field of Missionary labour, originally proposed for him by the Correspondents, was among the Indians living near the Forks of Delaware in Pennsylvania, and the Indians farther westward on the Susquehanuah. Owing to some contention subsisting, at the time of his appointment, between Uiese Indians and the whites, concerning their lands, the Correspondents concluded to defer his mission among them until harmony was restored ; and having received intelligence from the Rev. Mr. Skroeakt. Missionary to the Indians at Stock-' bridge, Massachusetts, that the existing state of the Indians at Kaunaumeek, a place in the woods between Stockbridge and Albany, proiiiised success to the labours of a Missionary ; they selected that as his first station. His labours at Kaunaumeekcommenced April 1. 1743, and continued one year; when he prevailed on th^ Indians at that place to remove to Stockbridge and attend on the Rev. Mr. Sergeant's ministry.

Brainerd was ordained as a Missionary at Newark, N. J.« June the 12th 1744; and on the 22d of the same rponth, entered on his labours at Sakkauwo-tung\ within the Forks of Delaware,

On the 5th of October, 1744, he visited, for the first time, the Indians on the Susquehanuah, and commenced his labours at a placed called Opeholhaupung,

On the 19th of June, 1745, he began to preach to the Indians at brossweeksujig^ R place about twenty miles west of Amboy in New Jersey, and the scene of his greatest success. It is now called Crosswecks^ and is on the road from Amboy to Bordentown.

On the 3d of May, 1746, he removed from that place, with the whole body of the Indians, to a place called Cranberry^ fiftecfi miles from Crossweeksung. At these places he continued to reside until March 20, 1747; when, owing to the ravages of a pulmonary consumption, brought on by his exposures and hardships, his labours as a Missionary were terminated and he bade farewell to his beloved Church, and people a< Cranberry,

The first communication made by him to the Correspondents, was in a letter to the Rev. Mr. Pkmberton, of Nov. 5, 1744 ; giving a succinct account of his residence at Kaunaumeek. and of the commencement of his labours of Sakhaw Vfotung and Opeholhaupung, Afler this he regularly forwarded to them a copy of his Diary. They published extracts from his Diary, in two parts or numbers, with some variations in the titles. The First part, commencing with his residence at Crossweeksung^ June 19th, 1745, and reaching to Nov. 4th, 1745 ; was published early in the following year; and was entitled,

" Mirabilia Dei inter Indices; Or the Rise and Progress of a remarkable Work of Grace, Among a number of Inclians, In the Provinces of New Jersey and Penns} Ivania;

~i - -

* These extracts are from the Preface of the Corresponilents to Bramerd's Letter to Pemberton*

ABVEBTISEMBNT. VU

Justly represented in a Jovrjtal. kept by order of the Honourable Society in Scotland for Propagating Christian Knowledge; with some General Remarks;

By David Brainbrd,

Minister of the Gospel, and Missionary from the said Society:

Pablished by the Reverend and worthy Correspondents o^ the said Society;

with a Preface by them." The Second part, extending from Nov 24th, 1745, to June 19th 1746, was published in the latter part of that year; and was entitled

'* Divine Grace Displayed ; Or the Continuance and Progress of a remarkable Work of Grace

Among some of the Indians

Belonging to the Provinces of New Jersey and Pennsylvania;

Justly represented in a Journal kept by order of the Honourable Society in

Scotland for Propagating Christian Knowledge; with some General Remarks; To which is subjoined an Appendix, containing some account of sundry things, and especially of the Difficulties attending the Work of a Missionary among the Indians:

Bt David Brainbrd, . Minister of the Gospel, and Missionary from the said Society: Published by the Reverend and worthy Correspondents of the said Society."' These two parts have always been called ** Brainerd^s Journal ;" and were published during his life.

Brainerd died at the house of the Rev. Joitathait Edwards, of Northampton, Oct. 9th, 1747 ; leaving all his papers in the hands of that gentleman, *•* that he might dispose of them as he thought would be most for G^'s glory, and the interest of.Religion." Of these, the most valuable was the Account of his early life and the original copy of his Diary. From these materials, Mr. Edwards prepared a Life of Brainerd, an 8vo volume of 316 pages; which was published at Boston in 1749, with the following title;

" An Account of the Life Of the Late Rev. David Brainerd Missionary to the Indians, From the Hon. Society in Scotland for the Propagation of

Christian Knowledge;

And Pastor of a Church of Christian Indians in New Jersey;

Who died at Northampton, October 9th, 1747,

In the 30th year of his age :

Chiefly taken from his own Diary, and other private writings, written

for his own u^e ; and now published. By Jonathan Edwards, A. M. Minister of the Gospel at Northampton." It has been the intention of the Editor, to render this volume, as a Memoir of Braiiterd, complete. It contains the whole of the Life and Diary including the Journal, together with a I his letters, and other writings (so far as they are known to the Editor) and the concluding Reflections on his Memoirs, by President Edwards; all arranged in a regular series, according to the order of events. In addition to these, it contains two letters of John Brainerd and the Sermons of Pehbbrton and Edwards ; both of uncommon excellence.

The Diary of Brainerd, a single point only excepted, is probably the best manual of Christian experience, ever yet published. The exception arises from the fact, that the native temperament of Brainerd^s mind inclined him to me-lancholy. This, his biographer, and himself, towards the close of life, regarded as a serious unhappiness, not to say defect, in his character. If the requisite allowance be made for this constitutional infirmity, the diary will prove altogether useful to the private Christian. As an example of a mind tremulously apprehensive of sin, loathing it in every form, and for its own sake, avoiding even the appearance of evil, rising above all terrestrial considerations, advancing rapidly in holiness, and finding its only enjoyment in the glory of God; probably no similar word in any language, can furnish a parallel.

In the Reflections on the Memoirs of Brainerd, as in a clear transparent mirror, the reader if he is not voluntarily blind, will discover the true character

of his own heart. The narratire of conyeniont, dariDg the long; Pentecost season at Crosnpiektwufi while it cannot fail to delig^ht and animate Uie real Christian, will satisfy every mind open to cooTiction, that the Doctrines (here taaght were tau«;ht by the Apostles; and will teach erery Minister, that to preach Christ Crucified is the only way to secare the co-operation of the Holy Spirit. The account given by Brainbrd of the Doctrines which be preached to the Indians, and their visible Effects; of his method of learning their language; of his plat I of Instruction ; and of the Difficulties in the way of Christianizing them, will also be peculiarly useful to the Missionary; while the Diary at large will furnish him an example of selMenial, of patience under privations and sufferings, and of glorving in infirmities, which Paul himself would have respected and loved. On the whole, the Editor is convinced that few works hitherto published, are calculated to be equally useful to the Church at large, or to the individual Christian ; and, with these views concerning it, he cheerfully commends it to the blessing of Almighty God; without which the Word ofLifCy itself, becomes a " savour of death unto death.^^

PREACHED IN NEWARK, JUNE 12, 1744,

AT THE

ORDINATION OF MR. DAVID BRAINERD,

A MISSIONABY TO THE INDIANS

ON THE

BORDERS OF NEW YORK, NEW JERSEY AND PENNSYLVANIA,

BY EBENEZER PEMBERTON, A. M.

FASTOB OF THE FBESBYTEBIAN CBUKCH IN TBB CITT OF HBW TORK.

Vol. X. -^

ORDINATION 8ER?»ION.

Luke xiv. 23.

And the Lord said unto the servant^ Go out into the highways and hedges^ and compel them to come in, that my house may bejilled.

God erected this visible world as a monument of his glory, a theatre for the display of his adorable perfections. The heavens proclaim his wisdom and power in shining characters, and the whole earth is full of his goodness. Man was in his original creation excellently fitted for the service of God, and for perfect happiness in the enjoyment of the divine favour. But sin has disturbed the order of nature, defaced the beauty of the most disconsolate circumstances of guilt and misery.

The all-seeing eye of God beheld our deplorable state ; infinite pity touched the heart of the Father of mercies; and infinite wisdom laid the plan of our recovery. The Majesty of heaven did not see meet to suffer the enemy of mankind eternally to triumph in his success ; nor leave his favourite workmanship irrecoverably to perish in the ruins of the apostacy. By a method, which at once astonishes and delights the spirits above, he opened a way for the display of his mercy, without any violation of the sacred claims of his justice; in which, the honour of the law is vindicated, and the guilty offender acquitted, sin is condemned, and the sinner eternally saved. To accomplish this blessed design, the beloved Son of God assumed the nature of man : in our nature died a spotless sacrifice for sin ; by the atoning virtue of his blood " he made reconciliation for iniquity," and by his perfect obedience to the law of God, " brought in everlasting righteousness.''

Having finished his work upon earth, before he ascended to his heavenly Father, he commissioned the ministers of his kingdom to "preach the gospel to every creature." He sent them forth to make the extensive offers of salvation to rebellious sinners, and by all the methods of holy violence to "compel them to come in/' and accept the invitations of his grace. We have a lively representation of this in the parable^ in which our text is contained.

The evident design of it is, under the figure of a marriage mpper^ to set forth the plentiful provision, which is made in our Lord Jesus Christ for the reception of his .people, and the freedom and riches of divine grace, which invites the most unworthy and miserable sinners, to partake of this sacred entertainment. The first invited guests were the Jews, the favourite people of God, who were heirs of divine love, while the rest of the world were " aliens firom the commonwealth of Israel and strangers fi-om the covenants of promise:" but these, through the power of prevailing prejudice, and the influence of carnal affections, obstinately rejected the invitation, and were therefore finally excluded from these invaluable blessing.

But it was not the design of infinite wisdom, that these costly preparations should be lost, and the table he had spread remain unfurnished with guests. Therefore he sent forth his servant " into the streets and lanes of the city," and commanded him to bring in " the poor, the maimed, the halt, and the bhnd"— L e. the most necessitous and miserable of mankind ; yea, to "go out into the highways and hedges," to the wretched and perishing Gentiles, and not only invite, but even "compel them to come in, that his house might be filled."

The words of the text represent to us,

J. The melancholy state of the Gentile world. They are described as " in the highways and hedges," in the most perishing and helpless condition.

II. The compassionate care^ which the blessed Redeemer takes of them in these their deplorable circumstances. He " sends out his servants" to them, to invite them to partake of the entertainments of his house.

III. The duty of the ministers of the gospel, to " compel them to come in" and accept of his gracious invitation. These I shall consider in their order, and then apply them to the present occasion.

I. I am to consider the melancholy state of the Heathen world while in the darkness of nature, and destitute of divine revelation. It is easy to harangue upon the excellency and advantage of the light of nature. It is agreeable to the pride of mankind to exalt the powers of human reason, and pronounce it a sufficient guide to eternal happiness. But let us inquire into the records of antiquity^ let us consult the experience of all ages, and we shall find, that those who had no guide but the light of nature, no instructor but unassisted reason, have wandered in perpetual uncertainty, darkness, and error. Or let us take a view of the present state of those countries that have not been illuminated by the gospel? and we shall see, that notwith-

Standing the improvements of near six thousand years, they remain to this day covered with the ^ossest darkness, and abandoned to the most immoral and vicious practices.

The beauty and good order every where discovered in the visible frame of nature, evidences, beyond all reasonable dispute, the existence of an infinite and Almighty Cause, who first gave being to the universe, and still preserves it by his powerful providence. Says the apostle to the Gentiles, (Rom. i. 20.) "The invisible thmgs of God, from the creation of the world, are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead." And yet many, even among the philosophers of the Gentile nations, impiously denied the eternal Deity, from whose hands they received their existence ; and blasphemed his infinite perfections, when surrounded with the clearest demonstrations of his power and goodness. Those whoBcknowledged a Deity, entertained the most unworthy conceptions of his nature and attributes, and worshipped the creature^ in the place of the Creator^ " who is God blessed for ever." Not only the illustrious heroes of antiquity, and the public benefactors of mankind, but even the most despicable beings in the order of nature, were enrolled in the catalogue of their gods, and became the object of their impious adoration* "They changed the glory of the incorruptible God into an image made like to corruptible man, to birds and four-footed beasts, and creeping things." Rom. i. 23.

A few of the sublimest geniuses of Rome and Athens, had some faint discoveries of the spiritual nature of the soid^ and formed some probable conjectures, that man was designed for a future state of existence. When they considered the extensive capacities of the human mind, and the deep impressions of futurity engraven in every breast, they could not but infer, that the soul was immortal, and at death would be translated to some new and unknown state. When they saw the virtuous oppressed with various and successive calamities, and the vilest of men triumphing in prosperity and pleasure, they entertained distant hopes, that, in a future revolution, these seeming inequalities would be rectified, these inconsistencies removed ; the righteous distinguishingly rewarded, and the wicked remarkably punished. But after all their inquiries upon this important subject, they attained no higher than some probable conjectures, some uncertain expectations. And when they came to describe the nature and situation of these invisible regions of happiness or misery, they made the wildest guesses, and run into the most absurd and vain imaginations. The heaven they contrived for the entertainment of the virtuous was made up of sensual pleasures, beneath the dignity of human nature, and inconsistent with perfect fehcity. The hell they described for the punishment of the vicious, consisted in

ridiculous terrors, unworthy the belief of a rational and religious

creature.

Their practices were equally corrupt with their principles. As the most extravagant errors were received amon^ the established articles of their faith, so the most infamous vices obtained in their practice, and were indul&ed not only with impunity, but authorized by the sanction of meir laws. They stupidly erected altars to idols oLivood and stone; paid divine honours to those who in their lives had been the greatest monsters of lust and cruelty; yea, offered up their sons and daughters Us sacrifices to devils. The principles of honour, the restraints of shame, the precepts of their philosophers, were all too weak to keep their corruptions within any tolerable bounds. The wickedness of their hearts broke through every inclosure, and deluged the earth with rapine and violence, blood and slaughter, and all manner of brutish and detestable impurities. It is hardly possible to read the melancholy description of the principles and manners of the Heathen world, given us by St. Paul, without horror and surprise ; to think that man, once the "friend of God" and ** the lord of this lower world," should thus " deny the God that made him," and bow down to dumb idols^ should thus, by lust and intemperance, degrade himself into the character of the beast^ ^*- which hath no understanding ;" and by pride, malice, and revenge, transform himself into the very image of the devil, ** who was a murderer from the beginning."

This was the state of the Gentile nations, when the light of the gospel appeared to scatter the darkness that overspread the face of the earth. And this has been the case, so far as has yet appeared, of all the nations ever since, upon whom the Sun of righteousness has not arisen with healing in his wings. Every new discovered country opens a new scene of astonishing ignorance and barbarity; and gives us fresh evidence of the universal corruption of human nature.

II. I proceed now to consider the compassionate care and kindness of our blessed Redeemer towards mankind, in these their deplorable circumstances. He " sends out his servants" to invite them " to come in," and accept the entertainment of his house.

God might have left his guilty creatures to have eternally suffered the dismal effects of their apostacy, without the least imputation of injustice, or violence of his infinite perfections. The fall was the consequence of man's criminal choice, and attended with the highest s^gravations. The angels that sinned were made examples of God's righteous severity, and are reserved " in chains" of guilt " to the judgment of a great day." Mercy, that tender attribute of the divine nature, did not inter-

pose iu their behalf, in order to suspend the execution of their sentence or to avert God^s threatened displeasure. Their pun' ishment is unalterably decreed, their judgment is irreversiole; they are the awful monuments of revenging wrath, and are condemned ^^to blackness of darkness forever/^ Now justice might have shown the same inflexible severity to rebellious man and have left the universal progeny of Adam to perish in their guilt and misery. It was unmerited mercy that distinguished the human race, in providing a Saviour for us; and it was the most signal compassion that revealed the counsels of heaven for our recovery.

But though justice did not oblige the divine Being to provide for our relief, yet the goodness of the indulgent Father of the universe inclined him to show pity to his guilty creatures, who fell from their innocence through the sm>tlety and malice of seducing and apostate spirits. It was agreeable to the divine wisdom to disappoint the devices of Satan, the enemy of God and goodness, and recover the creatures he had made from their subjection to the powers of darkness.

He therefore gave early discoveries of his desij^s of mercy to our first parents, and immediately upon the apostacy opened a door of hope for their recovery, lie revealed a Saviour to the ancient Patriarchs, under dark types and by distant promises; made clearer declarations of his will, as the appointed time drew near, for the accomplishment of the promises, and the manifestation of the Son of God in human flesh. -''And when the fulness of time was come, God sent forth his Son, made of a woman, made under the law, to redeem them that were under the law, that he might receive the adoption of sons."

This divine and illustrious person left the bosom of his Father, that he might put on the character of a servant; descended from the glories of heaven, that he might dwell on this inferior earth; was made under the law, that he might fulfil all righteousness; submitted to the infirmities of human nature, to the sorrows and sufferings of an afflicted life, and to the agonies of a painfiil ignominious death on a cross, that he might destroy the power of sin, abolish the empire of death, and purchase immortality and glory for perishing man.

While our Lord Jesus resided in this lower world, he preached the glad tidings of salvation, and published the kingdom of God; confirming his doctrine by numerous and undoubted miracles, and recommending his instructions by the charms of a spotless life and conversation. He sent forth his apostles.to pursue the same gracious design of gospellizing the people and furnishing them with sufficient powers to proselyfe the nations to the faith. He also appointed a standing ministry, to carry on a treaty of peace with rebellious pinners, in the sue-

cessive ages of the church, to continue till the number of the redeemed is completed, and the whole election of grace placed in circumstances of spotless purity and perfect happiness.

These ministers are styled " the servants of Christ," by way of eminence ; they are in a peculiar manner devoted to the service of their divine Master: from him they receive their conmiission ; and by him they are appointed to represent his person, preside in his worship, and teach the laws of his kingdom. To assume this character without being divinely called, and regularly introduced into this sacred office, is a bold invasion of Christ's royal authority, and an open violation of that order which he established in his church. These not only derive their mission from Christ, but it is his doctrine they are to preach, and not the inventions of their own brain ;—it is his glory they are to promote, and not their own interest or honour. Their business is not to propagate the designs of a party, but the common salvation^ and to" beseech all, in Christ's name, to be reconciled unto God."

The Apostles, the primitive heralds of the everlasting gospel, were sent to make the first tender of salvation to " the lost sheep of the house of Israel;" and they were commanded to begin at Jerusalem, the centre of the Jewish commonwealth. But when the Jews obstinately persisted in their impenitence arid unbelief, they were commissioned "to preach the gospel to every creature under heaven :" the sinners of the Gentiles were invited to come in^ and accept of the oflFers of salvation.

The prophets pointed out a Messiah that was to come, and proclaimed the joyful approach of a Redeemer at the time appointed in the sovereign counsels of heaven. The ministers of the gospel now are sent to declare, that the prophecies are accompUshed, the promise fulfilled, justice satisfied, salvation purchased; and all that will come in^ shall receive the blessings of the gospel. They are not only free to invite sinners of all orders and degrees, of all ages and nations; but to assure them, that " all things are now ready," and to use the most powerful and persuasive methods, that they may engage them to comply with the heavenly call. Which brings me to the third thing proposed,* tn^:

III. To show, that it is the great duty of the ministers of the gospel " to compel sinners to come in," and accept of the blessings of the gospel. This is so plainly contained in my text, that I shall not multiply arguments to confirm it. My only business shall be to explain the nature of this compulsion, or show in what manner sinners are to be " compelled to come in" to the christian church. And sure I am, not by the deceitful methods of fraud and disguise, nor the inhuman practices of persecution and violence. This text, indeed, has

often been alleged by the persecuting bigots of all ages, and applied to support the cause of religious tyranny; to the infinite scandal of the Christian name and the unspeakable detriment of the Christian interest. By this means, the enemies of our most holy faith have been strengthened in their infidelity, the weak have been turned aside from " the truth as it is in Jesus,'' and the peaceable kingdom of the Messiah transformed into a field of blood, a scene of hellish and horrid cruelties. If this were the compulsion recommended in the gospel, then absolute unrelenting tyrants would be the proper and most infallible teachers ; then racks and tortures would be the genuine and most successfiil method of propagating the faith. But surely every thing of this kind, every violent and driving measure, is in direct opposition to the precepts and example of our blessed Saviour, and contrary to the very ^nius of his gospel, which proclaims " Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace, good will towards men."*

The princes of this world exercise a temporal dominion over mankind, and by fines levied on their estates, and punishments inflicted on their bodies, force men to an outward subjection to their authority and government. But the kingdom of our Lord is of a spiritual nature ; he erects his empire in the hearts of men, and reigns over " a willing people in the day of his power," External violence may necessitate men to an external profession of the truth, and procure a dissembled compliance with the institutions of Christ; but can never enlighten the darkness of the mind, conquer the rebellion of the will, nor sanctify and save the soul. It may transfigure men into accom-pUshed hypocrites; but will never convert them into real saints.

The gospel was originally propagated by the powerful preaching of Christ and his apostles, by the astonishing miracles which they wrought in confirmation of their doctrine, and the exemplary lives by which they adorned their profession and character. Instead of propagating their religion by the destructive methods of fire and sword, they submitted to the rage and cruelty of a malignant world with surprising patience, and sacrificed their very lives in the cause of God, without any intemperate discoveries of anger and resentment. Instead of calling for "fire from heaven" to destroy their opposers, they compassionated their ignorance, instructed them with meekness^ counselled and exhorted them with " all long suffering and doctrine," and even spent their dying breath in praying for their conviction and conversion, that they might be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus.

-^ Luheii. 14.

Vol. X. 3

l^ pemberton's sermon

Now, in imitation of these primitive doctors of the Christian church, these wise and successful preachers of the gospel, it is the duty of the ministers of the present day, to use the same methods of compassion and friendly violence, A disinterested zeal for the glory of God, a steadfast adherence to the truth, and unshaken fidelity in our Master's cause, with universal benevolence to mankind, must constantly animate our public discourses, and be conspicuous in our private conversation and behaviour. We must diligently endeavour to convince the understandings, engage the affections, and direct the practice of our hearers. Upon this head, it may not be amiss to descend to a few particulars.

I. Ministers are to "compel sinners to come in," by setting before them their "guilty and perishing condition by nature." Sinners are naturally fond of carnal ease and security; they are delighted with their pleasant and profitable sins; they even " drink m iniquity like water," with great greediness, with insatiable thirst, and incessant gratification, but without fear or remorse. Upon this account, there is the highest necessity to sound an alarm in their ears, that they may be awakened, to see and consider their dangerous state ; or else they will never be excited to "flee from the wrath to come." The secure sinner is insensible of his want of a saviour : "The whole need not a physician, but they that are sick."

To this end, the ministers of the gospel are to set "the terrors of the Lord" in array against the sinner, and let him hear the " thunder of divine curses," that utter their voice against the unbelieving. They are to represent in the clearest light, and with the most convincing evidence, the evil of sin, and the danger to which it exposes ; that "wrath from heaven is revealed against all ungodlmess and unrighteousness of men ;"* that the flaming sword of incensed justice is unsheathed, and the arm of the Almighty ready to destroy such as are "going on still in their trespasses," impenitent, and secure. They are not only thus to show them their danger, but to set before them at the same time their wretched and helpless circumstances;—that no human eye can successfully pity them nor any created arm bring them effectual deliverance;— that while m a state of unregenerate nature, they are destitute of strength to perform any acceptable service to the blessed God, and unable to make any adequate satisfaction to offended justice ;—that indeed they can neither avoid the divine displeasure, nor endure the punishment that is due to their crimes. Thus, by a faithful application of the law and its threatenings, we should endeavour, by God's blessing, to make way for the reception of the gospel and its promises.

«

* Rom. i. 18.

This was the wise method observed by our blessed Saviour, the first preacher of the Gospel, and by the aposdes, his inspired successors. So John the Baptist, who served as " the morning star" to usher in the appearance of the Sun of righteousness, did thus " prepare the way of the Lord,'' by enlightening the minds of men in the knowledge of their guilt and misery, and inciting them to flee from the " damnation of hell," The three thousand that were converted to the faith at one sermon, in the infancy of the Christian church, were first awakened with a sense of their aggravated guilt, in " crucifying the Lord of glory;'' and brought in agony and distress to cry out, " Men and brethren, what shall we do ?''*

The method, I confess is disagreeable to the sentiments and inclinations of a secure world ; and may expose us to the reproach of those " that are at ease in Zion :" but is agreeable to the dictates of an enlightened mind, conformable to the plan laid down in the sacred scriptures, and has in all ages ap« proved itself the most successful method of promoting the interests of real and vital religion.

2. They are to " compel sinners to come in," by a lively representation of the power and grace of our Almighty Redeemer. Not all the thunder and terror of curses from Mount Ebal, not all the tremendous " wrath revealed from heaven against the ungodly," not all the anguish and horror of a wounded spirit in an awakened sinner, are able to produce an unfeigned and efiectual compliance with the gospel terms of mercy. The ministry of the law can only give the knowledge ofsin^ rouse the sinner's conscience, and alarm his fears : it is the dispensation of ^roce, that sanctifies and saves the souL Nor is the former needful, but in order to the latter. So much conviction as gives us a sight of our sin and misery, as inclines us to " flee from the wrath to come," and disposes us to submit to the gospel-method of salvation " by grace through faith," by sovereign mercy through the Mediator, so much is necessary ; and more is neither requisite, nor useful, nor desirable. It is not the oflSce of preachers to be perpetually employed in the language of terror, or exhaust their strength and zeal in awakening and distressing subjects. No ; but as it is their distinguishing character, that they are ministers of the gospel^ so it is their peculiar business to " preach the unsearchable riches of Christ." The person, and offices, and love of the great Redeemer, the merits of his obedience, and purchases of his cross, the victories of his resurrection, the triumphs of his ascension, and prevalence of his intercession, the power of his Spirit, the greatness of his salvation, the freeness of his grace*

* Acts ii. 36, r:.

i&c.; these are to be the chosen and delightful subjects of their discourses. They are to represent him as one—who has completely answered the demands of the law, rendered the Deity propitious to the sinner, and upon this account is able eternally to save us from the vengeance of an offended God ;—who is clothed with Almighty power, to subdue the inveterate habits of sin, sanctify our polluted nature, and restore us to spiritual health and purity; who is Lord of the visible and invisible worlds^ who knows how to defeat the most artful devices of Satan, and will finally render his people victorious over their most malicious and implacable adversaries;—who having " made reconciliation for iniquity" upon the cross, is pleading the merits of his blood in heaven, and powerfully interceding for all suitable blessings in behalf of his people ;— ^^ who is there exalted as a Prince and a Saviour to give repentance and remission of sins ;* and is able to save unto the uttermost all those that come to God in and through him ;"t—in fine, who from his illustrious throne in glory, stoops to look down with pity upon guilty and perishing sinners, stretches forth the sceptre of grace, and opens the everlasting arms of his mercy to receive them. These peculiar doctrines of the gospel they are frequently to teach, upon these they are to dwell with constant pleasure, that sinners may be persuaded to hearken to the mvi-ting voice of divine love, and put their trust in this Almighty and compassionate Saviour. In order to which,

3. They are to show sinners the mighty encouragement^ that the gospel gives them to accept of Christy and salvation through his merits and righteousness. As for ignorant pre-sumcrs, these hear the glad tidings of the gospel with a fatal indifference ; and say in their hearts, " they shall have peace," though they go on in their evil way, stupidly " neglecting so

freat salvation," and regardless of eternal things. But awa-ened minds are rather apt to draw the darl^st conclusions with respect to their case, and to judge themselves excluded from the invitations of the gospel. Sometimes they imagine that the number arid aggravations of their sins exceed the designs of pardoning mercv:—at other times, that they have so long resisted the heavenly call, that now the gate of heaven is irrecoverably barred against them :—and satan further suggests, that it would be the height of presumption in them to lay claim to the blessings of the gospel, till better prepared for the divine reception. Upon such imaginary aiid false grounds as these, multitudes of the invited guests make excuses^ and exclude themselves from the " marriage supper of the Lamb." It is therefore the business of the servants of Christ to show that •' there is yet room," even for the greatest and vilest sinners to

* Acts V. 31. tHeb.vii. 25.

come m, and partake of the gospel-festival; that ^^ all thmgs are now ready," for their welcome entertainment;—that the door is still open^ and there is free access, not only for those who have escaped the grossest pollutions of the world, but even " for the chief of sinners," whose guilt is of a crimson colour and a scarlet dye ; that neither the number nor aggravations of their iniquities will exclude them a share in the divine mercy, if now they submit to the sceptre of grace ;—that whatever their condition and circumstances may be, it is of present obligation upon them to accept the gospel call, and their instant duty to come in ; the Master invites them " to come to him, that they may have life;" and " whosoever do so," the Master of the house assures them, that " he will in no wise cast them ouL"*

4. They are to exhibit the unspeakable advantages that will attend a compliance with the gospel call. I know, indeed, the religion of Jesus is by its enemies often represented in the most frightful and hideous colours; particularly as laying an unreasonable restraint on the liberties of mankind, and sinking them into melancholy enthusiasts. It becomes us, therefore, who are " set for the defence of the gospel," to endeavour the removing of this groundless prejudice, and to convince mankind by the light of reason and scripture, that " the ways of wisdom are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace:" that verily a life of faith in the blessed Redeemer is the way to be happy, both here and hereafter.

Oh, what more honourable than to be " a child of God, an heir of the kingdom of heaven!" What more pleasing than to look back, and behold our past iniquities all buried m the depths of eternal oblivion;—than to look forward and view our dear Saviour acknowledging us his friends and favourites, and adjudging us to a state oi unperishing glory ? What more advantageous than to have the divine favour engaged for our ]|brotection, the promises of divine grace for our consolation, and an assured title to " an inheritance undefiled, incorruptible and eternal ?" This is the portion of the true believer. These the privileges that attend a compliance with the gospel-call.

These things are to be represented in such a manner as may tend to captivate the hearts of men, and engage them in a solicitous care and resolution to renounce the degrading servitude of sin, and resign themselves to the power of redeeming grace. Thus by the most effectual and persuasive methods, the ministers of Jesus are to compel sinners ^^ to come in, that his house may be filled."

It was not in my design, to consider the duty of the ministry in its just extent; but only to insist upon those things that more properly belong to my subject, and lie directly in the view of

* John Ti. 37.

'^ PEMBERTON^S SERMOST

my text—It will now doubtless be expected, that I applt my discourse more immediately to the present occasion^

And suffer me dear Sir, in the first place, to address myself to you, who are this day coming under a public consecration to the service of Christ, " to bear his name among the Gentiles; to whom the Master is now sending you forth, to compel them to come in, that his house may be filled." We trust you are a chosen vessel^ designed for extensive service in this honourable, though difficult employnient. We adore the God of nature, who has furnished you with such endowments as suit you to this important charge. We adore the great Head of the Church for the nobler gifts and graces of his Spirit; by which, we trust, you are enabled to engage in this mission with an ardent love to God, the universal Father of mankind, with a disinterested zeal for the honour of Christ, the compassionate friend of sinners, and with tender concern for the perishing souls of a ^^ people that sit in darkness, and in the shadow of death;'' who have for many ages been wandering out of the way of salvation, " without Christ, and without God in the world."

The work of the ministry, in every place, has its difficulties and dangers, and requires much wisdom, fortitude, patience, and self-denial, to discharge it in a right manner, with an encouraging prospect of success: but greater degrees of prudence, humility, and meekness, mortification to the present world, holy courage, and zeal for the honour of God our Saviour, are necessary where any are called to minister the gospel unto those .who through a long succession of ages have dwelt in the darkness of heathenism, have from their infancy imbibed inveterate prejudices against the Christian faith, and from time immemorial been inured to many superstitious and idolatrous practices, directly opposite to the nature and design of the gospel. '^^

What heavenly skill is required, to convey the supernatural mysteries of the gospel into the minds of uninstructed Pagans, who are " a people of a strange speech and hard language ?" —What deep self-denial is necessary, to enable you cheerfully to forsake the pleasures of your native country, with the agreeable society of your friends and acquaintance, to dwell among those who inhabit not indeed " the highways and hedges," but uncultivated deserts, and the remotest recesses of the wilderness ?—What unwearied zeal and diligence, to proselyte those to the faith of the gospel, who have quenched the light of reason, and by their inhuman and barbarous practices have placed themselves upon a level with the brute creation ?

Methinks 1 hear you crying out, " who is sufficient for these things!"—And indeed, if you had no strength to depend upon bat vour own,—no encouragement but from human assistance-

vou might justly sink down in despair and utter the passionate language of Moses, " O my Lord, send, I pray thee, by the hand of him whom thou wilt send :" thy servant is insufficient for so great a work.—But it is at the command of Christ, the great Head of the Church, that you go forth ; who by a train of surprising providences, has been preparing your way for Ais iinportant embassy ; and therefore you may be assured, that he will support you m a faithful discharge of your duty, accept your unfeigned desires to promote the interests of his kingdom, and finally reward your imperfect services with his gracious approbation. You have his divine promise for your security and consolation ; " Lo ! I am with you alway, even to the end of the world." This will afford you light in every darkness, defence in every danger, strength in every weakness, and a final victory over every temptation. If Christ be with you, " in vain do the Heathen rage," in vain will their confederated tribes unite their forces to obstruct and discourage you. Infinite wisdom will be your guide, almighty power your shield, and God himself " your exceeding great reward." The presence of your divine Master will make amends for the absence of your dearest fiiends and relatives. This will transform a wild and uncultivated desert into a paradise of joy and pleasure : and the lonely huts of savages into more delightful habitations than the palaces of princes.

Let not any difficulties discourage, any dangers then afiright you. Go forth in the name and strength of the Lord Jesus, to whom you are now to be devoted in the sacredoffice of the ministry. "Be not ashamed of the gospel of Christ; for it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth, to the Jew first, and also to the Gentile." Let zeal for the honour of God, and compassion for the souls of men, animate your public discourses and private addresses to the people committed to your charge. Always remember, that your character is a minister ofJestAS} and therefore with the inspired doctor of the Gentiles, you "are to know nothing among them, save Christ, and him crucified." Frequently consider, that the gospel is a divine discipline to purify the heart, and set'up the kingdom of the Redeemer in the souls of men : and therefore it is not sufficient to bring sinners to a profession of the name of Christ, and an outward subjection to the institutions of divine worship; '* You are sent to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God, that they may receive forgiveness of sins, and an inheritance among them that are sanctified by faith tfiat is in Christ." Unless this be effected, (whatever other improvements they gain,) they are left under the dominion of sin, and exposed to the wrath of God ; and their superior degrees of knowledge will only serve to light them down to the regions of death and misery. This then is to be the

principal design of your ministry ; for this you are to labour with unwearied application, and with incessant importunity to approach the throne of that God, whose peculiar prerogative it is " to teach us to profit;" whose grace alone can make them " a willing people in the day of his power."

And for your encouragement, I will only add : When I consider the many prophecies, in sacred scripture, of the triumphant progress of the gospel in the last ages of the world, I C€m-not but lift up my head with joy^ in an humble expectation, that the day draws near^ yea, is even at hand^ when the promises made to the Son of God shall be more illustriously fulfilled :—" when he shall have the Heathen for his inheritance, and the utmost parts of the earth for his possession; when his name shall be great among the Gentiles, and be honoured and adored from the rising of the sun to the going down of the same." But if the appointed time is not yet come, and the attempts made to introduce this glorious day, fail of desired success, " your judgment will be with the Lord, and your reward with your God." If the Gentiles "be not gathered" in, you will "be glorious in the eyes of the Lord," who accepts and rewards his servants according to the sincerity of their desires, and not according to the success of their endeavours.

I shall conclude with a few words to the body of the people, God our Saviour, in infinite condescension, hath sent his servants to invite you to come m, and receive the blessings which infinite wisdom has contrived, and astonishing grace prepared for your entertainment. And surely, my brethren, it is your important duty and incomparable interest, not to despise "the salvation of God sent unto the Gentiles," nor make light of the gospel message to you.

God has been pleased to employ us the messengers of his grace, men of like passions with yourselves, subject to the common infirmities of human nature : but the message comes fi-om him, who is King of kings and Lord of lords ; whom you are under the strongest obligations to hear and obey, iii point of interest, gratitude, and duty.

What gracious and condescending methods has he taken to allure and invite you ! has he not descended from heaven to earth ; from the boundless glories of eternity to all the sufferings and afilictions of this mortal life, that he might purchase and reveal salvation ; that he might engage your love, and persuade you to comply with his saving designs ? Does he not send his " ambassadors to beseech you in nis stead, to be reconciled to God?" j

What excuses have you to make, that will stand the trial of an enlightened conscience, or justify you at the awful tribunal of God ? will the vanishing enjoyments of sin and sense, or the perishing riches of this transitory world, make amends for the

loss of the divine favour, or support you under the terrors of eternal damnation ?—Are there any honours comparable to the dignity and character of a child of God, and a title to the privileges of his house and family ? Are there any pleasures equal to the smiles of God's reconciled face, the refreshing visits of his love, and the immoriBl joys of his salvation ?

But how deplorable, how desperate will be your case, if you finally refuse the gospel-invitation, and perish in your natural state of guilt and misery ? the compassionate Jesus, who now addresses vou in the inviting language of love, will then speak to you with the voice of terror, and " swear in his wrath, that you shall never enter into his rest, that you shall never taste of his supper,'^ the rich provision which he has made for the eternal entertainment of his suests. " When once the Master of the house is risen up, and hath shut to the door,^' you will in vain stcmd without and knock for admission.

In a word, Now^ he declares by his servants, that " all things are ready,'' and all that are bidden shall be welcome, upon their coming in^ to be partakers of the benefit. The blood of Christ is now ready, to cleanse you from all your guilt and pollution ; his righteousness is now ready to adorn your naked souls with the garment of salvation; his Spirit is now ready to take possession of you, and make you eternal monuments of victorious and redeeming grace. " The Spirit and the bride say. Come; and whosoever (of the lost and perishing sons of Adam) will, let him come," and participate of the blessings of thegospel "freely, without money, and without price." The arms of everlasting mercy are open to receive you: the treasures of divine grace are open to supply your wants: and every one of you that now sincerely accepts this gracious invitation, shall hereafter be admitted ^^ to sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom of heaven."—For which, God of his infinite mercy prepare us all, through Jesus Christ; to whom be glory and dominion world without end. Amen.

Vol. X. 4

PREFACE.

Thebe are two ways of recommending true religion and virtue to the world : the one, by doctrine and precept; the other by history ^ and example. Both are abundantly used in the holy scriptures. Not only are the grounds, nature, design, and importance of religion clearly exhibited in the doctrines of scripture—^its exercise and practice plainly delineated, and abundantly enforced* in its commands and counsels—but there we have many excellent examples of religion) in its power and practice, set before us, in the histories both of the Old and New Testament.

Jesus Christ, the great Prophet of God, when he came to be <(the light of the world."—to teach and enforce true religion, in a greater degree than ever had been done before—made use of both Uiese methods. In his doctrine^ he not only declared more fully the mind and will of God—^the nature and properties of that virtue, which becomes creatures of our constitution, and in our circumstances, and more powerfully enforced it by exhibiting the obligations and inducements to holiness; but he also in his own practice gave a most perfect ea;amp2e of the virtue which he taught. He exhibited to the world such an illustrious pattern of humility, divine love, discreet zeal, self-denid, obedience, patience, resignation, fortitude, meekness, forgiveness, compassion, benevolence, and universal holiness, as neither men nor angels ever saw before.

God also in bis providence^ has been wont to make use of both these methods to hold forth light to mankind, and inducements to their duty, in all ages. He has from time to time raised up eminent teachers^ to exhibit and bear testimony to the truth by their doctrine^ and to oppose the errors, darkness, and wickedness of the world ; and he has also raised up some eminent persons who have set bright examples of that religion which is taught and prescribed in the word of God; whose examples havCi in the course of divine providence» been set forth to public view. These have a great tendency both to engage the attention of men to the doctrines and rules taught, and also to confirm and enforce them; especially when these bright examples have been exhibited in the same persons who have been eminent teachers. Hereby the world has had opportunity to see a confirmation of the truth, efficacy, and amiableness of the religion taught, in the practice of the same persons who have most clearly and forcibly taught it; and above all, when these bright examples have been set by eminent teachers, in a variety of unusual circumstances of remarkable trial; and when God has withal» remark-^ ably distinguished them wHh wonderful sticcess in their mstructioQS and labours.

Such an instance we have in the exceUerU person whose life is published in the following pages. His example is attended with a great variety of circumstances calculated to engage the attention of religious people, especially in America. He was a man of distinguished talents, as all are sensible who knew him. As a minbter of the gospel, he was called to unusual services in that work ; and his ministry was attended with very remarkable and unusual events. His course of religion began before the late times of extraordinary religious conmiotion ; yet he was not an idle spectator^ but had a near concern in many things that passed at that time. He had a very extensive acquaintance with those who have been the subjects of the late religious operations, in places far distant, in people of different ^ nations, education, manners, and customs. He had a peculiar opportunity of acquaintance with the false appearances and counter* feits of religion; was the instrument of a most remarkable awakening, a wonderful and abiding alteration and moral transformatioa of subjects, who peculiarly render the change rare and astonishing.

In the following account, the reader will have an opportunity to see, not only what were the extemai circumstances and remarkable incidents of the hfe of this personi and how he spent his time from day to day, as to his extemai behaviour, but also what passed in his aum heart. Here he will see the wonderful change he experienced in his mind and disposition; the manner in which that change was brought to pass ; how it continued ; and what were its consequences in bis inward frames, thoughts, affections, and secret exercisesi through many vicissitudes and trials, for more than eight years.

He will also see his sentiments, frame, and behaviour, during a long season of the gradual and sensible approach of death; and what were the effects of his religion in the last stages of his illness. The account being written, the reader may have opportunity at bis leisure to compare the various parts of the story, and deliberately to view and weigh the whole, and consider how far what is related, is agreeable to the dictates of reason, and the Word of God.

I am far from supposing, that Brainebd's inward exercises or his extemai conduct, were free from aU imperfections. The example of Jesw Christ, is the only perfect example that ever existed in human nature. It is, therefore, a rule by which to try all other examples ; and the dispositions, frames, and practices of others, must be commended and followed no further, than they yrere followers of Christ.

There is one thing in Bkainerd, easily discernible by the following account of his life, which may be called an imperfection in him, which, though not properly an imperfection of a moral nature, yet, may possibly be made an objection against the extraordinary appearances of religion and de\rotion in him, by such as seek for objections against every thing that can be produced in favour of true, vital religion ; I refer to the fact, that he was, by his constitution and natural temper, so prone to meHanchoiy^ and dejection of spirit. There are some, who think that all religion is a melancholy thing ; and that what is called Christian experience is little else besides mdancholy vapours, disturbing the brain, and exciting enthusiastic imaginations. But that Bbainebi>*s temper or constitution incUned

liim to despondency^ is no just grodnd to suspect his extraordinary devoUon to have been only the fruit of a warm imagination* All who have well observed mankind, will readily grant that many of those who by their natural constitution or temper, are most disposed to de-jedioni are not the most susceptive of lively and strong impressions on their imagination, or the most subject to those vehement affectionSf which are the fruits of such impressions. Many who are of a very gap and sanguine natural temper are vastly more so ; and if their af« fections are turned into a religious channel, are much more exposed to enthusiasm^ than many of the former. As to Brainehd notwithstanding his inclination to despondency, he was evidently one of those who Bsually are the farthest from a teeming imagination ; being of a penetrating genius, of clear thought, of close reasoning, and a very exact judgment; as all know who knew him. As he had a great insight into human nature, and was very discerning and judicious in general; so he excelled in his judgment and knowledge in divinity, but especially in experimental religion. He most accurately distin-guished between real solid piety, and enthusiasm ; between those affections that are rational and scriptural-r-having their foundation in light and judgment—and those that are founded in whimsical conceits, strong impressions on the imagination, and vehement emotions of the animal spirits. He was exceedingly sensible of men's exposedness to these thmgs ; how much they bad prevailed, and what multitudes had been deceived by them ; of their pernicious consequences and the fearful mischief they had done in the Christian world. He greatly abhorred such a religion, and was abundant in bearing testimony against it, living and dying; and was quick to discern when any thing of that nature arose ; though in its first buddings, and appearing under the most fair and plausible disguises He had a talent foi describing the various workings of this imaginary enthusiastic religion— evincing its falseness and vanity, and demonstrating the great difference between this, and true spiritual devotion—which I scarcely ever knew equalled in any person.

His judiciousness did not only appear in distinguishing among the experiences of others^ but also among the various exercises of his own mind ; particularly in discerning what within himself was to be laid to the score of melancholy; in which he exceeded all melancholy persons that ever I was acquainted with. This was doubtless owing to a peculiar strength in \k\^ judgment; for it is a rare thing indeed, that melancholy people are sensible of their own disease, and convinced that such things are to be ascribed to it, as are its genuine operations and fruits. Brainerd did not obtain that degree of skill at once, but gradually ; as the reader may discern by the following account of his life. In the former part of his religious course, he imputed much of that kind of gloominess of mind, and those dark thoughts, to spiritual desertion, which in the latter part ot his life he was abundantly sensible, were owing to the disease of melancholy ; accordingly he oflen expressly speaks of them in his diary, as arising from this cause. He oflen in conversation spoke of the difference between melancholy, and godly sorrow, true humiliation, and spiritual discretion, and the great danger of mistaking the one for the

Other, and the very hurtful nature of melancholy; discoursing with great judgment upon it^ and doubtless much more judiciously for what he knew by his own experience.

But not to argue from Bbainebd's strength of judgment merely, it is apparent in fact, that he was not a person of a warm imagination. His inward experiences, whether in his convictions or his conversion, and his religious views and impressions through the course of his life, were not excited by strong and lively images formed in his imagination ; nothmg at all appears of it in his diary from beginning to end. He told me on his death-bed, that although once, when he was very young in years and experience, he was deceived into a high opinion of sunh things—looking on them as superior attainments in religion^ beyond what he had ever arrived at—was ambitious of them, and earnestly sought them ; yet he never could attain them. He moreover declared, that he never in his life had a strong impression on his imagination, of any outward form, external glory, or any thing of that nature ; which kind of impressions abound among enthustajftic people.

As Brainf.rd^s religious impressions, views, and affections in their nature were vastly different from enthusiasm ; so were their effects in him as contrary to it as possible Nothing, like enthusiasm, puffs men up with a high conceit of their own wisdom, holiness, eminence, and sufficiency ; and makes them so bold, forward assuming, and arrogant. But the reader will see that Brain erd's religion constantly disposed him to a most humble estimation of himself, and abasing sense of his own sinfulness, unprofitableness and ignorance ; looking on himself as wor?e than others; disposing him to universal benevolence and meekness ; in honour to prefer others, and to treat all with kindnessr and respect And when melancholy prevailed, and though the effects of it were very prejudicial to him, yet it had not the effects of enthusittsm ; but operated by dark and discouraging thoughts of himself, as ignorant, wicked, and wholly unfit for the work of the ministry, or even to be among mankind. Indeed, at the time just mentioned, when he had not learned well to distinguish between enthusiasm and solid religion, he joined, and kept company with some who were tinged with no small degree of the former. For a season, he partook with them in a degree, of their dispositions and behaviours ; though, as was observed before, he could not obtain those things wherein their enthusiasm itself consisted, and so could not become like them in that resspect, however he erroneously desired and sought it. But certainly it is not at all to be wondered at, that a youth, a young convert one who had his heart so swallowed up in religion, and who so earnestly desired its flc/urishing state—and who had so little opportunity for reading, observation, and experience— should for a while be dazzled and deceived with the glaring appearances of mistaken devotion and zeal; especially, considering the extraordinary citcumstances of that day. He told me on his death bed, that while he was in these circumstances, he was out of his element and did violence to himself, while complying in his conduct with persons of a fierce and imprudent zeal, from his great veneration of some whom lie looked upon as better than himself. So that it

would be very unreasonable that his error at that time should nevertheless be esteemed a just ground of prejudice against the whole of his religion, and his character in general; especially considering^ how greatly his mind was soon changed, and how exceedingly he afterwards lamented his error, and abhorred himself for his imprudent zeal and misconduct at that time, even to the breaking of his heart, and ahnost to the overbearing of his natural strength ; and how much of a Christian spirit he showed, in condemning himself for that misconduct, as the reader will see.

What has now been mentioned of Brainebd, is so far from being a just ground of prejudice against what is related in the following account of his life, that, if duly considered, it will render the history the more serviceable. For by his thus joining for a season with en-ihusiasts, he had a more full and intimate acquaintance with what belonged to that sort of religion ; and so was under better advantages to judge of the difference between that, and what he finally approved, and strove to his utmost to promote, in opposition to it. In his testimony against it, and the spirit and behaviour of those who are influence by it. he also speaks from impartial conviction, and not from prejudice ; because he thus openly condemns his own former opinions and conduct, on account of which he had greatly suffered from his opposerS) and for which some continued to reproach him as long as he lived.

Another imperfection in Brainerd, which may be observed in the following account of his life, was his being excessive in his labours; not taking due care to proportion his fatigues to his strength Indeed, the case was very oflen such, by the seeming calls of Providence, as made it extremely difficult for him to avoid doing more than his strength would well admit of; yea, his circumstances and the business of his mission among the Indians, were such, that great fatigues and hardships were altogether inevitable. However, he was finally convinced, that he had erred in this matter, and that he ought to have taken more thorough care, and been more resolute to withstand temptation to such degrees of labour as injured his health ; and accordingly warned his brother, who succeeds him in his mission, to be careful to avoid this error.

Besides the imperfections already mentioned, it is readily allowed that there were some imperfections which ran through his whole life, and were mixed with all his religious affections and exercises; some mixture of what was natural, with that which was spiritual; as it evermore is in the best saints in this world. Doubtless, natural temper had some influence in the religious exercises and experiences of Brainero, as it most apparently had in those of David aud Peter, of John and Paul. There was undoubtedly very often some mixture of melancholy with true godly sorrow, and real Christian humihty ; some mixture of the natural fire of youth, with his holy zeal for God; and some influence of natural principles, mixed with grace in various other respects, as it ever was and ever will be with the saints^ while on this side heaven. Perhaps none were more sensible of Brain-sbd's imperfections than himself; or could distinguish more accurately than he, between what was naturals and what was spiritual. It

is easy for the judicious reader to observe, that his graces ripened, that the religious exercises of bis heart became more and more pure, and he more and more distinguishing in his judgment, the longer he lived. He had much to teach and purify him, and he failed not to make his advantage.

Notwithstanding all these imperfectionsi every pious and judicious reader will readily acknowledge, that what is here set before him, is a remarkable instance of true and eminent piety, in heart and practice—tending greatly to confirm the reality of vital religion, and the power of godliness;—that it is most worthy of imitation, and in many ways calculated to promote the spiritual benefit of the careful observer.

The reader should be aware, that what Brainebd wrote in his diary * out of which the following account of his life is chiefly taken, was written only for his own private use ; and not to obtain honour and applause in the world, nor with any design that the world should ever see it, either while he lived, or after his death ; except a few things which he wrote in a dying state, after he had been persuaded* with difficulty^ not entirely to suppress all his private writings. He showed himself almost invincibly averse to the pnblishing of any part of his diary after his death ; and when he was thought to be dying at Boston, gave the most strict, peremptory orders to the contrary. But being by some of his friends there, prevailed upon to withdraw so strict and absolute a prohibition, he was finally pleased to yield so fart as that *^ his papers should be lef^ in my hands, that I might dispose of them as I thought would be most for God's glory, and the interest of religion."

But a few days before his death, he ordered some part of bis diary to be destroyed, which renders the account of his life, the less complete. And there are !>ome parts of his diary here, left out for brevity's sake, which would, i am sensible, have been a great advantage to the history, if they had been inserted; particularly the account of his wonderful success among the Indians; which for substance, is the same in his private diary with that which has already been made public^ in the journal he kept by order of the society in Scotland, for their information. That account, I am of opinion, would be more entertaining and more profitable, if it were published as it is written in his diary, in connexion with his secret religion, and the inward exercises of his mind, and also with the preceding and following parts of the story of his lifb. But because that account has been published already, I have therefore omitted that part. However, this defect may in a great measure, be made up to the reader- by the public journal,* But it is time to end this preface, that the reader may be no longer detained from the history itself.

JONATHAN EDWARDS.

* The extracts in the Journal, are in thia edition for the first time incorporated with the rest of the Diary.

*/■ "*

CHAPTER I.

From his birth^ to the time when he began to study for

the Ministry,

David Brainerd was born April 20, 1718, at Haddam^ in Connecticut. His father was Hezekiah Brainerd, Esq.; one of his Majesty's council for that colony ; who was the son of Daniel Brainerd, Esq.; a justice of the peace, and a deacon of the Church of Christ in Haddam. His mother was Dorothy Hobart, daughter of the Rev. Jeremiah Hobart; who preached a while at Topsfield, then removed to Hempstead on Long-Island, and afterwards—^by reason of numbers turning Quakers, and many others being so irreligious that they would do nothing towards the support of the gospel—settled in the work of the ministry at Haddam; where he died, in the 85th year of his age. He went to public worship in the forenoon, and died in his chair between meetings. This Rev. gentleman was a son of the Rev. Peter Hobart; who was, first, minister of the gospel at Hingham, in the county of Norfolk, in England; a.nd owing to the persecution of the Puritans, removed with his family to New-England, and was settled in the ministry at Hingham, in Massachusetts. He had five sons, Joshua, Jeremiah, Gershom, Japheth, and Nehemiah. Joshua was minister at Southold, on Long-Island. Jeremiah was David Brainerd^s

frandfather. Gershom was minister of Groton, in Connecticut, apheth was a physician; he went as surgeon of a ship to England, before the time of taking his second degree at college, and designed to go from thence to the East Indies ; but never was heard of more. Nehemiah was fellow of Harvard college, and afterwards minister at Newton in Massachusetts.—The mother of Dorothy Hobart was a daughter of the Rev. Samuel Whiting, minister of the gospel, first at Boston, in Lincolnshire, and afterwards at Lynn in Massachusetts, New England. He had three sons, who were ministers of the gospel.

David Brainerd was the third son of his parents. They had five sons and four daughters. Their eldest son is Heze-

VoL. X. r>

kiah Braincrd, Esq.; a justice of the peace, and for seveml years past, a representative of the town of Haddam, in the general assembly of Connecticut; the second was the Rev. Nehemiah Brainerd, a worthy minister at Eastbury in Connecticut, who died of a consumption, Nov. 10, 1742; the fourth is Mr. John Brainerd, who succeeds his brother David, as missionary to the Indians, and pastor of the same church of Christian Indians in New Jersey; and the fifth was Israel, lately student at Yale-College, in New-Haven, who died since his brother David.— Mrs. Dorothy Brainerd having lived about five years a widow, died when her son, of whose life I am about to give an account, was about fourteen years of age: so that in his youth he was left both fatherless and motherless. What account he has given of himself, and his own life, may be seen in what follows.*

"I was from my youth somewhat sober, and inclined to melancholy; but do not remember any thing of conviction of sin, worthy of remark, till I was I believe about seven or eight years of age. Then I became concerned for my soul, and terrified at the thoughts of death ; and was driven ta the

Eerformance of religious duties ; but it appeared a melancholy usiness, that destroyed my eagerness for play. And though, alas! this religious concern was but short-lived, I sometimes attended secret prayer; and thus lived at " ease in Zion, without God in the world," and without much concern, as I remember, till I was above thirteen years of age. In the winter of 1732, I was roused out of this carnal security, by I scarce know what means at first; but was much excited by the prevalence of a mortal sickness in Haddam. I was frequent, constant, and somewhat fervent in prayer; and took delight in reading, especially Mr. Janeway's Token for children, I felt sometimes much melted in the duties of religion, took great delight in the performance of them, and sometimes hoped that I was converted, or at least in a good and hopeful way for heaven and happiness; not knowing what conversion was. The Spirit of God at this time proceeded far with me. I was remarkably dead to the world ; my thoughts were almost wholly employed about my soul's concerns ; and I may indeed say^ " Almost I was persuaded to be a Christian." I was also exceedingly distressed and melancholy at the death of my mother, in March, 1732. But afterwards my religious concern began to decline, and by degrees I fell back into a considerable degree of security, though I still attended secret prayer.

* In Mr. Brainerd's account of himself here, and continued in his Diary^ the reader will find a growing interest and pleasure as he proceeds; in which IS beautifully exemplified what the inspired penman declares, "The path of the .lUst 18 as the morning light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day." And indeed even his diction and style of writing assume a gradual improyement.

« Aboat the 15th of April, 1733,1 removed from my father's house to East-Haddam, where I spent four years; but still *♦ without God in the world," though, for the most part, I went a round of secret duty. I was not much addicted to the com-

fany and amusements of the young; but this I know, that when did go into such company, I never returned with so good a conscience as when I went. It always added new guilt, made me afraid to come to the throne of grace, and spoiled those good frames with which I was wont sometimes to please myself.

But, alas! all my good frames were but self-righteousness, not founded on a desire for the glory of God.

** About the latter end of April, 1737, being full nineteen years of age, I removed to Durham, to work on my farm, and so continued about one year; frequently longing, from mere natural principles, after a liberal education. When about twenty years of age, I applied myself to study; and was now engaged more than ever in the duties of religion. I became very strict and watchful over my thoughts, words, and actions; concluded that I must be sober indeed, because I designed to devote myself to the ministry, and imagined that I did dedicate myself to the Lord.

" Sometime in April, 1738,1 went to Mr. Fiske's, and lived with him during his life.* I remember he advised me wholly to abandon young company, and associate myself with grave elderly people : which counsel I followed. My manner of life was now wholly regular, and fiill of religion, such as it was; for I read my Bible more than twice through in less then a year, spent much time every day in prayer and other secret duties, gave great attention to the word preached, and endeavoured to my utmost to retain it. So much concerned was I about religion, that I agreed with some young persons to meet privately on sabbath evenings for religious exercises, and thought myself sincere in these duties; and after our meeting was ended I used to repeat the discourses of the day to myself; recollecting what I could, though sometimes very late at night. I used occasionally on Monday mornings to recollectt he same sermons; experienced a considerable degree of enjoyment in prayer, and had many thoughts of joining the church. In short, I had a very g6od outside^ and rested entirely on my duties; though I was not sensible of it.

"After Mr. Fiske's death, I proceeded in my studies with my brother; was still very constant in religious duties, often wondered at the levity of professors, and lamented their carelessness in religious matters.—Thus I proceeded a considerable length on a self-righteous foundation; and should have beeo

■* Mr. Fiske was the pastor of the church in H^d(l9jD.

entirely lost and undone, had not the mere mercy of God prevented.

" Sometime in the beginning of winter, 1738, it pleased God, one Sabbath morning, as I was walking out for prayer, to give me on a sudden such a sense of my danger^ and the wrath of God, that I stood amazed, and my former good frames presently vanished. From the view w^iich 1 had of my sin and vileness, I was much distressed all that day, fearing that the vengeance of God would soon overtake me. I was much dejected ; kept much alone; and sometimes envied the birds and beasts their happiness, because they were not exposed to eternal misery, as I evidently saw that I was. Thus I lived from day to day, being frequently in great distress: sometimes there appeared mountains before me to obstruct my hopes of mercy; and the work of conversion appeared so great, that I thought I should never be the subject of it. I used, however, to pray and cry to God, and perform other duties with great earnestness, and thus hoped by some means to make the case better.

" Hundreds of times I renounced all pretences of any worth in my duties, as I thought, even while performing them, and often confesed to God that I deserved nothing for the very best of them, but eternal condemnation; yet still I had a secret hope oi recommending myself to God by my religious duties. When I prayed affectionately, and my heart seemed in some measure to melt, I hoped that God would be thereby moved to pity me.

My prayers then looked with some appearance oi goodness in them, and I seemed to mourn for sin. Then I could in some measure venture on the mercy of God in Christ, as I thought; though \h^ preponderating thought, \hQ foundation of my hope, was some imagination oi goodness in my meltings of heart, the warmth of my affections, and my extraordinary enlargements in prayer. Though at times the gate appeared so very strait, that it looked next to impossible to enter ; yet, at other times, I flattered myself that it was not so very difficult, and hoped I should by diligence and w^atchfulness soon gain the point. Sometimes after enlargement in duty and considerable affection, 1 hoped I had made a good step towards heaven ; and imagined that God was affected as I was, and would hear such sincere cries^ as I called them. And so sometimes, when I withdrew for secret prayer in great distress, I returned comfortable ; and thus healed myself with my duties.

" In February 1739,1 set apart a day for secret fasting and prayer, and spent the day in almost incessant cries to God for mercy, that he would open my eyes to see the evil of sin, and the way of life by Jesus Christ. God was pleased that day to make considerable discoveries of my heart to me. Still I trusted in all the duties I performed, though there was no manner of goodness in them ; there being in them no respect

to the glory of God, nor any such principle in my heart. Yet God was pleased to make my endeavours, that day, a means to show me my helplessness in some measurd.

" Sometimes I was greatly encouraged^ and imagined that God loved me, and was pleased with me,—and thought I should soon be fully reconciled to God. But the whole was founded on mere presumption^ arising from enlargement in duty, or warmth of affections, or some good resolutions, or the like. And when, at times, great distress began to arise, on a sight of my vileness, and inability to deliver myself from a sovereign God, I used to put off the discovery, as what I could not bear. Once, I remember, a terrible pang of distress seized me ; and the thought of renouncing myself, and standing naked before God, stripped of all goodness, was so dreadful to me, that I was ready to say to it, as Felix to Paul, "Go thy way for this time.'^ Thus, though I daily longed for greater conviction of sin; supposing that I must see more of my dreadful state in order to a remedy; yet, when the discoveries of my vile, wicked heart, were made to me, the sight was so dreadful, and showed me so plainly my exposedness to danmation, that I could not endure it. I constantly strove after whatever quaH-jfications I imagined others obtained before the reception of Christ, in order to recommend me to his favour. Sometimes I iek the power of a hard hearty and supposed it must be softened before Christ would accept of me ; and when I felt any meltings of heart, I hoped now the work was almost done. Hence, "when my distress still remained, I was wont to murmur at God's dealings with me ; and thought, when others felt their hearts softened, God showed them mercy; but my distress remained still.

'' At times I grew remiss and sluggish^ without any great

convictions of sin, for a considerable time together; but after

such a season, convictions seized me more violently. One

night I remember in particular, when I was walking solitarily

abroad, I had opened to me such a view of my sin, that I feared

the ground would cleave asunder under my feet, and become

my grave; and would send my soul quick into hell, before I

could get home. Though I was forced to go to bed, lest my

distress should be discovered by others, which I much feared ;

yet I scarcely durst sleep at all, for I thought it would be a

great wonder if I should be out of hell in the morning. And

though my distress was sometimes thus great, yet I greatly

dreaded the loss of convictions^ and returning back to a state

of carnal security, and to my former insensibility of impending

wrath.; which made me exceedingly exact in my behaviour,

lest I should stifle the motions of God's Holy Spirit. When

at any time I took a view of my convictions, and thought the

jiegree of them to be considerable, I was wont to trust in them:

but this confidence, and the hopes of soon making some notable advances towards deliverance, would ease my mind, and I soon became more senseless and remiss.—Again, when I discerned my convictions to grow languid, and thought them about to leave me, this immediately alarmed and distressed me.— Sometimes I expected to take a large step, and get very far towards conversion, by some particular opportunity or means I had in view.

" The many disappointments, great distresses and perplexity which I experienced, put me into a most horrible frame of contesting with the Almighty; with an inward vehemence and virulence, finding fault with his ways of dealing with mankind. I found great fault with the imputation of Adam's sin to his posterity: and my wicked heart often wished for some other way of salvation than by Jesus Christ. Being like the troubled sea, my thoughts confused, I used to contrive to escape the wrath of God by some other means. I had strange projects, full of atheism, contriving to disappoint God's designs and decrees concerning me, or to escape his notice, and hide myself from him. But when, upon reflection, I saw these projects were vain, and would not serve me, and that I could contrive nothing for my own relief; this would throw my mind into the most horrid frame, to wish there was no God, or to wish there were some other God that could control him. These thoughts and desires were the secret inclinations of my heart, frequently acting before I was aware; but, alas! they were mine^ although I was frightened when I came to reflect on them. When I considered, it distressed me to think, that my heart was so full of enmity against God; and it made me tremble, lest his vengeance should suddenly fall upon me. I used before to imagine, that my heart was not so bad as the scriptures and some other books represented it. Sometimes I used to take much pains to work it up into a good frame, a humble submissive disposition ; and hoped there was then some goodness in me. But, on a sudden, the thoughts of the strictness of the law, or the sovereignty of God, would so irritate the corruption of my heart, that 1 had so watched over, and hoped I had brought to a good frame, that it would break over all bounds, and burst forth on all sides, like floods of waters when they break down their dams.

" Being sensible of the necessity of deep humiliation in order to a saving interest in Christ, I used to set myself to produce in my own heart the convictions requisite in such a humiliation ; as, a conviction that God would be just, if he cast me off* for ever; that if ever God should bestow mercy on me, it would be mere grace, though I should be in distress many years first, and be never so much engaged in duty ; and that God was not in the least obliged to pity me the more for all past duties.

cries, and tears. I strove to my utmost to bring myself to a firm belief of these things and a hearty assent to them ; and hoped that now I was brought off from myself^ truly humbled, and that I bowed to the divine sovereignty. 1 was wont to tell God in my prayers, that now I had those very dispositions of soul which he required, and on which he showed mercy to others, and thereupon to beg and plead for mercy to me. But when I found no relief, and was still oppressed with guilt, and fears of wrath, my soul was in tumult, and my heart rose against God, as dealing hardly with me. Yet then my conscience flew in my face, putting me in mind of my late confession to God of his justice in my condemnation. This, giving me a sight of the badness of my heart, threw me again into distress ; and I wished that I had watched my heart more narrowly, to keep it from breaking out against God's dealings with me. I even wished that I had not pleaded for mercy on account of my humiliation; because thereby I had lost all my seeming goodness.—Thus, scores of times, I vainly imagined myself humbled and prepared for saving mercy. While I was in this distressed, bewildered, and tumultuous state of mind, the corruption of my heart was especially irritated with the following things.

1. " The strictness of the divine Law. For I found it was impossible for me, after my utmost pains, to answer its demands. I often made new resolutions, and as often broke them. I imputed the whole to carelessness, and the want of bein^ more watchful, and used to call myself a fool for my neghgence. But when, upon a stronger resolution, and greater endeavours, and close application to fasting and prayer, I found all attempts fail; then I quarrelled with the law of God, as unreasonably rigid. I thought, if it extended only to my outward actions and behaviours, that I could bear with it; but I found that it condemned me for my evil thoughts, and sins of my hearty which I could not possibly prevent. I was extremely loth to own my utter helplessness in this matter : but after repeated disappointments, thought that, rather than perish, I could do a little more still; especially if such and such circumstances might but attend my endeavours and strivings. I hoped^ that I should strive more earnestly than ever, if the matter came to extremity, though 1 never could find the time to do my utmost, in the manner I intended. This hope of future more favourable circumstances, and of doing something great hereafter, kept me from utter despair in myself, and from seeing myself fallen into the hands of a sovereign God, and dependent on nothing but free and boundless grace.

2. That faith alone was the condition of salvation ; that God would not come down to lower terms ; and that he would not promise life and salvation upon my sincere and hearty

prayers and endeavours. That word, Mark xvi» 16, " He that believeth not, shall be damned," cut off all hope there.—I found that faith was the sovereign gift of God ; that I could not get it as of myself; and could not oblige God to bestow it upon me, by any of my performances. (Eph. ii. 1. 8.) TTltV, I was ready to say, is a hard sayings who can hear itP J could not bear, that all I had done should stand for mere nothing ; as I had been very conscientious in duty, had been exceeding religious a great while, and had, as I thought, done much more than many others who had obtained mercy. I confessed indeed the vileness of my duties ; but then, what made them at that time seem vile, was my wandering thoughts in them; not because I was all over defiled like a devil, and the principle corrupt from whence they flowed, so that I could not possibly do any thing that was good. Hence I called what I did by the name of honest faithful endeavours ; and could not bear it, that God had made no promises of salvation to them.

3. " That I could not find out lohat faith was ; or what it was to believe and come to Christ. 1 read the calls of Christ to the weary and heavy laden ; but could find no way that he directed them to come in. I thought I would gladly come, if I knew how ; though the path of duty were never so difiicult. I read Stoddard's Guide to Christy (which I trust was, in the hand of God, the happy means of my conversion,) and my heart Jose against the author ; for though he told me my very heart all along under convictions, and seemed to be veiy beneficial to me in his directions; yet here he failed; he did not tell me any thing I could do that would bring me to Christ, but left me as it were with a great gulf between, without any direction to get through. For I was not yet effectually and experimentally taught, that there could be no way prescribed, whereby a natural man cduld, of his own strength, obtain that which is supernatural^ and which the highest angel cannot give

4." The sovereignty of God. I could not bear, that it should be wholly at God's pleasure, to save or damn me, just as he would. That passage, Rom. ix. 11—^23. was a constant vexation to me, especially verse 21. Reading or meditating on this, always destroyed my seeming good fi-ames; for when I thought I was almost humbled, and almost resigned, this passage would make my enmity against the sovereignty of God appear. When I came to reflect on the inward enmity and blasphemy, which arose on this occasion, I was the more afraid of God, and driven further from any hopes of reconciliation with him. It gave me a dreadful view of myself; I dreaded more than ever to see myself in God's hands, at his sovereign disposal ; and it made me more opposite than ever to submit to his sovereignty; for I thought God designed my damnation.

" All this time the Spirit of God was powerfully at work with me; and I was inwardly pressed to relinquish all sdf" confidence^ all hopes of ever helping myself by any means whatsoever. The conviction of my lost estate was som^imes so clear and manifest before my eyes, that it was as if it had been declared to me in so many words, ^^ It is done, it is done, it is for ever impossible to deliver yourself" For about three or four days my soul was thus greatly distressed. At some turns, for a few moments, I seemed to myself Zo«^ and undone^ but then would shrink back immediately fron^ the sight, because I dared not venture myself into the hands of God, as wholly helpless, and at the disposal of his sovereign pleasure. I dared not see that important truth concerning myself, that I was dead in trespasses and sins. But when I had, as it were, thrust away these views of myself at any time, I felt distressed to have the same discoveries of myself again; for I greatly feared being given over of God to final stupidity. When I thought of putting it off to a more convenient season^ the conviction was so close and powerful, with regard to the present tim^, that it was the best, and probably the only time, that I dared not put it off.

" It was the sight of truth concerning myself, truth respecting iny state, as a creature fallen and alienated from God, and that consequently could make no demands on God for mercy, but niust subscribe to the absolute sovereignty of the divine Being; the sight of the truth, 1 say, my soul shrank away from, and trembled to think of beholding. Thus, he that doth evil, as all unregenerate men continually do, hates the light of truth, neither cares to come to it, because it will reprove hi9 deeds, and show him his just deserts, John iii. 26. Sometime before, I had taken much pains, as I thought, to submit to thp sovereignty of God; yet I mistook the thing,—and did not once imagine, that seeing and being made experimentally sensible of this truth, which my soul now so much dreaded and trembled at, was the frame of soul which I had so earnestly desired. 1 had ever hoped, that when I had attained to that humiliation, which I supposed necessary to precede faith, then it would not be fair for God to cast me off; but now I saw it was so far from any goodness in me, to own myself spiritually dead, and destitute of all goodness, that, on the contrary, my vumth would be for ever stopped by it; ^d it looked as dread--fid to me, to see myself, and the relation I stood in to God— ' 1 a sinner and crimmal, and he a great Judge and Sovereign— as it would be to a poor trembling creature, to venture off some high precipice. Hence I put it off for a minute or two, and tried for better circumstances to do it in; either I must read a passage or two, or pray first, or something of the like nature; or else put off my submission to God's sovereignty with an ob-

VoL, X. 6

f^ MTXOnts OF B&JlI^rTKD.

jecticMi. that I did not know bow to submiL Bat the truth was I could see no saJeir in owsine mrself in the hands of a sove-' reign God. and couM lay no claim to any thing better than .ianinatioD.**

It was about this period that Bbaix£jj> wrote the following irasment. found amons his MSS. and entitled.

- Seme gloomy ojiul despondimg tkomghis of a soml tmier comci/c-tions oftim, and concern for its eternal ja/rafiow.^

1. -* I beliere mv case is tingtdar. that none eTer had so iiianr strange and different thoughts and feelings as L

2. ^ I hare been concerned much longer than many oikers I have known, or concerning whom I had read, who have been ?a^in^ converted^ and yet I am left.

3. ^ I hare triihsiood the power of conrkfions a long time ; and therefore I fear I shall be finally left of God

4^ "" I never shall be converted without stronger comridiams and greater terrors.of cc»iscience.

5. - I do not aim at the glory of God in any thing I do, and therefore I cannot hope for mercy.

6. -^ I do not see the evil nature of sin^ nor the sin of my aatmre ; and therefore I am discouraged

7. ^ The more I striee. the more T>lind and hard my heart LS. and the worse I grow continually.

S. ** I fear that God never showed mercy to one so vile as L

9. ^ I fear that I am not electedj and therefcHe must perish.

10. - I fear that the day of grace is past with me.

11. ^ I fear that I have committed the unpardonable sin.

12. ^ I am an old sinner: and if God had designed m^rcy for me. he would have called me home to himself before now."

*- After a considerable time spent in similar exercises and distresses, one morning, while I was walking in a soUtary place, as usual, I at once saw that all my contrivances and projects to effect or procure deliverance and salvation for myself, were utterly in rain ; I was brought quite to a stand, as finding myself totally lost, I had thought many times before, that the difficulties in my way were very great; but now I saw, in another and very different light, that it was for ever impossible for me to do any thing towards helping or delivering myselC I then thought of blaming myself, that I had not done more, and been more engaged, while I had opportunity—for it seemed now as if the season of doing was for ever over and gone— but I instantly saw, that let me have done what I would, it ifXKiId no more have tended to my helping myself, than what I

MEMOIRS OF BRAIXERD. !•»

had done; that I had made all the pleas I ever could havt^ 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 somewhat eased of that distress which I felt while struggling against a sight of myself, and of the divine sovereignty. I had the greatest certainty, that my state was forever miserable, for all that I could do ; and wondered that I had never been sensible of it before.

" While I remained in this state, my notions respecting m> duties were quite different from what I had ever entertained hi times past. Before this, the more I did in duty, the more hard I thought it would be for God to cast me off; though at the same time I confessed, and thought I saw, that there was no goodness or merit in my duties ; but now, the more I did in prayer or any other duty, the more I saw that I was indebted to God for allowing me to ask for mercy ; for I saw that self-interest had led me to pray, and that I had never once prayed from any respect to the glory of God. Now I saw that thero was no necessary connexion between my prayers and the bo-stowment of divine mercy ; that they laid not the least obligation upon God to bestow his grace upon me ; and that thero was no more virtue or goodness in them, than there would be in my paddling with my hand in the water^ (which was ihv comparison I had then in my mind ;) and this because they were not performed from any love or regard to God. I saw that I had been heaping up my devotions before God, fasting, praying, &c. pretending, and indeed really thinking sometimes, that I was aiming at the glory of God ; whereas 1 never once truly intended it, but only my own happiness. I saw that as I had never done any thing for God, I had no claim on any thing from him, but perdition, on account of my hypocrisy and mockery. Oh, how different did my duties now appear from what they used to do ! I used to charge them with sin and imperfection ; but this was only on account of the wanderings and vain thoughts attending them, and not because I had no regard to God in them ; for this I thought I had. But when I saw evidently that I had regard to nothing but self-interest: then they appeared a vile mockery of God, self-worship, and a continual course of lies.—I saw that something worse had attended my duties than barely a few wanderings ; for the whole was nothing but self-worship^ and an horrid abuse of God.

" I continued, as I remember, in this state of mind, from Friday morning till the Sabbath evening following, (July 12, 1739,) when .1 was walking again in the same solitary place, where I was brought to see myself lost and helpless, as before mentioned. Here, in a mournful melancholy state, 1 was attempting to pray ; but found no heart to engage in that or any other duty; my former concern, exercise, and religious aiTec-

\

tions were liow gone. I thought that the Spirit of God had quite left me; but still was not distressed; yet disconsolate, as if there was nothing in heaven or earth could make me happy. Having been thus endeavouring to pray—though, as I thought, very stupid and senseless—^for near half an hour; then, as I was walking in a dark thick grove, unspeakable glory seemed to open to the view and apprehension of my soul. I do not mean any external brightness, for I saw no such thing; nor do I intend any imagination of a body of light, somewhere in the third heavens, or any thing of that nature ; but it was a new inward apprehension or view that I had of 6rorf, such as I never had before, nor any thing which had the least resemblance of it. I stood still; wondered; and admired! I knew that I never had seen before any thing comparable to it for excellency and beauty; it was widely different from all the conceptions that ever I had of God, or things divine. I had no particular apprehension of any one person in the Trinity, either the Father, the Son, or the Holy Ghost; but it appeared to be Divine glory. My soul rejoiced with joy unspeakable^ to see such a God, such a glorious divine Bemg ; and I was inwardly pleased and satisfied, that he should be God over all for ever and ever.. My soul was so captivated and delighted with the excellency, loveliness, greatness, and other perfections of God, that I was even swallowed up in him ; at least to that degree, that I had no thought (as I remember) nXfirsts about my own salvation, and scarce reflected that there was such a creature as myself.

" Thus God, I trust, brought me to a hearty disposition to exalt him^ and set him on the throne, and principally and ultimately to aim at his honour and glory, as King of the universe. I continued in this state of inward joy, peace, and astonishment, till near dark, without any sensible abatement; and then began to think and examine what I had seen ; and felt sweetly composed in my mind all the evening following. I felt myself in a new world, and every thing about me appeared with a different aspect from what it was wont to do. At this time, the way of salvation opened to me with such infinite wisdom, suitableness, and excellency, that I wondered I should ever think of any other way of salvation ; was amazed that I had hot dropped my own contrivances, and complied with this lovely, blessed, and excellent way before. If I could have been saved by my own duties, or any other way that I had formerly cotitrived, my whole soul would now have refused it. I wondered that all the world did not see and comply with this way of salvation, entirely by the righteousness of Christ,

" The sweet relish of what I then felt, continued with me for several days, almost constantly, in a greater or less degree. —I could not but sweetly rejoice in God, lying down and

li

rising up. The next Lord^s day I felt something of the same kind, though kiot so powerful as before. But not long after I was again involved in thick darkness^ and under great distress ; yet not of the same kind with my distress under convictions. I was guilty, afraid, and ashamed to come before God; was exceedingly pressed with a sense of guilt: but it was not long before I felt, I trust, true repentance and joy in God.—About the latter end of August, I again fell under great darkness ; it seemed as if the presence of God was clean gone for ever; though I was not so much distressed about my spiritual state^ as I was at my being shut out from God's presence^ as I then sensibly was. But it pleased the Lord to return graciously to me not long after.^^

It was probably at this time that the following fragment was written, entitled

" Some signs of Godliness.

" The distinguishing marks of a true Christian^ taken from one of my old manuscripts; where I wrote as I felt and experienced^ and not from any considerable degree of doctrinal knowledge, or acquaintance with the sentiments of others in this point."

1. " He has a true knowledge of the glory and excellency of God, that he is most worthy to be loved and praised for his own divine perfections. Psal. cxlv. 3.

2. " God is his portion, Psal. Ixxiii. 25. And God's ghry, his great concern. Matt. vi. 22.

3. « Holiness is his delight; nothing he so much longs for as to be holy, as God is holy. Phil. iii. 9—12.

4. " Sin IS his greatest enemy. This he hates, for its own nature, for what it is in itself, being contrary to a holy God, Jer. ii. 1. And consequently he hates all sin, Rom. vu. 24. 1 John iii. 9.

5. " The laws of God also are his delight, Psal. cxix. 97. Rom. vii. 22. These he observes, not out of constraint, from a servile fear of hell; but they are his choice, Psal. cxix. 30. The strict observance of them is not his bondage, but his greatest liberty, ver. 45."

" In the beginning of September I went to Yale College, and entered there; but with some degree of reluctancy, fearing lest I should not be able to lead a life of strict religion, in the midst of so many temptations.—After this, in the vacancy, before I went to tarry at college, it pleased God to visit my soul with clearer manifestations of himself and his grace. I

was spending some time in prayer and self-examination, when the Lord, by his grace, so shined into my heart, that I enjoyed full assurance of his favour, for that time; and my soul was unspeakably refreshed with divine and heavenly enjoyments. At this time especially, as well as some others, sundry passages of God's word opened to my soul with divine clearness, power, and sweetness, so as to appear exceeding precious, and with clear and certain evidence of its being the word of God. I enjoyed considerable sweetness in religion all the winter following.

" In Jan. 1740, the measles spread much in college; and I, having taken the distemper, went home to Haddam. But some days before I was taken sick, I seemed to be greatly deserted, and my soul mourned the absence of the Comforter exceedingly. It seemed to me, that all comfort was forever gone.—I prayed and cried to God for help, yet found no present comfort or relief. But through divine goodness, a night or two before I was taken ill, while I was walking alone in a very retired place, and engaged in meditation and prayer, I enjoyed a sweet refreshing visit, as I trust, from above ; so ths^t my soul was raised far above the fears of death. Indeed, I rather longed for death than feared it. Oh, how much more refreshing this one season was, than all the pleasures and de lights that earth can afford! After a day or two I was taken with the measles, and was very ill indeed, so that I almost despaired of life; but had no distressing fears of death at all. Through divine goodness, I soon recovered; yet, owing to hard study, and to my being much exposed on account of my freshmanship^ as I had but Tittle time for spiritual duties, my soul often mourned for want of more time and opportunity to be alone with God. In the spring and summer following, I had better advantages for retirement, and enjoyed more comfort in religion. My ambition in my studies greatly wronged the activity and vigour of my spiritual life; yet, usually, " in the multitude of my thoughts within me, God's comforts prin" cvpcdly delighted my soul." These were my greatest consolations day by day.

" One day, I think it was in June, 1740,1 walked to a considerable distance from college, in the fields alone, at noon and in prayer found such unspeakable sweetness and delight in God, that I thought, if I must continue still in this evil world, I wanted always to be there, to behold God's glory. My soul dearly loved all mankind, and longed exceedingly that they should enjoy what I enjoyed. It seemed to be a little resemblance of heaven. On Lord's day, July 6, being sacrament-day, I found some divine life and spiritual refreshment in that holy ordinance. When I came from the Lord's table, I wondered how my fellow-students could live as I was sensible most did.

I

—Next Lord's day, July 13,1 had some special sweetness in religion.—Again, Lord's day, July 20, my soul was in a sweet and precious frame.

" Some time in August following, I became so weakly and disordered, by too close application to my studies, that I was advised by my tutor to go home, and disengage my mind from study as much as I could ; for I was grown so weak, that I began to spit blood. I took his advice, and endeavoured to lay aside my studies. But being brought very low I looked death in the face more steadfastly ; and the Lord was pleased to give me renewedly a sweet sense and relish of divine things ; and particularly October 13,1 found divine help and consolation in the precious duties of secret prayer and self-examination, and my soul took delight in the blessed God ;—so likewise on the 17th of October.

Oct. 18. " In my morning devotions, my soul was exceedingly melted, and bitterly mourned over my great sinfulness and vile-ness. I never before had felt so pungent ana deep a sense of the odious nature of sin, as at this time. My soul was then unusally carried forth in love to God, and had a lively sense of God's love to me. And this love and hope, at that time, cast out fear. Both morning and evening I spent some time in self-examination, to find the truth of grace, as also my fitness to approach God at his table the next day; and through infinite grace, found the holy Spirit influencing my soul with love to God, as a witness within myself.

Lord^s day^ Oct. 19. " In the morning I felt my soul hunger^ ing 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 ecstacy; my body was so weak, I could scarcely stand. I felt at the same time an exceeding tenderness and most fervent love towards all mankind ; so that my soul and all the powers of it seemed, as it were, to melt into softness and sweetness. But during the communion, there was some abatement of this life and fervour. This love and joy cast out fear ; and my soul longed for perfect grace and glory. This frame continued till the evening, when my soul was sweetly spiritual in secret duties.

Ocf.20. "I again found the assistance of the Holy Spirit in secret duties, both morning and evening, and life and comfort m religion through the whole day.— Oct. 21. I had likewise experience of the goodness of God in " shedding abroad his love in my heart," and giving me delight and consolation in religious duties; and all the remaining part of the week my soul seemed to be taken up with divine things. I now so longed after God, and to be freed fi-om sin, that when I felt niy-self recovering, and thought I must return to college again,

which had proved so hurtful to my spiritual interest the year past, I could not but be sieved, and thought I had much rather have died ; for it distressed me to think of getting away from God. But before I went, I enjoyed several other sweet and precious seasons of communion with God, (particularly Oct. 30, and Nov. 4,) wherein my soul enjoyed unspeakable comfort.

" I returned to college about Nov. 6, and, through the goodness of God, felt the power of religion almost daily, for the space of six weeks.—Nov. 28. In my evening devotion, I enjoyed precious discoveries of God, and was unspeakably refreshed with that passage, Heb. xii. 22—^24. My soul longed to wing away to the paradise of God; I longed to be conformed to God in all things.—A day or two after, I enjoyed much of the light of God's countenance, most of the day; and my soul rested in God.

Dec. 9. " I was in a comfortable frame of soul most of the day; but especially in evening devotions, when God was pleased wonderfully to assist and strengthen me; so that I thought nothing should ever move me from the love of God in Christ Jesus my Lord,—Oh ! one hour with God infinitely exceeds all the pleasures" and delights of this lower world.

" Towards the latter end of January, 1741,1 grew more cold and dull in religion, by means of my old temptation, viz. ambition in my studies.—But through divine goodness, a great and general Awakening spread itself over the college, about the latter end of February, in which I was much quickened, and more abundantly engaged in religion."

This awakening was at the beginning of that extraordinary reUgious commotion, through the land, which is fresh in every one's memory. It was for a time very great and general at New-Haven; and the college had no small share in it. That society was greatly reformed ; the students, in general^ became serious, ma?iy of them remarkably so, and much engaged in the concerns of their eternal salvation. However undesirable the issue of the awakenings of that day have appeared in many others^ there have been manifestly happy and abiding effects of the impressions then made on the minds of many of the members of that college. By all that I can learn concerning Brain-ERD, there can be no reason to doubt but that he had much of God's gracious presence, and of the lively actings of true grace, at that time; yet he was afterwards abundantly sensible, that his religious experiences and affections at that time were not free from a corrupt mixture, nor his conduct to be acquitted from many things that were imprudent and blameable; which he greatly lamented himself, and was desirous that others should not make an ill use of such an example. Hence, although at the time he kept a constant diary, containing a very particular

account of what passed from day to day, for the next thirteen months, from the latter end of Jan. 1741, forementioned, in two small books, which he called the two first volumes of his diary, next following the account before given of his convictions, conversion, and consequent comforts; yet, when he lay on his death-bed, he gave orders (unknown to me till after his death) that these two volumes should be destroyed; and in the beginning of the third book of his diary, he wrote thus, (by the hand of another, he not being able to write himself,) ^^The two preceding volumes, immediately following the account of the author^s conversion, are lost. If any are desirous to know how the author lived, in general, during that space of time, let them read the first thirty pages of this volume; where they will find somewhat of a specimen of his ordinary manner of living, through that whole space of time, which was about thirteen months; except that here he was more refined from some »m-pmdences and indecent heats^ than there ; but the spirit of devotion running through the whole^ was the same.''

It could not be otherwise than that one whose heart had been so prep»'ed and drawn to God, as Brainerd's had been, should be mightily enlarged, animated, and engaged at the sight of such an alteration made in the college, the town, and country; and so great an appearance of men reforming their liveS) and turning from their profaneness and immorality, to se-rioo8Hies& and concern for their salvation, and of religion re-viving and flourishing almost every where. But as an intemperate imprudent zeal, and a degree of enthusiasm soon crept in^ and mingled itself with that revival of religion; and so great and general an awakening being quite a new thing in the mnd, at least as to all the living inhabitants of it; neither people nor ministers had learned thoroughly to distinguish between solid religion and its delusive counterfeits. Even many ministers of the gospel, of long standing and the best reputation, were for a time overpowered with the glaring appearances of the latter; and therefore, surely it was not to be wondered at, that young BRAiNSRD,but a sophomore at college,should be so; who wasnot only young in years, but very young in religion and experience. He had enjoyed but little advantage for the study of divinity, and still less for observing the circumstances and events of such an extraordincffy state of things. To think it strange, a man must divest himself of all reason. In these disadvantageous circumstances, Brainerd had the unhappiness to have a tinC" ture of that intemperate, indiscreet zeal, which was at that time too prevalent; and was led, from his high opinion of Others whom he looked upon as better than himself, into such errors as were really contrary to the habitual temper of his mind. One instance of his misconduct at that time, gave grelat offence to the rulers of the college, even to fliat degree

Vol. X. 7

that they expelled him the society; which it is necessary should be here particularly related, with its circumstances.

During the awakening at college, there were several religious students who associated together for mutual conversation and assistance in spiritual things. These were wont freely to open themselves one to another, as special and intimate friends; Brainerd was one of this company. And it once happened, that he and two or three more of these intimate friends were in the hall together, after Mr. Whittelsey, one of the tutors, had engaged in prayer with the scholars; no other person now remaining in the hall but Brainerd and his companions. Mr. Whittelsey having been unusually pathetic in his prayer, one of Brainerd ^s friends on this occasion asked him what ne thought of Mr. Whittelsey ; he made answer, " He has no more grace than this chair," One of the freshmen happening at that time to be near the hall, (though not in the room,) over-heard these words. This person, though he heard no name mentioned, and knew not who was thus censured, informed a certain woman in the town, withal telling her his own suspicion, viz. that he believed Brainerd said this of some one or other of the rulers of the college. Whereupon she went and informed tlie Rector^ who sent for i\m freshman and examined him. He told the Rector the words which he heard Brainerd utter; and informed him who were in the room with him at that time. Upon this the Rector sent for them. They were very backward to inform against their friend respecting what they looked upon as private conversation; especially as none but they had heard or knew of whom he had uttered those words; yet the Rector compelled them to declare what he said, and of whom he said it.— Brainerd looked on himself as very ill used in the management of this affair ; and thought that it was injuriously extorted from his friends, and then injuriously required of him—as' if he had been guilty of some open, notorious crime—to make ^public confession, and to humble himself before the whole college in the hall, for what he had said only in private conversation.—He not complying with this demand, and having gone once to the separate meeting at New-Haven, when forbidden by the Rector ; and also having been accused by one person of saying concerning the Rector, " that he wondered he did not expect to drop down dead for fining the scholars who followed Mr. Tennent to Milford, though there was no proof oi it; (and Brainerd ever professed that he did not remember his saying any thing to that purpose;) for these things he was expelled the college.

How far the circumstances and exigencies of that day might justify such great severity in the governors of the college, I will not undertake to determine; it being my aim, not to bring reproach on the authority of the college, but only to do justice

MEMOIRS OF BRAIXERD.

51

to the memory of a person, who was I think, eminently one ot those whose memory is blessed. —The reader will see, in the sequel of the story of Brainerd^s life,* what his own thoughts afterwards were of his behaviour in these things, and in now Christian a manner he conducted himself, with respect to this affair; though he ever, as long as he lived, supposed himself ill used in the management of it, and in what he suffered.—His expulsion was in the winter, 1742, while in hi« third year at college.

* Particularly under the date, Sept. 14» 1743.

CHAPTER II.

From about the time when he began the study of Theology^ to

his Licensure.

In the Spring of 1742, Brainerd went to live with the Rev. Mr. Mills of Ripton, to pursue his studies with him, for the work of the ministry. Here he spent the greater part of the time until the Association licensed him to preach ; but frequently rode to visit the neighbouring ministers, particularly Mr. Cooke of Stratford, Mr. Graham of Southbury, and Mr. Bellamy of Bethlehem. While with Mr, Mills, he began the third book of his diary in which the account he wrote of himself, is as follows:

April 1, 1742. " I seem to be declining, with respect to my life and warmth in divine things; and have had not so free access to God in prayer, as usual of late. Oh that God would humble me deeply in the dust before him! I deserve hell every day, for not loving my Lord more, who has, I trust, loved me and given himself for me ; and every time 1 am enabled to exercise any grace renewedly, I am renewedly indebted to the God of all grace for special assistance. Where then is boasting P Surely it is excluded, when we think how we are dependent on God for the existence and every act of grace. O if ever I get to heaven, it will be because God pleases and nothing else; for I never did any thing of myself, but get away from God I My soul will be astonished at the unsearchable riches of divine grace, when I arrive at the mansions, which the blessed Saviour is gone before to prepare.

April 2. " In the afternoon, I felt in secret prayer, much resigned, calm and serene. What are all the storms of this lower world, if Jesus by his spirit does but come walking on the seas! —Sometime past, I had much pleasure in the prospect of the Heathen being brought home to Ctirist, and desired that the Lord vtrould employ me in that work: but now my sod more frequently desires to die, to be with Christ. Oh that my soul were wrapt up in divine love, and my longing desires after God increased! In the evening, was refreshed in prayer, with the hopes of the advancement of Christ^s kingdom in the world.

April 3. " Was very much amiss this morning, and had a bad night. I thought, if God would take me to himself now, my souTwould exceedingly rejoice. Oh that I may be always

MEMOIRS or BRAINERD. :>3

humble and resigned to God, and that he would cause my soul to be more fixed on himself, that I may be more fitted both for doing and suffering,

hordes day^ April 4. " My heart was wandering and lifeless. In the evening God gave me faith in prayer, made my soul melt in some measure, and gave me to taste a divine sweetness. O my blessed God ! Let me climb up near to him, and love, and long, and plead, and wrestle, and stretch after him, and for deliverance from the body of sin and death.— Alas ! my soul mourned to think I should ever lose sight of its beloved again. " O come. Lord Jesus, Amen."

On the evening of the next day^ he complains, that he seemed to be void of all relish of divine things, felt much of the prevalence of corruption, and saw in himself a disposition to all manner of sin ; which brought a very great gloom on his mind, and cast him down into the depths of melancholy; so that he speaks of himself as amazed, having no comfort, but filled with horror, seeing no comfort in heaven or earth.

April 6. y I walked out this morning to the same place where I was last iiight, and felt as I did then; but was somewhat relieved by reading some passages in my diary, and seemed to feel as if I might pray to the great God again with freedom; but was suddenly struck with a damp, from the sense I had of my own vileness.—Then I cried to God to cleanse me from my exceeding filthiness, to give me repentance and pardon. I then began to find it sweet to pray ; and could think of under^ going the greatest sufferings in the cause of Christ, with pleasure ; and found myself willing, if God should so order it, to suffer banishment from my native land, among the Heathen, that I might do something for their salvation, in distresses and deaths of any kind.—Then God gave me to wrestle earnestly for others, for the kingdom of Christ in the world, and for dear Christian friends.—I felt weaned from the world, and from my own reputation amongst men, willing to be despised^ and to be a gazing stock for the world to behold.—It is impossible for me to express how I then felt: I had not much joy, but some sense of the majesty of God, which made me as it were tremble* I saw myself mean and vile, which made me more willing that God should do what he would with me; it was all infinitely reasonable.

April 7. " I had not so much fervency, but felt somewhat as I did yesterday morning, in prayer.—At noon I spent some time in secret, with some fervency, but scarce any sweetness ; and felt very dull in the evening.

April 8. " Had raised hopes to-day respecting the Heathen. G^ that God would bring in great numbers of them to Jesus

Christ! I cannot but hope that I shall see that glorious day,— Every thing in this world seems exceeding vile and little to me ; I look so on myself.—I had some littJe dawn af comfort to-day in prayer ; but especially to-night, I think I had some faith and power of intercession with God. I was enabled to plead with God for the growth of grace in myself; and many of the dear children of God then lay with weight upon my soul. Blessed be the Lord ! It is good to wrestle for divine blessings.

Apru 9. " Most of my time in morning devotion was spent without sensible sweetness, yet I had one delightful prospect of arriving at the heavenly world. I am more amazed than ever at such thoughts ; for I see myself infinitely vile and unworthy. I feel very heartless and dull; and though I long for the presence of God, and seem constantly to reach towards God in desires : yet I cannot feel that divine and heavenly sweetness that I used to enjoy.—No poor creature stands in need of divine grace more than I, and none abuse it more than I have done, and still do.

April 10. " Spent much time in secret prayer this morning, not without some comfort in divine things, and hope I had some faith in exercise ; but am so low, and feel so little of the sensible presence of God, that I hardly know what to call faith, and am made to possess the sins of my youths and the dreadful sin of my nature. I am all sin ; I cannot think nor act, but every motion is sin. I feel some faint hopes, that God will^ of his infinite mercy, return* again with showers of converting grace to poor gospel-abusing sinners ; and my hopes of being employed in the cause of God, which of late have been almost extinct, seem now a little revived. Oh that all my late distresses and awful apprehensions, might prove but Christ's school, to make me fit for greater service, by teaching me the great lesson of humility!

Lord^s Day^ April 11. "In the morning I felt but little life, except that my heart was somewhat drawn out in thankfulness to God, for his amazing grace and condescension to me, in past influences and assistances of his spirit. Afterwards, I had some sweetness in the thoughts of arriving at the heavenly world. O for the happy day! After public worship, God gave me special assistance in prayer; I wrestled with my dear Lord, with much sweetness ; and intercession was made a delightful enfiployment to me. In the evening, as I was viewing the light in the north, I was delighted in contemplation on the glorious morning of the Resurrection.

Apru 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. Though I have been so depressed of late, respecting my hopes of future serviceableness

in the cause of God; yet now I had much encouragement respecting that matter. I was especially assisted to intercede and plead for poor souls, and for the enlargement of Christ's kingdom in the world, and for special grace for myself, to fit me for special services. I felt exceedingly calm, and quite resigned to God, respecting my future employment, when and where he pleased. My faith lifted me above the world, and removed all those mountains over which of late I could not look. I wanted not the favour of man to lean upon ; for I knew that Christ's favour was infinitely better, and that it was no matter when nor where nor how Christ should send me, nor what trials he should still exercise me with, if I might be prepared for his work and will. I now found revived in my mind, the wonderful discovery of infinite wisdom in all the dispensations of God towards me, which I had, a little before I met with my great trial at college; every thing appeared full of divine wisdom.

April 13. "I saw myself to be very mean and vile; and wondered at those who showed me respect. Afterwards I was somewhat comforted in secret retirement, and assisted to wrestle with God with some power, spirituality, and sweetness.

Blessed be the Lord, he is never unmindful of me, but always sends me needed supplies ; and from time to time, when I am like one dead, he raises me to life. Oh that I may never distrust Infinite goodness !

April 14. " My soul longed for communion with Christ, and for the mortification of mdwelling 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.

April 15. " My desires apparently centered in God ; and 1 found a sensible attraction of soul after him sundry times to-day.

I know that / long for God^ and a conformity to his will, in inward purity and holiness, ten thousand times more than for any thing here below.

April 16 and 17. " I seldom prayed without some sensible joy in the Lord. Sometimes I longed much to be dissolved and to be with Christ, Oh that God would enable me to grow in grace every day ! Alas ! my barrenness is such that God might well say. Cut it down. I am afraid of a dead heart on the Sabbath now begun. Oh that God would quicken me by his grace !

Lord'^s day April 18. " I retired early this morning into the woods for prayer ; had the assistance of God's Spirit, and faith in exercise ; and was enabled to plead with fervency for the advancement of Christ's kingdom in the world, and to intercede for dear, absent friends. At noon, God enabled me to wrestle with him, and to feel, as I trust, the power of divine love, in

prayer. At night I saw myself infinitely indebted to God, and had a view of my failures in duty. It seemed to me, that I had done, as it were, nothing for God, and that I never had lived to him but a few hours of my life.

April 19. " I set apart this day for fasting and prayer to God for his grace ; especially to prepare me for the work of the ministry^ to give me divine aid and direction, in my preparations for that great work ; and in his own time to send me into his harvest. Accordingly, in the morning, I endeavoured to plead for the divine presence for the day, and not without some life. In the forenoon, I felt the power of intercession for precious, immortal souls ; for the advancement of the kingdom of my dear Lord and Saviour in the world ; and withal, a most sweet resignation, and even consolation and joy, in the thoughts of sufiering hardships, distresses, and even death itself, in the promotion of it; and had peculiar enlargement in pleading for the enlightening and conversion of the poor Heathen. In the afternoon, God was with me of a truth. O, it was blessed company indeed! God enabled me so to agonize in [»*ayer, that I was quite wet with perspiration, though in the shade, and the cool wind. My soul was drawn out very much fi^m the world, for multitudes of souls. I thiiik I had more enlarge* ment for sinners, than for the children of God, though I felt as if I could spend my life in cries for both. I enjoyed great sweetness in communion with my dear Saviour. I think I never in my life felt such an entire weanedness from this world and so much resigned to God in every thing. Oh that I may always live to and upon my blessed God ! Amen, Amen.

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 forever devoted to his service ! The Lord help me to live more to his glory for the time to come. This has been a sweet, a happy day to me; blessed be God. I think my soul was never so drawn out in intercession for others^ as it has been this night. Had a most fervent wrestle with the Lord to-night for my enemies ; and I hardly ever so longed to li^e to God and to be altogether devoted to him; I wanted to wear out my life in his service, and for his glory.

April 21. " Felt much calmness and resignation ; and God agam enabled me to wrestle for numbers of souls, and had much fervency in the sweet duty of intercession. I enjoyed of late more sweetness in intercession for others, than in any other part of prayer. My blessed Lord really let me come near to him and plead ivith him.'^'^

The frame of mind, and exercises of soul, which he expresses the three days next following, axe much of the same kind with those expressed the two days past.

Lord*8 day, April 25. " This morning, I spent about two hours in secret duties, and was enabled, more than ordinarily, to agonize for immortal souls ; though it was early in the morning, and the sun scarcely shined at all, yet my body was quite wet with sweat. I felt much pressed now, as fi'equently of late, to plead for the meekness and calnmess of the Lamb of God in my soul; and through divine goodness, felt much of it this morning. O it is a sweet disposition, heartily to forsive all injuries done us ; to wish our greatest enemies as weU, as we do our own souls ! Blessed Jesus, may I daily be more and more conformed to thee ! At night, I was exceedingly melted with divine love, and had some feeling sense of the blessedness of the upper world. Those words hung upon me, with much divine sweetness, Psal. Ixxxiv. 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 ceppearinff before God : it is so in-> deed, in the true spiritual sense, and in the sweetest sense. I think that I have not had such power of intercession these many months, both for God^s children, and for dead sinners, as I nave had this evening. I wished and longed for the coming of my dear Lord: 1 longed to join the angelic hosts in praises, wnoUy free from imperfection. O, the blessed moment hastens ! All I want is to be more holy, more like my dear Lord. Oh for sanctification I Mv very soul pants for the complete irestoration of the blessed image of my Saviour ; that I may be fit for the blessed enjoyments and employments of the heavenly world.

'^ Farewell, vain world ; my soul can bid adieu : *^ Tour Saviour taught me to abandon you. *^ Your charms may g;ratify a sevsitax* mind; ** But cannot please a soul for Goi> design'd. •( Forbear t' entice, cease then my soul to call: '^'Tis fixed through grace; my God shall be my All« *^ While he tiius lets me heavenly glories view, '^ Tour beauties &de, my heart ^s no room for you."

"The Lord refreshed my soul with many sweet passages of his word. O the New Jerusalem! my soul longed for it. O the song of Moses and the Lamb ! And that blessed song that no man can learn, but they who are redeemed from the earth ! and the glorious white robes, that were given to the souls under the altar!

" Lord, Vm a stranger here alone; " Earth no true comforts can afford : ^^ Tet, absent from my dearest one, " My soul delights to cry * My Lord "

Vol. X, «

^ aiEifoms or brainebp.

** Jbsus, my Lord, my only love, *^ Possess my soal, nor thence depart; '^ Grant me kind visits, heavenly dove; ^^ My God shall then have all my heart."

April 26. " Continued in a sweet frame of mind; but in the afternoon, felt somewhat of spiritual pride stirrins. God was pleased to make it a humbling season at first; tnough afterwards he gave me sweetness. O my soul exceedingly lonss for that blessed state of perfect deliverance from aU sin! At night, God enabled me to give my soul up to him, to cast m]^-self upon him, to be ordered and dispos^ of according to ms 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!

April 27. " I retired pretty early for secret devotions; and in prayer, God was pleased to pour such ineffable comforts into my soul, that I could do nothing for some time but say over and over, ' O my sweet Saviour! O my sweet Saviour! whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire beside tbee.^ If I had had a thousand lives, my soul would gladly haye laid them all down at once, to have been with Christ. My soul never enjoyed so much of heaven before; it was the most refined and most spiritual season of communion with God, I e vei^ yet felt. I never felt so ^eat a degree of resignation in my life. In the afternoon, I withdrew, to meet with my God, but found myself much declined, and God made it a humbling season to my soul. I mourned over the body of death that is in me. It grieved me exceedingly, that I could not pray to and praise God with my heart ftiU of divine heavenly love. Oh that my sotil might never offer any dead, cold services to my God! In the evening had not so much divine love^ as in the morning; but had a sweet season of fervent intercession.

April 28. "I withdrew to my usual place of retirement, in great peace and tranquillity, spent about two hours in secret duties, and felt much as I did yesterday morning, only weaker, and more overcome. I seemed to depend whcJly 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 a perfect conformity to him in all things. Thirsting desires, and insatiable longings, possessed my soul after perfect holiness. God was so precious to my soul, that the world, with all its enjoyments, was infinitely vile. I had no more value for the favour of men, than for pebbles. The Lord was my all, and that he over-ruled all, greatly delighted me. I think that my faith and dependence on God, srcarce ever rose so high. I saw him such a Fountain of good-

ness, that it seemed impossible I should distrust liim again, or be any way anxious about any thing that should happen to me. 1 now enjoyed great sweetness in praying for absent friends, and for the enlargement of Christ's kingdom in the world. Much of the power of these divine enjoyments remained with me through the day. In the evening, my heart seemed to melt, and I trust was really humbled for indwelling corruption, and I mourned like a dove. I felt that all my unhappiness arose from mv being a sinner. With resignation, I could bid welcome to all other ^tnnis ; but sin hung heavv upon me ; for God discovered to me the corruption of my heart I went to bed with a heavy heart, because I was a sinner: though I did not in the least doubt of God's love. O that God would j^tir^e aw(w my dross^ and takeaway my tin^ and make me ten times refined I April 29. ^^ I was kept off at a distance from God ;—but had some enlargement in intercession for precious souls.

April 30. *'*' I was somewhat dejected in spirit: nothing grieves me so much, as that I cannot live constantly to God's glory. I could bear any desertion or spiritual conflicts, if I could but have my heart all the while burning within me with love to God and desires of his glory. But this is impossible : for when I feel these, I cannot be dejected in my soul, but only rgoice m mj^ iSoviotfr, who has deUvered me from the reigning power, and will shortly deliver me from the indwelling of sin. May 1. ** I was enabled to cry to God with fervency for ministerial qualifications, that he would appear for the advancement of his own kingdom, and that he would brin§ in the Heathen. Had much assistance in laf studies. This has been a profitable week to me; I have enjoyed manj communications of the blessed Spirit in my soul.

JLord^s day^ May 2. ^^ God was pleased this morning to give me such a sight of myself, as made me appear verv vue in my ovirn eyes, f felt corruption stirring in my heart, which I could by means suppress ; felt more and more deserted ; was exceeding wesi, and almost sick with my inward trials.

May 3. «^ Had a sense of vile ingratitude. In the morning I withdrew to my usual place of retirement, and mourned for my abuse of my dear Lord ; spent the day in fasting and prayer. God gave me much power of wrestUng for his cause and kingdom ; and it was a happy day to my soul. God was with me all the day; and I was more above the world, than ever in mv life/'

Through the remaining part of this week^ he complains almost every day of desertion, inward trials and conflicts, attended with dejeciton oi spirit; yet speaks of times of relief and sweetness, and daily refreshing visits of the divine Spirit, affording special assistance and comfort, and enabling him, at

(j0 MEHOIRS OF BRAINEKD.

times, to enjoy mueh fervency and enlargement in religiouis duties.

Lord's day^ May 9. " I think I never felt so much of the cursed pride of my heart, as well as the 8tuhbomne$8 of my will before. O dreadful! what a vile wretch I am! I could submit to be nothing, and to lie down in the dust Oh that God would humble me in the dust! I felt myself such a sinner, all day, that I had scarce any comfort. Oh when shall I be delivered ^rom the body of this death! I greatly feared, lest through stupidity and carelessness I should lose the benefit of these trials. Oh that they might be sanctified to my soul! Nothing seemed to touch me but only this, that I was a sinner. —Had fervency and refi-eshment in social prayer in the evening.

May 10. ^^ I rode to New-Haven; saw some Christian friends there ; and had comfort in joining in prayer with them, and hearing of die goodness oi God to them, since I last saw

them.

May 11. " I rode from New-Haven to Wethersfield; was very dull most of the day ; had little spirituality in this journey, though I often longed to be alone with God ; was much per-

Elexed with vile thoughts; was sometimes afi*aid of every thing: ut God was my Helper» Catched a little time for returement in the evening, to my comfort and rejoicing. Alas! 1 cannot live in the midst of a tumult. I long to enjoy God alone.

May 12. "I had a distressing view of the pride, enmity and vileness of my heart. Afterwards had sweet refreshment in conversing and worshipping God, with Christian friends.

May 13. " Saw so much of the wickedness of my heart, that I longed to get away from myself. I never before thought that there was so much spiritual pride in my soul. I felt almost pressed to death with my own vileness. O what a body of death is there in me! Lord^ deliver my soul! I could not fmd any convenient place for retirement, and was greatly exercised. Rode to Hartford in the afternoon : had some refreshment and comfort in religious exercises with Christian friends; but longed for more retirement. O the closest walk with God is the sweetest heaven that can be enjoyed on earth !

May 14. ^^I waited on a council of ministers convened at Hartford, and spread before them the treatment I had met with from the rector and tutors of Yale College ; who thought it adviseable to intercede for me with the rector and trustees, and to intreat them to restore me to my former privileges in college.* After this, spent some time in religious exercises with Christian friends.

* Tbt application which was then made on his behalf, had not the desired

success.

May 15. ^' I rode from Hartford to Hebron ; was somewhat dejected on the road; appeared exceeding vile in my own eyes, saw much pride and stubbornness in my heart. Indeed I never saw such a week as this before; for I have been almost ready to die with the view of the wickedness of my heart. I could not have thought I had such a body of death in me. Oh that God would deliver my soul P^

The three next days (which he spent at Hebron, Lebanon, and Norwich) he complains still of dulness and desertion, and expresses a sense ot his vileness, and longing to hide himself in some cave or den of the earth ; but yet speaks of some intervals of comfort and soul-refreshment each day.

May 19. ^^ (At Millington) I was so amazingly deserted this morning, that I seemed to feel a sort of horror in my soul. Alas! when God withdraws, what is there that can aiford any comfort to the soul !^^

Through the eight days next following^ he expresses more calnmess and comfort, and considerable life, fervency, and sweetness in religion.

May 28. " (At New-Haven) I think I scarce ever felt so calm in my life; I rejoiced in resignation^ and giving myself up to God, to be wholly and entirely devoted to mm for ever."

On the three following days^ there was, by the account he gives, a continuance of the same excellent frame of mind last expressed; but it seems not to be altogether to so great a degree.

June 1. " Had much of the presence of God in family prayer, and had some comfort in secret. I was greatly refreshed from the word of God this morning, which appeared exceedingly sweet to me; some things which appeared mysterious, were opened to me. Oh that the kingdom of the dear Saviour might come with power, and the healing waters of the isanctuary spread far and wide for the healing of the nations! —Came to Ripton; but was very weak. However, being visited by a number of young people in the evening, I prayed with them."

The remaining part of this week^ he speaks of being much diverted and hindered m the business of religion, by great Hreakness of body, and necessary affairs, to which he had to

attend : and complains of having but little power in religion ;

but observes, that God hereby showed him, that he was like a

Helpless infant cast out in the open field.

Hi MEMOIRii OF BRAIN£R1>. , -;>t%- \

Lord^s day^ June 6. '' I feel much desertG|^i but all thisj teaches me my nothingness and vUeness more man ever.

June 7. " Felt still powerless in secret prayer. Afterwards 1 prayed and conversed with some little life. God feeds me with crumbs ; blessed be his name for any thing. I felt a great desire that all God^s people, might know how mean and little and vile I am ; that they might see I am nothing, that so they may pray for me aright, and not have the least dependence upon me.

June 8. " I enjoyed one sweet and precious see n this day ; I never felt it so sweet to be nothings and less ^an nothing, and to be accounted nothing.^^

The three next days he complains of desertion, and want of fervency in religion ; but yet his diary shows that every day his heart was engaged in religion, as his greats and, as it were only business.

June 12. ^^ Spent much time in prayer this morning, and enjoyed much sweetness :-^Felt insatiable longings after God much of the day. I wondered how poor sout 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 Christy to behold his glory. O my weak weary soul longs to arrive at my Father^s house !

hordes day^ June 13. " Felt somewhat calm and resigned in the public worship : at the sacrament saw myself very vile and worthless. Oh that I may always lie low in the dust. My soul seemed steadily to go forth after God, in longing desires to live upon him.

June 14. "Felt somewhat of the sweetness of communion with God, and the constraining force of his love ; how admirably it captivates the soul, and makes all the desires and affections to centre in God !—I set apart this day for secret fasting and prayer, to intreat God to direct and bless me with regard to the great work which I have in view, of preaching the gospel —and that the Lord would return to me, and show me the light of his countenance. Had little life and power in the forenoon: near the middle of the afternoon, God enabled me to wrestle ardently in intercession for my absent friends : but just at night the Lord visited me marvellously in prayer. I think my soul never was in such an agony before. 1 felt no restraint; for the treasures of divine grace were opened to me. I wrestled for absent friends, for the ingathering of souls, for multitudes of poor souls, and for many that I thought were the children of God, personally^ in many distant places. I was in such an agony from sun half an hour high, till near dark, that I was all over wet with sweat: but yet it seemed to me that I had wasted

I

away the day^ and had done nothing. O my dear Saviour did sweat blood for poor souls ! I longed for more compassion towards them. Felt still in a sweet frame, under a sense of divine love and grace; and went to bed in such a frame, with my heart set on G od. -

June 15. *' Had the most ardent longings after God, wMch I ever felt in my life. At noon, in my secret retirement, I could do nothing ^/\i tell my dear Lord, in a sweet calm, that he knew I desitw X^^^^hing but himself^ nothing but holiness; that he had given me these desires, and he only could mve me the thing desired. I never seemed to be so unhinged from myself^ and to be so wholly devoted to God. My heart was swallowed up in God most of the day. In the evening I had such a view of the soul being as it were enlarged, to contain more holiness, that it seemed ready to separate from my body. I then wrestled in an agony for divine blessings ; had my heart drawn out in prayer for some Christian friends, beyond what I ever had before. I feel differently now from what I ever did under any enjoyments before; more engaged, to live to God for ever, and less pleased with my own frames. I am not satisfied with my frames, nor feel at all more easy after such strugglings than before ; for it seems far too, little, if I could always be so. O how short do I fall of my duty in my sweetest moments P'

In his diary for the two next days^ he expresses somewhat of the same frame, but in a far less degree.*

June 18. " Considering my great unfitness for the work of the ministry^ my present deadness, and total inability to do any thing for the glory of God that way, feeling myseli very helpless, and at a great loss what the Lord would have me to do ; I set apart this day for prayer to God, and spent most of the day in that duty, but amazingly deserted most of the day. Yet I found -God graciously near, once in particular; while I was pleading for more compassion for immortal souls, my heart seemed to be opened at once, and I was enabled to cry with great ardency, for a few minutes. O I was distressed to think tnat I should offer such dead cold services to the living God ! My soul seemed to breathe after holiness, a life of constant devotedness to Gt>d. But I am almost lost sometimes in the pursuit of this blessedness, and ready to sink, because I continually fall short, and miss of my desire. Oh that the Lord would help me to hold out, yet a little while, until the happy hour of deliverance comes!

* Here end Uie thirty first pages of the third volume of his diary, which he speaks of in the beginnings of this volume, (as obiserved before) as containing a speeimtn of \k\% ordinary manner of livings through the whole space of time, irom the begimiing of those two volumes th^ were destroyed.

/"

June 19. " Felt much disordered ; my spirits w^re very low : but yet enjoyed some freedom and sweetness in the duties of religion, messed be God.

^Saay^ Jiih%90. " Spent much time alone. My soul earnestly wished to DsiJiply, and reached after God ; but seemed not to obtain my desire. J hungered and thirsted; but was not refreshed and satisfied. My soul rested on God, as my only portion. Oh that I could grow in grace more abundantly every day!"

The next day he speaks of his having assistance in his studies, and power, fervency, and comfort in prayer.

June 22. ^' In the morning spent about two hours in prayer and meditation, with consideraole delight Towards night felt my soul go out in earnest desires after God, in secret retirement. In the evening, was sweetly composed and resigned to God's will; was enabled to leave mysen and all my concerns with him, and to have my whole dependence upon him. My secret retirement was very refreshing to my soul; it appeared such a happiness to have God for my portion, that 1 had rather be any other creature in this lower creation, than not come to the enjoyment of God. I had rather be a beast, than a man, without God, if I were to live here to eternity. Lord, endear thyself more to me!

In his diary for the next seven days^ he expresses a variety of exercises of mind. He speaks of great longings after Goa and holiness, and earnest desires for the conversion of others; of fervency in prayer, power to wrestle with God, composure, comfort, and sweetness, from time to time; but expresses a sense of the abomination of his heart, and bitterly complains of his barrenness, and the body of death ; and says," he saw clearly that whatever he enjoyed, better than hell, was of free grace."

He complains of falling much below the character of a child of God; and is sometimes very disconsolate and dejected.

June 30. ^' Spent this day alone in the woods, in fasting and prayer; underwent the most dreadful conflicts in my soul, which I ever felt, in some respects. I saw myself so vile, that I was ready to say,' I shall now perish by the hand of Saul.* I thought that I had no power to stand for the cause of God, but was almost' afraid of the shaking of a leaf.' Spent almost the whole day in prayer, incessantly. I could not bear to think of Christians showing me any respect. I almost despaired of doing any service in the world: 1 could not feel any hope or comfort respecting the healhen, which used to afford me some

refreshment in the darkest hours of this nature. I spent tlie day in bitterness of soul. Near night I felt a little better; and afterwards enjoyed some sweetness in secret prayer. . July 1. " Had some enjoyment in prayer this morning; and far more than usual in secret prayer to-night, and desired nothing so ardently as that God should do with me just as he pleasea,

July % " Felt composed in secret prayer in the morning.— My desires ascended to God this day, as I was travelling : and was comfortable in the evening. Blessed he God for all my con* solaiion.

July 3. " My heart seemed again to sink. The disgrace I was laid under at College, seemed to damp me ; as it opens the mouths of opposers. I had no refuge but in God. Blessed be his name, that I may go to him at all times, and find him a present help.

Lord^s day^ July 4. ^^ Had considerable assistance. In the evening I withdrew, and enjoyed a happy season in secret prayer. God was pleased to give me the exercise of faith, and thereby brought the invisible and eternal world near to my soul which appeared sweetly to me. I hoped that my weary pil-grimage in the world would be short ; and that it would not oe long before I was brought to my heavenly home and Father's house. I was resigned to God's will, to tarry his time, to do his work, and suffer his pleasure. I felt thankfulness to God for all my pressing desertions of late ; for I am persuaded that they have been made a means of making me more humble, ana much more resigned. I felt pleased to be little^ to be nothings and to lie in the dust. I enjoyed life and consolation in pleading for. the dear children of God, and the kingdom of Chrbt in the world: and my soul earnestly breathed after holiness, and the enjoyment of God. O come^ Lord Jcsus^ come q[uichlyy

By his diary for the remaining days of this week^ it appears that he enjoyed considerable composure and tranquillity, and had sweetness and fervency of spirit in prayer, from day to day.

Lord^s day ^ July 11. " Was deserted and exceedingly dejected in the morning. In the afternoon, had some life and assistance, and felt resigned. I saw myself to be exceeding vile."

On the two next days he expresses inward comfort, resignation, and strength in God.

July 14. " Felt a degree of humble resigned sweetness: spent a considerable time in secret, giving myself up whollv t:o the Lord. Heard Mr. Bellamy preach towards night; felt very sweetly part of the time: longed for nearer access to God.'""

The four next days^ he expresses considerable comfort and fervency of spirit, in Christian conversation and religious exercises.

July 19, " My desires seem especially to be after weaned-ness from the worlds perfect deadness to it, and that I may be crucified to alt its allurements. My soul desires to feel itself more of a pilgrim and stranger here below ; that nothing may divert me from pressing through the lonely desart, till I arrive vd my Father's house.

July 20. '• It was sweet to give away myself to God, to be disposed of at his pleasure. I had some feeling sense of the sweetness of being a pilgrim on earthJ*^

The next day^ he expresses himself as determined to be wholly devoted to God ; and it appears by his diary, that be spent the whole day in a most diligent exercise of religion, and with great comfort

July 22. '^ Journeying from Southbuiy to Ripton, I called at a house by the way, where being very kindly entertained and refreshed, I was filled with amazement and shame, that God should stir up the hearts of any to show so much kindness to such a dead dog as I; was made sensible in some manner, bow exceeding vile it is not to be wholly devoted to God. I wondered that God would sufier any of*^ his creatures to feed and sustain me from time to time.''

In his diary for the six next days^ are expressed various ex« ercises and experiences, such as, sweet composure and fervency of spirit in meditation and prayer, weanedness from the world, bein^ sensibly a pilgrim and stranger on the earth, engagedness of nund to spena every moment of time for God, &c.

July 29. ^ I was examined by the Association met at Dan-bury, as to my learnings and also my experience in religion, and received a licence from them to preach the gospel of Christ. Afterwards felt much devoted to God; joined in prayer with one of the ministers, my peculiar friend, in a convenient place, and went to bed resolving to live devoted to God all my days."

CHAPTER III.

From his Licensure^ till his Examination and Commission as a

Missionary.

July 30,1742. " Rode from Danbury to Southbury ; preached there, from 1 Pet, iv. 8. And above all things have fervent charity^ &c. Had much of the comfortable presence of God in the exercise. I seemed to have power with God in prayer, and power to get hold of the hearts of the people in preachmg,

Jtdy 31. " I was calm and composed, as well as greatly re^ freshed and encouraged.^^

It appears by his diary, that he continued in this sweetness and tranquillity, almost through the whole of the next week.

Lord*s day^ Aug. 8. " In the morning I felt comfortably in secret prayer; my soul was refreshed with the hopes of the Heathen coming home to Christ; was much resigned to God, and thought it was no matter what became of me. —Preached both parts of the day at Bethlehem, from Job xiv. 14. If a fMxn aie^ shall he live again^ <&c. It was sweet to me to meditate on death. In the evening, felt very comfortably, and cried to (Sod fervently in secret prayer.'

^1

It appears by his diary, that he continued through the three next days J engaged with all his might in the business of religion, and in almost a constant enjoyment of its comforts.

Aug. 13. ^^ This morning and last night I was exercised with sore inwiard trials : I had no power to pray: but seemed shut (Hit from God. I had in a great measure lost my hopes of God^s sending me among the Heathen afar off, and of seeing them flock home to CImst. I saw so much of my vileness, that I wondered that God would let me live, and that people did not stone me; much more that they would ever hear me preach! It seemed as though I never could nor should preach any more, yet about nine or ten oVlock, the people came over, and I was forced to preach. And blessed be Gt>d, he gave me his pre| sence and Spirit in prayer and preaching: so that I was much

B8 MEMOIR^OF BRAIXEKD.

assisted, and spake witli power from Job xiv. 14. Some Indians cried out in great distress,^ and all appeared greatly concerned. After we had prayed and exhorted them to seek the Lord with constancy, and hired an English woman to keep a kind of school among them, we came away about one o'clock and came to Judea^ about fifteen or sixteen miles. There God was pleased to visit my soul with much comfort. Blessed be the Lord for all things I meet with."

It appears that the two next days he had much comfort, and had his heart much engaged in religion.

Lord's day^ Aug. 15. " Felt much comfort and devotedness to God this day. At night, it was refreshing to get alone with God, and powr outmy soul. Oh, who can conceive of the sweetness of communion with the blessed God, but those who have experience of it! Glory to God for ever, that I may taste heaven below.

Aug. 16. " Had some comfort in secret prayer, in the morning.—Felt sweetly sundry times in prayer this day: but was much perplexed in the evening with vain conversation.

Aug. 17. "Exceedingly depressed in spirit, it cuts and wounds my heart, to think how much self-exultation^ spiritual pride^ and warmth of temper^ I hn\e formerly had intermingled with my endeavours to promote God's work: and sometimes I long to lie down at the feet of opposers, and confess what a poor imperfect creature I have been, and still am. The Lord forgive me, and make me for the future wise as a serpent^ and harmless as a dove / Afterwards enjoyed considerable comfort and delight of soul.

Aug. 18. " Spent most of this day in prayer and reading.— I see so much of my own extreme vileness, that I feel ashamed and guilty before God and man ; I look to myself like the vilest fellow in the land: I wonder that God stirs up his people to be so kind to me.

Aug. 19. " This day, being about to go from Mr. Bellamy's at Befiilehem, where I had resided some time, I prayed with him, and two or three other Christian friends. We gave ourselves to God with all our hearts, to be his for ever : eternity looked very near to me, while I was praying. If I never should see these Christians again in this world, it seemed but a few moments before I should meet them in another world.

Aug. 20. " I appeared so vile to myself, that I hardly dared to think of being seen, especially on account of spiritual pride. However, to-night I enjoyed a sweet hour alone with God, (at

♦ It was in a place near Kent, in the western borders of Connecticut, where there is a noxnber of Indian^.

Hipton:) I was lifted above the frowns and flatteries of this lower world, had a sweet relish of heavenly joys, and my soul did, as it were, get into the eternal world, and really taste of heaven, I had a sweet season of intercession for dear friends in Christ; and God helped me to cry fervently for Zion. Blessed be God for this season.

Aug. 21. " Was much perplexed in the morning.—Towards noon enjoyed more of God in secret; was enabled to feee that it was best to throw myself into the hands of God, to be disposed of according to his pleasure, and rejoiced in such thoughts. In the afternoon rode to New-Haven; was much confused all the way.—Just at night, underwent such a dreadful conflict as I have scarce ever felt. I saw myself exceeding vile and unworthy; so .that I was guilty, and ashamed that any body should bestow any favour on me, or show me any respect,

Lord'^s day^ Aug, 22. " In the morning continued still in perplexity.—In the evening enjoyed comfort suflicient to overbalance all my late distresses. I saw that God is the only soul-satisfying portion, and I really found satisfaction in him. My soul was much enlarged in sweet intercession for my fellow-men every where, and for many Christian friends in particular, in distant places.

Aug* 23. " Had a sweet season in secret prayer : the Lord drew near to my soul, and filled me with peace and divine consolation. Oh, my soul tasted the sweetness of the upper world; and was drawn out in prayer for the world, that it might come home to Christ! Had much comfort in the thoughts and hopes of the ingathering of the Heathen; was greatly assisted .in in-tercession for Chnstian friends.^'

He continued still in the same frame of mind the next day^ but in a less degree.

Aug. 25. "In family prayer, God helped me to climb up near him, so that I scarce ever got nearer."

The/oMr next days he appears to have been the subject of desertion, and of comfort and fervency in religion, interchangeably, together with a sense of vileness and miprofitableness.

Aug. 30. " Felt somewhat comfortably in the morning; conversed sweetly with some friends ; was in a serious composed frame; and prayed at a certain house with some degree of sweetness. Afterwards, at another house, prayed privately with a dear Christian friend or two ; and, I think, I scarce ever launched so far into the eternal world as then ; I got so far out on the broad ocean, that my soul with joy triumphed over all the evils on the shores of mortality. I think, time, and all its

gay amusements and cruel disappointments, never appeared so inconsiderable to me before. I was in a sweet frame ; I saw myself nothing, and my soul reached after God with intense desire. Oh, I saw what I owed to God, in such a manner, as I scarce ever did! I knew that I had never lived a moment to him as I should do; indeed, it appeared to me, that I had never done any thing in Christianitv : my soul longed with a vehement desire to five to God. —In the evening, sung and prayed with a number of Christians : felt the powers of the world to come in my soul, in prayer. Afterwards prayed again privately, with a dear Christian or two, and found the presence of God; was somewhat humbled in my secret retu^ment: felt my ingratitude, because I was not wholly swallowed up in God."

He was in a sweet frame great part of the next day.

. S^t. 1. " Went to Judea, to the ordination of Mr. Judd. Mr. Bellamy preabhed from Matt xxiv. 46. '' Blessed is that servant,*' &c. I felt very solemn most of the time ; had my thoughts much on that time when our Lord will come; that time refreshed my soul much; only I was afraid I should not be ioxmA faithful^ because I have so vile a heart. My thoughts were much in eternity, where I love to dwell. Blessed be God for this solemn season.—Rode home to night with Mr. Bellamy, conversed with some friends till it was very late, and then retired to rest in a comfortable frame.

Sept. 2. " About two in the afternoon, I preached from John vi. 67. Then said Jesus unto the twelve^ Will ye also go awa^? and God assisted me in some comfortable degree; but more especially in my first prayer; my soul seemed then to launch

2uite into the eternal world, and to be as it were, separated om this lower world. Afterwards preached again from Isa. V. 4. Wh(xt could have been done more^ &c. God gave me some assistance ; but I saw myself a poor worm."

On Friday^ Sept. 3. He complains of having but little life in the things of God, the former part of the day, but afterwards speaks of sweetness and enlargement.

Sept. 4. Much out of health, exceedingly depressed in my soul, and at awful distance from God. Towards night, spent some time in profitable thoughts on Rom. viii. 2. For the law of the spirit of tife^ &c. Near night, had a very sweet season in prayer; God enabled me to wrestle ardently for the advancement of the Redeemer's kingdom; pleaded earnestly for my own dear brother John, that God would make him more of a pilgrim and stranger on the earth, and fit him for singular ser-viceableness in the world ; and my heart sweetly exulted in the

Lord, in the thoughts of any distresses that might alight on him or on me, in the advancement of Christ's kingdom. It was a sweet and comfortable hour unto my soul, while I was indulged with freedom to plead, not only for myself, but also for many other souls.

Lord?8 day^ Sept. 5. " Preached all day: was somewhat strengthened and assisted in the afternoon; more especially in the evening: had a sense of my unspeakable failures in all my duties. I found, alas ! that I had never lived to God in my life.

Sept. 6. " Was informed, that they only waited for an opportunity to apprehend me for preaching at New-Haven lately, that so they might imprison me. This made me more solemn and serious, and to quit all hopes of the world's friendship; it brought me to a further sense of my vileness, aud just desert of this, and much more, from the hand of God, thoush not from the hand of man. Retired into a convenient place in the woods, and spread the matter before God.

Sq^t. 7. " Had some relish of divine thinss, in the morning. Afterwards felt more barren and melancholy. Rode to New-Haven to a friend's house, at a distance from the town ; that I might remain undiscovered, and yet have opportuni^ to do business privately, with friends which come Jo commencement.

Sept. 8. " Felt very sweetly, when I first rose in the morning. In family prayer, had some enlargement, but not much spirituality, till eternity came up before me, and looked near; I found some sweetness in the thoughts of bidding a dyins farewell to this tiresome world. Though sometime ago I redconed upon seeing my dear friends at commencement; yet being now denied the opportunity, for fear of imprisonment, I felt totally resigned, and as contented to spend this day alone in the woods, as I could have done, if I had been allowed to go to town. Felt exceedingly weaned from the world to-day. In the afternoon, I discoursed on divine things, with a dear Christian friend, whereby we were both refreshed. Then I prayed, with a sweet sense of the blessedness of communion witn God: I think I scarce ever enjoyed more of God in any one prayer. Oit was a blessed season indeed to my soul! I know not that ever I saw so much of my own nothingness, in my life ; never wondered so, that God allowed me to preach his word. This has been a sweet and comfortable day to my soul. Ble^S' ed he God. Prayed again with my dear friend, with some-^iiig of the divine presence. I long to be wholly conformed tp God, and transformed into his image.

Sept. 9. " Spent much of the day alone; enjoyed the presence of God in some comfortable degree : was visited by some 4ear friends, and prayed with them : wrote sundry letters to fri^l^s: felt religion in my soul while writing: enjoyed sweet

meditations on some scriptures. In the evening, went very privately into town, from the place of my residence at the farms, and conversed with some dear friends ; felt sweetly in singing hymns with them : and made my escape to the farms affaih, without being discovered by any enemies, as I knew of. Thus the Lord preserves me contmually.

Sept. 10. " Longed with intense desire after God; my whole soul seemed impatient to be conformed to him, and to become "holy, as he is noly." In the afternoon, prayed with a dear friend privately, and had the presence of God with us; our souls united together to reach after a blessed immortality, to be unclothed of the body of sin and death, and to enter the blessed world, where no unclean thing enters. O, with ^at intense desire did our souls long for that blessed day, that We might be freed from sin, and for ever live to and in our God! In the evening, took leave of that house; but first kneeled down and prayed ; the Lord was of a truth in the midst of us ; it was a sweet parting season; felt in myself much sweethcfss and affection in the things of God. Blessed be God for every such divine gale of his Spirit, to speed me on in my way to the new Jerusalem! Felt some sweetness afterwards, and spent the evening in conversation with friends, and prayed with some life, and retired to rest very late."

The^ve next days^ he appears to have been in an exceeding* ly comfortable frame of mind, for the most part, and to have been the subject of the like heavenly exercises as are often expressed in preceding passages of his diary; such as, having his heart much engaged for God, wrestling with him in prayer with power and ardency; enjoying at times sweet calmness and composure of mind, giving himself up to God to be his forever with great complacence of mind; being wholly resigned to the will of God, that he might do with him what he pleased ; longing to improve time, having the eternal world, as it were,' brought nigh; longing after God and holiness, earnestly desiring a complete conformity to him, and wondering how poor souls do to exi^t without God.

Sept. 16. " At night, enjoyed much of God, in secret prayer : felt an uncommon resignation, to be and do what God pleased. Some days past, 1 felt great perplexity on account of my past conduct: ;ny bitterness^ and want of christian kindness and love, has been very distressing to my soul: the' Lord forgive me my unchristian warmth^ and want of a spirit of meekness!

The next day^ he speaks of much resignation, calmness, and peace of mind, and near views of the eternal world. #

MEMOIRS OF BRAIXERP. T3

Sept. 18. " Felt some compassion for souls, and mourned that 1 had no more. I feel much more kindness, meekness, (ntlcBess, and love towards all mankind, than ever. I long to ) at the feet of my enemies and persecutors: enjoyed some sweetness in feeling my soul conformed to Christ Jesus, and given away to him for ever.

The next day^ he speaks of much dejection and discouragement, from an apprehension of his own unfitness, ever to do any good in preaching*, but blesses God for all dispensations of providence and grace ; finding that by all God weaned him more from the world, and made him more resigned.

The next ten days^ he appears to have been for the most part under great degrees of melancholy, exceedingly dejected and discouraged : speaks of his being ready to give up all for gone respecting the cause of Christ, and exceedingly longing to die: yet had some sweet seasons and intervals of comfort, and special assistance and enlargement in the duties of religion, and in performing public services, and considera;ble success in them.

^ept. 30. " Still very low in spirits; I did not know how to engage in any work or business, especially to correct some disorders among Christians ; felt as though I had no power to be faitUiil in that regard. However, towards noon, I preached fr<Hn Deut. viiL 3. And thou shalt remember^ &c. and was en^ aUed with freedom to reprove some things in Christians^ conduct, I thought very unsuitable and irregular; insisted near two hours <Hi this subject."

Through this and the two following weeks^ he passed through a variety of exercises: he was frequently dejected, and felt inward, distresses : and sometimes sunk into the depths of melancholy ; at which turns he was not exercised about the state of his soul, with regard to the favour of God, and his interest in Christ, but about his own sinful infirmities, and unfitness for GodSi service. His mind appears sometimes extremely depres-sed and sunk, with a sense of inexpressible vileness. But in the mean-time, he speaks of manv seasons of comfort, and spiritual refreshment, wherein his heart was encouraged and strengthened in God, and sweetly resigned to his will; of some seasons of very high degrees of spiritual consolation, and of his great longings after holiness, and conformity to God; of his great fear of ofiending God, and of his heart being sweetly melted in religious duties ; of his longing for the advancement of Christ^s kingdom, of his having at times much assistance in preaching, and of remarkable effects on the audience.

/4 MSMOIRS OF BRAINERD.

Lord's day^ Oct. 17. *^ Had a considerable sense of my helplessness and inability; saw that I must be dependent on God for all I want; and especially when I went to the place of public worship. I found I could not speak a word for God, without his special help and assistance* I went into the asseoBh bly trembling, as I frequently do, under a sense of my iiuniffip ciency to do any thing in the cause of God, as I ought to do. But it pleased God to afford me. much assistance, aind there seemed to be a considerable effect on the hearers. Ib the evening, I felt a disposition to praise God, for his coodaeM to me, that he had enabled me in some measure to oe fiuthfid; and my soul rejoiced to think, that I had thus performed the work of one day more, and was one day nearer my eternal^ and 1 trust my heavenly home. Oh that I ma}r be ^ taitbfbl to the death, fulfilling as an hireling my day,^* till the shades of the evening of life shall free my soul from the toils f4 the dayl This evening, in secret prayer, I felt exceedingly solemn, and such longing desires after deliverance from sin, and aftar eon-* formity to uod, as melted my heart Q I lonsed to be ^ deli> vered from this body of death !^^ I felt inward, pleasing pain, that I could not be conformed to God entirely, folly, and forever. I scarce ever preach without being first visitea with inward conflicts, and sore trials. Blessed be the Lord for these trials and distresses, as they are blessed for my humblipg*

Oct. 18. ^' In the mornins, I felt some sweetness, but still pressed through trials of soul. My life is a constant miilur^ of consolations and conflicts, and will be so till I arrive at the world of spirits.

Oct. 19. '^ This morning, and last night, I felt a sweet longing in my soul after holiness. My soul seemed so to reach and stretch towards the mark of perfect sanctity, that it was ready to break with longings.

Oct. 20. ^^ Very infirm in body, exercised with much pain, and very lifeless in divine things. Felt a little sweetness in the evening.

Oct. 21. " Had a very deep sense of the vanity of the world, most of the day; had little more regard to it, than if i had been to go into eternity the neXt hour. Through divine gOfpd* ness, I felt very serious and solemn. 0, 1 love to Iwe on tts brink of eternity^ in my views and meditations! This gives me a sweet, awful, and reverential sense and apprehension of God and divine things, when I see myself as it were, standing ft^ore the judgment seat of Christ.

Oct. 22. ^^ Uncommonly weaned fi'om the world t(Mlay: my soul delighted to be a stranger and pilgrim on the earth; I felt a disposition in me never to have any thing to do mtfi this world. The character given of some of the ancient people oif God, in Heb. xi. 13, was very pleasing to me," They conmjsed

MEMOIRS OF BRAINERD. /.)

that tiiey were pilgrims and strangers on the earth,^^ by tiieir daily practice ; and Oh that I could always do so! Spent some considerable time in a pleasant grove, in prayer and meditation. Oh it is sweet, to be thus weaned from friends, and from myself, and dead to the present world, that so I may live wholly to and upon the blessed God! Saw myself little, low, and vile in myselC In the afternoon, preached at Bethlehem, from Deut Viii. 3. God helped me to speak to the hearts of dear christians. Blessed be the Lord for this season : I trust they and I shall rejoice on this account,. to all eternity. Dear Mr. Bellamy came in, while I was making the first prayer, (bein^ re-tunied home from a journey;) and after meeting, we walked away together, and spent the evening in sweetly conversing on divine things, and praying together, with sweet and tender love to each other, and retired to rest with our hearts in a serious qixiritual frame.

Oct. 23* '^ Somewhat perplexed and confused. Rode this day from Bethlehem to Simsbury.

Lord*s day^ Oct. 24. " Felt so vile and unworthy, that I scarce knew how to converse with human creatures.

Oct. 25. " [At Turkey Hills.] In the evening, I enjoyed the divine presence, in secret prayer. It was a sweet and comfortable season to me; my soul longed for the living God: enjoyed a sweet solemnitjr of spirit, and longing desire after the recovery of the divine image in my soul. ^ Then shall I be satisfied when 1 shall awake in God's likeness,' and never be-i(we

Oa. 26. " [At West Suffield.] Underwent the most dread-fill distresses, under a sense of my own unworthiness. It seemed to me, that I deserved rather to be driven out of the place, than to have any body treat me with any kindness, or come to hear me preach. And verily my spirits were so depressed at thk time, (as at many others,) that it was impossible 1 should treat immortal souls with faithfrilness. I could not deal closely and fiuthfiiliy with them, I felt so infinitely vile in myself. O wiial duit and ashes I am, to think of preaching the gospel to^ odiprs I Indeed, I never can be faithful for one moment, biit^ siiall certainly ^^ daub with untempered mortar,'' if God do not oiuit me special help. In the evening, I went to the meetmg Bpuse, and it looked to me near as easy for one to rise out of the j^ve and preach, as for me. However, God afforded me aomp 1^ and power, both in prayer and sermon; and was pleaiied to lift me up, and show me that he could enable me to vmitiu O the wonderfril goodness of God to so vile a sinner I .Vetonied to my quarters; and enjoyed some sweetness in pmer alone, and mourned that I could not live more to God.

ycU 27. ^' I q>ent the forenoon in prayer and meditation; was not ft little concerned about preaching in the afternoon: felt

exceedingly without strength^ and very helpless indeed; and «vent into the meeting-house, ashamed to see any come to hear such an unspeakable worthless wretch. However, God enabled me to speak with clearness, power, and pungency. But there was some noise and tumult in the assembly, mat I did not well like; and I endeavoured to bear public testunony against it with moderation and mildness through the current of my discoorse. In the evening, was enabled to be in some measure tfaankib], and devoted to God."

The frames and exercises of his mind, during the four next days were similar to those of the two days past; except intervals of considerable degrees of divine peace and consolation.

The things expressed within the space of the three following day 9^ are such as these: some seasons of dejection, mourning for bemg so destitute of the exercises of grace, longing to be delivered from sin, pressing after more knowledge of God, seasons of sweet consolation, precious and intimate converse with God in secret prayer, sweetness of christian conversation, &c. Within this time, he rode from Sufiield, to Eastbury, HebroOs and Lebanon.

Nov. 4. " [At Lebanon.] Saw much of my nothingne^ most of this day : but felt concerned that I had no more sense of my insufficiency and unworthiness. O it is sweet lying in the dust! But it is distressing to feel in my soul that hell of corruption, which still remains in me. In the afternoon, had a sense of the sweetness of a strict, close and constant devoted-ness to God, and my soul was comforted with his consolations. My soul felt a pleasing, yet painful concern, lest I should spend some moments without God. O may I always live to God! In the evening, I was visited by some friends, and spent the time in prayer, and such conversation as tended to our edification. It was a comfortable season to my soul: I felt an intense desire to spend every moment for God. God is unspeakably gracious to me continually. In times past, he has given me inexpressible sweetness in the performance of duty. Frequently my soul has enjoyed much of God; but has been ready to say, " Lord, it is good to be here;" and so to indulge sloth lyhile I have lived on the sweetness of my feelings. But of late, God has been pleased to keep my soul hungry almost continually ; so that I have been filled with a kind of pleasing pain. When I really enjoy God, I feel my desires of him the more insatiable, and my thirstings afler holiness the more unquenchable ; and the Lord will not allow me to feel as though I were fully supplied and satisfied, but keeps me still reaching^ forward. I feel barren and empty, as though I could not live, without more of God ; I feel ashamed and guilty before him., t.

see that *" the law is spiritual, but I am carnal-" I do not, 1 cannot live to God. Oh for holiness! Oh for more of God in mjrsoiil! Oh this pleasing pain ! It makes my soul press after God; the language of it is," Then shall I be satisfied, when I awake in God's likeness^" but never, never before: and conse-

Juently, I am engaged to " press towards the mark," day by ay. Oh that I may feel this continual hunger, and not be retarded, but rather aniniated by every cluster from Canaan, to reach forward in the narrow -way, for the full enjoyment and possession of the heavenly inheritance! Oh that i may never loiter in my heavenly journey!"

- These insatiable desires after God^ and holiness, continued the two next days^ with a great sense of his own exceeding un-worthiness, and the nothingness of the things of this world.

LortVs day^ Nov. 7. " [At Millington.] It seemed as if such an unholy wretch as I never could arrive at that blessedness, to be " holy, as God is holy." At noon, I longed for sanctification and conformity to God. O that is the all, the all. The Lord help me to press after God for ever.

Nov. 8. " Towaros night, enjoyed much sweetness in secret prayer, so that my soul longed for an arrival in the heavenly country^ the blessed paradise of God. Through divine goodf-ness, I have scarce seen the day for two months, in which death has not looked so pleasant to me, at one time or other of the day, that I could have rejoiced that the present should be my /o^^, notwithstanding my present inward trials and conflicts. I trust, the Lord will finally make me'a conqueror^ and more than a conqueror; and that 1 shall be able to use that triumphant language, "O death where is thy sting!" And,"O*grave, where is thy victory!"

Within the next ten days^ the following things are expressed, longing and wrestling to be holy, and to live to God ; a desire that every single thought might be for God; feeling guilty, that his thoughts were no more swallowed up in God ; sweet solemnity and calmness of mind ; submission and resignation to God; great weanedness fi'om the world; abasement in the dust; gnef at some vain conversation that was observed ; sweetness from time to time in secret prayer, and in conversing and praying with Christian friends. And every day he appears to nave been greatly engaged in the great business of religion, and living to God, without interruption.

Nov. 19. " [At New-Haven.] Received a letter from the Reverend Mr. Pemberton, of New-York, desiring me speedily to go down thither, and consult about the Indian affairs in

those parts ; and to meet certain gentlemen there who were intrusted with those affairs. My mind was instantly seized with concern ; so I retired with two or three Christian friends, and prayed; and indeed, it was a sweet time with me. I was enabled to leave myself, and all my concerns with God; and taking leave of friends, I rode to Ripton, and was comforted in an opportunity to see and converse with dear Mr. Mills."

In the four next following day 8^ he was sometimes oppressed with the weight of that great affiiir, about which Mr. Pembert<m had written to him ; but was enabled from time to time to ^^ cast his burden on the Lord," and to commit himself and all his concerns to him. He continued still in a sense of the excellency of holiness, longing after it, and earnest desires i<x the advancement of Christ's kingdom in the world ; and had from time to time sweet comfort in meditation and prayer.

2Vitw. 24. " Came to New-York ; felt still much concerned about the importance of my business -, put up many earnest requests to God for his help and direction; was confused with the noise and tumult of the city ; but enjoyed little time alone with God; but my soul longed after him.

Nov. 25. ^^ Spent much time in prayer and supplication : was examined by some gentlemen, of my Christian experiences, and my acquaintance with divinity, and some other studies, in order to my improvement in that important affair of evangelizing ^e Heathen ;'^ and was made sensible of my great ignorance and unfitness for public service. I had the most abasing thoughts of myself, I think, that ever I had ; I thought myself the worst wretch that ever lived: it hurt me, and pained my very heart, that any body should show me any respect. Alas! methought how sadly they are deceived in me! how miserably would they be disappointed if they knew mv inside! O my heart! And in this depressed condition, I was K)rced to go and preach to a considerable assembly, before some grave and learned ministers; but felt such a pressure from a sense of my vileness, ignorance and unfitness to appear in public, that I was almost overcome with it; my soul was grieved for the congregation ; that they should sit there to hear such a dead dog as I preach. I thought myself infinitely indebted to the people, and longed that God would reward them with the rewards of his grace. I spent much of the evening alone."

^Theae g^entlemen who examined Mr. Brainerd, were the Correspondents tn New-York, New-Jersey, and Pennsylvania of Uie honourable Society in Scotland for propagating Christian knowledge; to whom was committed the management of their aSairs in those parts, and who were now met at New-York.

CHAPTER IV.

j^Vorn lAe time of his Examination and Commission as a Mis-sionary^ to his entrance on his Mission among the Indians at Kcnmaumeek,

Nov. 96,1742. " Had still a sense of my great vileness, and endeavoured as much as I could to keep alone. O what a nothing, what dust and ashes am 1! Enjoyed some peace and comfort in spreading my complaints before the God of all grace.

Nov. 27. " Committed my soul to God with some degree of comfort; left New-York about nine in the morning; came away with a distressing sense still of my unspeakable unwbrthiness. Surely I may well love all mv brethren ; for none of them all is so vile as I: whatever they do outwardly, yet it seems to me none is so conscious of so much guilt before God. O my leanness, mv barrenness; my carnsdity, and past bitternejss, ami want of a gospel temper! These things oppress my soul. Rode from New-York, thirty miles, to White rlains, and most of the way continued lifting up my heart to God for mercy and[ purifying grace: and spent the evening much dejected in spirit"

The three next days^ he continued in this frame, in a great sense of his own vileness, with an evident mixture of melancholy, in no small degree ; but had some intervals of comfort and God^s sensible presence with him.

Dec. 1. ^* My soul breathed after God, in sweet spiritual and longing desires of conformity to him; my soul was brought to rest itself and all, on his rich grace, and felt strength and encouragement to do or suffer any thing that divine providence should allot me. Rode about twenty miles from Stratfield to Newtown."

Within the space of the next nine days^ he went a journey from Newtown to Haddam, his native town; and after staying there some days, returned again into the western part of Connecticut, and came to Southbury. In his account of the frames and exercises of his mind, during this space of time, are such

things as these; frequent turns of dejection; a sense of his vileness, emptiness, and an unfathomable abyss of desperate wickedness in his heart, attended with a conviction that he had never seen but little of it; bitterly mourning over his barrenness, being greatly grieved that he could not live to God, to whom he owed his all ten thousand times^ crying out, ^ My leanness, my leanness !'^ a sense of the meetness and suitableness of his lying in the dust beneath the feet of infinite majesty ; fervency and ardour in prayer; longing to live to God; being afflicted with some impertinent, triflmg conversation that he heard; but enjoying sweetness in Christian conversation.

Dec. 11. "Conversed with a dear friend, to whom I had thought of giving a liberal education, and being at the whole <*liarge of it, that he might be fitted for the gospel ministry.* I acquainted him with my thoughts in that matter, and so left him to consider of it, till I should see him again. Then I rode to Bethlehem, came to Mr. Bellamy^s lodgings, and spent the evening with him in sweet conversation and prayer. We recommended the concern of sending my friend to college to the God of all grace. Blessed be the Lord for this evening's opportunity together.

hordes day^ Dec. 12. " I felt, in the morning, as if I had little or no power either to pray or to preach; and felt a distressing need of divine help. I went to meeting trembling; but it pleased God to assist me in prayer and sermon. I think my soul scarce ever penetrated so far into the immaterial world, in any one prayer that I ever made, nor were my devotions ever so free from gross conceptions and imaginations framed from beholding material objects. I preached with some sweetness, fi'om Matt. vi. 33. nut seek ye first the kingdom ofGod^ &c.; and in the afternoon, fi-om Rom. xv. 30. And now I beseech you brethren^ &c. There was much afiection in the assembly. This has been a sweet Sabbath to me; and blessed be God, I have reason to think that my religion is become more spiritual, by means of my late inward conflicts. Amen. May I always be wifling that God should use his own methods with me!

^ * Braiserd, havings now undertaken the business of a missionary to the Indians, and expecting in a little time to leave his native country, to go among the savages into the wilderness, far distant, and spend the remainder of hia life among Uiem—and having some estate left him by his father, and thinking he should have no occasion for it among them, (though afterwards, as he told me, he foand himself mistaken,)—set himself to think which way he might spend it most for the glory of God; and no way presenting to his thoughts, wherein he could do more good with it, than by being at the charge of educating some young person for the ministry, who appeared to be of good abilities, and weU disposed, he fixed upon the person here spoken of to this end. Accordingly he was soon put to learning; and Braiwerd continued to be at the charge of his education firom year to year, so long as he lived, which was till this young man was carried through his third year in college.

Dec. 13. ^- Joined in prayer with Mr. Bellamy; and found sweetness and composure in parting with him, as he went a journey. Enjoyed some sweetness tnrough the day ; and just at night rode down to Woodbury.

Dec. 14. " Some perplexity nuns; on my mind; I was distressed last night and this morning for the interest of Zion, especially on account of the false appearances of religion^ that do but rather breed confusion, especially in some places. I cried to God for help, to enable me to bear testimony against those things, which, instead of promoting, do but hinder the progress of vital piety. In the afternoon, rode down to South-bury ; and conversed again with my friend about the important affair of his pursuing the work of the ministry; and he appeared much inclined to devote himself to that work, if God should succeed his attempts-to qualify himself for so great a work. In the evening I preached from 1 Thess. iv. 8. He therefore that despiseth^ &c. and endeavoured, though with tenderness, to undermine false religion. The Lord gave me some assistance; but, however, I seemed so vile, I was ashamed to be seen when I came out of the meeting-house.

Dec. 15. " Enjoyed something of God to-day, both in secret

and in social prayer; but was sensible of much barrenness and

defect in duty, as well ag my inability to help myself for the

time to come, or to perform the work and business I have to

do. Afterwards, felt much of the sweetness of religion, and

the tenderness of the gospel-temper. I found a dear love to all

mankind, and was much afraid lest some motion of anger or

resentment should, some time or other, creep into my heart.

Had some comforting, soul-refreshing discourse with dear

friends, just as we took our leave of each other ; and supposed

it might be likely we should not meet again till we came to the

eternal world.* I doubt not, through grace, but that some of

Us shall have a happy meeting there, and bless God for this

Season, as well as many others. Amen.

Dec. 16. " Rode down to Derby; and had some sweet thoughts on the road : especially on the essence of our salvation by Christ, from these words, Thou shalt call his name Jesus^

Dec. 17. "Spent much time in sweet conversation on spiritual things with dear Mr. Humphreys. Rode to Rip-ton ; spent some time in prayer with dear Christian friends.

Dec. 18. " Spent much time in prayer in the woods; and

"** It had been determined by the commissioners, who employed Brainerb ^ a missionary, that he should go as soon as might be, convenienUy, to the In-^ans Uving near the Forks of Delaware river, in Pennsylvania, and the Indians On Snsquehannah river; which being far off, where also he would be exposed to many hardships and dangers, was the occasion of his taking leave of his friends in tins manner.

Vob.x. n

seemed raised above the things of the world: my soul was strong in the Lord of hosts; but was sensible of great barrenness.

hordes day^ Dec. 19. "At the sacrament of the Lord^s supper I seemed strong in the Lord ; and the world, with all its frowns and flatteries, m a great measure disappeared, so that my soul had nothing to do with them ; and I felt a disposition to be wholly and for ever the Lord^s.—In the evening, enjoyed something of the divine presence; had a humbling sense of my vileness, barrenness, and sinfiilness. Oh, it wounded me to think of the misimprovement of time! God he merciful to me a sinner,

Dec. 20. " Spent this day in prayer, reading, and writing; and enjoyed some assistance, especially in correcting some thoughts on a certain subject; but had a mournful sense of my barrenness.

Dec. 2L " Had a sense of my insufliciency for any public work and business, as well as to live to God. I rode over to Derby, and preached there. It pleased God to give me very sweet assistance and enlargement, and to enable me to speak with a Soft, tender power and energy.—We had afterwards a comfortable evening in singing and prayer. God enabled me to pray with as much spirituality and sweetness as I have done for some time: my mind seemed to be unclothed of sense and imagination, and was in a measure let into the immateriid world of spirits. This day was, I trust, through infinite goodness, made very profitable to a number of us, to advance our souls in holiness and conformity to God: the glory be to him for ever. Amen. Hoto blessed is it to grow more and more like God.

Dec. 22. " Enjoyed some assistance in preaching at Ripton; but my soul mourned within me for my barrenness.

Dec. 23. " Enjoyed, I trust, the presence of God this mom* ing in secret. On, how divinely sweet is it to come into the secret of his presence, and abide in his pavilion!—^Took an afiectionate leave of friends, not expecting to see them again for a very considerable time, if ever in this world. Rode with Mr. Humphreys to his house in Derby; spent the time in sweet conversation ; my soul was refreshed and sweetly melted with divine things. Ob that I was always consecrated to God I Near night, I rode to New-Haven, and there enjoyed some sweetness in prayer and conversation, with some dear Christian friends. My mmd was sweetly serious and composed; but alas! I too much lost the sense of divine things.^^

He continued much in the same frame of mind, and in like exercises, the two following days.

hordes Day^ Dec. 26. '' Felt much sweetness and tenderness in prayer, especially my whole soul seemed to love my worst enemies, and was enabled to pray for those that are strangers and enemies to God, with a great decree of softness and pathetic fervour. In the evening, rode from New-Haven to Branfcml, after I had kneeled down and prayed with a number of dear Christian friends in a very retired place in the woods, and so parted.

D^c 27* ^*' Enjoyed a precious season indeed; had a sweet melting sense of divine things, of die pure spirituality of the religion of Christ Jesus. In the evening, 1 preached from Matt. vL 33. But seek ye Jirst^ &c. with much freedom, and sweet power and pungency: the presence of God attended our meetiiig. Oh, the sweetness, the tenderness I felt in my soul! If ever I felt the temper of Christ, I had some sense of it now. Blessed be my God, I have seldom enjoyed a more comfortable and profitable day than this. Oh, that I could spend all my time for God I

JDec 28. '' Rode from Branford to Haddam. In the morning my clearness and sweetness in divine things continued: but afterwards my spiritual life sensibly declined.^'

The next twelve days^ he was for the most part extremely <lejected, discouraged, and distressed; and was evidently very much QiKler the power of melancholy. There are from day to day most bitter complaints of exceeding vileness, ignorance, suid corruption; an amazing load of gmlt, unwortbiness, even X.O creep on God^s earth, everlasting uselessness, fitness for no-^tiiing, dLC. and sometimes expressions even of horror at the tiioii^ts of ever preaching again. But yet, in this time of ^reat dejection, he speaks of several intervals of divine help ^nd cmnfort.

The three next days^ which were spent at Hebron and the Orank, (a parish in Lebanon,) he had relief, and enjoyed considerable comfort. _

Jan. 14,1743. '^ My spiritual conflicts to-day were unspeak-Uy dreadful, heavier than the mountains and overflowing floods. I seemed inclosed, as it were, in hell itself: 1 was deprived of all sense of God, even of the being of a God ; and that was my misery. I had no awfiil apprehensions of God as angry. This was distress, the nearest akin to the damned^s tormeats, that I ever endured: their torment, I am sure, will ccHudat. much in a privaJtion of God^ and consequently of all ^good» . This taught me the absolute dependence of a creature upon God the Creator, for every crumb of happiness it enjoys. Oh, I feel that, if there b 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 reptile. My soul was in such anguish I could not eat; but felt as I suppose a

roor wretch would that is just going to the place of executioR. was almost swallowed up with anguish, when I saw people gathering together, to hear me preach. However, I went in that distress to the house of God, and found not much relief in the first prayer: it seemed as if God would let loose the pe<H>Ie upon me to destroy me; nor were the thoughts of death oich tressing to me, like my own vileness. But afterwards in my discourse from Deut. viii. 2. God was pleased to give me some freedom and enlargement, some power and spirituali^; and I spent the evening somewhat comfortably."

The two next day8^ his comfort continues, «md he seems to enjoy an almost continual sweetness of soul in the duties and exercises of religion and christian conversation. On Monday was a return of the gloom he had been under the Friday before. He rode to Coventry this day, and the latter part dt Uie day had more fi'eedom. On Tuesday he rode to Canterbury^ and continued more comfortable.

Jan. 19. "[At Canterbur}'.] In the afternoon preached the lecture at the Meeting-house; felt some tenderness, and somewhat of the gospel temper: exhorted the people to love one another, and not to set up their own frames as a standard by which to try all their brethren. But was much pressed, most of the day, with a sense of my own badness, inward inii* purity, and unspeakable corruption. Spent the evening in tender, Christian conversation.

Jan. 30. " Rode to my brother's house between Norwich and Lebanon; and preached in the evening to a number of people: enjoyed neither freedom nor spirituality, but saw myself exceeding unworthy.

Jan. 21. " Had great inward conflicts; enjoyed but little comfort. Went to see Mr. Williams of Lebanon, and spent several hours with him; and was greatly delighted with his serious, deliberate, and impartial way of discourse about religion."

The next day he waS much dejected.

hordes day^ Jan. 23. I scarce ever felt myslelf so unfit to exist as now: saw I was not worthy of a place amonff the Indians, where I am going, if God permit: thought I should be ash.amed to look them in the face, and much more to have any respect shewn me there. Indeed I felt myself banished from the earth, as if all places were too good for such a wretch. I thought I should be ashamed to go among the very

savages of Africa; 1 appeared to myself a creature fit for nothing, neither neaven nor earth.—None know, but those who feel it, what the soul endures that is sensibly shut out from the presence of God: alas ! it is more bitter than death/'

On Monday he rode to Stonington, Mr. Fish's parish.—On Tuesday he expresses considerable degrees of spiritual comfort and refreshment.

Jan. 26. " Preached to a pretty large assembly at Mr. Fish's meeting house : insisted on humility and steadfastness in keep ing God's commands; and that through humility we should prefer one another in love, and not make our own frames the rule by which we judge others. I felt sweetly calm, and full of brotherly love: and never more free from party spirit. I hope some good will follow; that Christinns will be freed from false Joy, and party zeal, and censuring one another."

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

Jan. 28. " Here 1 found some fallen into extravagancies ; too much carried away with a false zeal and bitterness. Oh, the "want of a gospel temper is greatly to be lamented. Spent the evening in conversing about some points of conduct in both Tninisters and private Christians; but did not agree with them, ^od had not taught them with briars and thorns to be of a Ikind disposition towards mankind."

On Saturday^ he rode to East-Haddam, and spent the three

^^oUowing days there. In that space of time he speaks of

feeling weanedness from the world, a sense of the nearness of

eternity, special assistance in praying for the enlargement of

Christ's kingdom, times of spiritual comfort, &c.

Feb* 2. " Preached my farewell sermon last night, at the house of an aged man, who had been unable to attend on the public worship for some time. This morning, spent the time in prayer, almost wherever I went; and having taken leave of friends, I set out on my journey towards the Indians ; though I was to spend some time at East-Hampton, on Long-Island, by leave of the commissioners who employed me in the Indian affair ;* and being accompanied by a messenger from East-

* The reaaon why the commissioners or correspondents did not order Braijt-SED to go immediatelyto the Indians, and enter on his business as a missionary was, that the winter was not judged to be a convenient season for him first to go oQt into the wilderness, and enter on the difficulties and hardships to which he miut there be exposed.

Hampton, we travelled to Lyme. On the road I felt an uncommon pressure of mind: I seemed to struggle hard for some pkasure in something here below, and seemed loth to give up all for gone; saw 1 was evidently throwing myself into all hardships and distresses in my present undertaking. I thought it would be less difficult to lie down in the grave; but yet I chose to go, rather than stay.—Came to Lyme that night.^^

He waited the two next days for a passage over the sound, and spent much of the time in inward conflicts and dejection, but had some comfort

On Sahirday he crossed the Sound, landed at Oyster-pond-

e>int cm Long-Island, and travelled from thence to East-ampton. And the seven following days he spent there, for the most part, under extreme dejection and gloominess of mind with great complaints of darkness, ignorance, &c. Yet his heart appears to have been constantly engaged in the great business of religion, much concerned for the interest of religion in East-Hampton, and praying and labouring much for it.

Feb. 12. " Enjoyed a little more comfort; was enabled to meditate with some composure of mind; and especially in the evening, found my soul more refreshed in prayer, than at any time of late; my soul seemed to " take hold of Uod's strength," and was comforted with his consolations. O, how sweet are some glimpses of divine glory ! how strengthening and quickening !

Lord^s day^ Feb. 13. " At noon, under a great degree of discouragement ; knew not how it was possible for me to preach in the afternoon. I was ready to give up all for gone; but God was pleased to assist me in some measure. In the evening my heart was sweetly drawn out after God, and devoted to him.'*

The next day^ he had comfort and dejection intermingled.

Feb. 15. " Early in the day I felt some comfort; afterwards I walked into a neighbouring grove, and felt more as a stranger on earth, I think, than ever before; dead to any of the enjoyments of the world, as if I had been dead in a natural sense.— In the evening, had divine sweetness in secret duty; God was then my portion, and my soul rose above those deep waters^ into which I have sunk so low of late.—My soul then cried for Zion, and had sweetness in so doing.''

This sweet frame continued the next morning; but afterwards his inward distress returned.

Feb. 17. " In the morning, found myself comfortable, and rested on God in some measure.—Preached this day at a little idllage belonging to East Hampton ; and God was pleased to give me his gracious presence and assistance, so that I spake ivith freedom, boldness, and some power. In the evening spent some time with a dear Christian friend; and felt serious, as on the brink of eternity. My soul enjoyed sweetness in lively apprehensions of standing before the elorious God: prayed with my dear friend with sweetness, and discoursed with the utmost solemnity. And truly it was a little emblem of heaven itselt—I Bnd my soul is more refined and weaned from a dependence on my frames and spiritual feelings.

Feb. 18. " Felt somewhat sweetly most of the day, and found access to the throne of grace. Blessed be the Lord for any intervals of heavenly delight and composure, while 1 am engaged in.the field of battle. Oh, that I might be serious, solemn, and always vigilant, while in an evil worla! Had some opportunity alone to day, and found some freedom in study. 0,1 long to live to GodI

Feb. 19. "Was exceeding infirm to-day, greatly troubled with pain in my head and dizziness, scarce able to sit up. However, enjoyed something of God in prayer, and performed some necessary studies. I exceedingly longed to die; and yet, through divine goodness, have felt very willing to live, for two or three davs past.

Lord*8 day^ Feb. 20. " I was perplexed on account of my carelessness; thought I could not be suitably concerned about the important work of the day, and so was restless with my easiness. Was exceeding infirm again to-day; but the Lord strengthened me, both in the outward and inward man, so that J preached with some life and spirituality, especially in the afternoon, wherein I was enabled to speak closely against selfish religion; that loves Christ for his benefits, but not for himself.'*

During the next j^ortnight^ it appears that for the most part he enjoyed much spirituafpeace and comfort. In his diary for this space of time, are expressed such things as these; mourning over indwelling sin, and unprofitableness; deadness to the world; longing after God, and to live to his glory; heart melting desires after his eternal home ; fixed reliance on God for km help; experience of much divine assistance, both in the ivivate and public exercises of religion; inward strength and courage in the service of God; very frequent refreshment, consolation, and divine sweetness in meditation, prayer, preach* ing, and christian conversation. ■ And it appears by his account, that this space of time was filled up with great diligence and earnestness in serving God, in study, prayer, meditation, preaching and privately instructing and counselling.

March 7. " This morning when I arose, I found my hearty forth after God in longing desires of conformity to hun, and m secret prayer found myself sweetly quickened and drawn out in praises to God for all he had done to and for me, and for aH my inward trials and distresses of late. My heart ascribed glory, glory, glory to the blessed God! and bid welcome to all iifward distress again, if God saw meet to exercise me with it. Tknc appeared but an inch long, and eternity at hand; and I thought I could with patience and cheerfulness bear any thing for the cause of God; for I saw that a moment would bring me to a world of peace and blessedness. My soul, by the strength of the Lord, rose far above this lower world, and all the vain amusements and frightful disappointments of it Afterwards, had some sweet meditation on Genesis v. 24. And Enoch walked with God^ &c. Thb was a comfortable day to my soul.*'

The next day, he seems to have continued in a considerable degree of sweetness and fervency in religion.

March 9. " Endeavoured to commit myself, and all my concerns to God. Rode sixteen miles to Montauk,* and had some inward sweetness on the road ; but somewhat of flatness and deadness after I came there and had seen the Indians. I- with-drew, and endeavoured to pray, but found myself awftiily deserted and left, and had an afflicting sense of my vileness and meanness. However, I went and preached from Is. liii. 10. Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise him, &c. Had some assist- • ance; and I trust somewhat of the divine presence was among ' us. In the evening, I again prayed and exhorted among theib,^ after having had a season alone, wherein I was so pressed witlu the blackness of my nature, that I thought it was not fit for me to speak so much as to Indians.^^

The next day he returned to East-Hampton; was exceeding infirm in body, through the remaining part of this week ; but speaks of assistance and enlargment in study and religious exer cises, and of inward sweetness, and breathing after God.

Lord^s day, March 13. " At noon, I thought it impossible fc me to preach, by reason of bodily weakness, and inward dew ness. In the first prayer, I was so weak that I could hard stand ; but in the sermon God strengthened me, so that I spa near an hour and a half with sweet fi*eedom, clearness, a some tender power from Gen. v. 24. And Enoch walked to God. I was sweetly assisted to insist on a close walk with C and to leave this as my parting advice to God's people hi that they should walk with God. May the God of all gr succeed my poor labours in this place!

♦ Montaak is the eastern cape or end of Long-Island, inhabited chiefly b dians.

March 14. " In the morning, was very busy in preparation for my journey, and was almost continually engaged in ejacula-tory. prayer. About ten, took leave of the dear people of East-Hampton ; my heart grieved and mourned, and rejoiced at the same time ; rode near fifty miles to a part of Brook-Haven, and lodged there, and had re&eshing conversation with a Christian friend."

In two days more, he reached New-York; but complauis of much desertion and deadness on the road. He stayed one day in New-York, and on Friday went to Mr. Dickinson's at Elizabeth-Town. His complaints are the same as on the two preceding days.

March 19. "Was bitterly distressed under a sense of my ignorance, darkness, and unworthiness; got alone, and poured out my complaint to God in the bitterness of my soul, in the afternoon, rode to Newark, and had some sweetness in con-Tersation with Mr. Burr,* and in praying together. O blessed l)e God for ever and ever, for any enlivening and quickening ^seasons.

Lord^s day, March 20. " Preaphed in the forenoon: God ^ve me some assistance and sweetness, and enabled me to speak with real tenderness, love, and impartiality. In the evening preached again; and of a truth, God was pleased to assist a poor worm. Blessed be God, I was enabled to speak with life, power, and desire of the edification of God's people, and with some power to sinners. In the evening, I felt spiritual and watchful, lest my heart should by any means be drawn away from God. O 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 he speaks of his being with a number of ministers ;t and, the day following

* Afterwards President Burr, of Nassaa Hall.

t These ministers were the Corretpondents who now met at Woodbridg^e, and gave Braotkbi) new directions. Instead of sending; him to the Indians i^ the Forks of Deleware, as before intended, they order^ him to g^o to a number of Indnuis at Kaananmeek; a place in the province of New-York, in the woods between Stockbrid^ and Albany. Tins alteration was occasioned by two things. 1. Information which the correspondents had received of some contention now snbsisting between the white people and the Indians at Delaware, con-earning their lands; which they sappwed wonld be a hindrance, at present, to ^leir entertainment of a missionary, and to his success among them. 2. Some intimations which they had receivi^ firom Mr. Sergeant, Missionary to the Indians at Stoekbridge, concerning the Indians at Kaunanmeek, and the hopefal project of sQcccM which a Missionary might have among them.

Vol. X. 11

of his travelling part of the way towards New-York. On Wednesday^ he came to New-York. On Thursday^ he rode near fifty miles, from New-York to North-Castle. On Friday^ went to Danbury. Saturday to New-Milford. On the StMnxth he rode five or six miles to the place near Kent in Connecticut, called Scaticocke, where dwell a number of Indians,! and preached to them. On Monday being detained by the rain, he tarried at Kent. On Tuesday^ he rode from Kent to Salisbury. Wednesday^ he went to Sheffield. Thursday^ March 31, he went to Mr. Sergeant^s at Stockbridge. He was dejected and very disconsolate, through the main of this journey from New-Jersey to Stockbridge; and especially on ue last day his mind was overwhelmed with pecidiar gloom and melancholy.

t These were the same Indians which Brainsrd mentions in his Diary, An*^ gust 12,1742.

CHAPTER V.

From the Commencement of his labours at Kaunaumeek^tohu

Ordination.

April 1,1743. " I rode to Kaunaumeek, near twenty miles from Stockbridge, where the Indians live with whom I am con-. cerned, and there lodged on a little heap of straw. I was greatly exercised with inward trials and distresses all day; and in the evening, my heart was swik, and I seemed to have no God to go to. Oh that God would help me !^^

The next five days, he was for the most part in a dejected, depressed state of mind, and sometimes extremely so. He speaks of God^s ^' waves and billows rolling over his soul ;'*'' and of his being ready sometimes to say, ^^ Surely his mercy is clean gone forever, and he will be favourable no more; and says, the anguish he endured, was nameless and inconceivable; but at the same time speaks thus concerning his distresses, " What God designs by all my distresses, I know not; but this 1 know^ I deserve them all, and thousands more.'' He gives an account of the Indians kindly receiving him, and being seriously attentive to his instructions.

April 7. " Appeared to'myself exceedingly ignorant, weak, helpless, unworthy, and altogether unequal to my work. It

. seemed to me, that I should never do any service, or have any success among the Indians. My soul was weary of my life; I longed for death, beyond measure. When I thought of any go^y soul departed, my soul was ready to envy him his privilege, thinking," O when will my turn come ! must it be years iirst!" But I know these ardent desires, at this and other times, rose partly for want of resignation to God under all miseries ; and so were but impatience. Towards night, I had the exer-

. cise of faith in prayer, and some assistance in writing. Oh

. that God would keep me near him !

April 8. " Was exceedingly pressed under a sense of my pride^ selfishness, bitterness, and party spirit, in times past,

. while I attempted to promote the cause of God. Its vile na-

ture and dreadful consequences appeared in such odious colours to me, that my very heart was pamed. I saw how poor souls stumbled over it into everlasting destruction, that 1 was constrained to make that prayer in the bitterness of my soul, " O Lord, deliver me from blood-ffuiltiness." I saw my desert of hell on this account. My soul was full of inward anguish and shame before God, that I had spent so much time in conversation tending only to promote a party-spirit. I saw that I had not suitably prized mortification, seff-denial, resi^ation under all adversities, meekness, love, candour, and holiness of heart and life: and this day was almost wholly spent in such bitter, and soul-afflicting reflections on my past firames and conduct. 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 within myself. The Lord be merciful to me a sinner^ md wash my soul I

April 9. ^^ Remained much in the same state as yesterday, excepting that the sense of my vileness was not so quick and acute.

Lord*8 day^ April 10. ^^ Rose early in the moniiiig, and walked out and spent a considerable time in the woods, in prayer and meditation. Preached to the Indians, both forenoon and afternoon. They behaved soberly ingen^nd: two or three in particular appeared under some religious concern ; with whom I discoursed privately; and one told roe, ^^ that her heart had cried, ever since she had heard me preach first''

The next day^ he complains of much desertion.

April 12. " Was greatly oppressed with grief and shame, reflecting on my past conduct, my bitterness and party zetd. I was ashamed, to think that such a wretch as 1 had ever preached. Longed to be excused fi-om that work. And when my soul was not in anguish and keen distress, ^^ I felt senseless as a beast before God,'' and felt a kind of guilty amusem^it with the least trifles ; which still maintained a kind of stifled horror of conscience, so that I could not rest any more than a condemned malefactor.

April 13. " My heart was overwhelmed within me: I verily thought that I was the meanest, vilest, most helpless, guilty, ignorant, benighted creature living. And yet I knew what God had done for my soul, at the same time: thou^ sometimes I was assaulted with damping doubts and fears, whether it was possible for such a wretch as I to be in a state of grace.

April 14. " Remained njiuch in the same state as yesterday.

April 15. " In the forenoon, very disconsolate. In the afternoon, preached to my people, and was a little encouraged

in some hopes that God misht bestow mercy on their souls. Felt somewhat resigned to God under all dispensations of his providence.

April 16. Still in the depths of distress. In the afternoon, preached to my people; but was more discouraged with them than before; feared that nothing would ever be done for them to any happy effect. I retired, and poured out my soul to God for mercy; but without any sensible relief. Soon after came an Irishman and a Dutchman, with a design, as they said to hear me preach the next day; but none can tell how I felt, to hear their profane talk. O I longed that some dear Christian knew my distress. I got into a kind of hovel, and there groaned ouj my complaint to God; and withal felt more sensible gratitude and thankfulness to God, that he had made me to oifi!^ from these men, as I knew thrpu^ grace he had.

Lord*s day J April 17. ^^ In the morning, was again distress' ed as soon as I awaked, hearing much tdk sJbout the world, and the thin^ of it I perceived that the men were in som^ measure afraid of me; and 1 discoursed about sanctifying the Sabbath, if possible to solemnize their minds; but when they were at a little distance, they again talked freely about secular affairs. O I thought what a hdl it would be, to live with such men to eternity! The Lord gave me some assistance in preach-ingy all day, and some resignation, and a small degree of com-fyit in prayer, at night.^'

He continued in this disconsolate frame'^the next day.

April 19. ^^ In the morning, I enjoyed some sweet repose and rest in God; felt some strength and confidence in him ; and my soul was in some measure refreshed and comforted. Spent most of the day in writing, and had some exercise of grace, sensible and comfortable. My soul seemed lifted above the deq^ uHxters, wherein it has been so long almost drowned ; felt some q>iritual longings.and breathings of soul after God ; and found myself engaged for the advancement of Christ\i kingdom in my own soul.

April ^. ^ Set apart this day for fasting and prayer, to bow my sool before God for the bestowment of divine grace ; espe-cialfy that all my spiritual afflictions, and inward distresses, mig^t be sanctified to my soul. And endeavoured also to re-m^nber the goodness of God to me the year past, this day being my birth day. Having obtained help of God, I have hitherto lived, and am now arrived at the age of twenty-five y^tfs. My soul was pained to think of my barrenness and deadness; that I have lived so little to the glory of the eternal God. I spent the day in the woods alone, and there ponred

d4 • MEMOIRS OF BIIAINERD.

out my complaint to God. Oh that God would enable me to live to his glory for the future!

April 21. " Spent the forenoon in reading and prayer, and found myself engaged; but still much depressed in spirit under a sense of my viTeness, and unfitness for any public service. In the afternoon, I visited my people, and prayed and conversed with some about their souls^ concerns: and afterwards found some ardour of soul in secret prayer. Oh that I might grow up into the likeness of God!

April 22. ^^ Spent the day in study, reading, and prayer; and felt-a little relieved of my burden, that has been so heavy of late. But still was in some measure oppressed; and had a sense of barrenness. O my leanness testifies against me I my very soul abhors itself for its unlikeness to God, its inactivity ana sluggishness. When I have done all, alas, what an unprofitable servant am I! My soul groans to see the hours of the day roll away, because I do not fill them in spirituality and heavenly-mindedness. And yet I long that they should speed their pace, to hasten me to my eternal home, where I may fiirup all my moments, through eternity, for God and his glory."

' On Saturday and Lord'^s day^ his melancholy again preyail-ed; he complained of his ignorance, stupidity, and senselessness ; while yet he seems to have spent the time with the utmost diligence, in study, in prayer, in instructing and counseling the Indians. On Monday^ he sunk into the deepest melancholy ; so that he supposed he never spent a day in such distress in his life; not in fears of hell, (which, he says, he had no pressing fear of) but a distressing sense of his own vileness, &c. On Tuesday, he expresses some relief. Wednesday^ he kept as a day of fasting and prayer, but in great distress. The three days next following^ his melancholy continued, but in a less degree, and with intervals of comfort. On the last of these days, he wrote the following letter to his brother John, then a student at Yale College, New-Haven.

Kaunaumeek, April 30,1743.

DEAR BROTHER,

I should tell you, " I long to see you," but my own experience has taught me, that there is no happiness, and plenary satisfaction to be enjoyed in earthly friends, though ever so near and dear, or in any other enjoyment, that is not God himself. Therefore, if the God of all grace be pleased graciously to afford us each his presence and grace, that we may perform the work, and endure the trials he calls us to, in a most distressing tiresome wilderness, till we arrive at our journey's end ; the local distance, at which we are held from each other.

at present is a matter of no great moment or importance to either of us. But alas! the presence of God is what I want. I live in the most lonely melancholy desert^ about eighteen miles from Albany; for it was not thought best that I should go to Delaware River, as I believe I hinted to you in a letter from New-York. I board with a poor Scotchman: his wife can talk scarce any English, My diet consists mostly of hasty-pudding, boiled corn, and bread baked in the ashes, and some« times a little meat and butter. My lodging is a little heap of straw, laid upon some boards, a little way from the sround ; for it is a log room, without any floor, that I lodge in. My work is exceedingly hard and difficult: I travel on foot a mile and a half, the worst of ways, almost daily, and back again; for I live so far from my Indians. I have not seen an English person this month. These, and many other circumstances, equally uncomfortable, attend me; and yet my spiritual con-fitds and distresses J so far exceed all these,'that I scarce think of them, or hardly observe that I am not entertained in the most sumptuous manner. The Lord grant that I may learn to '^ endure hardness, as a good soldier of Jesus Christ!'' As to my success here, I cannot say much as yet. The Indians seem generally kind, and well disposed towards me, are mostly very attentive to my instructions, and seem willing to be taught further. Two or three, I hope, are under some canvic-tians ; but there seems to be little of the special workings of the divine Spirit among them yet; which gives me many a heart-sinking hour. Sometimes I hope that God has abundant blessings in store for them and me; but at other times I am so overwhelmed with distress, that I cannot see how his dealings with me are consistent with covenant love and faith-fiilness: and I say, ^^ Surely his tender mercies are clean gone for ever.'^ But however, I see that I needed all this chastisement already: " It is good for me," that I have endured these trials, and have hitherto little or no apparent success. Do not be discouraged by my distresses. I was under great distress, at Mr. JPomroy's, when I saw you last; but" God has been with me of a truth," since that: he helped me sometimes sweetly at Long-Island, and elsewhere. But let us always remember, that we must through much tribulation^ enter into God^s eternal kingdom of rest and peace. The righteous are scarcely saved : it is an infinite wonder that we have well grounded hopes of being saved at all. For my part, I feel the most vile of any creature Uving; and I am sure sometimes, there is not such another existing on this side hell. Now all you can do for me, is, to pray incessantly, that God would make me humble, holy, resigned, and heavenly minded, by all my trials, ^^ Be«strong in we Lord, and in the power of his might" Let us rti??, wrestle^ anA fight^ that we may win theprt^e, and obtain that

complete happiness, to be ^^ holy, as God is holy.^^ So wishing and praying tnat you may advance in learning and g^&ce, am. be fit for special service for God, I remain your affectionate brother,

DAVID BRAINERD.

hordes day^ May 1. ^^ Was at Stockbrid^ to-day. In the forenoon, had some relief and assistance; though not sonaiich as usual. In the afternoon, felt poorly in body and soul; whUe I was preaching, seemed to be rehearsing idle talat, without the least hfe, fervour, sense, or comfort; and especially afterwards at the sacrament, my soul was filled with confiision, and the utmost anguish that ever I endured, under the ieeXmf of my inexpressible vileness and meanness. It was a most bitter and distressing season to me, by reason of the view I had of my own heart, and the secret abominations that lurk there: I thought that the eyes of all in the house were upon me, and I dared not look any one in the face; for it verily seemed as if they saw the vileness of my heart, and all the sins I had ever been guilty of. And if I had been banished firom the ju'eaence of all mankind, never to be seen any more, or so much as thought of, still I should have been distressed with shame; and I should have been ashamed to see the most barbarous prople on earth, because I was viler, and seemingly more brutistily ignorant than they. ^^I am made to possess the sins of my vouth."

V

The remaining days of this week were spent, for the most part, in inward distress and gloominess. The next Sabbaihy he had encouragement, assistance, and comfort; but on 3foft-day sunk again.

May 10. " Was in the same state, as to my mind, that I have been in for some time; extremely oppressed with a sense of guilt, pollution, and blindness : ^^ The iniquity of my heels hath compassed me about: the sins of my youth have l>een set in order before me ; they have gone over my head, as a heavy burden, too heavy for me to bear." Almost all the acti<Hi8 of my life past, seem to be covered over with sin and guilt; and those of them that I performed in the most conscientious man-ner, now fill me with shame and confusion, that I cannot hold up my face. O, the pride^ selfishness^ hypocrisy^ ignorance^ bitterness^ party zeal and the want of love^ candour^ meekness, and gentleness^ that have attended my attempts topromote religion and virtue ; and this when I have reason to hope I had real assistance fi'om above, and some sweet intercourse from heaven! But alas, what corrupt mixtures attended my best duties !"

The next seven dayz^ his gloom and distress continued for the most part, but he had some turns of relief and spiritual comfort He gives an account of his spending part of tlus time in hard labour, to build himself a little cottage to live in amon^t die Indians, in which he might be by himself; having, It seems, hitherto lived with a poor Scotchman, as he observes in the letter just now given; and afterwards, before his own house was habitable, he liv^d in a wigwam among the Indians.^'

M^oy 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.^ Most of the talk I hear, is either Hi^land Scotch, or Indian. I have no feliow-christian to whom I may unbosom myself, or lay open my spiritual sorrows; with whom I may take sweet counsel in conversation about heavenly things, and join in social prayer. I live poorly vvith regard to the comforts of life: most of my diet consists of boiled com, hasty-pudding, &c. I lodge on a bundle of straw, my labour is hard and extremely difficult, and I have little appearance of success, to comfort me. The Indians have no land to live on, but what the Dutch people lay claim to; and these threaten to drive them off. They have no regard to the souls ci the poor Indians ; and by what I can learn, they hate me because I come to preach to them. But that which makes all my difficulties grievous to be borne, is, that God hides his face from fne.

May 19. ^^ Spent most of this day in close study: but was sometimes so distressed that I could think of notnins but my spiritual blindness, ignorance, pride, and misery. OI have reason to make that prayer, " Lord, forgive my sins of youth, and former trespasses.'^

May 30. " Was much perplexed some part of the day: but towards night, h^d some comfortable meditations on Is. xl. 1. Comfort ye. Comfort ye, ^c. and dnjoyed some sweetness in prayer. Afterwards, my soul rose so far above the deep waters, that I dared to rejoice in God. I saw that there was sufficient matter of consolation in the blessed God.'^

The next nine days, his burdens were for the most part alleviated, but with variety; at some times, having considerable

This person was Braiverd's interpreter, an ingenious young Indian, bfr> loDftiiig to Stockbridge, whose name was John Wautoaumpequunnauni. He had bMD instnicted in the Christian religion, by Mr. Sergeant; bad lived with the RflT. Mr. Williams, of Long-Meadow ; bad been farther instructed bybim at the eliai|;8 of Mr. HoUis of London ; and understood both English and In-di»iTery well, and wrote a good hand.

Vot. X. 13

consolation; and at others, being more depressed. The qext day, Monday^ May 30, he set out on a journey to New Jersey, to consult the commissioners who employed him about the n-fairs of his mission.* He performed his journey thither mfour days,; and arrived at Mr. Burr's in Newark on Thursday* In great part of his journey, he was in the depths of melsmcholy, under distresses hke those ahready mentioned. On Fridoij/^ he rode to Elizabeth town: and on Saturday to New York; and from thence on his way homewards as rar as White Plains. There he spent the Sabbath^ and had considerable degrees of divine consolation and assistance in public services. On ilfoit-day, he rode about sixty miles to New Haven. There he bJ^ tempted a reconciliation with the Faculty of the college ; aiul spent this week in visiting his friends in those parts, and in Bis

g' »urney homewards, till Saturdayj in a pretty comfortable ame of mind. On Saturday, in his way from Stockbridge to Kaunaumeek, he was lost in the woods, and lay all night.in the open air; but happily found his way in the morning, and ca^le to bis Indians on Lord^s day, June 12, and had greater assistance in. preaching among tnem than ever before, since his first coming among them.

iProm this time forward he was the subject of various Q*ames and exercises of mind: in the general, much after the same ms^iner as hitherto, from his first coming to Kaunaumeek tiU he got into his own house, (a Uttle hut, which he made chie% with his own hands, by long and hard labour,) which was near seven weeks from this time. The great part of this time, he was dejected, and depressed with melancholy; sometimes extremely ; his melancholy operating in like manner, as related in times past. How it was with him in those dark seasons, he himself further describes in his diary for July 2, in the following manner. " My soul is, and has for a long time beea in a piteous condition, wading through a series of sorrows, of va* rious kinds. I have been so crushed down sometimes with a sense of my meanness and infinite unworthiness, that I have been ashamed that any, even the meanest of my fellow-creatures, should so much as spend a thought about me; and have wished sometimes, while travelling among the thick brakes, to drop, as one of them, into everlasting oblivion. In this ease, sometimes I have almost resolved never again to see any of my acquaintance : and really thought, I could not do it and hold up my face ; and have longed for the remotest region, for a retreat from all my friends, that I might not be seen or heard of any more. Sometimes the consideration of my ignorance has been a means of my great distress and anxiety. And es-

* His business with the commissioners now was, to obtain orders for them to set np^ school among the Indians at Kaunaumeek, and that his interpreter might be appointed the schoolmaster, which was accordingly done.

pecialiy my soul has been in anguish with fear, shame, and

§iiilt, that ever I had preached, or had any thought that way.— ometimes my soul has been in distress on feeling some particular corruptions rise and swell like a mighty torrent, with present violence ! having, at the same time, ten thousand former sins and follies presented to view, in all their blackness and ag^vations.—And these, while 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 1 may unburden my soul before God, which has greatly contributed to my distress.—-Of late, more especially, my great difficulty has been a sort of carelessness, a kind of regardless temper of mind, whence I have been disposed to indolence and trifling: and tfiis temper of mind has constantly been attended with guilt and shame ; so that sometimes I have been in a kind of horror, to find myself so unlike the blessed God. I have thought I grew worse under all my trials ; and nothing has cut and wounded my soul more than this. O, if I am one of God^s chosen, as I trust through infinite grace I am, I find of a truth, that the righteous are scarcely saved.'*'*

It is apparent, that one main occasion of that distressing

floominess of mind which he was so much exercised with at [aunaumeek, was reflection on his past errors and misguided zeal at coUege^ in the beginning of the late religious commo-tioiifl. And therefore he repeated his endeavours this year for reconciliation with the governors of the college, whom he had at that time offended. Although he had been at New Haven, in June, this year, and attempted a reconciliation, as mentioned already; yet, in the beginning of July, he made another journey thither, and renewed his attempt, but still in vain.

Although he was much dejected, most of the time of which I am now speaking; yet he had mamr intermissions of his melandioly, and some seasons of comfort, sweet tranquillity and resignation of mind, and fi'equent special assistance in public services, as appear in his diary. The manner of his relief from his sorrow, once in particular, is worthy to be men-tiened in his own words. ^^ July 25. Had little or no resohi-ti<m for a life of holiness; was ready almost to renounce mv hopes of living to God. And O how dark it looked, to think ef eong unholy for ever! This I could not endure. The cry of tsy soul was, Psal. Ixv. 3. Iniquities prevail against me. But 1 was in some measure relieved by a comfortable meditation on God's eternity, that he never had a beginning. Whence I was led to admire his greatness and power, in such a manner, that I stood still, and praised the Lord for his own glories and perfections: though I was (and if I should for ever be) an

unholy creature, my soul was comforted to apprehend an. eternal, infinite, powerful, holy God.''

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

Lord's day^ July 31. " Felt more comfortably than some ' days past—Blessed be the Lord, who has now ^ven me a

Elace of retirement.—Oh that I may find God in it, and that e would dwell with me for ever!

Aug. 1. "Was still busy in further labours on my house-Felt a little of the sweetness of religicm, and thought that it was worth while to fellow after God through a thousand snares, deserts, and death itself. Oh that I might always/bZ-low after holiness^ that I may be fully conformed to God! Had some degree of sweetness in secret prayer, though I had much sorrow.

Aug. 2. " Was still labouring to make myself more com* fortable, with regard to my house and lodging. Laboured under spiritual anxiety: It seemed to me that I Served to be thrust out of the world ; yet found some comfort in committing my cause to God. It is good for me to be afflicted^ that I may die wholly to this world, and all that is in it.

Aug. 3. " Spent most of the day in writing. Enjoyed some sense of religion. Through divine goodness I am now uninterruptedly alone ; and find my retirement comfortable. I have enjoyed more sense of divine things within a few days last past, than for some time before. I longed after holiness,, hd-mility, and meekness: Oh that God would enable me to " pass the time of my sojourning here in his fear," and always live to him !

Aug. 4. " Was enabled to pray much, through the whole day ; and through divine goodness found some intenseness of soul in the duty, as I used to do, and some ability to persevere in my supplications. I had some apprehensions of divine things, which afforded me courage and resolution. It is good^ I find, to persevere in attempts to pray, if I cannot pray with perseverance^ i. e. continue long in my addresses to the divine Being. I have generally found, that the more I do in secret prayer, the more I have delighted to do^ and have enjoyed more of a spirit of prayer : and frequently have found the contrary, when with journeying or otherwise I have been much deprived of retirement. A seasonable, steady performance of secret

DUTIES IN THEIR PROPER HOURS, Rud a CAREFUL IMPROVEMENT

OP ALL TIME, filling up cvcry hour with some profitable labour, either of heart, head, or hands, are excellent means of spiritual peace and boldness before God.— Christy indeed, is ourpeace^ and by him we have boldness of access to God ; but a good con*

Science^ void of offence^ is an excellent preparation for an approach into the divine presence. There is a difference between self-confidence or a self-righteous pleasing of ourselves —as with our own duties, attainments, and spiritual enjoyments—of which good men are sometimes guilty, and that holy confidence arising from the testimony of a good conscience, which good UezeSah had, when he says, " Remember, O Lord, 1 beseech thee, how I have walked before thee in truth, and with a perfect hesurt/^ Then^ says the holy psalmist, shall I not be asham' ed when I have respect to all thy commandments. Filling up our time with and for God, is the way to rise up and lie down in peace."

The next eight days^ he continued for the most part in a very comfortable frame, having his mind fixed and sweetly engaged in religion; and more than once blesses God, that he had given him a little cottage^ where he might live alone, and enjoy a happy retirement, free from noise and disturbance, and could at any hour of the day lay aside all studies, and spend time in lifting up his soul to God for spiritual blessings.

Aug. 13. " Was enabled in secret prayer to raise my soul to God, with desire and delight It was indeed a blessed season. I found the comfort of being a christian; and 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 kmdly to disappear, and I " remembered no more the sorrow, for joy.''-T-0, how kindly, and with what a filial tenderness, the soul confides in the Rock of Ages^ at such a season, that he will " never leave it, nor forsake it,"'' that he will cause " all things to work together for its good !'* 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 in^ veterate of my enemies. I earnestly desired that they should share in the same mercy ; and loved that God should do just as he pleased with me and every thing else. I felt peculiarly serious, calm, and peaceful, and encouraged to press after ho* lihess as long as I live, whatever difficulties and trials may be in my way. May the Lord always help me so to do ! Amen, and Amen.

Lord^s day^ Aug. 14. " I had much more freedom in public, than in private. God enabled me to speak with some feeling sense of divine things; but perceived no considerable effect.

Aug. 15. " Spent most of the day in labour, to procure something to keep my horse on in the winter. Enjoyed not omch sweetness in the morning; was very weak in body through the day ; and thought that this frail body would soon drop into the dust; and had some very realizing apprehensions

lOsi MEMOIRS or BRAINSKD.

of a speedy entrance into another world. In this weak state of body, I was not a little distressed for want of suitable food. I had no bread, nor could I get any. I am forced to go or send ten or fifteen miles for all the bread I eat; and sometimes it ifl 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 cannot find my horse in the woods to go myself; and this was my case now; but through divine goodness I had some Indian meoZ, of which I made little cakes, and fried them. Yet I felt contented with my circumstances, and sweetly resigned to God. In prayer I enjoyed great freedom; and blessed God as much for my |Mrc-sent circumstances, as if I had been a king ; and thought that I found a disposition to be contented in any circumstances. Blessed he God.^"*

The rest of this week^ he was exceedingly weak in bcMly, and much exercised with pain; yet obliged from day to day to la* hour hard, to procure fodder for his horse. Except some part of the time, he was so very ill, that he was neither able to woriL nor study; but speaks of longings after holiness and perfect confwmity to God. He complains of enjoying but little of God: yet he says, that little was better to him, than all the world besides. In his diary for Saturday^ he says, be was somewhat melancholy and sorrowful in mind ; and adds, ^ I never feel comfortably, but when 1 find my soul going f<Mrth after God. If 1 cannot be holy I must necessarily be raisera^* ble for ever.''

■ Lord^s day^ Aug. 21. " Was much straitened in the forenoon exercise; my thoughts seemed to be all scattered to the ends of the earth. At noon, I fell down before the Lord, groaned under my vileness, barrenness, and deadness; and felt as if I was guilty of soul-murder, in speaking to immortal souls in such a manner as I had then done. In the afternoon, God was pleased to give me some assistance, and I was enabled to set before my hearers the nature and necessity of true repentance. Afterwards, had some small degree of thankfulness. Was very ill and full of pain in the evening; and my soul mourned that I had spent so much time to so little profit.

Aug. 22. ^^ Spent most of the day in study ; and found my bodily strength in a measure restored. Had some intense and passionate breathings of soul after holiness, and very clear manifestations of my utter inability to procure, or work it in myself; it is wholly owing to the power of God. O, with what tenderness the love and desire of holiness fills the soul! I wanted to wing out of myself to God, or rather to get a con-

fonnity to him : but, alas! I cannot add to my stature in grace one cubit However, my soul can never leave striving for it; or at least groaning, that it cannot strive for it, and bbtam more purity of heart.—At night, I spent some time in instructing my poor people. Oh that God would pity their souls!

Aug. 23. " Studied in the forenoon, and enjoyed some freedom. In the afternoon, laboured abroad: endeavoured to way: but found not much sweetness or intenseness of mind. Towards night, was very weary, and tu-ed of this world of sorrow : the thoughts of death and inunortality appeared very desirable, and even refreshed my soul. Those lines turned in my mind with pleasure,

^^ Come death, shake hands; I'U kiss thy bands; ^^ *Tis happiness for me to die.— •* What!—dost thou think, that I wiU shrink? " ril go to immortality.'?

*■* In evening prayer, God was pleased to draw near my soul, though very sinful and unworthy; so that I was enabled to wrestle with God, and to persevere in my requests for grace. I poured out my soul for all the world, friends and enemies. My soul was concerned, not so much for souls as such, but rather for Christ^s kingdom, that it might appear in the world, that Grod might be known to be God, in the whole earth. And O my soul abhorred the very thought of a party in religion! Let the truth of God appear, wherever it is; and God have the

flory for ever. Amen. This was indeed a comfortable season, thought I had some small taste of, and real relish for the enjoyments and employments of the upper world. Oh that my scoil was more attempered to it!

Aug. 24. ^^ Spent some time, in the morning, in study and prayer. Afterwards, was engaged in some necessary business abroad. Towards night, found a little time for some particular studies. I thought, tf God should say, ^^ Cease making any provision for this life, for you shall in a few days go out of time mto eternity," my soul would leap for joy. Oh that I may both " desire to.be dissolved, to be with Christ," and likewise " wait patiently all the days of my appointed time till my change come !" But, alas! I am very unfit for the business and blessedness of heaven. Oh for more holiness f

Aug. 25. " Part of the day, was engaged in studies; and part in labour abroad. I find it is impossible to enjoy peace and tranquillity of mind, without a careful improvement of tioie. This is really an imitation of God and Christ Jesus: ** My Fati^er worketh hitherto, and I work," says our Lord. But Btill, 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

frogress in grace, and preparation for the world of blessedness; see and know that I am a very barren tree in God's vineyard, and that he might justly say, " Cut it down," &c. Oh that God would make me more lively and vigorous in grace, for his own glory! Amen."

The two next days^ he was much engaged in the necessaiy labours, in which he extremely spent himself. He seems these days to have had a great sense of the vanity of the world; continued longings after holiness, and more fervency of spirit in the service of God.

hordes day, Aug, 28. " Was much perplexed with some irre-liffious Dutchmen. All their discourse turned upon the things of the world; which was no small exercise to my mind. O 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 t>."

The next day he set out on a journey to New York. Was somewhat dejected the two first days of his joumev; but yet seems to have enjoyed some degrees of the sensible presence of God.

Aug. 31. ^^ Rode down to Bethlehem ; was in a sweet, se* rious, and, I hope, christian frame, when I came there. Eternal things engrossed all my thoughts ; and I longed to be in the world of spirits. O how happy is it, to have all our thoughts swallowed up in that world: to feel one's self a serious, considerate stranger in this world, diligently seeking a road through it, the best, the sure road to the heavenly Jerusalem!

Sept. 1. " Rode to Danbury. Was more dull and dejected in spirit, than yesterday. Indeed, I always feel comfortably, when God realizes death, and the things of another world, to my mind. Whenever my mind is taken off from the things of this world, and set on God, my soul is then at re«f."

He went forward on his journey, and came to New York on the next Monday. And, after tarrying there two or three days^ he set out from that city towards New Haven, intending to be there at the commencement; and, on Friday^ came to Horse-neck. In the mean time, he complains much of dulness, and want of fervour in religion ; but yet, from time to time, speaks of his enjoying spiritual warmth and sweetness in conversation with Christian friends, and assistance in public service?.

MEMOIRS OF BRAIXERD. ' 105

S^t 10. " Rode six miles to Stanwich, and preached to a considerable assembly of people. Had some assistance and freedom, especially towards the close. Endeavoured much afterwards, in private conversation, to establish holiness, humility, meekness, &c. as the essence of true religion; and to moderate some noisy sort of persons, who appearecfto me to be actuated by unseen spiritual pride. Alas, into what extremes men incline to run!—Returned to Horseneck; and felt some seriousness and sweet solemnity in the evening.

Lord*8 datK Sept. 11. " In the afternoon, I preached from Tit. iii. 8. This is a faithful sayings and these things^ ^c. 1 think God never helped me more in painting true religion, and in detecting clearly, and tenderly discountenancing false appearances of religion, wild-fire, party-zeal, spiritual pride, &c. as well as a confident dogmatical spirit, and its spring, viz. igno-ranee of the heart. In the evening, took much pains in private conversation to suppress some confusions, which I perceived were among that people.

Sept, 12. " Rode to Mr. Mills' at Ripton. Had some perplexing hours; but was some part of the day very comfortable. It is ** through great trials," I see, " that we must ^nter the gates of paradise.^' If my soul could but be holy, that God might not be dishonoured, methinks I could bear sorrows.

SepU 13. " Rode to New Haven. Was sometimes dejected; not in the sweetest frame. Lodged at ****. Had some profitable christian conversation. I find, though my inward trials were great, and a life of solitude gives them greater advantage to settle, and penetrate to the very inmost recesses of the soul; yet it is better to be alone, than incumbered with noise and tumult. I find it very diflScult maintaining any sense of divine things, while removing from place to place, diverted with new objects, and filled with care and business. A settled, steady busmess, is best adapted to a life of strict religion.

Sqot. 14. « This day I ought to have taken my degree ;* but God sees fit to deny it me. And though I was greatly afiraid of being overwhelmed with perplexity and confusion, when I should see my class-mates take theirs ; yet, at the very time, God enabled me with calmness and resignation to say, " the will of the Lord be done." Indeed, through divine goodness, I have scarcely felt my mind so cahn, sedate, and coni-fcHTtable, for. some time. I have long feared this season, and expected my humility, meekness, patience, and resignation, would be much tried ;t but found much more pleasure and di-

* This being commencement'duj,

t His trial was the greater, ia that, had it not been for the displeasure of Oic gorernors of the college, he would not only on that day have shared wiUi his claas-mates in the public honours which they then received, but would, on Wat

vine comfort, than 1 expected. Felt spiritually serious, tender and affectionate in private prayer with a dear christian firiend

ta<lay.

Sept. 15. " Had some satisfaction in hearing the ministers discourse. It is always a comfort to me, to hear religious and spiritual conversation. Oh that ministers and people were more spiritual and devoted to God!—Towards night, with the advice of christian friends, I offered the following reflections in writing, to the rector and trustees of the college—which are, for substance, the same that I had freely offercHi to the rector before, and intreated him to accept—that, if possible, I might cut off all occasion of offence, from those who seek occasion. What I offered, is as follows:

^^ Whereas I have said before several persons, concerning Mr. Whittelsey, one of the tutors of Yale College, that I did not believe he had any more grace than the chair I then leaned upon; I humbly confess, that herein I have sinned against God, and acted contrary to the rules of his word, and have injured Mr. Whittelsey. I had no right to make thus free with his character ; and had no just reason to say as I did concerning him. jMy fault herein was the more aggravated, in that I said this concerning one who was so much my superior, and one whom I was obliged to treat with special respect and honour, by reason of the relation I stood in to him in the college. Such a manner of behaviour, I confess, did not become a christian; it was taking too much upon me, and did not savour of that humble respect, which I ought to have expressed towards Mr. Whittelsey. I have long since been convinced of the falseness of those apprehensions, by which I then justified such a conduct. I have often reflected on this act with grief; I hope on account of the sin of it: and am willing to lie low, and be abased before God and man for it. I humbly ?i3k the forgiveness of the fovernors of the college, and of the whole society; but of Bfr. l^hittelsey in particular. And whereas I have been accused by one person of saying concerning the reverend rector of Yale College, that I wondered he did not expect to drop down dead for fining the scholars that followed Mr. Tennent to Milford; I seriously profess, that I do not remember my saying any thing to this purpose. But if I did, which I am not certain I did not, f utterly condemn it, and detest all such kind of behaviour; and especially in an under-graduate towards the rector. And I now appear to judge and condemn myself for going once to the separate meeting in New Haven, a little before I was expelled, though the rector had refused to give me leave. For this, I humbly ask the rector's forgiveness. And whether the

occasion, have appeared at the head of that class; which, if he had been with them, would have been the most numerous of any that ever had been graduated-at thatcoUeg:e.

fQvernors of the college shall ever see cause to remove the aca-emical censure I lie under, or no, or to admit me to the privileges I desire, yet I am willing to appear, if they think fit, openly to own," and to humble myself for those things I have herein confessed."

*^ God has made me willing to do anything that I can do, consistent with truth, for the sake of peace, and that I might not be a stumbling block to others. For this reason I can cheerfully forego, and give up what 1 verily believe, after the most mature and impartial search is my right, in some instances. God has given me the disposition, that, if a man has done me an hundred injuries, and I (though ever so much provoked to it) have done him only one, I feel disposed, and heartily willing humbly to confess my fault to him, and on my knees to ask forgivenesiS 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 \yeing partly overheard, was related to the rector, and by him extorted fi-om my friends; yet, seeing it was divulged and made public, I was willing to confess my fault therein publicly. But I trust God will plead my cause."

I was witness to the very christian spirit which Brainerd ahowed at that time ; being then at New Haven, and one whom he thought fit to consult on that occasion. This was my first opportunity of a personal acquaintance with him. There truly appeared in him a great degree of calmness and humility; without the least appearance of rising of spirit for any ill treatment which he supposed he had suffered or the least backwardness to abase himself before them, who as he thought, had wronged him. What he did was without any objection or appearance of reluctance, even in private to his friends, to whom he fireely opened himself. Earnest application was made on his behalf to the authority of the college, that he might have his degree then given him ; and particularly by the Rev. Mr. Burr of Newark, one of the correspondents of the honourable society m Scotland ; he being sent from New Jersey to New Haven, by the rest of the commissioners, for that end ; and many arguments were used, but without success. Indeed, the governors of the college were so far satisfied with the reflections which Brainerd had made on himself, that they a{)peared willing to admit him again into college; but not to give him his degree, till he should have remained there at least twelvemonths, which being contrary to what the correspondents, to whom he was now engaged, had declared to be their mind.

t

108 HJtMOliib OF BKAIi\£ai>.

he did not consent to it. He desired his degree, as he thought it would tend to his being more extensively useful; but still when he was denied it, he manifested no disappointnient or

resentment. The next day lie went to Derby ; then to South- .-

bury, where he spent the Sabbath: and speaks of some spiritual -^^ comfort; but complains much of unfixedness, and wanderings oTlsK^Tf mind in religion.

SepL 19. " In the afternoon, rode to Bethlehem, and preached. Had some measure of assistance, both in prayer acnciE=J preaching. I felt serious, kind and tender towards all mankind^ % and longed that holiness might flourish more on earth.

SepU 20. " Had thoughts of going forward on my journey i my Indians; but towards night was taken with a hard pain in m^ teeth, and shivering cold ; and could not possibly recover a coni< fortable desree of warmth the whole night following. I conti nued very mil of pain all night; and in the morning had a v hard fever, and pains almost over my whole body, ihad a of the divine goodness in appointing this to be the place of m; sickness, among my friends, who were very kind to me. I shouli

I)robably have perished, if I had first got home to my ow: louse in the wilderness, where I have none to converse wit but the poor, rude, ignorant Indians. Here, I saw, was merc^^ in the midst of affliction. I continued thus, mostly confined tc:^ my bed, till Friday night; very full of pain most of the time ^ but through divine goodness, not afraid of death. Then, the extreme folly of those appeared to me, who put off their turning: to God till a sick bed. Surely this is not a time proper to prepare for eternity. On Friday evening my pains went ofi*somewhat suddenly. I was exceedingly weak, and almost fainted; but was very comfortable the night following. These words, Psal. cxviii. 17. " I shall not die, but live," &c. I frequently revolved in niy mind; and thought we were to prize the continuation of life, only on this account, that we may " show forth God's goodness and works of grace,"

From this time he gradually recovered ; and the next Tuesday was so well as to be able to go forward on his journey homewards ; but it was not till the Tuesday following, that he reached Kaunaumeek. He seems great part of this time, to have had a very deep and lively sense of the vanity and emptiness of all things here below, and of the reality, nearness, and vast importance of eternal things.

Oct. 4. " This day rode home to my own house and people^ The poor Indians appeared very glad of my return. Found my house and all things in safety. I presently fell on my knees, and blessed God for my safe return, after a long and tedious

Journey, and a season of sickness in several places where I had been, and after I had been ill myself. God has renewed his kindness to me, in preserving me one journey more. I have taken many considerable journeys since this time last year, and yet God has never suffered one of my bones to be broken, or any distressing calamity to befal me, excepting the ill turn I had in my last journey. I have been often exposed to cold and hunger in the wilderness, where the comforts of Hfe were not to be had ; have frequently been lost in the woods ; and sometimes obliged to ride much of the night; and once lay out in the woods all night; yet, blessed be God, he has preserved me!"

In his diary for the next eleven days^ are great complaints of distance from God, spiritual pride, corruption, and exceeding vileness. He once says, his heart was so oppressed with a sense of his pollution, that he could scarcely have the face and impudence (as it then appeared to him) to desire that God should not damn him forever. And at another time, he says, he had so little sense of God, or apprehension and relish of his glory and excellency, that it made him more disposed to kindness and tenderness towards those who are blind and ignorant of God and things divine and heavenly.

hordes day^ Oct. 16. " In the evening, God was pleased to

Sive me a feeling sense of my own unworthiness ; but through ivine goodness such as tended to draw me to, rather than drive me from, God. It filled me with solemnity.. I retired alone, (having at this time a friend with me) and poured out my soul to God with much freedom; and yet in anguish, to find myself so unspeakably sinful and unworthy before a holy God. Was now much resigned under God's dispensations towards me, though my trials had been very great. But thought whether I could be resigned, if God should let the f rench Indians come upon me and deprive me of life, or carry JTne away captive, (though I knew of no special reason then to J>ropose this trial to myself, more than any other;) and my soul deemed so far to rest and acquiesce in God, that the sting and "terror of these things, seemed in a great measure gone. Pre-^tently after I came to the Indians, whom I was teaching to asing that evening, I received the following letter from Stock-bridge, by a messenger sent on the Sabbath on purpose, which :^3iade it appear of greater importance.

' Sir —Just now we received advices from Col. Stoddard, ^hat there is the utmost danger of a rupture with France. He lias 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 Kaunaumeekf that you may take the most prudent measures for your safety, I am, Sir, &c/'

^' I thought, upon reading the contents, it came in a good sea-son; for my heart seemed fixed on God, and therefore I was not much surprised. This news only made me more serious, and taught me that 1 must not please myself with any of the comforts of life which I had been preparing. Blessed be God, who gave me any intenseness and fervency this eveninff!

OcU 17. " Had some rising hopes, that ' God would arise and have mercy on Zion speedily.' My heart is indeed refreshed, when I have any prevailing hopes of Zion's prosperity. Oh that I may see the glorious day, when Zion shall becomct the joy of the whole earth! Truly there is nothing that I greatly value in this lower world."

On Tuesday^ he rode to Stockbridge; complains of being much diverted, and having but little life. On Wednesday^ he expresses some solemn sense of divine things, and a longii^ to be always doing for God with a friendly frame of spirit

Oct. 20. " Had but little sense of divine things this day. Alas, that so much of my precious time is spent with so little of God! Those are tedious days wherein I have no spirituality.

Oct. 21. Returned home to Kaunaumeek: was glad to get alone in my little cottage, and to cry to that God who seeth in secret, and is present in a wilderness.

Oct. 22. "Had but little sensible communion with God. This world is a dark, cloudy mansion. O when will the Sun of Righteousness shine on my soul without intermission!

Lord'*s day^ Oct. 23. " In the morning, I had a little dawn of comfort arising from hopes of seeing glorious days in the Church of God ; and was enabled to pray for such a glorious day, with some courage and strength of hope. In the forenoon, treated on the glories of heaven : In tne afternoon, on the miseries of hell, and the danger of going there. Had some freedom and warmth, both parts of the day; and my people were very attentive. In the evening, two or three came to me imder concern for their souls ;to whom I was enabled to discourse closely, and with some earnestness and desire. Oh that God would be merciful to their poor souls /'*

He seems through the whole of this week^ to have been greatly engaged to fill up every inch of time in the service of Goo, and to have been most diligently employed in study, prayer, and instructing the Indians; and from time to time, expresses

longings of soul after God, and the advancement of his kingdom, and spiritual comfort and refreshment.

Lord^s day^ Oct. 30. " In the morning, I enjoyed some fixedness of soul in prayer, which was indeed sweet and desirable; and was enabled to leave myself with God, and to ac(}ui-esce in him. At noon, my soul was refreshed with readmg Rev. iii. more especially the 11th and 12th verses. O my soul longed for that blessed day, when I should ^ dwell in the temple of God,^ and ^ go no more out^ of his immediate presence!

Oct. 31. ^' Rode to Kinderhook, about fifteen miles fi'om my residence. While riding, I felt some divine sweetness in the thoughts of being " a pillar in the temple of God'' in the upper World, and being no more deprived of his blessed presence, and the sense of hisfavour, which is better than life. My soul was so lifted up to God, that I could pour out my desires to him, for more grace and ftirther degrees of sanctification, with abun« dant fi'eedom. O I longed to be more abundantly prepared for that blessedness, with which I was then in some measure refreshed ! Returned home in the evening; but took an extremely bad cold by riding in the night.

Nov. 1. " Was very much disordered in body, and sometimes full of pain in my face and teeth ; was not able to study much, and had not much spiritual comfort. Alas! when God is withdrawn, all is gone. Had some sweet thoughts, which I could not but write down, on the design^ nature, and end of Chruftianity.

Nov. 2. " Was still more indisposed in body, and in much, pain, most of the day. I had not much comfort; was scarcely able to study at all; and still entirely alone in the wilderness. But blessed be the Lord, I am not exposed in the open air; I have a house, and many of the comforts of life, to support me. I have learned, in a measure, that all good things, relating both to time and eternity, come from God. In the evening, I had some degree of quickening in prayer: I think God gave me some sense of his presence.

Nov. 3. " Spent this day in secret fasting and prayer, from mornii^ till night. Early in the morning, I had some small decree oi assistance in prayer. Afterwards, read the story of £lijah the prophet, 1 Kings, xvii. xviii. and xix. chapters, and also 3 Kings, ii. and iv. chapters. Mv soul was much moved, observing me faith, zeal, and power of that holy man; how he wrestled with God in prayer, &c. My soul then cried with Elisha, « Where is the Lord God of Elijah!" O I longed for more faith! My soul breathed after God, and pleaded with him, that a *^ double portion of that spirit," which was given to Elijah, might" rest on me." And that which was divinely re-freahiog and strengthening to my soul, was. I saw that God is

the same that he was in the days of Elijah.—Was enabled to wrestle with God by prayer, in a more affectionate, fervent, humble, intense, and importunate manner, than I have for many months past. Nothing seemed too hard for God to perform; nothing too great for me to hope for from him. 1 had for many months entirely lost all hopes of being made instrumental of doing any special service for God in the world; it has appeared entirely impossible, that one so vile should be thus employed for God. But at this time God was pleased to revive this hope. Afterwards read from the iii. chapter of Exodus to the XX. and saw more of the glory and majesty of God discovered in those chapters, than ever 1 had seen before ; frequently in the mean time falling on my knees, and crying to God for the faith of Moses, and for a manifestation of the divine glory.-^ Especially the iii. and iv. and part of the xiv. and xv. chapters were unspeakably sweet to my soul: my soul blessed God, that he had shown himself so gracious to his servants of old. The XV. chapter seemed to be the very language which my soul uttered to God in the season of my first spiritual comfort, when I had just got through the Red Sea^ by away that Ihad no expectation of. O how my soul then rejoiced in God ! And now those things came fresh and lively to my mind; now my soul blessed God afresh that he had opened that unthought oi way to deliver me from the fear of the Egyptians, when I almost despaired of life.—Aflerwards read the story of Abraham^s pilgrimage in the land of Canaan. My soul was melted, in observing his faiths how he leaned on God ; how he comwuneA with God; and what a stranger he was here in the world. After that, read the story of Joseph's sufferings, and God's goodness to him : blessed God for these examples of faith and patience. My soul was ardent in prayer, was enabled to wrestle ardently for myself, for Christian friends, and for the church of God. And felt more desire to see the power of God in the conversion of souls, than I have done for a long season. Blessed be God for this season of fasting and prayer!—May his goodness always abide with me, and draw my soul to him !

Nov. 4. " Rode to Kinderhook : went quite to Hudson's river, about twenty miles from my house; performed some business ; and returned home in the evening to my own house. I had rather ride hard, and fatigue myself to get home, than to spend the evening and night amongst those who have no regard for God."

The two next days, he was very ill, and full of pain, jmto-bably through his riding in the night, after a fatiguing day's

tourney on Thursday ; but yet seems to have been diligent in msiness.

Nov. 7. This morning the Lord afforded me some special assistance in prayer; my mind was solemn, fixed, affectionate, and ardent in desires after holiness; felt full of tenderness and love \ and my affections seemed to be dissolved into kindness. In the evening, I enjoyed the same comfortable assistance in prayer, as in the morning: my soul longed after God, and cried to him with a filial freedom, reverence and boldness. Oh that I might be entirely consecrated and devoted to God!''

The two next days^ he complains of bodily illness and pain: but much more of spiritual barrenness and unprofitableness.

Nov. 10. '.' Spent this day in fasting and prayer alone. In the morning, was very dull and lifeless, melancholy and discouraged. But after some time, while reading 2 Kings, xix. my. soul was moved and affected; especially reading verse 14, and onward. I saw there was no other way for the afflicted children of God to take, but to go to God with all their sorrows. Hezekiah^ in his great distress, went and spread his complaint before the Lord. I was then enabled to see the mighty power of God, and my extreme need of that power; and to cry to him affectionately and ardently for his power and grace to be exercised towards me.—^Afterwards, read the story of David's trials, and observed the course he took under them, how he strengthened his hands in God; whereby my soul was carried out alter God, enabled to cry to him, and rely upon him, and felt strong in the Lord. Was afterwards refreshed, observing the blessed temper that was wrought in David by his trials: all bitterness, and desire of revenge, seemed wholly taken away ; so that he mourned for the death of his enemies ; 2 Sam. i. 17. and iv. 9. ad. Jin. —Was enabled to bless God, that he had given me something of this divine temper, that my soul freely forgioes^ and heartily lo^es my enemies.'^''

It appears by his diary for the remaining part of this week^ and for the two following weeks, that great part of the time he was very ill, and full of pain; and yet obliged through his cii*-' cumstances, in this ill state of body, to be at great fatigues in labour, and travelling day and night, and to expose himself in stormy and severe seasons. He, from time to time, within this space, speaks of thirstings of soul after God; of his heart being strengthened in God; of seasons of divine sweetness and comfort; of his heart being affected with gratitude for mercies, &c Yet there are many complaints of lifelessness, weakness of srace, distance from God, and great unprofitableness. But stUTthere appears a constant care from day to day, not to lose time, but to improve it all for God.

Vor. X. In

Lord's day^ Nov. 37. " In the evening, I was greatly alfect* cd in reading an account of the very joyfiil death of a pious gentleman; which seemed to invigorate my soul in God^s ways. I felt courageously engaged to pursue a life of holiness and self-denial as long as I live ; and poured out my soul to Crod for his help and assistance in order thereto. Eternity then-seemed nesur, and my soul rejoiced and longed to meet it. I trust that will be a blessed day which finishes my toil here.

Nov. 28. " In the evening, I was obliged to spend time-in company and conversation which were unprofitable. Nothing lies heavier upon me than the misimprovement of time.

Nov. 29. Began to studv the Indian tongue, with Mr. Sergeant, at Stockbridge.* Was perplexed for want of more retirement. I love to live alone in my own little cottage, where I can spend much time in prayer, &c.

Nov. 30. ^^ Pursued my study of Indian: but was very weak and dis(»'dered in body, and was troubled in mind at the barrenness of the day, that I had done so little for God. I had some enlargement in prayer at night. O a bam, or stable, hedge, or any other place, is truly desirable, if God is there! Sometimes^ of late, my hopes of Zion's prosperity, are more raised, than they were in the summer. My soul seems to confide in God, that he will yet ^^ shew forth his salvation^^ to his pe<q>Ie, and make Zion ^' the joy of the whole earth. O how excellent is the loving-kindness of the Lord. My soul sometimes inwartiy exults at the lively thoughts of what God has already done for his church, and what ^^ mine eyes have seen of the salvation of God.^^ It is sweet, to hear nothing but spiritual discourse firom God^s children; and sinners " enquiring the way to Zion," saying, " What shall we do ?" &c. Oh that I may see more of this blessed work!

Dec. I. "Both morning ajad evening, I enjoyed some in-tenseness of soul in prayer, and longed for the enlargement of Christ's kinffdom in the world. My soul seems of late, to went on God for his blessing on Zion. Oh that religion might powerfully revive!

Dec. 2. " Enjoyed not so much health of body, or fervour of mind, as yesterday. If the chariot-wheels move with ease and speed at any time, for a short space, yet, by and by, they drive heavily again. " Oh that I had the wings ot a dove, that I might fly away" from sin and corruption, and be at rest with God! Dec. 3. " Rode home to my house and people. Sufl^fed

^ The commissioners who employed him, had directed him to spend mxuSx time this winter with Mr. Serg^eant, to learn the language of the Indians \ wtuoh necessitated him very often to ride, backwards and forwards, twenty ailMy throngh the uninhabited woods between Stockbridge andKaunaumeek; whieb many times exposed him to extreme hardship, in the severe seasons of the winter.

.)

much with extreme cold.—I trust, I shall ere long, arrive safe at my joumey^s end, where my toils shall cease.

Lord's day^ Dec. 4. '^ Had but little sense of divine and heavenly things. My soul mourns over my barrenness. O how sad is spiritual deadness!

D^. 5. Rode to Stockbridge. Was almost outdone with the eztr^ne cold. Had some refreshing meditations by the way; but was barren, wandering, and lifeless, much of the day. Thus my days roll away, with but little done for God; and this is my burden.

Dec. 6. " Was perplexed to see the vanity and levity of professed Christians. Spent the evening with a Clu-istian friend, who was able, in some measure, to sympathize with me in my spiritual conflicts. Was a little refreshed to find one with whom I coijdd converse of inward trials^ cj-c.

Dec. 7. ^^ Spent the evening in perplexity, with a kind of guilty indolence. When I have no heart or resolution for God, and the duties incumbent on me, I feel guilty of negligence and misimprovement of time. Certainly I ought to be engaged in ixkj w<Mrk and business, to the utmost extent of my strength and aimity^

Dec. 8. " My mind was much distracted with different ai-fectiom; I seemed to be at an amazing distance from God; and lodung found in the world, to see if there was not some, happiness to be derived from it. God, and certain objects in the wotld, seemed eadi to invite my heart and affections; and my 8ool iseemed to be distracted between them. I have not been so mudh beset with the world for a lon^ time; and that with re-latk>n to some particular objects, to which I thought myself most dead. But even while I was desiring to please myself with any thing below, guilt, sorrow, and perplexity, attended the first motions of desire. Indeed, I cannot see the appearance of plea-mre and happiness in the world, as I used to do: and blessed be Crod for any habitual deadness to the world.—I found no peace, or deliverance, from this distraction and perplexity of miiid, till I found access to the throne of ^race; and, as soon as I had any sense of God, and things divine, the allurements of Uie world vanished, and my heart was determined for God. £bt my soul mourned over my folly, that I should desire any j^ieasure, but only in God. God forgive my spiritucd idolairy /"

The next thirteen days^ he appears to have been continually Ui 4leep concern about the improvement of precious time; and t^ere are many expressions of grief, that he improved time no ^tter; such as " O what misery do I feel, when my thoughts ^^ve after vanity! I should be happy if always engaged for fdod! O wretched man that I am!" &c Speaks of hi» being trained with a sense of his barrenness, perplexed with his wan-

derings, longing for deliverance from sin, mourning that time passed away, and so little was done for God, &c.—On TueBdau^ December ^, he speaks of his being visited at Kaunaomeek, by some under-spintual concern.

Dec. 22. '' Spent this day al<me in fasting and prayer, and reading in God^s word the exercises and deliverances of his chil* dren. Had, I trust, some exercise of faith, and realizing apprehension of divine power, grace, and holiness; and, also, of the unchangeableness of God, that he is the same as when he de* livered his saints of old out of sreat tribulation. My soul was sundry times in prayer enlarged for God^s church and pe<q[^ Oh that Zion might become the "joy of the whole earth!'' It is better to wait upon God with patience, than to put confidence in any thing in this lower world. " My soul, wait thou on the Lord;'' for " from him comes thy salvation."

Dec. 23. " Felt a little more courage and resolution in religion, than'At some other times.

Dec. 24. " Had some assistance and longing desires after sanctifieation, in prayer this day ; especially in the evening: was sensible of my own weakness and spiritual impotency; saw plainly, that I should fall into sin, if God of his. abundant mercy did not " uphold my soul, and withhold me from evil." Oh that God would uphold me by his free Spirit^ and saoe me from the hour of temptation.^'^

Lord's day^ JJec. 25. " Prayed much in the morning, with a feeling sense of my own spiritual weakness and insumciem^ for any duty. God gave me some assistance in preaching to the Indians ; and especially in the afternoon, when I was enabled to speak with uncommon plainness, freedom, and eamestp ness. Blessed be God for any assistance granted to one so unworthy. Afterwards felt some thankfulness ; but still sensible of barrenness.—Spent some time in the evening with one or two persons under spiritual concern, and exhorting others to their duty, &c.

Dec. 26, " Rode down to Stockbridge. Was very much fatigued with my journey, wherein I underwent great hardships : was much exposed and very wet by falling into ariver. Spent the day and evening without much sense of divine and heavenly things; but felt guilty, grieved, and perplexed with wandering, careless thoughts.

Dec. 27. " Had a small degree of warmth in secret prayer, in the evening; but, alas! had but little spiritual life, and consequently but little comfort. Oh, the pressure of a body of death !

This day he wrote to his brother John, at Yale College, the following letter.

Kaunaumeek^ Dec. 27,1743. Dear Brother,

I long to see you, and to know how you fare in your journey through a world of inexpressible sorrow: where we are compassed about with ^^ vanity, confusion, and vexation of spirit.^^ I am more weary of life, I think, than ever I was. The whole world appears to me like a huge vacuum^ a vast empty space, whence nothing desirable, or at least satisfactory, can possibly be derived; and I long daily to die more and more to it; even though I obtain not that comfort from spiritual things which I earnestly desire. Worldly pleasures, such as flow from greatness, riches, honours, and sensual gratifications, are infinitely worse than none. May the Lord deliver us more and more from these vanities. I have spent most of the fall and winter hitherto in a very weak state of body; and sometimes under pressiDff inward trials and spiritual conflicts; but ^^ having obtained help from God, I continue to this day;^^ and am now somewhat better in health, than I was sometime ago. I find nothing more conducive to a life of Christianity^ man a diligent, industrious, and faithful improvement of precious time. Let us then faithfiilly perform that business, which is allotted to us by divine Providence, to the utmost of our bodily strength, and mental vigour. Why should we sink, and grow discou-raffed, with any particular trials and perplexities, which we are called to encounter in the world ? Death and Eternity are just before us; a few tossing billows more will waft us into the world of spirits, and we hope, through infinite grace, into endless pleasures, and uninterrupted rest and peace. Let us then "run, with patience, the race set before us;'' Heb. xii. 1,2. And, Oh, that we could depend more upon^ the living God^

and less upon our own wisdom and strength! Dear brother,

may the God of all grace comfort your heart, and succeed your stc^ies, mid make you an instrument of good to his people in your day. This is the constant prayer of

" Your affectionate brother,

"David Brainerd."

Dec. 28. " Rode about six miles to the ordination of Mr. Hopkins. At the solemnity I was somewhat affected with a sense of the greatness and importance of the work of a minister of Christ. Afterwards was grieved to see the vanity of the multitude. In the evening, spent a little time with some Christian friends, with some degree of satisfaction ; but most of the time, I had rather have been alone.

Dec. 29. " Spent the day mainly in conversing with friends; yet enjoyed little satisfaction, because I could find but few disposed to converse of divine and heavenly things. Alas, what are the ttuogs of this world, to afford satisfaction to the soul!—

Near night, returned to Stockbridge; in secret, I blessed God for retirement, and that I am not always exposed to the company and conversation of the world. O that I could live ^^ in the secret of God^s presence !^^

Dec 30. *^ Was in a solemn, devout frame in the evening. Wonder^ that earth, with all its charms, should ever allure me in the least degree. Oh, that I could always realize the being and holiness ^ God!

Dec. 31^ ^^ Rode from Stockbridge home to my house: the air was clear and calm, but as cold as ever 1 felt it, or nearly. I was in great danger of perishing by the extremity of the season.—Was enabled to meditate much on the road*

Lord's day^ Jan. 1,1744. ^^ In the morning, had some small degree of assistance in prayer. Saw myself so vile and an* worthy, that I could not look my people in the face, when I came to preach. O my meanness, folly, ignorance, and inward pollution !—In the evening, had a little assistance in prayer, ao th€it the duty was delightful, rather than burdensome. Reflected on the goodness of God to me in the past year, &C Of a truth God has been kind and gracious to me, though he hcLs caused me to pass through many sorrows ; he has provided fbr me bountifully, so that I have been enablol, in about fifteen months past, to bestow to charitable uses about an hundred pounds New England money, that I can now rem^mber.^ olessed be the Lord, that has so far used me as his steward^ to distribute a portion of his goods^ May I alwinrs remember, that all I have comes from God. Blessed be the Lord, that has carried me through all the toils, fatigues, and hardships of the year past, as well as the spiritual sorrows and conflicts that have attended it O that I could begin this year with Ood^ and spend the whole of it to his glory^ either in life or death!.

Jan. 2. " Had some affecting sense of my own impotency and spiritual weakness.—It is nothing but the power of God that keeps me from all manner of wickedness. I see / am nothings and can do nothing without help from above. Oh, for divine grace! In the evening had some ardour of soul in prayer, and longing desires to have God for my guide and safeguard at all times."

The following letter to his brother Israel, at Haddam, was written this day.

* Which was, I suppose, to the value of about one hundred and eigktjf^ve pounds in our bills of the old tenor, as they now pass.—By this, as well as many other thing^s it is manifest, that his frequent melancholy did not arise from the consideration of any disadvantage he was laid under to 2;et a living: in the world, by his expulsion from the collegfc.

Kaunaumeek^ Jan. 3,1743—4.

** VY DEAR BROTHER,

" There is but one thing that deserves our highest care and most ardent desires; and that is, that we may answer the great end for which we were made, vk. to glorify that God, who has given us our being and all our comforts, and do all the good we possibly can to our fellow-men^ while we live in the world. Verily life is not worth the having, if it be not improved for this noble end and purpose. Yet, alas, how little is this thought of among mankind ! Most men seem to live to themselves without much regard to the glory of God, or the good of their fellow-creatures. They earnestly desire, and eagerly pursue after the riches, the honours, and the pleasures of life, as if they really supposed, that wealth or greatness^, or merriment, could msd^e theur immortal souls happy. But alas! what false and delusive dreams are these ! And how miserable will those ere long be who are not ctwaked out of them, to see that all their happiness consists in living to Go^, and becoming ^^ holy, as he is holy r* Oh, may you never fall into" the tempers and vanities, the Si^isuality and folly of the present world ! You are by di-vme Providence, left as it were alone in a wide world, to act for yourself: be sure then to remember, that it is a world of tea^taiion. You have no earthly parents to be the means of forming your youth to piety and virtue, by their pious examples, and seasonable counsels; let this then excite you with greater diligence and fervency to look up to the Father of mercies for grace and assistance against all the vanities of the world. If you would glorify God, or answer his just expectations from you, and make your own soul happy in this and the coming world, observe these few directions ; though not from a father, yet from a brother who is touched with a tender concern for your present and future happiness.

** First; Resolve upon, and daily endeavour to practise a life of seriousness and strict sobriety. The wise man will tell you the great advantage of such a life, Eccl. vii. 3. Think of the life of Christ; and when you c^n find that he was pleased with jesting and vain merriment, then you may indulge in it yourself.

'* Again; be careful to make a good improvement of precious time. When you cease from labour, fill up your time in reading, meditation, and prayer; and while your hands are labouring, let your heart be employed, as much as possible, in divine thoughts.

" Further: Take heed that you faithfully perform the busi-ness which you have to do in the world, from a regard to the commands of God; and not from an ambitious desire of being^ esteemed better than others. We should always look upon ourselves as God's servants, placed in God's world, to do his

work; and accordingly labour faithfully for him; not with design to grow rich and great, but to glorify God, and to do the good we possibly can.

^^ Again: never expect any satisfaction or happiness from

world. If you hope for happiness in the world hope for it froi li

God, and not from the world. Do not think you shdl be morr^^ happy if you live to such or such a state of life, if you live to l^»« yourself, to be settled in the world, or if you shall gain an estaC« in it: but look upon it that you shall then be happy^ when yov can be constantly employed for God, and not for yourself; am/ desire to live in this world, only to do and mffer what God al-lots to you. When you can be of the spirit and temper d* angels, who are willing to come down into this lower world, to perform what God commands them, though their desires are heavenlyy and not in the least set on eartluy things, then yoa will be of that temper which you ought to have, C^. lii. 2.

^' Once more ; never think that you can live to God by yoitr own power or strength; but always look to, and rely on mm ht assistance, yea for all strength and grace. There is no greater truth than this, that ^ we can do nothing of ourselves ;^ (John xv. 5. and 3 Cor. iii. 5.) yet nothing but our own experience can.ef-fectually teach it us. Indeed, we are a long time m learning, that aU our strength and salvation is in God. This is a life much I think no unconverted man can possibly live; and yet it is a liiEb. which ewery godly soul is pressing after, in some good measure^ Let it then be your great concern, thus to devote yourself and your all to God.

" I long to see you, that I may say much more to you than I now can, for your benefit and welfare ; but I desire to commit you to, and leave you with, the Father of mercies^ and God of all grace; praying that you may be directed safely through an evil worlds to God's heavenly kingdom.

" I am your affectionate loving brother,

" David Brainerd.^'

Jan. 3, " Was employed mtfch of the day in writing; and spent some time in other necessary employment. But my time passes away so swiftly, that I am astonished when I reflect on it, and see now little I do. My state of solitude does not make the hours hang heavy upon my hands. O what reason of thank-^ fulness have I on account of this retirement! I find, that I do not, and it seems I cannot lead a Christian life, when I am abroad, and cannot spend time in devotion. Christian conversation, and serious meditation, as I should do. Those weeks that I am obliged now to be from home, in order to learn the Indian tongue, are mostly spent in perplexity and barrenness, without much sweet relish of divine things ; and I feel myself a stranger at the throne of grace, for want of more frequent and

continued retirement. When I return home, and give myself to meditation, prayer, and fasting, a new scene opens to my mind, and my soul longs for mortification, self-denial, humility, and divorcement from all the things of the world. This evening, my heart was somewhat warm and fervent in prayer and meditation, so that I was loath to indulge sleep. Continued in those duties till about midnight.

Jan. 4, " Was in a resigned and mortified temper of mind, much of the day. Time appeared a moment^ life a vapour^ and all enjoyments as empty bubbles^ and fleeting blasts of wind.

Jan. 5. « Had a humbling and oppressive sense of my un-worthiness. My sense of the badness of my own heart filled my soul with bitterness and anguish; which was ready to sink, as under the weight of a heavy burden. Thus I spent the evening, till late. Was somewhat intense and ardent in prayer.

Jan. 6. " Feeling my extreme weakness, and want of grace, the pollution of my soul, and danger of temptations on every side, I set apart this day for fasting and prayer, neither eating nor drinking from evening to evening, beseeching God to nave mercy on me. My soul intensely longed that the dreadful spots and stains of sin might be washed away from it. Saw something of the power and all-suflSciency of God, My soul seemed to rest on his power and grace ; longed for resignation to his vnll, and mortification to all things here below. My mind was ^eatly fixed on divine things : my resolutions for a life of mortification, continual watchmlness, self-denial, seriousness and devotion, were strong and fixed; my desires ardent and intense; mj conscience tender, and afraid of every appearance of evil. my soul grieved with reflection on past levity, and want of resolution for God. I solemnly renewed my dedication of myself to God, and longed for grace to enable me always to keep covenant with him. Time appeared very short, eternity near; and a great name, either in or after life, together with all earthly pleasures and profits, but an empty bubble, a deluding dream.

Jan. 7. " Spent this" day in seriousness, with steadfast resolutions for God, and a life of mortification. Studied closely till I felt my bodily strength fail. Felt some degree of resignation to Grod, with an acquiescence in his dispensations. Was grieved that I could do so little for God before my bodily strength failed. In the evening, though tired, was enabled to continue mstant in praver for some time. Spent the time in reading, meditation, ana prayer, till the evening was far spent: was grieved to think that I could not watch unto prayer the whole night. But blessed be God, heaven is a place of continual and incessant devotion, though the earth is dull.'"

Vol. X. IB

\22 MEMOIRS OV BRAINERI;.

The six days following^ he continued in the same happy frame of mind; enjoyed tnc same composure, cabnness, resignation, ardent desire, and sweet fervency of spirit, in a him degree, every day, not one excepted. Thursday^ this week, he kept as a day of secret fasting and prayer.

Jan, M. ^^ This morning, enjoyed a most solemn season in prayer: my soul seemed enlarged, and assisted to pour out Itself to God for grace, and for everv blessing I wanted for myself, my dear christians friends, and tor the church of God; and was so enabled to see Him who is invisible^ that my soul retted upon him for the performance of every thing 1 asked agreeable to his will. It was then my happiness to ^ continue instant in prayer,' and I was enabled to continue in it for near an hour. My soul was then' strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might' Longed exceedmgly for an angelic holiness and purity, and to have all my thoughts, at all times, employed in divine and heavenly things. O how unspeakably blessed it is, to feel a measure of that rectitude, in which we were at first created! Felt the same divine assistance in prayer sundry times in the day. My soul confided in God for myself, and for his Zion; trusted in divine power and grace, that he would do glorious things in his church on earth, for bis own glory."

The next day he speaks of some glimpses which he had of the divine glories, and of his being enabled to maintain his resolutions in some measure; but complains, that he could not draw near to God. He seems to be filled with trembling fears lest he should return to a life of vanity, to please himself with some of the enjoyments of this lower world; and speaks of his being much troubled, and feeling guilty, that he should address immortal souls with no more ardency and desire of their salvation. On Monday^ he rode down to Stockbridge, when he was distressed with extreme cold; but notwithstanding, his mind was in a devout and solemn frame in his journey. The four next days, he was very ill, probably from the cold in his journey; yet he spent the time in a solemn manner. On FVi-^ day evening, he visited Mr. Hopkins ; and on Saturday, rode eighteen miles to Salisbury, where he kept the Sabbath, and enjoyed considerable degrees of God's gracious presence, assistance in duty, and divine comfort and refreshment, longing to give himself wholly to God, to be his forever.

Jan. as. " I think 1 never felt more resigned to God, nor so dead to the world, in every respect, as now; was dead to all desire of reputation and greatness, either in life, or after

death; all I longed for, was to be holy, humble, crucified to the world, &c.

Jan. 24, " Near noon, rode over to Canaan. In the evening, I was unexpectedly visited by a considerable number of people, with whom I was enabled to converse profitably on divine things; took pains to describe the difference between a regtdar and irregular self-love ; the one consisting with a supreme love to God^ but the other not; the former uniting God's glory, and the soul's happiness, that they become one common interest, but the latter disjoining and separating God^s gloiy and man's happiness, seeking the latter with a neglect of the former. Illustrated this by that genuine love that is founded between the sexes; which is diverse from that which is wrought up towards a person only by rational argument, or hope of self-interest. Love is a pleasing passion, it chords pleasure to the mind where it is ; but yet, genuine love is not, nor can be placed on any object tvith that design of pleasure itself:'

Qo Wednesday he rode to Sheffield; the next day^ to Stock-bridge ; and on Saturday^ home to Kaunaumeek, though the season was cold and stormy: which journey was followed with illness and pain. It appears by this diary, that he spent the time while riding, in profitable meditations, and in lifting up his heart to God; and he speaks of assistance, comfort and refreshment ; but still complains of barrenness, &c. His diary ftwp tfie five next days is full of the most heavy, bitter com-

f>laint8; and he expresses himself as full of shame and self-oathing fiM* his lifeiess temper of mind and sluggishness of spirit, and as being in perplexity and extremity, and appearing to himself unspediably vile and guilty before God, on account of some inward workings of corruption he found in his heart, &c.

Feb. 2. " Spent this day in fasting and prayer; seeking the presence and assistance of God, that he would enable me to overcome all my corruptions, and spiritual enemies.

Feb. 3, " Enjoyed more freedom and comfort than of late'; was engaged in meditation upon the different whispers of the various powers and affections of a pious mind, exercised with a great variety of dispensations; and could not but write, as well as meditate, on so entertaining a subject. I hope the Lord gave me some true sense of divine things this day: but alas, how great and pressing are the remains of indwelling corruption! I iun now more sensible than ever, that God alone is ^ the author and finisher of our faith,' i. e. that the whole and every part of sanctification, and every good word, work, or thought, found in

me, is the efl'ect of his power and grace; that, 'without him, I can do nothing,' in the strictest sense, and that, ' he works in us to will and to do of his own good pleasure,' and fW>m no other motive, O how amazing it is, that people can talk so much about men's power and goodness; when, if God did not hold us back every moment, wc should be devils incarnate! This my bitter experience, for several days last past, has abundantly taught me concerning myself."

The writing, here referred to, was the following. It was found among his detached papers, and entitled by him '' A Schema of a Dialogue, between the various powers and cfff^ections of the mind^ as they are found alternately whispering in the &odly sotd.^^

"The Understanding introduced, (1) As discovering its own excellency, and capacity of enjoying the most sublime pleasure and happiness. (3) As observing its desire equal to its capacity, and incapable of being satisfied with any thing which will not fill it to the utmost extent of its exercise. (3) As finding itself a dependent thing, not self-sufficient; and, consequently, unable to spin happiness, (as the spider spins its web) out of its own bowels. This self-sufficiency observed to be the property and prerogative of God alone, and not belonging to any created being, (i) As in vain seeking sublime pleasure, satisfaction, and happmess adequate to its nature, amongst created beings. The search and knowledge of the truth in the natural world, allowed indeed to be refreshing to the mind; but atill failing to afford complete happiness. (5.). As discovering the excellency and glory of God, that he is the fountain of goodness, and well-spring of happiness, and every way fit to answer the enlarged desires and cravings of our immortal souls.

2. The Will introduced, as necessarily, yet freely, choosing this God for its supreme happiness and only portion; fully complying with the understanding's dictates; acquiescing in God as the best good; in his will as the best rule for intelligent creatures; rejoicing that God is in every respect just what he is; and, withal, choosing and delighting to be a dependent creature, always subject to this God, not aspiring after self-sufficiency and supremacy, but acquiescing in the contrary.

3. Ardent Love introduced, as passionately longing to please and glorify the divine Being, to be in every respect conformed to him, and in that way to enjoy him. This love or desire represented as most genuine ; not induced by mean and mercenary views; not primarily springing from selfish hopes of salvation, whereby the divine glories would be sacrificed to the idol self; not arising from a slavish fear of divine anger in case of neglect, nor yet from hopes of feeling the sweetness of that

tender and pleasant passion of love in one's own breast, but from a just esteem of the beauteous object beloved. This love further represented, as attended with vehement longings after the enjoyment of its object, but unable to find by what means.

4. "The Understanding^g'din introduced, as informing, (1.) How God might have been enjoyed, yea, how he must necessarily have been enjoyed, had not man sinned against him; that, as there was knowledge^ likeness and love^ so there must needs be enjoyment, while there is no impediment (2.) How he may be enjoyed in some measure now, viz. by the same knowledge^ begetting likeness and Zovc, which will be answered with returns of Itwe, and the smiles of God's countenance, which are better than life. (3.) How God may be perfectly enjoyed, viz. by the soul's perfect freedom from sin. This perfect freedom never obtained till death; and then not by any unaccountable means, or in any unheard of manner; but the same by which it has obtained some likeness to, and fruition of God in this world, viz. a clear manifestation of him.

5. " Holy Desire appears, and inquires why the soul may not be perfectly holy, and so perfect in the enjoyment of God here; and expresses most insatiable thirstings after such a temper, and such fruition, and most consummate blessedness.

6. " Understanding again appears, and informs, that God designs that those whom he sanctifies in part here, iand intends for immortal glory, shall tarry awhile in this present evil world, that their own experience of temptations, &c. may teach them bow great the deliverance is, which God has wrought for them, that they may be swallowed up in thankfulness and admiration to eternity ; as also, that they may be instrumental of doing good to their fellow-men. Now, if they were perfectly holy, &c., a world of sin would not be a fit habitation for them : and fiu1;her, such manifestations of God as are necessary completely to sanctify the «oul, would be insupportable to the body, so that we cannot see God and live.

7. " Holy Impatience^ is next introduced, complaining of the sins and sorrows of life, and almost repining at the distance of a state of perfection ; uneasy to see and feel the hours hang so dull and heavy, and almost concluding that the temptations, hardships, disappointments, imperfections, and tedious employments of life, will never come to a happy period.

8. " Tender Conscience comes in, and meekly reproves the complaints of Impatience ; urging how careful and watchful we ought to be, lest we should offend the divine Being with complaints; alleging also the fitness of our waiting patiently upon God for all we want, and that in a way of doing and suf-

♦That is, more properly, impatience in a holy soul^ vcad in reference to B,holj/ end : bat impatience itself is not holy, except we take the term in a less proper •ense, as onr author eviclently doe?.

fering ; and at the same time mentioning the barrenness of the soul, how much precious time is misimproved, and how little it has enjoyed of God, compared with what it might have done ; as also suggesting how frequently impatient complaints spring from nothmg better than self-love, want of resignation, and a greater reverence of the divine Being.

9. ^^ Judgment or Sound Mind next appears, and duly weighs the complaints of Impatience and the gentle admonitions of tender Conscience^ and impartially determines between them. On the one hand, it concludes, that we may always be impatient with sin ; and supposes that we may be also with such sorrow, pain and discouragement, as hinder our pursuit of holiness, though they arise from the weakness of nature. It allows us to be impatient of the distance at which we stand from a state of perfection and blessedness. It further indulges impatience at the delay of time ; when we desire the period of it for no other end, than that we may with angels be employed in the most lively spiritual acts of devotion, and in giving all possible glory to Him that lives forever. With temptations and sinful imperfections, it thinks we may justly be uneasy ; and with disappointments also, at least those which relate to our hopes of communion with God, and growing conformity to him. As to the tedious employments and hardships of life, it supposes some longing for the end of them not inconsistent with a spirit of faithfulness, and a cheerful disposition to perform the one and endure the other. It supposes that a faithful servant, who frilly designs to do all he possibly can, may still justly long for the evening ; and that no rational man would blame his kind and tender spouse, if he perceived her longing to be with him while yet faithfulness and duty to him might still induce her to yield for the present, to remain at a painful distance from him. On the other hand, it approves of the caution, care and watchfulness of Tender Conscience^ lest the divine Being should be offended with impatient complaints; it acknowledges the fitness of our waiting upon God^ in a way of patient doing and suffering ; but supposes this very consistent with ardent desires to depart^ and to be with Christ. It owns it fit that we should always remember our own barrenness, and thinks also that we should be impatient of it, and consequently long for a state of freedom from it; and this, not so much that we may feel the happiness of it, but, that God may have the glory. It grants that impatient complaints often spring from self-love, and want of resignation and humility. Such as these it disapproves: and determines we should be impatient only of absence from God, and distance from that state and temper wherein we may most glorify him.

10. " Godly Sorrow introduced, as making her sad moan, not so much that she is kept from the free possession and fiill en-

joyment of happiness, but that God must be dishonoured ; the soul being still in a world of sin, and itself imperfect. She here, with grief, counts over past faults, present temptations, and fears from the future.

11. " Ho-pe or Holy Confidence appears, and seems persuaded that' nothmg shall ever separate the soul from the love of God in Christ Jesus.' It expects divine assistance and grace sufficient for all the doing and suffering work of time, and that death will ere long put a happy period to all sin and sorrow; and so takes occasion to rejoice.

12. " Godly Fear^ or Holy Jealousy here steps in, and suggests some timorous apprehensions of the danger of deception: mentions the deceitfulness of the heart, the great influence of irregular self-love in a fallen creature ; inquires whether itself is not likely to have fallen in with delusion, since the mind is so dark, and so little of God appears to the soul; and queries whetfier all its hopes of persevering grace may not be presumption, and whether its confident expectations of meeting death as a friend, may not issue in disappointment

13. " Hereupon Reflection appears, and reminds the person . of his past experiences; as to the prepatory work of conviction and humiliation ; the view he then had of the impossibility of salvation, from himself or any created arm ; the manifestation he has likewise had of the glory of God in Jesus Christ; how he then admired that glory, and chose that God for his only portion, because of the excellency and amiableness he discovered in him; not from slavish fear of being damned, if he did not, nor from base and mercenary hopes of saving himself; but from a just esteem of that beauteous and glorious object; as also how he had from time to time rejoiced and acquiesced in God for what he is in himself; being delighted, that he is infinite in holiness, justice, power, and sovereignty, as well as in mercy, goodness, and love ; how he has likewise, scores of times, felt his soul mourn for sin, for this very reason, because it is contrary and grievous to God ; yea, how he has mourned over one vain and impertinent thought, when he has been so far from fear of the divine vindictive wrath for it, that on the contrary he has enjoyed the highest assurance of the divine everlasting love : how he has, from time to time, delighted in the commands of God, for their own purity and perfection, and longed exceedingly to be conformed to them, and even to be • holy, as God is holy ;' and counted it present heaven, to be of a heavenly temper ; how he has frequently rejoiced, to think of being forever subject to, and dependent on God; accounting it infinitely greater happiness to glorify God in a state of subjection to, and dependence on him, than to be a §od himself: and how heaven itself would be no heaven to him, if he could not there be every thing that God would have him be.

14. '^ Upon this, Spiritual Sensation being awakened, comes in and declares, that she now feels and ^ tastes that the Lord is gracious ;^ that he is the only supreme good, the only soul satisfying happiness; that he is a complete, self-sufficient, and almighty portion. She whispers, ' Whom have I in heaven but this God,' this dear and blessed portion ? ' and there is none upon earth I desire beside him.' O it is heaven to please him, and to be just what he would have me be I, O that my soul were ' holy, as God is holy !' Oh that it were ' pure, as Christ is pore;' and ^ perfect, as my Father in heaven is perfect I' Th^e are the sweetest commands in God's book, comprising all others ; and shall I break them ? must I break them? am I under a fatal necessity of it, as long as I live in this world ? O my soul ! wo, wo is me, that I am a sinner ! because I now necessarily grieve and offend this blessed God, who is infinite in goodness and grace. O methinks, should he punish me for my sins, it would not wound my heart so deep as to offend him ; but, though I sin continually, he continually repeats his kindness towards me! O methinks, I could bear any suffering ; but how can I bear to grieve and dishonour this blessed God 1 How shall I give ten thousand times more honour to him? What shall 1 do, to glorify and worship this best of beings ? O that I could consecrate myself, soul and body, to his service for ever ! O that I could give up myself to him, so as never more to attempt to be my own, or to have any will or affections that are not perfectly conformed to his! But O alas, alas ! I cannot, I feel I cannot, be thus entirely devoted to God ! I cannot live and sin not. O ye angels, do ye glorify him incessantly ; if possible, exert yourselves still more, in more lively and ardent devotion ; if possible, prostrate yourselves still lower before the throne of the blessed king of heaven. I long to bear a part with you, and if it were possible to help you. Yet when we have done, we shall not be able to offer the ten thousandth part of the homage he is worthy of. While Spiritual Sensation whispered these things. Fear and Jealousy were greatly overcome ; and the soul replied, ' Now I know and am assured,' &c. and again, it welcomed death as a friend, saying,' O death where is thy sting !' &c.

15. " Finally, Holy Resolution concludes the discourse, fixedly determining to/oZZoi^ hard after God,, and continually to pursue a life of conformity to him ; and the better to pursue this, enjoining it on the soul always to remember, that God is the only source of happiness; that his will is the only rule of rectitude to an intelligent creature ; that earth has nothing in it desirable for itself, or any further than God is seen in it; and that the knowledge of God in Christ, begetting and maintaining love, and mortifying sensual and fleshy appetites, is the way to be

holy on earth, and so to be attempered to the complete holiness of the-beavenly world/^

jFTe6.4. '* Enjoyed some degree of freedom and spiritual refreshment ; was enabled to pray with some fervency, and longing desires of Zion^s prosperity, and my faith and hope seemed to take hold of Gody for the performance of what I was enabled to plead for. Sanctification in myself, and the ingathering of God^s elect, were all my desire -, and the hope of their accomplishment all my joy/'

Lord'*8 dayy Feb, 5. " Was enabled in some measure to rest and confide m God, and to prize his presence and some glimpses of the hght of his countenance, above my necessary food.— Thought myself, after the season of weakness, temptation, and desertion I endured last week, to be somewhat like Sampson, when his locks began to grow again. Was enabled to preach to my people with more life and warmth, than I have for some weeks past.

Feb. 6. "This morning, my soul again was strengthened in God, and found some sweet repose in him in prayer ; longing especially fcH* the complete mortification of sensuality and pride, and for resignation to God's dispensations, at all times, as through grace, I felt it at this time. I did not desire deliverance from any difficulty that attends my circuuislances, unless God was willing. O how comfortable is this temper ! Spent most of the day in reading God's word, in writing, and prayer. Enjoyed repeated and fi'equent comfort and intenseness of soul in prayer through the day. In the evening, spent some hours in private conversation with my people; and afterwards felt some warmth in secret prayer.

Feb. 7. " Was much engaged in some sweet meditations on the powers and affections of the godly soul in the pursuit of their beloved object; wrote something of the native language of spiritual sensation, in its soft and tender whispers; declaring, that it now ' feels and tastes, that the Lord is gracious ; that he is the supreme good, the only soul satisfying happiness : that he is a complete, sufficient, and almighty portion : saying,

^ Whom have I in Heaven btU thee ? and there is none upon

earth that I desire beside this blessed portion. O, I feel that 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 jMire, eve:ii, 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 1 under the necessity of it as long as 1

live in the world! O my soul, wo, wo is me, that I am a sinner,

because I now necessarilv grieve and offend this blessed God,

Vol. X. * 17

who is iniinite in goodness and grace ! O methinks it' 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! O methinks I could bear any su^ ferinss; but how can I bear to grieve and dishonour this blessed GodT How shall I yield ten mousand times more honour to him ? What shall I do to glorify and worship this best of beings ? O that I could consecrate myself, soul and body, to his service forever I O that I could give up myself to him, so as never more to attempt to be my own, or to have any will or affections that are not perfectly conformed to him I Butt alas, alas! I fiqd I cannot be thus entirely devoted to Go^; I cannot live, and not sin. O ye angels, do ye glorify him incessantly; and if possible, prostrate yourselves lower before the blessed King of heaven ! I long to bear a part with you; and, if it were possible, to help you. O when we have done all that we can, to all eternity, we shall not be able to offer the ten thousandth part of die homage which the glorious Grod deserves !'

^^ Felt something spiritual, devout, resisned, and mortified to the world, much of the day; and especidly towards and in the evening. Blessed be God, that he enables me to love him for himself

Feb. 8. " Was in a comfortable frame of soul, most of the day; though sensible of, and restless under spiritual barren* ness. I find that both mind and body are quickly tired with intenseness and fervour in the things of God. O that I could be as incessant as angels in devotion and spiritual fervour.

Feb. 9. " 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. Enjoyed some realizing sense of divine power and goodness in prayer, several times; and was enabled to roll the burden of myself, and friends, and Zion, upon the goodness and grace of God; but, in the general, was more dry and barren than I have usually been of late, upon such occasions.

Feb. 10. " Was exceedingly oppressed, most of the day, with shame, grief, and fear, under a sense of my past folly, as well as present barrenness and coldness. When God sets before me my past misconduct, especially any instances of miS' guided zecdj it sinks my soul into shame and confusion, makes me afraid of a shaking leaf. My fear is such as the prophet Jeremy complains of, Jer. xx. 10. I have no confidence to hold up my face, even before my fellow worms; but only when my soul confides in God, and I find the sweet temper of Christ, the spirit of humility, solemnity and mortification, and resignation, alive in my soul. But, in the evening, was unexpectedly

refreshed in pouring out my complaint to God; my shame and fear was turned into a sweet composure and acquiescence in God.

Feb. 11. '^ Felt much as yesterday; enjoyed but little sensible commtmion with God.

Lories dayy Feb. 12. '^ My soul seemed to confide in God, and to repose itself on him; and had intense longings after God in prayer. Enjoyed some sweet divine assistance, in the forenoM, in preactung; but in the afternoon, was more per-ptexed with shame, &c. Afterwards, found some relief in prayer; loved, as a feeble, afflicted, despised creatwe, to Cttst myself on a God of infinite grace and goodness, hoping for no hi^iness but firom him.

jFeb. 13. ** Was calm and sedate in morning devotions; and mjr soul seemed to rely on God. Rode to Stockbridge, and emoyed some comfortable meditations by the way; had a more refreshing taste and relish of heavenly blessedness, than I have enjoyed loit many months past. I have many times, of late, feh as ardent desires of holiness as ever; but not so much sense of the sweetness and unspeakable pleasure of the enjoyments and employments of heaven. My soul longed to leave earth, and bear a part with angels in their celestial employments. My soul said,'Lord it is good to be here;^ and it appeared to be better to die, than to lose the relish of these heavenly delights.^^

A sense of divine things seemed to continue with him, in a lesser d^ree, through the next day. On Wednesday<, he was, by some discourse which he heard, cast into a melancholy gloom, that operated much in the same manner as his melan-chcdy had formerly done, when he came first to Kaunaumeek; th^ effects of which seemed to continue in some degree the six foUawing days.

Feb. ^SL **' In the morning, had as clear a sense of the exceeding pollution of my nature, as ever I remember to have had in my life. I then appeared to myself inexpressibly loathsome and defiled. Sins of childhood, of early youth, and such t^lfies as I had not thought of for years together, as I remem-%Mr, came now fresh to my view, as if committed but yester-^layv 8Ad appeared in the most odious colours; they appeared ^inore in number than the hairs of my head ; yea, they ^ went ciffer my head as a heavy burden.^ In the evening, the hand of fStHh seemed to be strengthened in God; my soul seemed to >r«Bt and ttcquiesce in him; was suppcnted under my burdens, ^fe^eading the cxxvtb psdm; and found that it was sweet and ^somfinrtable to lean on God

Feb. !23. •' Was frequent in prayer, and enjoyed some assistance.—There is a God in heaven who overrules all things for the best; and this is the comfort of my soul: ^^ I had faintM unless I had believed to see the goodness of God in the land of the living," notwithstanding present sorrows.—In the eiFen-ing enjoyed some freedom in prayer, for myself, friends, and the t church of God.

Feb,2i. ^^ Was exceedingly restless and perplexed under a sense of misimprovement of time; moumea to see time pass away; felt in the greatest hurry; seemed to have every thing to do: yet could do nothing, but only grieve and groan under my ignorance, unprofitableness, meanness, the foolishness of my actions and thoughts, the pride and bitterness of some past frames, all which at this time appeared to me in lively colonrs, and filled me with shame. I could not compose my mind to any profitable studies, by reason of this pressure. And the reason, I judge, why I am not allowed to study a great part of my time, is, because I am endeavouring to lay in such a stock of knowledge as shall be a self'SiMciency, —I know it to be my indispensable duty to study, and quali^ myself in the heali manner 1 can for public service: but this is my misery, I naturally study and prepare, that I may ^^ consume it upon iny lusts" of pride and self-confidence."

He continued in much tlie same frame of uneasiness at the misimprovement of time, and pressure of spirit under a sense of vileness, unprofitableness, olc. for the six following days ; excepting some intervals of calmness and composure, in resignation to, and confidence in God.

March 2. " Was most of the day employed in writing on a divine subject. Was frequent in prayer, and enjoyed some small degree of assistance. But m the evening, God was pleased to grant me divine sweetness in prayer; especially in the duty of intercession. I think, I never felt so much kindness and love to those who, I have reason to think, are my enemies—though at that time I found such a disposition to think the best of all, that 1 scarce knew how to think that any such thing as enmity and hatred lodged in my soul; it seemed as if all the world must needs be friends—and never prayed with more freedom and delight, for myself, or dearest friend, than I did now for my enemies.

March 3. " In the morning, spent (I believe) an hour in prayer, with great intenseness and freedom, and with the most soft and tender affection towards mankind. I longed that those who, I have reason to think, owe me ill will, might be eternally happy. It seemed refreshing to think of meeting them in heaven, how much soever they had injured me oft

earth: had no disposition to insist upon any confession from them, in order to reconciliation, and the exercise of love and kindness to them. O it is an emblem of heaven itself, to love all the world with a love of kindness, forgiveness, and benevolence ; to feel our souls sedate, mild and meek ; to be void of all evil surmisings and suspicions, and scarce able to think evil of any man upon any occasion; to find our hearts simple, open, and free, to those that look upon us with a different eye I—^Prayer was so sweet an exercise to me, that I knew not how to cease, lest I should loose the spirit of prayer. Felt no disposition to eat or drink, for the sake of the pleasure of it, bat only to support my nature, and fit me for divme service. Ccmld not be content without a very particular mention of a great number of dear friends at the throne of grace; as also the particular circumstances of many, so far as they were known.

' Lord'^8 day, March 4. " Tn the morning, enjoyed the same intenseness in prayer as yesterday morning, though not in so great a degree: felt the same spirit of love, universal benevolence, forgiveness, humility, resignation, mortfication to the world, and composure of mind, as then. My soul rested in Oi>d ; 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 1 cannot apprehend and confide in God, all things appear with a different aspect.*'

Through the four next days, he complains of barrenness, want of holy confidence in God, stupidity, wanderings of mind, <&c., and speaks of oppression of mind, under a sense of exceeding meanness, past follies, as well as present workings of corruption. On Friday, he seems to have been restored to a considerable degree of the same excellent frame, which he enjoyed the Saturday before.

March 10. " In the morning, felt exceeding clead to the

world, and all its enjoyments. I thought I was ready and willing

to give op life and all its comforts, as soon as called to it; and

yet then had as much comfort of life as almost ever I had. Life

itself now appeared but an empty bubble; the riches, honours,

and common enjoyments of life appeared extremely tasteless.

I longed to be perpetually and entirely crucified to all things

here below, by the cross of Christ. My soul was sweetly resigned

to God's disposal of me, m every regard; and I saw that nothing

had happened but what was best for me. I confided in God, that

he would never leave me, though I should " walk through the

valley of the shadow of death." It was then my meat and drink

<o6e haly^ to live to the Lord, and die to the Lord. And I thought

that I then enjoyed such a heaven, as far exceeded the most sub* lime conceptions of an unregenerate soul; and even unspeakably beyond what I myself could conceive of at another time. I did not wonder that Peter said, " Lord, it is good to be here,'' when thus refreshed with divine glories. My soul was full of love and tenderness in the duty of intercession; especially felt a most sweet affection to some precious godly ministers, of my acquaintance. Prayed earnestly for dear Christians, and for those 1 hove reason to fear are my enemies; and could not have qpokeii a word of bitterness, or entertained a bitter thought, against the vilest man living. Had a sense of my own great unwOTthiness. My soul seemed to breathe forth love and praise to God afifeah, when I thought he would let his children love and receive me as one of their brethren and fellow-citizens. When I diought of their treating me in that manner, I longed to lie at their feet; and could think of no way to express the sinceritr and simplicity of my love and esteem of them, as beins much better than myselfl Towards night, was very sorrowful; seened to myself the worst creature nving; and could not pray, nor meditate, nor think of holding up my face before the world.— Was a little relieved in prayer, in the evening; but longed to get on my knees, and ask forgiveness of every body that ever had seen any thing amiss in my past conduct, especialfy in my relisioiis zeal. Was afterwards much perplexed, so that 1 could not sleep quietly.

Lord^s day^ March 11. " My soul was, in some measure, strengthened in God^ in morning devotion: so that I was released from trembling fear and distress. Preached to my people from the parable of the sower ^ Matth. xiii. and enjoyed some iassistance, both parts of the day ; had some freedom, affection, and fervency, in addressing my poor people; longed that God should take hold of their hearts, and make them spiritually alive. And, indeed, I had so much to say to them, that I knew not how to leave off speaking.

This was the last Sabbath in which he ever performed public service at Kaunaumeek, and these the last sermons which he ever preached there. It appears by his diary, that while he continued with these Indians, he took great pains with them, and did it with much discretion ; but the particular manner how, has been omitted for brevity's sake.

March 12. ^^In the morning, was in a devout, tender, and loving frame of mind; and was enabled to cry to God, I hope, with a child-like spirit, with importunity, resignation, and composure of mind. My spirit was full of quietness, and love to mankind; and longed that peace should reign on the earlii; was grieved at the very thoughts of a/Jery, angry^ and intent

jierate zeal in religion; mourned over past follies in that regard; and confided in God for strength and grace sufficient for my future work and trials. Spent the day mainly in hard labour, making preparation for my intended journey.

March 13, " Felt my soul going forth after God sometimes; but not with such'ardency as I desired. In the eveninff, was enabled to continue instant in prayer^ for some considerable time together; and especially had respect to the journey I designed to enter upon, with the leave of divine providence, on the morrow. Enjoyed some freedom and fervency, intreating that the divine presence might attend me in every place where my business might lead me; and had a particular reference to the trials and temptations to which I apprehend I might be more eminently exposed in particular places. Was strengthened and comforted; although I was before very weary. Truly the joy of the Lord is strength and life.

mwrcn 14. ^^ Enjoyed some intenseness of soul in prayer, repeatinff my petitions for God^s presence in every place where 1 expected to be in my journey. Besought the Lord that I might not be too much pleased and amused with dear friends and acquaintance, in one place and another. Near ten, set out on my journey; and near night came to Stockbridge.

March 15. " Rode down to Sheffield. Here I met a messenger from East Hampton on Long Island; who, by the unanimous vote of that large town, was sent to invite me thither, in order to settle with that people, where I had been before frequently invited. Seemed more at a loss what was my duty, than before; when I heard of the great difficulties of that place, I was much concerned and grieved, and felt some desire to comply with their request; but knew not what to do : endeavoured to commit the case to God."

The two next days^ he went no further than Salisbury, being much hindered by the rain. When he came there, he was much indisposed. He speaks of comfortable and profitable conversation with christian friends, on these days.

Lord'^s daV'i March 18. " [At Salisbury.] Was exceeding weak and famt, so that I could scarce walk: but God was pleased to afford me much freedom, clearness, and fervency in preaching: I have not had the like assistance in preaching to sinners for many months past. Here another messenger met me, and informed me of the vote of another congregation, to give me an invitation to come among them upon probation, for settlement.* Was somewhat exercised in mind with a

* This congregation was Uiat at Millington, near Haddam* They were rery eancstly desiroas of his coming among them.

weight and burden of care. Oh that God would ^* send fi faithful labourers into his harvest !^^

After this he went forward on his journey towards New Yo and New Jersey: in which he proceeded slowly; perfi his journey under great degrees of bodily indisposition. Ho ever, he preached several times by the way, being urged _ ^ friends, in which he had considerable assistance. lie spealci! of comfort in conversation with christian friends, from time time, and of various things in the exercises and frames of hh^ heart, which show much of a divine influence on his mind i this journey : but yet complains of the things that he feared^ viz. a decline of his spiritual life, or vivacity in religion, by^ means of his constant removal from place to place, and want of retirement; and complains bitterly of his unworthiness, dead-ness, &c. He came to New York on Wednesday^ March 28, and to Elizabethtown on the Saturday following, where it seems he waited till the commissioners came together.

April. 5. ^^ Was again much exercised with weakness, and with pain in my head. Attended on the commissioners in their meetmg.t Resolved to go on still with the Indian affair, if divine providence permitted; although I had before felt some inclination to go to East Hampton, where I was solicited to go."

By the invitations which Brainerd had lately received, it appears, that it was not from necessity, or for want of opportunities to settle in the ministry amongst the English, notwithstanding the disgrace he had been laid under at college, that he was determined to forsake all the outward comforts to be enjoyed in the English settlements, to ^o and spend his life among the savages, and endure the difficulties and self-denials of an Indian mission. He had, just as he was leaving Kaunaumeek, had an earnest invitation to a settlement at East Hampton on Long Islan.d, the fairest, pleasantest town on the whole island, and one of its largest and most wealthy parishes. The people there were unanimous in their desires to have him for their pastor, and for a long time continued in an earnest pursuit of what they desired, and were hardly brought to relinquish their endeavours, and give up their hopes of obtaining him. Besides, the invitation which he had to Millington, was near his native town,

t The Indians at Kaunaumeek being but few in number, and Brainerd haying now been labouring among them about a year, and having prevailed upon them to be willing to leave Kaunaumeek, and remove to Stockbridge, to live constantly under Mr. Sergeant's ministry; he thought he might now do more service for Christ among the Indians elsewhere: and therefore went ibis journey to New Jersey to lay the matter before the commissioners ; who met at Elizabethtown, on the occasion, and determined that he should forthwith leave Kaunaumeek; and go to the Delaware In'.lia'i?.

and in the midst of his friends. Nor did Craixerd choose the business of a missionary to the Indians, rather tlian accept of those invitations, because he was unacquainted with the difficulties and sufferings which attended such a service; for he had had experience of these difficulties in summer and winter ; having spent about a twelve-month in a lonely desert among these savages, where he had gone through extreme hardships, and been the subject of a train of outward and inward sorrows. which were now fresh in his mind. Notwithstanding all these things, he chose still to go on with this business; and that. although the place to which he was now going, was at a much greater distance from most of his friends, acquaintance, and native land.

After this he continued two or three days in New Jersey, ver}-ill; and then returned to New York; and from thence into New England; and went to his native town of Haddam, where he arrived on Saturday, April 14. And he continues still his bitter complaints of want of retirement. While he was in New York, he says thus, ^^ O it is not the pleasures of the world which can comfort me ! If God deny his presence, what are the pleasures of the city to me ? One hour of sweet retirement where God is, is bett^ than the whole world.'^ And he continues to complain of his ignorance, meanness, and unworthiness. However, he speaks of some seasons of special assistance and divine sweetness. He spent some days among his friends at East Hampton and Millington.

April 17. '• Rode to Millington again ; and felt perplexed irhen I set out; was feeble in body, and weak in faith. I was oing to preach a lecture; and feared I should never have as-Lstance enough to get through. But, contriving to ride alone, t a distance from the company that was going, I spent the me in lifting up my heart to God. Had not gone far before ly soul was abundantly strengthened with those words, ^^ If rod be for us, who can be against us ?'^ I went on, confiding i Crod ; and fearing nothing so much as self-confidence. In ds frame I went to the house of God, and enjoyed some as-Btance. Afterwards, felt the spirit of love and meekness in [>nver8ation with some friends. Then rode home to my bro-ler^s: and, in the evening, singing hymns with friends, my 3ul seemed to melt: and in prayer, ^erwards, enjoyed the xercise of faiths and was enamed to be fervent in spirit: found lore of God^s presence, than I have done any time in my late ^^arisome journey. Eternity appeared very near; my nature iraa very weak, and seemed reaay to be dissolved; the sun defining, and the shadows of the evening drawing on apace.

longed to fill up the remaining moments all for God! rhooffh my bodv was so feeble, and wearied with preaching,

l;]iS MEMOIRS OF imAlXLHD.

mid iniicli priviilc conversation, yet I wanted to sit up all night to do sometliing for God. To God, the giver of these refreshments, be glory for ever and ever. Amen.

April 18. '• Was very weak, and enjoyed but little spiritual comfort. Was exercised with one who cavilled against original .sm. May the Lord open his eyes to see the fountain of sin in himself f'^

After this, he visited several ministers in Connecticut; and then travelled towards Kaunaumeek, and came to Mr. Sergeant^s at Stockbridge, Thursday, April 26. He performed this Joulmey in a very weak state of body. The things he speaks o^ apper* taining to the frames and exercises of his mind, are at some times deadness and want of spiritual comfort; at other times, resting in God, spiritual sweetness in conversation, enga^edness in meditation on the road, assistance in preaching, rejoicing to think that so much more of his work was done, and he so much nearer to the eternal world. And he once and again speaks of a sense of great ignorance and spiritual pollution.

April 27 and 28. '^ Spent some time in visiting friends, and discoursing with.my people, (who were now moved down from their own place to Mr. Sergeant's,) and found them very glad-to see me returned. Was exercised in my mind with a sense of my own unworthiness.

Lord's day^ April 29. Preached for Mr. Sergeant both parts of the day, from Rev. xiv. 4. These are they which were not defiled^ <^c. Enjoyed some freedom in preaching, though not much spirituality. In the evening, my heart was in some measure lifted up in thankfulness to God for any assistance.

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

May 1. " Having received new orders to go to a number of Indians, on Delaware river, in Pennsylvania, and my people here being mostly removed to Mr. Sergeant's, I this day took all my clothes, books, &c. and disposed of them, and set out for Delaware river; but made it my way to return to Mr. Sergeant's, which 1 did this day, just at night. Rode several hours in the rain through the howling wilderness, although I was so disordered in bodv, that little or nothing but blood came from

me.'.'

He continued at Stockbridge the next day^ and on Thursday rode a little way, to Sheffield^ under a great degree of illness ; but with encouragement and cheerfulness of mind under his fatigues. On Friday, he rode to Salisbury, and continued there till after the Sabbath. He speaks of his soul's being, some part of this time, refreshed in conversation with some Christian

friends, about their heavenly home, and their journey thither. At other times, he speaks of himself as exceedingly perplexed ^ith barrenness and deadness, and has this exclamation : " O ^Uit time should pass with so little done for God!'' On Mon-^^w/, he rode to Sharon; and speaks of himself as distressed at ^e consideration of the misimprovement of time.

JUay 8." " Set out from Sharon, in Connecticut, and travelled

^^ut forty-five miles to a place called Fishkill;* and lodged

^ere. Spent much of my time, while riding, in prayer, that God

^otild 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

^^Unk, 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."

Oh that I might follow after God !"

The next day^ he went forward on his journey; crossed the Hudson, and went to Goshen in the Highlands; and so travelled across the woods, from the Hudson to the Delaware, about a hundred miles, through a desolate and hideous country, above New Jersey; where were very few settlements: in which journey he sufiered much fatigue and hardship. He visited some Indians in the way, and discoursed with them concerning Christianity: Was considerably melancholy and disconsolate, being alone in a strange wilderness. On Saturday^ he came to a settlement of Irish and Dutch people, about twelve miles above the Forks of Delaware.

Lord^s day^ May 13. " Rose early; felt very poorly after my lonff journey, and after being wet and fatigued. Was very melancnoly; have scarcely 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 afiairs dark and discouraging. Was disappointed respecting an interpreter^ and heard that the Indians were much scattered. O I mourned after the presence of God, and seemed like a creature banished from his sight! yet he was pleased to support my sinkmg soul, amidst all my sorrows ; so that I never entertained any thought of quitting my business among the poor Indians; but was comforted, to think, that death would ere long set me free from these distresses. Rode about three or four miles to the Irish people, where I found some that appeared sober and concerned about religion. My

* A place in NewYork govermnent, near Ihc Hudson, on the east side of the river.

heart then began to be a Uttle encouraged: went and preachedf first to the Irish, and then to the Indians: and in the evening, was a httle comforted; my soul seemed to rest on Gody and take courage. Oh that the Lord would be my support and comforter in an evil world !

May 14. Was very busy in some necessary studies. Felt myself very loose from all the world; all appeared ** vanity and vexation of spirit.^^ Seemed lonesome and disconsolate, as if I were banished from all mankind, and bereaved of all that is called pleasurable in the world; but appeared to myself so vile and unworthy, it seemed fitter for me to be here than any where.

May 15. '-'- Still much engaged in my studies; and enjoyed m<Mre health, than I have for some time past: but was some'' what dejected in spirit with a sense of my meanness; seemed as if I could never do any thing at all to* any good purpose, by reason of ignorance and folly. Oh that a sense of these things might work more habitual humility iu my soul I^^

He continued much in the same frame the next day.

May 17. ^^ Was this day greatly distressed with a sense of my vileness; appeared to myself too bad to walk on God's earth, or to be treated with kindness by any of his creatures. God was pleased to let me see my inward pollution and corruption, to such a desree, that I almost despaired of being more holy: ^^-Owretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death ?" In the afternoon, met with the Indians, according to appointment, and preached to them. And while riding to them, my soul seemed to confide in God; and afterwards nad some relief and enlargement of soul in prayer, and some assistance in the duty of intercession ; vital piety and holiness appeared sweet to me, and I longed for the perfection of it.

May 18. "Felt again somewhat of the sweet spirit of religion ; and my soul seemed to confide in God, that he would never leave me. But oftentimes saw myself so mean a crea* lure, that I knew not how to think of preaching. Oh that I could always live fo, and upon God !

May 19. " Was, some part of the time, greatly oppressed with the weight and burden of my work; it seemed impossible for me ever to go through with the business I had undertaken. Towards night was very calm and comfortable; and I think, my soul trusted in God for help.

Lord's day^ May 20. " Preached twice to the poor Indians; and enjoyed some freedom in speaking, while I attempted to remove their prejudices against Christianity. My soul longed for assistance from above, all the while; for I saw 1 had no

strength sufficient for that work. Aflerwards, preached to the Irish people; was much assisted in the first prayer, and somewhat in the sermon. Several persons seemed much concern* ed for their souls, with whom I discoursed afterwards with much fireedom and some power. Blessed be God for any assistance afforded to an unworthy worm. Oh that I could live to him P"^

Through the remainder of this week^ he was sometimes ready to sink with a sense of his unworthiness and unfitness for the i¥ork of the ministry; and sometimes encouraged and lifted above his fears and sorrows, and was enabled confidently to rely on God ; and especially on Saturday, towards night, he enjoyed calmness and composure, and assistance in prayer to Grod. He rejoiced, ^^ that God remains unchangeably power«^ fill and faithful, a sure and sufiScient portion, and the dwelling place of bis children in all generations.^^

Lord^s day^ May 27. ^^ Visited my Indians, in the morning, and attended upon a funeral among them; was^ affected to see their Heathenish practices. Oh that they might be ^^ turned from darkness to light !^^ Afterwards got a considerable number of them together, and preached to them; and observed thein very attentive. After this, preached to the white |>eople from Heb. ii. 3. How shall we escape if we neglect^ 4^. Was enabled to speak with some freedom and power : several peo-

Ele seemed much concerned for their souls; especially one who ad been educated a Roman Catholic. Blessed be the Lord for any help.

May 28. " Set out from the Indians above the Forks of the Delaware, on a journey towards Newark in New Jersey, according to my orders. Rode through the wilderness; was much fatigued with the heat; lodged at a place called Black River : was exceedingly tired and worn out."

On Tuesday he came to Newark. The next day went to Elizabethtown. On Thursday he w< nt to New York, and on Friday returned to Elizabethtown. These days were spent in some perplexity of mind. He continued at Elizabethtown till Friday in the week following. Was enlivened, refreshed, and strengthened on the Sabbath at the Lord's table. The ensuing days of the week were spent chiefly in studies preparatory to his ordination; and on some of them he seemed to have much of God's gracious presence, and of the sweet influences of his Spirit; but was in a very weak state of body. On Saturday he rode to Newark.

hordes day^ June 10. " [At Newark] in the morning was much concerned how I should perform the work of the ^ day : and trembled at the thoughts of being left to myself. Enjoyed

very considerable assistance in all parts of the public service^ Had an opportunity again to attend on the ordinance of the Lord^s supper, and through divine goodness was refreshed m it: my soul was full of love and tenderness towards the children of God, and towards all men; felt a certain sweetness of disposition towards every creature. At night, I enjoyed more spirituality and sweet desire of holiness, than I have felt for some time: was afraid of every thought and every motion, lest thereby my heart should be drawn away from God. Oh that I might never leave the blessed God ! ^^ Lord, in thy presence is fulmess of joy." O the blessedness of living to Goal

June 11. " This day the Presbytery met together at Newark, in order to my ordination. Was very weak and disordered in body; yet endeavoured to repose my confidence in God. Spent most of the day alone; especially the forenoon. At three in the afternoon preached my probation sermon, froih Acts xzvi. 17, 18. Delivering thee from the people^ and from the Gen^ tilesj 4*^. being a text given me for that end. Felt not well either in body or mind; however, God carried me through comfortably. Afterwards, passed an examination before tke Presbytery. Was much tired, and my mind burdened with the greatness of that charge 1 was in the most solemn manner about to take upon me; my mind was so pressed with the weight of the work incumbent upon me, that I eould not sleep this night, though very weary and in great need of rest

June 12. ^^ Was this morning frirther examined, respecting my experimented acquaintance with Christianity.* At ten o'clock my ordination was attended; the sermon preached by the Rev. Mr. Pemberton. At this time I was affected with a sense of the important trust committed to me; yet was composed, and solemn, without distraction; and I hope that then, as many times before, I gave myself up to God, to be for Awn, and not for another. O that I might always be engaged in the service of God, and duly remember the solemn charge I have received, in the presence of God, angels, and men. Amen. May I be assisted of God for this purpose.—Towards night, rode to Elizabethtown.''

* Mr Pemberton in a letter to the honourable society in Scotland, published in the Christian Monthly History^ writes thus, '• We can with pleasure say, that Mr. Brainerd passed through his ordination trial, to the universal approbation of the Presbytery,, and appeared uncommonly qualified for the work of the ministry. He seems to be armed with a great deal of self-denial, and animated with a noble zeal to propagate the °:ospel among those barbarous natioQd, who haye long dwelt in the darkness of Heathenism."

CHAPTER VI.

From his Ordination^ to the commencement of his Labours at

Crosweeksung,

Jtme.13. [1744.] " Spent some considerable time in writing an account of the Indian affairs to go to Scotland ; some, in conversation with friends; but enjoyed not much sweetnefls aBd satisfaction.

June 14 " Received some particular kindness from friends; and wondered, that God should open the hearts of any to treat me with kindness: saw myself to be unworthy of any favour from God, or any of my fellow-men. Was much exercised with pain in my head ; however, I determined to set out on my journey towards the Delaware in the afternoon ; but when the .afternoon came, my pain increased exceedingly ; so that I was obliged to betake myself to bed. The night following, I was greatly distressed with pain and sickness; was sometimes almost bereaved of the exercise of reason by the extremity of pain. Continued much distressed till Saturday^ when I was somewhat relieved by an emetic: but was unable to walk abroad till the Monday following, in the afternoon; and still remained very feeble. I often admired the goodness of God, that he did not suffer me to proceed on my journey from this place where I was so tenderly used, and to be sick by the way among strangers. God is very gracious to me, both in health and sickness, and intermingles much mercy with all my aiflic-ticMis and toils. Enjoyed some sweetness in. things divine, in the midst of my pain and \Teakness. Oh that I could praise the Lord.

- On Tuesday^ June 19—he set out on his journey home, and in three days reached his residence, near the Forks of Delaware. Performed the journey under much weakness of body ; but had comfort in his soul, from day to day: and both his weakness of body, and consolation of mind, continued through the week.

Lard^s day^ Juiie 24. " Extremely feeble; scarcely able to walk; however, visited my Indians, and took much pains to in-

struct them; laboured with some that were much disaffected to^ Christianity. My mind was much burdened with the weight an<S difficulty of my work. My whole dependence and hope of success seemed to be on God: who alone I saw could make them willing to receive instruction. My heart was much engaged in prayer, sending up silent requests to God, even while I wai speaking to them. Oh that 1 could always go in the strength iH the Lord I

June 25. ^^ Was somewhat better in health than of late; and was able to spend a considerable part of the day in prayer and close study. Had more freedom and fervency m prayer than usual of late; especially longed for the presence of God in my work, and that the poor Heathen might be converted. And in evening prayer, my faith and hope in God were much raised. To an eye of reason^ every thing that respects the conversion of the Heathen^ is as dark as midnight ; and yet I cannot but hope in God for the accomplishment of something glorious among them. My soul longed much for the advancement of the Redeemer's kmgdom on earth. Was very fearful lest I diould admit some vain thought, and so lose the sense I then had of divine things. Oh for an abiding heavenly temper!

June 26. '^ In the mornmg, my desires seemed to rise, and ascend up freely to God. Was busy most of the day in translating prayers into the language of the Delaware Indians ; met with great difficulty, because my interpreter was altogether unacquainted with the business. But though I was much discouraged with the extreme difficulty of tJbat work, yet God supported me; and especially in the evening, gave me sweet refreshment. In prayer, my soul was enlarged, and my faith drawn into sensible exercise; was enabled to cry to God for my poor Indians ; and though the work of their converson appeared impossible with man^ yet, with God^ I saw aU things were possible. My faith was much strengthened, by observing the wonderful assistance God affi>rded his servants Nehemiah and Ezra, in reforming his people, and re-establishing his ancient church. I was much assisted in prayer for my dear Christian friends, and for others whom I apprehended to be Christ-less ; but was more especially concerned for the poor Heathen, and those of my own charge; was enabled to be instant in prayer for them; and hopeful that God would bow the heavens and come down for their salvation. It seemed to me, that there could be no impediment sufficient to obstruct that glorious work, seeing the living God, as I strongly hoped, was engaged for it. I continued in a solemn frame, lifting up my heart to God for assistance and grace, that I might oe more mortified to this present world, that my whole soul might be taken up continually in concern for the advancement of Christ's kingdom. Earnestly desired that God would purge me more.

niore, that I might be as a chosen vessel to bear his naiue among the Heathens. Continued in this frame till I fell asleep.

June 27. ^^ Felt something of the same solemn concern, and spirit of prayer, which I enjoyed last night, soon after I rose in t&e noKmimg. In the afternoon, rode several miles to see if I could procure any lands for the poor Indians, that they might live together, and be under better advantages for instruction.— While I was riding, had a deep sense of the greatness and diffi-cidhr 6f my work ; and my soul seemed to rely wholly upon God for success, in the diligent and faithful use of means. Saw, with the greatest certainty, that the arm of the Lord must be fweoled, for the help of these poor Heathen, if ever they were delivered from the bondage of the powers of darkness. Spent most of the time, while riding, in lifting up my hea^t for grace and assistance. ^

June^. ^^ Spent the morning in reading several parts of the h(dy scripture, and in fervent prayer for my Indians, that God ^^ould set up his kingdom among them, and bring them into his ^urch* About nine, I withdrew to my usual place of retire-5^i^t in the woods ; and there again enjoyed some assistance in |Nrayen My ffreat concern was for the conversion of the Seathen to God; and the Lord helped me to plead with him for it Towards noon, rode up to the Indians, in order to preach to them ; and, while going, my heart went up to God in prayer for them; could freely tell God, he knew that the cause m which I was engaged was not mine; but that it was his own cause, and that it would be for his own glory to convert the poor Indians : and blessed be God, I felt no desire of their conversion, that I might receive honour from the world, as beii^ the instrument of it. Had some freedom in speaking to the Jjidians.^^

The next day, he speaks of some serious concern for the kingdom of the blessed Redeemer; but complains much of barrenness, wanderings, inactivity, &lc,

June 30. '^ My soul was very solemn in reading God^s word; especially the ninth chapter of Daniel. I saw how God had Called out his servants to prayer, and made them wrestle with him, when he design^ to bestow any great mercy on his church. And) alas I I was ashamed of myself, to think of my dulness %nd inactivi^,when there seemed to be so much to do for the up-Hnfldnig of Zion. O how does Zion lie waste! I longed, that the church of God might be enlarged: was enabled to pray, I think, in ^&tth; my soul seemed sensibly to confide in God, and was enabled "•lo wrestle with him. Afterwards, walked abroad to a place f

Vol. X. IP

. •

sweet retirement, enjoyed some assistance in prayer, had a sense of my great need of divine help, and felt my soul sensibly depend on God. Blessed be God, this has been a com-fortable week to me.

liord^s day^ July 1. ^^ In the morning, was perplexed with wandering vain thoughts; was much grieved, iudged and condemned myself before God. O how miserable did I feel, because I could not live to God! At ten, rode away with a heavy heart, to preach to my Indians. Upon the road I attempted to lift up my heart to God; but was infested with an unsettled wandering frame of mind; and was exceeding restless and perplexed, and filled with shame and confusion before God. I seemed to myself to be ^^ more brutish than any man ;^^ and thought, none deserved to be " cast out of God^s presence^^ so much as 1. If I attempted to lift up my heart to God, as I frequently did by the way, on a sudden, before I was aware, my thoughts were wandering ^' to the ends of the earth ;^^ and mv soul was filled with surprise and anxiety, to find it thus. Thus also, after I came to the Indians, my mind wad-confused; and I felt nothing sensibly of that sweet veliance on God, with which my soul has been comforted in days past. Spent the forenoon in this posture of mind, and preached to the Indians \^ ithout any heart. In the afternoon I felt still barren, when I began to preach ; andfor about half an hour, I seemed to myself to know nothing, and to have nothm^ to say to the Indians ; but soon after, I found in myself a spirit of love, and warmth, and power, to address the poor Indians; and God helped me to plead with them, to ^^ turn from all the vanities of the Heathen, to the living God.^^ I am persuaded that the Lord touched their consciences; for I never saw such attention raised in theiu. When I came away from them, I spent the whole time while I was riding to my lodgings, three miles distant, in prayer and prtise to God. After I had rode more than two miles, it came into my mind to dedicate myself to God again; which I did with great solemnity, and unspeakable satisfaction; especially gave up myself to him renewedly in the work of the ministry. This I did by divine grace, I hope, without any exception or reserve; not in the least shrinking back from any difficulties that might attend this great and blessed work. I seemed to be most free, cheerful, and full in this dedication of myselfl My whole soul cried " Lord, to thee I dedicate myself! O accept of me, and let me be thine forever. 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 ecarth that I desire beside ^Aee." After this was enabled to praise G<xl 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 mmfonary; rejoiced in my ne-

cessity of self-denial in many respccls; and still continued to give up myself to God, and implore mercy of him, praying incessantly, every moment with sweet fervency. My nature being very weak of late, and much spent, was now considerably overcome: my fingers grew very feeble, and somewhat numb, so that I could scarcely stretch them out straight; and when I lighted from my horse, could hardly walk; my joints seemed all to be loosed. But I felt abundant strength in the inner man. Preached to the white people : God helped me much, especially in prayer. Sundry of my poor Indians were so moved as to come to meeting also ; and one appeared much concerned.

Julv 2. " Had some relish of the divine comforts of yesterday ; but could not get that warmth and exercise of faith, which I desired. Had sometimes a distressing sense of my past follies, and present ignorance and barrenness: and especially in the afternoon, was sunk down under a load of sin and guilt, in that I had lived so little to God, after his abundant goodness to me yesterday. In the evening, though very weak, was enabled to pray with fervency, and to coiftinue instant in prayer, near an hour. My soul mourned over the power of its corruption, and longed exceedingly to be washed and purged as with ^ssop. Was enabled to pray for my dear absent friends, dhrist^s ministers, and his church; and enjoyed much freedom and fervency, but not so much comfort, by reason of guilt and shame before God. Judged and condemned myself for the follies of the day.

Jvly 3. ^ Was still very weak. This morning, was cnablc<l to pray under a feeling sense of my need of help from God, and, I trust, had some faith in exercise; and blessed oe God, was enabled to plead with him a considerable time. Truly God is ^ood to me. But my soul mourned, and was grieved at my sinfiilness and barrenness, and longed to be -nore engaged for God. Near nine, withdrew again for prayer i and through divine goodness, had the blessed spirit of prayer; my soulloved the mity, and longed for God in it. O it is sweet to be the hordes J to be sensibly devoted to him! What a blessed portion is God! How glorious, how lovely in himself! O my

soul longed to improve time wholly for God ! Spent most

of the day in translating prayers into Indian.—In the evening, was enabled again to wrestle with God in prayer with fervency. Was enabled to maintain a self-diffident and watchful frame of spirit, in the evening, and was jealous and afraid lest I should admit carelessness and self-confidence.'^

The next day^ he seems to have had special assistance and fervency most of the day, but in a less degree than in the preceding day. Tuesday was s]>ent in great bodily weakness; yet seems to have been spent in continual di^ifress and grcnt

bitterness of spirit, iu consequence of his vileness and corruption. He says, '' I thought that there was not one creature living so vile as I. O my inward pollution! O my guilt and shame before God I I know not what to do. O I longed ardently to be' cleansed and washed from the stains of inward pollution; O, to be made like God, or rather to be made fit for God to own !"

July 6. ^^ Awoke this morning in the fear of God: soon called to mind my sadness in the evening past; and spent mjr fint waking minutes in prayer for sanctification, that my soul mw be wa^ed from its exceeding pollution and defilement. After 1 arose, I spent some time in reading God^s word, and in prayw. I cried to God under a sense of my ^eat indigence. I anif 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 df this world; but of late all my concern almost is, for the conversion of the Heathen; and for that end I long to live. But blessed be God, I have less desire to live for any of the plear sures of the world, than I «ver had. I long and love to oe a pilgrim; and want grace to imitate the life, labours, and suflfer-mgs of St. Paul among the Heathen. And when I long fior hcHiness now, it is not so much for myself as formerly; but rather that thereby I may become an ^^ able minister of the New Testament,^^ especially to the Heathen. Spent about two hours this morning in reading and prayer by turns; and was in a watchful tender frame, afraid of every thing that might cool my affections, and draw away my heart from God. Was a little strengthened in my studies; but near night was very weak and weary.

July 7. " Was very much disordered this morning, and my vigour all spent and exhausted: but was affected and refreshed in reading the sweet story of Elijah^s translation, and enjoyed some affection and fervency in prayer: longed much for ministerial gifts and graces, that I might do something in the cause of God. Afterwards was refreshed and invigorated, while reading Alleine^s first Case of Conscience^ &c. and enabled then to pray with some ardour of soul, and was afraid of carelessness and self-confidence, and longed for holiness.

Lord^s day^ July 8. " Was ill last night, not able to rest quietly. Had some small degree of assistance in preaching to the Indians; and afterwards was enabled to preach to the white people with some power, especially in the close of my discourse^ from Jer. iii. 23. Truly in vain is salvation hoped for from tho hillsy &c. The Lord also assisted me in some measure in the first prayer; blessed be his name. Near night, though venr weary, was enabled to read God's word with some sweet relisiY^

of it, and to pray with affection, fervency, and I trust with faith: my soul was more sensibly dependent on God than usuaL Was watchful, tender, and jealous of my own heart, lest I should admit carelessness and vain thoughts, and grieve the blessed Spirit, so that he should withdraw his sweety kind, and leiider influences. Longed to ^^ depart, and be with Christ,^' more than at any time of late. My soul was exceedingly united to the saints of ancient times, as well as those now living; especially my soul melted for the society of Elijah and Elisha. Was enabled to cry to God with a child-like spi* cit, and to continue instant in prayer for some time. Was much enlarged in the sweet duty of intercession; was enabled totemember ^at numbers of dear firiends, and precious souls, ai well 80 Chnst^s ministers. Continued, in this frame, afraid of every idle thought, till I dropped asleep.

July 9. ^^ Was under much illness of body most of the day; and not able to sit up the whole day. Towards night felt a little better. Then spent some time in reading Gcd^s word and prayer; enjoyed some degree of fervency and affection ; was enabled to plead with God for his cause and kingdom: and, through divine goodness, it was apparent to me, that it waa his cause I pleadra for, and not my own ; and was enabled to make this an argument with God to answer my requests.

July 10. ^^ Was very ill and full of pain, and very dull and

spiritless. In the evening, had an affecting sense of my

Ignorance, and of my need of God at all times to do every thing for me; and my soul was humbled before God.

July 11. ^^ Was still exercised with illness and pain. Had some degree of affection and warmth in prayer and reading God^fl word; longed for Abraham^s faith and fellowship with God; and felt some resolution to spend all my time for Grod, and to exert myself with more fervency in his service; but found my body weak and feeble. In the afternoon, though very ill, was enabled to spend'some considerable time in prayer; sp^t, indeed, most of the day in that exercise : and my soul was dif* fident, watchful, and tender, lest I should offend my blessed Friend, in thought or behaviour. I am persuaded that my soul confided in, and leaned upon the blessed God. O, what need did I see myself to stand in of God at all times, to assist me and

lead me! Found a great want of strength and vigour, both

in the outward and inner man.^^

The exercises and experiences of which he speaks in the next Tme day8^ are very similar to those of the preceding days of this and the foregoing week; a sense of his own weakness, ignorance, improfitableness, and vileness ; loathing and abhorring himself; self-diffidence; sense of the greatness of his work, of his great •loed of divine help*^ and the extreme danger of self-confidence -.

longing for holiness and humility, to be fitted for his work, and to live to God, and for the conversion of the Indians; and these things to a very great degree.

July 21. '^ This morning, I was greatly oppressed with ^ilt and shame, from a sense of inward vileness and pollution. About nine, withdrew to the woods for prayer; but had not much comfort; I appeared to myself the vilest, meanest creature upon earth, and could scarcely live with myself; so mean and vile I appeared that I thought I should never be able to hold up my face in heaven, if God of his infinite grace should bring me thither. Towards night my burden respecting my work among the Indians began to increase much; and was aggravated by hearing sundry things, which looked very discouraging ; in particular, that they mtended to meet tosether the next day for an idolatrous feast and dance. Then i began Jo be in anguish : I thought that I must in conscience go and endeavour to break them up ; yet knew not how to attempt such a thing. However, I withdrew for prayer, hoping for strength from above. In prayer 1 was exceedingly enlarged, and my soul was as much drawn out as I ever remember it to have been in my life. I was in such anguish, and pleaded with so much earnestness and importunity, that when I rose from my knees I felt extremely weak and overcome; I could scarce walk straight; my joints were loosed ; the sweat ran down my face and body; and nature seemed as if it would dissolve. So far as I could judge, I was wholly free from selfish ends in my fervent sap-plications for the poor Indians. I knew that they were ipet together to worship devils, and not God : and this made me cry earnestly, that God would now appear, and help me in my attempts to break up this idolatrous meeting. My soul pleaded long ; and I thought that God would hear, and would go with me to vindicate his own cause ; I seemed to confide in God for his presence and assistance. And thus I spent the evening, prating incessantly for divine assistance, and that I might not he self-dependent, but still have my whole dependence upon God. What I passed through was remarkable, and indeed inexpressible. All things here below vanished; and there appeared to be nothing of any considerable importance to me, but holiness of heart and life and the conversion of the Heathen to God. All my cares, fears, and desires, which might be said to be of a worldly nature, disappeared; and were, in my esteem, of little more importance than a puff of wind. I exceedingly longed that God would get to himself a name among the Heathen ; and I appealed to him with the greatest freedom, that he knew I " preferred him above my chief joy." Indeed, I had no notion of joy from this world; I cared not where or how 1 lived, or what hardships I went through, so that I could but gain souls

o Christ I continued in this frame all the evening and night. iVhile I was asleep, I dreamed of these things ; and when I iraked, (as I frequently did,) the first thing I thought of was his great w^ork of pleading for God against Satan.

hordes day^ July 22. ^^ When I waked, my soul was burdened vith what seemed to be before me. I cried to God, before I 20u]d get out of my bed ; and as soon as I was dressed, I with-irew into the woods, to pour out my burdened soul to God, especially for assistance in my great work; for I could scarcely thmk of any thing else. I enjoyed the same freedom and fer-irency as the last evening; and did with unspeakable freedom g;ive up myself afresh to God, for life or deatn, for all hardships bie 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. While I was riding to the Indians—three miles, my heart was continually going up to God for his presence and assistance ; and hoping, and almost expecting, that God would make this the day of his power and grace amongst the poor Indians. When I came to them, I found them engaged in their frolic; but through divine goodness I persuaded them to desist and attend to my preaching: yet still there appeared nothing of the special power of God among them. Preached again to them in the afternoon, and observed the Indians were more sober than before ; but still saw nothing special among them. Hence Satan took occasion to tempt and buffet me with these cursed suggestions, There is no God, or if there be, he is not able to convert the Indians, before they have more knowledge, &c. I was very weak and weary, and my soul borne down with perplexity ; but was mortified to all the world, and was determined still to wait upon God for the conversion of the Heathen, though the devil tempted me to the contrary.

JtUff 23. " Retained still a deep and pressing sense of what lay with so much weight upon me yesterday; but was more cdm and quiet. Enjoyed freedom and composure, after the temptations of the last evening; had sweet resignation to the divine will; and desired nothing so much as the conversion of the Heathen to God, and that his kingdom might come in my OWH heart, and the heart of others. Rode to a settlement of Irish people, about fifteen miles south-westward; spent my time m prayer and meditation by the way. Near night, preached from Matt. v. 3. Blessed are the poor in spirit^ ^.— God was pleased to afford me some degree of freedom and fervency. Blessed be God for any measure of assistance.

July 24. " Rode about seventeen miles westward, over a hideous mountain, to a number of Indians. Got together near thnrty of them: preached to them in the evening, and lodged

among them.—Was weak, and felt in some degree disconsolate ; yet could have no freedom in the thought of any other circumstances or business in life. All my desire was the conversion of the Heathen; and all my hope was in God. God does not suffer me to please or comfort myself with hopes of seeing friends, returning to my dear acquaintance, and enjoy* ing worldly comforts/^

The next day^ he preached to these Indians again; and dien returned to the Ihsh settlement, and there preached to a na* merous congregation. There was a considerable appearance of awakening in the congreeation. Thursday he returned home, exceedmgly fatigued and spent; still in the same frame of mortification to the world, and solicitous for the advancement of Christ^s kingdom. On this day he writes thus: ^ I have felt this week, more of the spirit of a pilgrm on earthy than perhaps ever before; and yet so desirous to see ZionV prosperity, that I was not so willing to leave this scene of sorrows as I used to be.^^—The two remaining days of the week, he was very ill, and complains of wanderings, dulness, and want of spiritual fervency and sweetness. On the S^Bbbatb, be was confined by illness, not able to go out to preach. After this, his ilfaiess increased upon him, and he continued very BI all the week ; and says, that ^^ he thought he never before endured such a season of distressing weakness; that his nature was so spent, that he could neither stand, sit, nor lie with any quiet; that he was exercised with extreme fkintness and sickness at his stomach ; that his mind was as much disordered as his body, seeming to be stupid, and without any kind of affections towards all objects, and yet perplexed, to think that he lived for nothing; that precious time rolled away and he could do nothing but trifle: and that it was a season wherein SaHanr buffeted him with some peculiar temptations. On Tuesday of this week he wrote the following letter to an intimate and dear friend. It indicates affections in no ordinary degree chastened and spiritual.

•• Forks of Delaware^ July 31,1744k

''-——Certainly the greatest, the noblest pleasure of mtelli-

Sent creatures must result from their acquaintance with the lessed God, and with their own rational and inmiortal souls. O, how divinely sweet and entertaining is it, to look into our own souls, when we can find all our powers and passions united and engaged in pursuit after God; our whole souls lonmig and passionately breathing after a conformity to him, and the full enjoyment of him! Verily no hours pass away with so much divine pleasure, as those which are spent in communing

^VIth God and our own hearts. O, how sweet is a spirit of devotion, a spirit of seriousness and divine solemnity, a spirit of gospel simplicity, love and tenderness ! O, how desirable, and how profitable to the christian life, is a spirit of holy watchfulness, and godl^ jealousy over ourselves; when our souls are afraid of nothing so much as that we shall grieve and offend the blessed God, whom at such times we apprehend, or at least hope, to be a Father and Friend; whom we then love and long to please^ rather than to be happy ourselves; or at least we delight to derive our happiness/rom pleasing and glorifying him I Surely this is a pious temper, worthy of the highest ambition and closest pursuit of intelligent creatures and holy Christians. O, how vastly superior are the pleasure, peace, and satisfaction derived from these divine frames, to that which we, alas! sometimes pursue in things impertinent and trifling I Our own bitter experience teaches us, that ^' in the midst of such laughter the heart is sorrowful,^^ and there is no true satisfaction but in God. But, alas ! how shall we obtain and retain this sweet spirit of religion and devotion ? Let us follow the apostle^s direction, Phil. ii. 12. and labour upon the encouragement which he there mentions, ver. 13. for it is God only can afford us this favour; and he will be sought to^ and it is fit we should wait upon him for so rich a mercy. O, may the God of all grace afford us the grace and influences of * his divine Spirit; and help us that we may from oiir hearts esteem it our greatest liberty and happiness, that ^^ whether we live, we may live to the Lord, or whether we die, we may die to the Lord f ^ that in life and deaths we may be his /

" I am in a very poor state of health; I think, scarce ever poorer: buf, through divine goodness, I am not discontented under my weakness, and confinement to this wilderness. I bless Grod for this retirement; I never was more thankful for any thing, than I have been of late for the necessity I am under of selMenial in many respects. I love to be a pilgrim and stranger in this wilderness; it seems most fit for such a poor, ignorant, worthless, despised creature as I. I would not change my present mission for any other business in the whole world. I may tell you fi'eely, without vanity and ostentation, God has of late given me great freedom and fervency in prayer, when I have been so weeuc and feeble that my nature seemed as if it ivould speedily dissolve. I feel as if my all was lost, and I was undone for this world, if the poor Heathen may not be converted. I feel, in general, different from what I did, when I saw you last; at least more crucijied to all the enjoyments of life. It would be very refreshing to me to see you here in this desert; especially in my weak disconsolate hours; but, I think, I could be content never to see vou, or any of mv friends again in this Vol. X. ^ " 20

world, it' God would bless my labours here to the coiivertfiuu ol' the poor Indians.

'^1 have much that I could willingly communicate to you. which I must omit till Providence gives us leave to see each other. In the mean-time, I rest

" Your obliged friend and servant,

" David Brainerd. ''

Concerning the next Jive days he writes thus: " Lard'*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. Indeed, the Lord gave me some freedom and fervency in addressing them; though 1 had not strength enough to stand, but was obliged to sit down the whole time. Towards night, was extremely weak, faint, sick, and fiiU of pain. I have continued much m the same state I was in last week, through most of this, (it being now Friday,) unable to engage in any business; frequently unable to pray in the family. I am obliged to let all my thoughts and concerns run at random; for I have not strength to read, meditate, or pray: and this naturally perplexes my mind. I seiem to myself like a man that has all his estate embarked in one small boat, un* happily going adrift, down a swil't torrent. The poor owner

stands on the shore, and looks, and laments his loss ^But,

alas! though my all seems to be adrift, and I stand and see it, 1 dare not lament; for this sinks my spirits more, and aggravates my bodily disorders! I am forced therefore to divert myself with trifles; although at the same time I am afraid, and oflen feel as if I was guilty of the misimprovement of time. And oftentimes my conscience is so exercised, with this miserable way of spending time, that I have no peace ; though I have no strength of mind or body to improve it to better purpose. O that God would pity my distressed state !"

The next three weeks^ his illness was less severe; and he was in some degree capable of business, both public and private ; though ho had some turns wherein his indisposition prevailed to a great degree. He had generally also much more inward assistance, and strength of mind. He often expresses great longings for the enlargement of Christ's kingdom, especially by the conversion of the heathen to God ; and speaks of this hope as all his delight and joy. He continues still to express his usual desires auer holiness, living to God, and a sen^ of his own unworthiness. He several times speaks of his appearing to himself the vilest creature on earth ; and once saySi that he verily thought there were none of God's children, who fell so far short of that holiness, and perfection in their obedience, which God requires, as he. He speaks of his feeling more dead than ever to the enjoyment? of the world. He

sometimes mentions the special .ifssistance which he had af this time, in preaching to the Indians, and the appearances of religious concern among them. He specd^s also of assistance in prayer for absent friends, and especially ministers and can-fiidates for the ministry ; and of much comfort which he enjoyed in the company of some ministers who came to visit him.

SqfU 1. ^^ Was so far strengthened, after a season of great 'weakness, that I was able to spend two or three hours in ivriting on a divine subject. Enjoyed some comfort and sweetness in things divine and sacred; and as my bodily strength was in some measure restored, so my soul seemed to be somewhat vigorous, and engaged in the things of God.

Lord's day^ S^U 2. " Was enabled to speak to Aiy poor Indians with much concern and fervency ; and I am persuaded. that God enabled me to exercise faith in him, while I was speaking to them. I perceived that some of them were afraid to hearken to and embrace Christianity^ lest they should be enchanted and poisoned by some of the powaws : but I was enabled to plead with them not to fear these ; and, confiding in God for safety and deliverance, I bid a challenge to an these powers of darkness^ to do their worst on me first. I told my people that I was a Christian^ and asked them why the powaws did not bewitch and poison me. I scarcely ever felt more sensible of my own unworthiness, than in this action. I saw that the honour of God was concerned in the affair; and desired to be preserved—not from selfish views, but—^for a testimony of the divine power and goodness, and of the truth of Christianity, and that God might be glorified. Afterwards, I found my soul rejoice in God for his assisting grace.^^

After this, he went a journey into New-England, and was absent from the place of his abode, at the Forks of Delaware, about three weeks. He was in a feeble state the greater part of the time. But in the latter part of the journey, he found that he gained much in health and strength. As to the state of his mmd, and his religious and spiritual exercises, it was macfa with him as usual in his journeys ; excepting that tlie frame of his mind seemed more generally to be comfortable. Biat yet there are complaints of some uncomfortable seasons, want of fervency, and want of retirements, and time alone with God. In his journey, ho did not forget the Indians ; but once and again speaks of his longing for their conversion.

Sept. 26. " Rode home to the Forks of Delaware. What reason have I to bless God, who has preserved me in riding fflore than four hundred and twenty miles, and has " kept all

my bones, that not one of them has been broken !" My health likewise is greatly recovered. O that I could dedicate my all to God ! This is all the return 1 can make to him.

Sept. 27. " Was somewhat melancholy ; had not much freedom and comfort in prayer : my soul is disconsolate when God is withdrawn. «

Sept. 28. " Spent the day in jprayer, reading, and writing. Felt some small degree of warmth in prayer, and some desires of the enlargement of Christ's kingdom by the conversion of the Heathen, and that God would make me a " chosen vessel, to bear his name before them ;'^ longed for grace to enable me to be faithful."

The next daxj^ he speaks of the same earnest desires for the advancement of Christ's kingdom, and the conversion of the Indians ; but complains greatly of the ill effects of the diversions of his late journey, as unnxing his mind from that degree of engagedness, fervency, and watchfulness, which he enjoyed before. The like complaints are continued the day after.

Oct, 1. " Was engaged this day in making preparations for my intended journey to the Susquehannah. Withdrew several times to the woods for secret duties, and endeavoured to plead for the divine presence to eo with me to the poor Paeans, to ^vhom I was gomg to preach the gospel. Towards night rode about four miles, and met brother Byram ;* who was come, at my desire, to be my companion in travel to the Indians. I rejoiced to see him ; and, I trust, God made his conversation profitable to me. I saw him, as I thought more dead to the world, its anxious cares, and alluring objects, than I was: and this made me look within myself, and gave me a greater sense of my guilt, ingratitude, and misery.

Oct. 2. " Set out on my journey, in company with dear brother Byram, and my interpreter, and two chief Indians from die Forks of Delaware. Travelled about twenty five miles, and lodged in one of the last houses on our road ; afler which there was nothing but a hideous and howling wilderness.

Oct 3. "We went on our way into the wilderness, and found the most difHcult and dangerous travelling, by far, that ever any of us had seen. We had scarce any thing else but lofly mountains, deep valleys, and hideous rocks, to make our way througL However, I felt some sweetness in divine things, part of the day, and had my mind intensely engaged in meditation on a divine subject. Near night, my beast on which I rode, hung one o£

* Minister at a place called RotkHHnts, about forty miles from BRAlWER^'^fi lodging.

lier legs in the rocks, and fell down under me; but through divine soodness, 1 was not hurt. However, she broke her leg ; and being in such a hideous place, and near thirty miles from any house, I saw nothing that could be done to preserve her life, and so was obliged to kill her, and to prosecute my journey on foot. This accident made me admire the divine goodness to me, that my bones wef^e not broken, and the multitude of them filled with strong pain. Just at dark, we kindled a fire, cut up a few bushes, and made a shelter over our heads, to save us from the frost, which was very hard that night; and committing ourselves to God by prayer, we lay down on the ground, and slept quietly.^^

The next day, they went forward on their journey, and at 4Ciight took up their lodgings in the woods in like manner.

Oct, 5. "We reached the Susquehannah river, at a place called Opekolhaupung, 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. Alter some consultation, the Indians gathered, and I preached to them. And when I had done, I asked if they would hear me

Xin. They replied, that they would consider of it; and soon r sent me word, that they would immediately attend, if 1 would preach : which I did, with freedom, both times. When I asked them again, whether they would hear me further, they replied, they would the next day. I was exceeding sensible of the impossibility of doing any thing for the poor Heathen without special assistance from above ; and my soul seemed to rest on God, and leave it to him to do as he pleased in that which I saw was his own cause. Indeed, through divine goodness, I had felt somewhat of this frame most of the time while I was travelling thither, and in some measure before I set out.

Oct. 6. " Rose early and besought the Lord for help in my great work. Near noon, preached again to the Indians ;• and in the afternoon, visited them from house to house, and invited them to come and hear me again the next day, and put off their hunting design, which they were just entering upon, till Monday. " This night," I trust, " the Lord stood by me," to encourage and strengthen my soul: I spent more than an hour in secret retirement; was enabled to " pour out my heart before God,'' for the increase of grace in my soul, for ministerial endowments, for success among the poor Indians, for God's ministers and people, for distant dear friends, &c. Blessed be God:'

The next day^ he complains of great want of fixedness and intenseness in religion, so that he could not keep any spintual

thought one minute without distraction ; which occasioned anguish of spirit. He felt amazingly guilty^ and extremdy nUterable ; and cries out, ^^ O, my soul, what death it is, to have the affections unable to centre in God, by reason of darkness, and consequent roving after that satisfaction elsewhere, that is only to be found here!" However, he preached twice to the Indians with considerable freedom and power ; but was afterwards damped by the objections they made against ChristianUy. In the evening, m a sense of his great defects in preaching, he ** intreated God not to impute to him blood-guiltiness;" but yet was at the same time enabled to rejoice in God.

Oct. 8. " Visited the Indians with a design to take my leave of them, supposing they would this morning go out to hunting early; but beyoncTmy expectation and hope, they desired to hear me preach again. I gladly complied with their request, and afterwards endeavoured to answer their objections against Christianity. Then they went away ; and we spent the rest of the afternoon in reading and prayer, intending to go homeward very early the next day. My soul was in some measure refreshed in secret prayer and meditation. Blessed be the Lord for all his goodness.

Oct. 9. " We rose about four in the morning, and, commending ourselves to God by prayer, and ieisking his special protection, we set out on our journey homewards about five, and travelled with great steadiness till past six at night; and then made us a fire, and a shelter of barks, and so rested. I had some clear and comfortable thoughts on a divine subject, by the way, towards night. In the night, the wolves howled around us; but God preserved us.''

The next day^ they rose early, and set forward, and travelled that day till they came to an Irish settlement, with which Brainerd was acquainted, and lodged there. He speaks of some sweetness in divine things, and thankfulness to QoA .for his goodness to him in this journey, though attended with shame for his barrenness. On Thursday^ he continued in the same place; and both he and Mr. Byram preached there to the people.

Oct. 12. " Rode home to my lodgings; where I poured out my soul to God in secret prayer, and endeavoured to bless him for his abundant goodness to me in my late journey. I scarcely ever enjoyed more health, at least of later years; and God marvellously, and almost miraculously, supported me under the fatigues of the way, and travelling on foot. Blessed be the Lord, who continually preserves me in all my ways.''

On Saturday^ he went ogain to the Irish settlement, to spend the Sabbath there, his Indians being gone.

JLard^s day^ Oct. 14. '^ Was much confused and perplexed in m^ thoughts ; could not pray; and was almost discouraffed, thinking I should never be able to preach any more. AAer-wards, God was pleased to give me some relief from these confusions ; but still I was afraid, and even troubled before God, I went to the place of public worship, lifting up my heart to God for assistance and grace, in my great work: and God was gracious to me, helping me to plead with him for holiness, and to use the strongest arguments with him, drawn from the incarnation and sufferings of Christ for this very end, that men might be made holy. Afterwards, I was much assisted in preaching. I know not that ever God helped me to preach in a more close and distinguishing manner for the trial of men^s state. Through the infinite goodness of God, I felt what I spoke ; he enabled me to treat on divine truth with uncommon clearness; and yet I was so sensible of my defects in preach* ing, that I could not be proud of my performance, as at some times; and blessed be the Lord for this mercy. In the evening I longed to be entirely alone, to bless God for help in a time of extremity ; and longed for great degrees of holiness, that I might show my gratitude to God."

The next mommg^ he spent some time before sun-rise in prayer, in the same sweet and grateful frame of mind, that he hadf been in the evening before ; and, afterwards, went to his Indians, and spent some time in teaching and exhorting them.

Oct. 16. " Felt a spirit of solemnity and watchfulness; vvas afraid I should not live to and upon God : longed for more in* tenseness and spirituality. Spent the day in writing; frequently lifting up my heart to God for more heavenly mindedness. In the evening, enjoyed sweet assistance in prayer ; thirsted and pleaded to be as holy as the blessed angels ; longed for minis* terial gifts and graces, and success in my work; was sweetly assisted in the duty of intercession ; and enabled to remember and plead for numbers of dear friends, and of Christ's ministers."

He seemed to have much of the same frame of mind the two next days.

Oct. 19. " Felt an abasing sense of my own impurity and unholiness; and felt my soul melt and mourn, that I had abused and grieved a very gracious God, who was still kind to me, notwithstanding all my unworthiness. My soul enjoyed a sweet

lAO MEMOIRS OF BRAINERD.

Beason of bitter repentance and sorrow, that I had wronged that blessed God, who, I was persuaded, was reconciled to me in his dear Son. My soul was now tender, devout, and solemn. And I was afraid of nothing but sin ; and afraid of that in eveiy action and thought."

The fimr next days^ were manifestly spent in a most constant tenderness, watchfulness, diligence, and selfdiffidence. But he complains of wanderings of mind, languor of affections, &c.

Oct. 24. " Near noon, rode to my people; spent some time and prayed with them: felt the frame of a pilgrim on earth; longed much to leave this gloomy mansion; but yet found the exercise of patience and resignation. And, as I returned home from the Indians, spent the whole time in lifting up my heart to God. In the evening, enjoyed a blessed season alone in prayer; was enabled to cry to God with a child-like spirit, for the space of near an hour ; enjoyed a sweet freedom in supplicating for myself, for dear friends, ministers, and some who are preparing for that work, and for the church of God; and longed to be as lively myself in God^s service as the angels.

Oct. 25. " Was busy in writing. Was very sensible of my absolute dependence on God in all respects; saw that I could do nothing, even in those affairs for which i have sufficient natural faculties, unless God should smile upon my attempt. " Not that we are sufficient of ourselves, to think any thing, as of ourselves," I saw was a sacred truth.

Oct. 26. " In the morning, my soul was melted with a sense of divine goodness and mercy to such a vile unworthy worm. I delighted to lean upon God, and place my whole trust in him. My soul was exceedingly grieved for sin, and prized, and longed after holiness; it wounded my heart deeply, yet sweetly, to think how I had abused a kind God. I longed to be perfectly holy, that I might not grieve a gracious God ; who will continue to love, notwithstanding his love is abused ! I longed for holiness more for this end, than I did for my own happiness* sake: and yet this was my greatest happiness, never more to dishonour, but always to glorify the blessed God. Afterwards, rode up to the Indians, in the afternoon, i&c."

The four next days^ he was exercised with much disorder and pain of body, with a degree of melancholy and gloominess of mind, bitterly complaining of deadness and unprofitableness, yet mourning and longing after God.

Oct. 31. " Was sensible of my barrenness and decays in the things of God: my soul failed when I remembered the fervency which I had enjoyed at the throne of grace. O, I

M£M0IK5 OF BRAINERD. lljl

thought, if 1 could but be spiritual, warm, heavcii]y-iiiin(led,"and affectionately breathing after God, this would be better than life to me! My soul longed exceedingly for death, to be loosed firom this dulness and barrenness, and made for ever active in the service of God. . I seemed to live for nothing, and to do no ffood : and O, the burden of such a hfc ! O death, death, myIdnd friend, hasten, and deliver me from dull mortality, and make me spiritual and vigorous to eternity !

Nov. 1. " Had but little sweetness in divine things; but afterwards, in the evening, felt some life, and longings after Grod. 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.

Ncv. 2. " Was filled with sorrow and confusion in tlie morning, and could enjoy no sweet sense of divine things, nor

S9t any relief in prayer. Saw I deserved that every one of od^ creatures should be let loose, to be the executioners of his wrath against me; and yet therein saw I deserved what I did. not {ear as my portion. About noon, rode up to the Indians; and while going, could feel no desires for them, and even dreaded to say any thing to them ; but God was pleased to give me some freedom and enlargement, and made the season comfortable to me. In the evening, had enlargement in prayer. But, alas! what comforts and enlargements I have fiblt for these many weeks past have been only transient and short ; and the greater part of my time has been filled up with deadness, or struggles with deadness, and bitter conflicts with corruption. I have found myself exercised sorely with some particular things that I thought myself most of all freed from. And thus I have ever found it,—when I have thought the battle was over, and the conquest gained, and so let down my watch, the enemy has risen up and done me the greatest injury.

Nov. 3. " I read the life and trials of a godly man, and was much warmed by it: I wondered at my past deadness; and was more convinced of it than ever. Was enabled to confess and bewail my sin before God, with self-abhorrence.

Lord's day^ Nov. 4. " Had, I think, some exercise of faith in prayer, in the morning : longed to be spiritual. Had considerable help in preaching to my poor Indians: was encouraged with them, and hoped that God designed mercy for them.''

The next day, Nov. 5, he concluded the following letter to IUv..Mr. Pemberton, of New York, giving an account of his labours, and success, both at Kaunaumeek and at the Forks of Delaware.

TO THE REV. EBENEZER PEMBERTON.

'* Forks of Delaware^ Nov. 5, 1744. " Rev. SrR,

^' Since you are pleased to require of me some brief and general account of my conduct in the affair of my mission among the Indians; the pains and endeavours I have used Up propagate Christian knowledge among them ; the difficulties 1 have met with in pursuance of that sreat work; and the hope* ful and encouragmg appearances I have observed in any of them; I shall now endeavour to answer your demands, by giving a brief but faithful account of the most material tUngv relating to that important affair, with which I have bee^mnd am stiU concerned. This I shall do with more fireedoib and cheerfiilness, both because I apprehend it will be af lil^ely means to give pious persons, who are concerned for the kingdom of Christ, some just apprehension of the many and great difficulties that attend the propagation of it among the poor Pagans; and consequently, it is hoped, will engage their move frequent and fervent prayers to God, that those may be succeeded, who are employed m this arduous work. Besides, I per-^ suade myself, that the tidings of the gospel spreading among the poor Heathen, will be, to those who are waiting for the accomplishment of the " glorious things spoken of the eity of our God,'^ as ^' good news from a far country ;^^ and that mew will be so far from ^' despising the day of small things,^' that, oa the contrary, the least dawn of encouragement and hope, ia this important affair, will rather inspire their pious breast^ with more generous and warm desires, that ^^ the kingdoms of this world, may speedily become the kingdoms of our Lord, and of his Christ."—I shall therefore immediately proceed to the business before me, and briefly touch upon the most important matters that have concerned my mission, from the beginning to this present time.

" On March 15, 1743, I waited on the Correspondents for the Indian mission at New York; and the week following, attended their meeting at Woodbridge, in'New Jersey, and was speedily dismissed Inr them with orders to attempt the instruction of*^ a number of Indians in a place some miles distant from the city of Albany. And on the first day of April following, I arrived among the Indians, at a place called by them Kaunaumeek^ in the county of Albany, nearly twenty miles distant from the city eastward.

^^ The.place, as to its situation, was sufHciently lonesome and unpleasant, being encompassed with mountains and woods ; twenty miles distant from any English inhabitants; six or seven from any Dutch ; and more than two from a family that came some time since, from the Highlands of Scotland, and

had then lived, as I remember, about two years in this wilder ness. In this family I lodged about the space of three months. the master of it being the only person with whom I could readily converse in those parts, except my interpreter; others understanding very little English.

*^ After I had spent about three months in this situation, 1 found my distance from the Indians a very great disadvantage to my work among them, and very burdensome to myself; as I was obliged to travel forward and backward almost daily on foot, having no pasture in which I could keep my horse for that purpose. And after all my pains, could not be with the Indians in the evening and morning, which were usually the best hours to find them at home, and when they could best attend my instructions.—I therefore resolved to remove, and live with or near the Indians, that I might watch all opportunities, when they were generally at home, and take the advantage of such seasons for their instructions.

" Accordingly I removed soon after; and, for some time, lived with them in one of their wigwams ; and, not long after, buih me a small house, where I spent the remainder of that year entirely alone; my interpreter, who was an Indian, choos-j^ rather to live in a wigwam among his own countirmen.— This way of living I found attended with many difficulties. «uid uncomfortable circumstances, in a place where I could get none of the necessaries and common comforts of life, (no. not so much as a morsel of bread,) but what I brought from places fifteen and twenty miles distant, and oftentimes was obliged, for some time together, to content myself without, for want of an opportunity to procure the things I needed.

** But although the difficulties of this solitary way of living are not the least, or most inconsiderable, (and doubtless are, ia fact, many more and greater to those who experience^ than they ean readily appear to those who only view them at a distance,) yet I can truly say that the burden I felt respecting mjr greai work among the poor Indians, the fear and concern that continually hung upon my spirit, lest tliey should be prejudiced against Christianity, and their minds imbittered against me, and my labours among them by means of the insinuations of some who, although they are called Christians^ seem to have no concern for Christ^s kingdom, but had rather (as their conduct plainly discovers) that the Indians should remain Heathens, that they may with the more ease cheat, and so enrich themselves by them —^were much more pressing to me, than all the difficulties that attended the circumstances of my living.

** As to the state or temper of mind in which I found these Indians, at my first coming among them, I may justly say, it was much more desirable and encouraging, than what appears among those who are altogether unrnltivated. Their Heathen-

ish jealousies and suHpicioii, and tlieir prejudices againat Cliristiauily, were in. a great measure removed by the long-continued labours of the Reverend Mr. Sargeant Biaong a number of tlie same tribe, in a place little more than tweatf miles distant. Hence, tliese were, in some good degree, i»o-pared to entertain the truths of Christianity', inst^aMi of objecting against them, and appearing almost entirely untracta-ble, as is common with them at first, and as, perhaps, these appeared a few years ago. Some of them, at least, appeared very well disposed towards religion, and seemed much pleased. with my coming among them.

^^In my labours with tliem, in order to ^^tum them firom darkness to light,^^ I studied what was most plain and eoijf, and best suited to their capacities; and endeavoured to set before them from time to time, as they were able to receive them, the most important and necessary truths of Christianity; such as most immediately concerned their speedy conversion to God, and such as I judged had the greatest tendency, as means, to effect that glorious change in them. But especially I maide it the scope and drift of all my labours, to lead them into a thorough acquaintance with these two things.— Firsts The sm-fulness aiid misery of the estate they were naturally in; the evil of their hearts, the pollution of their natures ; the heavy guilt they were under, and their exposedness to everlasting punishment; as also their utter inability to save themselves, either from their sins, or from those miseries which are the just punishment of them; and their unworthiness of any mercy at the hand of God, on account of any thing they themselves could do to procure his favour, and consequently their extreme need of Christ to save them. And, secondly^ I frequently endeavoured to open to them the fulness^ all-sufficiency^ Bndfreene$9^ of that redemption^ which the Son of God has wrought out by his obedience and sufferings, for perishing sinners: how tbifi

Provision he had made, was suited to all their wants; and how e called and invited them to accept of everlasting life fireely, notwithstanding all their sinfulness, inability, unworthiness, &jo. " After I had been with the Indians several months, I composed sundry forms of prayer^ adapted to their circumstances and capacities; which, with the help of my interpreter, I translated into the Indian language; and soon learned to pronounce their words, so as to pray with them in their own tongue, I also translated sundry psalms into their language, and soon after we were able to sing in the worship of God.

" When my people had gained some acquaintance witli many of the truths of Christianity, so that they were capable of receiving and understanding many others, which at first could not be taught them, by reason of their ignorance of those that were necessary to be previously known, and upon

^^Kich Others depentled ; I then gave them an historical '^count of God's deahngs with his ancient professing people ^^ Jews; some of the rites and ceremonies they were obliged ^^ observe, as their sacrifices, &c.; and what these were deigned to represent to them: as also some of the suiprising ^^inracles God wrought for their salvation, while they trusted in liiiD, and sore punishments he sometimes brought upon them, when they forsook and sinned against him. Afterwards I proceeded to give them a relation of the birth, life, miracles, sufferings, death, and resurrection of Christ; as well as his ascension, and the wonderful effusion of the holy Spirit consequent thereupon.

** And having thus endeavoured to prepare the way by such a general account of things, I- next proceeded to read and expound to them the gospel of St. Matthew (at least the substance of it^ in course, wherein they had a more distinct and particular view of what they had before some general notion.— These expositions I attended almost every evenings when there was any considerable number of them at home; except when I was obliged to be absent myself, in order to learn the Indian

lan^age with the Rev. Mr. Sargeant. Besides these means

of mstruction, there was likewise an English scAooZ constantly kept by my interpreter among the Indians; which I used frequently to visit, in order to give the children and young people some proper instructions, and serious exhortations suited to their age.

The degree of knowledge to which some of them attained, was considerable. Many of the truths of Christianity seemed fixed in their minds, especially in some instances, so that they would speak to me of them, and ask such questions about them, as were necessary to render them more plain and clear to their understandings —The children, also, and young people, who attended the school^ made considerable proficiency (at least some of them) in their learning ; so that had they understood the English language well, they would have been able to read somewhat readily in a psalter.

^ But that which was most of all desirable, and gave me the greatest encouragement amidst many difficulties and disconso-uite hours, was, that the truths of God^s word seemed, at times, to be attended with some power upon the hearts and consciences of the Indians. And especially this appeared evident in a few instances, who were awakened to some sense of their miserable estate by nature, and appeared solicitous for deliverance firom it. Several of them came, of their own accord, to discourse with me about their souls' concerns ; and some, with tears, inquired " what they should do to be saved ?" and whether the God that Christians served, would be merciful to those that had been frequently drunk, &c.

^*- And although I cannot say that I liave satisfactory evidcHces of their being ^^ renewed in the spirit of their mind,^' and aa^ vingly converted to God ; yet the spirit of God did, I api^e-hend, in such a manner attend the means of grace, and so operate upon their minds thereby, as might justly afford matter of encouragement, to hope that God designed good to them, and that he was preparing his way into their souls.

*^ There likewise appeared a reformation in the lives and manners of the Indians.—Their idolatrous sacrifices (of which there was but one or two, that I know of, after my comings among them) were wholly laid aside. And their heathenbn custom of dancings hallooing^ i&c, they seemed in a considerable measure to have abandoned. And I could not but hope, that they were reformed in some measure from the sin of drunh enness. They likewise manifested a regard for the Lord^s day% and not only behaved soberly themselves, but took care ajlso to keep their children in order.

^^ Yet, after all, I must confess, that as there were many hopeful appearances among them, so there were some things more discouraging. And while I rejoiced to observe an^ senousnen and concern among them about the affairs of their souk, still I was not without continual fear and concern, lest such encouraging appearances might prove ^^ like a morning cloud, that passeth away."

" When I had spent near a year with the Indians, I informed them that I expected to leave them in the spring then approaching, and to be sent to another tribe of Indians, at a great distance from them. On hearing this, they appeared very sorrowful, and some of them endeavoured to persuade me to continue with them ; urging that they had now heard so much about their souls'' concerns^ that they could never more be willing to live as they had done, without a minister^ and further instructions in the way to heaven, &c. Whereupon I told them, they ought to be willing that others also should hear about their souls^ concerns, seeing those needed it as much as themselves. Yet furthet to dissuade me from going, they added, that those Indians, to whom I had thoughts of going (as they had heard) were not willing to become Christidns as they were, and therefore urged me to tarry with them. I then told them, that they might receive further instruction without me; but the Indians to whom I expected to be sent, could not, there being no minister near to teach them. And hereupon I advised them in case I should leave them, and be sent elsewhere, to remove to Stockbridge, where they might be supplied with land, and conveniences of living, and be under the ministry of the Rev. Mr. Sargeant: with which advice and proposal, they seemed disposed to comply. " On April 6. 1744, I was ordered and directed bv the cor-

^^^l^oiidcnls for the Indian mission, to take leave ot' the people, ^^^th whom 1 had then spent a full year, and to go, as soon as ?^^veniently I could, to a tribe of Indians on Delaware river ^ Pennsylvania.

** These orders I soon attended, and on April 29th took leave ^f my people, who were mostly removed to Stockbridge under the care of the Rev. Mr. Sargeant. I then set out on my journey towards Delaware ; and on May 10th met with a number of Indians in a place called Miunissinks^ about a hundred and forty miles from Kaunaumeek^ (the place where I spent the last year,) and directly in my way to Delaware river. With these Indians I spent some time, and first addressed their king in a friendly manner; and after some discourse, and attempts to contract a friendship with him, I told him I had a desire (for his benefit and happiness) to instruct them in ChriS' tianiltf. 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. Afler some time, 1 followed the kuig into his house, and renewed nay discourse to him : but he declined talking, and left the affair to another, who appeared to be a rational man. He began, and talked very warmly near a quarter of an hour to* gether: he inc^uired why I desired the Indians to become Christians^ seemg the Christians were so much worse than the Indians are in their present state. The Christians, he said, would lie, steal, and drink, worse than the Indians. It was they first taught the Indians to be drunk: and they stole from one another, to that degree, that their rulers were obliged to hang them for it, and that was not sufficient to deter others from the like practice. But the Indians, he added, were none of them ever hanged for stealing, and yet they did not steal half so much ; and he supposed that if the Indians should become Christians, they would then be as bad as these. And hereupon he said, they would live as their fathers lived, and go where their fathers were when they died. I then freelv awnedj 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 sec mo a^ain, as a friend^ if I would not deaire them to become Christians. —I then bid them farewelli 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 ^iTig*, and others, in a manner I thought most engaging. And

soon after informed the king of my desire to instruct them in the Christian religion. After he had consuhed a few minutesf : 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 J very 'attentive and well disposed. And the king in particular'a seemed both to wonder, and at the same time to be welLj pleased with what I taught them, respecting the divine Being^j^ &c. And since that time he has ever shown himself friendly— to me, giving me free liberty to preach in his house, whenever-I think fit,—Here therefore I have spent the greater part of the summer past, preaching usually in the king^s house.

'^ The number of Indians in this place is but small; most of those that formerly belonged here, are dispersed, and removed to places farther back in the country. There are not more than ten houses hereabouts, that continue to be inhabited; and some of these are several miles distant from others, which makes it difficult for the Indians to meet together so frequently as could be desired.

" When I first began to preach here, the number of my hearers was very small; often not exceeding twenty or twenty-five persons: but towards the latter part of the summer, their number increased, so that I have frequently had for4;y persons, or more, at once; and oftentimes most belonging to those parts, came together to hear me preach.

" The effects which the truths of God's word have had upon some of the Indians in this place, are somewhat encouragmg. Sundry of them are brought to renounce idolatry^ and to decline partaking of those feasts which they used to offer in sacrifice to certain supposed unknown powers. And some few among them have, for a considerable time, manifested a serious concern for their souls' eternal welfare, and still continue to " inquire the way to Zion," with such diligence, affection, and becoming solicitude, as gives me reason to hope that "God who, I trust, has begun this work in them," will carry it on, until it shall issue in their saving conversion to himseltl These not only detest their old idolatrous notions, but strive also to bring their friends off from them. And as they are seeking salvation for tlieir own souls, so they seem desirous, and some of them take pains, that others might be excited to do the like.

" In July last I heard of a number of Indians residing at a place called Kauksesauchung^ more tlian thirty miles westward from the place where I usually preach. I visited them, found about thirty persons, and proposed my desire of preaching to them; they readily complied, and I preached to them only twice, they being just then removing from this place where they only lived for the present, to Susquehannah-river^ where they belonged.

^^ While I was preaching, they appeared sober and atten^ live; and were somewhat surprised, having never before heard of these thin^s^ There were two or three who suspected that I had some ill design upon them; and urged, that the white t)eople had abused them, and taken their lands from them, and therefore they had no reason to think that they were now concerned for tneir happiness; but, on the contrary, that they designed to make them slaves, or get them on board tfieir Vessels, and make them fight with the people over the water^ (as they expressed it,^ meaning the French and Spaniards. However, the most oi them appeared very friendly, and told ine, they were then going directly home to Susquehannah, and desired I would make them a visit there, and manifested a Considerable desire of further instruction.—'This invitation gavel me some encouragement in my great work; and made me hope, that God designed to '^ open an effectual door to me^^ for spreading the gospel among the poor Heathen &rther westward.

^^ In the beginning of October last, with the advice and direction of the correspondents for the Indian mission, I undertook a journey to Susquehannab. And after three days tedious travel) two of them through a wilderness almost unpassabl^,* hy reason of mountains and rocks, and two nights lodging in the open wilderness, I came to an Indian settlement on thei ^e of Susquehannah-river, called Opehothaupung; wiiere were twelve Indian houses, and (as nigh as 1 could learn) about seventy soiils, old and youns, belonging to them.

^ Here also, soon after my arrival, I visited me im^, dddress-iiu[ him with expressions of kindness; and after a few words of friendship, informed him of my desire to teach them the kBowledge of Christianity. He hesitated not long before he' told me, that be was willing to hear. I then preached; and continued there several days, preaching every day, as long as the Indians were at home. And they, in order to hesir me^ deferred the design of their general hunting (which they were just then entering upon) for Sie space of three or four aaysw

^^ The 97ten, I think universally, (except one) attended my preaching. Only the wonien^ supposing the affair we were upon Was of a public nature, belonging only to the men, and not What every individual person should concern himself with, could not readily be persuaded to come and hear; but, after much ps^m used with them for that purpose, some few ventured ia come, and stand at a distance.

^ When I had preached to the Indians several times, some o^ them very frankly proposed what they had to object against Christiaiiity; and so gave me a fair opportunity K>r using my best endeavours to remove from their mmds those scruples and jealousies they laboured under: and when I had endeavoured

Vol. X. 33

to answer their objections, some appeared much satisfied. I then asked the king if be was willing I should visit andf pre&ch to them again, if I should live to the next spring ? He replied, he should oe heartily willing, for his own part, and added, he wished the young people would learn, &c. I then put the same question to the rest; some answered they would be very glad, and none manifested any dislike to it.

•*^ There were sundry other things in their behaviour, which appeared with a comfortable and encouraging aspect f that, upon the whole, I could not but rejoice I had taken tnat journey among them, althou^ it was attended with manv dimculties and hardships. The method I used with them, and the instruct tions I gave them, I am persuaded, were mean», in some measure, to remove their heathenish jealousies and prejudices against Christianity; and I could not but hope, the God of all grace was preparing their minds to receive '^ the truth, as it is m Jesus.^* If this may be the happy consequence, I shall not only rejoice in my past labours and fatigues, but shall, I trust, also " be willing to spend and be spent," if I may thereby be instrumental ^^ to turn them from darkness to light, and nom the power of Satan to Gx)d."

" Thus, Sir, I have given you a faithful account of what has been most considerable respecting my mission among the Indians ; in which I have studied all convenient brevity. I shaU only now take leave to add a word or two respecting the culties that attend the Christianizing of these poor Pagans.

**' In the first place, their minds are filled with prejudices against Christianity, on account of the vicious lives, and unchris^ iian behaviour of some that are called Christians. These not only set before them the worst examples, but some of them take pains, expressly in words, to dissuade them from becoming Christians; foreseeing, that if these should be converted to God, "the hope of their unlawful gain," would thereby be lost.

" Again, these poor Heathens are extremely attached to the customs, traditions, and fabulous notions of their fathers. And this one seems to be the foundation of all their other notions, viz. that " it was not the same God made them, who made the white people," but another, who commanded them to live by hunting, &c. and not to conform to the customs of the white people. Hence, when they are desired to become Christians^ they frequently reply, that " they wiH live as their fathers lived, and go to their fathers when they die." And if the miracles of Christ and his apostles be mentioned, to prove the truth of Christianity, they also mention sundry miracles, which their fathers have told them were anciently wrought among the Indians, and which Satan makes them believe were so*. They are much attached to idolatry \ frequently making feasts, which they eat in honourto %om^ unknown beings, who, they suppose, speas

MEMOIRS OF BRAIXERD.

171

10 <h.oxn in dreams; promising them success in hunting, and other

^^ii^, in case they will sacrifice to them. They oftentimes, also,

o»fer their sacrifices to the spirits of the dead; who, they suppose,

^'^^^d in need of favours from the living, and yet are in such a

^te as that they can well reward all the offices of kindness

^^t are shown them. And they impute all their calamities to

^^^ neglect of these sacrifices.

^ Furthermore, they are much awed by those among them-^Ives, who are called powwows^ who are supposed to have a P^^er of enchanting, or poisoning them to death, or, at least,. 1^ a very distressing manner. And they apprehend, it would ^ their sad fate to be thus enchanted, in case they should become Christians.

"Lastly, the manner of their living is likewise a great disadvantage to the design of their being Christianized. They are almost continually roving from place to place; and it is but rare, that an opportunity can be had with some of them for their instruction. There is scarce anv time of the year, wherein the men can be found generally at nome, except about six weeks before, and in the season of planting their corn, and about two months in the latter part of summer, from the time they^begin to roast their corn, until it is fit to gather in.

^^ As to the hardships that necessarily attend a mission among them, the fatigues of frequent journeying in the wilderness, the unpleasantness of a mean and hard way^'of living, and the great difficulty of addressing^' a people of a strange language,^' these I shall, at present, pass over in silence; designing what I have already said of difficulties attending this work, not for the discouragement of any, but rather for the incitement of all who ** love the appearing of the kingdom of Christ," to fi-equent the throne of grace with earnest supplications, that the Heathen, who were anciently promised to Christ " for his inheritance," may now actually and speedily be brought into his kingdom of grace, and made heirs of immortal glory.

^^Jam, Sir,

" Your obedient^ humble servant>»

"David Brainerb."

The same day^ Nov, 5, he set out on a journey to New York, to the meeting of the Presbytery there; and was from home mare than a fortnight. He seemed to enter on this journey with great reluctance; fearing that the diversions of it would prove a means of cooling his religious affections, a3 he had found in other journeys. Yet, in this journey, he had some special seasons wherein he enjoyed extraordinary evidences and fixiits of God's gracious presence. He was greatly fatigued, and exposed to cold and storms; and when he returned from

na MEMOIRS OF BRAINERD,

New York to New Jersey, on Friday was taken very ill, and was detained by his illness some time.

Nov. 21. " Rode from Newark to Rockciticus in the cold, and was almost overcome with it. Enjoyed some sweetness in conversation with dear Mr. Jones, while I dined with him. My soul loves the people of God, and especially the ministers m Jesus Christ, who feel the same trials that I do.

Nov. 32. " Came on my way from Rockciticus to the Delaware. Was very much disordered with a cold and pain in my head. About six at night, I lost my way in the wilderness, and wandered over rocks ^ - mountains, down hideous steeps, throuffb swamps, and X' M dreadful and dancerous places; and, me night being dsxu, io that few stars could be seen, I was greatly exposed. 1 was much pinched with cold, and distressed with an extreme pain in my head, attended with sickness at my stomach -, so that every step I took was distressing to me. i had little hope for several hours together, but that I must lie out in the woods all night, in this distressed case. But about nine o^clock, I found a house, through the abundant goodness of God, and was kindly entertained. 'Thus I have frequently been e:(posed, and sometimes lain out the whole nijght: but God has hitherto preserved me; and blessed be his name, Such fatigues and hardships as these serve to wean me from the earth; and, I trust, will make heaven the sweeter. For< merly, when I was thus exposed to cold, rain, &c, I Was ready to please myself with the thoughts of enjoying a com? fortable house, a warm fire, and other outward comforts; but now these have less place in my heart, (through the ^ace of God,) and my eye is more to God for comfort. In this world I expect tribulation; and it does not now, as formerly, appear strange to me. I do not in such seasons of difficulty flatter myself that it will be better hereafter; but rather think how much worse it might be ; how much greater trials others of God's children have endured; and how much greater are yet perhcms reserved for me. Blessed be God, that he makes the thougnts of my journey's end, and of my dissolution, a great comfort to me, under my sharpest trials; and scarce ever lets these thoughts be attended with terror or melancholy; but they 9xe attended frequently with great joy,

Nov. 28, J^ Visited a sick man; discoursed and prayed with fiim. Then visited another house, where one was dead and laid out; looked on the corpse, and longed that my time might come to depart^ that I might be with Christ. Then went heme to my lodgings, about one o'clock. Felt poorly 5 but was able to read, most of the afternoon,'*

Within the ^ace of the next twelve day8^ he passed under many changes in the frames and exercises of his mind. He had many seasons of the special influences of God^s Spirit, animating, invigorating, and comforting him in the ways of God and the duties of reUgion: but had some turns of great dejection and melancholy. He spent much time, within this space, in hard labour, with others, to make for himself a little cottage or hut, to live in by himself thrcMigii the winter. Yet he frequently preached to the Indians, imd speaks of special assistance which he had formed from time to time, in address^ ing himself to them ; and of his som^mes having considerable encouragement from the atter ^- jb which they gave. But on Tuesday^ December 4, he wa&- mfe into great discouragement, to see most of them going in,Company to an idolatrous fea^t and dance^ after he had taken abundant pains to dissuade them from these things.

Dec. 6. " Having now a happy opportunity of being retired in a house of my own, which I have lately procured and moved into; considering that it is now a long^ time since I have been able, either on account of bodily weakness, or for want of retirement, or some other difficulty to spend any time in secret fasting and prayer; considering also the greatness of my work, the extreme difficulties that attend it, and that mv poor Indians are now worshipping devils^ notwithsteuiding all the pains I have taken with them, which almost overwhelms my spirit; inoreover, considering my extreme barrenness, spiritual deadness and dejection, of late; as also the power of some particular corruptions; I set apart this day for secret prayer and fasting, to implore the blessing of God on myself, on my poor people, on my friends, and on the church of God. At first, 1 felt a great backwardness to the duties of the day, on account of the seeming impossibility of performing them; but the Lord helped me to break through this difficulty. God was pleased by the use of means, to give me some clear conviction of my sinfulness, and a discovery of the plague of my own heart J more affecting than what I have of late had. And especially I saw my sinfulness in this, that when God had withdrawn himself, then, instead of living and dying in pursuit of liim, I have been disposed to one of these two things; either, Jbrst^ to yield an unbecoming respect to some eartUy objects, as if happiness were to be derived from them; or, secondly^ to be Hecieilyfroward and impatient, and unsuitably desirous of deaths so that I have sooAetimes thought I could not .bear to think that my life must be lengthened out. That which often drove me to this impatient desire of death, was a despair of doing any good in life; and I chose death rather than a life spent for nothing. Sut now God m«de me sensible of my sin

in these things, and enabled me to cry to him iox forgiveness. Yet this was not all which I wanted, for my soul appeared exceedingly polluted, my heart seemed like a nest of vipers, or a cage of unclean and hateful birds ; and therefore I wanted to be purified ^^ by the blood of sprinkling, that cleanseth from all sin." This, I hope, I was enabled to pray for in faith. I enjoyed much more intenseness, fervency, and spirituality, than I expected; God was better to me than my fears. Towards night, I felt my soul rejoice, that God is unchangeably happy and glorious; and that he will be glorified, whatever becomes of his creatures. I was enabled to persevere in prayer, until sometime in the evening : at which time 1 saw so much need of divine help, in every respect, that I knew not how to leave off, and had forgot that I needed food. This evening, I was much assisted in meditating on Is. Hi. 3. For thus sceith the Lordt ye have sold yourselves for nought^ &c. Blessed be the Lord ior any help m the past day.

Dec. 7. ^^ Spent some time in prayer, in the morning; enjoyed some fi-eedom and affection in the duty, and had longing desires of being ^^ made faithful to death." Spent a little time in writing on a divine subject: then visited me Indians, and preached to them ; but under inexpressible dejection. I had no heart to speak to them, and could not do it, but as 1 forced myself: I knew they must hate to hear me, as having but just got home from theu- idolatrous feast and devil-worship. —In the evening, had some freedom in prayer and meditation.

Dec, 8. " Have been uncommonly free this day from dejection, and from that distressing apprehension, that I could do nothing; was enabled to pray and study with some comfort; and especially was assisted in writing on a divine subject. In the evening, my soul rejoiced in God; and I blessed his name for shining on my soul. O, the sweet and blessed change I then felt, when God " brought me out of darkness into his marvellous light !"

Lords day^ Dec. 9. " Preached, both parts of the day, at a place called Greenwich^ in New Jersey, about ten miles froni my own house. In the first discourse I had scarce any warmth or affectionate longing for souls. In the intermediate season 1 got alone among the bushes, and cried to God for pardon of my deadness; and was in anguish and bitterness, that I could not address souls with more compassion and tender affection. I judged and condemned myself for want of this divine temper; t^ot^h I saw I could not get it as of myself, any more than I could make a world. In the latter exercise, blessed be the Lord, I had some fervency, both in prayer and preaching; and especially in the application of my discourse, I was enabled to address precious souls with affection, concern, tenderness, and

importunity. The spirit of God, I think, was there ; as the effects were apparent, tears running down many cheeks.

jpcc. 10. " Near noon, I preached again: God gave me some assistance, and enabled me to be in some degree faithful ; so that I had peace in my own soul, and a very comfortable composure, " although Israel should not be gathered." Came away from Greenwich and rode home; arrived just in the evening. By the way my soul blessed God for his goodness; and I rejoiced, that so much of my work was done, and I so much nearer my blessed reward. Blessed be God for grace to be faithful.

Dec. 11. " Felt very poorly in body, being much tired and worn out the last night. Was assisted in some measure in writing on a divine subject: but was so feeble and sore in my breast, that I had not much resolution in my work. O, how I long for that world " where the weary are at rest!" and yet through the goodness of God I do not now feel impatient.

Dec. 12. " Was again very weak ; but somewhat assisted in secret prayer, and enabled with pleasure and sweetness to ciy^ *' Come, Lord Jesus ! come. Lord Jesus! come quickly." My soul " longed for God, for the living God." O, how delightful it is to pray under such sweet influences ! O, how much better is this, than one's necessary food ! I had at this time no disposition to eat, (though late in the morning;) for earthly food appeared wholly tasteless. O how much " better is thy love than wine," than the sweetest wine!—I visited and preached to the Indians,. in the afternoon; but under much dejection* Found my Inter-prefer under some concern for his soul; which was some comfort to me; and yet filled me with new care. I longed greatly for his conversion; lifted up my heart to God for it, while I was talking to him; came home, and poured out my soul to God for him; enjoyed some freedom in prayer, and was enabled, I think, to leave all with God.

Dec. 13. " Endeavoured to spend the day in fasting and prayer, to implore the divine blessing, more especially on my poor people; and in particular, I sought for converting grace for my Interpreter^ and three or four more under some concern for their souls. I was much disordered in the morning when I arose; but having determined to spend the day in this manner, I attempted it. Some freedom I had in pleading for these poor concerned souls, several times; and when mterceding for them, I enjoyed greater freedom from wandering an4 distracting thoughts, than in any part of my supplications. Buty in the general, I was greatly exercised with wanderings; so that in the evening it seemed as if I had need to pray for nothing so much as for the pardon of sins committed in the day past^ and the vileness I then found in myself. The sins I had most sense of, were pride, and wandering thoughts, whereby \

mocked God. The fonner of these cursed iniquities excited me to think of writing, preaching, or converting heathens, or performing some other great work, that my name might live wnen I should be dead. My soul was in anguish, and ready to drop into despair, to find so much of that cursed temper^ With this< and the other evil I laboured under, viz. wandering thoughts, 1 was almost overwhelmed, and even ready to give over striying after a spirit of devotion ; and oftentimes sunk into a considerable degree of despondency^ and thought I was ** mote bmtish than any man.^^ Yet after all nnr sonows, I trust, through grace, this day and the exercises of it have been for my good^ and taught me more of my corruption, and weakness wimout Christ, than I knew before.

Dec. 14. '^ Near noon, went to the Indians; but knew not what to say to them, and was ashamed to look them m the face. I felt that I had no power to address their consciences^ and therefore had no boldness to say any thing. Was, mach of the day, in a degree of despair about ever ^^ doing or seeing any good in the land of the living.^^

He continued under the same dejection the next day^

Lord'^s datfi Dec. 16. " Was so overwhelmed With dejeC^ tion, that I knew not how to livCr I longed for death exceedingly : my soul was sunk into deep waters^ and thelioods were ready to drown me. I was so much oppressed, tnat my soul was in a kind of horror ; could not keep my thoughts fixed in prayer, for the space of one minute, without fluttering anil distraction ; and was exceedingly ashamed, that I did not live to God. I had no distressing doubt about my own state; but would have cheerfully ventured (as far as I cotild possibly know) into eternity. While I was going to preach to the Indians, my soul was in anguish ; I was so overborne with discouragement, that I despaired of doing any good, and was driven to my wit*s-end; I knew nothing what to say, nor what course to take^ But at last I insisted on the evidence we have of the truth of Christianity from the miracles of Christ ^ many of which I set before them : and God helped me to make a close application to those who refused to believe the truth of what I taught them. Indeed, I was enabled to speak to thcf consciences of all, in some measure, and was somewhat encouraged, to find that God enabled me to be faithfial once more. Then came and preached to another company of them; but was very weary and faint. In the evening, I wasf refreshed, and enabled to pray and praise God with composure and affection; had some enlargement and courage with respect to my work; was willing to live, and longed to do more for God than my weak state of body would admit of. " I can

tic all things through Christ that strengthens me r and by his

f-ace, I am willing to spend and be spent in his service, when am not thus sunk in dejection, and a kind of despair.

Dec. 17. ^' Was comfortable in mind, most of the day; was enabled to pray with some freedom, cheerfulness, composure, and devotion ; and had also some assistance in writing on a divine subject.

Dec. 18. *'Went to the Indians, and discoursed to them near an hour, without any power to come close to their hearts. &ut at last I felt some fervency, and God helped me to speak with warmth. My Interpreter also was amazingly assisted ; and I doubt not but that '* the Spirit of God wasoipon him ;^^ though I had no reason to think he had any true and saving grace, but was only under conviction of his lost state ; and presently Upon this most of the grown persons were much affected, and the tears ran down their cheeks. One old ?nan^ I suppose an hundred years old, was so much affected, that he wept, and seemed convinced of the importance of what I taught them. I staid with them a considerable time, exhorting and directing them ; and came away, lifting up my heart to God in prayer and praise, and encouraged and exhorted my Interpreter to ^ strive to enter in at the strait gate.^' Came home, sind spent most of the evening in prayer and thanksgiving; and found ttyself much enlarged and quickened. Was greatly concerned, that the Lord^s work which seemed to be begun, might be carried on with .power, to the conversion of poor souls, and the fflory of divine grace.

Xtec. 19. " Spent a great part of the day in prayer to God, for the outpouring of his Spirit on my poor people; as, also, to bless his name for awakenmg my Interpreter and some others, BJtid giving us some tokens of his presence yesterday. And blessed be God, I had much freedom, five or six times in the da^, in prayer and praise, and felt a weighty concern upon my spirit for the salvation of those precious souls, and the enlargement of the Redeemer's kingdom among them. My soul hoped in God for some success in my ministry : and blessed be his name for so much hope.

Dec. 20. " Was enabled to visit the throne of grace frequent ly this day; and through divine goodness enjoyed much freedom and fervency, sundry times: was much assisted in crying for mercy for my poor people, and felt cheerfulness and nope in nay requests for them. I spent much of the day in writing; but Was enabled to intermix prayer with my studies.

Dec. 21. " Was enabled again to pray with freedom, cheerfulness, and hope. God was pleased to make the duty comfortable and pleasant to me; so that I delighted to persevere^ Tflid repeatedly to engage in it. Towards noon, visited my people, and spent the whole time in the way to them in prayer^

Vol. X. 23

longing to sec the power of God. among them, as ther6 ap' peared something of it the last Tuesday; and I found it sweet to rest and hope in God. Preached to them twice, and at twa distinct places: had considerable freedom each time, and- so had my Interpreter. Several of them followed me from one place to the other: and I thought there was some divine influence discernible amongst them. In the evening, was assisted in prayer again. Blessed be the LordP'*

Very much the same things are expressed concerning his in-> ward frame, exercises, and assistances on Saturday^ as on the precedingdays.- He observes, that this was a comfortable week to him*, J3ut then concludes, ^^ Oh that I had no reason to com-' plain of much barrenness! Oh that there were no vain thoughts and evil affections lodged within me ! The Lord knows how I long for that world, where they rest day nor night saying, Hofy, holtf^ holy is the Lord God A Imtghty P'* On the following Sa6&at& be speaks of assistance and freedom in his public work, but as having less of the sensible presence of God, than fre(|uently in the week past; but yet says his soul was kept from smking in discouragement. On Monday y again, he seemed to enjoy venF much the same liberty and fervency, through the day, which he enjoyed through the greater part of the preceding week.^— This day, he wrote the following letter to one of his intimate friends, a clergyman in New Jersey.

'-Forks of Delaware, Dee. 24,1744.

" Rev. and Dear Brother,

" I have little to say to you about spiritual joys, and those blessed refreshments and divine consolations, with which I have been much favoured in times past; but this I can tell you, that if I gain experience in no other point, yet I am sure I do in this, viz. that the present world has nothing in it to satisfy an immortal soul; and hence, that it is not to be desired for itself, but only because God may be seen and served in it. I wish I could be more patient and willine to live in it for this 67t^, than I can usually find myself to be. It is no virtue, I know, to desire death, only to be freed from the miseries of life ; but I want that divine hope which you observed, when I saw you last, was the very sinews of vital religion. Earth can do us no good, and if there be no hope of our doing good on earth, how can we desire to live in it ? Yet we ought to desire, or at least to be resigned to tarry in it; because it is the will of our all-wise Sovereign. But, perhaps, these thoughts will appear melancholy and gloomy, and, consequently, will be very undesirable

t5 you; and, therefore, I forbear to add, I wish you may not read them in the same circumstances in which I write them. I have a little more to do and suffer in a dark, disconsolate world ; and then I hope to be as nappy as you are.—I should ask you to pray for me, were I worth your concern. May the Lord enable us both to '^ endure hardness as good soldiers of Jesus Christ;" and may we " obtain mercy of God to be faithful to the death," in the discharge of our respective trusts! " I am your very unworthy brother, ** And humble servant,

"David Brainerd.''

Dec. 25. " Enjoyed very little quiet sleep last night, by reason of bodily weakness, and the closeness of my studies yesterday ; yet my heart was somewhat lively in prayer and praise. I was delighted with the divine glory and happiness, and rejoiced that God was God, and that he was unchangeably possessed of glory and blessedness. Though God held my eyes toaJfctn^, yet he helped me to improve my time profitably amidst mj pains and weakness, in continued meditations on Luke xiii. 7. Behold^ these three years I come seeking fruity &c. My meditations were sweet; and I wanted to set before sinners their sin and danger.''

He continued in a very ]ow state, as to his bodily health, for ^omedays^ which seems to have been a great hinderance to him in his religious exercises and pursuits. But yet he expresses some degree of divine assistance, from day to day, through the renuminspart of this week. He preached several times this week to his Indians; and there appeared still some concern amongst them for their souls. On Saturday^ he rode to the bish settlement, about fifteen miles from his lodgings^ in order to spend the Sabbath there.

hordes day^ Dec. 30. ^^ Discoursed, both parts of the day, from Mark viii. 34. Whosoever will come after me, (&c. God gave me very great freedom and clearness, and in the afternoon especiallV) considerable warmth and fervency. In the evening also, had very great clearness while conversing with friends on divine things. I do not remember ever to have had more clear apprehensions of religion in my life; but found a struggle in the evening with spiritual pride.''

On Monday^ he preached again in the same place with freedom and fervency; and rode home to his lodging, and arrived in the evening, under a considerable degree of podiljr illness, which continued the two next days^ so that he complains much of spiritual emptiness and barrenness on those days.

Jan. 3, 1745. ^' Being sensible of the great want of divine-^ influence, and the outpouring of God^s Spirit, I spent this ds^-*? in fasting and prayer, to seek so great a mercy for myself, mjr^ poor people in particular, and the church of God in gencvaL^ In the morning, was very lifeless in prayer, and could ge^K ^carcely any sense of God. Near noon, enjoyed some sweeC' freedom to pray that the will of God might in every respecft become mine ; and I am persuaded, it was so at that time ic some good degree. In the afternoon, I was exceedingly weak, and could not enjoy much fervency in prayer; but felt a great degree of dejection; which, I believe, was very much owing to my bodily weakness and disorder.

Jan. 4. ^^ Rode up to the Indians, near noon; spent some time under great disorder: my soul was sunk down into deef waters^ and 1 was almost overwhelmed with melancholy.

Jan. 5. ^^ Was able to do something at vrritinff; but was much disordered with pain in mv head. At night, was dift^ tressed with a sense of my spiritual pollution, and ten thousand youthful, yea, and childish tollies, that nobody but myself had any thought about; aH which appeared to me now fredi, and in a lively view, as if committed yesterday, and made aiy soul ashamed before God, and caused me to hate myself.

Lord^s day^ Jan. 6. ^^ Was still distressed with vapoury dis^ orders. Preached to my poor Indians: but had little heart or life. Towards night, my soul was pressed under a sense of my unfaithfulness. O the joy and peace that arise from a sense of " having obtained mercy of God to be faithful P* And O the misery and anguish that spring from an apprehension of the contrary!"

His dejection continued the two next days ; but not to so great a degree on Tuesday^ when he enjoyed some freedom and fervency in preaching to the Indians.

Jan. 9. ^^ In the morning, God was pleased to remove that

Sloom which has of late oppressed my mind, and gave me free* om and sweetness in prayer. I was encouraged, strengthened, and enabled to plead for grace for myself, and mercy for my poor Indians; and was sweetly assisted in my intercessions with God for others. Blessed be his holy name for ever and ever* Amen, and Amen. Those things that of late appeared most difiicult and almost impossible, now appeared not only possible, but easy. My soul was much delighted to continue mstant in prayer, at this blessed season, that I had no desire for my necessary food: even dreaded leaving off praying at all, lest I should lose this spirituality, and this blessed thankftilness to God which I then felt, I felt now quite willing to live, and tindergo all trials that might remain for me in a world of sor*

row: but still longed fcur heaven, that I might glorify God in « perfect manner. O *^c<Hne, Lord Jesus^ come quickly.^^ Spent the day in reading a little; and in some diversions, wnich I was necessitated to take by reason of much weakness and disorder. In the evening, enjoyed some freedom and intenseness in prayer.^^

The three remaining days of the week., he was very low and feeble in body; but nevertheless continued constantly in the same comfortable sweet frame of mind, as is expressed on Wednesday. On the Sabbath^ this sweetness in spiritual alacrity began to abate; but still he enjoyed some degree of comfort, and had assistance in preaching to the Indians.

Jem. 14. ^^ Spent this day under a great degree of bodily weakness and disorder ; had very little freedom, either in my studies or devotions; and in the evening, I was much dejected and melancholy. It pains and distresses me, that I hve 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 m^ work ipeecUy 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 that I shall be afraid if God leaves me; and therefore I think it always my duty to provide for that solemn hour. But for a very considerable time past, my soul has rejoiced to think of death in its nearest approaches, and even when I have been veiy weak, and seemed nearest eternity. ^^ Not unto me, not unto me, but to God be the glory.'' I feel that which convinces me, that if God do not enable me to maintain a holy, dependence upon him, death will easily be a terror to me; but at present, I must say, ^' I Ions to depart, and to be with Christ," which is the best of all. When I am in a sweet resided frame of soul, I am willing to tarry awhile in a world of scHTOw. I am willing to be from home as long as God sees fit it should be so; but when I want the influence of this tem-

£»*, I am then apt to be impatient to be gone.—O, when will e day appear, that I shall be perfect in holiness, and in the enjoyment of God!"

The next day was spent under a great degree of dejection and melancholy; which, as he himself was persuaded, was owing piartly to bodily weakness, and vapoury disorders.

Jan. 16 and 17. ^^ I spent most of the time in writing on a Bweet divine subject, and enjoyed some freedom and assistance. Was likewise enabled to pray more frequently and fervently than usual; and my soul, I think, rejoiced in God; especially

on the evening of the last of these days. Praise then seemed comely^ and I delighted to bless the Lord. O what reason have 1 to be thankfol, that Grod 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. O, how comfortable and sweet it is, to feel the assistance of divine grace in the performance of the duties which God has enjoined on us ! Bless the Lardy O my soul P^

The same enlargement of heart, and joyful frame of soul, continued through the next day. But on the day following it began to decline; which decay seems to have continued the whole of the next week: yet he enjoyed some seasons of special and sweet assistance.

Lord'^s day, Jan. 27. ^ Had the greatest degree of inward anguish, which I almost ever endured. I was perfectly over--whelmed, and so confused, that after 1 began to discoiurse to the Indians, before I could finish a sentence, sometimes I forgot entirely what I was aiming at; or if, with much difficulty, I had recollected what I had before designed, ftill it appeared-strange, and like something I had long forgotten, and had now but an imperfect remembrance of. I know it was a degree of distraction, occasioned by vapoury disorders, melanchcdr, spiritual desertion, and some other things that particularly pressed upon me this morning, with an uncommon weight, the principal of which respected my Indians. This distressing gloom never went off the whole day ; but was so far removed, that I was enabled to speak with seme freedom and concern to the Indians, at two of their settlements; and I think, there was some appearance of the presence of God with us, some seriousness and seeming concern among the Indians, at least a few of them. In the evening, this gloom continued still, till family prayer,* about nine o'clock, and almost through this, until I came near the close, when I was praying, as I usually do, for the illumination and conversion of my poor people; and then the cloud was scattered, so that I enjoyed sweetness and freedom, and conceived hopes, that God designed mercy for some of them. The same I enjoyed afterwards in secret prayer ; in which precious duty I had for a considerable time sweetness and freedom, and, I hope, faith, in praying for myself, my poor Indians, and dear friends and acquaintance in New-England, and elsewhere, and for the dear interests of Zion in general. Bless the Lord, O my soul^ and forget not all his benefits.^^

* Thoug^h Brainerd now dwelt by himBelf in the forementioned litUe cot-tage« which he had built for his own use; yet that was near to p. fynxulj of white people, with whom he had lired before, and with whom he still attended family prayer.

tie spent the rest of this week^ or, at least, the most of it, under dejection and melancholy ; which, on Friday^ rose to an extreme height; he being then, as he himself obser\'es, much exercised with vapoury disorders. This exceeding gloominess continued on Saturday, till the evening, when he was again relieved in family prayer ; and after it, was refreshed in secret, and felt willing to live, and endure hardships in the cause of God; and found his hopes of the advancement of Christ^s kingdom, as also his hopes to see the power of God among the poor Indians, considerably raised.

Lord'*s day^ Feb. 3. ^^ In the morning, I was somewhat relieved of that gloom and confusion, with which my mind has of late been greatly exercised ; and was enabled to pray with some composure and comfort. Still 1 went to my Indians trembling; for my soul " remembered the wormwood and the gair^ of Friday last. I was greatly afraid that I should be obliged again to drink of that cup of tremblings which was in* conceivably more bitter than death, and made me long for the grave more, unspeakably more, than for hid treasures, yea, inconceivably more than the men of this world long for such treasures. But God waa pleased to hear my cries, and to afford me great assistance ; so that I felt peace in my own soul; and was satisfied, that if not one of the Indians should be profited by my preaching, but should all be damned, yet I should be accepted and rewarded as faithful; for I am persuaded, God enabled me to be so.—Had some good degree of help afterwards, at another place ; and much longed for the conversion of the poor Indians. Was somewhat refreshed, and comfortable, towards night and in the evening. Oh, that my soul might praise the Lord for his goodness !—Enjoyed some freedom, in the evening, in meditation on Luke xiii. ^. Strive to enter in ai the strmtgate^ &c.^^

In the three next days^ he was the subject of much dejection: but the three remaining days of the week, seem to have been spent with much composure and comfort. On the next Sabbathy he preached at Greenwich, in New Jersey. In the evening, he rode eight miles to visit a sick man at the point of death, and found him speechless and senseless.

Feb. 11. « About break of day, the sick man died. I was affected at the sight; spent the morning with the mourners; and, after prayer and some discourse with them, returned to Greenwich, and preached again from Ps. Ixxxix. 15. Blessed is the people that know^ &c. The Lord gave me assistance; I felt a sweet love to souls, and to the kingdom of Christ; and longed that poor sinners might know the joyful sound. Several persons

were much affected. After meeting, I was enabled to discourge, with freedom and concern, to some persons, who applied to me mider spiritual trouble. Left the place, sweetly composed, and rode home to my house about eight miles distant Discoursed to friends, and inculcated divme truths upon some. In the evening, was in the most solemn frame, which I almost ever remember to have experienced. I know not that ever death appeared more real to me, or that ever I saw myself in the condition of a dead corpse, laid out, and dressed for a lodsing in the silent grave, so evidently as at this time. And yet I felt exceedingly tranquil; my mind was composed and calm, and death appeared without a sting. I think, I never felt such an universal mortifi-' cation to all created objects as now. O, how great and ^lenm a thing it appeared to die ! O, how it lays the greatest honour in the dust! And O^ how vain and trifling did the riches, fao*" nours, and pleasures of the world appear! I could not, I dare not, so much as think of any of them; for deaths deaths solemn (though not frightfril) death appeared at the door. O, I could see myself dead, and laid out, and inclosed in my coflbti, and put down into the cold grave, with the greatest solemnity, but without terror! I spent most of the evening in conversing with a dear Christian friend; and blessed be God, it was a comfortable evening to us both. What are friends ? What are comforts? What are sorrows ? What are distresses ?—^^ The time is short. It remains, that they which weep, be as though they wept not; and they which rejoice, as though they rejoiced not; for the fashion of this world passeth away* Oh come, Lord Jesus, come quickly. Amen."— Blessed be God for the com^ forts of the past day.

Feb, 12. " Was exceedingly weak; but in a sweet, resigned^ composed frame, most of the day: felt my heart freely go forth after God in prayer.

Feb. 13. " W as much exercised with vapoury disorders, but. still enabled to maintain solemnity, and, I think, spirituality.

Feb, 14. " Spent the day in writing on a divine subject y enjoyed health and freedom in my work; and had a solemim sense of death, as I have indeed had every day this week, in some measure. What I felt on Monday last, has been abiding^ in some considerable degree, ever since.

Feb. 15. " Was engaged in writing again almost the whole day. In the evenings was much assisted in meditating on that precious text, John vii. 37. Jesus stood and cried^ &c. I had then a sweet sense of the free grace of the gospel; my soul was encouraged, warmed and quickened. My desires were drawn out after God in prayer ; and my soul was watchful, afraid of losing so sweet a guest as I then entertained. I continued long in prayer and meditation, intermixing one with the other j ^nd was unwilling to be diverted by any thing at all from so

sweet an exercise. I longed to proclaim the grace 1 then meditated upon, to the world of sinners.—O how quick and powerful is the word of the blessed God."

The next day^ he complains of great conflicts with corruption, and much discomposure of mind.

Lord'^8 dayy Feb. 17. " Preached to the white people, my Interpreter being absent, in the wilderness upon the sunny side of a hill; had a considerable assembly, consisting of people who lived, at least many of them, not less than thirty miles asunder; some of them came near twenty miles. I discoursed to them all day, from John vii. 37. Jesus stood and cried^ say-^g^ ifonyman thirsty &c. In the afternoon, it pleased God to grant me great freedom and fervency in my discourse; and I was enabled to imitate the example of Christ in the text, who stood and cried, —I think I was scarce ever enabled to offer the free grace of God to perishing sinners with more freedom and plainness in my life. Afterwards, I was enabled earnestly to invite the children of God to come renewedly, and drink of this fountain of the water of life, from whence they have heretofore derived unspeakable satisfaction. It was a very comfortable time to me. There were many tears in the assembly ; and I doubt not but that the Spirit of God was there, convincing poor sinners of their need of Christ. In the evening, Ifelt composed and comfortable, though much tired. I had some sweet sense of the excellency and glory of God; my soul rejoiced that he was " God over all blessed for ever ;'' but was too much crowded with company and conversation, and longed to be more alone with God. Oh that I could for ever bless God for the mercy of this day, who " answered me in the joy of my heart."

The remainder of this week seems to have been spent under a decay of this life and Joy, and in distressing conflicts with corruption ; but not without some seasons of refreshment and comfort.

hordes day^ Feb. 24. " In the morning was much perplexed. My Interpreter being absent, I knew not how to perform my work among the Indians. However, I rode to them, got a Dutchman to interpret for me, though he was but poorly qualified for the business. Afterwards, I came and preached to a few white people, from John vi. 67. Then said Jesus unto the twelve^ &c. Here the Lord seemed to unburden me in some measure, especially towards the close of my discourse: I felt freedom to open the love of Christ to his own dear dis-

' ?*.. When the rest of the vforlA forsakes him, and are/or-

VoL. X. 34

iaken by him, that he calls them no more, he then turns to his own, and says, Will ye also go away ? 1 had a sense of the free grace of Christ to his own people, in such seasons of gene* ral apostacy, and when they themselves in some measure backslide with the world. O the free grace of Christ, that he seasonably reminds his people of their danger of backsliding^ and invites them to persevere in their adherence to himself! I saw that backsliding souls, who seemed to be about to go away with the world, might return, and welcome, to him immedi' atdy ; without any thin^ to recommend them; notwithstanding all their former backslidings. Thus my discourse was suited to my own soul^s case; for, of late, I have found a great want of this sense and apprehension of divine grace ; and have often been greatly distressed in my own soul, because I did not suitably apprehend this ^^ fountain to purge away sin ;^^ and have been too much labouring for spiritual life, peace of conscience, and progressive holiness, in my own strength. Now God showed me, in some measure, the arm of all stren&th, and the fonmr tain of all grace.—In the evening, I felt solemn, devout and sweet; resting on free grace for assistance, acceptance, and peace of conscience."

Within the space of the next nine days^ ho had frequent refreshing, invigorating influences of God^s Spirit; attended with complaints of dulness, and with longings after spiritual life and holy fervency.

Marchij, " Spent most of the day in preparing for a journey to New England. Spent some time in prayer, with a special reference to my intended journey. Was afraid I should forsake the Fountain of living waters^ and attempt to derive satisfaction from broken cisterns^ my dear friends and acquaintance, with whom 1 might meet in my journey. I looked to God to keep me from this vanity^ as well as others. Towards night, and in the evening, was visited by some friends, some of whom, I trust, were real Christians ; who discovered an affectionate regard to me, and seemed grieved that I was about to leave ^em; especially as I did not expect to make any considera-' able stav among them, if 1 should live to return from New England.* O how kind has God been to me! how has he raised up friends in every place where his providence has called me 1 Friends are a great comfort; and it is God who gives them; it is He who makes them friendly to me. Bless the Lord, O my soulj and forget not all his benefits.

The ncoTt day, he set out on his journey ; and it was about five weeks before he returned.—The special design of this

* It leems he had a design, by what afterwards appears, to remove and^lire among the Indians on the Susquehannah river.

journey, he himself declares afterrv^ards, in his diar}r for March 21, where, speaking of his conversing with a certain minister in New England, he says, ^^ Contrived with him how to raise some money among Christian friends, in order to support a collea^e^with me m the wilderness, (I having now spent two years m a"very solitary manner,) that we might be together: as Christ sent out his disciples two and two: and as this was the principal concern 1 had in view, in taking this journey, so I took pains m it, and hope God will succeed it, if for his glory." He first went into various parts of New Jersey, and visited several ministers there; then went to New York; and from thence into New England, going to various parts of Connecticut. He then returned to New Jersey, and met a number of ministers at Woodbridge, "who," he says, " met there to consult about the affairs of Christ^s kingdom, in some important articles." He seems, for the most part, to have been free from melancholy in this journey; and many times to have had extraordinary assistance in public ministrations, and his preaching sometimes attended with very hopeful appearances of a good effect on the auditory. He also had many seasons of special comfort and spiritual refreshment, in conversation with ministers and other Christian friends, and also in meditation and prayer when alone.

April 13. " Rode home to my own house at the Forks of Delaware; and was enabled to remember the goodness of the Lord, who has now preserved me while riding full six hundred miles in this journey; has kept me that none of my bones have been broken. Blessed be the Lord, who has preserved me in this tedious journey, and returned me in safety to my own house. Verily it is God who has upheld me, ana guarded my goings.

Lord^s day^ April 14. " Was disordered in body with the fatigues of the late journey; but was enabled however to pireach to a considerable assembly of white people, gathered from all parts round about, with some freeaom, from Ezek. xxxiii. Ih As I live^ saith the Lord God^ &c. Had much more assistance than I expected."

This toeek he went a journey to Philadelphia, in order to en-^ge the Governor to use his mterest with the chief of the Six Nations^ With, whom he maintained a strict friendship, that he would give him leave to live at Susquehannah, and instruct the Indians who are within theu- territories.* In his way to and

'*' The Indians at Sasqaehannah are a mixed company of many nations, speaking yarioas languages, and few of them properly of the Six Nations. Bat yet the coantry having formerly been conquered by the Six Nations, they claim the land; and fhe Snsquehannah Indians are a kind of yassals to them.

from thence, lie lodged with Mr. Beaty, a young presbytehan minister. He speaks of seasons of sweet spiritual refreshment which he enjoyed at his lodgings.

April 20. " Rode with Mr. Beaty to Abington, to attend Mr. Treat^s administration of the sacrament, according to the method of the church of Scotland. When we arrived^ we found Mr. Treat preaching; afterwards I preached a sermon from Matt. v. 3. Blessed are the poor in spirit^ &c. God was pleased to give me great freedom and tenderness, both in prayer and sermon ; the assembly was sweetly melted, and scores were all in tears, ft w.is, as I then hoped, and was afterwards abundantly satisfied by conversing with them, a ^' word spoken in season to many weary souls." I was extremely tired, and my spirits much exhausted, so that I could scarcely speak loud; yet I could not help rejoicing in God.

Lord^s day^ April 21. " In the morning, was calm and composed, and had some thirstings of soul after God in secret duties, and longing desires of his presence in the sanctuary and at his table ; that his presence might be in the assembly ; and that his children might be entertained with a feast of fat things. —In the forenoon, Mr. Treat preached. I felt some aifection and tenderness during the administration of the ordinance. Mr. Beaty preached to the multitude abroad, who could not half have crowded into the meeting-hoiise. In the season of the communion, I had comfortable and sweet apprehensions of the blissful communion of God's people, when they shall meet at their Father^s table in his kingdom, in a state of perfection.—In the afternoon, I preached abroad to the whole assembly, from Rev. xiv. 4. These are they thai follow the Lamb^ &c. God was pleased again to give me very great freedom and clearness, but not so much warmth as before. However, there was a most amazing attention in the whole assembly; and, as I was informed afterwards, this was a sweet season to many.

April 22. " I enjoyed some sweetness in retirement, in the morning. At eleven o'clock, Mr. Beaty preached, with freedom and life. Then I preached from John vii. 37. In the last day^ &c. and concluded the solemnity. Had some freedom; but not equal to what I enjoyed before: yet in the prayer the Lord enabled me to cry, I hope with a child-like temper, with tenderness and brokenness of heart.—Came home with Mr Beaty to his lodgings ; and spent the time, while riding, and afterwards, very agreeably on divine things.

April 23. ''Left Mr. Beaty's and returned home to the Forks of Delaware; enjoyed some sweet meditations on the road ; and was enabled to lift up my heart to God in prayer and praise."

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^ The two next days he speaks of much bodily disorder, but of some degrees of spiritual assistance and freedom.

April 26. " Conversed with a Christian friend with some warmth ; and felt a spirit of mortification to the world, in a very great degree. Afterwards, was enabled to pray fervently, and to rely on God sweetly, for " all things pertaining to life and godliness.^^ Just in the evening, was visited by a dear Christian friend, with whom I spent an hour or two in conversation, on the very soul of religion. There are many with whom I can talk about religion; but alas! I find few with whom I can talk religion itself; but blessed be the Lord there are some that love to feed on the kernel, rather than the shell. ^^

The next day^ he went to the Irish settlement, often before mentioned, about fifteen miles distant; where he spent the Sabbath^ and preached with some considerable assistance.

On Monday^ he returned, in a very weak state to his own lodgings.

" April 30. Was scarce able to walk about, and was obliged to betake myself to bed, much of the day; and passed away the time in a very solitary manner; being neither able to read, meditate, nor pray, and had none to converse with in that wilderness. O how heavily does time pass awav, when I can do nothing to any good purpose; but seem obliged to trifle away precious time! But of late, I have seen it my dntv to divert myself by all lawful means, that I maybe fit, at least some small part of my time, to labour for God. And here is the difference between my present diversions, and those I once pursued, when in a natural state. Then I made a god of diversions, delighted in them with a neglect of God, and drew my highest satisfaction from them. Now I use them as means to help me in living to God; fixedly delighting in Am, and not in them, drawing my highest satisfaction from him. Then they were my ml; now they are only means leading to my all. And those things that are the greatest diversion, when pursued with this view, do not tend to hinder, but promote my spirituality; and I sec now, more than ever, that they are absolutely necessary.

May 1. " Was not able to sit up more than half the day : and yet I had such recruits of strength sometimes, that I was able to write a little on a divine subject. Was grieved that I could no more live to God. In the evening, had some sweet* ness and intenseness in secret prayer.

May 2, " In the evening, being a little better in health, 1

walked into the woods, and enjoyed a sweet season of meditation and prayer. My thoughts ran upon Ps. xvii. 15. 1 shall be satisfied^ when I awdke^ with thy likeness. And it was indeed a precious text to me. I longed to preach to the whole world; and it seemed to me, they must needs all be melted in hearing such precious divine truths, as I then had a view and relish of. My thoughts were exceeding clear, and my

soul was refreshed. Blessed be the Lord, mat in my late

and present weakness, now for many days together, my mind is not gloomy, as at some other times.

May. 3. " Felt a little vigour of body and mind, in the morning; and had some freedom, strength and sweetness in prayer. Rode to, and spent some time with my Indians. In the evening, again retiring into the woods, I enjoyed some sweet meditations on Isa. liii. 1. Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise him^ &c.'"

The three next days were spent in much weakness of body: but yet he enjoyed some assistance in public and private duties: and seems to have remained free from melancholy.

May 7. '^ Spent the day mainly in making preparations for a journey into the wilderness. Was still we&, and concerned how I should perform so difficult a journey. Spent some time in prayer for the divine blessing, airection, and protection in my intended journey; but wanted bodily strength to spend the day in fasting and prayer."

The next day^ he set out on his journey to the Susquehannah, with his interpreter. He endured great hardships and fatigues in his way thither through a hideous wilderness ; where, after having lodged one night in the open woods, he was overtaken vnth a northeasterly storm, in which he was almost ready to perish. Having no manner of shelter, and not being able to make a fire in so great a rain, he could have no comfort if he stopt; therefore he determined to go forward in hopes of meeting with some shelter, without which he thought it impossible to live the night through; but their horses—happening to eat poison, for the want of other food, at a place where they lodged the night before—were so sick, that they could neither ride nor lead them, but were obliged to drive them, and travel on foot; until, through the mercy of God, just at dusk, they came to a bark hut, where they lodged that night. After he came to the Susquehannah, he travelled about a hundred miles on the river, and visited many towns and settlements of the Indians ; saw some of seven or eight tribes, and preached to different nations, by different interpreters. He was sometimes much discouraged, and sunk in his

•

spirits, through the opposition which appeared in the Indians to Christianity. At other times, he was encouraged by the disposition which some of these people manifested to hear, and willingness to be instructed. He here met with some who had formerly been his hearers at Kaunaumeck, and had removed hither; who saw and heard him again with great joy. He spent a fortnight among the Indians on this river, and passed through considerable labours and hardships, frequently lodging on the ground, and sometimes in the open air. At length he felt extremely ill, as he was riding in the wilderness, being seized with an ague, followed with a burning fever, and extreme pains in his head and bowels, attended with a great evacuation of blood; so that he thought he must have perished in the wilderness. But at last coming to an Indian trader^s hut, he got leave to stay there ; and though without physic or food proper for him, it pleased God, after about a week's distress, to relieve him so far that he was able to ride. He returned homewards from Juncauta, an island far down the river; where was a considerable number of Indians, who appeared more free from prejudices against Christianity, than most of the other Indians. He arrived at the Forks of Delaware on Thursday^ May 30, after having rode in this journey about three hundred and forty miles. He came home in a very weak state, and under dejection of mind ; which was a great hinderance to him in religious exercises. However, on the Sabbath, after having preached to the Indians, he preached to the white people, with some success, from Is. liii. 10. Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise him^ cjrc, some being awakened by his preaching. The next day, he was much exercised for want of spiritual life and fervency.

June 4. " Towards evening, was in distress for God's presence, and a sense of divine things: withdrew myself to the woods, and spent near an hour in prayer and meditation; and 1 think, the Lord had compassion on me, and gave me some sense of divine things; which was indeed refreshing and quickening to me. My soul enjoyed intenseness and freedom in prayer, so that it grieved me to leave the place.

June 5, " Felt thirsting desires after God, in the morning. In the evening, enjoyed a precious season of retirement: was favoured with some clear and sweet meditations upon a sacred text; divine things opened with clearness and certainty, and had a divine stamp upon them. My soul was also enlarged and refreshed in prayer; I delighted to continue in the duty; and was sweetly assisted in praying for my fellow-christians, and my dear brethren in the ministry. Blessed be the dear Lord for such enjoyments. O how sweet and precious it is, to have a clear apprehension and tender sense of the mystery of godH* ness^ of true holiness, and of likeness to the best of beings !

O what a blessedness it is, to be as much Hke God, as it is possible for a creature to be like his great Creator! Lord give me more of thy likeness ; ^^ I shall be satisfied, when I awake, with it."

June 6. " Was engaged, a considerable part of the day, in meditation and study on divine subjects. Enjoyed some special freedom, clearness, and sweetness in meditation. O how refreshing it is, to be enabled to improve time well!"

The next dny^ he went a journey of near fifty miles, to Ne-shaminy, to assist at a sacramental occasion, to be attended at Mr. Beaty's meeting-house; being invited thither by him and his people.

June 8. "Was exceedingly weak and fatigued with riding in the heat yesterday: but being desired, I preached in the afternoon, to a crowded audience, fi-om Is. xl. 1. " Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saithyour God." God was pleased to give me great freedom,*^, in opening the sorrows oi God^i people, and in setting before them comforting considerations. And, blessed be the Lord, it was a sweet melting se9.son in the assembly.

Lord^s day^ June 9. " Felt some longing desires of the presence of God to be with his people on the solemn occasion of the day. In the forenoon Mr. Beaty preached; and there appeared some warmth in the assembly. Afterwards, I assisted in the administration of the Lord's supper: and towards the close of it, I discoursed to the multitude extempore, with some reference to that sacred passage, Is. liii. 10. " Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise him." Here God gave me great assistance in addressing sinners: and the word was attended with amazing power; many scores, if not hundreds, in that great assembly, consisting of three or four thousand, were much affected ; so that there was a " very great mourninff, like the mourning of Hadadrimmon."—In the evening, I could hardly look any body in the face, because of the imperifections I saw in my performances in the day past.

June 10. " Preached with a good degree of clearness and some sweet warmth, from Psal. xvii. 15. " I shall be satisfied, vi^hen I awake, with thy likeness." And blessed be God, there was a great solemnity and attention in the assembly, and sweet refreshment among God's people; as was evident then, and afterwards.

June 11. " Spent the day mainly in conversation with dear Christian friends; and enjoyed some sweet sense of divine things. O how desirable it is, to keep company with God's dear children ! These are the " excellent ones of the earth, in whom," I can truly sav, " is all my delight." O what delight

irill it aftbrd, to meet them all in a state of perfection! Lord, )repare me for that state.'^

The next day^ he left Mr. Beaty's and went to Maiden-lead, in New Jersey ; and spent the next seven days in a comfortable state of mind, visiting several ministers m those parts.

June 18. " Set out from New Brunswick with a design to risit some Indians at a place called Crossweeksung^ in New Jersey, towards the sea.* In the afternoon, came to a place callea Cranberry^ and meeting with a serious minister, Mr. Macknight, I lodged there with him. Had some enlargement and freedom in prayer with a number of people.

^ Braiiterd having, when at Boston, written and left with a friend, a brief relation of facts touching his labours with the Indians, and reception among them, daring the space of time between November 5, 1744,'and June 19. 1745, (with a view to connect his VWerra/ive, uddressed to Mr. Pemberton, and hia Joumali in case they should ever be reprinted) concludes the same with this pasage; '* As my body was very feeble, so my mind was scarce ever so much dampied and discouraged about the conversion of the Indians, as at this time. JUid in this state of body and mind I made my first visit to the Indians in New Jersey, where Qod was pleased to display his power and grace in the remarka-"ble manner that I have represented in my printed Journal."

Vol. Xr '^5

CHAPTER VII.

From the commencement of his residence at Crossweekswtg, . to the close of the first part of his Journals

We are now come to that ^art of Braikerd^s life, when he had the greatest success in his labours for the good of soub, and in his particular business as a Missionary to the Indians. Long had he agonized in prayer, and travailed in birth for their conversion. Often had he cherished the hope of witnessing that desirable event; only to find that hope yield to fear, and end in disappointment. But after a patient continuance in prayer, in labour, and in suffering, as it were throu^ a long night, at length he is permitted to behold the dawning of the day. ^' Weeping continues for a night; but joy comes in the morning.^^ He went forth weeping, beanng precioas seed ; and now he comes rejoicing, brmgmg his sheaves with him. The desired event is brought to pass at last; but at a time, in a place, and upon subjects, which scarcely ever entered into his heart.

An account of this was originally published in his Journal ; consisting of extracts from his Diary during one year of his residence at Crossweeksung. Those extracts are now incorporated with the rest of his Diary for the same period in regular chronological order.

The foTlowinff Preface, by the correspondents, introduced the Journal to the notice of its readers, and deserves an insertion in the present volume.

" The design of this publication is to give God the glory of his distinguishing grace, and gratify the pious curiosity of those who are waiting and praying for that blessed time, when the Son of God, in a more extensive sense than has yet been accomplished, shall receive " the Heathen for his inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for a possession.

*' Whenever any of the guilty race of mankind are awakened to a just concern for their eternal interest, are humbled at the footstool of a sovereign God, and are persuaded and enabled to accept the offers of redeeming love, it must always be acknowledged a Wonderful work of divine grace, which demands oTir thankful prniscp. But doubtless it is a more affecting evi-

MEMOIRS OF UKAI.NEK1>. l\)o

dence of almighty power, a more illustrious display of sovereign mercy, when those are enlightened with the knowledge of salvation, who have for many ages dwelt in the grossest darkness and Heathenism, and are brought to a cheenul subjection to the government of our divine Redeemer, who from generation to generation had remained the voluntary slaves of ^^ the prince of darkness/*

'^ This is that delightful scene which will present itself to the

reader^s view, while he attentively peruses the following pages.

Nothing certainlv can be more agreeable to a benevolent and

' religious mind, than to see those that were sunk in the most de-

S^nerate state of human nature, at once, not only renounce ose barbarous customs they had been inured to from their infancy, but surprisingly transformed into the character of real and devout Christians.

^ This mighty change was brought about bv the plain and faithful preaching of me gospel, attended with an uncommon efiiision of the divine Spirit, under the ministry of the Reverend David Brainerd, a Missionary employed by the Honour-Me Society in Scotland, for propoigating Christian Knowledge.

^ And surely it will administer abundant matter of praise and ihanksgicing to that honourable body, to find that their generoos attempt to send the gospel among the Indian nations upon the borders of New Yonc, New Jersey, and Pennsylva-nia, ha» met with such surprising success.

*^ It would perhaps have been more agreeable to the taste ot politer readers, if tfie following Journal had been cast into a different method, and formed into one connected narrative. Bat the worthy author amidst his continued labours, had no time to spare for such an undertaking. Besides, the pious reader will take a peculiar pleasure to see this work described in its native simphcity, and the operations of the Spirit upon the minds of these poor benighted Pagans, laid downjust in the method and order in which they happened. This, it most be confessed, will occasion frequent repetitions; but these, as they tend to give a fuller view of this amazing dispensation of divine grace in its rise and progress, we trust, will oe eairily fiHgiven.

^Wten we see such numbers of the most ignorant and barbaioiis of mankind, in the space of a few months, ^* turned fimn darkness to light, and from the power of sin and Satan nnto God,^ it gives us encourajgement to wait and oray for that blessed time, idien our victorious Redeemer shall, in a more s^nal manner than he has yet done, display the ^ banner of his cross," march on from ^' conquering to conquer, till the kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of our Lord and of his Christ." Yea, we cannot but liflt up our heads with

i

joy, and hope that it may be the dawn of that bright and illus-tnous day, when the Sun of Righteousness shsiil '^ arise and shine from one end of the earth to the other;" when, to use the language of the inspired prophets, *^ the Gentiles shall come to his Hght, and kings to the brightness of his rising;^' in consequence of which, ^^ the wilderness and solitary places shall be glad, and the desert rejoice and blossom as the rose.*' ^' It is doubtless the duty of all, in their different stations, and according to their respective capacities; to use their utr most endeavours to bring forward this promised, this desired day. There is a great want of schoolmasters among these christianized Indians, to instruct their youth in the EngUsh language^ and the principles of the christian faith — ^for this, as yet, there is no certain provision made; if any are inclined to contribute to so good a design, we are persuaded they will do an acceptable service to the ^^ kingdom of the Redeemer/' And we earnestly desire the most indigent to join, at least, in their wishes and prayers, that this work may prosper more and more, till the " whole earth is filled with the glory of the Lord."

" Crossweeksung^ June^ 1745.

June 19. '^ I had spent most of my time, for more than a year past, amqng the Indians at the Forks of Delaware in Pennsylvania. During that time I made two journeys to the Susquehannah to treat with the Indians on that river respecting Christianity ; and, not having had any considerable ap pearance of special success in either of those places, my spirits were depressed, and I was not a little discouraged. Hearing that there were a number of Indians at a place c^led Crossweeksung^ in New Jersey, nearly eighty miles south-east from the Forks of Delaware, I determined to make them a visit, and see what might be done towards christianizing them; and accordingly arrived among them on Wednesday^ June 19th, 1745.

" I found very few persons at the place which I visited, and perceived that the Indians in these parts were very much scattered. There were 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 that place. However, I preached to those few I found ; who appeared well disposed, serious and attentive, and not inclined to cavil and object, as the Indians had 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 should see the man, who had told them what they had done in their past lives, and the misery that attended their idolatrous ways. At night was worn out, and scarcely able to walk, or sit up. O! how tiresome is earth ; how dull the body!

June 20. ^ Visited and preached to the Indians again as I proposed. Numbers were gathered at the invitations of their firiends, who had heard me the day before. These also appeared as attentive, orderly and well disposed as the others : and none made any objections, as Indians in other places have usually done. Towards night preached to the Indians again, and had more hearers than before. In the evening enjoyed some peace and serenity of mind, and comfort and composure in prayer, alone; and was enabled to lift up my head with some degree of joy, under an apprehension that my redemption draws nigh. O ! blessed be God that there remains a rest to his poor weary people !

Time 21. "Rode to Freehold to see Mr. William Tennent, and spent the day comfortably with him. My sinking spirits were a little raised and encouraged ; and I felt my soul breathing after God, in the midst of christian conversation ; and in the evening was refreshed in secret prayer; saw myself a poor worthless creature, without wisdom to direct or strength to help myselfl—O blessed be God, who lays me under a happy, a blessed necessity of living upon himself!

June 22. " About noon rode to the Indians again, and next night preached to them. Found my body much strengthened, and was enabled to speak with abundant plainness and warmth. Their number, which at first consisted of seven or eight persons, was now increased to nearly thirty. There was not only a solemn attention among them, but some considerable impression, it was apparent, was made upon their minds by divine truth. Some began to feel their misery, and perishing state, and appeared concerned for a deliverance from it. The power of God evidently attended the word; so that several 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 their remedy. This was indeed a sweet afternoon to me. While riding, before I came to the Indians, my spirits were refreshed, and my soul enabled to cry to<jod almost incessantly, for many miles together. In the evening, also, I found that the consolations of God were not small. I was then willing to live, and in some respects desirous of it, that I might do something for the dear kingdom of Christ; and yet death appeared pleasant; so that I was in some measure in a strait between two; having a desire to de-

part. I am often weary of this world, and want to leave it on that account; but it is desirable to be drawn, rather than driven out of it.

Lard^s dau^ June 33. ^' Preached to the Indians, and spent the day with them. Their number still increased; and all with one consent, pmed^o rejoice in my coming among them. Not a word < mMserosition was heard from any of them against Christianity, - ough in times past they had been as much opposed to an» thing of that nature, as any Indians whatsoever. Some o^. hem, not many months before, were enraged with my intei* .eter, because he attempted to teach them something of Christianity.

June 24. ^^ Preached to the Indians at their desire, and upon their own motion. 1 see poor Pagans desirous of hearing the gospel of Christ, animated me to discourse to them ; at though 1 was now very weakly, and my spirits much exhausted. They attended with the greatest seriousness and diHgenoe ; and some concern for their souls^ salvation was apparent among them.

June 27. ^^ Visited and preached to the Indians a^ain. Their number now amounted to about forty persons. Then: solemnity and attention still continued, and a considerable concern finr their souls became very apparent among numbers of diem. My soul rejoiced to find, that God enabled me to be faitbfiil, and that he was pleased to awaken these poor Indians by my means. O how heart-reviving and soul refreshing it is to me, to see the fruit of my labours I

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

'^ In the evening, my soul was revived, and my heart lifted up to God in prayer for my poor Indians, myself, and friends, and the dear church of God. O horw refreshing, how sweet was this ! Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not his goodness and tender mercy!

June 29. ^^ Preached twice to the Indians; and could not but wonder at their seriousness, and the strictness of their attention. Saw, as I thought, the hand of God very evidently, and in a manner somewhat remarkable, making provision for their subsistence together, in order to their being instructed in divine things. For this day, and the day before, with only walking a little way from the place of our daily meeting, they killed three deer, which were a seasonable supply for their wants, and without whichj they could not have subsisted

together in order to attend the means of grace. Blessed be God who has inclined their hearts to hear. O how refreshing it is to me to see them attend, with such uncommon diligence and affection, with tears in their eyes and concern in their hearts! In the evening, could not but lift up my heart to God in prayer, while riding to my !'^'1«»'"^'-and, blessed be his name, had assistance and freedoml'^d ?. ^w much better than life is the presence of God ! ' *

jLord*s day^ June 30. " Preached t tfce this day also. Observed yet more concern and affection Hiong the poor Heathens than ever; so that they even co^^rained me to tarry yet longer with them, although my c^^titution was exceedingly worn out, and my health much impaired by my late fatigues and labours; and especially by myfate ibumey to Susquehan-nah in May last, in which I lodged on the ground for several weeks together.

July 1. " Preached again twice to a very serious and attentive assembly of Indians ; they having now learned to attend the worship of God with christian decency in. all respects. There were now between forty and fifty persons of them present, old and young. I spent a considerable time in discoursing with them in a more private way ; inquiring of them what they remembered of the great truths which had been taught them from day to day; and may justly say, it was amazing to see how they had received and retained the instructions given them, and what a measure of knowledge some of them had acquired in a few days.

Jtdy 3. " Was obliged to leave these Indians at Crossweek-sun^, thinking it my duty as soon as my health would admit, agam to visit those at the Forks of Delaware. When I came to take leave of them and to speak particularly to each of them, they all earnestly inquired when I would come again, and expressed a great desire of being further instructed. Of their own accord they agreed, that when I should come again, they would all meet and live together, during my continuance with them; and that they would use their utmost endeavours to gath^ all the other Indians in these parts who wer^* -^* more remote. When I parted from them, on^/d^ apoftryet

many tear,,..'^^he„.wisJbe5 ^i^ would'^k^rTrTem-

S\';k*tf "''*" ^."l*«^ *° fi"^ Christ;" Ind an old mai. for L souf ? tZ ""^ the,r chiefs, wept bitterly with concern hoow! , ,.' . P'o™«ed them to return as speedily as mv

na^nfT ""^ Parting, lest the good impressions, then ap-Cn thr° °"™''^ °^ *'*«™' ™'S'^t d««J^« ^d 'wear S, SS He whn ?f ""Tf ^. l"*^^- Yet I could not but hope

aSd who T^nf ^"^T^^ ^"^ ^^?"" "" g°od "'o* a«»on« them and who, I knew, did not stand in need of means to cany it

on, would maintain and promote it. At the same time, I must confess, that I had often seen encouraging appearances amons the Indians elsewhere, prove wholly abortive, and it appeared that the favour would be too great, if God should now, after I had passed through so considerable a series of almost fruitless labours and fatigues, and after my rising hopes had been so often frustrated among these poor pasans, give me any special success in my labours with them, I could not believe, and scarcely dared to hope, that the event would be so happy; and scarcely ever found myself more suspended between hope and fear in any affair, or at any time, than in this.

'^ This encouraging disposition, and readiness to receive instruction, now apparent among the Indians, seems to have been the happy effect of the conviction which one or two of them met with, sometime since at the Forks of Delaware: who have since endeavoured to show their friends the evil of idolar try. Though the other Indians seemed but little to regard, and rather to deride, them : yet this, perhaps, has put them into a thinking posture of mind, or at least, given them some thoughts about Christianity, and excited in some of them a curiosity to hear; and so made way for the present encouraging attention. An apprehension that this mignt be the case, here, has given me encouragement that God may, in such a manner, bless the means which I have used with the Indians in other places; where, as yet, there is no appearance of it. If so, may his name have the glory of it: for I have learnt, by experience, that he only can open the ear, engage the attention, and incline the hearts of poor benighted, prejudiced pagans to receive instruction.

" Rode from the Indians to Brunswick, nearly forty miles and lodged there. Felt my heart drawn after God in prayer, almost all the forenoon, especially in riding. In the evening, I could not help crying to God for those poor Indians; and, after I went to bed, my heart continued to go out to God for them till I dropped asleep. O, blessed be God, that I may pray !"

_^wns now so fatigued by constant preaching to these T ?*n%sMfiS ^^ ^'^^^'^ importunate desires, that he found it necessSy to^i'^TinJISeffsOT^^ He spent, therefore,

nbout a week in New Jersey, after he left the Indians : visitmg several ministers, and performing some necessary business, De-fore he went to the Forks of Delaware. Though he was weak in body, yet he seems to have been strong in spirit. Uniriaay, July 12, he arrived at his own house in the Forks of Delaware; continuing still free from melancholy; from day to day enjoying freedom, assistance, and refreshment in the inner man. But on Wednesday, the next week, beseems to have had some

melancholy thoughts about his doing so little for God, being so much hindered by weakness of body.

" Forks of Delaware^ in Pennsylvania^ July 1745.

Lord's day^ July 14. " Discoursed to the Indians twice. Several of them appeared concerned, and were, I have reason to think, in some measure convinced by the Divine Spirit, of their, sin and misery; so that they wept much the whole time of divine service. Afterwards, discoursed to a number of white people then present.

July ,18. " Preached to my people, who attended diligently beyond what had been common among these Indians: and some of them appeared concerned for their souls. Longed to spend the little inch of time I have in the world, more for God. Felt a spirit of seriousness, tenderness, sweetness and devotion ; and wished io spend the whole night in prayer and communion with God.

Jtdy 19. '^ In the evening, walked abroad for prayer and meditation, and enjoyed composure and freedom in these sweet exercises, especially in meditation on Rev. iii. 12: ^^Him that overcoBieth, will I make a pillar in the temple of my God.^^ &c. This was^ then a delightful theme to me, and it refreshed my soul to dwell on it. O when shall I go no more out from the service and enjoyment of the dear Redeemer! Lord hasten the blessed day!

Lords day^ July 21. " Preached to the Indians first; then to a number of white people present; and in the afternoon, to the Indians again. Divine truth seemed to make very considerable impressions upon several of them, and caused the tears to flow freely. Afterwards 1 baptized my Interpreter^ and his toife^ who were the first whom I baptized among the Indians.

" They, are both persons of some e^rpenwien^a/knowledge in religion ;* have both been awakened to a solemn concern for their souls; have to appearance, been brought to a sense of their misery, and undoneness in themselves; have both appeared to be comforted with divine consolations; and it is apparent that both have passed a.^reof and I cannot but hope, a saving, change. It may perhaps be satisfactory and agreeable, that I should give some brief relation of this man's exercises and experience, since he has been with me; especially since he is employed as my Interpreter to others. When 1 first employed him in this business, in the beginning of the summer of 1744, he was well fitted for his work, in regard to his acquaintance with the Indian and English languages, as well as with the manners of both nations; and in regard to his desire that the Indians should conform to the manners and customs of the English, and especially to their manner of living.

Vol. X. 26

But he seemed to have little or no impression of religion upon his mind, and in that respect was very tmfit for his work; being incapable of understanding and communicating to others many things of importance, so that I laboured under great disadvantages in addressing the Indians, for want of his havins an experimental^ as well as more doctrinal acquaintance with divine truths; and, at times, my spirits sunk, and were much discouraged under this difficulty; especially when 1 observed that divine truths made little or no impressions upon his mind for many weeks together. He indeed behaved soberly after I employed him ; although before, he had been a hard arinker ; and seemed honestly engaged, as far as he was capable, in the performance of his work. Especially he appeared very desirous that the Indians should renounce their heathenish notions and

«

Practices, and conform to the customs of the christian world, iut still he seemed to have no concern about his own soul, until he had been with me a considerable time.

" Near the latter end of July, 1744,1 preached to an assembly of white people, with more freedom and fervency than I oould possibly address the Indians with, without their having first obtained a greater measure of doctrinal knowledge. At this time he was present, and was somewhat awakened to a concern for his soul; so that the next day, he discoursed freely with me about his spiritual concerns, and gave me an opportunity to use further endeavours to fasten the impressions of his perishing state upon his mind. I could plainly perceive, for some time after this, that he addressed the Indians with more concern mid fervency than he had formerly done.

" But these impressions seemed quickly to decline; and be, remained^ in a great measure, careless and secure, until some time late in the autumn of the year following; when he fell into a weak and languishing state of body; and continued much disordered for several we^s together. At this season, divine truth took hold of him, and made deep impressions upon his mind. He was brought under great concern for his soul; and his exercises were not now transient and unsteady, but constant and abiding, so that his mind was burdened from day to day; and it was now his great inquiry, " What he should do to be saved ?" This spiritual trouble prevailed, until his sleep, in a great measure, departed from him, and he had little rest day or night; but walked about under great pressure of mind, for he was still able to walk, and appeared like another man to his neighbours, who could not but observe his behaviour with wonder. After he had been some time under this exercise, while he was striving to obtain mercj^, he says there seemed to be an impassable mountain before him. He was pressing towards heaven, as he thought; but " his way was hedged up with thorns, so that he could not stir an inch further." He look-

ed tliis way and that way, but could find no way* at all. He thought if he could but make his way through these thorns and briers, and climb up the first steep pitch of the mountain, that then there might be hope for him; but no way or means could he find to accomplish this. Here he laboured for a time, but all in vain. He saw it was impossible^ he says, for him ever to help himself through this insupportable difficulty. " It signified just nothing at all for him to struggle and strive anymore." Here, he says, he gave over striving, and felt that it was a gone case with him, as to his own power, and that all his attempts were, and for ever would be, vain and fruitless. Yet he was more calm and composed under this view of things, than he had been while striving to help himself.

" While he was giving me this account of his exercises, I was not without fears, that what he related was but the working of his own imagination^ and not the effect of any divine illumtna-tion of mind. But, before I had time to discover my fears, he added, that at this time he felt himself in a miserable and perishing condition: that he saw plainly what he had been doing all his days; and.that he had never done one good things as he expresses it He knew he was not guilty of some wicked actions, of which he knew some others guilty. He had not been accustomed to steal, quarrel, and murder; the latter of which vices is common among the Indians. He likewise" knew that he had done many things that were right; he had been kind to his neighbours, &c. " But still, his cry was, that he had never, done one good thing,'*'* "I knew," said he, "that I had not been so bad as some others in some things; and that I had done many things which folks call good"; but all this did me no good now. I saw that all was bad, and that I had never done one good thing;". meaning that he had never done any thing from a right principle, and with a right view^ though he had, done many thmgs that were materially good and right. " And now, I thought," said he, " that I must sink down to hell; that there was no hope for me, because I never could do any thing that was good :" and if God let me alone ever 4S0 long, and. I should try ever so much, still I should do nothing but what is bad."

" This further account of his exercises satisfied me, that it was not the mere working of, his imagination; since he appeared so evidently to die to himself, and to be divorced from a dependence upon his own righteousness, and good deeds, to which mankind, in a fallen state, are so much attached ; and upon which they are so ready to hope for salvation,

" There was one thing more in his view of things at this time, which was very reniarkable. He not only saw, he says, what a miserable st^te he himself was in, but he likewise saw that the world around him^ in general, were in the same perish^

ing circumstances, notwithstanding the profession which many of them made of Christianity, and the hope which they entertained of obtaining everlasting happiness. This he saw clearly, as if he was now waked out of sleep, or had a cloud taken from his eyes." He saw that the life which he had lived was the way to eternal death, that he was now on the brink of endless misery; and when he looked around he saw multitudes of others, who had lived the same life with himself, persons who had no more goodness than he, and yet dreamed that they were safe enough, as he had formerly done. He was fully persuaded, by their conversation and behaviour, that they had never fell their sin and misery, as he now felt his.

" After he had been for some time in this condition, sensible of the impossibility of helping himself by any thing which he could do, or of being delivered by any created arm ; so that he had " given up all for lost," as to his own attempts, and was become more calm and composed; then, he says, it was borne in upon his mind, as if it had been audibly spoken to him, " There is hope, there is hope." Whereupon his soul seemed to rest, and he in some measure satisfied, though he bad no considerable joy.

" He cannot here remember distinctly any views he had of Christ, or give any clear account of his soul's acceptance of him, which makes his experience appear the more doubtful, and renders it less satisfactory to himself and others than it might be, if he could remember distinctly the apprehensions and actings of his mind at this season.—But these exercises of soul were attended and followed with a very great change in the man ; so that it might justly be said he was become another man^ if not a new man. His conversation and deportment were much altered ; and even the careless world could not but wonder what had befallen him, to make so great a change in his temper, discourse, and behaviour. Especially there was a surprising alteration in his public performances. He now addressed the Indians with admirable fervency, and scarcely knew when to leave off. Sometimes, when I had concluded my discourse and was returning homeward, he would tarry behind to repeat and inculcate what had been spoken.

" His change is abiding^ and his life, so far as I know, unblemished to this day; though it is now more than six months since he experienced this change ; in which space of time he has been as much exposed to strong drink as possible, in divers places where it has been moving as free as water; and yet has never, that I know of, discovered any hankering desire after it He seems to have a very considerable experience of spiritual exercise^ and discourses feelingly of the conflicts and consolations of a real Christian. His heart echoes to the soul-humbling doctrines of grace, and he never appears better pleased

MEMOIRS OF BRAINERD. '205

than when he hears of the absolute sovereignty of God^ and the salvation of sinners in a way of mere free grace. He has lately had also more satisfaction respecting his own state ; and has been much enlightened and assisted in his work; so that he has been a great comfort to me.

" After a strict observation of his serious and savoury conversation, his christian temper, and unblemished behaviour for such a length of time, as well as his experience, of which I have given an account; I think that I have reason to hope Jhat he is " created anew in Christ Jesus to good works." His name is Moses Finda Fautaury. He is about fifty years of age, and is pretty well acquainted with the pagan notions and customs of his countrymen ; and so is the better able now to expose them. He has, I am persuaded, already been, and I trust will yet be, a blessing to the other Indians.

July 23. ^^ Preached to the Indians, but had few hearers: Those who of late are constantly at home, seem, of late, to be under some impressions of a religious nature.

July 26. " Preached to my people, and afterwards baptized my interpreter^ children. In the evening, God was pleased to help me in prayer, beyond what I have experienced for some time. Especially, my soul was drawn out for the encouragement of Christ^s kingdom, and for the conversion of my poor people; and my soul relied on God for the accomplishment of that great work. 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 angePs vigour and delight! Yet how willing was I to stay awhile on earth, that I might do something, if the Lord pleased for his interest in the world. My soul, my very soul, longed for the ingathering of the poor Heathen; and I cried to God most willingly and heartily. I could not but cry. This was a sweet season; for I had some lively taste of Heaven, and a temper of mind suited in some measure to the employments and entertainments of it. My soul was grieved to leave the place; but my body was weak and worn out, and it was nearly nine o'clock. I longed that the remaining part of life might be filled up with more fervency and activity in the things of God. O the inward peate, composure^ and god-like serenity of such a frame! Heaven must diiSer from this only in degree, not in kind. Lord ! ever.give me this bread of life.

Lwtl^s day, July 28. " Preached again, and found my people, at least some of them, more thoughtful than ever about their souPs concerns. I was told by some, that their seeing my interpreter, and others, baptized, made them more concerned than any thing they had ever seen or heard before. There was, incleed, a considerable appearance of divine power among

them, while the ordinance was administered. May that divine influence spread and increase more abundantly!

" In the evening, my soul was melted, and my heart broken, with a sense of past barrenness and deadness.—O how I then longed to live to God, and bring forth much fruit to his glory I

July 29. "Was much exercised with a sense of vileness, with guilt and shame, before God.

" Discoursed to a number of my people, and gave them some particular advice and direction; bemg now about to leave t&em, for the present, in order to renew my visit to the Indians in New-Jersey. They were very attentive to my discourse^ and , earnestly desirous to know when I designed to return to them again.^'

On Wednesday^ July 31, he set out on his return to Cr<^8-weeksung, and arrived there the next day. In his way thither, he had longing desires, that he might come to the Indians there in the fulness of the blessing of the gospel of Christ, attended with a sense of his own great weakness, dependence, and worthlessness.

(;

Crossweeksung^ {New-Jersey^) August, 1745.

August 2. " In the evening, I retired, and my soul was drawn out in prayer to God ; especrally for my poor people, to whom I had sent word that they might gather together, that I mi^ht preach to them the next day. I was much enlarged in praymg for their saving conversion ; and scarcely ever fouiid my desires of any thing of this nature so sensibly and clearly, to nay own satisfaction, disinterested, and free from selfish views. It seemed to me I had no care, or hardly any desire, to be the instrument of so glorious a work as I wished and prayed ff>r among the Indians. If the blessed work might be accomplished to the honour of God, and the enlargement of the dear Redeemer's kingdom ; this was all my desire and care; and for this mercy I Hoped, but with trembling; for I felt what Job expresses, chap, ixtb, 16th, " If I had called, and he had answered me, yet would I not believe that he had hearkened unto my voice." My rising hopes, respecting the conversion of the Indians, have been so often dashed, that my spirit is, as it were, broken, and my courage wasted, and I hardly dare hope. I visited the Indians in these parts in June last, and tarried with them a considerable time, preaching almost daily: at which season, God was pleased to pour upon them a spirit of awakening, and concern for their souls, and surprisingly to engage their attention to divine truths. I now found them serious, and a number of them unddr deep concern for an interest in Christ. Their convictions of their sinful and perishing state were, in

MEMO IKS OF BBAINERD. 007 •

my absence from them^ much promoted by the labours and endeavours of Rev. William Tennent ; to whom I had advised ihem to apply for direction; and whose house they frequented much while 1 was gone. I preached to them this day with some view to Rev. xxii. 17. " And whosoever will, let him take of the water of life freely;" though I could not pretend to handle the subject methodically among them. The Lord, I am persuaded, enabled me, in a manner somewhat uncommon, to set before them the Lord Jesus Christ as a kind and compassionate S£^viour, inviting distressed and perishing sinners to accept everlasting mercy. A surprising concern soon became apparent among them. There were about twenty adult persons together; many of the Indians, at remote places, not having, as yet, had time to come since my return hither; and not above two that I could see with dry eyes.

"Some were much concerned, and discovered vehement longinffs of soul after Christ, to save them from the misery they felt and feared.

Ldrd*s day, Aug. 4. " Being invited by a neighbouring minister, to assist in the administrati6n of the Lord^s supper, I complied with his request, and took the Indians along with me; not only those who were together the day before, but many more who were coming to hear me; so that there were nearly fifly in all, old and young. They attended the several discourses of the day; and, some of them, who could understand English, were much affected; and all seemed to have .their concern in some measure raised.

" Now a change in their manners began to appear very visible. In the evening, when they came to sup together, they would not take a morsel until they had sent to me to come and supplicate a blessing on their food; at which time, sundry df them wept; especially when I reminded 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 preache3 by another minister, I preached, and concluded the public work of the so* lemnity from John viith, 37th. In the last day, &c. ; and, in my discoiu^e, addressed the Indians in particular, who sat in a . part of the house by themselves ; at which time, one or two of them were'struck with deep concern, as they afterwards told me, who had been little affected before ; and others had their concern increased to a considerable" degree. In the evening, the greater part of them being at the house where I lodged, I discoursed to them; and found them universally engaged about their souls* concerns; inquiring "what they should do to be saved." All their conversation among themselves, turned upon religious matters, in which they were much assisted by my Interpreter, who was with them day and night, •

^^ This day there was one woman, who had been much concerned for her soul ever since she first heard me preach, in June last, who obtained comfort, I trust, solid and well grounded. She seemed to be filled with love to Christ At the same time she behaved humbly and tenderly, and appeared afraid of nothing so much as of oiSending and grieying him whom her soul loved.

Aug. 6. ^^ In the morning I discoursed to the Indians at the house where we lodged. Many of them were much aJBfected, and appeared surprisingly tender ; so that a few words about the concerns of their souls would cause the tears to flow fi'eely, and produce many sobs and groans.—In the. afternoon, they being returned to the place where I had usually preached among them, I again discoursed to them there. There were about ffty-jive persons in all;. about jfor^y that were capable of attendmg Divine service with understanding. I insisted on 1 John ivth, 10th. Herein is love^ d*c. They seemed eager of hearing; but there appeared nothing very remarkable, except their attention, till near the close of my discourse ; and then Divine truths were attended with a surprising influence, and produced a great concern among them. There were scarcely three in forty who could refrain from tears and bitter cries. They all as one seemed in an agony of soul to obtain an interest in Christ; and the more I discoursed of the love and compassion of God in sending his Son to suffer for the sins of men ; and the more I invited them to come and partake of his love ; the more their distress was aggravated, because they felt themselves unable to come. It was surprising to see how their hearts seemed to be pierced with the tender and melting invitations of the gospel, when there was not a word of terror spoken to them.

" There was this day two persons who obtained relief and comfort; which, when I came to discourse with them particularly, appeared solid, rational and scriptural. After I nad inquired into the grounds of their comfort, and said many things which I thought proper to them ; I asked them what they wanted that God should do farther for them ? They replied, " they wanted Christ should wipe their hearts quite clean," &c. So surprising were now the doings of the Lord, that I can say no less of this day, and I need say no more of it, than that the arm of the Lord was powerfully and marvellously revealed in it.

Aug. 7. " Preached to the Indians from Is. liii, 3—10. There was a remarkable influence attending the. word, and great concern in the assembly; but scarcely equal to what appeared the day before ; that is, not quit so universal. However, most were much affected, and many in great distress for their souls; and .some few could neither go nor stand, but lay

flat on the ground as if pierced at heart, crying incessantly for xnercy. Several were newly awakened ; and it was remarka-l>le that, as fast as they came from remote places round about, the Spirit of God seemed to seize them with concern for their souls. After public service was concluded, I found two persons more who had newly met with comfort, of whom I had ^ood hopes ; and a third, of whom I could not but entertain some hopes, whose case did not appear so clear as the others; so that there were now six in all, who had got some relief from their spiritual distresses; and five, whose experience appeared very clear and satisfactory. It is worthy of remark, that those who obtained comfort first, were in general deeply affected with concern for their souls, when I preached to them in June last.

Aug. 8. " In the afternoon I preached to the Indians, their number was now about sixty-Jive persons; men, women and children. I discoursed upon Luke xiv. 16—^23, and was &voured with uncommon freedom in my discourse. There was much visible concern among them, while I was discoursing publicly; but afterwards, when I spoke to one and another more particularly, whom I perceived under much concern, the power of God seemed to descend upon the assembly " like a mighty nishing tvind^'*'' and with an astonishing energy bore down all before it. I stood amazed at the influence, which seized the audience almost universally ; and could compare it to nothing more aptly, than the irresistible force of a mighty torrent or swelhng deluge, that with its insupportable weight and pressure bears down and sweeps before it whatever comes in its way. Almost all persons of all ages were bowed down with concern together, and scarcely 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. It was apparent that these children, some of them at least, were not merely frightened with seeing the general concern; but were made sensible of their danger, the badness of their hearts, and their misery, without Christ, as some of them expressed it. The most stubborn hearts were now obliged to bow. A principal man among the Indians, who before was most secure and self-righteous, and thought his state good, because he knew more than the generality of the Indians had formerly done; and who with a great degree of confidence the day before told me '^ he had been a Christian more than ten years;" was now brought under solemn concern for his soul, and wept bitterly. Another man advanced in years, who had been a murderer, a pawaw or conjurer, and a* notorious drunkard, was likewise brought now to cry for

Vol. X. 27

mercy with many tears, and to complain much that he coii]d be no more concerned when he saw his danger so Tery great.

^^ They were almost universally praying and crying for mercy in every part of the house, and many out of doors; and numbers could neither go nor stand. Their concern was so great, each one for himself, that none seemed to take any notice of those about them, but each prayed freely fot himself. I am led to think they were, to their own apprehetlsions, as much retired as if they had been individually oy themselveg, in the thickest desert; or I believe rather that they thought nc^ thing about any thing but themselves, and their own state, and so were every one praying apart, although all together. It seemed to mo that there was now an exact fulfilment of diat prophecy, Zech. xiith, 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 re* semblance to the day of God^s power, mentioned Josh, xtlh 14; for I must say I never saw any day like iu in all respects: it was a day wherein I am persuaded the Lord did tnnch to destroy the kingdom of darkness among this people.

^^This concern, in general, was most rational and just* Those who had been awakened any considerable time, complained more especially of the badness of their hearts ; add those who were newly awakened, of the badness of their Iwes * 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 *^ thi9 babbler would say" to the poor ignorant Indians, were much awakened; and some appeared to be wounded with a view of their perishing state. Those who had lately obtained relief, were filled with comfort at this season. They appeared calm and composed, and seemed to rejoice in Chnst Jesus. Some of them took their distressed friends by the hand, telling them of the goodness of Christ, and the comfort that is to be enjoyed in him; and thence invited them to come and give up their hearts to him. I could observe some of them, in the most honest and unaffected manner, without any design of being taken notice of, lifting up their eyes to heaven, as if crying for mercy, while they saw the distress of the poor souls around them. There was one remarkable instance of awakening this day which I cannot fail to notice here. A young Indian woman, who, I believe, never knew before that she had a soul, nor ever thought of any such thing, hearing that there was something strange among the Indians, came, it seems, to see what was the matter. In her way to the Indians she called 9X my lodgings ; and when 1 told her that I designed presently to preach to the Indians, laughed, and seemed to mock; but went nowever to them. I had not proceeded far in my pabUo dis-

course before she felt effectually that she had a soul; and, before I had concluded my discourse, was so convinced of her sin and misery, and so distressed with concern for her douPs salvation, that she seemed like one pierced through with a dart, and cried out incessantly. She could neither go nor stand, nor sit on her seat without being held up. After public service was over, she lay flat on the ground, praying earnestly, and would take no notice of, nor give any answer to, any who spoke to her. I hearkened to hear what she said, and perceived the burden of her prayer to be, ^^ Cruttummaukcdummeh wechaumeh kmeleh Nolah^'*^ L e. ^^ Have mercy on me^ and kelp me to give you mu heart,^^ Thus she continued praying incessantly for many nours together. This was indeed a surprising day of God's power, and seemed enough to convince an Atheist of the truUi, importance, and power of God's word.

Aug.9. *^Spent silmostthe whole day with the Indians; the former part of it in discoursing to many of them privately, «md especially to some who had lately received comfort, and eoMleavouring to inquire into the grounds of it, as well as to give them some proper instructions, cautions and directions.

^ In the afternoon discoursed to them publicly. They were now present about seventy persons, old and young. I opened and applied the parable of the sower. Matt. xiii. W as enabled to discourse with much plainness, and found afterwards that this discourse was very instructive to them. There were many tears among them, while I was discoursing publicly, but no considerable crv; yet some were much aflScted with a few words spoken vom Matt. xii. 28. Come unto me aU ye that labour^ &C. with which I concluded my discourse. But, while I was discoursing near night to two or three of the awakened persons, a Divine influence seemed to attend what was spoken to them in a powerful manner; which caused the persons to cry out in anguish of soul, although I spoke not a word of terror; but on the contrary, set before them the fulness and all-sufficiency of Christ's merits, and his willingness to save all that come to* him, and thereupon pressed them to come without delay. The cry of these was soon heard by others, who, though scattered before, immediately gathered round. I then proceeded in the same strain of gospel-invitation, till they were {dl 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 little more than a ruffle nuufe in their passions the day before, seemed now to be deeply affected and wounded at heart; and the concern in general appealed neiu'ly as prevalent as it was the day before. There was indeed a very great mourning among them, and yet every one seemed to mourn apart. For so peat was their concern, that afaiost every one was praying and crying for himself, as if

none had been near. ^^ Guttummauhalummeh ; guUum$nau/ialum-meh^'* i. e. " Have mercy upon me ; heme mercy upon me ; was the common cry. It was very affectuig to see the poor Indiaosr who the other day were hallooing and yelling in their {dola-trous feasts and drunken frolics, now ciying to God with such importunity for an interest in his dear Son!—Found two or three persons who, I had reason to hope, had taken comfort upon good grounds since the evening before; and these, with others who had obtained comfort, were toffether, and s^emBd to rejoice much that God was carrying onliis work with such power upon others.

Aug. 10. ^^Rode to the Indians, and began to discourse more privately to those who had obtained comfort and satia* faction ; endeavouring to instruct, direct, caution, and comfort them. But others, being eager of hearing everv word which 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 tilings, and earnestly desirous to be with Christ. I told them of the godly soul^s perfect purity, and full enjoyment of Christ, immediately upon its separation from the body; and that it would be inconceivably more happy than they had ever been for any short space of time, when Christ seemed near to them in prayer or other duties. That I might make way for speaking of the resurrection of the body, and thence of the complete Uesaed-ness of the man; I said, ^^ But perhaps some of you will say, I love my body as well as my soul, and I cannot.bear to think that my body shall lie dead, if my soul is happy." To which they all cheerfully replied, " Muttoh^ Muttoh ;" before I had opportunity to prosecute what I designed respecting the resurrection ; i. e. " No^ NoJ*"* They did not regard their bodies^ if their souls might be with Christ.—Then they appeared willing to be absent from the body, that they might be present with the Lord.

" When I had spent some time with them, I turned to tlie other Indians, and spoke to them from Luke xix. 10. For the son of man is come to seek, (fee. I had not discoursed long, before their concern rose to a great degree ; and the house was filled with cries and groans. When I insisted on the compassion and care of the Lord Jesus Christ for those that were lost, who thought themselves undone, and could find no way of escape ; this melted them down the more, and aggravated their distress, that they could not find and come to so kind a Saviour.

" Sundry persons, who before had been slightly awakened, were now deeply wounded with a sense of their sin and'misery. One man in particular, who was never before awaken^, was now made to feel that " the word of the Lord was quick and

powerful, and sharper than any two edged sword.'* He seemed to be pierced at heart with distress; and his concern appeared most rational and scriptural, for he said that ^^ all the wicked* ness of his past life was brought fresh to his remembrance, and that he-saw all the vile actions he had done formerly, as if done but yesterday."

" Fojund one who had newly received comfort, after pressing distress from day to day. Could not but rejoice, and admire the Divine goodness in what appeared this day. There seems to be some good done by every discourse; some newly awakened eveiy day, and some comforted. It was refreshing to observe the conduct of those who obtained comfort; while others were distressed with fear and concern ; that is lifting up their hearts to God for them.

Lord*s day^ Aug. 11. " Discoursed in the forenoon from the parable of the prodigal son^ Luke xv. Observed no such remarkable effect of the word upon the assembly as in days past. There were numbers of careless spectators of the white people, some Quakers and others. In the afternoon, discoursed upon a part of ,St. Peter's sermon. Acts ii. and at the close of my discourse to the Indians, made an address to the white people ; and divine truths seemed then to be attended with power, both to English and Indians. Several of the white heathen were awakened, and could not longer.be idle spectators; but found they had souls to save or lose as well as the Indians; and a great concern spread through the whole assembly. So that this also appeared to be a day of God's power, especially towards the conclusion of it, although the influence attending the word seemed scarcely so powerful now as in days past.

" The number of Indians, old and young, was now upwards of seventy ; and one or two were newly awakened this day, who never had appeared to be moved with concern for their souls before. Those who had obtained relief and comfort, and had given hopeful evidences of having passed a saving change, appeared humble and devout, and behaved in an agreeable and Christian-like manner. I was refreshed to see the tenderness of conscience manifest in some of them ; one instance of which I cannot but notice. Perceiving one of thein very sorrowful in the morning, I inquired into the cause of her sorrow, and found the difficulty was, that she had been angry with her child the evening before, and was now exercised with fears, lest her anger had been inordinate and sinful; whicli 50 grieved her, that she waked and began to sob before da}-light, and continued weeping for several hours together.

August 14. " Spent the day with the Indians. There was one of them, who had, some time since, put away his wife, a^ is common amongst, them, and taken .another woman; and, being now brought under some serious impressions, was much

.concerned about that affair in particular, and seemed lolly con-rvinced of the wickedness of the practice, and earnestly desired to know what God would have him to do in his present cir* cumstances. When the law of God respecting mamagej had been opened to them, and the cause of his leaving his wife inquired into; and when it appeared that she had given biai no just occasion, by unchastity, to desert her, and that she was willing to forgive his past misconduct and to live peaceaUy with him for tne future, and that she moreover insisted on it as her riglu to live with him; he was then told, that it was his in* dispensable duty to renounce the woman whom he had last ta* ken, and receive the other, who was his proper wife, and live peaceably with her during life. With this, he readily and cheerfully complied; and, thereupon, publicly renounced the woman he had last taken, and publicty promised to live with and be kind to his wife during me ; she, also, promising the same to him. Here appeared a dear demonstration of the power of God^s word upon their hearts. 1 suppose a few weeks before, the whole world could not have persuaded thb man to a compliance with Christian rules in this affair.

^^ I was not without fears that this proceeding might be like putting ^^ new wine into old bottles ;^^ and that some mi^ht be prejudiced against Christianity, when they saw the demaiids made by it. But, the man being much concerned about the matter, the determination of it could be deferred no longer; and it seemed to have a cood rather than an ill effect among the Indians; who generally owned that the laws of Christ were good and right, respecting the affairs of marriage. In the afternoon, I preached to them from the apostle^s discourse lo Cornelius, Acts xth, 34th, &c. There appeared some affectionate concern among them, though not equal to what appeared in several of the former days. They still attended and heard as for their lives, and the Lord's work seemed still to be promoted and propagated among them.

Aug. 15. " Preached from Luke ivth, 16—^21. ^^ And be came to Nazcureth^^'* &c. The word was attended with power upon the hearts of the hearers. There was much concera, many tears, and affecting cries among them: and some, in a peculiar manner, were deeply wound^ and distressed for their souls. There were some newly awakened who came but this week, and convictions seemed to be promoted in others. Those who had received comfort, were likewise refreshed and strengthened ; and the work of grace appeared to advance in all respects. The passions of the congregation in general were not so much moved, as in some dajrs past; but their hearts seemed as solemnly and deeply affected with divine truths as ever, at least in many instances, although the concern

did not seem so universal, and to reach every individual in such a manner as it appeared to do some days before.

Aug. 16. ** Spent a considerable time in conversing with sundry of the Inoians. Found one who had got relief and comfort after pressing concern; and could not but hope, when I came to discourse particularly with her, that her comfort was of the right kind, in the afternoon, I preached to them from John vL. 36—34. Toward the close of my discourse, divine truths were attended with considerable power upon the audience; and more especially after public service was over, when I particularly addressed sundry distressed persons.

^ There ivas a great concern for their souls spread pretty generally among them; but especially there were two persons oewlv awakened to a sense of their sin and misery; one of whom was lately come, and the other had all along been very attentive and desirous of being awakened, but could never before have wf lively view of her perishing state. Now her concern and gpintual distress was such, that 1 thought 1 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 cryni£ aloud; and their bitter groans were the most convincing as well as affecting evidence of the reality and depth of their inward anguish. God is powerftiUy at work among them. Thie and genuine convictions of sin are daily promoted in many instances; and some arie newly awakened from time to time ; although some few, who felt a commotion in their pas-sums in days past, seem now to discover, that their hearts were never duly arocted. I never saw the work of God appear so independent of means, as at this time. I discoursed to the people, and spake what I simpose had a proper tendency to promote convictions; but God^s manner of woiking upon them, seemed so entirely supernatural, and above means, that I could scarcely believe he used me as an instrument, or what I spake as means of carrying on his work. For it appeared, as 1 thought, to have no connexion with, or depenaence on means, in any respect. Though I could not but continue to use the means, winch I thought proper for the promotion of the w<Mfk, yet God seemed, as I apprehended, to worii entirely without them. I seemed to do nothing, and, indeed, to have nothing to do, but to ^^ stand stiU, aiKl see the salvation of Crod ;*' and found myself obliged and delighted to sav, *^ Not ohto os,'^ not unto instruments and means, ^ but to thy name be glory/* God appeared to work entirely alone, and I saw no room to attribute any part of this work to any created arm.

Agg. 17. *^ Spent much time in private conferences with the Indians. Found one who had newly obtained rdief and comfort, after a long season of spiritual trouble and distress;—^he

Hia MEMOIRS OF BRAINERD.

having been one of my hearers at the Forks of Delaware for more than a year, and now having followed me here under deep concern for his soul;—and had abundant reason to hope that his comfort was well grounded, and truly divine. Afterwards discoursed publicly from Acts viiith, 29—39; and took occasion to treat concernmg baptism^ in order to their being instructed and prepared to partake of that ordinance. They were yet hungry and thirsty for the word of God, and appeared unwearied in their attendance upon it.

Lord*8 day, Aug, 18. ^^ Preached in the forenoon to an assembly of white people, made up of Presbyterians, Baptists, Quakers, &c. Afterwards preached to the Indians, from John vi. 35—40, He that eateth my flesh, &c. There was considerable concern visible among them, though not equal to what has frequently appeared of late.

Aug. 19. "Preached from Isa. Iv. 1. Ho every one that thirsteth. Divine truths were attended with power upon those who had received comfort, and others also. The Ibnner sweetly melted and refreshed with divine invitations ; the latter much concerned for their souls, that they might obtain an interest in these glorious gospel provisions which were set before them. There were numbers of poor impotent souls that waited at the pool for healing ; and the luigel seemed, as at other times of late, to trouble the waters, so that there was yet a most desirable and comfortable prospect of the spiritual recovery of diseased perishing sinners. Near noon, I rode to Freehold, and preached to a considerable assembly, from Matt. V. 3. Blessed are the poor in spirit, &c. It pleased God to leave me to be very dry and barren; so that I do not remember to have been so straightened for a whole twelvemonth past. God is just; and he has made me to acquiesce in his will in this respect. It is contrary to flesh and blood to be cut oflF from all freedom in a large auditory, where their expectations are much raised; but so it was with me: and God helped me to say amen to it. Good is the will of the Lord. In the evening I felt quiet and composed, and had freedom and comfort in secret prayer.

-Am2-. 20. " Was composed and comfortable, still in a re-sighed frame. Travelled from Mr. Tennent's, in Freehold, to Elizabeth Town. Was refreshed to see friends and relate to them what God had done and was still doing among my poor people.

Aug. 21. " Spent the forenoon in conversation with Mr. Dickinson, contriving something for the settlement of the Indians together in a body, that they might be under better advantages for instruction. In the afternoon spent some time agreeably with other friends ; wrote to my brother at college ; but was grieved that time slid away, while I did so little for God.

Atig. 23. " In the morning was very weak, but favoured with s^me freedom and sweetness in prayer, was comfortable and €M>mposed in mind. Afternoon, rode to Crossweeksung to my poor people.

*'Spent some time with the Indians in private discourse; and afterwards, preached to them from John vi. 44—50. No man can come to me, except &c. There was, as has been usual, a great attention and some affection among them. Several appeared deeply concerned for their souls, and could not but express their inward anguish by tears and cries. But the amazing divine influence, which has been so powerfully among them in general, seems at present in some degree abated; at least, in regard to its universality ; though many who have obtained no special comfort, still retain deep impressions of divine things.

Aug. 24. " Spent the forenoon in discoursing to some of the Indians in order to their receiving the ordinance of baptism. When I had opened the nature of the ordinance, the obligations attending it, the duty of devoting ourselves to God in it, and the privilege of being in covenant with him; numbers of them seemed to be filled with love to God, delighted with the thoughts of giving themselves up to him in that solemn and public manner, and melted and refreshed with the hopes of enjoying the blessed Redeemer. Afterwards, I discoursed publicly from 1 Thess. iv. 13—17. But I would not have you be ignorant, &c. There was a solemn attention, and some visible concern and affection in the time of public service; which was afterwards increased by some further exhortations given to them to come to Christ, and give up their hearts to him, that they might be fitted to ^^ ascend up and meet him in the air,^^ when he shall ^^ descend with a shout, and the voice of the archangel."

" There were several Indians newly come, who thought their state good, and themselves happy, because they had sometimes lived with the white people under gospel light, had learned to read, were civil, &c., although they appeared utter strangers to their hearts, and altogether unacquamted with the power of religion, as well as with the doctrines of grace. With these I discoursed particularly after public worship; and was surprised to see their self-righteous dispositions, their strong attachment to the covenant of works for salvation, and the high value they put upon their supposed attainments. Yet amr much discourse, one appeared in a measure convinced that " by the deeds of the law no flesh living can be justified;" and wept bitterly, inquiring what he must do to be saved.

This was very comfortable to others, who had gained some experimental knowledge of their own hearts; for, before, they were grieved with the conversation and conduct of these new

comers, who boasted of their knowledge, and thought well of themselves, but evidently discovered to those who had any experience of divine truths that they knew nothing of their own hearts.

Lord's day^ Aug. 25. ^^ Preached in the forenoon from Luke XT. 37. A number of white people being present, I made an address to them at the close of my discourse to the Indians ; but could not so much as keep them orderly ; for scores of them kept walking and gazing about, and behaved more indecently than any Indians I have ever addressed. A view of their abusive conduct so sunk my spirits, that I could scarcely go on with my work.

^* In the afternoon discoursed from Rev. iii. 20; at which time the Indians behaved seriously, though many others were vain. Afterwards baptized twenty-five persons oi the Indians; fifteen adults and ten children. Most of the adults, I have comfortable reason to hope, are renewed persons; and there was not one of them but what I entertained some hopes of in that respect; though the case of two or three of them ap* peared more doubtnil.

^^ After the crowd of spectators was gone, I called the bap* tizcd persons together, and discoursed to them in particular; at the same time inviting others to attend. I reminded them of the solemn obligations they were now under to live to God ; warned them of the evil and dreadful consequences of careless living, especially after their public profession of Christianity ; gave them directions for future conduct; and encouraged them to watchfulness and devotion, by setting before tliem the comfort and happy conclusion of a religious life.

" This was a desirable and sweet season indeed ! Their hearts were engaged and cheerful in duty ; and they rejoiced that they had, in a public and solemn manner, dedicated themselves to God. Love seemed to reign among them! They took each other by the hand with tenderness and affection, as if their hearts were knit together, while I was discoursing to them ; and all their deportment towards each other was such, that a serious spectator might justly be excited to cry out with admiration, " Behold how they love one another'^ Numbers of the other Indians, on seeing and hearing these things, were much affected, and wept bitterly; longing to be partakers of the same joy and comfort, which these discovered by their very countenances as well as conduct. I rode to my lodgings in the evening, blessing the Lord for his gracious visitation of the Indians, and the soul-refreshing things I had seen the day

f)ast among them ; and praying that God would still carry on lis divine work among them.

Aug. 26. " Preached to my people from John vi. 51—55." After I had discoursed some time, I addressed them in par-

ticular, who entertained hopes that they were passed from death unto life. Opened to them the persevering nature of those consolations which Christ gives his people, and which I trusted he had bestowed upon some in that assembly; showed them that such have already the beginnings of eternal life, and that their heaven shall speedily be completed.

**I no sooner begun to discourse in this strain, than the dear Christians in the congregation began to be melted with affection to,\nd desire of the enjoyment of Christ, and of a state of perfect purity. They wept affectionately, yet joyfully ; and theur tears\nd sobs discovered brokenness of heart, and yet were attended' with real comfort and sweetness. It was a tender, affectionate, humbTe -and delightful meeting, and appeared to be the genuine effect of a spirit of adoption, and very far from that spirit of bondage under which they not long since laboured. The influence seemed to spread from these through the whole assembly; and there quickly appeared a wonderful concern amons them. Many, who had not yet found Christ as an allnsumcient Saviour, were sur-

{>risingly engaged in seeking after him. It was indeed a ovely and very interesting assembly. Their number was now about mnety-jive persons, old and young, and almost all affected with joy in Christ- Jesus, or with the utmost concern to obtain an interest in him.

** Being now convinced that it was my duty to take a journey far back to the Indians on the Susquehannah, it being now a proper season of the year to find them generally at home ; after naving spent some hours in public and private discourse with my people, I told them that I must now leave them for the present, and go to their brethren far remote, and preach to them; that I wanted the spirit of God should go with me, without whom nothing could be done to any good purpose among the Indians—as they themselves had opportunity to see and observe by the barrenness of our meetings at sometimes, when there was much pains taken to affect and awaken sinners, and yet to little or no purpose, and asked them if they could not be willing to spend the remainder of the day in prayer for me, that God would go with me, and succeed my endeavours for the conversion of these poor souls. They cheerfully complied with the motion, and soon afler I left them, the sun being about an hour and a half high at night, they began and continued praying till break of day, or very near: never mistrusting as they tell me, till they went out and viewed the stars, and saw the morning star a considerable height, that it was later than bed time. Thus eager and unwearied were they in their devotions ! A remarkable nijjht it was; attended, as my interpreter tells me, with a powerful influence upon those who were yet under concern, as well as those who had received comfort.

These were, I trust, this day, two distressed souls brought to the enjoyment of solid comfort in him whom the weary find rest. It was likewise remarkable, that this day an old Indian, who had all his days been an 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. This was done without any attempt of mine in the affair, 1 having said nothing to him about it, so that it seemed to be 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 surprizingly carried on a work . of grace amongst these Indians. May the glory be ascribed to him who is the sole author of it.

" 1 went from the Indians to my lodgings, rejoicing for the goodness of God to my poor people; and enjoyed freedom of soul in prayer, and other duties in the evening. Bless the Lord, O my soul!

The next day, he set out on a journey towards the Forks of Delaware, designing to go from thence to Susquehannah, be^ fore he returned to Crossweeksung. It was five days from his departure from Crossweeksung, before he reached the' Fork* { gomg round by the way of Philadelphia, and waiting on the Governor of Pennsylvania, to get a recommendation from him to the Chiefs of the Indians; which he obtained. He speaks of much comfort and spiritual refreshment, in this journey, and also, a sense of his exceeding unworthiness, thinking himself the meanest creature that ever lived.

((

Forks of Delaware^ in Pennsylvania^ Sept. 1745.

Lord*s day^ Sept. 1. " Preached to the Indians from Luke xi. 16—23. The word appeared to be attended with some power, and caused some tears in the assembly. Afterwards preached to a number of white people present, and observed manv of them in tears; and some who had formerly been careless and unconcerned about religion, perhaps, as the Indians. Towards night, discoursed to the Indians again, and perceived a greater attention, and more visible concern among them, than has been usual in these parts. God gave me the spirit of prayer, and it was a blessed season in that respect. My soul cried to God for mercy, in an affectionate manner. In the evening also, my soul rejoiced in God.

Sept. 3. *'Preached to the Indians from Isaiah lii. 3—6. He is despised and rejected of men^ &c. The Divine presence seemed to be in the midst of the assembly, and a considerable concern spread among them. Sundry persons seemed to bej-awakened; among whom were two stupid creatures, whom I

could scarce ever before keep awake while 1 was discoursing to them. I could not but rejoice at this appearance of things; altbou^ at the same time, I could not but fear, lest the concern which they at present manifested, might prove like ''a morning cloud, as something of that nature had formerly done in these parts.

8qpf. 4. " 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 nrst prayer, and much freedom as well as warmth in the sermon. There were many tears in the assembly; the people of Crod seemed to melt; and others seemed to be in some measure awakened. Blessed be the Lord, who lets me see'his work going on in one place and another !

Sept. 5. " Discoursed to the Indians from the parable of the sower. Afterwards I 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. I doubt not but that a divine power accompanied what was then spoken* Several of these persons had been with me to Cross-weeksnuF: and there had seen and some of them I trust,/eZ/, the power of God^s word, in an affecting and saving manner. I asked one of them, who had obtained comfort and given hopeful evidences of being truly religious, " Why he now cried ?" He replied, '^ When he thought how Christ was slain like a lamb, and spilt his blood for smners, he could not help crying, \riien he was alone ;^* and thereupon burst into tears, and cried again. I then asked his wife who had likewise been abundantly comforted, why she cried ? She answered, '' that she was grieved that the Indians here would not come to Christ, as wen as those at Crossweeksunff.^* I asked her if she found a heart to pray for them; and whether Christ had seemed to be near her of late in prayer, as in times past; which is my usual method of expressing a sense of the divine presence. She replied ^ yes, he had been near to her, and at times when she had been praying alone, her heart loved to pray so, that she could not bear to leave the place, but wanted to stay and pray longer.*^

Sgtf. 6. *^ Enjoyed some freedom and intenseness of mind, in prayer alone; and longed to have my soul more warmed with divme and heavenly things. Was somewhat melancholy towards night, and longed to die and quit a scene of sin and darkness, but was a little supported in prayer.

8q^t. 7. ^^ Preached to the Indians from John vi. 35—39. There was not so much the appearance of concern among them as at several other times of late; yet they appeared serious and attentive.

:232 MEMOIRS OF BRAINERD.

Lord*B day^ SepU 8. ^^ Discoursed to the Indians in the after-' noon from Acts ii. 36—39. The word of God at this time seemed to fall with weight and influence upon them. There were but few present; but most that were, were in tears; and several cried out in distressing concern for their souls. There was one man considerably awakened, who never before discoveiefl any concern for his soul. There appeared a remarkable work of the Divine Spirit among them generally, not unlike whatiuMi been of late at Crossweeksung. It seemed as if the divine iB-fluence had spread thence to this place ; although something qf it appeared here before in the awakening of my interpreter, Jiii wife, and some few others. Several of the careless white people now present, were awakened or at least startled, seeing the power of God so prevalent among the Indians. I then maden particular address to them, which seemed to make some impression upon them, and excite some affection in them.

^^ There are sundry Indians in these parts, who have alwajfi refused to hear me preach, and have been enraged against those who have attended on my preaching. But of late they are more bitter than ever; scoffing at Chnstianity, and sometimes asking my hearers, '^ How often they have cried,** and "Whether tney have not now cried enough to do their tum,^ i&c. So that they have already trial of cruel working.

" In the evening, God was pleased to assist me m pnnrer, and give me freedom at the throne of grace. I cried to God for the enlargement of his kingdom in the world, and in particular among my dear people; was also enabled to pray for many dear ministers of my acquaintance, both in these parts, and in New England, and also for other dear friends in New England. My soul was so engaged and enlarged in the sweet exercise, that I spent an hour in it, and knew not how to leave the mercy seat. O how I delighted to pray and cry to God ! I saw that God was both able and willing to do all that I desired for myself, and his church in general. I was likewise much enlarged, and assisted in family prayer. Afterwards when I was just going to bed, God helped me to renew my petition, with ardour and freedom. O it was to me a blessed evening of prayer! Bless the Lord, O my soul.

SepU 9. " Left the Indians at the Forks of Delaware, and set out on a journey towards Susquehannah river; directing my course towards the Indian town more than a hundred aiAi twenty miles westward from the Forks. Travelled about fifteen miles, and there lodged.

" Shaumoking^ Sept. 1745.

Sept. 13. " After having lodged out three nights, arrived at the Indian town I aimed at on the Susquehannah, called Shaft-

mokiiig; one of the places and the largest of them which I visited in May last. I was kindly received, and entertained bjr the Indians; but had Uttle satisfaction by reason of the heathenish dance and revel they then held in the house where r was obliged to lodge; which I could not suppress, though 1 often entreated them to desist, for the sake of one of their own iiiends who was then sick in the house, and whose disorder was much aggravated by the noise. Alas! how destitute of natnral affection are these poor uncultivated Pagans! althousb ther seem somewhat kind in their own way. Of a truth the dafk comers of the earth are full of the habitations of cruelty. "nuB town, as I observed in my diary of May last, lies partly on the east side of the river, partly on the west, and partly on a lai^ island in it; and contains upwards of fifty houses, and nearly three hundred persons, though I never saw much more than half that number in it. They are of three different tribes of Indians, speaking three languages wholly unintelligible to each other. About one half of its mhabitants are Delawares ; the otiiers called Senakas and Tutelas, The Indians of this place, are accounted the most drunken, mischievous, and ruffianlike fellows, of any in these parts; and Satan seems to have his seat in this town in an eminent manner.

Sept. 14. ^^ Visited the Delaware King; who was supposed to be at the point of death when I was here in May last, but was now recovered; discoursed with him and others, respecting Christianity ; spent the afternoon with them; and had more encouragement than I expected. The King appeared kindly disposed, and willing to be instructed. This gave me some encouragement, that God would open an effectual door for my 5 reaching the gospel here, and set up his kingdom in this place. %i8 was a support and refreshment to me in the wilderness, a:nd rendered mj solitary circumstances comfortable and pleasant. In the evenm^, my soul was enlarged, and sweetly engaged in prayer; especially that God would set up his kingdom in this

flace, where the devil now reigns in the most eminent manner. was enabled to ask this for God, for his glory, and because I longed for the enlargement of his kingdom, to the honour of his dear name. I could appeal to God with the greatest freedom, that it was his dear cause, and not my own, which engaged my heart 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 forever that thou art God, and that thou wilt glorify thyself. O that the whole world would glorify thee! O let these poor people be brought to know thee, ana love thee, for the glory of thy ever dear blessed name.'' I could not but hope, that God would bring in these miserable, wicked Indians; though there appeared little human probability of it v

an MEMOIRS OF BRAINfiRD.

for they were then dancioff and revelling, as if possessed by the devil. But yet I hoped, though against hope, that God would be glorified, and that his name would be glorified by these poor Indians. I continued long in prayer and praise to God, and had great freedom, enlargement, and sweetness; rememberiog dear friends in New-England, as well as the people of m charge. Was entirely free from that dejection of spirit, witQ which I am frequently exercised. Blessed be God I .

Lard's dav^ Sept. 15. " Visited the chief of the Delawara again; was kindly received by him, and discoursed to the Indians in the afternoon. Still entertained hopes that God wovld open their hearts, to receive the gospel; though many of them in the place, were so drunk, from day to day, that I could ge^ no opportunity to speak to them. Towards night, discouned with one who understood the languages of the Six NaitcUt as they are usually called; who discovered an inclination to hearken to Christianity, which gave me some hopes that the gospel might hereafter be sent to those nations far remote.

Sept 16. '^ Spent the forenoon with the Indians, endeavouring to instruct them from house to house, and to engage them, as far as I could, to be friendly to Christianity. Towards ni^t, went to one part of the town, where they were sober, got t^e-ther near fifty of them, and discoursed to them; having fist obtained the king^s cheerfiil consent There was a surprisiDg attention among them, and they manifested a consideraole desire of being further instructed. There were, also, one or two wlio seemed to be touched with some concern for their souls, who appeared well pleased with some conversation in private, after 1 had concluded my public discourse to them.

" My spirits were much refreshed with this appearance of things, 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, where Satan now reigns in the most eminent manner; and found uncommon freedom in addressing the throne of grace for the accomplishment of so great and glorious a work.

Sept. 17. " Spent the forenoon in visiting and discoursing to the Indians. About noon, left Shaumoking (most of the Indians going out this day on their hunting design) and traveled down the river south-westward.

Sept. 19. " Visited an Indian town, called Ji/ncau/a, situate on an island in the Susquehannah. Was much discouraged with the temper and behaviour of the Indians here; although they appeared friendly when I was with them the last spring, and then gave me encouragement to come and see them again. But they now seemed resolved to retain their pagan notions, and persist in their idolatrous practices.

Sept 20. *^ Visited the Indians again at Juncauta island, and found them almost universally ver}* busy in making preparations for a great sacrifice and dance. Had no opportunity to get them together, in order to discourse with them about Christi-anitjTf by reason of their being so much engaged about their sacrifice. My spirits were much sunk with a prospect so very discooraging; and especially seeing I had now no interpreter but a pagan, who was as much attached to idolatry as any of them; my own interpreter having left me the day before, being obliged to attend upon some important business elsewhere, and knowing that he could neither speak nor understand the language of these Indians ; so that I was under the greatest disadvantages imaginable. However, I attempted to discourse privately with some of them, but without any appearance of success: notwithstanding I still tarried with them.

" In the evening they met together, nearly a hundred of them, and danced around 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 easily have been heard two miles or more. They continued their sacred dance nearly all night, after which they ate the flesh of the sacrifice, and so retired each one to his own lodging.

•* I enjoyed little satisfaction ; being entirely alone on the isladd as to any Christian company, and in the midst of this idolatrous revel; and having walked to and fro till body and mind were pained and much oppressed, I at length crept int^ a little crib made for corn, and there slept on the poles.

Lord*8 datfy Sept. 21. " Spent the day with the Indians on the island. As soon as they were well up in the morning, I attempted to instruct them, and laboured for that purpose to

$t them together; but soon found they had something else to lo, for near noon they gathered togetner all their powows, or conjurers, and set about half a dozen of them playing their juggling tricks, and acting their frantic distracted postures, in order to find out why they were then so sickly upon the island, numbers of them being at that time disordered with a fever and bloody flux. In this exercise they were engaged for several hours, making all the wild, ridiculous and distracted motions imaginable; sometimes singing ; sometimes howling; sometimes extending their hands to the utmost stretch, and spreading aU their fingers,—they seemed to push with them as if they designed to push something away, or at least keep it ofi* at arm^-end; sometimes stroking their faces with their hands, then spirting water as fine as mist; sometimes sitting flat on the earth, then bowing down their faces to the ground ; then

Vol. X. 29 ^

wringing their sides as if in pain and anguish, twisting their faces, turning up their eyes, grunting, puffing, &c.

^^ Their monstrous actions tended to excite ideas of horror, and seemed to have something in them, as I thought, peculiarhr suited to raise the devil, if he could be raised bv any thing odd, ridiculous, and frightful. Some of them, I could observe, were much more fervent and devout in the business than others, and seemed to chant, peep, and mutter with a great degree of warmth and vigour, as if determined to awaken and engage the powers below. I sat at a small distance, not more than thirty feet from them, though undiscovered, with my bible in my hand, resolving, if possible, to spoil their sport, and prevent their receiving any answers from the infernal world, and there viewed the whole scene. They continued their hideous charms and incantations for more than three hours, until they had all wearied themselves out; although they had in that space of time taken several intervals of rest, and at length broke up, I apprehended, without receiving any answer at all.

^^ After they had done powawing, I attempted to discourse with them about Christianity; but they soon scattered, and gave me no opportunity for any thing of that nature. A view of these things, while I was entirely alone in the wilderness, destitute of the society of any one who so much as ^^ named the name of Christ,^^ greatly sunk my spirits, and gave me the most gloomy turn of mind imaginable, almost stripped me of all resolution and hope respectmg further attempts for propagating the gospel, and converting the Pagans, and rendered this the most burdensome and disagreeable Sabbath which I ever saw. But nothing, I can truly say, sunk and distressed me like the loss of my hope respecting their conversion. This concern appeared so great, and seemed to be so much my own, that I seemed to have nothing to do on earth, if this failed. A prospect of the greatest concern in the saving conversion of souls under gospel-light, would have done little or nothing towards compensating for the loss of my hope in this respect; and my spirits now were so damped and depressed, that I had no heart nor power to make any further attempts among them for that purpose, and could not possibly recover my hope, resolution, and courage, by the utmost of my endeavours.

" The Indians of this island can many of them understand the English language considerably well; having formerly lived in some part of Maryland, among or near the white people; but are very drunken, vicious, and profane, although not so savage as those who have less acquaintance with the English. Their customs, in various respects, differ from those of the other Indians upon the river. They do not bury their dead in a common form, but let their flesh consume above ground, in

MEMOIRS OF BRAIKERI). )til

close cribs made for that purpose. At the end of a year, or sometimes a longer space of time, they take the bones when the flesh is all consumed, and wash and scrape them, and afterwards bury them with some ceremony. Their method of charming or conjuring over the sick, seems somewhat difierent from that of other Indians, though in substance the same. The whole of it among these and others, perhaps, is an intimation of what seems, by Naaman's expression, 2 Kings, v. 11. to have been the custom of the ancient heathen. It seems chiefly to consist in their " striking their hands over the dis-cflwed," repeatedly stroking them, ^and calling upon their gods;'*'* except the spirting of water like a mist, and some other frantic ceremonies common to the other conjurations which I have already mentioned.

" When I was in this region in May last, I had an opportunity of learning many of the notions and customs of the Indians, as weU as observing many of their practices. I then travelled more than an hundred and thirty miles upon the river, above the English settlements; and, in that journey, met with indivi-duids oi seven or eight distinct tribes, speaking as many difierent languages. But oi all the sights 1 ever saw among them, or indeed any where else, none appeared so frightful, or so near akin to what is usually imagined oi infernal powers^ none ever excited such images of terror in my mind, as the appearance of one who was a devout and zealous reformer, or rather, restorer of what he supposed was the ancient religion of the Indians. He made his appearance in his pontifical garb which was a coat of hoar 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, the other half 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 towards me with the instrument in his hand, which he used for music in his idolatrous worship ; which was a dry tortoise shell with some com in it, and the neck of it drawn on to a piece of wood, which made a very convenient handle. As he came forward, he beat his tune with the rattle, and danced with all his might, but did not sufier any part of his body, not so much as his fingers, to be seen. No one would have imagined from his appearance or actions, that he could have been a human creature, if they had not had some intimation of it otherwise. When he came near me, I could not but shrink away from him, although it was then noon day, and I knew who it was ; his appearance and gestures were so prodigiously frightful. He had a house consecrated to religious uses, with divers images cut upon the several parts of it. I went in, and found the ground beat almost as hard as a rock, with their frequent dancing upon '*.

ggk' xuftMias or beainerd.

I discoursed with him about Christianity. Some of my discourse he seemed to like, but some of it he disliked extremely, - He told me that God had taught him his religion, and that he never would turn from it; but wanted to find some who would join heartily with him in it; for the Indians, he said, were grown very degenerate and corrupt. He had thoughts, he said^ of leaving all his friends, and travelling abroad, in order to find some who would join with him; for he believed that God had* some good people somewhere, who felt as he did. He had not always, he said, felt as he now did; but had formerly been like the rest of the Indians, until about four or five years before that time. Then, he said, his heart was very much distressed, so that he could not live among the Indians, but got away into the woods, and lived alone for some months. At length, he says, God comforted his heart, and showed him what he should do; and since that time he had known God, and tried to serve him; and loved all men, be they who they would, so as he never did before. He treated me with unconunon courtesy, and seemed to be hearty in it. I was told by the Indiana, that he opposed their drinking strong liquor with all his power; and that, if at any time he could not dissuade them from it by all he could say, he would leave them, and go crying into the woods. It was manifest that he had a set of religious notions which he had examined for himself and not taken for granted^ upon bare tradition; and he relished or disrelished whatever was spoken of a religious nature, as it either agreed or disagreed with his standard. While I was discoursing, he would some* times say, "Now that I like; so God has taught me;" &c. and some of his sentiments seemed very just. Yet he utterly denied the existence of a det'iZ, and declared there was no such creature known among the Indians of old times, whose religion he supposed he was attempting to revive. He likewise told me, that departed souls all went southioard^ and that the difie-rence between the good and the bad, was this : that the fov-mer were admitted into a beautiful town with spiritual waUs; and that the latter would for ever hover around these wails, in vain attempts to get in. He seemed to be sincere, honest, and conscientious in his own way, and according to his own religious notions; which was more than I ever saw in any other Pagan. I perceived that he was looked upon and derided among most of the Indians, as a precise zealot^ who made a needless noise about religious matters; but I must say that there was something in his temper and disposition, which looked more Uke true religion, than any thing I ever observed amongst other heathens.

But alas ! how deplorable is the state of the Indians upon this river! The brief representation which I have here given of their notions and manners, is sufficient to show that they are

Med captive by Satan at his will," in the most eminent manner; and methinks might likewise be sufficient to excite the compassion, and engage the prayers, of pious souls for these their'fellow-men, who sit " in the region of the shadow of death."

S^t. 22. " Made some further attempts to instruct and Chris* tianize 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 of the ill examples of nonttViaZ Christians; which renders it so unspeakably difficult to treat with them about Christianity."

Brainerd left these Indians on the 23d of September, to return to the Forks of Delaware, in a very weak state of body, and under great dejection of mind, which continued the two first days of his journey.

Sept, 25. " Rode still homeward. In the forenoon, enjoyed freedom and intenseness of mind in meditation on Job xlii. 5,6. " I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear, but now mine eyeseeth thee; wherefore I abhor myself and repent in dust and ashes*" The Lord gave me clearness to penetrate into the sweet truths contained in that text. It was a comfortable and sweet season to me.

Sept. 26. " Was still much disordered in body, and able to ride but slowly. Continued my journey, however. Near night, arrived at the Irish settlement, about fifteen miles from mine own house. This day, while riding, I was much exercised with a sense of my barrenness; and verily thought there was no creature who had any true grace, but what was more spiritual and faithful. I could not think that any of God^s children made so poor a hand of living to God.

Sqfft, 27. " Spent a considerable time in the morning-in prayer and praise to God. My mind was somewhat intense in the duty; and my heart, in some degree, warmed with a sense of divine things. My soul was melted to think that ^^ God had accouilted me faithful, putting me into the ministry." My soul was also, in some measure, enlarged in prayer for the dear people of my charge, as well as for other dear friends. Afternoon, visited some christian friends, and spent the time I think profitably; my heart was warmed and more engaged in the things of God. In the evening I enjoyed enlargement, warmth and comfort in prayer: my soul relied on God for as^ sistance and grace to enable me to do something in his cause: my heart was drawn out in thankfulness to God for what be had donQ for his own glory among my poor people of late. I felt encouraged to proceed in his work; bemg persuaded of his power, and hoping that his arm might be further revealed for

the enlargement of his dear kingdom. My soul ^' rejoiced in hope of the glory of God,'^ in hope of the advancement of his declarative glory in the world, as well as of enjoying him in a world of glory. O, blessed be Gody the living (xod^for ever^^"*

He continued in this comfortable sweet frame of mind the two next days. On the following day, he went to his own house in the Forks of Delaware, and continued still in the same frame. The next day, Tuesday, he visited the Indians.

*' Forks of Delaware^ Oct. 1745.

Oct. 1. '^ Discoursed to the Indians here, and spent some time in private conference with them about their souls* con* cerns, and afterwards invited them to accompany, or if not, to follow me to Crossweeksung as soon as they could conveniently; which invitation numbers of them cheerfully accepted.

Wednesday he spent principally in writing the meditations h^ had in his late journey to the Susquehannah. On Thursday he left the Forks of Delaware, and travelled towards Crossweeksung, where he arrived on Saturday^ Oct. 5; and continued from day to day in a comfortable state of mind.

" Crossweeksung^ Oct, 1745.

Oct. 5. " Preached to my people from John xiv. 1—6. The divine presence seemed to be in the assembly. Numbers were affected with divine truths, and it was a comfort to some in particular. O'what a difference is there between these, and the Indians with whom I have lately treated upon the Susquehannah! To be with those seemed to be like being banished from God and all his people; to be with these, like being admitted into his family, and to the enjoyment of his divine presence f How great is the change lately made upon numbers of those Indians, who, not many months ago, were as thoughtless and averse to Christianity as those upon the Susquehannah; and how astonishing is that grace, which has made this change !

Lord'^s day^ Oct. 6. " Preached in the forenoon from John X. 7—II. There was a considerable melting amonff my people ; the dear young Christians were refreshed, comforted and strengthened ; and one or two persons newly awakened.—In the afternoon I discoursed on the story of the jailer. Acts xvi. and in the evening, expounded Acts xx. I—12. There was at this time a very agreeable melting spread throughout **»«

whole assembly. I think I scarce ever saw a more desirable affection in any number of people in my life. There was scarcely a dry eye to be seen among them; and yet nothing boisterous or unseemly, nothing that tended to disturb the public worship ; but rather to encourage and excite a christian ardour and spirit of devotion.—Those, who I have reason to hope were seriously renewed, were first affected, and seemed to rejoice much, but with brokenness of spirit and godly fear. Their exercises were much the same with those mentioned in my journal of Aug. 26, evidently appearing to be the genuine effects of a spirit of adoption.

" After public service was over, I withdrew, being much tired with the labours of the day ; and the Indians continued praying among themselves for nearly two hours together; which continued exercises appeared to be attended with a blessed quickening influence from on high. I could not but earnestly wish that numbers of God^s people had been present at this season to see and hear these things which I am sure must refresh the heart of every true lover of Zion's interest. To see those, who were very lately savage Pagans and idolaters, having no hope, and without God in the world, now filled with a sense of divine love and grace, and worshipping the Father in spirit and in truth, as numbers have appeared to do, was not a little affecting; and especially to see them appear so tender and humble, as well as lively, fervent, and devout in the divine service.

Oct 7. " Being called by the church and people of East-Hampton, on Long-Island, as a member of a council to assist anid advise in affairs of difficulty in that church, I set out on my journey this morning before it was well light, and travelled to Elizabethtown, and there lodged. Enjoyed some comfort on the road in conversation with Mr. William Tennent, who was sent for on the same business.^'

Bbainerd prosecuted his journey with the other ministers who were sent for, and did not return till Oct. 24. While he was at East-Hampton, the importance of the business, on which the council were convened, lay with such weight on his mind, and he was so concerned for the interests of religion in that place, that he slept but little for several nights successively. In his way to and from East-Hampton, he had several seasons of sweet refreshment; wherein his soul was enlarged jaxkd comforted with divine consolations in secret retirement; and he had special assistance in public ministerial performances in the house of God ; and yet at the same time a sense of extreme vileness and unprofitableness. From time to time he speaks of soul refreshments and comfort in conversation with the ministers who travelled with him, and seems to

Jiave little or nothing of melancholy until he came to the west end of Lon^-Island m his return. After that he was oppressed with dejection and gloominess of mind for several aays together.

" Crossweeksung^ Oct. 1745.

Oct. 24. " Discoursed from John iv. 13, 14. There was a great attention, a desirable affection, and an unaffected mel^ ing in the assembly. It is surprising to see how eager they are to hear the word of God. I have oftentimes thought that they would cheerfully and diligently attend divine worship twenty-four'hours together, if they had an opportunity so to do.

Oct. 25. " Discoursed to my people respecting the Resurrection, from Luke xx. 27—36. When I came to mention tiie blessedness which the godly shall enjoy at that season; their final freedom from death, sin and sorrow; their equaJity to the angels in their nearness to and enjoyment of Christ, some imperfect degree of which they are favored with in the present life, from whence springs their sweetest comfort; and their being the children of God, openly acknowledged by him as such:—1 say, when I mentioned these things, numbers of them were much affected and melted with a view of this blessed state.

Oct. 26. ^^ Being called to assist in the administration of the Lord's supper in a neighbouring congregation, I invited my people to go with me. They in general embraced the opportunity cheerfully; and attended the several discourses of this solemnity with diligence and affection, most of them now understanding something of the English language.

Lord^s day^ Oct. 27. " While I was preaching to a vast assembly of people abroad, who appeared generally easy and secure enough, there was one Indian woman, a stranger, who never heard me preach before, nor ever regarded any thing about religion, being now persuaded by some of her friends to come to meeting, though much against her will, was seized with distressing concern for her soul; and soon after expressed a great desire of going home, more than forty miles distant, to call her husband, that he also might be awakened to a concern for his soul. Some others of the Indians appeared to be affected with divine truths this day. The pious people of the English, numbers of whom I had opportunity to converse with, seemed refreshed with seeing the Indians worship God in that devout and solemn manner with the assembly of his people; and with those mentioned in Acts xi. 18, they could not but glorify God, saying, " Then hath God also to the Gentiles granted repentance unto life."

** Preached again in the afternoon, to a great assembly: at which time some of my people appeared affected; and, when public worship was over, were inquisitive whether there would not be another sermon in the evening, or before the sacramental solemnity was concluded; being still desirous to hear GodV word*

Oct. 28. " Discoursed from Matt. xxii. 1—13. I was enabled to open the scriptures, and adapt my discourse and expression to the capacities of my people, I know not howi in a plam, easy, and familiar manner^ beyond all that I could have done by the utmost study: and this without any special difficulty; yea with as much freedom as if I had been addressing a common atldi-ence, who had been instructed in the doctrines of Christianitv all their days. The word of God, at this time^ seemed to fall upon the assembly with a divine power and influence, especially towards-the close of my discourse : there was both a sweet melting and bitter mourning in the audience. The dear Christians were refreshed and comforted, convictions revived in others, and several persons newly awakened, who had never been with us heforn. So much of the divine presence appeared in the assembly, that it seemed ' this was no other than the house of God and the gate of heaven/ AU, who had any savour and relish of divine things, were even constrained by the sweetness of that season to say, ^^ Lord, it is good for us to be here :*' If ever there was among my people an appearance of the New Jerusalem, " as a bride adorned for her husband,^^ there was much of it at this time ; and so agreeable was the entertainment, where such tokens of the divine presence were^ that I could scarcely be willing in the evening to ieave the place and repair to my lodgings. I was refreshed with a view of the continuance of this blessed work of grace among them, and with its influence upon strangers among the Indians, who had of late, from time to time, providentially come into this part of the countr}^ Had an evening of sweet refreshing j my thoughts were raised to a blessed eternity; my soul was melted f¥ith desires of perfect holiness, and of perfectly glorifying God.-

Cht, 29* " About noon^ rode and viewed the Indian lands at Cranberry: was much dejected, and greatly perplexed in mind: knew not how to see any body again ; my soul was sunk within nae* Oh that these trials might make me more humble ancT holy. Oh that God would keep me from giving way to sinful' dejection, which may hinder my usefulness.

Oct. 30. « My soul was refreshed with a view of the continu-uice of God^s blessed work among the Indians.

Oct, 3L **^Spent most of the day in writing; enjoyed not nucb spiritual comfort; but was not so much sunk with me^ fancholy as atpther times^

Vol, X, 30

Nov. 1. ^' Discoursed from Luke xxiv. briefly explaimng the whole chapter, and insisting especially upon some particuki passages. The discourse was attended with some anectionate concern upon some of the hearers, though not equal to what has often appeared among them.

Nov. 2. " Spent the day with the Indians; wrote some things of importance; and longed to do more for God than I did, or could do, in this present feeble and imperfect state.

Lord^s day^ Nov. 3. " Preached to my people from Luke xvi. 17. " And it is easier for heaven and earth," &c. more especially for the sake of several lately brought under deep concern for their souls. There was some apparent concern and afiection in the assembly; though far less than has been usual of late.

*^ Afterwards, I baptized/ot/rteen persons of the Lidians: »x adults, and eight children. One of these was nearly foursoore vears of a^e; and, I have reason to hope, that God has brought her savingly home to himself. Two of the others were men of fifty years old, who had been singular and remarkable among the Indians for their wickedness; one of them had been a mar derer, and both notorious drunkards, as well as excessively q|iuu> relsome; but now I oonnot but hope, that both of them have become sul^ects of God^s special grace, especially the worst of them."* I deferred their baptism for many weeks afler they had given evidence of having passed a great change, that I might have more opportunities to observe the fruits of the impressions which they had been under, and apprehended the way was now clear. There was not one of the adults whom I baptized^who had not given me comfortable grounds to hope, that God had wrought a work of special grace in their hearts; although I could not have the same degree of satisfaction respecting one or two of them as the rest.

Nov. 4. " Discoursed from John xi. briefly explaining most of the chapter. Divine truths made deep impressions upon many in the assembly. Numbers were affected with a view of the power of Christ manifested in his raising the dead; and especially vvhen this instance of his power was improved to show his ability to raise dead souls, such as many of them then felt themselves to be, to a spiritual life; as, also, to raise the dead at the last day, and dispense to them true rewards and punishments.

« There were numbers of those who had come here lately from remote places, who were now brought under deep and pressing concern for their souls. One in particular, who, not long since, came half drunk, and railed on us, and attempted by all means

* The man particularly mentioned in mv journal of August 10, as being then

awalcen^cl.

to disturb us while engaged in divine worship, was now so con-, cemed and distressed for her soul, that she seemed unable to get any ease without an interest in Christ. There were many tears and affectionate sobs and groans in the assembly in general; some weeping for themselves, others for their friends. Although • 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 I must s^, that their affection in general appeared genuine and unfeigned; and, especially, this appeared very conspicuous in those newly awakened. So that true and genuine convictions of sin seem still to be begun and promoted in many instances.

" Baptized a child this day, and perceived numbers of the baptized persons affected with the administration of this ordinance, as being thereby reminded of their own solemn engage-ments.

" I have now baptized in all forty-seven of tha Indians; twenty-three adults, and twenty-four children; thirty-five of them belonged to this region, and the rest to the Forks of De»» laware. Through rich grace, none of them, as yet, have been left to disgrace tneir profession of Christianity, by any scandalous or unbecoming behaviour.

^ *' I might now properly make many remarks on a work of grace, so very remarkable as this has been in various respects; but shall confine myself to a few general hints only.

"1. It is remarkable, that God began this work among the Indians at a time when I had the least hope, and, to my apprehension, the least rational prospect of sceinff a work of grace propagated among them: my bodily strength being then much wasted by a late tedious journey to the Susquehannah, where I was necessarily ejxposed to hardships and fatigues among the Indians: my mind being, also, exceedingly depressed with a view of the unsuccessfulness of my labours. I had little reason so much as to hope, that God had made me instrumental in the saving conversion of any of the Indians, except my interpreter and his wife. Hence I was ready to look upon myself as a burden to the honourable society which employed and supported me in this business, and began to entertain serious thought^ of giving up my mission ; and almost resolved, I would do so at we conclusion of the present year, if I had then no better

F respect of special success in my work than I had hitherto had. cannot say that I entertained these thoughts because I was weary of the labours and fatigues which necessarily attended my'^present business, or because I had light and freedona in my own mind to turn 'any other way; but purely through dejection of spirit, pressing discouragement, and an apprehension of its being unjust to spend money consecrated to religious uses, only to civilize the Indians, and bring them to an external profession

guage, by remarkably fitting my interpreter for, and assisting him in the performance of his work. It mi^ht reasonably be supposed I must needs labour under a vast disadvantage in addressing the Indians by an Interpreter ; and that divine truths would undoubtedly lose much of the energy and pathos with which they might at first be delivered, by reason oi their coming to the audience from a second hand. But althou^ this has often, to my sorrow and discouragement, been the case in times past, when my interpreter had little or no sense of divine things; yet now it was quite otherwise. I cannot think my addresses to the Indians ordinarily, since the beginning of this season of grace have lost any thing of the power or pungency with which they were made, unless it were sometimes for want of pertinent and pathetic terms and expressions in the Indian language; which difficulty could not have been much redressed by my personal acquaintance with their language. My interpreter had before gained some good degree of £>ctrm(U know* ledge, whereby he was rendered capable of understanding, and coipmunicating, without mistakes, the intent and meantng of my discourses, and that without being confined strictly and obliged to interpret verbatim. He had Hkewise, to appearance, an experimental acquaintance with divine things; and it pleased God at this season to inspire his mind with longinff desires for the conversion of the Indians, and to give him admirable zeal and fervency in addressing them in order thereto. It is remarkable, that, when I was favoured with any special assistance in any work, and enabled to speak with more than common freedom^ fercency^ and j90M?er, under a lively and of' fecting sense of divine things, he was usually affected in the same manner almost instantly, and seemed at once quickened and enabled to speak in the same pathetic language, and under the same influence that 1 did. A surprising energy often accompanied the word at such seasons ; so that the face of the whole assembly would be apparently changed almost in an instant, and tears and sobs became common among them.

" He also appeared to have such a clear doctrinal view of God's usual methods of dealing with souls under a preparatory work of conviction and humiliation as he never had before ; so that I could, with his help, discourse freely with the distressed persons about their internal exercises, their fears, discourage-inents, temptations, &c. He likewise took pains day and night to repeat and inculcate upon the minds of the Indians the truths which I taught them daily; and this he appeared to do, not from spiritual pride, and an affectation of setting himself up as a public teacher^^ but from a spirit of faithfulness, and an honest concern for their souls.

" His conversation among the Indians has likewise, so far as I know, been savoury, as becomes a Christian, and a per-

6on employed in his work; and I may justly say, he has been a great comfort to me, and a great instrument of promoting this good work among the Indians; so that whatever be the state of his own soul, it is apparent God has remarkably fitted him for this work. Thus God has manifested that, without bestowing on me the gift of tongues^ he could find a way wherein I might be as effectually enabled to convey the truths of his glorious gospel to the minds of these poor benighted Pagans.

5. ^' It is further remarkable, that God has carried on his work here by such means and in such a manner^ as tended to obviate, and leave no room, for those prejudices and objections which have often been raised against such a work. When persons have be^n awakened to a solemn concern for their souls, by hearing the move awful truths of God^s word, and the terrors of the divine law insisted upon, it has usually m such cases been objected by some, that such persons were oaly^frighted with h. fearful noise of hell and damnation ; and that there was no evidence that their concern was the effect of a divine influence. But God has left no room for this objection in the present case; this work of grace hailing been oegun and carried on^ by almost one continued strain of gospel VKnilation to perishing sinners. This may reasonably be guessed, from a view of the passages of scripture I chiefly insisted upon in my discourses from time to time; which I have for that purpose inserted in my Diary.

^ Nor have I ever seen so seneral an "awakening in any aiBembly in my life as appeared here while I was opening and insisting upon the parable of the great supper—Luke xiv. In which discourse, I was enabled to set before my hearers, the unsearchable riches of gospel grace. Not that I would be understood here, that I never instructed the Indians respecting their fallen state, and the sinfulness and misery of it: for this was what I at first, chiefly insisted upon with them, and endeavoured to repeat and inculcate in almost every discourse, knowing that without this foundation, I should but build upon the sand, and that it would be in vain to invite them to Christ unless I could convince them of their need of him.—Mark ii. 17.

^ But still this great awakening, this surprising concern, was never excited by any harangues of terror, but always appeared most remarkable when I insisted upon the compassion of a dying Saviour, the plentiful provisions of the gospel, and the firee offers of divine grace, to needy, distressed sinners. Nor wcHild I be understood to insinuate, that such a religious concern might justly be suspected as not being genuine, and from a divine influence, because produced from the preaching of terror: for this is perhaps, God^s more usual way of awakening

sinners, and appears entirely agreeable to scripture and sound reason. But what I meant here to obsen'e is, that God saw fit to employ and bless milder means for the effectual awakening of these Indians, and thereby obviated the forementioned objection, which the world might otherwise have had a more plausible colour of making.

" As there has been no room for any plausible objection against this work, with regard to the means ; so neither with regard to the manner in which it has been carried on. It is true, persons* concern for their souls has been exceeding great; the convictions of their sin and misery have arisen to a high degree, and produced many tears, cries, and groans ; but then they have not been attended with those disorders^ either bodily or mental, which have sometimes prevailed among persons under religious impressions. There has here been no appear^ ance of those convulsions^ bodily agonies ^frightful screamings, stvoonings^ and the like, which have been so much complied of in some places ; although there have been some, who, with the jailer, have been made to tremble under a sense of their sin and misery ; numbers who have been made to cry out from a distressing view of their perishing state;—and some, who have been for a time, in a great measure, deprived of theif bodily strength, yet without any such convulsive appearances.

"Nor has there been any appearance of mental disorders here, such as visions^ trances^ imaginations of being under prophetic inspiration, and the like ; or scarce any unbecoming dis-^ position to appear remarkably affected either with concern or joy; though I must confess, I observed one or two persons, whose concern I thought was in a considerable measure affected; and one whose ^oy appeared to be of the same kind. But these workings of spiritual pride I endeavoured to crush in their first appearances, and have not since observed any affection, either of joy or sorrow, but what appeared genuine and unaffected. But,

6thly and lastly^ The effects of this work have likewise been very renriarkable. I doubt not but that many of these people have gained more doctrinal knowledge of divine truths, since I first visited them in June last, than could have been instilled into their minds by the most diligent use of proper and instructive nieans for whole years together, without such a divine influence. Their pagan notions and idolatrous practices, seem to be entirely abandoned in these parts. They are regulated, and appear regularly disposed in the affairs of marriage; an instance whereof I have given in my journal of August 14. They seem generally divorced from drunkenness^ their darling vice, the " sin that easily besets them;" so that I do not know of more than two or three who have been my steady hearers, that have drunk to excess since I first visited them ; although

lefore it was common for some or other of them to be drunk al-D06t every day: and some of them seem now to fear this sin in tarticular, more than death itself. A principle of honesty and Ofiftice appears in many of them; and they seem concerned

0 discharge their old debts, which they have neglected, and erhaps scarcely thought of for years past. Their manner f living, is much more decent and comfortable than formerly, Etving now the benefit of that money which they used to DQsume upon strong drink. Love seems to rei^n among them, |H3cially those who have given evidences of having passed a iving change: and I never saw any appearance of bitterness 'cmuoriousness in these, nor any disposition to ^^ esteem them-. Ives better than others," who had not received the like ercy.

**As their sorrows under convictions have been great and Qssing, so many of them have since appeared to " rejoice th ioy unspeakable, and full of glory;" and yet I never saw J tning ecstatic or flightly in their joy. Their consolatioiis > not incline them to lightness ; but, on the contrary, are at-ided with solemnity, and oftentimes with tears, and an ap-rent brokenness of heart, .as may be seen in several passages my diaiy. In this respect, some of them have been surprised themselves, and have with concern observed to me, that irhen their hearts have been glad," which is a phrase they nmonly make use of to express spiritual joy, " they could not p crying for all."

^ And now, upon the whole, I think, I may justly say, that e are all the symptoms and evidences of a remarkable work ^ace among these Indians, which can reasonably be desired expected. May the great Author of this work maintain and mote the same here^ and propagate it every where^ till " the ole earth be filled with his glory !" Amen. • I have now rode more than three thousand miles, of which ave kept an exact account, since the beginning of March :, and almost the whole of it has been in my own proper iiness as a missionary, upon the design, either immediately, more remotely, of propagating Christian knowledge among

Indians. I have taken pains to look out for a colleague zampanion, to travel with me ; and have likewise used en-Lvours to procure something for his support, among religious sons in New England, which cost me a journey of several idred miles in length; but have not, as yet, found any per-

qualified and disposed for this good work, although I had 16 encouragement from ministers and others, that it was »ed a maintenance might be procured for one, when the

1 should be found.

I have likewise of late, represented to the gentlemen conned with this mission, the necessity of having an EngUsh Jot. X. 31

school speedily set up among these Indians, who are now wiUiag to be at the pains of gathering together in a body, for tUa p«^ pose. In Older thereto, I have humbly proposed to them dM collecting of money for the maintenance of a school-mastflr, and the defraying of other necessary charges, in the pnomotioii of this good work; which they are now attempting in the several congregations of Christians to which they respectively belong.

^vThe several companies of Indians to whom I have preached in the summer past, live at great distances from each other. It is more than seventy miles from Crossweeksung, in New Jersey, to the Forks of Delaware in Pennsylvania; and thence to sundr]r of the Indian settlements which I visited on Suscpie-hannah, is more than an hundred and twenty miles. So moch of my time is necessarily consumed in joume3ring, that I can have but little for any of m^ necessary studies, and consequently for the study of the Indian languages in particular; and especially seeinff I am obliged to discourse so frequendy to the Indians at each of these places while I am with mem, m order to redeem time to visit the rest. I am, at times, almost db* couraged from attempting to gain any acquaintance with the Indian languages, they are so very numerous; some account of which I save in my diary of May last; and especially, seeing my other labours and fatigues engross almost the whole of my time, and bear exceedingly hard upon my constituiian, so that my health is much impaired.—However, I have taken considerable pains to learn the Delaware language, and propose still to do so, as far as my other business and bodily health will admit. I have already made some proficiency in it, though I have laboured under many and great disadvantages in my attempts of that nature. It is but just to observe here, that all the pams I took to acquaint myself with the language of the Indians with whom I spent my first year, were of little or no service to me here among the Delawares; so that my work, when I came among these Indians, was all to begin anew.

" As these poor ignorant Pagans stood in need of having " line upon line, and precept upon precept," in order to their being instructed and grounded in the principles of Christianity; so I preached " publicly, and taught from house to house," almost every day for whole weeks together, when I was with them. My ptAlic 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 opening to me the various exercises of their minds. Yet 1 can say to the praise of rich grace, that the apparent success with which my labours were crowned, unspeakably more than compensated for the labour itself, and was likewise a great means of supporting and carrying me through the busi-

ss and fatigues, which, it seems, my nature would have sunk der, without such an encouraging prospect. But although is success has afforded matter of support, comfort, and thank-iness ; yet in this season I have found great need of assistance my work, and have been much oppressed for want of one to ar a part of my labours and hardships. '^ May the Lord of 3 harvest send forth other labourers into this part of his har-It, that those who sit in darkness may see great light; and It the whole earth mav be filled with the knowledge of him-fl Amen."

CHAPTER VIII.

From the close of the Jirst part of his " Journal," JVbu.5,1745, to the I9th of June^ 1746; when the second part of his Journal terminated. This^ and the preceding chaj^ter^ occupy one year — the most interesting year of Brainera^s Life,

Os Tuesday^ Nov, 5, Brainerd left the Indians, and spent the remaining part of this week in travelling to various parts of New-Jersey, m order to get a collection for the use of the Indians, and to obtain a schoolmaster to instruct them. In the mean-time, he speaks of very sweet refreshment and entertainment with christian friends, and of being sweetly employed while riding, in meditation on divine subjects; his heart being enlarged, his mind clear, his spirit refreshed with divine truths, and his ^' heart burning within him while he went by the way, and the Lord opened to him the scriptures."

Lord^s day^ Nov, 10. [At Elizabeth Town.} " Was comfortable in the morning both in body and mind: preached m the forenoon from 2 Cor. v. 20. Now then we are ambassadors for Christy &c. God was pleased to give me freedom and fervency in my discourse ; and the presence of God seemed to be in the assembly ; numbers were affected, and there were many tears among them. In the afternoon, preached from Luke xiv. 22. And yet there is room. Was favoured with divine assistance in the first prayer, and poured out my soul to God with a filial temper; the living God also assisted me in the sermon."

The next day he went to Newtown on Long Island, to a meeting of the Presbytery. He speaks of some sweet medita-tio s which he had while there, on Christ's delivering up the kirgdom to the Father ; and of his soul being much refreshed and warmed with the consideration of that blissfiil day. -

Nov, 15. " Could not cross the ferry by reason of the violence of the wind; nor could I enjoy any place of retirement at the Ft ry-house ; so that I was in perplexity. Yet God gave me SOI e satisfaction and sweetness in meditation, and in lifting up m) heart to him in the midst of company. Although some we: drinking and talking profanely, which was indeed a grief to n*e, yet my mind was calm and composed ; and I could not

MEMOIRS OF BRAINKRD. i. :245

but bless God, that I was not likely to spend an eternity in such company. In the evening I sat down and wrote with composure and freedom ; and can say through pure grace it was a comfortable evening to my soul; an evening which I was enabled to spend in the service of God.

Nov. 16. " Crossed the ferry about ten o'clock, and arrived at Elizabeth Town near night. Was in a calm, composed frame of mind, and felt an entire resignation, with respect to a loss I had lately sustained in having my horse stolen from me the last Wednesday night, at Newtown. Had some longings of soul for the dear people of Elizabeth Town, that God would pour out his Spirit upon them, and revive his work among them.''

He spent the next four days at Elizabeth Town, for the most part in a free and comfortable state of mind; intensely engaged in the service of God, and enjoying at times the special assistance of his Spirit. On Thursday of this week he rode to Freehold, and spent the day under considerable dejection.

Nov. 22. " Rode to Mr. Tennent's, and from thence to Cross-weeksung. Had but little freedom in meditation while riding ; which was a grief and burden to my soul. O that I could ml up all my time, whether in the house or by the way, for God. I was enabled, I think, this day to sive up my soul to God, and put over all his concerns into his hands ; and found some real consolation in the thought of being entirely at the divine disposal, and having no will or interest of my own. I have received my all from God; O that I could return my all to God! Surely God is worthy of my highest affections and most devout adoration; he is infinitely worthy that I should make him my last end, and live for ever to him. O that I might never more, in any one instance, live to myself!

Lord^s day^ Nov. 34.* " Preached both parts of the day from the story of Zaccheus, Luke xix. 1—^9. In the latter exercise, when I opened and insisted upon the salvation that comes to a sinner upon his becoming a son of Abraham or a true behever, the word seemed to be attended with divine power to the hearts of the hearers. Numbers were much affected with divine truths; former convictions were revived; one or two persons newly awakened ; and a most affectionate engagement in divine service appeared among them universally. The impressions they were under appeared to be the genuine effect of God's word brought home to their hearts by the power and influence of the Divine Spirit.

"^ The second part of the Jovrval began here.

'i40 MEMOIRS OF BRAIXKRP.

Nov. 26. " After having spent some time in private conferences with my people, I discoursed publicly among them from John v. 1—9. I was favoured with some special freedom and fervency in my discourse, and a powerful energy accompanied divine truths. Many wept and sobbed affectionately, and scarcely any appeared unconcerned in the whole assembly. The influence which seized the audience, appeared gentle, and yet pungent and efficacious. It produced no boisterous commotions of the passions; but seemed deeply to affect the heart, and excite in the persons under convictions of their lost state, heavy groans and tears: and in others, wlio had obtained comfort, a sweet and humble melting. It seemed like the gentle but steady showers which effectually water the earth, without violently beating upon the surface. The persons lately awakened were some of them deeply distressed for their souls, and appeared earnestly solicitous to obtain an interest in Christ: and some of them, after public worship was over, in anguish of spirit, said ^ they knew not whajt to do, nor how to get their wicked hearts changed.'' &c.

Nov. 28. '^ Discoursed to the Indians publicly, after having used some private endeavours to instruct and excite some in the duties of Christianity. Opened and made remarks upon the sacred story of our Lord's transfiguration, Luke ix. 38—36. Had a principal view in insisting upon this passage of scripture to the edification and consolation of God's people. Ob^rved some, that I have reason to think are truly such, exceedingly affected with an account of the glory-of Christ in his transfiguration, and filled with longing desires of being with him, that they might with open face behold his glory.

" After public service was over, I asked one of them, who wept and sobbed most affectionately, What she now wanted ? She replied, " O, to be with Christ. She did not know how to stay," &c. This was a blessed refreshing season to the religious people in general. The Lord Jesus Christ seemed to manifest his divine glory to them, as when transfigured before his disciples ; and they were ready with the disciples 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 evidence of being truly gracious; though at this time Icalculated 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. One aged man, in particular, lately awakened, was now brought under a deep and pressing concern for his soul, was now earnestly inquisitive ^' how he might find Jesus Christ." God seems still to vouchsafe his divine presence, and the influence of his blessed Spirit to accompany his word, at least in some measure, in all our meetings for divine worship.

" I enjoyed some divine comfort and fervency in the public exercise and afterwards. While riding to my lodgings, viras favoured with some sweet meditations on Luke ix. 31. «^ Who appeared in glory, and spake of his decease, which he should accomplish at Jerusalem.^' My thoughts ran with freedom; and I saw and felt what a glorious subject the death of Christ is for glorified souls to dwell upon in their conversation. O the death of Christ! how infinitely precious !

Nov. 30. ^^ Preached near night, after having spent some

hours in private conference with some of my people about their

souls^ concerns. Explained and insisted upon the story of the

rich man and Lazarus, Luke xvi. 19—^26. The wcM-d made

powerful impressions upon many in the assembly, especially

while I discoursed of the blessedness of Lazarus in Abraham^s

bosom. This I could perceive affected them much more than

what I spoke of the rich man^s misery and torments; and thus

it has been usually with them. They have almost always ap*

peared much more affected with the comfortable than the

dreadful truths of God^s word. That which has distressed

many of them under conviction is, that they found they wanted,

and could not obtain, the happiness of the godly; at least,

they have often appeared to be more affected with this than

with the terrors of hell. But whatever be the means of their

awakening, it is plain, numbers are made deepljr' sensible of

their sin and misery, the wickedness and stubbornness of their

own hearts, their utter inability to help themselves, or to come

to Christ for help, without divine assistance; and so are brought

to see their perishing need of Christ to do all for them and to

lie at the foot of sovereign mercy.

Lord^s day^ Dec, 1. " Discoursed to my people in the forenoon from Luke xvi. 27—31. There appeared an unfeigned affection in divers persons, and some seemed deeply impressed with divine truths.' In the afternoon, preached to a number of vdiite people; at which time the Indians attended with diligence, and many of them were unable to understand a considerable part of the discourse. At night discoursed to my people again, and gave them particular cautions and directions relating to their conduct in divers respects, and pressed them to watchfulness in their deportment, seeing they were encompassed with those who waited for their halting, and who stood ready to draw them into temptations of every kind, and then to expose religion by their missteps.

Dec. 2. " Was much affected with grief that I had not lived more to God; and felt strong resolutions to double my diligence in my Master's service."

After this he went to a meeting of the Presbytery, at a place in New Jersey, called Connecticut Farms ; which occasioned

his abflence from his people the remainder of the weeL He speakf c^ some seasons of sweetness and spiritoal aflfoction in

his absence.

■

LanTs day, Dec. 8. ^ Discoursed on the story of the Uind man, John ix. Th^ie appeared no remarkable effect of the. word upon the assembly at this time. The persons who have lately been much concerned for their souls, seemed now not ao affected nor solicitous to obtain an interest in Christ as has been usual; although they attended divine service with smoua-ness and diligence. Such have been the doings o{ the Lwd here in awanning sinners, and affecting the hearts of thoae. who are brou^t to solid comfort with a fresh sense of divine thmasy from tune to time, that it is now strange to see the aa-sembly sit with dry eyes and without sobs and groans. ... . Dec; 0.'^ Spent most of the day in procuring {Hfovisions in order to mv setting up house-keeping among the Indiana Enjoyed little satisfaction through the day, being very much out of my element.

Dec. 10. ^^ Was engaged in the same business as yesterday^ Towards night got into my house.*

Dec 11. ^^ Spent the forenoon in necessary labours about my house. In the afternoon rode out upon business; and spent tlis evening with some satisfaction among -friends in conversation on a serious and profitable subject

Dec. 12. ^^ Preached from tne parable of the Ten Virgms, Matt XXV. The divine power seemed in some measure to attend this discourse ; in which I was favoured with uncommon freedom land plainness of address, and enabled to open divine truths, and explain them to the capacities of my people in a manner beyond myself. There appeared in many persons an affectionate concern for their souls, although the concern in general seemed not so deep and pressing as it had formerly done. Yet it was refreshing to see many melted into tears and unaffected sobs; some with a sense of divine love, and some for the want of it.

Dec. 13. ^^ Spent the day mainly in labour about my house. In the evening, spent some time in writing; but was veiy , weary and much outdone with the labour of the day.

Dec. 14. " Rose early, and wrote by candle-li^ht some con-sidei^ble time: spent most of the day in writmg, but was somewhat dejected. In the evening was exercis^ with pain in my head.

Dec. 15. " Preached to the Indians from Luke xiii. 24—^28. Divine truth fell with weight and power upon the audience

* This is the third house that he built to dwell in among: the Indians. The first at Kaunaumeek, county of Albany; the second at the Forks of Delaware; the third at Crossweeksang^, New-Jersey.

and seemed to reach the hearts of many. Near night discoursed to them again from Matt. xxv. 31—46. At this season also the word appeared to be accompanied with a divine influence, and made powerful impressions upon the assembly in general, as well as upon numbers in a very special and particular manner. This was an amazing season of grace. " The word of the Lord," this day, " was quick and powerful, sharper than a two edged sword," and pierced the hearts oi many. The assembly was greatly affected and deeply wrought upon; yet without so much apparent commotion of the passions as appeared in the beginning of this work of grace. The impressions made by the word of God upon the audience appeared solid, rational, and deep ; worthy of the solemn truths by which they were produced; and far from being the eflects of any sudden fright or groundless perturbation of mind. O, how did the hearts of the hearers seem to bow under the weight of divine truths; and how evident did it now appear, that they received and felt them, " not as the word of man, but as the word of God." None can form a just idea of the appearance of our assembly at this time but those who have seen a congregation solemnly awed, aind deeply impressed by the special power and influence of divine truths delivered to them in the name of God.

Dec. 16. " Discoursed to my people in the evening from Luke xi. 1—13. After having insisted some time upon the ninth verse, wherein there is a command and encouragement to ask for the divine favour, I called upon them to ask for a new heart with the utmost importunity ; as the man mentioned in the parable, on which I was discoursing, pleaded for loaves of bread at midnight. There was much affection and concern in the assembly, and especially one woman appeared in great distress for her soul. She was brought to such an agony in seeking after Christ, that the sweat ran off her face for a considerable time together; (although the evening was very cold;) and her bitter cries were the most affecting indications of her heart."

The remainder of this day he spent chiefly in writing; some part of the time under a degree of melancholy; but some part of it with a sweet ardency in religion.

Dec, 21. " My people having now attained to a considerable degree of knowledge in the principles of Christianity; I thought it proper to set up a catechetical lecture among them ; and this evening attempted something in that form; proposing questions to them agreeably to the Assembly's Shorter Catechbm, receiving their answers, and then explaioing and insisting as appeared necessary and proper upon each question.

Vol. X. 32

wo HKMOIRft OP BKAUriKD.

After thiB I endeaToured to make aonie iHrtclical impraf enoant of the whole. This was the mediod I enteied i4><hbu Thij were able readily and rationally^ to answer many HqiorCavt questions which I proposed to them; so.that, iqrah trialfl found thdr doctrinal knowled|^ to exceed my omn (riipeiO tions. In the improvement otmy disooune, whsii I came la infer and open the blessedness of those, who hate so gseil and glorious a God, as had before been spoken (Kf, ^fer Ifaair everlasting friend and pmtion ;*^ several were mneh alfeelsdt and especially when 1 exhorted, and endeavov^ed to p e i s mdd them to be reconciled to (rod throng bis dear Qcm^ 9Stiiim to secure an interest in his everlastmjg finroor. So thai Ihsf appeared not only enHchtened and mstmcled, h«l aileflisS and engaged in their soul's cimcem by this method of diseetn* in^. After mv labours with the Indums, I spent some tiiaaai writing some things divine and solemn; said wasmudh i xwi iedt with me labours of the day, found that my spmts wesa extremely spent, and that I could do no more. I am eonsdoas to myself, that my labours are as great and constant as mv ■»> ture will admit; and ordinarily I go to the extent el my strength, so that I do all I can: but the misery is 1 do nel labour with that heavenly temper, that sinsde eye to the riosy of God, that I long for/'

LorePs day^ "Dec. 32. ^^ Discoursed upon the stovy of the young man in the Gospel, Matt ix. 16—22. God made it a seasonable word, I am persuaded, to some souls. Theie weie several of the Indians newly come here, who had frequently lived among Quakers; and, being more civilized aiMi conformed to Enf^lish manners than the generality of the Indians, they had imbibed some of the Quakers' errors, especially this fondamental one, viz. ThcA^ if men wUl but ln>e soberfy tmd honestly according to the dictates of their own conscietux9y or the light within, there is then no danger or doubt of their sat-vation. These persons I found much worse to deal with than those who are wholly under Psjgan darkness; who make no pretences to knowledge in Christianity at all, nor have any self-righteous foundation to stand upon. However, they all, except one, appeared now convinced that this sober honest life of itself was not sufficient to salvation; since Christ himeelf had declared it so in the case of the young man. They seemed in some measure concerned to obtain that change of heart, the necessity of which I had been labouring to show them.

This was likewise a season of comfort to some souls, and in particular to one, the same mentioned in my journal of the 16th mstani, who never before obtained any settled comfort, though I have abundant reason to think she had passed a saving change some days before. She now appeared m a heavenly Iraune of mind, composed, and delightedf with the divine will. When I

came to discourse particularly with her, and to inquire of her, how she obtained relief and deliverance from the spiritual distresses which she had lately suffered; she answered, in broken £nglish,* " Me try^ me try save myself; last^ my strength be aUgone; (meaning her ability to save herself;) could not me 9tir bit further. Den last me forced let Jesus Christ alone send me hellj if he please.'^'* I said, ^' But^ you was not willing to go to heU ; was you ?'*'* She replied, ^' Could not me help it. my hearty he would wicked for all. Could not me make him good, (meaning, she saw it was right she should go to hell, because ker heart was wicked, and would be so after all she could do to mend it.) I asked her, how she got out of this case. She answered still in the same broken language, " By by, my heart be glad desperately.^'* I asked heir, why her heart was glad ? She replied, ^^ Glad my heart, Jesus Christ do what he please with me. Den me tink, glad my heart Jesus Christ send me to heU. Did not me care where he put me / love him for alV^ ^. She could not readily be convinced, but that she was wilhne to go to hell if Christ was pleased to send her there; although the truth evidently was, that her will was so swallowed up in the divine will, that she could not frame any hell in her imagination which would be dreadful or undesirable, provided it was the will of God to send her to it. Toward night discoursed to them again in the catechetical method, which I entered upon the evening before. When I came to improve the truth which I had explained to them, and to answer that question, '^ But how shall I know whether God has chosen me to everlasting life ?" by pressing them to come and give up their hearts to Christ, and thereby " to make their election sure," they then appeared much affected: and persons under concern were afresh engaged in seeking after an interest in him; while some others, who had obtained comfort before, were refreshed to find that love to God in themselves, which was an evidence of his electing love to them.

Dec. 23 and 24 " Spent three days in writing with the utmost diligence. Felt in the main a sweet mortification to the world, and a desire to live and labour only for God; but wanted paore warmth and spirituality, and a more sensible and affectionate regard for the glory of God.

Dec. 25. " The Indians having been used on Christmas-days to drink and revel among some of the white people in these parts; I thought it proper this day to call them together and discourse to them upon divine things; which I accordingly did from the parable of the barren fig-tree, Luke xiii. 6—9. A divine influence, I am persuaded, accompanied the word at this

* In proper English, «« Itried^ and tried to save myself, till at last my strength was aU gone, and I could not stir any further. Then I was at last obliged to let Jesus Christ alone, to send me to hell if he pleased.

season. The power of Grod appeared in the assembly^ nol 1^ producing any remarkable crisis, but by rovufing seraral stand creatures, who were scarcely ever moved with anv coneeni d»-fore. The power attending divine truths seemw to have the influence of the earthquake rather than of the whiriwmd apan them. Their passions were not so much alarmed as ha» been common here in times past, but their judgments appeared to be powerfiilly convinced by the masterly and conquering inflnenee of divine truths. The impressions made upon the a a s omt ^ m

general, seemed not superficial, but deep and heart-aflbeti^g. I how ready did they now appear universally to embrace aM comply with every thmg which they heard, and were convineed was their dutf. God was in the midst of us of a tnilli, bow* ing and melting stubborn hearts I How many tears and sobs were then to be seen and heard amone us! What liveliness aiMl strict attention I What eagerness and intenseness of mind q^ peared in the whole assembly, in the time of Divine serviee. They seemed to watch and wait for the droppings of GkNhi word, as the thirsty earth for the '•^ former and latter rain.**

^^ Afterwards I discoursed to them on the duty of hnsbands and wives, from Epb. v. 33,33. and have reasim to tfiink this WBs a word in season. Spent some time further in die ey eai ag in inculcating the truths on which I had insisted in mv fbnner discourse respectinir the barren fiir-tree; and observea a now-erfiil influence accLpany what was spoken.

Dec. 36. *'*' This evening was visited by a person under ^reat spiritual distress; the most remarkable instance of this kmd I ever saw. She was I believe more than fourscore years old; and appeared to be much broken and very childish through age; so that it seemed impossible for man to instil into her any noti<Hi8 of Divine things; not so much as to give her any doctrinal instruction, because she seemed incapable of being taught She was led by the hand into my house, and appeared in eztrraie anguish. I asked her, what ailed her ? She answered, her heart was distressed, and she feared she should never find ChrisL I asked her when she began to be concerned, with divers other questions relating to her distress. To all which she answered, for substance, to this effect: That she had heard me preach many times^ but never knew any thing about «>, never fdi it in her hearty till the last Sabbath^ and then it came^ she said, all one as if a needle had been thrust into her heart ; since which time^ she had no rest day nor night. She added, that on the evening before Christmas ^a number of Indians being together at the house where she was^ and discoursing about Christy their talk pricked her heart so tliat she could not set up, but fell down in her bed; at which time she went away, as she expressed it, and felt as if she dreamed, and yet is confident she did not dream. When she was thus gone, she saw two paths ; one appeared very broad

mnd crooked^ and that turned to the left hand. The other appeared straight J and very narrow ; and that went up the hill to the right hand. She travelled, she said,/or some time up the narrow right hand path, till at length something seemed to oh-struct her journey. She sometimes calied it darkness ; and then described it otherwise, and seemed to compare it to a block or bar. She then remembered what she had heard me say about striving to enter in at the strait gate, although she took little notice of it at the time when she heard me discourse upon that fubjed; 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 that she had now turned hack, and forsaken Christ, and that there was therefore no hope of mercy for her.

^^ As 1 was sensible that trances, and imaginary views of things are of dangerous tendency in religion, where sought after and depended upon; so I could not but be much concerned about this exercise, especially at first; apprehending this might be a design of Satan to bring a blemish upon the work of God here, by introducing visionary scenes, imaginary terrors, and all manner of mental disorders and delusions, in the room of genuine convictions of sin, and the enlightening influences of the blessed Spirit; and 1 was almost resolved to declare, that I looked upon this to be one of Satan's devices, and to caution my people against this and similar exercises of that nature. However, I determined first to inquire into her knowledge, to see whether she had any just views of things which misht be the occasion of her present distressing concern, or whether it was a mere fright, arising only from imaginary terrors. I asked her divers questions respecting man's primitive, and more especially, his present state, and respecting her own heart; which she answered rationally, and to my surprise. I thought it next to impossible, if not altogether so, that a Pagan, who was become a child through age, should in that state gain so much knowledge by any mere human instruction, without being remarkably enlightened by a divine influence. I then proposed to her the provision made in the Gospel for the salvation of sinners, and the ability and willingness of Christ " to save to the uttermost all, old as well as young, that come to him.'' To this she seemed to give a hearty assent; but instantly replied," Aye, but I cannot come; my wicked heart will not come to Christ; I do not know how to come," &c. This she spoke in anguish of spirits, striking on her breast, with tears in her eyes, and with such earnestness in her looks, as was indeed piteous and affecting. She seems to be really convinced of her sin and misery, and her need of a change of heart. Her concern is abiding and constant, so that nothing appears why this exercise may

1

^156 MCMOIRS OF BEAIVXaP.

they soon came in, one after another, with team in their e] taknow ** what they should do to be saved.^ The divine rit in such a manner set home upon then* hearts what I to them, that the house was soon filled with cries and groam* They all flocked together upon this occasion; and those ^riioai I had reason to think in a Christless state, were almost 1miTe^ sally seized with concern for their souls. It was an »™""»| season of power among them; and seemed as if Grod hra bowed the heavens and come down. So astonishingly previr lent was the operation upon old as well as young, that it seemed as if none would be left in a secure and natural state, but tint God was now about to convert all the world. I was ready to think then, that I should never affain despair of the conversion of any man or woman living, be they who or wbai tbey would.

^* It is impossible to give a just and lively description of liie appearance of things at this season; at least sucn as to oeih vey a bright and adequate idea of the effects of this inflimica A number might now be seen rejoicins that God had not taluBii away the powerful influence of his Messed Spirit from tUi place; refireshed to see so many striving to enter in at tflB strait gate; and animated with such concern for them, that they wanted to push them forward, as some of them ezpraised it At the same time numbers, both of men and women, old and young, might be seen in tears; and some in anguish '<df spirit appearing in their very countenances, like coimenined malefactors bound towards the place of execution, with a heavy solicitude sitting in their faces; so that there seemed here, as i thought, a lively emblem of the solemn day of account: a mix* ture of heaven and hell; of joy and anguish inexpressible.

^^ The c6ncern and religious affection was such, that I could not pretend to have any formal religious exercise among them; but spent the time in discoursing to one and another, as I thou^t most proper and seasonable for each; and addressed them all togetner; and finally concluded with prayer. Such were their circumstances at this season, that I could scarcely 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 after seven at night. There appeared to be four or five persons newly awakened this day and the evening before; some of whom but veiy lately came among us.

Dec. 30. " Was visited by four or five young persons, under concern for their souls; most of whom were lately awakened. They wept much while I discoursed with them; and endea* voured to press upon them the necessity of flying to Christ without delay for salvation.

Dec. 31. " Spent some hours this day in visiting my people from house to house, and conversing with them about their spi-'

ritual concerns; endeavouring to press upon Christless souls the necessity of renovation of heart; and scarce left a house without leaving some or other of its inhabitants in tears, appearing solicitously engaged to obtain an interest in Christ.

" The Indians are now gathered together from all quarters to this place, and have built them little cottages, so that more than twenty families live within a quarter of a mile of me. A very convenient situation with regard both to public and private instruction.

Jem. 1,1746. " I am this day beginning a new year, and God has carried me through numerous trials and labours in the past. He has amazingly supported my feeble frame; for having obtained help of God, I continue to this day. O that I might live nearer to Grod this year than I did the last! The business to which I have been called, and which I have been enabled to go through, I know has been as great as nature could bear up under, and what would have sunk and overcome me quite, without special support. But alas, alas! though I have done the labours and endured the trials; with what spirit have I done the one and endured the other ? How cold has been the frame of my heart oftentimes I and how little have I sensibly eyed the glory of God in all my doings and sufferings! I have found that I could have no peace without filling up all my time with labour. Thus " necessity has been laid upon me;" yea, in that respect, I have loved to labour; but the misery is, 1 could not sensibly laj;)Our for God, as I would have done. May I for the future be enabled more sensibly to make the glory of God my all.

" Spent considerable time in visiting my people again. Found scarcely one but what was under some serious impressions respecting their spiritual concerns.

Jan. 3. " Visited some persons newly come among us, who had scarce ever heard any thing of Christianity before, except the empty name. Endeavourea to instruct them, particularly 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 among us, so that I have occasion repeatedly to open and inculcate the first principles of Christianity.

Jan. 4, " Prosecuted my catechetical method of instructing. Found my people able to answer questions with propriety, beyond what could have been expected from persons so lately brought out of heathenish darkness. In the improvement of my discourse, there appeared some concern and affection in the assembly: and especially in those of whom I entertained hopes as being truly gracious, at least several of them were much affected and refreshed.

Vol.. X. ^ 33

Lord's day J Jan. 5. •• Discoursed from Matt. xii. 10—13. There appeared not so much liveiiness and affection in divioe service as usual. The same truths, which have often produced many tears and sobs in the assembly, seemed now to have no special influence upon any in it. Near night I proposed to have proceeded in my usual method of catechising; but while we were engaged in Uie first prayer, the power of God seemed to descend upon the assembly m such a remarkable maimer, and so many appeared under pressing concern for their souk, that I thought it much more expedient to insist upon the plentiful provision made by divine grace for the redemption of perishing sinners, and to press them to a speedy acceptance of the great salvation, than to ask them questions about doctrinal

Eoints. What was most practical, seemed most seasonable to e insisted upon, while numbers appeared so extraordinarily solicitous to obtain an interest in the great Redeemer. Bimr tized two persons this day: one adult, the woman particularly mentioned in my Journal of Dec. 22, and one child.

^' This woman has discovered a very sweet and heavenly frame of mind from time to time, since her ifirst reception of comfort. One morning in particular, she came to see me, discovering an unusual joy and satisfaction in her countenance; and when I inquired into the reason of it, she replied, ^'diat God had made her feel that it was right for him to do what he pleased with all things; and that it would be right if he should cast her husband and son both into hell; and she saw it was so right for God to do what he pleased with them, that she could not but rejoice in God even if he should send them into hell;" though it was apparent she loved them dearly. She moreover inquired whether I was not sent to preach to the Indians by some good people a great way off. I replied, " Yes, by the good people in Scotland." She answered, " that her heart loved those good people so the evening before, that she could not help praying for them all night; her heart would go to God for them.*" Thus the blessings of those ready to perish are like to come upon those pious persons who have communicated of their substance to the propagation of the gospel.

Jan. 6. " Being very weak in body, I rode for my health. While riding, my thoughts were sweetly engaged for a time upon "the Stone cut out of the mountain without hands, which broke in pieces all before it, and waxed great, and became a

freat mountain, and filled the whole earth: and I longed that esus should take to himself his great power, and reign to the ends of the earth." O how sweet were the moments wherein I felt my soul warm with hopes of the enlargement of the Redeemer's kingdom: I wanted nothing else, but that Christ should reign to the glory of his blessed name.^'

The next day he complains of want of fervenc}'.

Jan. 8. ^' In the evenmg my heart was drawn out after God in secret; my soul was refreshed and quickened, and I trust £uth was in exercise. I had great hopes of the ingathering of precious souls to Christ, ndt only among my own people, out others also. I was sweetly resigned and composed under my bodily weakness; and was willing to live or die, and desirous to labour for God to the utmost of my strength.

JoHi 9; ^^ Was still very weak, and exercised with vapoury disorders. In the evening enjoyed some enlargement and spirituality in prayer. Oh that I could always spend my timer profitably both in health and weakness.

Jan, 10. ^< My soul was in a sweet, calm, and composed frame, and my heart filled with love to all the world; and Christian simplicity and tenderness seemied then to prevail and reign within me. Near night visited a serious Baptist minister, and had some agreeable conversation with him, and found that I could love Christ in his fi'iends.

/cm. II. ^' Discoursed in a catechetical method, as usual, of late. Having opened our first parentis primitive apostacy firom God, and our fall in him; I proceeded to apply my discourse by showing the necessity we stood in of an Almighty "Redeemer, and the absolute need every sinner has of an interest in his iilerits and mediation. There was some tenderness and afiec-tionate concern apparent in the assembly.

Lard^8 dajfi Jan^ 12. ^^ Preached fi'om Isaiah Iv. 6. The Ivord of G(^ seemed to fall upon the audience with a divine freight and influence, and evidently appeared to be ^^ not the Word of man.^^ The blessed Spirit I am persuaded accompa-liied what was spoken to the hearts of many; so that there was It powerful revival of conviction in numbers who were under spiritual exercise before.

" Toward night catechised in my usual method. Near the close of my discourse, there appeared a great concern, and much affection in the audience; which increased while I con-iinued to invite them to come to an all-sufficient Redeemer for eternal salvation. The Spirit of God seems fi-om time to time U^ be striving with souls here. They are so frequently and repeatedly roused, that they seem unable at present to lull themselves asleep.

Jan. 13. " Was visited by several persons tinder deep cori-eem for their souls; one of whom was newly awakened. It is a[ most agreeable work to treat with souls who are solicitously immiring « what they shall do to be saved." As we are never to be " weary in well doing," so the obligation seems to be pe* culiarly strong when the work is so very desirable. Yet I ftmslt say, my health is so much impaired, and my spirits so- wasted

!260 MEMOIRS OF BRAlNiCBD.

with my labours and solitary manner of livine; there being no human creature in the house with me; that meir repeated and almost incessant applications to me for help and direction, are sometimes exceedingly burdensome, and so exhausts my spirits, that I become fit for nothing at all, entirely unable to prosecute my business, sometimes for days together. What contributes much towards this difficulty is, that I am obliged to spend much time in communicating a little matter to them; there being oftentimes many things to be premised before I can speak directly to what I principally aim at; which things would rea' dily be taken for granted, where there was a competency ot doctrinal knowledge.

Jan. 14. ^ Spent some time in private conference with mf people, and found some disposed to take comfort, as I thought, upon slight grounds. They are now generallv awakened, and it is become so disgraceful, as well as terri^ing to the conscience, to be destitute of religion, that they are in imminent danger of taking up with an appearance of grace, rather than to live under the fear and disgrace of an unregenerated state

Jan. 15. ^' My spirits were very low and flat, and I could not but think I was a burden to God^s earth; and could scarcely look any body in the face through shame and sense of barrenness. God pity a poor unprofitable creature.^^

The two next days he had some comfort and refireshment.

Jan, 18. " Prosecuted my catechetical method of discoursing: There appeared a great solemnity and some considerable aflec-tion in the assembly. This method of instruction I find very profitable. When I first entered upon it, I was exercised witn fears lest my discourses would unavoidably be so doctrinal, that they would tend only to enlighten the head, but not to affect the heart. But the event proved quite otherwise; for these exercises have hitherto been remarkably blessed in the latter, as well as the former respects.

hordes day^ Jan. 19. Discoursed to my people from Isaia& Iv. 7. Toward night catechised in my ordinary method; and this appeared to be a powerful season of grace among us. Numbers were much affected. Convictions were powerfiiUy revived, and divers numbers of Christians refreshed and strengthened ; and one weary, heavy laden soul, I have abundant reason to hope, brought to true rest and solid comfort in Christ; who afterwards gave me such an account of God's dealing with his soul, as was abundantly satisfying, as well as refreshing to me.

" He told me he had often heard me say, that persons must see and feel themselves utterly helpless and undone—that they must be emptied of a dependence upon themselves and of all

hope of saving themselves, in order to their coming to Christ for salvtttion. He had long been striving after this view of things; supposing that this would be an excellent frame of mind, to be thus emptied of a dependence upon his own goodness ; that God would have respect to this frame, would then be well pleased with him, and bestow eternal life upon him. But when he came to feel himself in this helpless, undone condition, he found it quite contrary to all his thoughts and expectations; so that it was not the same frame, nor indeed any thing like the frame after which he had been seeking. Instead of its being a good frame of mind, he now found nothing but badness in himself, and saw it was for ever impossible for him to make himself any better. He wondered, he said« that he had ever hoped to mend his own heart. He was amazed that he had never before seen, that it was utterly impossible for him by all his contrivances and endeavours to do any thing in that way, since the matter now appeared to him in so clear a light Instead of imagining: now that God would be pleased with him for the sake of this frame of mind, and this view of his undone estate, he saw clearly, and felt that 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 that there was nothing in such a sight to deserve God's love or pity.

^^ He saw these things in a manner so clear and convincing, that it seemed to him, he said, he could convince every body of their utter inability to help themselves, and their unworthiness of any help from God. Jn 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 go^oess of their own to recommend them to his acceptance, then he thought with himself that he had often tried to come and give up his heart to Christ, and he used to hope that some time or other he should be able to do so. But now he was convinced that he could not, and that it was utterly vain for him ever to try any more; and he could not, he said, find a heart to make any further attempt, because he saw it would signify nothing at all; nor did he now hope for a better opportunity or more ability hereafter, as he had formerly done, because he saw, and was fiilly convinced that 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 Uiat 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 that 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 bis heart, as he had formerly intended and attempted to

Jan. 31. '^ This day the person whom I had made choice of and engaged for a school-master among the Indians, arrived among us, and wais heartily welcomed by my people universally. Whereupon 1 distributed several dozens of primers among the children.

Feb. 1. ^^ 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 the evening school. The number of the latter sort of persons beins less than it would be if they could be more constantly at home, and could spare time from their necessary employments for an attendance upon these instructions.

" Towards night enjoyed some of the clearest thoughts on a divine subject, viz. that treated of I Cor. xv, 13—16, Bui if there be no resurrection of the dcad^ <fec. which I ever remember to have had upon any subject whatsoever; and spent two or three hours in writing them. I was refreshed with this in-tenseness; my mind was so engaged in these meditations 1 could scarcely turn it to any thing else, and indeed I could not be willing to part with so sweet an entertainment.

'^ In the evening catechised in my usual method. Towards the close of my discourse, a surprismg power seemed to attend the word, especially to some persons. One man considerably in years, who had been a remarkable drunkard, a conjurer, and murderer, and was awakened some months before, was now brought to great extremity under his spiritual distress; so that he trembled for hours together, and apprehended himself just dropping into hell, without any power to rescue or relieve himself. Divers others appeared under great concern as well as he, and solicitous to obtain a saving change.

Lord^s day^ Feb. 2. " Preached from John v. 24, 25. There appeared as usual some concern and affection iii the assembly. Towards night proceeded in my usual method of catechising. Observed my people more ready in answering the questions proposed to them than ever before. It is apparent they advance daily in doctrinal knowledge. But what is still more desirable, the Spirit of God is yet operating among them; whereby experimental, as well as speculative knowledge is propagated in their minds.

" After public worship, my bodily strength being much spent, my spirits sunk amazingly, and especially on hearing that 1 was generally taken to be a Roman Catholic, sent by the Papists to draw the Indians into an insurrection against the English, that some were in fear of me, and others were for having me taken up by authority and punished. Alas, what will not the devil do to bring a slur and disgrace on the work of God! O,

how holy and circumspect had I need to be I Through divine goodness I have been enabled to mind my own business in Uiese parts as well as elsewhere; and to let all men, and all denominations of men alone, as to their party notions, and only preached' the plain and necessary truths of Christianity^ neither inviting to, nor excluding from any meeting, any of any sort or persuasion whatsoever. Towards night the Lord gave me freedom at the throne of grace in my first prayer before my catechetical lecture; and, in opening the xlvth Psalm to my people, my soul confided in God; although the wicked world should slander and persecute me, or even condemn and execute me as a traitor to my king and country. Truly," God is a present help in time of trouble.'' In the evening my soul was m some measure comforted, having some hope that one poor soul was brought home to God this day; though the case did by no means appear clear. Oh that I could fill up every moment of time during my abode here below in the service of my God and King.

Feb. 3. " My spirits were still much sunk with what I heard the day before of my being suspected to be engaged in the Pretender's interest. It grieved me, that after there had been so much evidence of a glorious work of grace among these poor Indians, as that the most carnal men could not but take notice of the great change made among them, so many poor souls should still suspect the whole to be only a Popisfi plot, and so cast an awful reproach on this blessed work of the diirine Spirit, and at the same time wholly exclude themselves from receiving any benefit by this divine influence. This put me upon searching whether t had ever dropped any thing inadvertently, which might give occasion to any to suspect that I was stirring up the Indians against the English; and could think of nothing, unless it was my attempting sometimes to vindicate the rights of the Indians, and complaining of the horrid practice of making the Indians drunk, and then cheating them out of their lands and other property. Once I remembered I had done this with too much warmth of spirit, which much distressed me; thinking that it might possibly prejudice them against this work of grace to their everlasting destruction. God, I believe, did me good by this trial, which served to humble me, and show me the necessity of watchfulness, and of being wise as a serpent as well as harmless as a dove. This exercise led me to a throne of grace, and there I found some support: though I could not get the burden wholly removed. Was assisted in prayer, especially in the evening."

He remained still under a degree of anxiety about this affair, which continued to have the same effect upon him to cause him Vol. X. 34

to reflect upon and humble himself, and frequent the tlurone of grace; but soon found himself much more relieved and supported. He was this week in an extremely weak state, and obliged, as he expresses it, ^' to consume considerable time in diversions for his health."

Feb. 5. " Discoursed to a considerable number of tlie Indians in the evening; at which time numbers of them appeared much afiected and melted with divine things.

Feb. 8. ^' Spent a considerable part of the day in visiting my people from house to house, and conversing with them about their souPs concerns. Divers persons wept while I discoursed to them, and appeared concerned for nothing so much as for an interest in the great Redeemer. In the evening catechised as usual. Divine truths made some impressions upon the audience; and w^re attended with an afiectionate engage' ment of soul in some.

hordes day J Feb, 9. "Discoursed to niy people from the story of the blind man. Matt. x. 46—^52. The word of God seemed weighty and powerful upon the assembly at this time, and made considerable impressions upon manv; several in particular, who have generally been remarkably stupid and careless under the means of grace, were now awakened^ and wept afiectionately. The most earnest attention, as well bs tenderness and afiection appeared in the audience universally.

" Baptized three persons; two adults and one child. The adults, I have reason to hope, were both truly pious. There was considerable melting in the assembly, while I was discoursing particularly to the persons, and administering the ordinance. God has been pleased to own and ble&s the administration of this as well as of his other ordinances among the Indians. There are some here who have been powerfully awakened at seeing others baptized; and some who have obtained relief and comfort just in the season when this ordinance has been administered.

" Toward night catechised. God made this a powerful season to some. There were many affected. Former convictions appeared to be powerfully revived. There was likewise one who had been a vile drunkard remarkably awakened. He appeared to be in great anguish of soul, wept and trembled, and continued to do so till near midnight. There was also a poor heavy-laden soul, who had been long under spiritual distress, as constant and pressing as I ever saw, who was now brought to a comfortable calm, and seemed to be bowed and reconciled to the divine sovereignty, and told me she now felt and saw that it was right for God to do with her as he pleased ; and that her heart felt pleased and satisfied it should be so; although of late she had often found her heart rise and quarrel with

GcmI, because he would, if he pledsed^ send her to hell after all she had done, or could do to save herself. She added, that the heavy burden she had lain under was now removed; that she had tried to recover her concern and distress again, fearing that the Spirit of God was departing from her, and would leave her wholly careless, but that she could not recover it; that she felt, she never could do any thing to save herself, but must perish for ever if Christ did not do all for her; that she did not deserve he should help her; and that it would be right if he should leave her to perish. But Christ would save her though she could do nothing to save herself, &c. and here she seemed to rest."

The Monday after he set out on a journey to the Forks of Delaware, to visit the Indians there. He performed the journey under great weakness, and was sometimes exercised with much pain; but says nothing of his dejection and melancholy. He arrived at his own house at the Forks on Friday, During Ae week he appears from his Diary to have enjoyed a sweet composure of mind, thankfulness to God for his mercies to him and others, resignation to the divine will, and comfort in prayer and religious conversation. At the same time his heart was drawn out after God, and affected with a sense of his own barrenness, as well as with the fulness and freeness of divine grace.

" Forks of Delaware^ February^ 1746.

hordes day^ February 16. " Knowing that numbers of the Indians in these parts were obstinately set against Christianity, and that some of them had refused to hear me preach in times past, I thought it might be proper and beneficial to the Christian interest here, to have a number of my religious people from Crossweeksung with me, to converse with them about religious matters; hoping it might be a means to convince them of the truth and importance of Christianity, to see and hear some of their own nation discoursing of divine things, and manifesting earnest desires that others might be brought out of heathenish darkness, as themselves were. For this purpose I selected half a dozen of the most serious and intelligent of those Indians, and having brought them to the Forks of Delaware, I this dav met with them and the Indians of this place. Numbers of the latter probably could not have been prevailed upon to attend this meeting, had it not been for these religious Indians, who accompanied me hither, and preached to them. Some of those who had in times past been extremely averse to Christianity, now behaved soberly, and some others laughed and mocked. However the word of

God fell with such weight and power that numbers seemed to be stunned, and expressed a willingness to hear mc agun ai these matters.

" Afterwards prayed with and made an address to the white people present, and could not but observe some visible effects of the word, such as tears and sobs among them. After pub-lie worship, spent some time, and took pains to convince trwiie #| that mocked of the truth and importance of what I had been j insisting upon; and so endeavoured to awaken their attention < to divine truths. Had reason to think from what I observed then and afterwards, that my endeavours took considerable effect upon one of the worst of them.

" Those few Indians then present, who used to be my hearen in these parts, some having removed hence to Crossweeksung, seemed somewhat kindly disposed toward me, and glad to see me again. They had been so much attacked, however, by some of the opposing Pagans, that they were almost ashamed or afraid to manifest their friendship.

Feb. 17. " After having spent much time in discoursing to the Indians in their respective houses, I got them together and repeated and inculcated what I had before taught them. At terwards discoursed to them from Acts viii. 5—8. A divine influence seemed to attend the word. Several of the Indiani here appeared to be somewhat awakened, and manifested ear-nest tears and sobs. My people of Crossweeksung continued with them day and night repeating and inculcating the truths I had taught them, and sometimes prayed and sung psalms among them ; discoursing with each other in their hearing of the great things God had done for them and for the Indians from whence they came. This seemed, as my people toW me, to have more effect upon them, than when they directed their discourse immediately to them. I was refreshed and encouraged, and found a spirit of prayer in the evening, and earnest longings for the illumination and conversion of these poor Indians.

Feb. 18. " Preached to an assembly of Irish people, nearly fifteen miles distant from the Indians.

Feb. 19, " Preached to the Indians again, after having spent considerable time in conversing with them more privately. There appeared a great solemnity and some concern and m-fection among the Indians belonging to these parts, as well as a sweet melting among those who came with me. ]>lumbers of the Indians nere seemed to have their prejudices and aversion to Christianity removed; and appeared well disposed and inclined to hear the word of God. My heart was comforted and refreshed, and my soul filled with longings for the conversion of these poor Indians.

Feb. 20. " Preached to a small assembly of High Dutch people who had seldom heard the gospel preached, and were some of them at least very ignorant; but numbers of them have lately been put upon an inquiry after the way of salvation with thoughtfulness. They gave wonderful attention; and some of them were much affected under the word, and afterwards said, as I was informed, that they never had been so much enlightened about the way of salvation in their whole lives before. They requested me to tarry with them, or come again and preach to them. It grieved me that I could not compl]^ with their request. I could not but be affected with their circumstances; for they were as " sheep not having a shepherd,^' and some of them appeared under some degree of distress for sin; standing in peculiar need of the assistance of ad experienced spiritual guide.

• " God was pleased to support and refresh my spirits by affording me assistance this day, and so hopeful a prospect of success. I returned home rejoicing and blessing the name of the Lord; found freedom and sweetness afterward in secret prayer, and had my soul drawn out for dear friends. Oh how blessed a thing it is to labour for God faithftilly and with encouragement of success! Blessed be the Lord for ever and ever for the assistance and comfort granted this day!

Feb» 2L " Preached to a number of people, many of them Low Dutch. Several of the fore-mentioned High Dutch peo-> pie attended the sermon, though eight or ten miles distant from their houses. Numbers of the Indians also, belonging to these parts, came of their own accord with my people from Cross* weeksung, to the meeting.—There were two in particular, who though the last Sabbath they opposed and ridiculed Christian-i^, now behaved soberly. May the present encouraging appearances continue!

^^ My soul was refreshed and comforted; and I could not but bless God, who had enabled me in some good measure to be fidthfiil the day past. Oh how sweet it is to be spent and worn put for God.

Feh. 22. " Preached to the Indians. They appeared more jfree from prejudice and more cordial to Christianity than before ; and some of them appeared affected with divine truths. My spirits were much supported though my bodily strength was much wasted. Oh that God would be gracious to the souls of these poor Indians!

** God has been very gracious to me this week. He has enabled me to preach every day; and has given me some assistance and encouraging prospect of success in almost every sermon.—^Blessed be his name! Several of the white people have been awakened this week; and numbers of the Indians much

cured of prejudices and jealousies which they had conceived against Christianity, and seem to be really awakened.

Lord's day^ Feb. 23. " Preached to the Indians from John vi. 35—^37. After public service discoursed particularly with several of them, and invited them to go down to Crossweek-sung, and tarry there at least for some time; knowing that they would then be free from the scoffs and temptations of the opposing Pagans, as well as in the way of hearing divine truths discoursed of both in public and private. Obtained a promise of some of them that they would speedily pay us a visit, and attend some farther instructions. They seemed to be considerably enlightened, and much freed from their prejudices against Christianity. But it is much to be feared that their prejudices will revive again, unless they can enjoy the means of instruG-tion here, or oe removed when they may be under such advantages, and out of the way of their Pagan acquaintances."

.The next day Brainerd left the Forks of Delaware to retmn to Crossweeksung, and spent the whole week till Saturday in his journey. He preached on the way every day except one; and was several times greatly assisted, and had much inward comfort and earnest longings to fill up all his time in the service of God.—He utters such expressions as these after preaching : ^' Oh that I may be enabled to plead the cause of God faithfully to my dying moment. Oh how sweet it would be to spend myself wholly for God and in his cause, and to be freed from selfish motives in my labours."

Crossweeksung^ March^ 1746.

March 1. " Catechised in my ordinary method. Was pleased and refreshed to see them answer the questions proposed to tliem with such remarkable readiness, discretion, and knowledge. Toward the close of my discourse divine truths made considerable impressions upon the audience, and produced tears and sobs in some under concern; and more especially a sweet and humble melting in several, who I have reason to hope were truly gracious.

Lords day^ March 2, " Preached from John xv. 16. The assembly appeared not so lively in their attention as usual, nor so much affected with divine truths in general as has been common. Some of my people who went up to the Forks of Delaware with me, being now returned, were accompanied by two of the Indians belonging to the Forks, who had promised me a speedy visit. May the Lord meet with them here. They can scarcely go into a house now but they will meet with Christian conversation, whereby it is to be hoped they may be both instructed and awakened.

" Discoursed to the Indians again in the afternoon, and observed among them some animation and engagedness in divine service, though not equal to what has often appeared here. I know of no assembly of Christians, where there seems to be so much of the presence of God, where brotherly love so much prevails, and where I should take so much delight in the public worship of God in general, as in my own congregation ; although not more than nine months ago they were worship* pinff devils and dumb idols under the power of Pagan darkness and superstition. Amazing change this! effected by nothing less than divine power and grace. This is the doing of the XiOrd, and it is justly marvellous in our eyes."

The four next days were spent in great bodily weakness, but he speaks of some seasons of considerable inward comfort.

March 5. " Spent some time just at evening in prayer, singing, and discoursing to my pepple upon divine things; and observed some agreeable tenderness and aiSection among them. Their present situation is so compact and commodious, that they are easily and quickly called together with only the sound of a conk-shell, (a shell like that of a periwinkle,) so that they have frequent opportunities of attending religious exercises publicly. This seems to be a great means under God of keeping alive the impressions of divine things in their minds.

March 6. "I walked alone in the evening, and enjoyed sweetness and comfort in prayer beyond what I have of late enjoyed. My soul rejoiced in my pilgrim state; and I was delighted with the thoughts of labouring and enduring hardness for God; felt some longing desires to preach the gospel to dear immortal souls; and confided in God, that he would be with me in my work, and that he never would leave nor forsake me to the end of my race. Oh may I obtain mercy of God to be faithful to my dying moment!

Match 7. " In the afternoon went on with my work with freedom and cheerfulness, God assisting me, and enjoyed comfort in the evening.

March 8. " Catechised in the evening. My people answered the questions proposed to them well. I can perceive their knowledge in religion increases daily. And what is still more desirable, the divine influence which has been so remarkable among them, appears still to continue in some good measure. The divine presence seemed to be in the assembly this evening. Some who I have good reason to think are Christians inaeed, were melted with a sense of divine goodness, and their own barrenness and ingratitude, and seemed to hate them-selves^ as one of them afterwards expressed it. Convictions also appeared to be revived in several instances; and divine

truths were attended witli such influence upon the assembly in general, that it might justly be called an evening of divine power.

Lord^s cUw^ March 9. '* Preached from Luke x. 38—4@L The word of God was attended with power and energy up<Hi the audience. Numbers were affected, and concerned to obtain the one thins needful. Several who have given good evideqce of being truly gracious, were much affected with a want of spirituality, and saw the need they stood in of growing in grace. The greater part of those who had been under asxf impressions oi divine things in times past, seemed now to hafe those impressions revived.

^' In the afternoon proposed to have catechised in my usual method. But while we were engaged in the first prayer in the Indian language, as usual, a great part of the assembly was so much moved and affected with divine things, that 1 thought it seasonable and proper to omit the proposing of questions tor that time, and to insist upon the most practical truths. I 8& cordinsly did so: making a further improvement of the passage OI bcripture on which I had discoursed in the former part of the day. There appeared to be a powerful divine influence in the congregation. Several who, as I have reason think, are truly pious, were so deeply affected with a sense of their own barreimess, 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' bom.

" Some poor awakened sinners also appeared to be in anguish of soul to obtain an interest in Christ; so that there was a great mourning in the assembly: many heavy groans, sobs, and tears! and one or two newly come among us, were considerably awakened.

" Methinks it would have refreshed the heart of any who truly love Zion^s interests, to have been in the midst of this divine influence, and seen the effects of it upon saints and sinners. The place of divine worship appeared both solenm and sweet, and was so endeared by a display of the divine presence and grace, that those who had any relish for divine things could not but cry, " How amiable are thy tabernacles,

0 Lord of hosts!" After public worship was over, numbers came to my house, where we sang and discoursed of difine things; and the presence of God seemed here also to be in the midst of us.

" While we were singing^ there was one individual, the woman mentioned in my journal of February 9, who I may venture to say, if I may be allowed to say so much of any person

1 ever saw, was " filled with joy unspeakable and full of glory;" and could not but burst forth in prayer and praises to God be-

£

MEMOIRS OF BRAZNERD. 273

fore 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 §o to Jesus Christ! I am

taid if I live I shall sin again. O do let me die now ! O dear iw, do come ! I cannot stay^ I cannot stay ! O how can I live in this world? do fake my soul away from this sinful place/ O let me never sin any more / O what shall Ido^ what shall I do^ dear Jesus / O dear Jesus /" In this ecstasy she continued some time, uttering these and similar expressions incessantly. The grand argument she used with God to take her away immediately was, that " if she lived she should sin against him." When she had a little recovered herself, I asked her, if Christ was now sweet to her soul ? Whereupon, turning to me with tears in her eyes, and with all the tokens of deep humility f erer saw in any person, she said, ^' I have many times heard ou speak of the goodness and the sweetness of Christ, that e was better than all the world. But O I knew nothing what you meant. I never believed you, I never believed you! But now I know it is true;" or words to that eJBTect. 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, tf they would but come." When I asked her, " If she could not tell them of the goodness of Christ:"—^Turning herself about to some Christless souls who stood by and were much affected, she said, ^^ Oh there is enough in Christ for you if you would but come. O strive, strive to give up your hearts to him,^^ &e. On hearing something of the slory of heaven men* tioned, that there was no sin in that world, she again fell into the same ecstasy of joy and desire of Christ^s coming, repeating her former expressions, '* O dear Lord, do let me go! O what shall I do; what shall I do. I want to go to Christ. I cannot live. O do let me die," &c.

She continued in this sweet frame for more than two hours before she was able to get home. I am very sensible that there mJay be great joys arising even to an ecstasy, where there is stOl no substantial evidence of their being well grounded. But in the present case there seemed to be no evidence wanting in order to prove this joy to be divine, either in regard to its pre* paratives, attendants, or consequents.

Of all the persons whom I have seen under spiritual exer« cise, I scarcely ever saw one appear more bowed and broken onder convictions of sin and misery, or what is usually called a preparatory work, than this woman; nor scarcely any who seemed to have a greater acquaintance with her own heart than she had. She would frequently complain to me of the hardness and rebellion of her heart. Would tell me that her beart rose and quarrelled with God when she thought he would

do with her as he pleased, and send her to hell, notwithstanding her prayers, good frames, die. that her heart was not willing to come to Christ for salvation, but tried every where else for help. As she seemed to be remarkably sensible of her stubbornness and contrariety to God under conviction, so she appeared to be no less remarkably bowed and reconciled to lus sovereignty before she obtained any relief or comfort; something of which I have noticed in my journal of Feb. 9. Since that time she has seemed constantly to breathe the temper and spirit of the new creature: crying after Christ, not through fear of hell as before, but with strong desires after him as her only satisfying portion ; and has manv times wept and sobbed bitterly, because as she apprehendedf, she did not waA coidd not love him. When I have sometimes a^ed her why she i^ peared so sorrowful, and whether it was because she was afraid of hell, she would answer, ^^ No, I be not distressed about (to, but my heart is so wicked I cannot love Christ ;*^ and thereupon burst mto tears. But although this has been the habitual frame of her mind for several weeks together, so that the exercise of grace appeared evident to others; yet she seemed wholly ift-sensible to it herself, and never had any remarkable comfioft and sensible satisfaction until this evening.

This sweet and surprising ecstasy appeared to spring from a true spiritual discovery of the glory, ravishing beauty, and excellency of Christ; and not from any gross imaginary notions of his human nature, such as that of seeing him m such a place or posture, as hanging on the cross, as bleeding and dying, as gently smiling, and the like; which delusions some have been carried away with. Nor did it rise from scMrdid, selfish apprehensions of her having any benefit whatsoever conferred on her; but from a view of his personal excelleacy and transcendant loveliness; which drew forth those vehement desires of enjoying him which she now manifested, and made her long, " to be absent from the body, that she might be present with the Lord."

The attendants of this ravishing comfort were such, as abundantly discovered its spring to be divine; and that it was truly " a joy in the Holy Ghost." Now she viewed divine truths as living realities, and could say, " I know these things are so; I feel that they are true!" Now her soul was resigned to the divine will in the most tender point; so that when I said to her, " What if God should take away your husband* from vou, who was then very sick, how do you think you could bear that?" She replied, " He belongs to God and not to me; he may do with him just as he pleases." Now she had the most tender sense of the evil of sin, and discovered the utmost aver-

'"' The man mentioned in my Journal of January 19.

MEMOIRS OF BRAINERD. '275

sion to it, and longing to die, that she might be delivered from it Now she could freely trust her all with God for time and eternity. When 1 questioned her, " How she would be willing to die and leave her little infant; and what she thought would become of it in that case ?" she answered, " God will take care of it." Now she appeared to have the most humbling sense of her own meanness and unworthiness, her weakness and inability to preserve herself from sin, and to persevere in the way of holiness, crying, " If I live I shall sin." I then thought that I had never seen such an appearance of ecstasy and humility meeting in any one person in all my life before.

" The consequents of this joy are no less desirable and satisfactory than its attendants. She since appears to be a most tender, broken-hearted, affectionate, devout, and humble Christian ; as exemplary in life and, conversation as any person in my congregation. May she still '^ grow in grace and in the knowledge of Christ."

March 10. " Towards night the Indians met together, of their own accord, and sang, prayed, and discoursed of divine things among themselves; at which time there was much affection among them^ Some who are hopefully gracious, appeared to be melted with divine things; and some others seemed much cbnc^ned for their souls. Perceiving their engagement and afiection in religious exercises, I went among them, and prayed, and gave a word of exhortation; and observed two or three somewhat affected and concerned, who scarce ever appeared to be under any religious impressions before. It seemed to be a day and .evening of divine power. Numbers retained the warm impressions of divine things which had been made upon tiieir minds the day before.

*♦ My soul was refreshed with freedom and enlargement, and i hope the lively exercise of faith in secret prayer this night. Sfy will was sweetly resigned to the divine will; my hopes respecting the enlargement of the kingdom of Christ somewhat raised; and I could commit Zion's cause to God as his awn.^^

On Tuesday he speaks of some sweetness and spirituality in Christian conversation. On Wednesday^ complains that he enjoyed not much comfort and satisfaction through the day, because he did but little for God. On Thursday, spent a considerable time in company on a special occasion, but in perplexity, because without salutary religious conversation.

March 14. '^ Was visited by a considerable number of my people and spent some time in religious exercises with them.

March 15. ^^ In the evening catechised. My people answered the questions put to them with surprising readiness and judgment. There appeared some warmth, and a feeling sense of divine things among those who I have reason to hope are real Christians, while I was discoursing upon peace.of conscience and joy in the Holy Ghost. These seemed quickened and enlivened in divine service, though there was not so much appear* ance of concern among those whom I have reason to think in a Christless state,^^

In the former part of the week following he was very ill, and under great dejection; being rendered unserviceable by his ill« ness, and fearing that he should never be serviceable any more; and therefore exceedingly longed for death. But afterwards he was more encouraged, and lite appeared more desirable; because, as he says, he '* had a little dawn of hope that he might be useful in the world/' In the latter part of this week he was somewhat relieved of his illness in the use of means prescribed by his physician.

Lord*8 day^ March 16. '* Preached to my congregation from Heb. ii. 1—3. Divine truths seemed to have some considerable influence upon some of the hearers, and produced many tears, as well as heav^ sighs and sobs, among those who have given evidence of being real Christians, and others also. The impressions made upon the audience appeared in general deep and heart-afiecting; not superficial, noisy, and affected.

" Towards night discoursed again on the Great Salvation. The word was again attended with some power upon the audience. Numbers wept affectionately, and to appearance, tm-feignedly ; so that the Spirit of God seemed to be moving upon the face of the assembly. Baptized the woman particularly mentioned in my journal of last Lord's day, who now as well as then appeared to be in a devout, humble, and excellent frame of mind.

" My house being thronged with my people in the evening, I spent the time in reli^ous exercises with them, until my nature vvas almost spent. They are so unwearied in religious exercises, and insatiable in their thirsting after Christian knowledge, that I can sometimes scarcely avoid labouring so as greatly to exhaust my strength and spirits.

March 19. " Several of the persons who went with me to the Forks of Delaware in February last, having been detained there by the dangerous illness of one of their company, returned home but this day. Whereupon my people generally met together of their own accord, in order to spend some time in religious exercises; and especially to give thanks to God for

his preserving goodness to those who had been absent from tfiem for several weeks, and recovering mercy to him who had been sick; and that he had now returned them all in safety. As 1 was then absent, they desired my school-master to assist them in carrying on their religious solemnity; who tells me that they appeared engaged and affectionate in repeated prater, smging, &c.

March 22. ^^ Catechised in my usual method in the evening. My people answered questions to my great satisfaction. There appeared nothing very remarkable in the assembly, considering what has been common among us. Although I may justly say, the strict attention, the tenderness and affection, the many tears and heart-affecting sobs, appearing in numbers in the assembly would have been very remarkable, were it not that God has made these things common with us, and even with strati' gers soon after their coming among us from time to time. I am far from thinking that every appearance and particular instance of affection that has been among us has been truly Senuine, and purely from a divine influence. I am sensible of . le contrary; and doubt not but that there has been some corrupt mixture, some chaff as well as wheat; especially since religious concern appeared so common and prevalent here.

£ord^9 day^ March 23. " There being ^owlffteen strangers^ adult persons, come among us in the week past, several of whom had never been in any religious meeting till now, I thought it proper to discourse this day in a manner peculiarly suited to their circumstances and capacities; and accordingly attempted it from Hosea xiii. 9. " O Israel, thou hast destroyed thyself," &c. In the forenoon, I opened in the plainest manner I could, man^s i4)ostasy and ruined state, after having spoken some ^ngs respectmg the being and perfections of God, and his creation of man in a state of uprightness and happiness. In the afternoon endeavoured to open the glorious provision which God has made for the redemption of apostate creatures, by giving his own dear Son to suffer for them, and satisfy divine justice on their behalf. There was not that affection and concern in the assembly which has been common among us; although there was a desirable attention appearing in general, and even in most of the strangers.

" Near sun-sot I felt an uncommon concern upon my mind, especially for the poor strangers^ that God had so much withheld his presence and the powerful influence of his Spirit from the assembly in the exercises of the day; and thereby withheld from them that decree of conviction which I hoped they might have had. In this frame I visited several houses and discoursed with some concern and affection to several persons particu-larty; but without much appearance of success, till I came to a house where several of the strangers were. There the solemn

truths on which I discoursed appeared to take effect; first upoa some children, then upon several adult persons who had been * somewhat awakened before, and afterwards upon several of the Pagan strangers.

" 1 continued my discourse with some fervency, until almost every one in the house was melted into tears, and divers wept aloud, and appeared earnestly concerned to obtain an interert in Christ Upon this numbers soon gathered from all the houses round about, and so thronged the place that we were obliged to remove to the house where we usually met for public worship. The congregation gathering immediately, and many appearing remarkably affected, I discoursed some time from Luke xix. lU. For the Son of man is come to seek^ &c endeavouring to open the mercy, compassion, and concern of Christ for lost, helpless, and undone sinners. There was much vbiUe concern and affection in the assembly, and I doubt not but that a divine influence accompanied what was spoken to the hearts of many. There were five or six of the strangers, men and women, who appeared to be considerably awakened; and in particular one very rugged young man, who seemed as H nothing would move him, was now brought to tremble like the jailer, and weep for a long time.

^^ The Pagans who were awakened, seemed at once to put off their savage roughness and Pagan manners, and became sociable, orderly, and humane in their carriage. When they first came, I exhorted my religious people to take pains with them as they had done with other strangers from time to time, to instruct them in Christianity. But when some of them attempted something of that nature, the strangers would soon rise up and walk to other houses in order to avoid the hearing of such discourses. Whereupon some of the serious persons agreed to disperse themselves into the several parts of the settlement, so that wherever the strangers went, they met with some instructive discourse and warm addresses respecting their salvation. But now there was no need of using policy in order to get an opportunity of conversing with some of them about their spiritual concerns; for they were so far touched with a sense of their perishing state, as made them voluntarily yield to the closest addresses which were made them respecting their sin and misery, their need of an acquaintance with, and interest in the great Redeemer.

March 24. " Numbered the Indians to see how many souls God had gathered together here since my coming into these parts, and found there were now about an hundred and thirty persons together, old and young. Sundry of those who are my stated hearers, perhaps to the number oi ffteen or twenty^ were absent at this season. If all had been together, the number would now have been \^rj considerable; especially con-

gidering bow few were together at my first coming into this part of the country, the whole number then not amounting to ten persons at that time.

" My people were out this day with the design of clearing 8ome of their land, above fifteen miles distant from this settlement, in order to their settling there in a compact form, where they might be under the advantages of attending the public worship of God, of having their children taught in a school, imd at the same time have a conveniency for planting : their laioA in the place of our present residence being of little or no value lor that purpose. The design of their settling thus in a body, and cultivating their lands, of which they have done very little in their Pagan state, being of such necessity and im-

r>rtance to their religious interest, as well as worldly comfort, tboii^ht it proper to call them together, and show them the duty CH labouring with faithfulness and industry, and that they BHist bot now ^^ be slothful in business,^^ as they had ever been Id their Pagan state. I endeavoured to press the importance ;c^ their beipg laborious, diligent, and vigorous in the prosecution of their business; especially at the present juncture, the season of planting being now near, in order to their being in a capacity of living together, and enjoying the means of grace and instruction. Having given them directions for their work, which they very much wanted, as well as for their behaviour m divers respects, I explained, sang, and endeavoured to incul* caie upon them the c^sxviith JPsalm, common metre. Dr. Watts* version; and having recommended them, and the de«i^ of ibeir going forth, to God, by prayer with them, I dismissed Ihem to their business.

** After the Indiems were gone to their work, to clear their lands, I retired by myself, and poured out my soul to God, that lie would smile on their feeble beginnings, and that he would settle an Indian town, which might be a mountain of holiness. I found my soul much refreshed in these petitions, and much .enlarged for Zion^s interest, and for numbers of dear friends in particular. My sinking spirits were revived and raised; and I felt animated in the service to which God ha;s called me.

" 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. O how sweet were the thoughts of labouring for God, when I felt any spirit and courage, and had any hope that I ever should be succeeded.

** In the evening read and expounded to those of my people who were yet at home, and to the strangers newly come, the substance of the third chapter of the Acts. Numbers seemed to melt under the word; especially while I was discoursing upon ver. 19. *^ Repent ye, therefore, and be converted,*' &c.

Several of the strangers also were affected. When I zAxA them afterwards, Whether they did not now feel that tb^ hearts were wicked as I had taught them; one of them replied, " Yes, she felt it now." Although before she came here, upon hearing that I taught the Indians that their hearts were all bad by nature, and needed to be changed and made good by the power of God ; she had said," Her heart was not wicked, and she had never done any thing that was bad in her life.*^ This, indeed, seems to be the case with them, I think, universally, in their Pagan state. They seem to have no conscioiii-ness of sin and guilt, unless they can charge themselves widi some gross acts of sin contrary to the conmiands of the seccid table.''

The next day his schoolmaster Was taken sick with a pleih risy, and he spent a ffreat part of the remainder of this week in attending him. In his weak state, this was an almost overbearing burden; he being obliged constantly to wait uponhua from day to day, and to lie on the floor at night His spiriti sunk in a considerable degree, with his bodily strength^ under this burden.

March 27. " Discoursed to a number of my people in one of their houses in a more private manner. Inquired particularly into their spiritual states, in order to see what impressions they were under. Laid before them the marks of a regenerate, as well as of an unregenerate state ; and endeavoured to suit and direct my discourse to them severally, according as I apprehended their states to be. There was a considerable number gathered together before I finished my discourse, and several seemed mucn affected while I was urging the necessity and infinite importance of getting into a renewed state. I find particular and close dealing with souls in private, is often very successful.

March 29. " In the evening, catechised as usual, upon Saturday. Treated upon the benefits which believers receive from Christ at death. The questions were answered with great readiness and propriety; and those who I have reason to think, are the dear people of God, were in general sweetly melted. 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 mentioned, that they seemed not only to be " looking for," but " hasting to the coming of the day of God." Divine truths seemed to distil upon the aiKlience with a gentle, but melting efllicacy, as the refreshing " showers upon the new mown grass." The assembly, in general, as well as those who appear truly religious, were affected with some brief accounts of the blessedness of the godly at death; and most of them

MEMOIRS OF BRAINERD. S81

then discovered an affectionate inclination to cry, ^^ Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his :^^ although many were not duly engaged to obtain the change of heart that is necessary to that blessed end. ' Lord*8 day^ March 30. " Discoursed from Matt. xxv. 31—40. There was a very considerable moving, and affectionate melting in the assembly. 1 hope that there were some real, deep, and abiding impressions of divine things made upon the minds {rf* many. There was one aged man, newly come among us, who i^peared to be considerably awakened, that never was touched with any concern for his soul before. In the evening, catechised. There was not that tenderness and melting en-

Egement among God^s people, which appeared the evening tore, and many other times. They answered the <}uestions distinctly, and well, and were devout and attentive m divine service.

March 31. ^^ Called my people together as 1 had done the Monday evening before, and discoursed to them again on the necessity and importance of labouring industrious^ in order to their living together, and enjoying the means of grace, &c. Having engaged in a solemn prayer to God amons them for a blessmg upon their attempts, I dismissed them to meir work. Numbers of them both men and women, seemed to offer themselves willingly to this service; and some appeared affectionately concerned that God might go with them, and begin their little town for them; that by his blessing it might be a place comfortable for them and theirs, with regard both to procuring the necessaries of life, and to attending on the worship of God.

" Towards night, 1 enjoyed some sweet meditations on these words : * It is good for me to draw near to God.' My soul, I think, had some sweet sense of what is intended in those words."

The next day he was extremely busy in taking care of the school-master, and in some other necessary affairs, which greatly diverted him from what he looked upon as his proper business ; but yet he speaks of comfort and refreshment at some time of the day.

April 2. " I was somewhat exercised with a spiritual frame of mind ; but was a little relieved and refreshed in the evening with meditation alone in the woods. But alas ! my days pass away as the chaff; it is but little I do, or can do, that turns to any account; and it is my constant misery and burden, that 1 am so fruitless in the vineyard of the Lord. Oh that I were ^pure spirit; that I might be active for God ! This, I think more than any thing else, makes me long that this cor-

ruptible might put on incorruption, and this mortal put on immortality. God deliver me from clogs, fetters, and a body of deaths which impede my service from him."

The next day he complains bitterly of some exercises by corruption, which he found in his own heart.

April 4. ^' Spent the most of the day in writing on Revelation xxiL 17.— *• And whosoever will,^ &c. Enjoyed some freedom and encouragement in my work; and founa some comfort ia prayer.

. April 5. ^^ Catechised in the evening. There appeared to be some affection and fervent engagement in divine service throuj^ the assembly in general; especially towards the conclusion of my discourse. After public worship, a number of those, who 1 nave reason to think, are truly religious, came to my house, and seemed eager for some furtiier entertainment upon divine things. While I was conversing with them about their scriptural exercises; observing to them, that God^s work in the hearts of all his children, was for substance the same; and that their trials and temptations were also alike; and showing the obUgations such were under to love one another in a peculiar manner;—^tbey seemed to be melted into tenderness and affection towards each other. I thought that that particular token of their being the disciples of Christ, viz. of their having love one towards another, bad scarcely ever appeared more evident than at this time.

After public worship, a number of my dear Christian Indians came to my house ; with whom I felt a sweet union of soul. My heart was knit to them; and I cannot say I have felt such a sweet and fervent love to the brethren, for some time past 1 saw in them appearances of the same love. This gave me somewhat of a view of the heavenly state; and particularly of that part of the happiness of heaven which consists in the communion of saints; and this was affecting to me.

Lord^s day^ April 6. "Preached from Matt. vii. 21—^23, Not every one that saith unto me, Lord^ Lordj ^c. There were considerable effects of the word visible in the audience, and such as were very desirable; an earnest attention, a great solemnity, many tears and heavy sighs, which were modestly suppressed in a considerable measure, and appeared unaffected and without any indecent commotion of the passions. Numbers of the religious people were put upon serious and close examination of their spiritual state, by hearing that ' not every one that saith to Christ Lord, Lord, shall enter into his kingdom.' Some expressed fears lest they had deceived themselves, and taken up a false hope, because they found they had done so little of the will of his Father who is in heaven.

" There was one man brought under very great and pressidg concern for-his soul; which appeared more especially after his retirement from public worship. That, which he says gave him his great uneasiness, was, not so much any particular sin, bs that he had never done the will of God at all, but had sinned continually, and so had no claim to the kingdom of Heaven. In the afternoon, I opened to them the discipline of Christ in his Church, and the method in which offenders are to be dealt with. At which time the religious people were much affected; especially when they heard that the offender continuing obstinate, must finally be esteemed and treated ' as an Heathen man,^ and Pagan, who has no part nor lot among God^s visible people. Of this thc^ seemed to have the most awful apprehensions; a state of Heathenism, out of which they were so lately brought, appearing very dreadful to them.

"After public worship, I visited several houses, to see how they spent the remainder of the sabbath, and to treat with them solemnly on the great concerns of their souls. The Lord seemed to smile upon my private endeavours, and to make these particular and personal addresses more effectual upon some, than my public discourses.

April 7. " Discoursed to my people in the evening, fi-om 1 Cor. xi. 23—^26.' For 1 have received of the Lord^ &c. Endeavoured to open to them the institution, nature and ends of the Lord^s Supper, as well as of the qualifications and preparations necessary to the right participationof that ordinance. Numbers appeared much affected with the love of Christ, manifested in his making this provision for the comfort of his people, at a season when himself was just entering upon his sharpest sufferings."

On Tuesday he went to the meeting of the Presbytery appointed at Elizabethtown. In his way thither he enjoyed some sweet meditations : but after he came there, he was as he expresses it, 'very vapoury and melancholy, and under an awfiil gloom which oppressed his mind.^ This continued until Satur-acttf evening; when he began to have some relief and encouragement. He spent the Sabbath at Staten Island ; where he preached to an assembly of Dutch and English, and enjoyed considerable refreshment and comfort, both in public and private. In the evening, he returned to Elizabethtown.

April 14. '' My spirits this day were raised and refi^shed, and my mind composed; so that I was in a comfortable fraihe of so^l most of the day. In the evening, my head was c!e*r, my mind serene; I enjoyed sweetness in secret prayer and meditation on Psalm Ixxiii. 28. 'But it is good for me to draw near to God;' &c. O how free, how comfortable, cheer-

fill, and. yet golenui, do I feel when I am ia a good ukeium freed from those damps and melancholy glooois under vriiichl (rflen labour* Blessed be the Lord I find myself leliefed ia this, respect

AmitlS. ^^My soul lonffed for more q>irituality; and H wn myburden that I could do no more for God. O, my baim-ness in my daily affliction and heavy load I O how precioa is time, and how it pains me to see it slide away, while 1 dais little to any good purpose. O that God would make me nhm fruitfiil ana splritiud.^*

The next daj he speaks of his being almost overwhcfaial with ywpaary disorders; but yet not so as wholly todestngr the composure of his mind.

'v

April 17. ^ Enioyed some comfort in prayer, some fireedoll in meditation, and composure in my studies. Spent some ^M in writing in the forenoon. In the afternoon spent some titai in-conversation with several dear ministers. In the eveiAi| preached from Psahn IxxuL 28. * But it is ffood for me to dn0 near to God.' (rod helped me to feel the'truths of n^ ifftii both in the first prayer and in the sermon. I was enabled Is pour out my soul to God with great freedom, fenrenct and a^ lection; and, blessed be the Lord, it was a comfcnrtable noay " to me. I was enabled to speak with tenderness, and yet widi faithfulness: and divine truths seemed to fall wiU^ we^j^ anl influence upon the hearers. My heart was melted for Ihe dear assembly; and I loved every body in it; and scarcely ever felt more love to immortal souls m my life. My soul criedf, ^Oh that the dear creatures might be saved! Oh that God would have mercy upon them!' "

He seems to have been in a very comfortable frame of mind the two next days.

Lord*s daifi April 20.* ^^ Discoursed, both forenoon and af^ ternoon firom Luke xxiv. explaining most of the chapter, aod makinff remarks upon it. There was a desirable attention in the audience; though there was not so much appearance of 8& fection and tenderness among them as had been usual. Oar meeting was very fiill; there being sundry strangers present who had never been with us before. Enjoyed some fireedom, and, I hope, exercise of faith, in prayer in the morning, e^e-cially when I came to jpra^ for Zion. I was free from mal gloomy discoura^ment which so often oppresses my mind; and my soul rejoiced in the hopes of Zion^s prosperity, and the

* This day he entered Uie^29Ui year of his age.

enlargement of the dear kingdom of the great Redeemer. O that his kingdom might come !

" In the evening catechised. My people answered the questions proposed to them readily and distinctly; and I could perceive that they advanced in their knowledge of the principles of Christianity. There appeared an affectionate melting in the assembly at this time. Several, who I trust are trdy religious, were refreshed and quickened, and seemed by their discourse and behaviour after public worship to have their " hearts knit together in love." This was a sweet and blessed season, like many others with which my poor people have been favoured in months past. God has caused this little fleece to be repeatedly wet with the blessed dew of his divine grace, while all the earth around has been comparatively dry.

April 21. " Was composed and comfortable in mind most of the day; and was mercifully freed from those bloomy damps with which I am frequently exercised. Had freedom and comfort in prayer several times; and especially had some rising hopes of Zion^s enlargement and prosperity. Oh how refreshing were those hopes to my soul! Oh that the kingdom of the dear Lord might come. Oh that the poor Indians might quickly be gathered in great numbers !

April 23. " My mind was remarkably free this day from me-lancnoly damps and glooms, and animated in my work. I found such fresh vigour and resolution in the service of God, that the mountains seemed to become a plain before me. O 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 tor divine blessings; especially for the church of God, and his interest among my own people, and for dear friends in remote places. Oh that Zion might prosper, and precious souls be brought home to God !"

In this comfortable fervent frame of mind he remained the two next days.

April 25. " Of late I apprehended that a number of persons in my congregation were proper subjects of the ordinance of the Lord^s supper, and that it might be seasonable speedily to administer it to them ; and having taken advice of some of the

this day, as preparatory thereto, was set apart for solenm fasting and prayer.

** The design of this preparatory solemnity was to implore the blessing of God upon our renewing covenant with him, and with one another, to walk together in the fear of God, in love

!J86 MEMOiaS OF brainerd.

and Christian fellowship, and to entreat that his presence might be with us in our designed approach to his table; as well as to humble ourselves before God on account of the apparent witK-drawment, at least in a measure, of that blessed influence which has been so prevalent upon persons of all ages among us; as also on account of the lising appearance of carelessness, and vanity, and vice among some, who some time since appeared to be touched and afi'ected with divine truths, and brought to wm sensibility of their miserable and perishing state by nature. It was also designed that we might importunately pray for the peaceable settlement of the Indians together in a body; that they might be a commodious congregation for the worship of God; and that God would blast and defeat all the attempts that were, or might be, made against that pious design.*

^' The solemnity was observed ana seriously attended, not only by those who proposed at the Lord^s table, but l^ the whole congregation universally. In the former part of the dy, I endeavoured to open to my people the nature and design of a fast, as I had attempted more briefly to do before, and to instruct them in the duties of such a solenmity. In the aftemooD I insisted upon the special reasons there were for otir engaging it these solemn exercises at this time; both in regard of the need we stood in of divine assistance, in order to a due preparation for that sacred ordinance upon which some of us were proposing, with leave of divine providence speedily to attend; and also in respect of the manifest decline of God's work here, as to the eflectual conviction and conversion of sinners ; there having been few of late deeply awakened out of a state of security. The worship of God was attended with great solemnity and reverence, with much tenderness and many tears, by those who appeared to be truly religious ; and there was some appearance of divine power upon those who had been awakened some time before, and who were still under concern.

" After repeated prayer, and attendance upon the word of God, I proposed to the religious people, with as much brevity and plainness as I could, the substance of the doctrine of the Christian faith, as I had formerly done previous to their baptism; and had their renewed cheerful assent to it. I then led them to a solemn renewal of their baptismal covenant; wherein they had explicitly and publicly given up themselves to God the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, avouching him to be their God ; and

* There was at this time a terrible clamour raised ag^ainst the Indians in ra-rious places in the country, and insinuations as though I was training them up to cut people's throats. Numbers wished to have them banished from these parts, and some gave out great words in order to fright and deter them from settling upon the best and most convenient tract of their own lands; threatening to trouble them in the law; pretending a claim to these lands themselves, although never purchased of the Indians.

at the same time renouncing their heathenish vanities, their idolatrous and superstitious practices; solemnly engaging to take the Word of God, so far as it was or might be made known to them, for the rule of their lives; promising to walk together in love, to watch over themselves and one another, to lead lives of seriousness and devotion, and to discharge the relative duties incumbent on them respectively, &c. This solemn transaction was attended with much gravity and seriousness ; and at the same time with the utmost readiness, freedom and cheerfulness; and a religious union and harmony of soul seemed to crown the whole solemnity. I could not but think in the evening, that there had been manifest tokens of the divine presence with us in all the several services of the day; though it was also manifest that there was not that concern among Christless souls which has often appeared there. April 26. " Toward noon prayed with a dying child, and

S.ve a word of exhortation to the bystanders to prepare for ath; which seemed to take effect upon some. In the afternoon discoursed to my people from Matthew xxvi. 26—^, of the author, the nature, and designs of the Lord^s supper; and endeavoured to point out the worthy receivers of that ordinance.

" The religious people were affected, and even melted, with divine truths,—with a view of the dying love of Christ Several otheis, who had been for some months under convictions of their perishing state, appeared now to be much moved with concern, and afresh engaged in seeking after an interest in Christ; although I cannot say that the word of God appeared so quick and powerful, so sharp and piercing to the assembly as it had sometimes formerly done. Baptized two adult persons ; both serious and exemplary in their lives, and I hope truly religious. One of them was the man particularly mentioned in my journal of the 6th instant; who, although he was S'eatly distressed, because ^' he had never done the will of od,'' has since, it is hoped, obtained spiritual comfort upon good grounds.

" In the evening I catechised othose, who were designed to partake of the Lord^s supper the next day, upon the institution, nature and end of that ordinance ; and had abundant satisfaction respecting their doctrinal knowledge and fitness in that respect for an attendance upon it. They likewise appeared in general to have an affecting sense of the solemnity of this sacred ordinance, and to be humbled under a sense of their own unworthiness to approach to God in it; and to be earnestly concerned that they might be duly prepared for an attendance upon it.—Their hearts were full of love one toward another, and that was the frame of mind which they seemed concerned to maintain and bring to the Lord's table with them. In the

!288 MEMOIRS OF BRAINSaD.

singing and prayer after catechising, there appeared an agreeable tenderness and melting among them ; and such tokens d' brotherly love and aiOTection, as would even constrain onetosav «^ Lord, it is ^ood to be here ;'*'* it is good to dwell where such an heavenly mfluence distils.

Lord's day, April 27. " Preached from Tit ii. 14, »Who gave himself for us/ &c. The word of God at this time, wu attended with some appearance of divine power upon the assembly ; so that the attention and gravity of the audience weie remarkable ; and especially towards the conclusion of the exercise, divers persons were much affected. Administered the sacrament of the Lord's supper to twenty three persons of the Indians, tlie number of the men and women being nearly equal; several others, to the number of five or six, being now absent at the Forks of Delaware, who would otherwise have communed with us. The ordinance *was attended with great solemnity, and with a most desirable tenderness and affection. It was remarkable that in the season of the performance of the sacramental actions, especially in the distribution of the bread, they seemed to be affected in a most lively manner, as if Christ had been really crucified before them. The words of the institution, when repeated and enlarged upon in the season of the administration, seemed to meet with the same reception, to be entertained with the same free and fiili belief and affectionate engagement of soul, as if the Lord Jesus Christ himself had been present, and had personally spoken to them. The affections of the communicants, although considerably raised, were, notwithstanding, agreeably regulated and kept within proper bounds. So that there was a sweet, gentle, and affectionate melting without any indecent or boisterous commotion of the passions.

" Having rested sometime after the administration of the sacrament, being extremely tired with the necessary prolixity of the work, 1 walked from house to house, and conversed particularly with most of the communicants, and found they had been almost universally refreshed at the Lord's table, ' as with new wine.' Never did I see such an appearance of Christian love amon^ any people in all my life. It was so remarkable, that one might well have cried with an agreeable surprise, * Behold how they love one another.' I think there could be no greater tokens of mutual affection among the people of God, in the early days of Christianity, than what now appeared here. The sight was so desirable, and so well becoming the gospel, that nothing less could be said of it than that it was ^ the doing of the Lord,' the genuine operation of Him,' who is Love.'

" Toward nisht discoursed again on the forementioned text, Tit. ii. 14; and insisted on the immediate end and design of Christ's death: viz. That he might redeem his people from all

iniquity, &c. This appeared to be a season of divine power among us. The religious people were much refreshed, and seemed remarkably tender and affectionate, full of love, joy, and peace, and desirous of being completely ^ redeemed from all iniquity;^ so that some of them afterwards told me that 'they had never felt the like before/ Convictions also appeared to be revived in many instances; and several persons were awakened, whom I had never observed under any religious impressions before.

^*' Such was the influence which attended our assembly, and so unspeakably desirable the frame of mind which many enjoyed in divine service, that it seemed almost grievous to conclude the public worship. The congregation, when dismissed, although it was then almost dark, appeared loth to leave the place and employments which had been rendered so dear to them by the benefits enjoyed, while a blessed quickening influence distilled upon them. Upon the whole, I miist say, I had great satisfaction relative to the administration of tnis ordinance in various respects. I have abundant reason to think, that those who came to the Lord^s table had a j^ood degree of doctrinal knowledge of the nature and design of the ordinance, and that they acted with understanding in what they did.

^ In the preparatory services, I found, I may justly say, uncommon freedom in opening to their understandings and capacities the covenant of grace, and in showing them the ncUure of this ordinance as a seal of that covenant; although many of them knew of no such thing as a secd^ before my coming among them, or at least, of the use and design of it in the common affairs of life. They were likewise thoroughly sensible, that it was no more than a seal^ or sign^ and not the recH body and blood of Christ; that it was designed for the refreshment and edification of the soul^ and not for the feasting of the body. They were also acquainted with the end of the ordinance, that they were therein called to commemorate the dying love of Christ.

"This competency of doctrinal knowledge, together with their grave and decent attendance upon the ordinance, their affectionate melting under it, and the sweet and Christian frame of mind which they discovered after it, gave me great satisfaction respecting my administration of it to them. O, what a sweet and blessed season was this! God himself, I am persuaded, was in the midst of his people, attending on his own ordinance. I doubt not but many, in the conclusion of the day, could say with their whole hearts, * Verily, a day thus spent in God's house, is better than a thousand elsewhere.* There seemed to be but one heart amon^ the pious people. The sweet union, harmony and endearing love and tenderness

Vol. X. 37

subsisting among them was, I thought, the most lively emblem of the heavenly world, which I had ever seen.

April 28. ^^ Concluded the sacramental solemnity with a discourse upon John xiv. 15. * If ye love me, keep my commandments.^ At this time there appeared a very agreeable tenderness in the audience in general, but especially in the communicants. O, how free, how engaged and affectionate did these appear in the service of God ! they seemed willing to have their ears bored to the door posts of God^s house, and to be bis servants forever.

^^ Observing numbers in this excellent frame, and the assembly in general affected, and that by a divine iniiuence, I thought it proper to improve this advantageous season as Hezekiah did the desirable season of his great passover, 2 Chron. xxxi. in order to promote the blessed rerormation begun among them; and to engage those that appeared serious and religious to persevere therein. Accordingly I proposed to them, that they should re-newedly enter into covenant before God, that they would watch over themselves and one another, test they should dishonour the name of Christ, by falling into sinful and unbecoming practices ; and especially that they would watch against the sin of drunkenness, ^ the sin that most easily besets them,' and the temptations leading thereto, as well as the appearance of evil in that respect. They cheerfully complied with the proposal, and explicitly joined in that covenant; whereupon I proceeded in the most solemn manner of which I was capable, to call God to witness respecting their sacred engagements, and reminded them of the greatness of the guilt they would contract to themselves in the violation of it; as well as observed to them that God would be a terrible witness against those who should presume to do so in the great and notable day of the Lord. It was a season of amazing solemnity; and a divine awe appeared upon the face of the whole assembly in this transaction. Affectionate sobs, sighs and tears were now frequent in the audience; and I doubt not but that many silent cries were then sent up to the Fountain of grace for supplies of grace sufficient for the fulfilment of these solemn engagements. Baptized six children this day."

On Tuesday, April 29, he went to Elizabetli Town to attend the meeting of the Presbytery ; and seemed to spend the time while absent from his people on this occasion, in a free and comfortable state of mind.

" Cranberry, N. J. May, 1746.

May 3. " Rode from Elizabeth Town home to my people at or near Cranberry ; whither they are now removed, and where I

MEMOIRS OF BRAINERD. '291

hope God will settle them as a Christian congregation. Was refreshed in lifting up my heart to God, while riding, and en-jo^^ a thankful frame of spirit for divine favours received the week past.

" Was somewhat uneasy and dejected in the evening; having no house of my own to go to in this place ; but God was my support.

Lord^s day^ May 4. " My people being now removed to their lands, mentioned in my diary of March 24, where they were then and have since been making provision for a compact settlement, in order to their more convenient enjoyment of the S gospel and other means of instruction, as well as of the com-brts of life; I this day visited them ; being now obliged to board with an English family at some distance from them; and preached to them in the forenoon from Mark iv. 5. ' And some fell upon stony ground,' &c. Endeavoured to show them the reason there was to fear, lest many promising ap-pjearances and hopeful beginnings in religion, might prove abortive, like the seed dropped upon stony places.

" In the afternoon discoursed upon Rom. viii. 9. ' Now, if any man have not the spirit of Christ, he is none of his.' I have reason to think this discourse was peculiarly seasonable, and that it had a good effect upon some of the hearers. Spent some hours afterwards in private conference with my people, and laboured to regulate some things which I apprehended amiss among some of them.

May 5. " Visited my people again, and took care of their worldly concerns ; giving them directions relating to their business. I daily discover more and more of what importance it is likely to be to their religious interests, that they become laborious and industrious, acquainted with the affairs of husbandry, and able in a good measure to raise the necessaries and comforts of life within themselves ; for their present method of living greatly exposes them to temptations of various kinds.

May 6. " Enjoyed some spirit and courage in my work; was in a good measure free from melancholy ; blessed be God for freedom from this death.

May 7. " Spent most of the day in writing as usual. Enjoyed some freedom in my work. Was favoured with some comfortable meditations this day. In the evening was in a sweet composed frame of mind : was pleased and delighted to leave all with God respecting myself for time and eternity, and respecting the people of my charge, and dear friends. Had no doubt but that God would take care of me and of his own interest among my people ; and was enabled to use freedom in prayer as a child with a tender father. O how sweet is such a frame!

May 8. " In the evening, was somewhat refreshed with divine things, and enjoyed a tender melting frame in secret

prayer; wherein my soul was drawn out for the interests of Zion, and comforted with the lively hope of the appearinff of the great Redeemer. These were sweet moments; I felral* most loth to go to bed, and grieved that sleep was necessary. However I lay down with a tender reverential fear of God, sensible that his favour is life, and his smiles better than all that earth can boast of, infinitely better than life itseIC

May 9. " Preached from John v. 40. ^ And ye will not come to me,^ &c. in the open wilderness ; the Indians having as yet no house for public worship in this place, nor scarceb any shelters for themselves. Divine truths made considerable impressions upon the audience, and it was a season of great solemnity, tenderness and affection.

*^ Baptized one man this day, the conjurer, murderer, Ac mentioned in my diary of Aug. 8, 1745, and Feb. 1, 1746, who appears to be such a remarkable instance of divine grace, that I cannot omit to give some brief account of him nere. He lived near, and sometimes attended my meeting, at the Forb of Delaware, for more than a year together; but was, like many others of them, extremely attached to strong drink, and seemed to be in no degree reformed by the means which I used with them for their instruction and conversion. At this time he likewise murdered a likely young Indian, which threw him into some kind of horror and desperation, so that he kept at a distance from me, and refused to hear me preach for several months together, until I had an opportunity of conversing freely with him, and giving him encouragement, that his sin might be forgiven, for Christ's sake. Afler this he again attended my meeting sometimes.

»* But that which was the worst of all his conduct, was his conjuration. He was one of those who are sometimes called powaws, among the Indians ; and, notwithstanding his frequent attendance upon my preaching, he still followed his old charms and juggling tricks, ' giving out that himself was some great one, and to him they ^ave heed,' supposing him to be possessed of great power. When I have instructed them respecting the miracle wrought by Christ in healing the sick, and mentioned them as evidence of his divine mission, and the truths of his doctrine ; they have quickly observed the wonders of that kind, which this man had performed by his magic charms. Hence they had a high opinion of him and his superstitious notions; which seemed to be a fatal obstruction to some of them in regard to their receiving the Gospel. 1 have often thought that it would be a great favour to the design of evangelizing these Indians, if God would take that wretch out of the world ; for I had scarcely any hope of his ever becoming good. But God, whose thoughts are not as man's thoughts, has been pleased to take a much more desirable method with

him; a method agreeable to his own merciful nature, and I trust advantageous to his own interests among the Indians, as well as effectual to the salvation of his poor soul. To God be the glory of it. The first genuine concern for his soul, that ever appeared in him, was excited by seeing my Interpreter and his wife baptized at the Forks of Delaware, July 21, 1745. Which so prevailed upon him, that with the invitation of an Indian who was a friend to Christianity, he followed me down to Crossweeksung, in the beginning of August following in order to hear me preach; and there continued for several weeks in the season of the most remarkable and powerful awakening among the Indians; at which time he was more effectually awakened, and brought under great concern for his soul. And then he says, upon his ^ feeling the word of God in his heart,' as he expresses it, his spirit of conjuration left him en* tirely, so that he has had no more power of that nature since, than any other man living. He also declares, that he does notnow so much as know, how he used to charm and conjure, and that he could not now do any thing of that nature if he were ever so desirous of it.

^^ He continued under convictions of his sinful and perishing state, and a considerable degree of concern for his soul, all the fall and former part of the winter past; but was not so deeply exercised until some time in January. Then the word of God took such hold upon him, that he was brought into deep distress, and knew not what to do, nor where to turn himself. He then told me, that when he used to hear me preach from time to time in the fall of the year, my preaching pricked his heart, and made him very uneasy^ but did not bring him to so great distress, because he still hoped he could do something for his own relief; but now he said, I drove him up in such a sharp corner, that he had no way to turn, and could not avoid being in distress. He continued constantly under the heavy burden and pressure of a wounded spirit, until at length he was brought into the acute anguish and utmost agony of soul, mentioned in my Journal of Feb. 1st. which continued that night and part of the next day. After this he was brought to the utmost calmness and composure of mind; his trembling and heavy burden was removed and he appeared perfectly sedate, although he had to his apprehensions scarcely any hope of salvation.

** I observed him to appear remarkably composed; and thereupon asked him how he did ? He replied, ' It is done, it is done, it is all done now.' I asked him what he meant ? He answered, ^ I can never do any more to save myself; it is all done for ever. I can do no more.' I queried with him, whether he could not do a little more, rather than go to hell ? He replied ' my heart is dead. I can never help myself.' J

;294 MEMOIRS OF BRAINERD.

asked him what he thought would become of him then 1 He answered ^ 1 must go to hell/ I asked him if he thought it was right, that God should send him to hell ? He replied ^ Oh it is right. The devil has been in me ever since I was born.' 1 asked him if he felt this when he was in such great distress the evening before ? He answered, * No; 1 did not then think it was right. 1 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 ri^ht 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,' &c. I thought I had scarcely ever seen any person dk^ effectually brought off from a dependence upon his own contrivances and endeavours for salvation, or more apparently to lie at the foot of sovereign mercy, than this man did, under these views of things.

^' In this frame of mind he continued for several days, passing sentence of condemnation upon himself, and constantly owning that it would be right he should be damned, and that he expected this would be his portion for the greatness of his sins. Yet it was plain that he had a secret nope of mercy, though imperceptible to himself, which kept him not only bum despair, but from any pressing distress : so that, instead ot being sad and dejected, his very countenance appeared pleasant and agreeable.

" While he was in this frame, he several times asked me, ' When I would preach again V and seemed desirous to hear the word of God every day. I asked, ' Why he wanted to hear me preach, seeing his heart was dead, and all was done; that he could never help himself, and expected that he must go to hell V He replied, ' I love to hear you speak about Christ for all.' I added ' But what good will that do you, if you must go to hell at last ?—using now his own language with him, having before from time to time laboured in the4)est manner I could to represent to him the excellency of Christ, his all-sufficiency and willingness to save lost sinners, and persons just in his case; although to no purpose, as to yielding him any special comfort. He answered, ' 1 would have others come to Christ, if I must go to hell myself.' It was remarkable, that he seemed to have a great love for the people of God; and nothing affected him so much as being separated from them. This seemed to be a very dreadful part of the hell to which he saw himself doomed. It was likewise remarkable, that in this season he was most diligent in the use of all the means for the soul's salvation; although he had the clearest view of the insufficiency of means to afford him help. He would frequently say. That all he did signified nothing at all; and yet was never more constant in doing; attending secret and family prayer daily; and surprisingly diligent and atten-

tive in hearing the word of God ; so that he neither despaired of mercy, nor yet presumed to hope upon his own doings, but used means because appointed of God in order to salvation ; and because he would wait upon God in his own way.

After he had continued in this frame of mind more than a week, while I was discoursing publicly, he seemed to have a lively soul-refreshing view of the excellency of Christ and the way of salvation by him; which melted him into tears, and filled him with admiration, comfort, satisfaction, and praise to God. Since then, he has appeared to be a humble, devout, and affectionate Christian; serious and exemplary in his conversation and behaviour, frequently complaining of his barrenness, his want of spiritual warmth, life, and activity, and yet frequently favoured with quickening and refreshing influences. In all respects, so far as 1 am capable of judging, he bears the marks of one ^created anew in Christ Jesus to good works.'

" His zeal for the cause of God was pleasing to me, when he was with me at the Forks of Delaware m February last. There beinff an old Indian at the place where I preached, who threatened to bewitch me, and my religious people who accompanied me there, this man presently challenged him to do his worst; telling him that himself had been as great a conjurer as he; and that notwithstanding, as soon as he felt that word to his heart which these people loved, meaning the word of God, his power of conjuring immediately left him. * And so it would you,' said he,' if you did but once feel it in your heart; and you have no power to hurt them, nor so much as to touch one of them,' &c. So that I may conclude my account of him, by observing, in allusion to what was said of St. Paul, that he now zealously 'defends and practically preaches the faith which he once destroyed,' or at least was instrumental of obstructing. May God have the glory of the amazing change which he has wrought in him !

May 10. " Rode to Allen's-town to assist in the administration of the Lord's supper. In the afternoon, preached from Titus ii. 14. Who gave himself for us^ &c. God was pleased to carry me through, and to grant me some freedom ; and yet to deny me that enlargement and power for which I longed* In the evening my soul mourned, and could not but mourn, that I had treated so excellent a subject in so defective a manner ; that I had borne so broken a testimony for so worthy and glorious a Redeemer. 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 no more holy warmth and fervency, that I had been no more melted in discoursing of Christ's death and the end and design of it! Afterwards enjoyed some freedom and fervency in family

and secret prayer, and longed much for the presence of God to attend his word and ordinances the next day.

Lard''8 day^ May 11. ^^ Assisted in the administration of the Lord^s supper; but enjoyed but little enlargement: was erieved and sunk with some things, which I thought undesirable, dx. In the afternoon went to the house of God, weak and sick in soul, as well as feeble in body, and longed that the people might be entertained and edified with divine truths, and that an honest fervent testimony might be borne for God; but knew not how it was possible for me to do any thing of that kind to any good purpose. Yet God, who is rich in mercy, was pleased to give me assistance both in prayer and preaching. God helpeclme to wrestle for his presence in prayer, and to tell him that he had promised, ^ Where two or three are met together in his name, there he would be in the midst of them;' and that we were, at least some of us, so met; and pleaded that for his truth's sake he would be with us. Blessed be God, it was sweet to my soul, thus to plead and rely on God's promises. Discoursed upon Luke ix. 30, 31. And behold there talked uM him two men^ which were Moses and EliaSj who appeared in glory, and spake of his decease, which he shotdd accomplish ai Jerusalem. Enjoyed special freedom from the beginning to the end of my discourse without interruption. Things pertinent to the subject were abundantly presented to my view, and such a fulness of matter, that I scarce knew how to dismiss the various heads and particulars I had occasion to touch upon. Blessed be the Lord, I was favoured with some fervency and power, as well as freedom; so that the word of God seemed to awaken the attention of a stupid audience to a considerable degree, I was inwardly refreshed with the consolations of God, and could with my whole heart say, ' Though there be no fruit in the vine, &c, yet will 1 rejoice in the Lord.' After public service, was refreshed with the sweet conversation of some Christian friends."

The four next days seem to have been mostly spent with spiritual comfort and profit.

May 16. " Near night enjoyed some agreeable and sweet conversation with a dear minister; which was, 1 trust, 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 the utmost constancy and ardour! In the evening God was pleased to shine upon me in secret prayer, and draw out my soul after himself; and I had

I

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 O, promote thine own cause! Zion is thine; Oh, visit thine heritage! Let thy kingdom come! Oh let thy blessed interest be advanced in the wond/ When I attempted to look to God respecting my worldly circumstances, and his providential dealings with me relative to niy settling down in my congregation; which seems to be necessary, and yet very difficult, and contrary to my fixed intentions for years past, as well as to my disposition, which has been and still is, at times especially, to go forth, and spend my life in preaching the gospel fi-om place to place, and gathering souls afar off to Jesus the great Redeemer; I could only «ay, " The will of the Lord be done; it is no matter for me." The same fi'ame of mind I felt with regard to another important afiair, of which I have lately had some serious thoughts. 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 it will in any wise hinder my usefulness in thy cause, Oh prevent me from proceeding; for all I want respecting this world IS such circumstances as may best capacitate me to do service for God in the world." But, blessed be God! I enjoyed liberty in prayer for my dear flock, and was enabled to pour out my soul into the bosom of a tender Father. My heart within me was melted, when 1 came to plead for my dear people, and for the kingdom of Christ in general. Oh, how sweet was this evening to my soul! I knew not how to go to bed; and when I got to bed, longed for some way to improve time for God to some excellent purpose. Bless the Lord, O my soul I

May 17. ^' Walked out in the morning, and felt much of the same frame which 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 sensibly to find that I have done something for him, this refreshes and animates me, so that I could break through all hardships, and undergo any labours, and nothing seems too much either to do or to suffer. But oh, what a death it is to sirwe and strive ; to be always in a hurry, and yet do nothing, or at least| nothing/or God I Alas, alas, that time flies away, and I do so little for God!

Lord*8 day. May 18th. " I felt my own utter insufficiency for my work: God made me to see that I was a child ; yea, that 1 was 9, fool. I discoursed both parts of the day from Rev. iii« 90, ^^ Behold, I stand at the door and knock." God gave me freedom and power in the latter part of my forenoon^s dis-

Vol. X. 38

rourse: although, in the former part of it, I felt peevish and provoked with the unmannerly behaviour of the white people, who crowded in between my people and me; which proved .a great temptation to me. But, blessed be God! I got these shackles off before the middle of my discourse, and was favoured with a sweet frame of spirit in the latter part of the exercise; was full of love, warmth, and tenderness in addressing my dear people. There appears some affectionate melting towards the conclusion of the forenoon exercise, and one or two instances of fresh awakening. In the intermission of public worship 1 took occasion to discourse to numbers, in a more private way, on the kindness and patience of the blessed Redeemer in standing and knocking, in continuing his gracious calls to sinners, who had long neglected and abused his grace ; which seemed to take some effect upon several.

" In the afternoon divine truths were attended with solemnity and with some tears; although there was not that powerfal awakening and quickening influence which in times past has been common in our assemblies. The appearance of the audience under divine truths was comparatively discouraging; and I was ready to fear that God was about to withdraw the blessed influence of his Spirit from us.

'' In the evening, 1 was grieved that I had done so little for God. Oh that I could be ^^ a flame offire^^ in the service of my God!

May 19. " Visited and preached to my people from Acts xx. 18, 19, " And when they were come to him^ he said unto them^ Ye know from the first day^"" ^r. and endeavoured to rectify their notions about religious affections ; showing them on the one hand the desirableness of religious affection, tenderness, and fervent engagement in the worship and service of God, when such affection flows from a true spiritual discovery of divine glories from a just sense of the transcendent excellence and perfections of the blessed God,—and a view of the glory and loveliness of the great Redeemer; and that such views of divine things will naturally excite us to " serve the Lord with* many tears, with much affection and fervency, and yet with all humility of mind.'' On the other hand I observed the sinful' ness of seeking after high affections immediately and/or their own sakes; that is, of making them the object which our eye and heart is first and principally set upon, when the glory of God ought to be that object. Showed them, that if the heart be directly and chiefly fixed on God, and the soul engaged to glorify him, some degree of religious affection will be tne effect and attendant of it. But to seek after affection directly and chiefly ; to have the heart principally set upon that ; is to place it in the room of God and his glory. If it be sought, that others may take notice of it, and admire us for our spirituality

and forwardness in religion, it is then abominable/wide; if for the sake of feeling the pleasure of being affected, it is then idolatry and seif-gratification. Laboured also to expose the disagreeableness of those affections, which are sometimes wrought up in persons by the power of fancy, and their own attempts for that purpose, while I still endeavoured to recommend to them that religious affection, fervency, and devotion which ou^ht to attend all our religious exercises, and without which religion will be but an empty name and a lifeless carcase. This appeared to be a seasonable discourse, and proved very satisfactory to some of the religious people, who before were exercised with some difficulties relating to this point. Afterwards took care of, and gave my people directions about their worldly affairs."

On Tuesday^ he complains of want of freedom and comfort ; but had some returns of these on Wednesday.

May 22. " In the evening was in a frame somewhat remarkable. I had apprehended for some days before, that it was the design of Providence that I should settle among my people here, and had in my own mind began to make provision for it, and to contrive means to hasten it; and found my heart somewhat engaged in it; hoping that I might then enjoy more agreeable circumstances cf life in several respects; and yet was never fully determined, never quite pleased with the tfioughts of being settled and confined to one place. Nevertheless! seemed to have some freedom in that respect, because the congregation with which I thought of setthng, was one which God had enabled me to gather from among Pagans. For I never, since I began to preach, could feel any freedom to enter into other men^s labours, and settle down in the ministry where the gospel was preached before. I never could make that appear to be my province. When I felt any disposition to consult my worldly ease and comfort, God has never given me any liberty in this respect, either since, or for some years before, I began to preach. But God having succeeded my labours, and made me instrumental in gathering a church for him among these Indians, I was ready to think it might be his design to give me a quiet settlement, and a stated home of my own. This, considering the late frequent sinking and failure of my spirits, and the need I stood in of some agreeable society, and my great desire of enjoying conveniences and opportunities for profitable studies, was not altogether disagreeable to me. Although I still wanted to go about far and wide, in order to spread the blessed gospel among the benighted souls far remote, yet I never had been so willing to settle in any one place, for more than five years past, as I

was in the preceding part of this week. But now tliese thoughts seemed to be wholly dashed to pieces, not by necessity, but of choice; for it appeared to me that God^s dealings towarcb me had fitted me for a life of solitariness and hardship, and that I had nothing to lose, nothing to do with earth, and consequently nothing to lose by a total renunciation of it. It appeared to me just right that I should be destitute of house and nome, and many of the comforts of life, which I rejoiced to see others of God^s people enjoy. At the same time, I saw so much of the excellency of Christ^s kingdom and the infinite de> sirableness of its advancement in the world, that it swallow-ed up all my other thoughts, and made me willing, yea, even rejoice, to be made b pilgrim or hermit in the wilderness to my dying moment; it I might thereby promote the blessed interest of the great Redeemer. If ever my soul presented itself to God for his service, without any reserve of any kind^ it did so now. The language of my thoughts and disposition now was ^^ Here I am^ Lora, send me ; send me to the ends of the earth ; send me to the roughs the savage Pagans of the wilderness ; send me from all that is called comfort in earthy or earthly comfort ; send me even to death itself if it be but in thy service^ and to promote thy kingdom.'*^ At the same time, 1 had as quick and lively a sense of the value of worldly com* forts, as I ever had : but only saw them infinitely overmatched by the worth of Christ^s kingdom, and the propagation of his blessed gospel. The quiet settlement, the certain place of abode, the tender friendship, which I thought 1 might be likely to enjoy in consequence of such circumstances, appeared as valuable to me, considered absolutely and in themselves^ as ever before ; but considered comparatively^ they appeared nothing. Compared with the value and preciousness of an enlargement of Christ's kingdom, they vanished as stars before the rising sun. Sure I am, that, although the comfortable accommodations of life appeared valuable and dear to me, yet I did surrender and resign myself, soul and body, to the service of God, and to the promotion of Christ's kingdom ; though it should be in the loss of them all, I could not do any other, because I could not will or choose any other. 1 was constrained, and yet chose, to say, " Farewell friends and earthly comforts, the dearest of them all, the very dearest^ if the Lord calls for it: adieu, adieu; I will spend my life, to my latest moments, m caves and dens of the earthy if the kingdom of Christ may thereby be advanced. 1 found extraordinary freedom at this time in pouring out my soul to God for his cause; and especially that his kingdom might be extended among the Indians, far remote ; and I had a great and strong hope that God would do it. I continued wrestling with God in prayer for my dear little flock here; and more especially for the Indians elsewhere ; as

well as for dear friends in one place and another until it was bed time, and I feared I should hinder the family, &c. But, O, with what reluctancy did I feel myself obliged to consume time in sleep! I longed to be as a flame of fire^ continually glowing in the divine service, and building up Christ^s kingdom, to my latest, my dying moment.

May 23. ** In the morning, was in the same frame of mind as in the evening before. The glory of Christ^s kingdom so much outshone the pleasure of earthly accommodations and enjoyments, that they appeared comparatively nothing, though in themselves good and desirable. My soul was melted in secret meditation and prayer ; and I found myself divorced from any part or portion in this world ; so that in those affairs which seemed of the greatest importance to me with respect to the present life, and in those with which the tenderest feelings of the heart are most sensibly connected ; I could only say, ^^ the will of the Lord be done." But just the same things, which I felt the evening before, I felt now, and found the same freedom in prayer for the people of my charge, for the propagation of the gospel among the Indians, and for the enlargement and spiritual wenare of Zion. in general, and my dear mends in particular now, as I did then ; and longed to burn out in one continued flame for God. Retained much of the same frame through the day. In the evening I was visited by my brother John Brainerd ; the first visit which I have ever received from any near relative since I have been a missionary. Felt the same flame of spirit in the evening, as in the morning; and found that it was good for me to draw near to God, and leave all my concerns and burdens with him. Was enlarged and refreshed in pouring out my soul for the propagation of the gospel of the Redeemer among the distant tribes of Indians. Blessed be God. If ever I filled up a day with study and devotion, I was enabled so to fill up this day.

May 24. ^^ Visited the Indians, and took care of their secular business; which they are not able to manage themselves, without the constant care and advice of others. Afterwards discoursed to some of them particularly about their spiritual concerns.—Enjoyed this day somewhat of the same frame of mind which I felt the day before.

Lord?s day^ May 25. " Discoursed both parts of the day from John xii. 44—48. " Jesus cried and said^ He thai believeth an me, &c." There was some degree of divine power attending the word of God. Several wept, and appeared considerably anected, and one, who had long been under spiritual trouble, now obtained clearness and comfort, and appeared to rejoice in God her Saviour. It was a day of grace and divine goodness ; a day wherein something I trust was done for the cause of God among my people; a season of comfort and sweetness to

numbers of the religious people ; although there was not that influence upon the congregation which was common some months ago."

This week^ at least the former part of it, he was in a very weak state, but yet seems to have been free from melancbirf?, which often had attended the failing of his bodily strengto. He from time to time speaks of comfort and inward refreshment this week.

Lord's day, June 1,1746. " Preached both forenoon and afternoon from Matt. xi. 27, 28. The presence of God seemed to be in the assembly ; and numbers were considerably melted and affected under divine truths. There was a desirable ap* • pearance in the congregation in general, an earnest attention and an agreeable tenderness; and it seemed as if God designed to visit us with further showers of divine grace. I then baptized ten persons ijlve adults, and^re children; and was not a little refreshed with this addition made to the church of such as 1 hope will be saved. I have reason to hope that God has lately, at and since our celebration of the Lord's stipper, brought to himself several persons who had long been under spiritual trouble and concern ; although there have been few instances of persons lately awakened out of a state of security. Those comforted of late seem to be brought in, in a more stleni way; neither their concern, nor consolation being so powerful and remarkable, as appeared among those more suddenly wrought upon in the beginning of this work of grace.

June 2. " In the evening, enjoyed some freedom in secret prayer and meditation.

June 3. " My soul rejoiced, early in the morning, to think that all things were at (jlod's disposal. Oh, it pleased me to leave them there ! Felt afterwards much as I did on Thursday evening last. May 22, and continued in that frame for several hours. Walked out in the wilderness, and enjoyed freedom, fervency and comfort in prayer, and again enjoyed the same in the evening.

June 4. " Spent the day in writing, and enjoyed some comfort, satisfaction and freedom in my work. In the evening, I was favoured with a sweet refreshing frame of soul in secret prayer and meditation. Prayer was now wholly turned into praise, and I could do little else but try to adore and bless the living God. The wonders of his grace displayed in gathering to himself a church among the poor Indians here, were the subject matter of my meditation, and the occasion of exciting my soul to praise and bless his name. My soul was scarcely ever more disposed to inquire, What I should ^-ender to God for all his benefits ? than at this time. Oh, I was brought into a strait,

a sweet and happy strait, to know what to do: I longed to make some returns to God; but found I had nothing to return: I could only rejoice that God had done the work himself; and that none in heaven or earth might pretend to share the honour of it with him. I could only be glad that God's declarative glory was advanced by the conversion of these souls, and that it was to the enlargement of his kingdom in the world ; but saw I was so poor that I had nothing to offer to him. My soul and body, through grace, I could cheerfully surrender to him ; but it appeared to me this was rather a burden than a gift; and nothing could I do to glorify his dear and blessed name. Yet Z was glad at heart, that he was unchangeably possessed of

flory and blessedness. Oh that he might be adored and praised y ail his intelligent creatures to the utmost extent of their capacities ! My soul would have rejoiced to see others praise him, though I could do nothing towards it myself."

The next day he speaks of his being subject to some degree of melancholy ; but of being somewhat relieved in the evenings

June 6. ** Discoursed to my people from part of Is. liii. The divine presence appeared to be among us in some measure.— > Several persons were much melted and refreshed; and one man in particular, who had long been under concern for his soul, was now brought to see and feel, in a very lively manner, the impossibility of his doing any thing to help himself, or to bring him into the favour of God, by his tears, prayers and other religious performances; and found himself undone as to any power or goodness of his own, and that there wa;s no way left him but to leave himself with God, to be disposed of as he pleased.

June 7. " Being desired by the Rev. William Tennent to be his assistant in the administration of the Lord's Supper, I this morning rode to Freehold to render that assistance. My people also being invited to attend the sacramental solemnity; they cheerfully embraced the opportunity, and this day attended the preparatory services with me.

" In the afternoon I preached from Psalm Ixxiii. 28. * But it is good for me to draw near to God^'* &c. God gave me some freedom and warmth in my discourse : and 1 trust his presence was in the assembly. Was comfortably composed, enjoyed a thankful frame of spirit, and my soul was grieved, that 1 could not render something to God for his benefits bestowed. O that I could be swallowed up in his praise !

Lord^s day^ June 8. " Spent much time in the morning in secret duties, but between hope and fear respecting the enjoyment of God in the business of the day then before us. Was agreeably entertained in the forenoon by a discourse from Mr.

TUBHiTKNT, and felt lomewbat melted and refreibed. In tbe season of communion, enjoyed some comfort; and eqpeciaBjr in serving one of the tables. Blessed be the Lord I it was • tune of refi^hing to me, and I trust to many others.

^ Most of my people, who had been cammnmeanii at. the Lord^s table, before being present at this sacramental occasion, communed with others in the holy ordinance, at the desure, waA I trust, to the satisfaction and comfort of numbers of God^ pen-pie, who had lonced to see this day^ and whose hearts had rejoiced in this wo» of grace among the Indians, which prmaied the way for what appeared so agreeable at this time. Those of my people who communed, seemed in general, agreeabfy at . fect^ at the Lord^s table, and some of them considnmy melted with the love of Christ, although they were not so remarkably refreshed and feasted at this time, as when I administered this ordinance to them in our own congregation onlf. 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 liiem. Some of the by-standers were afiected with seeinff those who had been ^ aliens from the commonwealth of Israd, and strangers to tbe covenant of promise,^ who of all men had lived * without hope and without God in the world,* now faroug^ near to God^ as his professing people, and seating their covenant with him, by a solemn and devout attendance upon this sacred ordinance; As numbers of God^s people were refreshed with this sight, and thereby excited to bless God for the enlaqre-ment of his kingdom in the world ; so some others, I waB.t<3d« were awakened by it, apprehending the danger they were in of being themselves finally cast out ; while they saw others from the east and west preparing, and hopefully prepared in some ^od measure, to sit down in the kingdom of God. At this season others of my people also, who were not conmiunicants, were considerably afTected; convictions were revived in several instances; and one, the man particularly mentioned in my journal of the 6th instant,obtained comfort and satisfaction; and has since given me such an account of his spiritual exercises, and the manner in which he obtained relief, a& appears v^ hopeful. It seems as if He, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, had now ^ shined into his heart, and given him tbe li^t of,^ and experimental' knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ'

" In the afternoon God enabled me to preach with uncommon freedom, from 2 Cor. v. 20. " Now then we are ambassadors for Christ^^'^ &c. Through the great goodness of God, I was favoured with a constant flow of pertinent matter, and proper expressions, from the beginning to the end of my discourse. In the evening I could not but rejoice in God, and bless him in the manifestations of grace in the day past ? Oh it was a sweet

and solemn day and evening! a season of comfort to the godly, and of awakening to some souls! Oh that I could praise the

Lord !

June 9. " Enjoyed some sweetness in secret duties. A considerable number of my people met together early in a retired place in the woodSy and prayed, sang, and conversed of divine tilings ; and were seen by some religious persons of the white people to be affected and engaged, and divers of them in tears m these religious exercises. Preached the concluding sermon from Gen. v. 24. " And Enoch walked with God^^"* &c. God gave me enlargement and fervency in my discourse, so that I was enabled to speak with plainness and power; and God^s presence seemed to be in the assembly. Praised be the Lord, It was a sweet meeting, a desirable assembly. I found my strength renewed, and lengthened out even to a wonder, so that I felt much stronger at the conclusion than in the beginning of this sacramental solemnity. I have great reason to bless God for this solemnity ; wherein I have found assistance in addressing others, and sweetness in my own soul.

^^ After my people had attended the concluding exercises of the sacramental solemnity, they returned home; many of them rejoicing for all the goodness of God which they had seen and felt: so that this appeared to be a profitable as well as comfortable season to numbers of my congregation. Their being present at this occasion, and a number of them communing at the Lord's table with other Christians, was, 1 trust, for the honour of God and the interest of religion in these parts; as numbers I have reason to think, were quickened by means of it."

On Tuesday^ he found himself spent, and his spirits exhausted by his late labours ; and on Wednesday complainsuof vapoury disorders and dejection of spirits, and of enjoying §ut little comfort and spirituality.

June 12. " In the evening enjoyed freedom of mind and some sweetness in secret prayer. It was a desirable season to me; my soul was enlarged in prayer for my own dear people, and for the enlargement of Christ's kingdom, and especially for the propagation of the Gospel among the Indians, far back in the wilderness. Was refreshed in prayer for dear friends in New England and elsewhere. I found it sweet to pray at this time; and could, with all my heart say, ' It is good for me to draw near to GodJ*

June 13. " Preached to my people upon the new creature^ from 2 Cor. v. 17, * If any man be in Christ,^ &c. The presence of God seemed to be in the assembly. It was a sweet and agreeable meeting, wherein the people of God were re-

VoL. X. 39

freshed and strengthened; beholding their faces in the class of God^s word, and finding in themselves the works and linea* ments of the new creature. Some sinners under concern were also renewedly affected ; and afi'esh engaged for the securing of their eternal interests.

^^ Baptized jive persons at this time, three adults, and two children. One of these was the very aged woman^ of whose exercises I gave an account in my diary of Dec. 26. She now gave me a very punctual, rational, and satisfactory account of the remarkable change which she experienced some months after the beginning of her concern, which I must say, appeared to be the genuine operations of the Divine Spirit, so far as I am ca-^able of judging. Although she was become so childish throu^ th<{e» that I could do nothing in a way oi queMionvng with \rhs, nor scarcely make her understand any thing that I aske(^ -A ; yet when I let her alone to go on with her own story, she c aid give a very distinct and particular relation of the many .-.nd various exercises of soul, which she had experienced; so deep were the impressions left upon her mind by that influence and those exercises which she had experienced. I have great reason to think, that she is born anew in her old age: she being I presume, upwards of eighty. I had good hopes of the other adults, and trust they are such as God will own ' in the day when he makes up his jewels.'

" I came away from the meeting of the Indians this day, rejoicing and blessing God for his grace manifested at this season.

June 14. " Rode to Kingston to assist the Rev. Mr. Wales in the administration of the Lord's supper. In the afternoon preached ; but almost fainted in 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. -Jrraised be the Lord, ' out of weakness I was made strong.' I enjoyed some sweetness in and after public worship, but was extremely tired. Oh, how many are the mercies of the'Lord! '- To them that have no might he increaseth strength.'

hordes day^ June 15. " Was in a dejected, spiritless frame, so that I could not hold up my head, nor look any body in the face. Administered the Lord's supper at Mr. Wales' desire, and found myself in a good measure unburdened and relieved of my pressing load, when I came to ask a blessing on the elements. Here God gave me enlargement and a tender affectionate sense of spiritual things, so that it was a season of comfort, in some measure to me, and I trust, more so to others. In the afternoon, preached to a vast multitude, from Rev. xxii. 17—' Atid whoever will^^ &c. God helped me to offer a testimony for himself, and to leave sinners inexcusable in neglecting his grace. I was enabled to speak with such freedom, fin-

ency and clearness, as commanded the attention of the great. Was extremely tired in the evening, but enjoyed composure and sweetness.

/tiTie 16. <^Preached again; and God helped me amazingly, so that this was a sweet refreshing season to my soul and others. Oh, forever blessed be God for help afforded at this time, when my body was so weak, and while there was so large an assembly to hear. Spent this afternoon in a comfortable agreeable manner."

Thd next day was spent comfortably. On Wednesday, he went to a meeting of ministers at Hopewell.

June 19. " Visited my people with tw6 of the Re'«n^ ^id correspondents. Spent some time in conversation witi.V(inie of them upon spiritual things; and took some care of theii ^j^orldly concerns. *^

" This day makes up a complete year from the first time of my preaching to these Indians in New Jersey. What amazing things has God wrought in this space of time, for this poor peo-

Ele! What a surprising change appears in their tempers and ehaviour I How are morose and savage Pagans, in this short period, transformed into agreeable, affectionate, and humble Christians! and their drunken and Pagan bowlings turned into devout and fervent praises to God; they * who were sometimes in 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, and the preaching of Christ—to God only wise, be glory through Jesus Christ, for ever and ever, Amen."

CHAPTmilX. .. ■ I

GenenU Remarkt on the preceding Narrative of a Wort^^ Orace at Crottweelumtg, I. On the Doctrines preached to -the Indians. II. On the Morid Efeas of preaching' Christ Crvc^ied. IIL On the Continuance, Renewal, and Quick-nets of the Work. IV, On the little appearance of Fidsc JReKguni.* '

" Af tbfi close of this NaiTBtive, I would make a few General Remqrlnt^pon what, to me, appears worthy of notice, relatiog to th^ Continued work of grace among iny people.

h* On the Doctrinet preached to (J& Indians.

" I Itaiinot but take notice, that I have in general, ever since mjrfintcomin^amongtfae Indiana in New-Jersey, been favoured with that auiBtance, which, to me, ia uncommon in preaching Christ enured, and making him the centre and marh to which all my discoureeB amone them were directed.

" It was Oie priuciparscopfl and drift of all my discourses to this people, for several months together, (after havins taught them something of the being aad pirfections 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 wilh tlieir deplorable stale by nature, as fallen creatures; their inubilitu to extricate and deliver themselves from it; the utter insufficiency of any externa reformations and amendments of liTe, or of any reli^otu performances, of which they were capable, while in this stalie, to bring them into the favour of God, and interest them in htf eternal mercy; thence to show them their absolute need (^ Christ to redeem and save them from the misery of their fallail state; to open his all-sufficiency and willingness to save the.: chief of sinners ;— thcfreeness and riches of divine grace, proposed ' without money and without price,' to all that will accept the ofTer; thereupon to press them without delay, to betake themselves to him, under a sense of their misery and kk-done state, for relief and everlasting salvation;—and to show them the abundantencouragement the Gospel proposes toneedy, perishing, and helpless sinners, in order to engage them bo to do. These things, I repeatedly and largely insisted upon from, time to time.

* As the General Remarlii in tbia diapter and the next were appended hj BBAnrxBD to hia Journal whiiA lennioated Jane 19,1746, this is obrioiulj the proper place Jbr uuertiiij: them.

•

*' I have oftentimes remarked with admiration, that whatever subject I have been treating upon, after having spent time sufficient to explain and illustrate the truths contained therein, I have been naturally and easily led to Christ as the substance of every subject. If I treated on the being and glorious perfections of God, I was thence naturally led to discourse of Christ as the only'way to the Father.'—Jf I attempted to open the deplorable misery of our fallen state, it was natural from thence to show the necessity of Christ to undertake for U8, to atone for our sins, and to redeem us from the power of them.—If I taught the commands of God, and showed our violation of them ; this brought me in the most easy and natural way to speak of, and recommend the Lord Jesus Christ, as one who had ' magnified the law,' which we had broken, and who was ' become the end of it for righteousness, to every one that believes.' Never did I find so much freedom and assistance in making all the various lines of my discourses meet together and centre in Christ, as I have frequently done among these Indians.

** Sometimes when I have had thoughts of offering but a few words upon some particular subject, and saw no occasion, nor .indeed much room, for any considerable enlargement, there has at unawares appeared such a fountain of Gospel-grace shining forth in, or naturally resulting from a just explication of it; and Christ has seemed in such a manner to be pointed out as the substance of what I was considering and explaining; that I have been drawn in a way not only easy and natural^ proper and pertinent^ but almost unavoidable to discourse of him, either in regard of his undertaking, incarnation, satisfaction, admirable fitness for the work of man's redemption, or the infinite need that sinners stand in of an interest in him; which has opened the way for a continued strain of Gospel invitation to perishing souls, to come empty and naked^ weary and heavy laden, and cast themselves upon him.

" As I have been remarkably influenced and assisted to dwell upon the Lord Jesus Christ, and the way of salvation by him, in the general current of my discourses here, and have been, at times, surprisingly furnished with pertinent matter relating to him, and the design of his incarnation; so I have been no less assisted oftentimes in an advantageous manner of opening the mysteries of divine grace, and representing the infinite excellencies, and ' unsearchable riches of Christ,' as well as of recommending him to the acceptance of perishing sinners. I have frequently been enabled to represent the divine glory, the infinite preciousness and transcendant 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 wonderfiil

encouragement proposed in the gospel to unworthy, helpless sinners ;—to call, invite, and beseech them to come and ^ire up themselves to him, and be reconciled to God throimh him; —^to expostulate with them respecting their neglect of one so infinitely lovely, and freely offered ;—and this in such U manner^ with such freedom, pertinency, pathos, and appKcation to the conscience, as, I am sure, I never could have made myself master of by the most assiduous application of mind. Frequently, at such seasons, 1 have been surprisingly helped in adapting my discourses to the capacities of my people, and bringing them down into such easy and familiar methods of ezpressioii, as has rendered them intelligible even to Pagans.

'^ I do not mention these things as a recommendation of my own performances; for 1 am sure, I found, from time to tim^ that 1 had no skill or wisdom for my great work; and knew not how ^ to choose out acceptable words^ proper to address poor benighted Pagans with. But thus God was pleased to help me, ^ not to know any thing among them, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified/ Thus I was enabled to show them their misery without him, and to represent his complete Jitness to redeem and save them.

*^ This was the preaching God made use of for the awakening of sinners, and the propagation of this ' work of grace among the Indians.^—It was remarkable, fi-om time to time, that vrfaen I was favoured with any special freedom, in discoursing of the ^ ability and willingness of Christ to save sinners,^ and ' the need in which they stood of such a Saviour;' there was then the greatest appearance of divine power in awakening numbers of secure souls, promoting convictions begun, and comforting the distressed.

" I have sometimes formerly, in reading the apostle^s discourse to Cornelius, (Acts x.) wondered to see him so quickly introduce the Lord Jesus Christ into his sermon, and so entirely dwell upon him through the whole of it, observing him in this point very widely to differ from many of ouimodem preachers; but latterly this has not seemed strange, since Christ has appeared to be the substance of the gospel, and the cenire m which the several lines of divine revelation meet. Still I am sensible that there are many things necessary to be spoken to persons under Pagan darkness, in order to make way for a proper iiitroduction of the name of Christ, and his undertaking in behalf of fallen man.

II. "On the moral Effects of preaching Christ crucified.

" 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 extemei duties of Christianity, by the internal power and influence of divine truths—the peculiar doctrines of grace—upon tiieir

minds; without their having these moral duties frequently repeated and inculcated upon them, and the contrary vices par* ticularly exposed and spoken against. What has been the general strain and drift of my preaching among these Indians, what were the truths i principally insisted upon, and how I was influenced and enabled to dwell from time to time upon the peculiar doctrines of grace, I have already observed in the preceding remarks. Those doctrines, which had the most direct tendeincy to humble the fallen creature; to show him the misery irf'his natural state ; to bring him down to the foot of sovereign mercy^ and to exalt the great Redeemer—discover his trans* cendent excellency and infinite preciousness, and so to recom* mend him to the sinner^s acceptance—were the subject-matter of what was delivered in public and private to them, and from time to time repeated and inculcated upon them.

^^ God was pleased to give these divine truths such a power-fa] influence upon the minds of these people, and so to bless them for the effectual awakening of numbers of them, that their lives were quickly reformed, without my insisting upon the pre-cepts of morality^ and spending time in repeated harangues upon external duties. There was indeed no room for any kind of discourses but those which respected the essentials of religion, and the experimental knowledge of divine things, while Uiere were so many inquiring daily—not how they should regulate their external conduct, for that^ persons who are honestly disposed to comply with duty, when known, may in ordinary cases, be easily satisfied about, but—^how they should escape from the wrath they feared, and felt a desert of,—obtain an effectual change of hearty —^get an interest in Christ,—and come to the enjoyment of eternal blessedness ? So that my great work still was to lead them into a further view of their utter undone-ness in themselves, the total depravity and corruption of their hearts; that there was no manner of goodness in them ; no good disposition^ nor desires; no love to God, nor delight in his commands: but, on the contrary, hatred, enmity, and all manner of wickedness reigning in them:—And at the same time to ^ open to them the glorious and complete remedy provided in Christ for helpless perishing sinners, and offered freely to those who have no goodness of their own, no * works of righteousness which they have done, to recommend them to God.'

" This was the continued strain of my preaching; this my great concern and constant endeavour, so to enlighten the mind, as thereby duly to affect the hearty and, as far as possible, give persons a sense of feeling of these precious and important doctrines of grace, at least, so far as means might conduce to it. These were the doctrines, and this the method of preaching, which were blessed of God for the awakening, and I trust, the saving conversion of numbers of souls;—and which were made

the meant <^ inxxlucing a remarkd>le refivmation among tbe hearen in general

** When these truths were felt at heartj there was now no vice iinrefonned,—no external du^ neglected.—Dninkcnneii, dke darlii^ vice, was broken off from, and ecarce an inBtanAt of it known among my hearers for moDthg togp^tlier. Thekbi-uve practice of hutbmdt and wivee in [>utting away each other, i •ad taking others in their stead was quickly rctbniiod ; so that . there are three or four couple wito have voluntarily dismissed i thoee whom they had wrongfully taken, and now live together J in lore and peace. The same might be said ctf iill other vicious i pmcticea.—^THie reformation was genera!; and all sprin^ng 1 nrom the intaiud influence of divine truths upon their hearts; | and Dot&om any external restraints, or becautc tiiey iiad heard ■ theie vices particutarly exposed, and repeatedly sj>okcn ii^ainxl, Some of them I never so much as mentioned; particuliirly, ihiit <tf tbe parting of men and their wives, till some, having theii CCMMcieDce awakened by God's word, came, and of their own accord, confessed themselves gailty in that respect. When I at aoj time mentioned their wicked practices, and the sins ihej | wen guilty of contrary to tbe Uffht of nature, it vras not wilh a dorign, nor indeed with any hope, of Working an effectual re-fbnnaticm in their external manners by this.'means, for I knen', that while the tree remained corrupt uie frmt would naturdk \ be so. My design vras te lead them, by observing the wickea-neas of their lives, to a view of the corruption of their hearts, ■ and BO to convince them of the necessity of a renovation of ni' tare, and to excite them with the utmost diligence to seek aRet ' that great change; which, if once obtained, I was sensible, would of course produce a reformation of external manners in . every respect.

" And as all vice was reformed upon their ^eelin^ the pomi of these truths upon their hearts, ao the external duties of Oirit- , tiani^ were complied with, and conscientiously performed from tbe same internal influence; family prayer set up, and constantly maintained, unless amongsome few morelatefycotne, whobad.' felt little of this divine influence. This duty was constantly pe^ formed, even in some families where there were none but ft-male<, and scarce a prayerless person was to be found amone near an hundred of them. The Lord's day was seriously and religiously observed, and care taken by parents to keep their children orderly upon that sacred day ; and this, not because I hod driven them to the performance of these duties, by frequently inculcating them, but because they bad yelt the power of God's word upon their hearts,—were made senable of their sin and misery, and thence could not but pray, and comply with every thing which they knew to be their duty, fi«m what they felt withm themselves. When their hearts were

touched with a sense of their eternal concerns, tliey could pray with great freedom, as well as fervency, without being at the trouble first to learn set forms for that purpose. Some of them, who were suddenly awakened at their first coming among us, were brought to pray and cry for mercy with the utmost importunity, without ever being instructed in the duty of prayer, or so much as once directed to a performance of it.

" The happy effects of these peculiar doctrines of grace, upon which I have so much insisted upon this people, plainly discover, even to demonstration, that, instead of their opening a door to licentiousness, as many vainly imagine, and slanderously insinuate, they have a directly contrary tendency; so that a close application, a sense and feeling of them, will have the most powerful influence toward the renovation, and effectual reformation both of heart and life.

" Happy experience, as well as the word of God, and the example of Christ and his apostles, has taught me, that the very method of preaching which is best suited to awaken in mankind a sense and lively apprehension of their depravity and misery in q. fallen state^ —to excite them earnestly to seek after a change of heart, as to fly for refuge to free and sovereign grace in Christ as the only Iwpe set before them^ is likely to be most sticcessful in the reformation of their external conduct.— I have found that close addresses, and solemn applications of divine truth to the conscience, strike at the root of all vice 5 while smooth and plausible harangues upon moral virtues and external duties^ at best are like to do no more than lop off* the branches of corruption, while the root of all vice remains still untouched.

" A view of the blessed effect of honest endeavours to bring home divine truths to the conscience, and duly to affect the heart with them, has often reminded me of those words of our Lord, which I have thought might be a proper exhortation for ministers in respect of their treating with others, as well, as for persons in general with regard to themselves,' Cleanse first the inside of the cup and platter, that the outside may be clean also.' Cleanse, says he, the inside, that the outside may be clean. As if he had said. The only effectual way to have the outside clean, is to begin with what is within; and if the fountain he purified, the streams will naturally be pure. Most certain it is, if we can awaken in sinners a lively sense of their inward pollution and depravity—their need of a change of heart—and so engage them to seek after inward cleansing, their external defilement will naturally be cleansed, their vicious ways oi course be reformed, and their conversation and behaviour become regular.

"Now, although I cannot pretend that the reformation among my people^ does, in every instance, spring from a saving

Vol. X, 40

change of heart; yet I may trul^ say, it flows from some heart-(xffecting view and sense of divme truths which all have had in a greater or less degree.—I do not intend, by what I have observed here, to represent the preaching ojf morality and pressing persons to the external performance of duty, to be altogether unnecessary and useless at any time ; and especially at times when there is less of divine power attending the means of grace ;—when, for want of internal influences, mere is need of external restraints. It is doubtless among the things that ^ ought to be done,^ while ^ others are not to be left undone/— But what I principally designed by this remark, was to discover a plain matter of fact, viz. That the reformation, the sobriety, and the external compliance with the rules and duties of Christianity, appearing among my people, are not the effect of any mere doctrinal instruction, or merely rational view of the beauty of morality^ but from the internal power and influence which the soul humbUng doctrines of grace have had upon their hearts.

III. ^^ On the Continiumce^ Renewal, end Quickness of the Work.

^^ It is remarkable, that God has so continued and renewed the showers of his grace here;—so quickly set up his visible kingdom among these people ; and so smikd upon them in relation to their acquirement of knowledge, both divine and human. It is now nearlv a year since the beginning of this gracious outpouring of the divine Spirit among them; and although it has often seemed to decline and abate for some short space of time—as may be observed by several passages of my Journal, where I have endeavoured to note things just as they appeared to me—yet the shower has seemed to be renewed, and the work of grace revived again. A divine influence seems still apparently to attend the means of grace, in a greater or less degree, in most of our meetings for religious exercises; whereby religious persons are refreshed, strengthened, and established,—convictions revived and promoted in many instances, and some few persons newly awakened from time to time. It must be acknowledged, that for some time past, there has, in general, appeared a more manifest decline of this work; and the divine Spirit has seemed, in a considerable measure, withdrawn, especially with regard to his awakening influence—so that the strangers who come latterly, are not seized with concern as formerly ; and some few who have been much affected with divine truths in time past, now appear less concerned.— Yet, blessed be God, there is still an appearance of divine power and grace, a desirable degree of tenderness, religious aflfection and devotion in our assemblies.

" As God has continued and renewed the showers of his grace among this people for some time ; so he has with uncom-

men quickness set up his visible kingdom, and gathered himself a church in the midst of them. I have now baptized^ since the conclusion of my last Journal^ (or the First Part^) thirty jpei-son^—ffteen adults BXii 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. It must be noted, that I have baptized no adults, but such as appeared to have a work of m>ecial grace wrought in their hearts ; I mean such as have had the experience not only of the awakening and humbling, but in a judgment of charity, of the renewing and confirming infiu-^ences oi the divine Spirit. There are many others under solemn concern for their souls, who I apprehend, are persons of sufficient knowledge, and visible seriousness, at present^ to ren-der them proper subjects of the ordinance of baptism, ifet since they give no comfortable evidence of a saving change, but only appear under convictions of their sin and misery ; as the propensity in this people to abuse themselves with strong drink IS naturally very great; and as some, who at present appear serious and concerned for their souls, may lose their concern, and return to this sin, and so, if baptized, prove a scandal to their profession ; I have thought proper hitherto to defer their baptism.

" I likewise administered the Lord's supper to a number of persons, who I have abundant reason to think, as I elsewhere observed, were proper subjects of that ordinance, within the space of len months and ten days^ after my first coming among these Indians in New-Jersey. From the time, when, as I am informed, some of them attending an idolatrous feast and sacri-fice in honour to devils^ to the time when they sat down at the Lord^s table, I trust to the honour of God, was not more than a full year. Surely Christ's little flock here, so suddenly gathered from among Pagans, may justly say, in the language of the church of old, * The Lord hath done great things for us, whereof we are glad.'

^^ Much of the goodness of God has also appeared in relation to their acquirement of knowledge, both in religion and in the affairs of common life. There has been a wonderful thirst after Christum knowledge prevailing among them in general, and an eager desire of being instructed in Christian doctrines and manners. This has prompted them to ask many pertinent as well as important questions; the answers to which have tended much to enlighten their minds, and promote their knowledge in divine things. Many of the doctrines which I have delivered, they have queried with me about, in order to gain further light and insight into them; particularly the doctrine of predestination ; and have from time to time manifested a good under-

standing of them, by their answers to the questions proposed to them in my catechetical lectures.

" They nave likewise queried with me, respecting a proper method^ as well as proper matter^ of prayer, and expressions suitable to be used in that religious exercise; and have taken pains in order to the performance of this duty with understanding.— They have likewise taken pains, and appeared remarkably apt in learning to sing Psalm-tunes^ and are now able to sing with a good degree of decency in the worship of God.—They have also acquired a considerable degree of useful knowledge in the affairs of common life ; so that they now appear like rational creatures, fit for human society, free of that savage roughness and brutish stupidity, which rendered them very disagreeable in their Pagan state.

" They seem ambitious of a thorough acquaintance with the English language, and for that end frequently speak it among themselves. Many of them have made good proficiency in their acquirement of it, since my coming among them ; so that most of them can understand a considerable part, and some the substance of my discourses, without an interpreter^ being used to my low and vulgar methods of expression, though they could not well understand other ministers.

" As they are desirous of instruction, and surprisingly apt in the reception of it, so divine Providence has smiled upon them with regard to the proper means in order to it. The attempts made for the procurement of a school among them have been succeeded, and a kind providence has sent them a schoolmaster of whom I may justly say, I know of' no man like minded, who will naturally care for their state.'—He has generally thirty or thirty-five children in his school : and when he kept an evening school, as he did w^hilc the length of the evenings would admit of it, he hviA fifteen or twenty people, married and single.

" The children learn with surprisiuij^ readiness ; so that their master tells me, he never had an English school which learned, in general, comparably so fast. There were not above two in thirty^ although some of them were very small, but that learned to know all the letters in the alphabet distinctly, within three days after his entrance upon his business ; and several in that space of time learned to spell considerably. Some of them, since the beginning of February last,*" when the school was set up, have learned so much, that they are able to read in a Psalter or Testament^ without spelling.

" They are instructed twice a week in the Assembly's Shorter Catechism^ on Wednesday and Saturday. Some of them since the latter end of February, when they began, have learn-

♦ In less than five months, viz. from Feb. 1, to June 19.

ed to say it pretty distinctly by hearty considerably more than half through; and most of them have made some proficiency in it

** They are likewise instructed in the doty of secret prayer, and most of them constantly attend it night and morning, and are very careful to inform their master if they apprehend that any of their little school-mates neglect that religious exercise.

IV, " On the little Appearance of False Religion.

" It is worthy to be noted, to the praise of sovereign grace, that amidst so great a work of conviction—so much concern and religious affection—there has been no prevalence^ nor indeed any considerable appearance of false religion^ if I may so term it, or heats of imagination, intemperate zeal, and spiritual pride; which corrupt mixtures too often attend the revival and powerful propagation of religion ; and that there have been very few instances of irregular and scandalous behaviour among those who have appeared serious. I may justly repeat what 1 formerly observed, that there has here been no appearance of ' bodily agonies, convulsions, frightful screamings, swoonings,^ . and the like; and may now fiirther add, that there has been no prevalence of visions, trances, and imaginations of any kind ; although there has been some appearance of something of that nature ; an instance of which I have given an account of in my Diary for December 26.

" feut this toork of grace has, in the main, been carried on with a surprising degree of purity^ and freedom from trash and corrupt mixture. The religious concern under which persons have been, has generally been rational and just / arising from a sefise of their sins and exposedness to the divine displeasure on account of them ; as well as their utter inability to deliver themselves from the misery which they felt and feared. If there has been, in any instance, an appearance of concern and perturbation of mind, when the subjects of it knew not why; yet there has been no prevalence of any such thing ; and indeed 1 scarcely know of any instance of that nature at all.-^It is very remarkable, that, although the concern of many persons under convictions of their perishing state has been very great and pressing, yet 1 have never seen any thing like desperation attending it in any one instance. They have had the most lively sense of their undoneness in themselves; have been brought to give up all hopes of deliverance from themselves; have experienced great distress and anguish of soul; and yet, in the seasons of the greatest extremity, there has been no appearance of des-pair in any of them,—nothing that has discouraged, or in any wise hindered them from the most diligent use of all proper means for their conversion and salvation. Hence it is apparent, that there is not that danger of persons being driven into

despair under spiritual trouble^ unless in cases of deep and habitual melancholy, which the world m general is ready to imagine.

" The comfort which persons have obtained after their distresses, has fikewise in general appeared solid, well grounded, and scriptural; arising from a spiritual and gupematurdHJlnmh nation of mind,—a view of divine things, in a measure, as theg are^ —a complacency of soul in the divine perfections,—and a peculiar satisfaction in the way of salvation by free sovereign grace in the great Redeemer.

" Their joys have seemed to rise from a variety of views and considerations of divine things, although for substance the same. Some, who under conviction seemed to have the hardest struggles and heart-risings against the divine sovereignty^ have seemed, at the first da^n of their comfort, to rejoice in a peculiar manner in that divine perfection:—and have been delight* ed to think that themselves, and all things else, were in the hand of God, and that he would dispose of them * just as be pleased.'

" Others, who just before their reception of comfort have been remarkably oppressed with a sense of their undoneness and poverty, who have seen themselves, as it were, falling down into remediless perdition, have been at first more peculiarly delighted with a view of the freeness and riches of divine ficrace, and the offer of salvation made to perishing sinners ^ without money, and without price.'

" Some have at first appeared to rejoice especially in the zvisdom of God, discovered in the way of salvation by Christ; it then appearing to them * a new and living way,' a way of which they had never thought, nor had any just conceptions, until opened to them by the special influence of the divine Spirit. Some of them, upon a lively spiritual view of this way of salvation, have wondered at their past folly in seeking salvation in other ways, and have wondered that they never saw this way of salvation before, which now appeared so plain and easy^ as well as excellent to them.

" Others, again, have had a more general view of the beauty and excellency of Christ, and have had their souls delighted with an apprehension of his divine glory, as unspeakably exceeding all of which they had ever conceived before ; yet, without singling out any one of the divine perfections in particular; so that although their comforts have seemed to arise from a variety of views and considerations of divine glories, still they were spiritual and supernatural views of them, and not groundless fancies, which were the spring of their joys and comforts.

'• Yet it must be acknowledged, that, when this work became

SO universal and prevalent^ and gained such general credit and esteem among the Indians as Satan seemed to have little advantage of working against it in his own proper garb, he then transformed himself ' into an angel of light,' and made some vigorous attempts to introduce turbulent commotions of the passions in the room of genuine convictions of sin, imaginary and fanciful notions of Christ, as appearing to the mental eye in a human shape, and in some particular postures, &c. in the room of spiritual and supernatural discoveries of his divine glory and excellency, as well as divers other delusions. I have reason to think, that, if these things had met with countenance and encouragement, there would have been a very considerable harvest of this kind of converts here.

" Spiritual pride also discovered itself in various instances. Some persons who had been under great affections, seemed very desirous from thence of being thought truly gracious: who, when 1 could not but express to them my fears respecting their spiritual state, discovered their resentments to a considerable degree upon that occasion. There also appeared in one or two of them an unbecoming ambition of being teachers of others. So that Satan has been a busy adversary here, as well as elsewhere. But blessed be God, though something of this nature has appeared, yet nothing of it has prevailed^ nor indeed made any considerable progress at all. My people are now apprised of these things, are made acquainted, that Satan in such a manner ^ transformed himself into an angel of light,^ in the first season of the great outpouring of the divine Spirit in the days of the apostles; and that something of this nature, in a greater or less degree, has attended almost every revival and remarkable propagation of true religion ever since. They have learned so to distinguish between the gold and dross^ that the credit of the latter ^ is trodden down like the mire of the streets;' and, as it is natural for this kind of stu^ to die with its credit^ there is now scarce any appearance of it among them.

" As there has been no prevalence of irregular heats, imagi* nary notions, spiritual pride, and Satanical delusions among my people; so there have been very few instances of scandalous and irregular behaviour among those who have made a profession^ or even an appearance of seriousness. I do not know of more than three or four such persons who have been guilty of any open misconduct, since their first acquaintance with Christianity ; and not one who persists in any thing of that nature. Perhaps the remarkable purity of this work in the latter respect, its freedom from frequent instances of scandal, is very much owing to its purity in the former respect, its freedom from corrupt mixtures of spiritual pride, wild-fire, and delusion, which naturally lay a foundation for scandalous practices.

" May this blessed work in the power and purity of it prevail among the poor Indians here, as well as spread elsewhere, till their remotest tribes shall see the salvation of God! Ameiu''*

* '* Money eoileeted and expended for the Indians^ — As mention has been made in the preceding Diary, of hh English school erecied and continued among these Indians, dependent entire y upon charity ; and as collections have already been mads in divers olaces for the support of it, as well as lor defraying other charges which have necesi^arily arisen in the piomotion of the religious interests of the Indiaitt; it may be satisfactory, and perhaps will be thought by some but a piece (rf'jas-tice to the world, that an exact account be here given of the money already r^ ceived hy way of collection for the benefit of the Indians, and the manner in which it has been expended.

The following is therefore a just account of this matter:— Money received since October last, by way of public coUectioD, for promotii^ the religious interests of the Indians in New-Jersey, viz.

£. #. d.

From New York 23 10 2

Jamaica on Long-Island 3 0 0

Elizabeth-Town 7 5 0

Elizubeth-Town Farms 1 18 9

Newark ........ 457

Woodbridge 2 18 2

Morris-Town 1 5 3 *

Freehold 12 11 0

Freehold Dutch congregation . • • . 4 14 3

Shrewsbury and Shark-river . . • . 3 5 0

Middle-Town Dutch congregation . . • 2 0 0

The Dutch congregation in and about N. Brunswick 3 5 0 KingVtown . . . . . . . 5 11 0

Neshaminy, and places adjacent in Pennsylyania 14 5 10

Abington and New-Providence, by the hand of the Rev. Mr. Treat 10 5 0

The whole amounting to £100 0 0

Money paid out since October last for promoting the religious interests of the

Indians in New-Jersey, viz,

£. s. d. Upon the occasion mentioned in my Journal of Jan. 28 82 5 0 For the building of a school-house . . . 3 5 0

To the schoolmaster as a part of bis reward for his

present year's service 17 10 0

For books for the children to learn in . . 3 0 0

The whole amounting to J&106 0 0

DAVID BRAINERD/'

CHAPTER X.

General Remarks on the Work of Grace at Crossweeksung continued. — Introduction. — Method of learning the Indian Language. — Method of Instructing the Indians, — Difficulties in the way in converting them to Christianity. — Attestations of neighbouring Ministers^ Elders^ and Deacons to the Display of Divine grace at Crossweeksung.

^^ 1 should have concluded what I had at present to offer, upon the affairs respecting my mission^ with the preceding account of the money collected and expended for the religious in-terests of the Indians, but that 1 have not long since received from the Rev. President of the correspondents, the copy of a letter directed to him from the Hon. Society for propagating Christian knowledge, dated Edinburgh, March 21, 1745. Wherein I find it is expressly enjoined upon their missionaries, ' That they give an exact account of the methods they make use of for instructing themselves in the Indians^ language, and what progress they have already made in it; of what methods they are now taking to instruct the Indians in the principles of our holy religion: and particularly of what difficulties they have already met with, and of the methods they make use of for surmounting the same.^

" As to the two former of these particulars, I trust that what I have already noted in my communications from time to time, might have been in good measure satisfactory to the Hon. Society, had they arrived safely and seasonably ; which 1 am sensible they have not in general done, by reason of their falling into the hands of the enemy; although I have been at the pains of sending two copies of each, for more than two years p ast, lest one might miscarry in the passage. With relation to the latter of these particulars, I have purposely omitted saying any thing considerable, and that for these two reasons. Firsts because I could not oftentimes give any tolerable account of the difficulties which I met with in ray work, without speaking somewhat particularly of the causes of them, and the circumstances conducing to them, which would necessarily have rendered my journals very tedious. Besides, some of the causes of my difficulties, I thought more fit to be concealed than divulged. Secondly^ because I thought that a frequent mention of the difficulties attending my work, might appear an unbecoming complaint under my burdens; or as if I would rather be thought to be endowed with a singular measure of self-denial, constancy, and holy resolution, to meet and confront so many

difficulties, and yet to hold on and go forward amidst them all. But since the honourable Society are pleased to require a more exact and particular account of these things, I shall cheerfully endeavour something for their satisfaction in relation to each of these particulars ; although with regard to the latter, I am ready to say, Infandum—jubes renovare delorem.

SECT. I.

'' Method of learning the Indian language.

" The most successful method which I have taken for instructing myself in any of the Indian languages, is to translate En-frhsh discourses by the help of an interpreter or two, into their anguage, as near verbatim as tlie sense will admit of, ami to observe strictly how they use words, and what constructioD thc^ will bear in various cases; and thus to ffain some acquaintance with the root from whence particiuar words proceed, and to see how they are thence varied and diversified. But here occurs a very great difficultjr; for the interpreters be-in^ unlearned, and unacquainted with the rules of language, it IS impossible sometimes to know by them what part of speech some particular word is of, whether noim^ rer6, or participle; for they seem to use participles sometimes where we should use nouns^ and sometimes where we should use verbs in tte English language.

" But I have, notwithstanding many difficulties, gained some acquaintance with the grounds of the Delaware language, and have learned most of the defects in it; so that I know what English words can, and what cannot be translated into it. I have also gained some acquaintance with the particular phraseologies, as well as peculiarities of their language, one of which I cannot but mention. Their language does not admit of their speaking any word denoting relation, such as, father, son, &c. absolutely ; that is, without prefixing a pronoun-possessive to it, such as, wi?/, thy^ his^ &c. Hence they cannot be baptized in their own language in the name of the Father, and the Son, &,c; but they may be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ and his Father, &c. I have gained so much knowledge of their language, that I can understand a considerable part of what they say, when they discourse upon divine things, and am frequently able to correct my interpreter if he mistakes my sense. But I can do nothing to any purpose at speaking the language myself.

" As an apology for this defect, I must renew, or rather enlarge my former complaint, viz :—That' while so much of my time is necessarily consumed in journeying,' while I am obliged to ride four thousand miles a year, as I have done in the year

past, * I can have little left for any of my necessary studies^ and consequently for the study of the Indian languages.' This, I may venture to say, is the great, if not the only reason why the Delaware language is not fa,!niliar to me before this time. It is impossible that I should ever be able to speak it without close application, for which, at present, I see no prospect of having time. To preach and catechise frequently; to converse privately with persons who need so much instruction and direction as these poor Indians do; to take care of all their secular affairs, as if they were a company of children ; to ride about frequently in order to procure collections for the support of the school^ and for their help and benefit in other respects; to hear and decide all the petty differences which arise among any of them; and to have the constant oversight and management of all their affairs of every kind ; must needs engross most of my time, and leave me little for application to the study of the Indian languages. When I add to this the time that is necessarily consumed upon my Diary, I must say I have little to spare for other business. I have not, as was observed before, sent to the Hon. Society less than two copies of every journal, for more than two years past; most of which, I suppose, have been taken by the French in their passage. A third copy I have constantly kept by me, lest the others should miscarry. This has caused me not a little labour, and so straitened me for time, when I have been at liberty from other business, and had opportunity to sit down to write, which is but rare, that 1 have been obliged to write twelve and thirteen hours in a day; till my spirits have been extremely v^fasted, and my life almost spent, to get these writings accomplished. After all, after diligent application to the various parts of my work, and after the most industrious improvement of time, of which I am capable, both early and late, I cannot oftentimes possibly gain two hours in a week for reading, or any other studies, unless just for what appears of absolute necessity/or the present. Frequently when I attempt to redeem time, by sparing it out of my sleeping hours, I am by that means thrown under bodily indisposition, and rendered fit for nothing.—This is truly my present state, and is like to be so, for ought I can see, unless I could procure an assistant in my work, or quit my present business.

"Although I have not made that proficiency which I could wish to have made, in learning the Indian languages; yet I have used all endeavours to instruct them in the English tongue; which perhaps will be more advantageous to the Christian interest among them, than if I should preach in their own language; for that is very defective, as I shall hereafter observe, so that many things cannot be communicated to them without introducing English terms. Besides, they can have no books translated into their language, without great difllculty

MEMOIRS OF BRAINERD.

and expense; and if stiil accustomed to their own language only, they would have no advantage of hearing other ministers occasionally, or in my absence. So that my having a perfect acquaintance with the Indian language, would be (h no great importance with regard to this congregation of Indians in New-Jersey, although it might be of great service to me in treating with the Indians elsewhere.

SECT. II.

Method of Instructing the Indians,

'' The method which I am taking to instruct the Indians in the principles of our holy religion, are, to preach, or open and improve some particular points of doctrine; to expound particular paragraphs, or sometimes whole chapters of God^s word to them; to give historical relations from Scripture of the most material and remarkable occurrences relating to the church of God from the beginning; and frequently to catechise them upon the principles of Christianity. The latter of these methods of instructing, I manage in a twofold manner. 1 sometimes catechise systematicaUy^ proposing questions agreeaUy to the Assembly's Shorter Catechism. This I have carried to a considerable length. At other times 1 catechise upon any important subject which I think difficult to them. Sometimes, when I have discoursed upon some particular point, and made it as plain and familiar to them as I can, I then catechise them upon the most material branches of my discourse, to see whether they had a thorough understanding of it. But as 1 have catechised chiefly in a systematical form, I shall here give some specimen of the method I make use of in it, as well as of the propriety and justness of my people's answers to the questions proposed to them.

" Questions upon the benefits believers receive from Christ at

death.

Q. " 1 have shown you, that the children of God receive a great many good things from Christ while they live, now have they any more to receive when they come to die ?

A. Yes.

Q. Are the children of God ihen made perfectly free from sin ? A. Yes.

Q. Do you think they will never more be troubled with vain, foolish, and wicked thoughts ? A. No, never at all.

Q. Will they not then be like the good angels 1 have so often told you of? A, Yes.

Q. And do you call this a great mercy to be freed from all sin? A. Yes.

Q. Do-all God^s children count it so ?

A. Yes, all of them.

Q. Do you think this is what they would ask for above all thinffs, if God should say to them, Ask what you will, and it dialT be done for you ?

A, O yes, besure, this is what they want.

Q. You say the souls of God's people at death are made perfectly free from sin, where do they go then ?

JL. They go and live with Jesus Christ.

Q. Does Christ show them more respect and honour, and make them more happy* than we can possibly think of in this world? A. Yes,

Q. Do thev go immediately to live with Christ in heaven, as soon]|as their bodies are dead ? or do they tarry somewhere else a while ?

A. They go immediately to Christ.

Q. Does Christ take any care of the bodies of his people when they are^dead, and their souls gone to heaven, or does he forget them ? A, He takes care of them.

^ These questions were all answered with surprising readiness, and without once missing, as I remember. In answering severa^of them, which respected deliverance from sin, they were much affected, and melted with the hopes of that happy state.''

'* Questions upon the benefits which believers receive from

Christ at the resurrection.

Q. You see I have already shown you what good things Christ gives his good people while they live, and when they <x>me to die: now, will he raise their bodies, and the bodies of others, to life again at the last day ?

A. Yes, they shall all be raised.

Q. Shall they then have the same bodies they now have ?

A, Yes.

Q. Will their bodies then be weak, will they feel cold, hun-ger, thirst, and weariness, as they now do ?

A. No, none of these things.

Q. Wiirtheir bodies ever die any more after they are raised to;iife? * A. No.

Q. T^ill their souls and bodies be joined together again ?

A. Yes.

Q. WillJGod's people be more happy then, than they were while their bodies were asleep ? A. Yes.

* The only way I have to express their *^ entering into glory," or being glorified ; there being no word in the Indian language answering to that general term.

Q. Will Christ then own these to be his people before all the world ? A, Yes.

Q. But God^s people find so much sin in themselves, that they are often ashamed of themselves, and will not Christ be ashamed to own such for his friends at that day ?

A. No, he never will be ashamed of them.

Q. Will Christ then show all the world, that he has put away these people^s sins,* and that he looks upon them as if they had never sinned at all ? A. Yes.

Q. Will he look upon them as if they had never sinned, for the sake of any good things they have done themselves, or for the sake of his righteousness accounted to them as if it was theirs?

A. For the sake of his righteousness counted to them, not fix their own goodness.

Q. Will God^s children then be as happy as they can desire to be ? A. Yes.

Q. The children of God while in this world, can but now and then draw near to him, and they are ready to think they can never have enough of God and Christ, but will they have enough there, as much as they can desire ?

A. O yes, enough, enough.

Q. Will the children of God love him then as much as they desire, will they find nothing to hinder their love from going to him?

A. Nothing at all, they shall love him as much as they desire.

Q. Will they never be weary of God and Christ, and the pleasures of heaven, so as we are weary of our friends and enjoyments here, after we have been pleased with them a while ?

A, No, never.

Q. Could God's people be happy if they knew God loved them, and yet felt at the same time that they could not love and honour him ? A. No, no.

Q, Will this then make God's people perfectly happy, to love God above all, to honour him continually, and to feel his love to them ? A. Yes.

Q. And will this happiness last for ever ? A. Yes, for ever, for ever.

"These questions, like the former, were answered without hesitation or missing, as I remember in any one instance."

" Questions upon the duty which God requires of men,

Q. Has God let us know any thing of his will, or what he would have us to do to please him ? A. Yes.

* The only way I have to express their being openly — cLcquitted. In like manner, when I speak of justification, I have no other way but to call it God's looking upon us as good creatures.

Q. And does he require us to do his will, and to please him ?

A. Yes.

Q. Is it right that God should require this of us, has he any business to command us as a father does his children ?

A. Yes.

Q. Why is it right that God should command us to do what he pleases ?

A, Because he made us, and fives us all our good things.

Q. Does God require us to do any thing that will, hurt us, and take away our comfort and happiness ? A. No.

Q. But God requires sinners to repent and be sorry for their sins, and to have their hearts broken; now, does not this hurt them, and take away their comfort, to be made sorry, and to have their hearts broken ?

A. No, it does them good.

Q. Did God teach man his will at first by writing it down in a book, or did he put it into his heart, and teach him without a book what was right ?

A. He put it into his heart, and made him know what he should do.

Q. Has God since that time writ down his will in a book ?

A. Yes.

Q. Has God written his whole will in his book; has he there told us all that he would have us believe and do ?

A. Yes.

Q. What need was there of this book, if God at first put his will into the heart of man, and made him feel what he should do?

JL There was need of it, because we have sinned, and made our hearts blind.

Q. And has God writ down the same things in his book, that he at first put into the heart of man ?

A. Yes.

" In this manner I endeavour to adapt my instructions to the capacities of my people; although they may perhaps seem strange to others who have never experienced the difficulty of the work. These, of which I have given an account, are the methods I am from time to time pursuing, in order to instruct them in the principles of Christianity. I think I may say, it is my great concern that these instructions be given them in such a manner^ that they may not only be doctrinally taught^ but duly ejected thereby ; that divine truths may come to them, * not m word only, but in power and in the Holy Ghost,' and be received * not as the word of man.'

SECT. 111.

^^ Difficulties attending the Christianizing of the Indians — Fint Difficulty^ the rooted aversion to Christianity that generally prevails among them.

'' I shall now attempt something with relation to the lastpar* ticular required by the Honourable Society in their letter, yiz. To give some account of the * difficulties I have already met with in my work, and the methods I make use of for surmounting the same.^

I. ^^ I have met with great difficulty in my work among these Indians, ^from the rooted aversion to Christianity which generally prevails among them,^ They are not only brutishly stupid and Ignorant of divine things, but many of them are obstinately set against Christianity, and seem to abhor even the Christian name.

" This aversion to Christianity arises partly from a view of the ^ immorality and vicious behaviour oimany who are called christians.^ They observe that horrid wickedness in nominal christians, which the light of nature condemns in themselves; and not having distinguishing views of things, are ready to look upon all the white people alike^ and to condemn them oltie, for the abominable practices of some. —Hence, when I have attempted to treat with them about Christianity, they have frequently objected the scandalous practices of Christians. They have observed to me, that the white people lie, defraud, steal, and drink worse than the Indians; that they have taught the Indians these things, especially the latter of them ; who before the coming of the English, knew of no such thing as strong drink; that the English have, by these means, made them quarrel and kill one another ; and, in a word brought them to the practice of all those vices which now prevail among them. So that they are now vastly more vicious, as well as much more miserable, than they were before the coming of the white people into the country.—These, and such like objections, they frequently make against Christianity, which are not easily answered to their satisfaction ; many of them being facts too notoriously true.

" The only way I have to take in order to surmount this difficulty^ is to distinguish between nominal and reaZ christians ; and to show them, that the ill conduct of many of the former proceeds not from their being christians, but from their being christians only in name^ not in heart. To this it has sometimes been objected, that, if all those who will cheat the Indians are christians only in name, there are but few left in the country to be christian in heart. This, and many other of the remarks they

pass upon the white people, and their miscarriages, I am forced to own, and cannot but grant, that many nominal christians are more abominably wicked than the Indians, fiut then I attempt to show them, that there are some who feel the power of Christianity, and that these are not so. I ask them, when they ever saw me guilty of the vices of which they complain, and with which the^ charge Christians in general ? But still the great difficulty IS, that the people who live back in the country nearest to them, and the traders who go among them, are generally of the most irreligious and vicious sort; and the conduct of one or two persons, be it never so exemplary, is not sufficient to counterbalance the vicious behaviour of so many of the same denomination, and so to recommend Christianity to Pagans.

" Another thing which serves to make them more averse to Christianity, is a ' fear of being enslaved.' They are, perhaps, some of the most jealous people living, and extremely averse to a state of servitude; and hence are always afraid of some desi^ forming against them. Besides, they seem to have no sentiments of generositv, benevolence, and goodness. If any thing be proposed to them, as being for their good, they are ready rather to suspect, that there is at bottom some design forming against them, than that such proposals flow from good will to them, and a desire of their welfare. Hence, when I, have attempted to recommend Christianity to their acceptance, they have sometimes objected, that the white people have come among them, have cheated them out of their lands, and driven them back to the mountains, from the pleasant places they used to enjoy by the sea-side ; that therefore they have no reason to think the white people are now seeking their welfare; but rather that they have sent me out to draw them together, under a pretence of kindness to them, that they may have an opportunity to make slaves of them, as they do of the poor negroes, or else to ship them on board their vessels, and make them fight with their enemies. Thus they have oftentimes construed all the kindness I could show them, and the hardships I have endured in order to treat with them about Christianity.— *• He never would,' say they, ' take all this pains to do us good; he must have some wicked design to hurt us some way or other.' To give them assurance of the contrary, is not an easy matter; while there are so many, who, agreeable to their apprehension, are only * seeking their own,' not the good of others.

** To remove this difficulty, I inform them, that I am not sent out among them by those persons in these provinces.! who they suppose, have cheated them out of their lands; but by pious people at a great distance, who never had an inch of their lands. nor ever thought of doing them anv hurt.

Vol. X. 42

f

^* But here will arise so many firhroUMis and iippertiiieiil ipM-tioos, that it would tire oae^s patience, aiid weapr ofajL pi|C^*# spirits to hear them; such as, * Bui why did not ffl^ gP04 people send you to teach us before, while we ^f^ HQf MjjB^f down by the sea-side. If they had sent yoi| tfae^i, wo ^hiwHA likely have heard you, and turned Christians.^ The poor fSB^ffr tures still imagimou;, that I should be much behi4den tp tfeMffit in case they woula hearken to Christianity; and insiynupting, that this was a favour they could not now be so good as to show me, seeing they had received so many injuries ffom the wpliUe people.

^ Another sprint of aversion to Christianity in the Indiftiis, if

^ their stronff attachment to their own religious notions, if tbey

may be called religious, and the early prejudices which th^

have imbibed in favour of their own ftantic and ridiculous kind

of worship.^ What their notions of God are, in their Paf^sa

state, is hard precisely to determine. I have taken muc^ paus

to in(]uire of mj Christian people, whether they, befcwe thw

acquamtance with Christianity, imagined that there was fn

plurality of oreat invisible powers, or whether they ramqtad

put one such oeing, and wcmhipped him in a variety iof UflBf

and shapes; but cannot learn any thing of them so distiiict psto

be fully satisfied upon the point. Their notions in that st^

were so prodigiously dark and confiised, that they aeefned not

to know what they thought themselves. But cfo &r as I can

learn, they had a notion of a plurality of invisible deiiiee^ and

paid some kind of homage to them promiscuously, under a great

variety of forms and shapes. It is certain, that those who yet

remain Paffans, pay some kind of superstitious reverence to

beasts, biros, fishes, and even reptiles ; that is, some to one kind

of animal, and some to another. They do not indeed suppose

a divine power essenticd to, or inhering in, these creatures; but

that some invisible beings—I cannot learn that it is always one

such being only, but divers ; not distinguished fi'om each other

by certain names, but only notionally ;-—communicate to those

animals a great power ^ either one or other of them, just as it

happens, or perhaps sometimes all of them; and so make these

creatures the immediate authors of good to certain persons.—

Whence such a creature becomes sacred to the persons to

whom he is supposed to be the immediate author of^good, and

through him they must worship the invisible powers, though to

others he is no more than another creature. Perhaps another

animal is looked upon to be the immediate author of good to

another; and consequently he must worship the invisitue ppW'»

ers in that animal. 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 lus hoi)se.

** After the strictest inquiry respecting their notions of the Deitj, I find, that in ancient times, before the coming of the white people, some supposed that there were four mvisible powers, who presided over the four corners of the earth. Others imagined the 9un to be the ovdy deity, and that all things were made by him. Others, at the same time, have a confused notion of a certain body or fountain of deity^ some-what like the anima mundi^ so frequently mentionedf by the more learned ancient Heathens, diffusing itself to varipus animals, and even to inanimate things, making them the immediate authors of good to certain persons, as before observed, with respect to various supposed deities. But after the coming of the white people, they seemed to suppose there were three deities, and three only, because they saw people of three different kinds of complexion, viz. English, Negroes, and Indians.

'* It is a notion pretty generally prevailing among them, that it wa« not the same God made them, who made us; but that they were made after the white people; which further shows, that they imagine a plurality of divine powers. I fancy that thejr suppose tneir God gained some special skill by seeing the white people made, and so made them better; for it is certain they look upon themselves, and their method of living, which they say, their God expressly prescribed for them, vastly preferable to the white people, and their method. Hence they will frequently sit and laugh at the whites, as being good for nothing else but to plough and fatigue themselves with hard labour; while they enjoy the satisfaction of stretching themselves on the ground, and sleeping as much as they please; and have no other trouble but now and then to chase the deer, which is often attended with pleasure rather than pain. Hence, by the way, many of them look upon it to be as disgracefiil for tnem to become Christians, as it would be esteemed among Christians for any to become Pagans. They suppose our reli-

g'on will do well enough for us, because prescribed by otir od; yet it is no way proper for them, because not of the same make and origmal. This they have sometimes ofiered as a reason why tl^y did not incline to hearken to Christianity.

*^ They seem to have some confused notion about a future state of existence, and many of them imagine that the chichung^ i, e. the shadow^ or what survives the body, will at death go southward^ and in an unknown but curious place, will enjoy some kind of happiness, such as hunting, feasting, dancing, and the like. What they suppose will contribute much to their happiness in that state is, that they shall never be weary of those entertainments. It seems by this notion of their going ecuthtoard to obtain happiness, as if they had their course into these parts of the world firom some very cold climate, and

found the further they went sauikward the mote eomfiirtabie they w&[e ; and thence concluded, that perfect felicity was to be found further towards the same point

** They seem to have some faint and glimmering notion about ^ewatdi and punishmeniSj or at least hufprness and wngen in a future state; that is, some with whom I have conversed; though others seem to know ci no such thing. Those who suppose this, seem to ima^ne that most will be happ^; and that tnoae who are not so, will be punished only with prwaUom^ being only excluded the walls of that good world, where hiq>py souls shall dwell

^ These rewards and punishments they suppose to depend entirely upon their conduct with relation to tne duties of the stfcofui table, L e. their behaviour towards mankind; and seem, so far as I can see, not to imagine that they have any reference to their religiaus notions or practices, or any thing that refailes to the worwlp of God I remember I once conmlted a veiy ancient, but mtelligent Indian upon this point, for my own satisfaction; and asked him, whether the Indians of old times had sppposed there was any thing of the man that woidd suT" vivethebodvT He replied, * Yes.^ I asked him, where he sup-poMd its abode would be T He replied, ^ It would go southward/ I asked him further, whether it would be happy diere f He answered, afler a considerable pause, * that the soub aS rood folks would be happy, and the souls of bad folks misera-Ue.^ I then asked him, whom he called bad folks f His answer, as I remember, was, ^ Those who lie, steal, quarrel with their neighbours, are unkind to their fHends, and especially to aged parents, and, in a word, such as are a plague to man* kmd.^ These were his had folks; but not a word was said about their neglect of divine worship, and their badness in that respect.

" They have indeed some kind of religious worship, are frequently offering sacrifices to some supposed invisible powers, and are very ready to impute their calamities in the present world, to the negiect of these sacrifices; but there is no appearance of reverence and devotion in the homage which they pay them; and what they do of this nature, seems to be done only to appease the supposed anger of their deities, to engage them to be placable to themselves, and do them no hurt, or at most, only to invite these powers to succeed them in those enterprises they are engaged in respecting ihe present life. So that in offering these sacrifices, they seem to have no reference to a future state, but only to present comfort. This is the account my interpreter always gives me of this matter. * They sacrifice,^ says he,' that they may have success in hunting and other affairs, and that sickness and other calamities may not befall them, which they fear in the present world, in case of

neglect; but they do not suppose God will ever punish them in the coming world for neglecting to sacrifice.' Indeed they seem to imagine, that those whom they call bad folksy are excluded fi'om the company of good people in that state, not so much because God remembers, and is determined to punish them for their sins of any kind, either immediately against himself or their neighbour, as because they would be b. plague to society, and would render others unhappy if admitted to dwell with them. So that they are excluded rather o{ necessity^ than by God acting as a righteous judge,

" They give much heed to dreams^ because they suppose these invisible powers give them directions at such times about certain affairs, and sometimes inform them what animal they would choose to be worshipped in. They are likewise much attached to the traditions and fabulous notions of their fathers; who have informed them of divers miracles that were anciently wrought among the Indians, which they firmly believe, and thence look upon their ancestors to have been the best of men. They also mention some wonderful things which, they say, have happened since the memory of some who are now living. One I remember affirmed to me, that himself had once been dead four days ; that most of his friends in that time were gathered together to his funeral, and that he should have been buried, but that some of his relations at a great distance, who were sent for upon that occasion, were not arrived; before whose coming he came to life again. In this time, he says, he went to the place where the sun rises ; imagining the earth to be a 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 lengthy and saw many wonderful thmgs, too tedious as well as ridiculous to mention. Another

Eerson, a woman, whom 1 have not seen, but of whom i have een credibly informed by the Indians, declares that she was dead several days, that her soul went southward^ and feasted and danced with the happy spirits, and that she found all things exactly agreeable to the Indian notions if a future state. To these superstitious notions and traditions, land to this ridiculous worship thej^ are extremely atjtached; and the prejudice which they have imbibed in favour of these things, renders them not a little averse to the doctrines of Christianity. Some of them have told me, when I have endeavoured to instruct them, ^^ that their fathers had taught them already, and that they did not want to learn now."

"It will be too tedious to give any considerable account of the methods I make use of for surmounting this difficulty. I will just say, I endeavour, as much as possible, to show them the inconsistency of their own notions, and so to confound thejn out of their own mouths. I must also say, I have some-

times been almost nonplussed with them, and scarcely kneur what to answer them; but never have been more perplexed with them, than when they have pretended to yield to me as knowing more than they, and consequently have asked me numbers of impertinent, and yet difficult questions, as, ^ How the Indians came first into this part of the world, away from all the white people, if what 1 said was true,^ viz. that the same God made them who made us ? * How the Indians became blacky if they had the same original parents with the white people V And numbers more of the like nature.— These things, I must say, have been not a little difficult and discouraging, especially when withal some of the Indians have appeared angry and malicious against Christianity.

"What further contributes to their aversion to Christianity is, the influence which their powaws {conjurers or diviners) have upon them. These are a sort of persons who are supposed to have a power o{foretelling future events^ or recovering the sid^ at least oftentimes, and of charming^ enchanting^ or poisoning persons to death by their mogtc divinations. Their spirit, in its various operations, seems to be a Satanical imitation of the spirit of prophecy with which the church in early ages was favoured. Some of these diviners are endowed with the spirit in infancy;—others in adult age. It seems not to depend upon their own will, nor to be acquired by any endeavours of t^e person who is the subject of it, although it is supposed to be given to children sometimes in consequence of some meaner which the parents use with them for that purpose; one of vrtiich is to make the child swallow a small living frog, after having performed some superstitious rites and ceremonies upon it. They are not under the influence of this spirit always alike,— but it comes upon them at times. Those who are endowed with it, are accounted singularly favoured. " I have laboured to gain some acquaintance with this aflair of their conjuration^ and have for that end consulted and queried with the man mentioned in my diary, May 9, who, since his conversion to Christianity, has endeavoured to give me the best intelligence he could of this matter. But it seems to be such a mystery of iniquity^ that I cannot well understand it, and do not know oftentimes what ideas to affix to the terms he makes use o£ So far as I can learn, he himself has not any clear notions of the thing, now his spirit of divination is gone from him. However, the manner in which he says he obtained this spirit of divination was this ;—he was admitted into the presence of a great 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 clothed with the day; yea, with the brightest day he ever saw : a day of many years, yea, of

eyearlfusting continuance! this whole world, he says, was drawn upon him, so that in him, the earth, and all things in it, might ba seen. I asked him, if rocks, mountains, and seas, were drawn upon, or appeared in him ? He replied, that every thins that was beautiful and lovely in the earth was upon him, and might be seen by looking on him, as well as if one was on the earth to take a view of them there. By the side of the great man, he says, stood his shadow or spirit; for he used (chichungy) the word they commonly use to express that part of the man which survives the body, which word properly signifies a shadow. This shadow, he says, was as lovely as the man himself, and filled all places^ and was most agreeable as well as wonderful to him.—Here he says, he tarried some time, and was unspeak-ably entertained and delighted with a view of the ^reat man, of his shadow, or spirit, and of all things in him. What is most of all astonishing, ne imagines all this to have passed before he was born. He never had been he says, in this world at that time. What confirms him in the belief of this, is, that the gre$tt man told him, that he must come down to earth, be born ^ 9Wh a woman, meet with such and such things, and in par-tlQUlart that he should once in his life be guilty of murder. At tbuf be was displeased, and told the great man he would never murder. But the great man replied, ^I have said it, and it £|hall be so.^ Which has accordingly happened. At this time, h^ says, the great man asked him wnat he would choose in life. T^e replied, first to be a hunter^ and afterwards to be a powaw W[ diviner. Whereupon the great man told him, he should k^ve what he desired, and mat his shadow should go along with him down to earth, and be with him for ever, .There WaSf he says, all this time no words spoken between them* The conference was not carried on by any human language, Vut they had a kind of mental intelligence of each other^s U^ouffhts, dispositions and proposals. After this, he says, he saw uie great man no more ; but supposes he now came down %(} earth to be born, but the spirit or shadow of the great man 9till attended him, and ever after continued to appear to him io dreams and other ways, until he felt the power of God^s word upon his heart; since which it has entirely left him.

^^ The spirit, he says, used sometimes to direct him in dreams to go to such a place and hunt, assuring him he should there meet with success, which accordingly proved so. 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 fft^Bi man^s promise made to him at the tilne of his chosing thid employment

*^ There were some times when this spirit came upon him in a special manner, and he was full of what he saw in the great man. Then, he says, he was all lights and not only light him-

sel^ but it was liffht all araundr him, ao thathe oooU aee through men, and anew the -thoughts of their hearts. Hiese depths of SaUm I leave othera to fathom or to diYe into as they please, and do not pretend, for my own part, to know what ideas to affix to such terms, and cannot well ffuess what conceptions of things these creatures have at these tUDSS . when thev call themselves dU light. But my interpreter teOs me, that ne heard one of them tell a certain Indian the seciet thoughts of hi? heart, which he had never divulged. The case was this: the Indian was bitten with a snake, and was in extreme pain with the bite; whereupon the ifjotner, who was appliea to for his recoyerv, told him, that at gmch a time he had promised, that, the next deer he killed, h» would sacrifice it to some great power^ but had broken his promise. Now, said he; that great power has ordered this snake to bite you for year neglect The Indian confessed it was so, but sakl he had* never told an^ body of it

^^ These thmffs serve to fix them down in their iddairy^ aol to make them believe that there is no safety to be exMNCladt but by their continuing to offer such sacrifices^ The inflweniBe which these potcHROf have upon them,eith^ through the estean or fear they nave of them, is no smaU hindrance to their embracing Christianity.

^ ^ To remove this difficulty, I have laboured to show the Indians, that these diviners have no power to recover the sick, when the God whom christians serve, has determined them for death ; that the supposed great power who influences the diviners has himself no power in this case; and that, if they seem to recover any by their magic charms^ they are only such as the God I preached to them, had determined should recover, and who would have recovered without their conjurations. When I have apprehended them afraid of embracing Christianity lest they should be enchanted and poisoned, I have endeavoured to relieve their minds of this fear, by asking them, Why their po-waw8 did not enchant and poison ihe, seeing they had as much reason to hate me for preaching to them, and desiring them to become christians, as tney could have to hate them in case they should actually become such ? That they might have an evidence of the power and goodness of God engaged for the protection of christians, I ventured to bid a challenge to all their powaws and great powers to do their worst on me first of all, and thus laboured to tread down their influence.

*^ Many things further might be offered up on this head, hot thus much may suffice for a representation of their aversion to, and prejudice against Christianity, the springs of it, and th^dif* ficulties thence arising.

II. *^ Another ^reat difficulty which I have met with in my attempts to christianize the Indians, has been, to convey didne

truths to their understandings^ and to gain their assent to them as such.''

" In the first place, I laboured under a very great disadvantage for want of an Interpreter, who had a good degree of rfoc-trincd as well as experimental knowledge of divine things: in both which respects my present Interpreter was very detective when I first employed him, as noted in the account I before gave of him. And it was sometimes extremely discouraging to me, when I could not make him understand what I designed to communicate; when truths of the last importance appeared foolishness to him for want of a spiritual understanding and relish of them; and when he addressed the Indians in a lifeless, indifferent manner, without any heart-engagement or fervency; and especially when he appeared heartless and irresolute about making attempts for the conversion of the Indians to Christianity, as he frequently did. For although he had a desire that they should conform to Christian manners, as 1 elsewhere observed ; yet, being abundantly acquainted with their strong attachment to their own superstitious notions, and the diflSculty of bringing them off, and having no sense of divine power and grace, nor dependence upon an Almighty arm for the accomplishment of this work, he used to be discouraged, and tell me, * It signifies nothing for us to try, they will never turn.' Thus he was a distressing weight and burden to me. Here I should have sunk scores of times, but God in a remarkable manner supported me; sometimes by giving me full satisfaction that He himself had called me to this work, and thence a secret hope that some time or other I might meet with success in it; or if not, that *• my judgment should notwithstanding be with the Lord, and my work with my God;' sometimes by giving me a sense of his almighty power, and that ^ his hand was not shortened ;^ sometimes by affording me a fresh and lively view of some remarkable freedom and assistance with which I had been repeatedly favoured in prayer for the ingathering of these heathens some years before, even before I was a missionary, and a refreshing sense of the stability and faithfulness of the divine promises, and that the prayer of faith should not fail. Thus I was supported under these trials, and the method God was pleased to take for the removal of this difficulty, respecting my Interpreter, I have sufilciently represented elsewhere.

" Another thing which rendered it very difficult to convey divine truths to the understandings of the Indians, was the defect of their lansua^e^ the want of terms to express and convey ideas of spiritual things. There are no words in the Indian language to answer our English words,' Lord, Saviour, salvation, sinner, justice, condemnation, faith, repentance, justifica-

VoL. X. 43

^

»

tion, adoption, sanctification, grace, glory, heaven,' with scores of the like imporlance. , " Tlie only methoda I can make use for surmounting this difficulty, are, either to describe the things at large designed by these terms, as if 1 was speaking of regeneration, to call it the ' heart's being changed' by God's Spirit, or the ' heart's being made good ;' or to introduce the English terms into their language, and fix the precise meaning of them, that they may know what I intend whenever I use them.

" What renders it much more difficult to convey divine truths to the understandings of these Indians, is, that' there scemii to ho no foundation in their minds to begin upon;' I mean, no truths which may betaken for granted, as being already knows while I am attempting to instil others. As divine truths have such a necessary connexion with, and dependence upon each other, I find it extremely difhcult in my first addresses to Pagans, to begin and discourse of them in their proper order and connexion, without having reference to truths not yet known,— without taking for granted such things as need hrst to be taught and proved. There is no point of Christian doctrine but what they are either wholly ignorant of, or extremely confused in theu- notions about. Therefore it is necessair that they should be instructed in every truth, even in those which are the most easy and obvious to the understanding, and which a person educated nndcrgospel-light would be ready to pass over in silence, as not imagining that any rational creature could be ignorant of.

" The method which I have usually taken in my first addresses to Pagans, has been to introduce myself by saying, that I was come among them with a desire and design of teaching them some things which I presumed they did not know, and which, I trusted, would be for their comfort and happiness, if known, desiring they would give their attention, and hoping they might meet with satisfaction in my discourse. Thence I have proceeded to observe, that there are two things belonging to every man, which I call the sotil and bodi/. These I endeavour to distinguish from each other, by observing to them, that there is something in them that is capable of joy and pleasure, when their bodies are sick and much pained ; and, on the contrary, that they find something within them, that is fearful, sorrowful, ashamed, &c. and consequently very uneasy, when their bodies are in perfect health. 1 then observed to them, that thia which rejoices in them, perhaps at the sight of some friend who has been so long absent, when their bodies are sick and in pain,—this which is sorrowful, frighted, ashamed, &c. and consequently uneasy, when their bodies are perfectly at ease,— this I call the soul. And although it cannot be seen like the other part of the man, viz. the body, yet it is as real as their

thoughts, desires, &c. which are likewise things that cannot be seen,

" I then further observe, that this part of the man which thinks, rejoices, grieves, &c. will hve after the body is dead. For the proof of this, I produce the opinion of their fathers, who, as I am told by a very aged Indian now living, always supposed that there was something of the man which would survive the body. If I can, for the proof of any thing I assert, say, as St Paul to the Athenians, ' As certain also of your own sages havie said,' it is sufficient. Having established this point, I next observe, that what I have to say to them, respects the conscious part of the man; and that with relation to its state after the death of the body; and that I am not come to treat with them about the things that concern the present world.

" This method I am obliged to take, because they will otherwise entirely mistake the design of my preaching, and suppose that the business I am upon, is something which relates to the present world; having never been called together by the white people upon any other occasion, but only to be treated with about the sale of lands, or some other secular business. I find it almost impossible to prevent their imagining that I am engaged in the same, or such like affairs, and to beat it into them, that my concern is to treat with them about their invisible part, and that with relation to its future state.

" But having thus opened the way, by distinguishing between soul and body, and showing the immortality of the former, and that my business is to treat with them in order to their happiness in a future state; I proceed to discourse of the Being and Perfections of God, particularly of his ' eternity, unity, self-sumciency, infinite wisdom, and almighty power.' It is necessary, in the first place, to teach them that God is from ever-lasting^ and so distinguished from all creatures; though it is very difficult to communicate any thing of that nature to them, they having no terms in their language to signify an eternity a parte ante. It is likewise necessary to discourse of the divine unity^ in order to confute the notions they seem to have of a plurality of gods. The divine alUsufficiency must also necessarily be mentioned, in order to prevent their imagining that God was unhappy while alone, before the formation of his creatures. Something respecting the divine wisdom arid power seems necessary to be insisted upon, in order to make way for discoursing of God's works.

" Having offered some things upon the divine perfections mentioned, I proceed to open dhie work of Creation in general, and in particular God's creation of man in a state of uprights ness and happiness, placing them in a garden of pleasure ; the means and manner of their apostacy from that state, and loss

of that happiness. Before I can give a relation of their fidi from God, I am obliged to make a large digreflrion, m order to give an account of ue orifpnal and circomstanees of their fm-per^ his capacity of assuming the shrae of a serpent, from hit oeing a spirit without a body^dus. Hence I go on to show, dn mm of OUT fallen state, the mental blindness and vicious fG»> positions which our first parents then contracted to themselviss, and propagated to all their posterity ; the numerous calamities brmi^t upon them and theirs by tms apostacy from God IfoA the ezposedness of the whole human race to eternal peiditicm. Hence I labour to show them the necessity of an Ahngkiw fib-viour to deliver us firom this deplorable state, as well as of a divine Recdaiion to instruct us in, and direct us agreeable te the wiU of God.

*^ Thus the way, by such an introductory discourse, is pre* pared for opening the gospel scheme of salvation through the great Redeemer, and for treating of diose doctrines which im^ mediately relate to the soul^ renovation by the divine SpoSt, and preparation for a state of everlasting messedneas.

** in ^ving such a relauon of thin|;s to Pagans, it is note little difficult, as observed before, to deliver truths in their pfo-per order without interfering, and without takin|[ for mranled things not as vet known; to discourse of them ma fimiliar inanner, suited to the capacities of heatheo; to illustrate thm by easy and natural similitudes; to obviate or answer the objections which they are disposed to make against the several particulars of it; as well as to take notice of, and confute their contrary notions.

" What has sometimes been very discouraging in my first discourses to them, is, that when 1 have distinguished between the present and/ti^iire state, and shown them that it was my busmess to treat of those things which concern the life to come, they have mocked, and looked upon these things of no importance ; have scarce had a curiosity to hear ; and perhaps walked off before I had half done my discoui^e. In such a case, no impressions can be made upon their miiids to gain their attention. They are not awed by hearing of the anger of God engaged against sinners, or of everlasting punishment as the portion of gospel-neglecters. They are not allured by hearing of the blessedness of those who embrace and obey the gospel. So that to gain their attention to my discourses, has often been as difficult as to give them a just notion of the design of them, or to open truths in their proper order.

** Another difficulty, naturally falling under the head I am now upon, is, that ^ it is next to impossible to bring them to a rational conviction that they are sinners by nature, and that tiieir hearts are corrupt anci sinful,^ unless one could charge them with some gross acts of immorality, such as the light of

fMhire condemns. If they can be charged with behaviour contrary to the commands of the second table^ —with manifest abuses of their neighbour, they will generally own such actions to be wrong; but then they seem as if they thought only the actions were sinful, and not their hearts. 6ut if they cannot be charged with suj:h scandalous actions, they seem to have no consciousness of sin and guilt at all, as I had occasion to observe in my Diary, March 24. So that it is very difficult to convince them rationally of that which is readily acknowledged, thoush, alas! rarely felt, in the Christian world, viz. ' That we are all sinners.^

" The method which I take to convince them that * we are sinners by nature,^ is, to lead them to an observation of their little children^ how they will appear in a rage, fight and strike their mothers, before they are able to speak or walk, while they are so young that it is plain they are incapable of learning such practices. As the light of nature in the Indians condemns such Dehaviour in children towards their parents, they must own these tempers and actions to be wrong and sinful. As the children have never learned these things, they must have been in their natures; and consequently they must be allowed to be **by nature the children of wrath." The same I observe to them with respect to the sin of lying, to which their children seem much inclined. They tell lies without being taught so to do, from their own natural inclination, as well as against restraints, and after corrections for that vice, which proves them sinners by nature.

" Furtner; in order to show them that th^ir hearts are all corrupted and sinful, I observe to them, that this may be the case, and they not be sensible of it through the blindness of their minds; and that it is no evidence that they are not sinful, because they do not know and feel it. 1 then mention all the vices I know the Indians to be guilty of, and so make use of these sinful streams to convince them that the fountain is corrupt. Thii^ is the end for which I mention their wicked prac-i ices to them; not because I expect to b;'ing them to an effeC" tual reformation merely by inveighing against their immorali* ties; but hoping that they may hereby be convinced of the corruption of their hearts, and awakened to a sense of the depravity and misery of their fallen state.

" For the same purpose, viz. \ to convince them that they are sinners,' I sometimes open to them the great command of * loving God with all the heart, strength, and mind ;' show them the reasonableness of loving Him who has made, preserved, and dealt bountifully with us; and then labour to show them that they have utterly neglected this duty, and that they have been so far from loving God in this manner, that, on the contrary, he has not been ^ in all their thoughts.^

^ Sdch are the means which I have mlEide use of to remofe this difficulty; but if it be asked after all, ^ How tt was sur-mounted ?^ 1 must answer, God himself was pleased to do k with regard ta a.number of these Indians, by taking his woA • into his own hand, and making them feel at heart, that they were both sinful and miserable. In the day of God^s poirait whatever was spoken to them from God^s word, served to cn^ vince them that they were sinners ; even the most meltn^ in- * vitations of the ffospel; and to fill them with solicitude to obtaii a deliverance from that deplorable state.

*^ Further; it is extremely difficult to ffive them any just nOr tion of the undertaking of Christ in behalf of sinners; dim obeying and suffering in their room and stead, in order to atenft for their sins, and procure their salvation; and of their bdqg justified by his righteousness imputed to them.—^They are in gs» neral wholly unacquainted wiuicioUlaws and {Nroceedingv^wi know of no such thing as one person being substituted as M' surety in the room of another, nor have any kind of notion ofefajl judicatures, of persons being arraigned, tried, judged, coodemaH ed, or acquitted. Hence it is very difficult to treat withthw upon any thing of this nature, or that bean any relation to l^gtft procedures. Although they cannot but have som^ dealiip with the white people, in order to procure clothing and otnit necessaries of life, yet it is scarce ever known that any one pa|i a jp^ftnjr for another, but each one stands for himsel£ • Y^t. tb> is a thing which may be supposed, though seldom practised among them, and they may be made to understand, that if a friend of theirs pay a debt for them, it is right that upon that consideration they themselves should be discharged.

^^ This is the only way I can take in order to give them a

E roper notion of the undertaking and satisfaction of Christ in ehalf of sinners. But here naturally arise two questions. Firsts *' What need there was of Christ^s obeying and sufiering for us; why God would not look upon us to be good creatures^ to use my common phrase for justification, on account of our own good deeds V In answer to which I sometimes observe, that a child being never so orderly and obedient to its parents to-day, does by no means satisfy for its contrary behaviour yester-day ; and that if it be loving and obedient at some times only, and at other times cross and disobedient, it never can be looked upon a good child for its own doings, since it ought to have behaved in an obedient manner always. This simile strikes their minds in an easy and forcible manner, and serves, in a measure, to illustrate the point. For the light of nature, as before hinted, teaches them, that their children ought to be obedient to them, and that at all times; and some of them are very severe with them for the contrary behaviour. This I apply in the plainest manner to our behaviour towards God; and

SO show them, that it is impossible for us, since we have sinned against God, to be justified before him by our own doings, since present and future goodness, although perfect and coti" slants could never satisfy for past misconduct.

" A second question is,' If our debt was so great, and if we all deserved to suffer, how one person's suffering was sufficient to answer for the whole V Here 1 have no better way to illustrate the infinite value of Christ's obedience and sufferings, arising from the dignity and excellency of his person^ than to show them the superior value of gold to that of baser metals, and that a small quantity of this will discharge a greater debt, than a vast quantity of the common copper pence. After all, it is extremely difficult to treat with them upon this great doctrine of * justification by imputed righteousness/ I scarce know how to conclude this head, so many things occurring which might properly be added here; but what has been mentioned, may iterve for a specimen of the difficulty of conveying divine truths to the understandings of these Indians, and oi gaming their assent to them as such.

III. ** Their intonvenient situations^ savage manners^ and UU" happy method of livings have been an unspeakable difficulty and discouragement to me in my work.—They generally live in the wilderness, and some whom I have visited, at great distances firom the English settlements. This has obliged me to travel much, oftentimes over hideous rocks, mountains, and swamps, and fi'equently to lie out in the open woods ; which deprived me of the common comforts of life, and greatly impaired my health.

" When I have got among them in the wilderness, I have often met with great difficulty in my attempts to discourse to th^m.—I have sometimes spent hours with them in attempting to answer their objections, and remove their jealousies, before I could prevail upon them to give me a hearing upon Chris-tiaoitv. I have been often obliged to preach in their houses in coid and windy weather, when they have been full of smoke and cinders, as well as unspeakably filthy; which has many times thrown me into violent sick head-achs.

** While I have been preaching, their children have frequently cried to such a degree, that I could scarcely be heard, and meir Pagan mothers would take no manner of care to nuiet theoL At the same time, perhaps, some have been laughing and mocking at divine truths ; others playing with their dogs, wfaittleing sticks, and the like; and this, in many of them, not from spite and prejudice, but for want of better manners.

^ A view of these things has been not a little sinking and discouraging to me. It has sometimes so far prevailed upon mc as to render me entirely dispirited, and wholly unable to go on with my work; and given me such a melancholy turn of mind.

that I have mtnjr times thought I could never more ftddnatn Indian apon religioui matten.

" The Bolitaiy manner in which I have generally beea obliged to live, on account of their inconvenient utoatUKit In been not a little preasins. I have spent the sreater part of , my time, for more than uiree years past, entirdy alone, as to any agreeable society; and a very considerable part, of it m bouses by myself, without having the company.Of aiwtuuDaa creature. Sometimes I have scarcely seen an EngUMman Jbr a month or six weeks together; and have had my sphita so depressed with melancholy views of the tempers wid conduct of Pagans, when t have been for sometime c<aifined witfi Ihsm, that I nave felt as if banidbed from all the peofde of God.

" I have likewise been wholly alone in my wotk, then bdng no other mitntmary among the Indians in eiUier of thoejMO-vinces. Other mmuf «r», nether knowing the pectdiar difficid-ties nor most adoantageout methods (^ peifiinning my wotk! ' have been ^le to afford me little assistance or support in anf -respect—A feeling of the great disadvantages of being alone in mis work, has discovered to me the wisdom and goodness of the great Head of the church, in sending forth his disciples two ' aid two, in order to proclum the sacred mysteries of nig king-dom; and has made me long for a colleague to be a partner of my cares, hopes, and fears, as well as Iwonrs among the Indians; and excited me to use some means in order to procure ■nch an assistant, although I have not as yet been so happy as to meet with success in that respect.

" I have not only met with great difficulty in traveOiDg to, and for some time residing among, the Indians far remote in the wilderness, but also in living with them, in one place and another, more statedly. I have been obliged to remove my residence from place to place; having procured, and afler some poor fashion, furnished three houses for living among tbenii in the space of about three years past. One at Kaunatimed, about twenty miles distant &om the city of Albany; one at the Forks of Delaware, in Pennsylvania, and one at Cro$t-wpehsung, in New-Jersey. The Indians in the latter of these

Provinces, with whom I have latterly spent most of my time, eing not long since removed from the place where they lived last winter ; (the reason of which I mentioned in my Diar;, March 24, and May 4;) have now no house at all of my own, but am obliged to lodge with an English family at a confdd& rable distance from them, to tlie great disadvantage of my work among them ; they being like children that continually need advice and direction, as well as ini^tement to their nc^ld? business.—The houses in which I have formerly lived are tX great distances from each other; the two nearest of them being

more than seventy miles apart, and neither of them within fifteen miles of the place where the Indians now live.

" The Indians are a very poor and indigent people, and so destitute of the comforts of life, at some seasons of the year especially, that it is impossible for a person who has any pity on them, and concern for the christian interest, to live among them without considerable expense, especially in time of sickness. If any thing be bestowed on one, as in some cases it is peculiarly necessary, in order to remove their Pagan jealousies, and engage their friendship to Christianity, others, be there never so many of them, expect the same treatment. While thejr retain their Pagan tempers, they discover little gratitude, amid all the kindnesses which they receive. If they make any presents, they expect double satisfaction. Christianity itself does not at once cure them of these ungrateful tempers.

" They are in general unspeakably indolent and slothful.— They have been bred up in idleness, and know little about cultivating land, or indeed about engaging vigorously in any other business. I am obliged to instruct them m, as well as press them to, the performance of their work, and take the oversight of all their secular business. They have little or no ambition or resolution. . Not one in a thousand of them has the spirit of a man. It is next to impossible to make them sensible of the duty and importance of being active, diligent, and industrious in the management of their worldly business; and to excite in them any spirit and promptitude of that nature. When I have laboured, to the utmost of my ability, to show them of what importance it would be to the christian interest among them, as well as to their worldly comfort, for them to be laborious and prudent in their business, and to furnish themselves with the comforts of life; how this would incline the Pasans to come among them, and so put them under the means of salvation ;—^how it would encourage religious persons of the white people to help them, as well as to stop the mouths of others, who are disposed to cavil against them, and how they miffht by this means pay others their just dues, and so prevent trouble from coming among themselves, and reproach upon their christian profession; —they have indeed assented to all 1 said, but been little moved^ and consequently have acted like themselves, or at least too much so. Though it must be acknowledged, that those who appear to have a sense of divine things, are considerably amended in this respect, and it is to be hoped, that time will make a yet greater alteration upon them for the better.

" The concern I have had for the settling of these Indians in New Jersey, in a compact form, in order to their being a christian congregation, in a capacity of enjoying the means of grace; the care of managing their worldly business in order to

Vol. X. 44

V

346 M£MOiRS or brainsrd.

this.end^ and to their having a comfortable livelihood; have been more pressing to my mind, and cost me more labour and fatigue, for several months past, than all my other work among them,

^^ Their ^ wandering to and fro in order to procure the necessaries of life,* is another difficulty which attends my woriL This has often deprived me of opportunities to disconme to them. It has thrown them in the way c^ temptation; eifher amonff Pagans further remote where they have gone to hmt, who have laughed at them for hearkening to CSuistiamty; or, among white people, more horribly wicked, who have often made them drunk; then got their commodities—such as sUni, baskets, Inrooms, shovels, and the like, with which Uiey designed to have bought com, and other necessanes of life, fa themselves and families,— for, it may be, nothingbirtalilde strong liquor; and then sent them home empty. Tor the labour, perhaps, of several weeks, they have thus got notfauog but the satisfaction of bein|; drunk once; and have hot oid^ lost their labour, but, which is infinitely worse, the ini|iranobB of some divine subjects that were made upon their noiikb be^ fae.—^But I forbear enlarging upon this head. The few lunts I have given maybe sufficient to give thinking.penoEm soane apprehensions of the difficulties attending mywcm, on acoount • of the inconvenient situations and sancLge mannim of the Indians, as well as of their unhappy mode ofUoing*

IV. *^ The last difficulty I shall mention, as having att^iided my work, is, ^ what has proceeded from the attempts which some illrminded persons have designedly made^ to hinder the propagation of the gospel, and a work of divine grace among the Indians.^ —The Indians are not only of themselves prejudiced against Christians, on the various accounts which 1 have already mentioned; but, as if this were not enough, there are some m all parts of the country where I have preached to them, who have taken pains industriously to bind them down in pagan darkness; ^ neglecting to enter into the kingdom of God themselves, and labouring to hinder others/

^^ After the beginning of the religious attention amon^ the Indians in New-Jersey, some endeavoured to prejudice mem against me and the truths I taught them, b]^ the most bi^e, unmanly, and false suggestions of things which had no foundation but in their own brains. Some particulars of this kind I formerly took notice of in one of the remarks made upon my Diary, concluded the 20th of November last; and might have added more, and of another nature, had not delicacy forbidden me to mention what was too obscene. But, through the mercy of God, they were never able, by all their abonunable insinuations, flouting jeers, and downright lies, to create in the Indians those jealousies with which they desired to posses them;

and so were never suffered to hinder the work of grace among them.—When they saw that they could not prejudice the Indians against me, nor hinder them from receiving the gospel^ they then noised it through the country, ' that I was undoubtedly a Roman catholic ; that I was gathering together, and traming up the Indians in order to serve a Popish interest;

. aod that I should quickly head them, and cut peopie^s throats/

" What they pretended gave them reason for this opinion,

was, that they understood I had a commission from Scotland.

Whereupon they could with great assurance say, * All Scotland

19 turned to the Pretender ; and this is but a Popish plot to

. make a party for him here.^ Some, I am informed, actually went to the civil authority with complaints a^^ainst me; but

: cinly laboured under this unhappiness, that when they came, they had nothing to complain of, and could give no colour of

. .fctason why they attempted any such thing, or desired the civil ;_- authority to take cognizance of me, having not a word to al-

/ l^ge against my preaching or practice^ only they surmised that

^ because the Indians appeared so very loving and orderly^ they had a design of imposing upon people by that means, and so of

' getting a better advantage to cut their throats. With what

"ifimper they would have had the Indians appear, in order to have

r'ven no occasion^ nor have left any room for such a suspicion, cannot tell. I presume if they had appeared with the con-.Hl»wry temper, it would quickly have been observed of them, that ' they were now grown surly,' and in all probability were _^preparing to 'cut people's throats.'—From a view of these , things, I have had occasion to admire the wisdom and goodness .. of God in providing so full and authentic a commission for the '. undertaking and carrying on of this work, without which, not-' withstanding the charitableness of the design, it had probably

met with molestation.

.:.. "The Indians, who have been my hearers in New-Jersey^

'. -have likewise been sued for debt, and threatened with imprisoii-

ment more since 1 came among them, as they inform me, than

io seven years before. The reason of this, I suppose, was, they

. left frequenting those tippling houses where they used to con-

smne most of what they gained by hunting and other means.

.; These persons, seeing that the hope of future gain was lost,

were resolved to make sure of what they could. Perhaps some

. of them put the Indians to trouble, purely out of spite at their

.' embracing Christianity.

-. " This conduct of theirs has been very distressing to me; for . I was sensible, that if they did imprison any one that embraced, or hearkened to Christianity, the news of it would quickly (spread among the Pagans, hundreds of miles distant, who would immediately conclude that I had involved them in thi§ difficulty, and thence be filled with prejudice against Christianf-

l:.

tv, and strengthened in their jealousy, that the whole of my design among, them, was to ensnare and enslave them. I knew that some or the Indians upon Susquehannah had made this objection against hearing me preach, m. That they understood that a number of Inaians in Maryland, some hundreds of miles distant, who had been uncommonly free with the English, were after a while put in jail, and sold. Whereupon they concluded, it was best for them to keep at a distance, and have nothing to do with Christians. The method I took in order to remove this difficulty, was, to press the Indians with all posrible speed to pay their aebu , and to exhort those of them that had 9lm» or money^ and were themselves in good measure fiee of debt, to help oUiers that were oppressed. Frequently upon such occasions I have jmid money out of my own pock^ wnich I have not as yet received again.

*^ These are some of the difficulties which I have met with from the conduct of lAo«e who, notwithstanding their acticms so mixh tend to hinder the propagation of Christianity, would, I suppose be loth to be reputed Pagans. Thus I have endeavoured to nsh sweV tiie demands of the Hon. Society in relation to eocft of the particulars mentioned in their leiier. —If ykhsX I have writleD may be in any measure agreeable and satis&ctory to them, and serve to excite in them, or any of God^s people, a spirit ofjprajr* er and supplication for the furtherance ofa work of grace among the Indians Aere, and the propagating of it to their distant tribes I shsJl have abundant reason to rejoice, and bless God in this as well as in other respects/^

" DAVID BRAINERD."

" June 20, 1746.

P. S. " Since the conclusion of the preceding Journal— which was designed to represent the operations of one year only, from the first time of my preaching to the Indians in New-Jersey —I administered the sacrament of the hordes Supper^ a secona time in my congregation, viz. on the 13th of July. At this time there were more than thirty communicants of the Indians, although divers were absent who should have communicated; so considerably has God enlarged our number since the former solemnity of this kind, described somewhat particularly in my Diary. This appeared to be a season of divine power and grace, not unlike the former; a season of refreshing to God's people in general, and of awakening to some others; althou^ the divine influence manifestly attending the several services of the solemnity, seemed not so great and powerful as at the former season.

" D. BRAINERD."

SECTION IV. Attestations of Divine Grace displayed among the Indians,

FIRST ATTESTATION.

^^ Since my dear and Rev. brother Brainerd, has at length consented to the publication of his Journal, I gladly embrace this opportunity of testifying, that our altogether glorious Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ, has given such sl display of his Almighty

Eower and sovereign grace, not only in the external reformation ut, [in a judgment of charity,] the saving conversion of a considerable number of Indians, mat it is really wonderful to all beholders I though some, alas ! notwithstanding sufficient grounds of conviction to the contrary, do Join with the devil, that avowed enemy of God and man, m endeavouring to prevent this glorious work, by such ways and means as are mentioned in the aforesaid Journal, to which I must refer the reader for a faithful, though very brief, account of the time when, the place where, the means by which, and manner how, this wished for work has been begun and carried on, by the great Head of the Church. This 1 can the more confidently do, not only because I am intimately acquainted with the author, but on account of my own personal knowledge of the matters of fact recorded in it respecting the work itself. As I live not far from the Indians, I have been much conversant with them, both at their own place, and in my own parish, where they generally convene for public worship in Mr. Brainerd's absei\ce; and I think it my duty to acknowledge, that their conversation, hath often, under God, refreshed my soul,

" To conclude, it is my opinion, that the change wrought in those savages^ namely, from the darkness of Paganism, to the knowledge of the pure gospel of Christ; from sacrificing to devils, to ' present themselves, body and soul, a living sacrifice to God,' and that not only from the persuasion of their minister^ but from a clear heart-affecting sense of its being their reasonable service ; this change I say is so great, that none could effect it but He ' who worketh all things after the good pleasure of his own will.' I would humbly hope that this is only the first fi'uits of a much greater harvest to be brought in from among the Indians, by HIM, who has promised to give his Son ' the Heathen for his inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for his possession:'—who hath also declared, ' That the whole earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea.' Even so. Lord Jesus, come quickly. Amen and Amen.

" I am, courteous reader,

" thy soul's well wisher,

Freehold, August 16,1746. " WILLIAM TENNENT.'*

" —

350 ' M4«OUl8 er BEAIVC&D*

SECOND ATTESTATION.

*^ As iftmuAt needs afford a sacred pleasure to such ascoidialljr desii'e the prosperity and advancement of the Redeemer's Idng-dom and interest in the world, to hear, that our mercifiil and gracious God is in very deed fulfilling such preciona promiseB as relate to die poor Heathen, bj sending h» everlastiiiff ms-pel among them, which, with concurrence of his hoIySpnity if removing mat worse than Egyptian darkness, wfaerebjr toe god of lliis world has long held them in willing subjection; so tfaii narrative will perhaos be more acceptable to the w<M*ld, wbem it is confirmed by tne testimony of such as vrere either m-witnesses of this glorious dawn of gospel-li|^t among the ne-nighted Pagans, or personally acquainted vnth those of them, in whom, in a judgment of charity, a gracious change has been wrought Therefore, I the more willingly join with my brethren Mr. William Tennent, and Mr. Brainerd, inaflixmg mv attestation to the fbresoing narrative; and look upon myself as concerned in point of duty^both to God and his people, to do so, because I live contiguous to their settlement, Btad have had frequent opportunities of being present at their religiooa meetings ; where I have with pleasmg wonder, bieheld what* I am strongly inclined to believe were the effects of God*s Ahni|di-ty power accompanying his own truths; more aspecicJ^^on ue ^th day of August, 1745. While the word of God was macb-ed by Mr. Brainerd, there appeared an uncommon solenmity among the Indians in general; but, I am wholly unable to give a full representation of the surprising effects of God^s Almighty power which appeared among them when public service was over. While Mr. Brainerd urged upon some of them the absolute necessity of a speedy closure with Christ, the holy Spirit seemed to be poured out upon them in a* plenteous measure, insomuch as the Indians present in the wigwam seemed to be brought to the jailor^s case, Acts xvi. 30, utterly unable to conceal the distress and perplexity of their souls. This prompted the pious among them to bring the dispersed congregation together, who soon seemed to be in the greatest extremity. Some were earnestly begging for mercy, under a solemn sense of their perishing condition; while others were unable to arise from the earth, to the great wonder of those white people that were present, one of whom is by this means, I trust, savingly brought to Christ since. Nay, so very extraordinary was the concern which appeared among these poor Indians in general, that I am ready to conclude, it might have been sufficient to have convinced an Atheist, that the Lord was indeed in the place. I am for my part, fully persuaed that this glorious work is true and genuine, while with satisfaction I behold several of these Indians discovering all the symptoms ofimvard holiness in their lives and con*

-J

versation. 1 had the satisfaction of joining with them in their service on the 11th of August, 1746 : which was a day set apart for imploring the divine blessing on the labours of their minister among other tribes of Indians on the Susquehannah: in all which they conducted themselves with a very decent and becoming gravity; and as far as I am capable of judging, they may be proposed as examples of piety and godliness, to all the white people around them, which indeed is justly, * marvellous in our eyes,' especially considering what they lately had been. Oh may the glorious God shortly bring about that desirable time, when our exalted Immanuel shall have the Heathen given for his inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for his possession!''

" CHARLES MACNIGHT."

^^Crosswicks^t August 20,1746.

THIRD ATTESTATION.

" We whose names are underwritten, being elders and deacons of the Presbyterian Church in Freehold, do hereby testify, that in our humble opinion, God, even our Saviour, has brought a considerable number of the Indians in these parts to a saving union with himself. Of this we are persuaded from a personal acquaintance with them ; whom we not only hear speak of the great doctrines of the gospel with humility, affection, and understandings but we see walk, as far as man can judge, soberly, righteously, and godly. We have joined with them at the Lord's supper, and do from our hearts esteem them as our brethren in Jesus. For these who were not God's people^ may now be called the children of the living God; it is the Lord^s doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes.'' Oh that he may go on *' conquering and to conquer,' until he has subdued all things to himself! This is and shall be the unfeigned desire and prayer of,

*

" Walter Ker, \ " William Ker, \

" Robert Cummins, Ik " Samuel Ker, I tl

" David Rhe, ( g " Samuel Craig, f §

" John Henderson, [ ^ i §

*' John Anderson, ] ^ \ ^

"Joseph Ker, / /

Presbyterian Churchy Freehold^ Aug. 16,1746.

CHAPTER XL

Frcm the close of his Journal^ June 19,1746, to the tenmnaiioH of his Missionary Labours^ March 30,1747*

Thb hardships which Brainerd had endured, had now obvH ously affected his constitution; and unfitted him for ai life of so much toil and exposure. Of this, he appears not to have been aware, until the case had become hopeless; and nnfortanatdy, the circumstances, in which he was placed, were calculated instead of retarding, td hasten the ravages of disease. He lived alone, in the midst of a wilderness; in a miserable hut, buih bj Indians; with few of the necessaries, and none of die comforts of life; at a distance from civilized society; without even a nurse or a physician.' His labours, also, were sufficient to have impaired a vigorous constitution. It is not surprising, therefore, that his health was gradually, but fiitally undermined.

On Friday^ June 20th, as well as on the next day^ lie was very ill; though, vrith great effort, he was enabled to preach to his people on Saturday. His illness continued on the SdthaA^ but he preached, notwithstanding, to his people both parts of the day; and after the public worship was ended, he endea'* voured to apply divine truths to the consciences of some, and addressed them personally for that end; several were in tears, and some appeared much affected. But he was extremely wearied with the services of the day, and so ill at night, that he could have no bodily rest; but remarks, that ' God was his support, and that he was not left destitute of comfort in him.^ On Monday^ he continued very ill; but speaks of his mind being calm and composed, resigned to the divine dispensations, and content with his feeble state. By the account which he gives of himself, the remaining part of this week, he continued-very feeble, and for the most part dejected in mind. He enjoyed no great freedom nor sweetness in spiritual things; except that for some very short spaces of time he had refreshment and encouragement, which engaged his heart on divine things; and sometimes his heart was melted with spiritual affection.

Lord'^8 day^ June 29. " Preached both parts of the day, from John xiv. 19. ' Yet a little while, and the world seeth me no more,' &c. God was pleased to assist me, to afford me both freedom and power, especially towards the close of my

discourse, both forenoon and afternoon. God^s power appeared in the assembly, in both exercises. Numbers of God's people were refreshed and melted with divine things ; one or two comforted, who had been long under distress; convictions, in divers instances, powerfully revived ; and one man in years much awakened, who had not long frequented our meeting, and appeared before as stupid as a stock. God amazingly renewed and lengthened out my strength. I was so spent at noon, that I could scarce walk, and all my joints trembled ; so that I could not sit, nor so much as hold my hand still: and yet God strengthened me to preach with power in the afternoon; although I had given out word to my people, that I did not expect to be able to do it. Spent some time afterwards in conversing, particularly, with several persons, about their spiritual state; and had some satisfaction concerning one or two. Prayed afterwards with a sick child, and gave a word of exhortation. Was assisted in all my work. Blessed be God, Returned home with more health, than I went out with ; although my linen was wringing wet upon me, from a little fiifter ten in the morning, till past nve in the afternoon. My spirits also were considerably refreshed; and my soul rejoiced in hope, that I had through grace done something for God. In the evening, walked out, and enjoyed a sweet season in secret prayer and praise. But oh, 1 found the truth of the Psalmist's words, * My goodness extendeth not to thee !' I could not make any returns to God; I longed to live only to him, and to be in tune for his praise and service for ever. Oh, for spirituality and holy fervency, that I might spend and be spent for God to ray latest moment!

June 30. " Spent the day in writing; but under much weakness and disorder. Felt the labours of the preceding day; although my spirits were so refreshed the evening before, that 1 was not then sensible of my being spent.

July h " In the afternoon, visited, and preached to my people, from Heb. ix. 27. And as it is appointed unto men once to die, &c. on occasion of some person's lying at the point of death, in my congregation. God gave me some assistance ; and his word made some impressions on the audience, in general. This was an agreeable and comfortable evening to my soul: my spirits were somewhat refreshed, with a small degree of freedom and help enjoyed in my work."

On Wednesday he went to Newark, to a meeting of the Presbytery; complains of lowness of spirits; and greatly la-ments his spending his time so unfruitfuUv. The remaining part of the week he spent there, and at Elizabethtown ; and speaks of comfort and divine assistance, from day to day ; but yet greatly complains for want of more spirituahtv.

Vol. X. 45

hordes daf/y July 6. " [At Elizabethtown.] Enjoyed gome composure and serenity of mind, in the morning : heard Mr. Dickinson preach, in the forenoon, and was refreshed with his discourse; was in a melting frame, some part of the time of sermon : partook of the Lord^s supper, and enjoyed some sense, of divine things in that ordinance. In the afternoon I preached from Ezek. xxxiii. 11. ^ As 1 live, saith the Lord God,^ &c. God favoured me with freedom and fervency, and helped me to plead his cause, beyond my own power.

July 7. ^' My spirits were considerably refreshed and raised, in the morning. There is no comfort, I find, in any enjoyment, without enjoying God, and bemg engaged in his service. In the evening, had the most agreeable conversation which I remember in all my life, upon God^s being all in dU^ and all enjoyments being just that to us which God makes them, and no more. It is ^ooa to begin and end with God. O how does a sweet solemnity lay a foundation, for true pleasure and happiness \

July 8. " Rode home, and enjoyed some agreeable meditations by the way.

July 9. " Spent the day in writing, enjoyed some comfort and refreshment of spirit in my evening retirement.

July 10. " Spent most of the day in writing. Toward's night rode to Mr. Tennent's ; enjoyed some agreeable conversation : went home in the evening, in a solemn, sweet frame of mind; was refreshed in secret duties, longed to live wholly and only for God, and saw plainly, there was nothing in the world Avorthy of my afTection; so that my heart was dead to all below ; yet not through dejection, as at some times, but from views of a better inheritance.

Jidy 11. " Was in a calm, composed frame, in the morning, especially in the season of my secret retirement. I think, that I was veil pleased with the will of God, whatever it was, or should be, in all respects of which I had then any thought. Intending to administer the Lord's supper the next Lord's day, I looked to God for his presence and assistance upon that occasion ; but felt a disposition to say,' The will of the Lord be done,' whether it be to give me assistance, or not. Spent some little time in writing ; visited the Indians, and spent some time in serious conversation with them: thinking it not best to preach, many of them being absent.

July 12. " This day was spent in fasting and prayer by my congregation, as preparatory to the sacrament. I discoursed, both parts of the day, from Rom. iv. 25. ' Who was delivered for our offences,' &c. God gave me some assistance in roy discourses, and something of divine power attended the word; so that this was an agreeable season. Afterwards led them to a solemn renewal of their covenant, and fresh dedication of

themselves to God. This was a season both of solemnity and sweetness, and God seemed to be ' in the midst of us.' Re* turned to my lodgings, in the evening, in a comfortable frame ofmind.

Lord^s day^ July 13. " In the forenoon, discoursed on the bread oflife^ from John vi. 35. God gave me some assistance, in part of my discourse especially; and there appeared some tender affection in the assembly under divine truths ; my soul also was somewhat refreshed. Administered the sacrament of the Lord's supper to thirty-one persons of the Indians. God seemed to be present in this ordinance; the communicants were sweetly melted and refreshed, most of them. O how they melted, even when the elements were first uncovered! There was scarcely a dry eye among them, when I took off the linen, and showed them the symbols of Christ's broken body. —Having rested a little, after the administration of the sacrament, I visited the communicants, and found them generally in a sweet loving frame; not unlike what appeared among them on the former sacramental occasion, on April 27. In the afternoon, discoursed upon coming to Christy and the satisfaction of those who do so, from the same verse I insisted on m the forenoon. This was likewise an agreeable season, a season of much tenderness, affection, and enlargement in divine service; and God, I am persuaded, crowned our assembly with his divine presence. I returned home much spent, yet rejoicing in the goodness of God.

July 14. " Went to my people, and discoursed to them from Psal. cxix. 106. ' I have sworn, and I will perform it,' &c. Observed, L That all God!^^ judgments or commandments are righteous. 2. That God's people have sworn to keep them; and this they do especially at the Lord's table. There appeared to be a powerful divine influence on the assembly, and considerable melting under the word. Afterwards, I lead them to a renewal of their covenant before God, that they would watch over themselves and one another, lest they should fall into sin and dishonour the name of Christ, just as I did on Monday, April 28. This transaction was attended with great solemnity : and God seemed to own it by exciting in them a fear and jealousy of themselves, lest they should sin against God; so that the presence of God seemed to be amongst us in this conclusion of the sacramental solemnity."

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

Lord^s day^ July 20. " Preached twice to my people from

John xvii. 24. ^ Father, I will that they also ivhom tfaon ha^ given me, be with me, where I am, that they may behold my glory, which thou hast ^ven me/ Was helped to discoutae with great clearness and plainness in the forenoon. ' In die •afternoon, enjoyed some tenderness, and spake with some influence. Numbers were in tears; and some, to appearance, in distress.

July 21. ^^ Preached to the Indians, chiefly fhr the sake of some strangers ; proposed my design of taking a joUtoot q>ee-dily to the Susquehannah; exhorted my people to pray unr ine, that God would be with me in that journey; and then tdKwe divers persons of the congregation to travel with me. Afte^ wards, spent some time in discoursing to the stranflen, and was somewhat encouraged with them. Took care of my people's secular business, and was not a little ezefciaed intn it Had some degree of composure and comfort in secret retire ment.

July2i. ^^ Was in a dejected frame, most of the day; wanted to wear out life, and have it at an end; but had some desires of living to God^ and wearing out life/or Am. O ^ai I could indeed do BO P'*

The next day he went to Elizabethtown, to a mooting of the Presbytery; and spent this, and ThurBday^BSiA the former part of Friday^ under a very great decree or melanchofy, and ffloominess of mind; not through any fear of future punishment, but as being distressed with a senselessness of all ffo'od, so that the whole world appeared empty and gloomy to him. In the latter part oiFridayhe was greatly relieved and comforted.

July 26. " Was comfortable in the morning; my countenance and heart were not sad, as in days past; enjoyed some sweetness in lifting up my heart to God. Rode home to my people, and was in a comfortable, pleasant frame by the way; my spirits were much relieved of their burden, and I felt free to go through all difficulties and labours in my Master^s service.

Lord's day^ July 27. " Discoursed to my people in the forenoon, from Luke xii. 37, on the duty and benefit of watching, God helped me in the latter part of my discourse, and the power of God appeared in the assembly. In the afternoon, discoursed from Luke xiii. 25. When once the master of the house is risen up^ &c. Here also I enjoyed some assistance ; and the Spirit of God seemed to attend what was spoken, so that there was a great solemnity, and some tears among Indians and others.

July 28. " Was very weak, and scarce able to perform any business at all; but enjoyed sweetness and comfort in prayer, both morning and evening; and was composed and comforta-

ble through the day. My mind was intense, and my heart fervent, at least in some degree, in secret duties; and I longed to spend and be spent for God.

July "-29. " My mind was cheerful, and free from the melancholy, with which I am often exercised; had freedom in looking up to God, at various times in the day. In the even-ins, I enjoyed a comfortable season in secret prayer; was helped to plead with God for my own dear people, that he would carry on his own blessed work among them ; was assisted also in praying for the divine presence to attend me in my intended journey to the Susquehannah; and was helped to remember dear brethren and friends in New England. I scarce knew how to leave the throne of grace, and it grieved me that I was obliged to go to bed; I longed to do something for God, but knew not how. Blessed be God for this freedom from dc-Jection.

. July 30. " Was uncommonly comfortable, both in body and mind; in the forenoon especially, my mind was solemn; 1 was assisted in my work; and God seemed to be near to me; so that the day was as comfortable as most I have enjoyed for some • time. In the evening, was favoured with assistance in secret prayer, and felt much as I did the evening before. Blessed be God for that freedom I then enjoyed at the throne of grace, for myself, my people, and my dear friends. It is good for me to draw near to God.'*'*

He seems to have continued very much in the same free, comfortable state of mind the next day.

Aug. I. "In the evening, enjoyed a sweet season in secret prayer; clouds of darkness and perplexing care were sweetly scattered, and nothing anxious remained. O how serene was my -mind at this season ! how free from that distracting concern I have often felt! ' Thy will be done,' was a petition sweet to my soul; and if God had bidden me choose for myself in any affair, I should have chosen rather to have referred the choice to him; for I saw he was infinitely wise, and could not do any thing amiss, as I was in danger of doing. Was assisted in prayer for my dear flock, that God would promote his own work among them, and that God would go with me in my intended journey to the Susquehannah; was helped to remember my dear friends in New England, and my dear brethren in the ministry. I found enough in the sweet duty of prayer to have engaged me to continue in it the whole night, would my bodily state have admitted of it. O how sweet it is, to be enabled heartily to say, Lord^ not my will^ hut thine be done.

Aug. 2, ** Near night, preached from Matt. xi. 29. Take

my yoke mon you^ Slc Was coiuiderably helped; and the presence of Grod seemed to be somewhat remarkably in the assembly ; divine truths made poweriiil impressions, bo^ upon saints and sinners. Blessed oe God for such a revival among us. In tfie evening was very weary, but found my spirits supported and refreshed.

Lord*9 dauj Aug. 3. ^ Discoursed to my people, in the forenoon, from Col. hi. 4. and observed, that Cmrist is the believer^s Idfe. God helped me, and gave me his oresence in this discourse ; and it was a season of considtdrable power to the assembly. In the afternoon, preached from Luke Jiiz. 41, 42. And when hewascome near^ he beheld the cUv^ ^rc 1 enjoyed some assistance; though not so much as in tne forenoon. In ' the evening I enjoyed freedom and sweetness in secret prayer; God enlarged my heart, freed me from melancholy damps, and gave me satisfaction in drawing near to himseHl Ok thai my soul could modify the Lard, for these seasons of composure and resignation to his wiU.

Aug. 4. ^^ Spent the day in writing; enjoyed mudh freedom and assistance in my work; was in a composed and conb fcNTtable frame, most of the day ; and in the evening enjoyed some sweetness in prayer. Blessed be God, my spirits vrere yet up, and I was free from sinking damps; as 1 have been in general ever since I came from Elizabethtown last Owhal amercyis this!

Aug. 5. ^^ Towards ni^ht, preached at the funeral of one of my cimstians, from Is. Ivii. 2. He shall enter into peace, Ac* I was oppressed with the nervous head-ach, and considerably dejectea ; however, had a little freedom, some part of the time I was discoursing. Was extremely weary in the evening; but notwithstanding, enjoyed some liberty and cheerfulness of mind in prayer; and found the dejection that 1 feared, much removed, and my spirits considerably refreshed."

He continued in a very comfortable, cheerful frame of mind the next day^ with his heart enlarged in the service of God.

Aug. 7. " Ro ' '7 house, where I spent the last winter, in order to bring* ' aie things I needed for my Susquehannah journey; was refreshed to see that place, which God so marvellously visited with the showers of his grace. O how amazing did the power of God often appear there ! Bless the Lord, 0 my soul, and forget not all his benefts.'*'*

The next day, he speaks of liberty, enlargement, and sweetness of mind, in prayer and religious conversation.

Aug. 9. " In the afternoon, visited my people; set their at

fairs in order, as much as possible, and contrived for them the management of their worldly business; discoursed to them in a solemn manner, and concluded with prayer. Was composed and comfortable in the evening, and somewhat fervent in secret prayer; had some sense and view of the eternal world ; and found a serenity of mind. O that I could magnify the Lord for any freedom which he affords me in prayer!

Lord^s day^ Aug, 10. " Discoursed to my people, both parts of the day, from Acts iii. 19. Repent ye therefore^ &c. In discoursing of repentance^ in the forenoon, God helped me, so that my discourse was searching; some were in tears, both of the Indians and white people, and the word of God was attended with some power. In the intermission, I was engaged in discoursing to some in order to their baptism; as well as with one who had then lately met with some comfort, after spiritual trouble and distress. In the afternoon, was somewhat assisted again, though weak and weary. Afterwards baptized six persons ; three adults and three children. Was in a comfortable frame in the evening, and enjoyed some satisfaction in secret prayer. I scarce ever in my life felt myself so full of tenderness, as this day.

Aug, 11. " Being about to set out on a journey to the Sus-quehannah the next-day, with leave of Providence, I spent some time this day in prayer with my people, that God would bless and succeed my intended journey, that he would send forth his blessed Spirit with his word, and set up his kingdom among the poor Indians in the wilderness. While 1 was opening and applying part of the cxth and iid Psalms, the power of God seemed to descend on the assembly in some measure; and while I was making the first prayer, numbers were melted, and, found some affectionate enlargement of soul myself. Preached from Acts iv. 31. And when they had prayed^ the place was shaken^ &c. God helped me, and my interpreter also ; there was a shaking and melting among us; and divers, I doubt not, were in some measure ' filled with the Holy Ghost.' Afterwards, Mr. Macnight prayed; and I then opened the two last stanzas of the Ixxiid Psalm; at which ♦'*- jod was present with us; especially while I insisted up.. e promise of all nations blessing the great Redeemer. My &vu' was refreshed to think, that this day, this blessed glorious season, should surely come; and, I trust, numbers of my dear people were also refreshed. Afterwards prayed; had some freedom, but was almost spent; then walked out, and left my people to carry on religious exercises among themselves. They prayed repeatedly, and sung, whilel rested and refreshed myself. Afterwards, went to the meeting, prayed with, and dismissed the assembly. Blessed be God, this has been a day of grace. There were many tears and affectionate sobs among us this day. In

the evening, my soul was refreshed in prayer; enjoyed liberty at the throne of grace, in praying for my pecmle and firiendi, and the Church of God in general BUss the Lord^ O mi 9ml r .

The next day he set out on his journey towards the SiuHRie-^ hannah, and six of his Christian Indians with him, whom he bad chosen out of his con^gation, as those he judged moat fit to assist him in the business he was going upon* He took Us way throuffh Philadelphia; intending to go to the Suaquehan-nah river, mr down, where it is settled by the white people, below the country inhabited by the Indians; and so to thmi. Op the river to the Indian habitations. For alUiouch thk m much farther about, yet hereby he avoided the huge mountains, and hideous wilderness, that must be crossed in the nearer way; which in time past he found to be extremeily fliPVwfc and fatij^ing. He rode this week as far as Charlestown, about thirty miles westward of Philadelphia, where he arrived oil Friday: and in his way hither, was, for the most part, ia aeeiB-posed, comfortable state of mind.

Aug. 16. *^ [At Charlestown.] It being a day kept by die people of the place where I now was, as preparatory to the celebration of the Lord^s supper, I tarried; heard Mr. Trettt preach; and then preached mysel£ God gave me some good degreee of freedom, and helped me to discourse with warmdi and application, to the conscience. Afterwards, 1 was refr^h ed in spirit, though much tried; and spent the evening agreea* bly, having some freedom in prayer, as well as christian conversation.

Lord's day^ Aug, 17. " Enjoyed liberty, composure, and satisfaction, in the secret duties of the morning; had my heart somewhat enlarged in prayer for dear friends, as well as for myself. In the forenoon attended Mr. Treat's preaching, partook of the Lord's supper, five of my people also communicating in this holy ordinance ; I enjoyed some enlargement and outgoing of soul in this season. In t(ie afternoon preached from Ezek. xxxiii. 11. Say unto them^ as I live^ saith the Lard Oad^ &.C. Enjoyed not so much sensible assistance as the day before ; however, was helped to some fervency in addressing immortal souls. Was somewhat confounded in the evening, because I thought I had done little or nothing for God; yet enjoyed some refreshment of spirit in christian conversation "and prayer. Spent the evening, till near midnight, in religious exercises ; and found my bodily strength, which was much spent when I came from the public worship, something renewed before I went to bed.

Aug. 18. " Rode on my way towards Paxton, upon Sus-

quehannah river. Felt my spirits sink towards night, so that I had little comfort

Atiff. 19. " Rode forward still; and at night lodged by the side of the Susquehannah. Was weak and disordered both this and the preceding day, and found my spirits considerably damped, meeting with none that I thought godly people.

Aug. 20. " Having lain in a cold sweat all night, I coughed much bloody matter this morning, and was under great disorder of body, and not a little melancholy; but What gave me some encouragement was, I had a secret hope that I might speedily get a dismission from earth, and all its toils and sor^ rows. Rode this day to one Chamber's, upon the Susquehannah, and there lodged. Was much afflicted in the evening, with an ungodly crew, drinking, swearing, &c. O what a hell Would it be, to be numbered with the ungodly ! Enjoyed some agreeable conversation with a traveller, who seemed to have some relish of true religion*

Aug. 21. " Rode up the river about fifteen miles and there lodged, in a family which appeared quite destitute of God. Laboured to discourse with the man about the life of religion, but found him very artful in evading such conversation. O what a death it is to some, to hear of the things of God / Was out of my element; but was not so dejected as at some times.

Aug. 22. " Continued my course up the river; my people now being with me, who before were parted from me; travelled above all the English settlements; at ni^ht lodged in the open woods; and slept with more comfort than while among an ungodly company of white people. Enjoyed some liberty in secret prayer, this evening ; and was helped to remember dear friends, as well as my dear flock, and the church of God in general.

Aug. 23. " Arrived at the Indian town, called Shaumok-ing^ near night, was not so dejected as formerly; but yet somewhat exercised. Felt somewhat composed in the evening ; enjoyed some freedom in leaving my all with God. Through the great goodness of God, I enjoyed some liberty of mind; and was not distressed with a despondency, as frequently heretofore.

Lord'^s day, Aug. 24. " Towards noon, visited some of the Delawares, and discoursed with them about Christianity. In the afternoon discoursed to the King, and others, upon divine things; who seemed disposed to hear. Spent most of the day in these exercises. In the evening enjoyed some comfort and satisfaction ; and especially had some sweetness in secret prayer. This duty was made so agreeable to me, that I loved to walk abroad, and repeatedly engage in it. OA, how comfort-able is a little glimpf^e of God !

Vol. X. 4fi

Aug. 25. " Spent most of the day in writing. Sent out my people that were with me, to talk with the Indians, and contract a friendship and famiharity with them, that I might have a bet-ter opportunity of treating with them about Christianity. Some good seemed to be done by their visit this day, divers appeared willing to hearken to Christianity. My spirits were a little refreshed this evening ; and I found some liberty and satisfaction in prayer.

Aug. 26. '^ About noon, discoursed to a considerable number of Indians. God helped me, 1 am persuaded; for I was enabled to speak with much plainness, and some warmth and power; and the discourse had impression upon some, and made them appear very serious. I thought things now appeared as encouraging, as they did at Crossweeks. At the time of my first visit to those Indians, I was a little encouraged ; I pressed things with all my might; and called out my people, who were then present, to give in their testimony for God; which they did. Towards ni£[ht, was refreshed ; had a heart to pray for the setting up of God^s kingdom here; as well as for my dear congregation below, and my dear friends elsewhere.

Aug. 27. ^^ There having been a thick smoke in the house where I lodged all night before, whereby I was almost choak-ed, I was this morning distressed with pains in my bead and neck, and could have no rest. In the morning, the smoke was still the same; and a cold easterly storm gathering, I could neither live within doors, nor without, a long time together. I was pierced with the rawness of the air abroad, and in the house distressed with the smoke. I was this day very vapoury, and lived in great distress, and had not health enough to do any thing to any purpose.

Aug, 28. " In the afternoon, I was under great concern of mind about my work. Was visited. by some who desired to hear me preach; discoursed to them, in the afternoon, with some fervency, and laboured to persuade them to turn to God. Was full of concern for the kingdom of Christ, and found some enlargement of soul in prayer, both in secret and in my family. Scarce ever saw more clearly, than this day, that it is God's work to convert souls, and especially poor Heathens. I knew, I could not touch them ; I saw I could only speak to dry bones^ but could give them no sense of what I said. My eyes were up to God for help : I could say the ivork was his ; and if done, the glori/ would be his.

Aug. 29. " Felt the same concern of mind, as the day before. Enjoyed some freedom in prayer, and a satisfaction to leave all with God. Travelled to the Delawares, found few at home, felt poorly: but was able to spend some time alone in

reading God's word and in prayer, and enjoyed some sweetness in these exercises. In the evening, was assisted repeated^* ]y in prayer, and found some comfort in coming to the throne of grace.

Aug. 30. " Spent the forenoon in visiting a trader^ who came down the river sick ; and who appeared as ignorant as any Indian. In the afternoon spent some time in reading, writing, and prayer.

Lord*s day, Aug. 31. " Spent much time, in the morning, in secret duties; found a weight upon my spirits, and could not but cry to God with concern and engagement of soul. Spent some time also in reading and expounding God's word to my dear family which was with me, as well as in singing and prayer with them. Afterwards spake the word of God, to some few of the Susquehannah Indians. In the afternoon, felt very weak and feeble. Near night, was somewhat refreshed in mind, with some views of things relating to my great work. O how heavy is my work, when faith cannot take hold of an almighty arm, for the performance of it! Many times have I been ready to sink in this case. Blessed be God that I map repair to a full fountain ?

Sept. 1. " Set out on a journey towards a place called The Chreat Island, about fifty miles distant from Shaumoking, in the north-western branch of the Susquehannah. Travelled some part of the way, and at night lodged in the woods. Was exceedingly feeble this day, and sweat much the night following,

Sept. 2. " Rode forward; but no faster than my people went on foot. Was very weak, on this as well as the preceding days. I was so feeble and faint, that I feared it would kill me to lie out in the open air; and some of our company being parted from us, so that we had now no axe with us, I had no way but to climb into a young pine tree, and with my knife to lop the branches, and so made a shelter from the dew. But the evening being cloudy, and very likely for rain, I was still under fears of being extremely exposed : sweat much in the night, so that my linen was almost wringing wet all night. I scarcely ever was more weak and weary, than this evening, when 1 was able to sit up at all. This was a melancholy situation I was in; but I endeavoured to quiet myself with considerations of the possibility of my being in much worse circumstances, among enemies, (&c.

Sept. 3. " Rode to the Delaware-town ; found divers drinking and drunken. Discoursed with some of the Indians about Christianity ; observed my Interpreter much engaged and assisted in his work; some few persons seemed to hear with great earnestness and engagement of soul. About noon, rode to a small town of Shauwaunoes, about eight miles distant; spent an hour or two there, and returned to the Delaware-town, and

lodged there. Was scarce ever more confounded with a sense of my own unfruitfulness and unfitness for my work, than now. O what a dead, heartless, barren, unprofitable wretch did I now see myself to be! My spirits were so low, and my bodily strength so wasted, that I could do nothing at all. At length, being much overdone, lay down on a buffalo-skin ; but sweat much the whole night.

Sept, 4. " Discoursed with the Indians, in the morning, about Christianity; my Interpreter, afterwards, carrying on the discourse lo a considerable length. Some few appeared well disposed, and somewhat affected. Left this place, and returned towards Shaumoking; and at night lodged in the place where I lodged the Monday night before: was in very uncomfortable circumstances in the evening, my people being belated, and not coming to me till past ten at night; so that I had no fire to dress any victuals, or to keep me warm, or keep oflF wild beasts; and I was scarce ever more weak and worn out in all my life. However, I lay down and slept before my people came up, expecting nothing else but to spend the whole night alone, and without fire.

Sept, 5. " Was exceeding weak, so that I could sc^arcely ride ; it seemed sometimes as if I must fall off from my horse, and lie in the open woods: however, got to Shaumoking, towards night: felt somewhat of a spirit of thankfulness, that God had so far returned me: was refreshed to see one of my Christians, whom I left here in my late excursion.

Sept, 6. " Spent the day in a very weak state ; coughing and spitting blood, and having liltlc appetite for any food I had with me; was able to do very little, except discourse a while of divine things to my own people, and to some few I met with. Had, by this time, very little life or heart to speak for God, through feebleness of body, and flatness of spirits. Was scarcely ever more ashamed and confounded in myself, than now. I was sensible, that there were numbers of God's people, who knew I was then out upon a design, or at least the pretence, of doing something for God, and in his cause, among the poor Indians ; and they were ready to suppose, that I was fervent in spirit ; but O the heartless frame of mind that I felt, filled me with confusion ! O methought if God's people knew me, as God knows, they would not think so highly of my zeal and resolution for God, as perhaps now they do! I could not but desire they should see how heartless and irresolute I was, that they might be undeceived, and ' not think of me above what they ought to think.' And yet 1 thought, if they saw the utmost of my flatness and unfaithfulness, the smallness of my courage and resolution for God, they would be ready to shut me out of their doors, as unworthy of the company or friendship of Christians.

hordes day^ Sept. 7. " Was much in the same weak state of body, and afflicted frame of mind, as in the preceding day: my soul was grieved, and mourned that I could do nothing for God» Read and expounded some part of God's word to my own dear family, and spent some time in prayer with them; discoursed also a little to the Pagans ; but spent the Sabbath with a little comfort.

Sept. 8. " Spent the forenoon among the Indians ; in the afternoon, left Shaumoking, and returned down the river, a few miles. Had proposed to have tarried a considerable time lon-

fer among the Indians upon the Susquehannah; but was hin-ered from pursuing my purpose by the sickness that prevailed there, the weakly circumstances of my own people that were with me, and especially my own extraordinary weakness, having been exercised with great nocturnal sweats, and a coughing up of blood, almost the whole of the journey. I was a great part of the time so feeble and faint, that it seemed as though I never should be able to reach home; and at the same time very destitute of the comforts, and even 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 some power, and divine truths made some impressions on divers who heard me; so that several, both men and women; old and young, seemed to cleave to iis^ and be well disposed towards Christianity ; but others mocked and shouted, which damped those who before seemed friendly, at least some of them. Yet God, at times, was evidently present, assisting me, my interpreter, and other dear friends who were with me. God ^ave, sometimes, a good degree of freedom in prayer for the mgathering of souls there; and I could not but entertain a strong hope, that the journey should not be wholly fruitless. Whether the issue of it would be the setting up of Christ's kingdom there^ or only the drawing of some few persons down to my congregation in New Jersey ; or whether they were now only being prepared for some further attempts, that might be made among them, I did not determine ; but I was persuaded, the journey would not be lost. Blessed he God, that I had any encouragement and hope.

Sept, 9. " Rode down the river, near thirty miles. Was extremely weak, much fatigued, and wet with a thunder storm. ^ Discoursed with some warmth and closeness to some poor ignorant souls, on the life and power of religion ; what were, and what were not th^ evidences of it. They seemed much astonished, when they saw my Indians ask a blessing, and give thanks, at dinner -, concluding that a very high evidence of grace in them ; but were astonished, when 1 insisted, that neither that, nor yet secret prayer, was any sure evidence of grace. O the ignorance of the world! How are some empty

outward forms^ that may all be entirely selfish^ mistaken for true religion, infallible evidences of it. The Lord pity a deluded world !

Sepi, 10. " Rode near twenty miles homeward. Was much solicited to preach, but was utterly unable, through bodily weakness. Was extremely overdone with the heat and showers this day, and coughed up a considerable quantity of blood.

Sept, 11. " Rode homeward ; but was very weak, and sometimes scarcely able to ride. Had a very importunate invitation to preach at a meetinff-house I came by, the people being then gathering ; but could not, by reason of weakness. Was resigned and composed under my weakness; but was much exercised with concern for my companions in travel, whom 1 had left with much regret, some lame, and some sick.

Sept, 12. ^^ Rode about fifty miles ; and came, just at night, to a christian friend's house, about twenty-five miles westward from Philadelphia. Was courteously received, and kindly entertained, and found myself much refreshed in the midst of my weakness and fatigues.

Sept. 13. " Was still agreeably entertained with christian friendship, and all things necessary for my weak circumstances. In the afternoon, heard Mr. Treat preach; and was refi'eshed in conversation with him, in the evening.

Lord*s day^ Sept. 14. " At the desire of Mr. Treat and the people, I preached both parts of the day, (but short,) from Luke xiv. 23. And the Lord said unto the servant^ go out, &c. God gave me some freedom and warmth in my discourse ; and I trust, helped me in some measure to labour in singleness of heart. Was much tired in the evening, but was comforted with the most tender treatment 1 ever met with in my life. My mind, through the whole of this day, was exceeding calm ; and I coul(i ask for nothing in prayer, with any encouragement of soul, but that ' the will of God might be done.'

Sept. 15. " Spent the whole day, in concert with Mr. Treat, in endeavours to compose a difference, subsisting between certain persons in the congregation where we now were : and there seemed to be a blessing on our endeavours. In the evening, baj)tized a child ; was in a calm, composed frame ; and enjoyed, I trust, a spiritual sense of divine things, while administering the ordinance. Afterwards, spent the time in religious conversation, till late in the night. This was indeed a pleasant, agreeable evening.

Sept, 16. ''Continued still at my friend's house, about twenty-five miles westward of Philadelphia. Was very weak, unable to perform any business, and scarcely able to sit up.

Sept. 17. " Rode into Philadelphia. Still very weak, and my

cough and spitting of blood continued. Enjoyed some agreeable conversation with friends, but wanted more spirituality.

Sept. 18. " Went from Philadelphia to Mr..Treat's; was agreeably entertained on the road ; and was in a sweet, composed frame, in the evening.

Sept. 19. *' Rode from Mr. Treat's to Mr. Stockston's, at Princeton: was extremely weak, but kindly received and entertained. Spent the evening with some degree of satisfaction.

Sept. 20. " -A/^'v^^ among my own people, near Cranberry, just at night: found them praying together; went in, and gave them some account of God's dealings with me and my companions in the journey; which seemed affecting to them. 1 then prayed with tbem, and thought the divine presence was amongst us; divers were melted into tears, and seemed to have a sense of divine things. Being very weak, I was obliged soon to repair to my lodgings, and felt much worn out, in the evening. Thus God has carried me through the fatigues and perils of another journey to the Susquehannah, and returned me again in safety, though under a great degree of bodily indisposition. Oh that my soul were truly thankful for renewed instances of mercy! Many hardships and distresses I endured in this journey, but the Lord supported me under them all."

Hitherto Brainerd had kept a constant diary, giving an account of what passed from day to day, with very little interruption ; but henceforward his diary is very much interrupted by his illness; under which he was often brought so low, as either not to be capable of writing, or not well able to bear the burden of a care so constant, as was requisite, to recollect^ every evening, what had passed in the day, and digest it, and set down an orderly account of it in writing. However, his duMry was not wholly neglected; but he took care, from time to time, to take some notice in it of the most material things concerning himself and the state of his mind, even till within a few days of his death, as the reader will see afterwards.*

Lord's day, Sept. 21, 1746. " I was so weak that I could

* Mr. Shepard, in his select eases resolved^ und'^rthe first case sayg as follows : —" I have lately known one, very able, wise and godly, put upon the rack, by him that, envying; God''8 people's peace, knows how to change himsell into an angd of light; for it being his usual course, in (he time of his health, to make a diary of his hourly life, and finding much benefit by it, he was in conscience pressed, by the power and delusion of Satan^ to make and take the same daily survey of his life in the time of his sickness —by means of which he spent his enfeebled 'spirits,cast on fuel to fire his sickness. Had not a friend of his convinced him of his erroneous conscience misleading him at that time, he had murdered his body, out of conscience to save his soul, and to preserve his grace. And do you think tliese were the motions of God's Spirit, which like those locusts, Rev. ix. 9. 10. had faces like men, but had tails like scorjpions, and stings in their tails ?"

not preach, nor pretrnd to ride over to my people in the fore-^ noon. In the afternoon rode out; sat in my chair^ and discoursed to my people from Rom. xiv. 7, 8. For none of us liveth to himself &c. I was strengthened and helped in my discourse; and there appeared something agreeable in the as-sembly« I returned to my lodgings extremely tired, but thankful, that I had been enabled to speak a word to my poor people, from whom I had been so long absent. Was enabled to sleep very little this night, through weariness and pain. O how blessed should I be, if the little I do were all jlone with right views! Oh that,' whether I live, I might live to the Lord ; or w^hether I die, I might die unto the Lord; that, whether livuig or dying, I might be the Lord's!'

Sept. 27. " Spent this day, as well as the whote week past, under a great degree of bodily weakness, exercised with a violent cough, and a considerable fever. I had no appetite far any kind of food; and frequently brought up what I ate, as soon as it was down; oftentimes had little rest in my bed, owing to pains in my breast and back. I was able, however, to ride over to my people, about two miles, every day, and take some care of those who were then at work upon a small house for me to reside in among the Indians.* I was sometimes scarce able to walk, and never able to sit up the whole day, through the week. Was calm and composed, and but little exercised with melancholy, as in former seasons of weakness. Whether I should ever recover or no, seemed very doubtful; but this was many times a comfort to me, that life and death did not depend upon my choice. I was pleased to think, that He who is infinitely wise, had the determination of this matter; and that I had no trouble to consider and weigh things upon all sides, in order to make the choice, whether I should live or die. Thus my time was consumed ; 1 had little strength to pray, none to write or read, and scarce any to meditate; but through divine goodness, I could with great composure look death in the face, and frequently with sensible joy. O how blessed it is, to be hahitualh/ prepared for death ! The Lord grant, that I may be actually ready also !

Lord''s day^ Sept. 18. " Rode to my people; and, though under much weakness, attempted to preach from 2 Cor. xiii. 5. Examine yourselves^ vSlc. Discoursed about half an hour ; at which season divine power seemed to attend the word: but being extremely weak, I was obliged to desist; and after a turn of faintness, with much difficulty rode to my lodgings; where betaking myself to my bed, I lay in a burning fever, and almost delirious, for several hours ; till towards morning, my

* This was ihe fourth house he built for his residence among the Indians. Beside that at Kaunaumeekf and that at the Forks of Deh.nvare, and another at ^rossweeksungy he built one now at Crajiberr?/.

fever went oiF with a violent sweat. I have often been feverish, and unable to rest quietly after preaching; but this was the most severe, distressing turn, that ever preaching brought upon me. Yet I felt perfectly at rest in my own mind, because I had made my utmost attempts to speak for God, and knew I could do no more.

Sept. 30. " Yesterday and to-day, was in the same weak state, or rather weaker than in days past; was scarce able to sit up half the day. Was in a composed frame of mind, remarkably free from dejection and melancholy; as God has been pleased, in a great measure, to deliver me from these unhappy glooms, in the general course of my present weakness hitherto, and also from a peevish froward spirit. And O how great a mercy is this ! Oh that I might always be perfectly quiet in seasons of greatest weakness, although nature should sink and fail! Oh that I may always be able with the utmost sincerity to say, * Lord, not my will, but thine be done !' This, through

E^ce, I can say at present, with regard to life or death,' The ord do with me as seems good in his sight ;^ that whether I live or die, I may glorify Him^ who is ' worthy to receive blessing, and honour, and dominion for ever. Amen.'

Oct 4. " Spent the former part of this week under a great degree of infirmity and disorder, as I had done several weeks before ; was able, however, to ride a little every day, although unable to sit up half the day, till Thursday. Took some care daily of some persons at work upon my house. On Friday afternoon, found myself wonderfully revived and strengthened. Having some time before given notice to my people, and those of them at the Forks of Delaware in particular, that I designed, with the leave of Providence, 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 Cor. xiii. 5; finishing what I proposed to offer upon the subject the Sabbath before. The sermon was blessed of God to the stirring up religious affection, and a spirit of devotion, in the people of God; and to greatly affecting one who had backslidden from God, which caused him to judge and condemn himself. I was surprisingly strengthened in my work, while I was speaking ; but was obliged immediately after to repair to bed, being now removed into my own bouse among the Indians ; which gave me such speedy relief and refreshment, as I could not well have lived without. Spent some time on Friday night in conversing with my people about divine things, as I lay upon my bed; and found my soul refreshed, though my body was weak. This being Saturday, I discoursed particularly with divers of the communicants; and this afternoon preached from Zech. xii. 10. And I will pour on the house of David, <fcc. There seemed to be a tender melting:, and hearty mourn-VoL. X. 47

ing for sin, in numbers in the congregation. My soul was in t comfortable fristme, and 1 enjoyed freedom and assistance is public service; was myself, as well as most of the congregation, much affected with the humble confession, and apparait broken-heartedness of the forementioned backslider; and could not but rejoice, that God had given him such a sense of his sin and unworthiness. Was extremely tired in the evening; but lay on my bed, and discoursed to my people.

hordes day^ Oct. 5. ^^ Was still verv weak; and in the morning considerably afraid T should not be able to go throogh the work of the day; having much to do, both in private and public. Discoursed before the administration oi the sacrt* ment, from John i. 29. ^ Behold the Lamb of God, that taketk away the sins of the world.^ Where I considered, L In whtt respects Christ is called the Lamb of God ; and observed that he is so called, (1.) From the purity and innocemcy of his nsi-ture. (2.) From his meekness e^na patience under aufferingk (3.) From his being that atonement which was pointed out in the sacrifice of the lambs, and in particular by the paschd Iamb. ll. Considered how and in what sense he *• takes awaf the sin of the world f and observed, that the means and manner, in and by which he takes away the sins of men, was his * giving himself for them,^ doing ipd suffering id their rocMD and stead, &c. And he is said to take awav the sin of lis worlds not because all the world shall actually be redeemed from sin by him ; but because, (I.) He has done and suffered sufficient to answer for the sins of the world, and so to redeem all mankind. (2.) He actually does take away the sins of the elect world. And, IH. Considered how we are to behold him, in order to have our sins taken away. (1.) Not with owtbodUy eyes. Nor, (2.) By imagining him on the cross, &c. But by a spiritual view of his glory and goodness, engaging the soul to rely on him, &,c.—The divine presence attended this discourse; and the assembly was considerably melted with divine truths. After sermon, baptized two persons. Then administered the Lord's supper to near forty communicants, of the Indians, besides divers dear Christians of the white people. It seemed to be a season of divine power and grace ; and numbers seemed to rejoice in God. O the sweet union and harmony then appearing among the religious people ! My soul was refreshed, and my religious friends, of the white people, with me. After the sacrament, could scarcely get home, though it was not more than twenty roods; but was supported and led by my friends, and laid on my bed ; where I lay in pain till some time in the evening; and then was able to sit up and discourse with friends. O 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 mid-

night, praying and singing prases to God, in one or other of their houses. My soul was refreshed, though my body was weak."

This week, in two days, though in a very low state, he went to Elizabethtown, to attend the meeting of the Synod there : but was disappointed by its removal to New-York. He continued in a very composed, comfortable frame of mind.

OcU 11. "Towards night was seized with an ague, which was followed with a hard fever, and considerable pain ; was treated with great kindness; and was ashamed to see so much concern about so unworthy a creature, as I knew myself to be. Was in a comfortable frame of mind, wholly submissive, with regard to life or death It was indeed a peculiar satisfaction to me, to think, that it was not my concern or business to determine whether J should live or die. I likewise felt peculiarly satisfied, while under this uncommon degree of disorder; being now fully convinced of my being really weak, and unable to perform my work. Whereas at other times my mind was perplexed with fears, that I was a misimprover of time, by conceiting I was sick, when I was not in reality so. O how precious is time ! And how guilty it makes me feel, when 1 think that I have trifled away and misimproved it, or neglected to fill up each part of it with duty, to the utmost of my ability and capacity!

Lord'^s day^ Oct. 12. " Was scarcely able to sit up in the forenoon: in the afternoon, attended public worship, and was in a composed, comfortable frame.

Lord'^s day^ Oct. 19. " Was scarcely able to do any thing at all in the week past, except that on Thursday I rode out about four miles; at which time I took cold. As I was able to do little or nothing, so I enjoved not much spirituality, or lively religious affection: though at some times I longed much to be more fruitful and full of heavenly affection; and was grieved to gee the hours slide away, while I could do nothing for God. Was able this week to attend public worship. Was composed and comfortable, willing either to die or live; but found it hard to be reconciled to the thoughts of living useless. Oh that I might never live to be a burden to God's creation ; but that I might be allowed to repair home^ when my sojourning work is done!"

This week, he went back to his Indians at Cranberry, to take some care of their spiritual and temporal concerns ; and was much spent with riding; though he rode but a little way in a dav.

Oct. 23. *^ Went to my own house, and set tbingB iii ofder. Was very weak, and somewhat melancholy; laboured to do something, but had no strength ; and was forced to lie down on my bed, very solitary.

Oct. 24. " Spent the day in overseeing and directuiff my people, about mending their fence, and securing their \^at. Found that all their concerns of a secular nature depended upon me. Was somewhat refreshed in the evening, having been able to do something valuable in the day time. O how it pains me, to see time pass away, when I can do nothing to any purpose!

Oct. 25. '' Visited some of my people; spent some time in writing, and felt much better in body, than usual. When it was near night, I felt so well, that I had thoughts of expounding ; but in the evening was much disordered again, and spent the night in coughing and spittine blood.

Lord's day^ Oct. 26. ^^ In the morning was exceeding^ weak: spent the day, till near ni^ht, in pain, to see my poor people wandering cls sheep not haxAng a shepherd^ waiting and hopmg to see me able to preach to them before niffht - It could not but distress me, to see them in this case, and to find myself unable to attempt any thing for their spiritutd benefit— But towards night, finding myself a little better, I called them together to my house, and sat down, and read and expoondsd Matth. V. I—16. This discourse, though delivered m much weakness, was attended with power to many of the hearers; especially what was spoken upon the last of these verses; where I insisted on the infinite wrong done to religion, by having our light beco.me darkness^ instead of shining before men. Many in the congregation were now deeply affected with a sense of their deficiency with respect to spiritual conversation, which might recommend religion to others, and a spirit of concern and watchfulness seemed to be excited in them. One, in particular, who had fallen in the sin of drunkenness some time before, was now deeply convinced of his sin, and the great dishonour done to religion by his misconduct, and discovered a great degree of grief and concern on that account. My soul was refreshed to see this. And though I had no strength to speak so much as I would have done, but was obliged to lie down on the bed ; yet I rejoiced to see such an humble melting in the congregation ; and that divine truths, though faintly delivered, were attended with so much efficacy upon the auditory.

Oct. 27. " Spent the day in overseeing and directing the Indians about mending the fence round their wheat: was able to walk with them, and contrive their business, all the forenoon. In the afternoon, was visited by two dear friends, and spent some time in conversation with them. Towards night, 1

was able to walk out, and take care of the fndians again. In the evening, eaioyed a very peaceful frame.

Oct. 28. " Rode to Princeton, in a very weak state; had such a violent fever, by the way, that I was forced to alight at a friend's house, and lie down for some time. Near night, was visited by Mr. Treat, Mr. Beaty, and his wife, and .another friend. My spirits were refreshed to see them ; but I was surprised, and even ashamed, that they had taken so much pains as to ride thirty or forty miles to see me. Was able to sit up most of the evening ; and spent the time in a very comfortable manner with my friends.

Oct. 29. " Rode about ten miles with my friends who came yesterday to see me; and then parted with them all but one, who stayed on purpose to keep me company, and cheer my spirits. Was extremely weak, and very feverish, especially towards night; but enjoyed comfort and satisfaction.

Oct. 30. " Rode three or four miles, to visit Mr. Wales; spent some time, in an agreeable manner, in conversation; and though extremely weak, enjoyed a comfortable, composed frame of mind.

Oct. 31. " Spent the day among friends, in a comfortable frame of mind, though exceedingly weak, and under a considerable fever.

Nov. I. " Took leave of friends, after having spent the forenoon with them, and returned home to my own house. Was much disordered in the evening, and oppressed with my cough; which has now been constant for a long time, with a hard pain in my breast, and fever.

Lord^s day^ Nov. 2. *' Was unable to preach, and scarcely able to sit up, the whole day. Was grieved, and almost sunk, to see my poor people destitute of the means of grace ; especially as they could not read, and so were under great disadvantages for spending the Sabbath comfortably. O methought, I could be contented to be sick, if my poor flock had a faithful pastor to feed them with spiritual knowledge! A view of their want of this was more afflictive to me, than all my bodily illness.

Nov. 3. " Being now in so weak and low a state, that I was utterly incapable of performing my work, and having little hope of recovery, unless by much riding, I thought it my duty to take a long journey into New England, and to divert myself among my friends, whom I had not now seen for a long time. Accordingly I took leave of my congregation this day. Before I left my people, I visited them all m their respective houses, and discoursed to each one, as I thought most proper and suitable for their circumstances, and found great freedom and assistance in so doing. I scarcely left one house but some

were in tears ; and many were not only affected with my being about to leave them, but with the solemn addresses I made them upon divine things; for 1 was helped to be fervent in spirit^ while I discoursed to them.—When I had thus gone through my congregation, which took me most of the day, and had taken leave of them, and of the school, i left home, and rode about two miles, to the house where I lived in the summer

fast, and there lodged. Was refreshed, this evening, because had left my congregation so well-disposed, and affected, an had been so much assisted in making my farewell addresse to them.

Nov. 4. " Rode to Woodbridge, and lodged with Mr. Pier-son ; continuing still in a very weak state.

Nov, 5. ''*' Rode to Elizabethtown; intending, as soon ks possible, to prosecute my journey into New England. But was, m an hour or two after my arrival, taken much worse.

'* After this, for near a week, I was confined to my chamber, and most of the time to my bed : and then so far revived as to be able to walk about the house; but was still confined within doors.

" In the beginning of this extraordinary turn of disorder, after my coming to Elizabethtown, I was enabled through mercy to maintain a calm, composed, and patient spirit, as I had been before from the beginning of my weakness. After I had been in Elizabethtown 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, 1 was enabled to recall and recount over the mercies of God, in such a manner as greatly affected me, and filled me with thankfulness and praise. Especially my soul praised God for his work of grace among the Indians, and the enlargement of his dear kingdom. My soul blessed God for what he is in himself, and adored him, that he ever would display himself to creatures. I rejoiced that he was God, and longed that all should know it, and feel it, and rejoice in it. ' Lord, glorify thyself,' was the desire and cry of my soul. O that all people might love and and praise the blessed God ; that he might have all possible honour and glory from the intelligent world !

" After this comfortable thanksgiving season, I frequently enjoyed freedom, enlargement, and engagedness of soul in prayer, and was enabled to intercede with God for my dear congregation, very often for every family, and every person, in particular. It was often a great comfort to me, that I could pray heartily to God for those, to whom I could not speak, and whom I was not allowed to see. But at other times, my spirits were so flat and low, and my bodily vigour so much wasted, that I had scarce any affections at all."

During his confinement at Elizabethtown, Brainerd wrote the following letter to his youngest brother.

To his brother Isi'ael^ then a Student at Yale College^ JNew Haven.

" Elizabethtown^ New Jersey^ Nov. 24, 1746.

"dear brother,

" I had determined to make you and my other friends in New England a visit, this fall; partly from an earnest desire I had to see you and them, and partly with a view to the recovery of my health ; which has, for more than three months past, been much impaired. In order to prosecute this design, I set out from my own people about three weeks ago, and came as far as to this place: where, my disorder greatly increasing, I have been obliged to keep house ever since, until the day before yesterday; when I was able to ride about half a mile, but found myself much tired with the journey. I have now no hopes of prosecuting my journey into New England this winter ; my present state of health will by no means admit of it. Although I am, through divine goodness, much better than I was some days ago ; yet I have not strength now to ride more than ten miles a day, if the season were warm, and fit for me to travel in. My disorder has been attended with several symptoms of consumption ; and I have been at times apprehensive, that my great change was at hand: yet blessed be God, I have never been affrighted; but, on the contrary, at times much delighted with a view of its approach. O the blessedness of being delivered from the clogs of flesh and sense, from a body of sin and spiritual death ! O the unspeakable sweetness of being translated into a state of complete purity and perfection! believe me, my brother, a lively view and hope of these things, will make the king of terrors himself appear agreeable. Deai* brother, let me entreat you, to keep eternity in your view, and behave yourself as becomes one that must shortly 'give an account of things done in the body.' That God may be your God, and prepare you for bis service here, and his kingdom of glory hereafter, is the desire and daily prayer of

" Your affectionate loving brother,

" DAVID BRAINERD."

" In December^ I had revived so far as to be able to walk abroad, and visit my friends, and seemed to be on the gaining hand with regard to my health, in the main, until Lord's day, December 21. At which time I went to the public worship, and it being sacrament day, I laboured much at the Lord's ta-

ble to bring forth a certain corruption, and have it <2am, as being an enemy to God and my own soul; and could not but hope, that I had gained some strength against this, as well as other corruptions; and felt some brokenness of heart for mj sin.

^ After this, having perhaps taken some cold, I began to decline as to bodily health; and continued to do so, till the latter end of January, 1747. Having a violent cough, a considerable fever, an asthmatic disorder, and no appetite for any manner of food, nor bby power of digestion, I was reduced to so low a state, that my friends, I believe, generally despaired of my life;, and sonhe of them, for some time together, thought I codd scarce live a day. At this time, I could think of nothing, with anjr application of mind, and seemed to be in a great measure void orall affection, and was exercised with great temptatioiis; but yet was not, ordinarily, afraid of death.

Lord*s day^ Feb. 1. ^ Though in a very weak and low stated I enjoyed a considerable decree of comfort and sweetness in divine things; and was enabled to plead and use argumenti with God in prayer, I think, with a childJike spirit That passage of scripture occurred to my mind, and g^ve me great assistance, * If ye, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father jgife the holy Spuit to them ttiat ask him V This text I was he^ed to plead, and insist upon; and saw the divine faithfiilness en^ eaged for dealine with me better than any earthly pia^nt can do with his child. This season so refreshed my soul, that^my body seemed also to be a gainer by it. From this time, I began gradually to amend. As J recovered some strength, vigour, and spirit, I found at times some freedom and life in the exercises of devotion, and some longings afler spirituality and a life of usefulness to the interests of the ^reat Redeemer. At other times, I was awfully barren and lifeless, and out of frame for the things of God; so that I was ready often to cry out, ' Oh that it were with me as in months past!' Oh that God had taken me away in the midst of my usefulness, with a sudden stroke, that I might not have been under a necessity of trifling away time in diversions! Oh that I had never lived to spend so much precious time; in so poor a manner, and to so little purpose ! Thus 1 often reflected, was grieved, ashamed, and even confounded, sunk and discouraged.

Feb, 24. " I was able to ride as far as Newark, (having been confined within Elizabethtown almost four months,) and the next day returned to Elizabethtown. My spirits were somewhat refreshed with the ride, though my body was weary.

Feb. 28. " Was visited by an Indian of my own congregation, who brought me letters, and good news of the sober and good behaviour of my people in general. This refreshed my

MEMOIRS OP BRAINERD. Sfjl

soul. I could not but soon retire, and bless God for his goodness ; and found, I trust, a truly thankful frame of spirit, that God seemed to be building up that congregation for himself.

March 4. " I met with reproof from a friend, which, although I thought I did not deserve it from him, yet was, I trust, blessed of God to make me more tenderly afraid of sin, more jealous over myself, and more concerned to keep both heart and life pure and unblameable. It likewise caused me to reflect on my past deadness and wantof spirituahty, and to abhor myself, and look on myself as most unworthy. This frame of mind continued the next day; and for several days after, I grieved to think, that in my necessary diversions 1 had not maintained more seriousness, solemnity, heavenly affection, and conversation. Thus my spirits were often depressed and sunk; and yet, I trust, that reproof was made to be beneficial to me.

" March 11 being kept in Elizabethtown as a day of fasting and prayer, I was able to attend public worship; which was the first time I had been able so to do since December 21. O, how much weakness and distress did God carry me through in this space of time ! But hftving obtained help from Atwi, I yet live. Oh that I could live more to his glory !

hordes day^ March 15. " Was able again to attend public worship, and felt some earnest desires of being restored to the ministerial work : felt, I think, some spirit and life, to speak for God.

March 18. " Rode out with a design to visit my people; and the next day arrived among them: but was under great dejection in my journey.

" On Friday morning, I rose early, walked about among my people, and inquired into their state and concerns; and found an additional weight and burden on my spirits^ upon hearing some things disagreeable. 1 endeavoured to go to God with my distresses, and made some kind of lamentable complaint ; and in a broken manner spread my difficulties before God : but notwithstanding, my mind continued very gloomy. About ten o'clock I called my people together, and after having explained and sung a psalm, 1 prayed with them. There was a considerable deal of affection among them; I doubt not^ in some instances, that which was more than merely natural."

This was the last interview which he ever had with his people. Vol. X. 48

■nil*

CHAPTER XII.

JFVoni the terminaiitm of his Missionary Labours to his Death,

On Friday, March 20, 1747, about 11 A. M. he left Croh berry ; little suspecting that he saw it and his beloYed people for we last time. On Saturday, he came to Elizabethtown, enfeebled in health, and oppressed with melancholy. Here he continued a considerable time, labouring under the raiBges cf disease, and suiTering from extreme depression of spirit.

March 28. ^^ Was taken this morning with violent griping pains. These pains were extreme, and constant fin* aev^u nours; so that it seemed impossible for me, without a miracle, to live twenty-four hours in such distress. I lav coniSned to mj bed the whole day, and in distressing pain, all the former part of it; but it pleased God to bless means for the abatement id my distress. Was exceedingly weakened by this pain, and oon-tinned so for several days following; being exercised with a fe-. ver, cough, and nocturnal sweats. In this distressed case, so long as mv head was free of vapoury confusions, death speared agreeaole to me. I looked on it as the end of toils, and an entrance into a place ^ where the weary are at rest ;^ and think I had some relish for the entertainments of the heavenly state ; so that by these I was allured and drawn, as well as driven by the fatigues of life. O, how happy it is, to be drawn by desires of a state of perfect holiness!

April 4. " Was sunk and dejected, very restless and uneasy, by reason of the misimprovement of time; and yet knew not what to do. I longed to spend time in fasting and prayer, that I might be delivered from indolence and coldness in the things of God; but, alas, I had not bodily strength for these exercises! O, how blessed a thing it is to enjoy peace of conscience ! but how dreadful is a want of inward peace and composure of soul! It is impossible, I find, to enjoy this happiness without redeeming time^ and maintaining a spiritual frame of mind.

Lard's day^ April 5. " It grieved me to find myself so inconceivably barren. My soul thirsted for grace; but, alas, how far was I from obtaining what appeared to nie so exceeding excellent ! I was ready to despair of ever being a holy creature, and yet my soul was desirous oifollowing hard after God; but never did f see myself so far from having apprehended^ or being

already perfect^ as at this time. The Lord's supper being this day administered, I attended the ordinance : and though I saw in myself a dreadful emptiness, and want of grace, and saw myself as it were at an infinite distance from that purity which becomes the gospel, yet at the communion, especially at the distribution of the bread, I enjoyed some warmth of affection, and felt a lender love to the brethren ; and, I think, to the glorious Redeemer, ih^ first bom among them. I endeavoured then to bring forth mine and his enemies^ and slay them before him ; and found great freedom in begging deliverance from this spiritual death, as well as in asking divine favours for my friends and congregation, and the church of Christ in general.

April 7. " In the afternoon rode to Newark, to marry the Rev. Mr. Dickinson ;* and in the evening, performed rhat service. Afterwards, rode home to Elizabethtown, in a pleasant frame, full of composure and sweetness.

April 9. " Attended the ordination of Mr. Tucker,t and afterwards the examination of Mr. Smith : was in a comfortable frame of mind this day, and felt my heart, I think, sometimes in a spiritual frame.

April 10. " Spent the forenoon in Presbyterial business. In the afternoon, rode to Elizabethtown ; found my brother John there :J spent some time in conversation with him ; but was extremely weak and outdone, my spirits considerably sunk, and my mind dejected.

April 13. " Assisted in exa^mining my brother. In the eve-' ning, was in a solemn, devout frame ; but was much overdone and oppressed with a violent head-ach.

April 14. " Was able to do little or nothing: spent some time with Mr. Byram and other friends. This day my brother went to my people.

April 15. " Found some freedom at the throne of grace several times this day. In the afternoon, was very weak, and

* The late learned and very excellent Mr. Jonathan Dickinson, pastor of a church in Elizabethtown, president of the coUeg^e of New-Jersey, and one of the correspondents of the honourable society in Scotland for propagating christian knowledge. He had a great esteem for Brainsrd ; kindly entertained him in his house during his sickness the winter past; and after a short illness, died the ensuing October, two days before Brainerd.

t A worthy pious young gentleman; who lived in the ministry but a very short time: he died at Stratfield, in Connecticut, the December following his ordination, a little while after Brainerd's death at Northampton. He was taken ill on a journey, returning from a visit to his friends at Milton in Massachusetts, which, as I take it, was his native place, and Harvard College the place of his education.

t This brother of his had been sent for by the correspondents^ to take care of, and instruct Brainerd's congregation of Indians; he being obliged by his illness to be absent from them. He continued to take care of them till Brainerd's death: and since his death, has been ordained his successor in his mission, and to the charge of his congregation; which continues much to flourish under his pasf> ' toral care.

spent the time to very little purpose; yet in the evening, had, I thought, some religious warmth and spiritual desires in prayer. My soul seemed to go forth after God, and take complacence in his divine perfections. * But, alas! afterwards awfully let down my watch, and grew careless and secure.

April 16. '^ Was in bitter anguish of soul, in the morning, such as I have scarce ever felt, with a sense of sin and guilt. L continued in distress the whole day, attempting to prajr^ wherever I went; and indeed could not help so doing; bu^ looked upon myself so vile, that I dared not look any body ii^ the face; and was even grieved, that any body should show m^ any respect, or that they should be. so deceived as to think 1 deserved it.

April 17. " In the evening, could not but think, that God helped me to ' draw near to the throne of grace,' though most unworthy, and gave me a sense of his favour; which gave me inexpressible support and encouragement. Though I scarcely dared to hope that the mercy was real, it appeared so great; yet could not but rejoice, that ever God should discover bis reconciled face to such a vile sinner. Shame and confusion, at times, covered me ; and then hope, and joy, and admiration of divine goodness gained the ascendant. Sometimes I could not but admire the divine goodness, that the Lord had not let me fall into all the grossest, vilest acts of sins and open scandal, that could be thought of; and felt so much necessitated to •praise God, that this was ready for a little while to swallow up my shame and pressure of spirit on account of my sins."

After this, his dejection and pressure of spirit returned ; and he remained under it the two next days.

April 20. '* Was in a very disordered state, and kept my bed most of the day. I enjoyed a little more comfort, than in several of the preceding days. This day I arrived at the age of twenty-nine years,

April2l, " I set out on my journey for New England, in order, (if it might be the will of God,) to recover my health by riding; travelled to New York, and there lodged."

This proved his final departure from New-Jersey.—He travelled slowly, and arrived among his friends at East-Haddara, about the beginning of May. There is very little account in his dia7y of the time that passed from his setting out on his journey to May 10. He speaks of his sometimes finding his heart rejoicing in the glorious perfections of God, and longing to live to him; but complains of the unfixedness of his thoughts, and their being easily diverted from divine subjects, and cries out of his leanness, as testifying against him, in the loudest

manner. Concerning those diversions which he was obliged to u«e for his health, he sa^s, that he sometimes found he oould use diversions with '* smgleness of heart," aiming at the glory of God; but that he also found there was a necessity of ^eat care and watchfulness, lest he should lose that spiritual temper of mind in his diversions, and lest they should degenerate into what was merely selfish, without any supreme aim at the glory of God in them.

Lord's day. May 10. " (At Had-Lime.*") I could not but feel some measure of gratitude to God at this time, wherein I was much exercised, that he had always disposed me, in my ministry, to insist on the greatest doctrines oi regeneration, the new creature, faith in Christ, progressive sanctijication, supreme love to God, living entirely to the glory of God, being not our own, and the like. God thus helped me to see, in the surest manner, from time to time, that these, and the like doctrines necessarily connected with them, are the only foundation of safety and salvation for perishing sinners; audf that those divine dispositions, which are consonant hereto, are that holiness, ' without which no man shall see the Lord.' The exercise of these godlike tempers—wherein the soul acts in a kind of concert with God, and would be and do every thing that is pleasing to him—1 saw, would stand by the soul in a dying hour; for God must, I think, deny himself, if he cast away his own image, even the soul that is one in desires with himself.

Lord'^s day. May 17. " (At Millington.t) Spent the forenoon at home, being unable to attend public worship. At this time, God gave me such an affecting sense of my own vileness, and the exceeding sinfulness of my heart, that there seemed to be nothing but sin and corruption within me. ^ Innumerable evils compassed me about;' my want of spirituality and holy living, my neglect of God, and living to myself.—AH the abominations of my heart and life seemed to be open to my view; and I had nothing to say, but, ' God be merciful to me a sinner.'—Towards noon, I saw, that the grace of God in Christ, is infinitely free towards sinners, and such sinners as I was. I also saw, that God is the supreme good, that in his presence is life; and I began to long to die, that I might 6^ with him, in a state of freedom from all sin. O how a small glimpse of his excellency refreshed my soul! Oh how worthy is the blessed God to be loved, adored, and delighted in, for himself, for his own divine excellencies I

" Though I felt much dulness, and want of a spirit of prayer, this week, yet I had some glimpses of the excellency of di-

^ A parish of Haddam, in Connecticut.

t A parish of East-Haddam* in Connecticut.

vine things; and especially one mornins, in secret meditation and prayer, the excellency and beauty of holiness, as a likeness to the glorious God, was so discovered to me, that I began to long earnestly to be in that world where holiness dwells in perfection. I seemed to long for this perfect holiness, not so much for the sake of my own happiness, although I saw clearly that this was the greatest, yea, the only happiness of the soul, as that 1 mi<i:ht please God, live entirely to him, and glorify him to the utmost stretch of my rational powers and capacities.

LoriPs day^ May 24. " (At Long-Meadow.*) Could not but think, as 1 have often remarked to others, that much -more of true religion consists in deep humility^ brokenness of hearty and an abasing sense of barrenness and want of grace and holiness^ than most who are called Christians^ imagine; especially those who have been esteemed the converts of the late day. Many seem to know of no other religion but elevated ^'ojff and affections^ arising only from some flights of imagination^ or some suggestion made to their mind, of Christ being theirs^ God loving them^ and the Hke."

Oh Thursday, May 28, he came from Long-Meadow to Northampton ; appearing vastly better than, by his account, he had been in the winter; indeed, so well that he was able to ride twenty-five miles in a day, and to walk half a mile ; and appeared cheerful, and free from melancholy : but yet undoubtedly, at that time, in a confirmed, incurable consumption.

I had much opportunity, before this, of particular informatioD concerning him, from many who were well acquainted with him ; and had myself once an opportunity of considerable con-vf rsation and some acquaintance with him, at Hew-Haven, near four years before, at the time of the commencement^ when he offered that confession to the rector of the college, which has been already mentioned in this history ; having been one whom he was pleased then several times to consult on that affair : but now I had opportunity for a more full acquaintance with him. I found him remarkably sociable, pleasant and entertaining in his conversation ; yet solid, savoury, spiritual, and very profitable. He appeared meek, modest, and humble ; far from any stiffness, moroseness, superstitious demureness, or affected singularity in speech or behaviour, and seeming to dislike all such things. We enjoyed not only the benefit of his conversation, but had the comfort and advantage of hearing him pray in the family, from time to time. His manner of praying was very agreeable; most becoming a worm of the dust, and a disciple of Christ, addressing an infinitely great and holy God, the Father of mercies; not with florid expressions, or a

* In Massachusetts.

studied eloquence; not with any intemperate vehemence, or indecent boldness. It was at the greatest distance from any appearance of ostentation, and from every thing that might look as though he meant to recommend himself to those that were about him, or set himself off to their acceptance. It was free also from vain repetitions, without impertinent excursions, or needless multiplying of words. He expressed himself with the strictest propriety, with weight and pungency; and yet what his lips uttered seem to flow from the fulness of his hearty as deeply impressed with a great and solemn sense of our necessities, unworthiness, and dependence, and of God^s infinite greatness, excellency, and sufficiency, rather than merely from a warm and fruitful brain, pouring out good expressions. I know not that I ever 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 usefiilness.^'

hordes day^ Mayil. " [At Northampton.] I had little inward sweetness in religion, most of the week past; not realizing and beholding spiritually the glory of God^ and the blessed Redeemer ; from whence always arise my comforts and joys in religion, if I have any at all: and if I cannot so behold the excellencies and perfections of God, as to cause me to rejoice in him for what he is in himself I have no solid foundation for joy. To rejoice, only because I.apprehend I have an interest, in Christy and shall be finally saved, is a poor mean business indeed."

This week, he consulted Dr. Mather, at my house, concerning his illness; who plainly told him, that there were great evidences of his being in a confirmed consumption^ and that he could give him no encouragement, that he should ever recover. But it seemed not to occasion the least discomposure in him, nor to make any manner of alteration as to the cheerfulness and serenity of his mind, or the freedom or pleasantness of his conversation.

Lord^s day^ June 7. " My attention was greatly engaged, and my soul so drawn forth, this day, by what I heard of the * exceeding preciousness of the saving grace of God's Spirit,' that it almost overcame my body, in my weak state. I saw that true grace is exceedingly precious indeed ; that it is very rare; and that there is but a very small degree of it, even

whete the rMlity 6f it is to be fowid; at least I taw this to be

nijf case.

•* In the pieceding week, I enjoyed some comfortable «e^ sons of meditation. One morning, the cause of God ap peal e d exceedingly precious,to me. The Redeemer^ kingdom is aU that is valuaole in the earth, and I could not but long fiir die

S 'emotion of it in the world. I saw, also, that this cause ii odVi, that he has an infinitely greater regard and concern for it, than 1 could possibly have;. that if I mve any true love ta this blessed interest it. is only a drop derived firom that ocealk.

promote it.* Thus I did as it were^ rest on Itod that m surely promote that which was so agreeable to his own wilf. though the time when, must still be 1^ to his sov<er^|n friM^ sure."'

He was advised by physicians still to continue riding} si' what would tend, above any other means, to prolonff Us fife^ He was at a loss, for some time, which way to bend his ooini next; but finally determined to ride from hence to Bosloii r irt having concluded that one of our faqiily should go with iiifl|»^ and be hdpful to him in his weak and low state.

fynt 9. ^ I set out on a journey firom Northampton to JBss* ton. Travelled slowly, and got some acquaintance with, fivers ministers on the road.

*^ Having now continued to ride for some considerable time together, I felt myself much better than I had formerly done; and found, that in proportion to the prospect I had of being le-stored to a state of usefiilness, so I desired the continuance of life; but death appeared inconceivably more desirable to me, than a useless life ; yet, blessed be God, I found my heart, at times, fully resi/s:ned and reconciled to this greatest of afflictions, if God saw fit thus to deal with me.

June 12. ^^ I arrived in Boston this day, somewhat fatmied with my journey. Observed that there is no rest^ but in God; fatigues of body, and anxieties of mind, attend us both in town and country ; no place is exempted.

hordes day^ June 14. " I enjoyed some enlargement and sweetness in family prayer, as well as in secret exercises; God appeared excellent, his ways full of pleasure and peace, and all I wanted was a spirit of holy fervency, to live to him.

June 17. " This and the two preceding days, I spent mainly in visiting the ministers of the town, and was treated with great respect by them.

June 18. " I was taken exceedingly ill, and brou^t to the gates of death by the breaking of small ulcers in my lungs, as

my physician supposed. In this extremely weak state, I continued for several weeks, and was frequently reduced so low, as to be utterly speechless, and not able so much as to whisper a word. Even after I had so far revived, as to walk about the house, and to step out of doors, 1 was exercised every day with a faint turn, which continued usually four or five hours: at which times, though I was not so utterly speechless, but that 1 could say Yes, or rf o, yet I could not converse at all, nor speak one sentence, without making stops for breath ; and divers times this season my friends gathered round my bed, to see me breathe my last, which they expected every moment, as I myself also did. /

"How I was, the first day or two of my illness with regard to the exercise of reason, I scarcely know. I believe I was. somewhat shattered with the violence of the fever at times ; but the third day of my illness, and constantly afterwards, for four or five weeks together, I enjoyed as much serenity of mind, anfl clearness of thought, as perhaps I ever did in my life. I think that my mind never penetrated with so much ease and freedom into divine things, as at this time ; and I never felt so capable of demonstrating the truth of many important doctrines of the gospel, as now. As I saw clearly the truth of those great doctrmes which are justly styled the doctrines of grace so I saw with no less clearness, that the essence of religion consisted in the souPs conformity to God^ and acting above all selfish views, for his glo-ry^ longing to be for him to live to him, and please and honour him in all things; and this from a clear view of his infinite excellency and worthiness in himself, to be loved, adored, worshipped and served by all intelligent creatures. Thus I saw, that when a soul loves God with a supreme love, he therein acts like the blessed God himself who most justly loves himself in that manner. So when God's interest and his are become one, and he longs that God should be glorified, and rejoices to think that he is unchangeably possessed of the highest glory and blessedness herein also he acts in conformity to God. In like manner when the soul is i\i\[y resigned to, and rests satisfied and contents with the divine will, here it is also conformed to God.

** I saw further, that as this divine temper, by which the soul exalts God, and treads self in the dust, is wrought in the soul by God's discovering his own glorious perfections in the face of Jesus Christ to it, by the special influences of the holy Spirit, so he cannot but have regard to it^ as his own work ; and as it is his image in the soul, he cannot but take delight in it. Then I saw again, that if God should slight and reject his own moral image^ he must needs deny himself^ which he cannot do. And thus I saw the stability andiiifallibility of this religion and that those who are truly possessed of it, have the most complete and satisfying evidence of their being interested in all the bene-VoL. X. 49

fits of Christ's redemption, having their hearts conformed to him; and that these, these only, are (}ualified for the employments and entertainments of God's kmgdom of glory; aa ncme bat these have any relish for the business of heaven, which is to ascribe fflory to God, and not to themselves; and that God (though I would speak it with great reverence of hiq name and perfection) cannot, without denying himself, finally cast such away.

«^ The next thing I had then to do, was to inquire^ whethsr this was my religion: and here God was pleased to help me Is the most easy remembrance and critical review of wnat had

itassed in course of a relisious nature, through several of tho atter years of my life. Although I could discover mach c(X<* ruption attending my best duties, many selfish views and carnal ends, much spiritual pride and self-exaltation, and innumflnUe other evils which compassed me about; yet God was pleased, us I was reviewing, quickly to put this^uestion out of doubt,iqr showing me, that 1 had, from tmie to time, acted above the qI* most i^uence of mere self-love; that 1 had longed to please and glorify him, as my highest happiness, &C. This review was through grace attended with a present feeling of the aamedi* vine temper of mind I felt now pleased, to mink of the i ~ of God, and longed for heaven, as a state wherein I might gi God perfectly, rather than a place of happiness for mye This feeling of the love of God in my heart, which I trust Hie Spirit of God excited in me afresh, was sufficient to give me a full satisfaction, and make me long, as I had many times befbie done, to be with Christ. I did not now want any of the suddm suggestions^ which many are so pleased with, ' That Christ and his benefits are mine; that God loves me,^ &c. in order to give me satijsfaction about my state. No, my soul now abhorred those delusions of Satan^ which are thought to be the immS' diate witness of the Spirit^ while there is nothing but an empty suggestion of a certain fact, without any gracious discovery of the divine glory^ or of the SpiriVs work in their own hearts. I daw the awful delusion of this kind of confidenc5e, as well as of the whole ofthat religion, from which they usually spring, or at least of which they are the attendants. The fiuse religion of the late day, though a day of wondrous grace, the imaginO' tions^ and impressions made only on the animal affections-together with the sudden suggestions made to the mind by Satan^ transformed into an angel of lights of certain facts not revealed in scripture—and many such like things, I fear have made up the greater part of the religious appearance in many places.

" These things I saw with great clearness, when 1 was thought to be dying. God gave me great concern for his church and mterest in the world, at this time; not so much be-

cause the late remarkable influence upon the minds of people was abated, as because that false religion—those hearts of imagination, and wild and selfish commotions of the animal affections—which attended the work of grace, had prevailed so fer. This was that which my mind dwelt upon, almost day and night; and this^ to me, was the darkest appearance, respecting religion, in the land ; for it was this^ chiefly, that had prejudiced the world against inward religion. And 1 saw the great misery of all was, that so few saw any manner of difference between those exercises which are spiritual and holy, and those which ha\e self love only for their beginning, centre, and end.

** As God was pleased to afford me clearness of thought, and composure of mind, almost continually, for several weeks together, under my great weakness, so he enabled me, in some measure, to improve my time, as, I hope, to valuable purposes. I was enabled to write a number of important letters, to friends in remote places: and sometimes I wrote when I was speechless, u e. unable to maintain conversation with any body; thoueh perhaps I was able to speak a word or two so as to be heari"

Among the letters written at this period, were the following. The reader will perceive that they were written by one, conscious that he was standing on the verge of the grave, and realizing, in no ordinary degree, the infinite importance of et^nity.

To his brother Israel^ at College: written in the time of his extreme illness in Boston^ a few months before his death.

" Boston, June 30, 1747.

" My dear brother,

** It is on the verge of Eternity I now address you. I am heartily sorry that I have so little strength to write what I long so much to communicate to you. But, let me tell you, my brother. Eternity is another thing than we ordinarily take it to be in a healthful state. O, how vast and boundless ! O, how fixed and unalterable ! O, of what infinite importance is it, that we be prepared for Eternity! I have been just a dying, now for more than a week; and all around me have thought me so. I have had clear views of Eternity ; have seen the blessedness of the godly^ in some measure ; and have longed to share their happy state ; as well as been comfortably satisfied, that through grace, I shall do so: but O, what anguish is

raised in mv mind, to think of E^ermiy for those who are ChrUtless^ for those who are mistaken, and who bring their false hopes to the grave with them! The sight was so dread* ful, I could by no meanil bear it: my thoughts recoiled, and I said, under a more affecting sense than ever before, * Who can dwell with everlasting burnings V O, methought, could I now see my friends, that I might warn them to see to it, that they lay their foundation for Eternity sure. And for you, my dear brother, I have been particularly concerned.; and hare wondered I so miich neglected conversing with you about your spiritual state at our last meeting. O, my brother, let me thm beseech you now to examine, whether you are indeed a wem creature ? whether you have ever acted above ^dff whethet the glory of God has ever been the sweetest and Ei^iest Gonr cem witn you ? whether you have ever been reeoBcded to all the perfections of God I in a w(Hrd, whether God has bean

{our j9arlton, and a holy cmfarmiijf to him your chief delight f f you cannot answer positively, consider seriously the frameol breathings of your soul; but do not, however, jrat youraelf dff vdth a slight answer* If you have reason to think you am graceless^ O, give yourself and the throne of grace no re8t,.t3l God arise and save. But if the case should be otherwise, UasB God for his ffrace, and press after holiness.*

^ My soul longs, that you shoidd be fitted finr, and in die time go into the work of the minutry. I cannot bear to thiid[ of your going into any other business in life. Do not be dn-couraged, because you see your elder brothers in the ministiy die early^ one after another. I declare, now I am dying, 1 would not have spent my life otherwise for the whole world. But I must leave this with God.

" If this line should come to your hands soon after the date, I should be almost desirous you should set out on a journey to me: it may be you may see me alive; which I should much rejoice in. But if you cannot come, 1 must commit you to the grace of God, where you are. May he be your guide and counsellor, your sanctifier and eternal portion ! I " O, my dear brother, flee fleshly lusts^ and the enchanting amusements^ as well as corrupt doctrines of the present day, and strive to live to God. Take this as the last line firom

" Your afiectionate dying brother,

" DAVID BRAINERD."

* Braiitbrd afterwards had g^reater satisfaction concerning; the state of bis brother's soul, by much opportunity of conversation with him before bis death.

To a young gentleman^ a candidate for the work of the minis-^'y* for whom he had a special friendship ; cdso written at the same time of his great illness and nearness to deaths in Boston.

** Very dear sir,

" How amazing it is, that the livings who know they must diej should, notwithstanding, ' put far away the evil,^ in a season of health and prosperity; and live at such an awful distance from a.familiarity with the grave, and the great concerns beyond it! Especially, it may justly fill us with surprise, that any whose minds have been divinely enlightened to behold the important things of eternity as they are, 1 say, that such should live in this manner. And yet. Sir, how frequently is this the case 1 How rare are the instances of those who live and act, from day to day, as on the verge of Eternity^ striving to fill up all their remaining moments, in the service and to the honour of their great Master ! We insensibly trifle away time^ while we seem to iiave enough of it; and are so strangely amused, as in a great measure to lose a sense of the holiness and blessed qualifications necessary to prepare us to be inhabitants of the Yie^.ven\y paradise. But O, dear Sir, a dying bed^ if we enjoy our reason clearly, will give another view of things. I have now, for more than three weeks, lain under the greatest degree of weakness; the greater part of the time, expecting daily and hourly to enter into the eternal world: sometimes have been so far gone, as to be wholly speechless, for some hours together. O, of what vast importance has a holy spiritual life appeared to me at this season ! I have longed to call upon all my friends, to make it their business to live to God^ and especially all that are designed for, or engaged in the service of the sanctuary. O, dear Sir, do not think it enough, to live at the rate of common Christians. Alas, to how little purpose do they often converse, when they meet together ! The visits^ even of those who are called christians indeed, are frequently extremely barren : and conscience cannot but condemn us for the misim-Srovement of time, while we have been conversant with them. iut the way to enjoy the divine presence, and to be fitted for distinguishing service for God, is to live a life of great devotion and constant self-dedication to him; observing the motions and dispositions of our own hearts, whence we may learn the corruptions that lodge there, and our constant need of help from God for the performance of the least duty. And O, dear Sir, let me beseech you frequently to attend to the great and precious duties of secret fasting and prayer.

*^ I have a secret thought, from some things I have observed, that God may perhaps design you for some singular service in

the world. O then labour to be prepared and qaalified to do much for God. Read Mr. Edwards* piece on tte affections, again and again ; and labour to distinguish clearly upon ex* periences and affections in reliffion, that you may make a difference between the gold and the shining dross. I say, labour here, if ever you would be an useful minister of Christ; for nothing has put such a stop to the work of God in the late day as the false religion, and the wild affections which attend it Suffer me, therefore, finally to entreat you earnestly to * ffive yourself to prayer, to reading and meditation on divine trums:* strive to penevate to the bottom of them, and never be content with a ^perficial knowledge. By this means, your thoughts will gradually gjow weiffhtv and judicious; and jrou hereby will be possessed of a vamaole treasure, ofut of which you may produce * things new and old,' to the fflory of Godr

^ And now, * I commend you to the grace ofGod/ earnestly desiring, that a plentiful ]>ortion of the divine Spirit mjaj rest upon you; that you may live to Ood in etertf capacity or lifi^ and do abundant service for him in a pubbc one, if it be hk will; and that you may be richly qualified for the * inh^tanee of the saints in iight*—^I scarce expect to see yoiir fivse any more in the body, and therefore entreat you to accept tbis as the last token of love, fi'om

^' Your sincerely affectionate dying firiend,

" DAVID BRAINERD."

" P. S. I am now, at the dating of this letter, considerably recovered from what I was when I wrote it; it having lain by me for some time, for want of an opportunity of conveyance; it was written in Boston.—I am now able to ride a little, and so am removed into the country; but have no more expectation of recovering than when I wrote, though I am a little better for the present; and therefore I still subscribe myself,

" Your dying friend, &c.

« D. B."

To his brother John, at Bethel, the town of Christian Indians, in New-Jersey ^ written likewise at Boston, when he was there on the brink of the grave, in the summer before his death,

" DEAR BROTHER,

I am now just on the verge of Eternity, expecting very speedily to appear in the unseen world. I feel myself no more an inhabitant of earth, and sometimes earnestly long to ^ depart and be with Christ' I bless God, he has for some years given me an abiding conviction, that it is impossible for any rational

creature to enjoy true happiness^ without being entirely * devoted to him/ Under the influence of this conviction 1 have in some measure acted. Oh that I had done more so I I saw both the excellency and necessity of holiness in life; but never in such a manner as now, when I am just brought from the sides of the grave. O, my brother, pursue after holiness; press towards this blessed mark; and let vour thirsty soul continually say, ^ i shall never be satisfied till I awake in thy likeness/ Although there has been a great deal of selfishness in my views, of which I am ashamed, and for which my soul is humbled at every view; yet, blessed be God, I find I have really had, for the most part, such a concern for his glory^ and the advancement of his kingdom in the world, that it is a satisfaction to me to reflect upon these years,

" And now, my dear brother, as I must press you to pursue B&er personal holiness, to be as much in fasting and prayer as your health will allow, and to live above the rate of common christicms; so I must entreat you solemnly to attend to your public work; labour to distinguish between true B.nd false religion ; and to that end, watch the motions of God's spirit upon your own heart. Look to him for help; and impartially compare your experiences with his word. Read Mr. Edwards on the ejections; where the essence and soul of religion is clearly distinguished from false affections.^ Value religious Joy^ according to the subject-matter of them: there are many wno rejoice in their supposed justification ; but what do these joys ar^e, but only that they love themselves ? Whereas, in true spuitual joys, the soul rejoices in God for what he is in himself^ blesses God for his holiness, sovereignty, power, faithfulness, and all his perfections; adores God, that he is what he is, that he is unchangeably possessed of infinite glory and happiness.

^ I had at first fally intended, in publishing; this and the foreg^oing; letters, to have suppressed these passages "wherein my name is mentioned, and my discourse on religious affections recommended ; and am sensible, that by my doing; other--wise; I shall bring apon me the reproach of some. But how much soever I may be pleased vrith the commendations of any performance of mine, (and I confess I esteem the judgment and approbation of such a person as Brainerd worthy to-be valued, and look on myself as highly honoured by it,) yet I can truly say, the things that governed me in altering my forementioned determination -with respect to these passages, were these two. (1.) What Braifterd here says of that discourse, shows very fully and particularly what his notions were of experimental religion, and the nature of true piety, and how far he was from placing it in impressions on the imagination, or any enthusiastical impulses, and how essential in religion he esteemed holy practice, &c. &c. For all that have read that discburse, know what sentiments are there expressed concerning those things. (2.) I judged, that the approbation of so apparent and eminent a friend and example of inward vital religion, and evangelical piety in the height of it, would probably tend to make that hook more serviceable: especially among some kinds of zealous persons, whose benefit was especially aimed at in the book; some of which are prejudiced against it, as written in too legal a strain, and opposing some things wherein the height of christian experience consists, and tending to build men upon their own works.

* -■•

Now, when men thus rejoice in the Mrfedioiu of Gfod^ and in the mfhiUe essceUency of the way of^fohaiien by Chrisi^ and m the holj commemdi of God, which are a transcript of hn hoRr nature; thue joys are divine and spiritual Our jors will stand by us at Ihe hour cfdeaik, if we can be then satisfied, that wo have thus acted above seif^ and in a disint^ested manner, tfl may so exf^ess it, rejoiced in the glory of the blessed €(od. I fear you are not simciently awa^e how much foise religiiMi there i9 in the world; many serious christians and valudUe mi* nistera are too easily imposed upon by this false blaze. I Ifto-wise fear you are not sensible of the dreadful eflfects and con* sequences of this false religion. Let me tell you, it is the dMI tfWisformed hUo an angel ofli^ht; it is hjlendnf heO^ tiiat always springs up with every revival of religion, and stabs aid murders the cause of God, while it passes current with multitudes of well meaning people for the height of religion. Set yourself, my brother, to crush all appearances of mk nataie, among the Indians, and never encourage any degrees of heit without light Charge my people in the name m their dmg mmist^^ yea, in the name of Jluii who was dead €mi it d&«, to live and walk as becomes the gospel Tell th^n homgniL the expectations of God and his people are from tbun, andnow awfully they will wound God^s cause, if they fall into vice; 19 well as fatdly prejudice other poor Indians. Always insist, that their experiences are rotten^ that their joys are debmoe^ although they may have been rapt up into the third hetmem in their own conceit by them, unless the main tenor of thdr lives be spiritual, watchful, and holy. In pressing these things, ^ thou shalt both save thyself and those that hear thee/

" God knows I was heartily willing to have served him longer in the work of the ministry, although it had still been attended with all the labours and hardships of past years, if he had seen fit that it should be so: but as his will now appears otherwise, I am fully content, and can with the utmost freedom say, ^ The will of the Lord be done/ It affects me to think of leaving you in a world of sin; my heart pities you, that those storms and tempests are yet before you, from which, I trust, through grace, I am almost delivered. But ^ God lives, aud ble^ed be my Rock;' he is the same almighty Friend; and will, I trust, be your Guide and Helper, as he has been mine.

" And now, my dear brother,' I commend you to God and to the word of his grace,' which is able to build you up, and give you inheritance among all them that are sanctified. May you enjoy the divine presence, both in private and public; and may ' the arms of your hands be made strong, by the right hand of the mighty God of Jacob!' Which are the passionate desires and prayers of

" Your affectionate dying brotl^r, " DAVID BRAINERD."

1

^' At this season, also, while I was confined at Boston, I read with care and attention some papers of old Mr. Shepard's, lately come to light, and designed for the press; and, as I was desired, and greatly urged, made some corrections, where the sense was left dark, for want of a word or two.—Besides this, I had many visitants, with whom, when I was able to speak, I always conversed of the things of religion ; and was peculiarly assisted in distinguishing between the true ^nd false religion of the limes. There is scarcely any subject, which has been matter of controversy of late, but I was at one time or other compelled to discuss and show my opinion respecting it; and that frequently before numbers of people. 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, bemg persuaded that multitudes perish in this hidden way; and because so little is said from most pulpits to discover any danger here: so that persons being never effectually brought to die in themselves, are never truly united to Christ, and so perish. I also discoursed much on what I take to be the essence of true religion; endeavouring plainly to describe that god-like temper and disposition of soul, and that holy conversation and behaviour, which may justly claim the honour of having God for his original and patron. I have reason to hope God blessed my way of discoursing and distinguishing to some, both ministers and people; so that my time was not wholly lost."

He was much visited, while in Boston, by many persons of considerable note and character, and by some of the first rank; who showed him uncommon respect, and appeared highly

E leased and entertained with his conversation. Beside being onoured with the company and respect of ministers of the town, he was visited by several ministers from various parts of the country. He took all opportunities to discourse on the peculiar nature, and distinguishing characteristics of true, spiritual, and vital religion; and to bear his testimony against the various false appearances of it, consisting in, or arismg from impressions on the imagination, sudden and supposed immediate suggestions of truths not contained in the scripture, and that faith which consists primarily in a person believing that Christ died for him in particular, &c. What he said was, for the most part, heard with uncommon attention and regard: and his discourses and reasonings appeared manifestly to havo Vol. X. ^>

I

great weight and influence, witli many with whom he conversed, both miniatera and othera.*

The honourable Commissioners in Boston, of the incorporated society in London for propagating the gospel in New-England and parts adjacent, having newly hadcommiHed to them a legacy of the late reverend and famous Dr. Daniel Williams, of London, for the support of two misxtonaries to the heathen, were pleased, while he was in Boston, to consult him about a mission to tliose Indians called the Six Ntitiong, particularly about the qualifications requisite in a missionary to those Indians. They were so satisfied with his sentiments on diia head, and had such confidence in his faitlifulness, hU judgment and discretion in things of this nature, that they desired him to undertake to find ana recommend two persons fit to be employed in this business ; and very much left the matter witL bim.

Several pious and generously disposed gentlemen in Boston, moved by the wonderful narrative of his labours and success among the Indians in New-Jersey, and more especially by their conversation with him on the same subject, took opportunitj to inquire more particularly into the state and necessities of his congregation, and the school among them, with a charitable intention of contributing something to promote the excellent design of advancing the mterests of Christianity among the Indians. Understanding that there was a want of Bibles for the school, three dozen Bibles were immediately procured, and 14/. in bills, {of the old tenor,) given over and above, besides more large benefactions made afterwards!, which I shall have occasion to mention in their proper place.

Beainerd's restoration from his extremely low state in Bot-tOR, so as to go abroad again and to travel, was very unexpected to him and his friends. My daughter, who was with biin, writes thus concerning him, in a letter dated June 33.—^ Ob Thursday, he was very ill with a violent fever, and extreme pain ia his head and breast, and, at turns, delirious. So he reraauwd till Saturday evening, when he seemed to he in the agonies of death; the family was up witli him till one or two o^clock, expecting that every hour would be his last. On Sabbath Aqr ne was a little revived, his head was better, but very fbll of pain, and exceeding sore at hia breast, much put to it fat breath, &-c. Yeaterday he was better upon all accounts. Last night he slept but little. This morning he was much wotse. Dr. Pyncnon says, be has no hopes of bis life; nw

* I have had sdruitsge for tiie more fall iDfonnation of hit condnct and OQD-imMtioo, the enUrtuniaent he met with, and what paued Talatiog to himiASa in Ballon; ■« he waa conilantly attended, daring his coDtinoaiiea thera, bjMi* ofnyQhildrea.in order to his asiutsiiM in his illDOB.

does he think it likely that he will ever come out of the cham*' ber; though he says he may be able to come to Northampton.''

In another letter dated June 29, she says as follows:—" Mr. Brainerd has not so much pain, nor fever, since I last wrote, as before : yet he is extremely weak and low, and very faint, expecting every day will be his last. He says, it is impossible for him to live ; for he has hardly vigour enough to draw his breath. I went this morning into town, and when 1 came home, Mr. Bromiield said, he never expected I should see him alive; for he lay two hours, as they thought, dying; one could scarcely tell whether he was alive or not; he was not able to speak for some time: but now is much as he was before. The doctor thinks he will drop away in such a turn. Mr. Brainerd says he never felt any thing so much like dissolution^ as that he felt to-day; and says, he never had any conception of its being possible for-any creature to be alive, and yet so weak as he is from day to day.—Dr. Pynchon says, he should not be surprised, if he should so recover as to live half a year; nor would it surprise him if he should die in half a day. Since I began to write he is not so well, having had a faint turn again: yet patient and resigned, having no distressing fears, but the contrary."

His physician, the honourable Joseph Pynchon, Esq. when he visited him in his extreme illness in Boston, attributed his sinking so suddenly into a state so extremely low, and nigh unto death, to the breaking of ulcers, which had been long ^fathering in his lungs, as Brain£rd himself intimates in a forementioned passage in his diary, and there discharging and diffusing their purulent matter. This, while nature was labouring and struggling to throw it off, which could be done no otherwise than by a gradual straining of it through the small vessels of those vital parts, occasioned a high fever and violent coughing, threw the whole frame of nature into the utmost disorder, and brought it near to a dissolution. But it was supposed, if the strength of nature held till the lungs had this way gradually cleared themselves of this putrid matter, he might revive, and continue better till new ulcers gathered and broke; but that this would surely sink him again, and there was no hope of his recovery. He expressed himself to one of my neighbours, who at that time saw him in Boston, that he was as certainly a dead man, as if he was shot through the heart.

But so it was ordered in divine Providence, that the strength of nature held out through this great conflict, so as just to escape the grave at that turn ; and then he revived, to the astonishment of all who knew his case. After he began to revive, he was visited by his youngest brother, Israel, a student at Yale College: who having heard of his extreme illness, went fit>m

thence to Boston, in order to see hiro, if he might find him alive, which be but little expected.

This visit wbb attended with a mixture of joy and sorrow to Brainerd. He greatly rejoiced to see his brother, espedally 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 sorrowfiil tidings of his sister Spencer^s death at Haddam; a sista*, between whom and him had long subsisted a peculiarly dear affection, and much intimacy in spiritual matters, and whose house he used to make his own, when he went to Haddam, hk native place. He had heard nothing of her sickness till this report of her death. But he had these comforts, together with the tidings, viz. a confidence of her being gone to heaven, and an expectation of his soon meeting her there.—^His brother continued with him till he left the town, and came with him firom thence to Northampton.—Concerning the last Sabbath. Brainerd spent in Boston, ne writes in his miry as follows :—

Lord*8 day^ July 19. ^^ I was just able to attend public wot-ship, beinff carried to the house of (rod in a diaise. Heud Dr. SewalT preach, in the forenoon : partook of the Lord^s sapper at this time. In this sacrament, I saw astonishing divine wisdom displayed; such wisdom, as 1 saw, required the tongues of angels and glorified sainst to celebrate. It seemed to me that I never should do any thing at adoring the infinite tcUdim of God, discovered in the contrivance of man^s redemption, until 1 arrived at a world of perfection; yet I could not help striving ' to call upon my soul, and all within me, to bless the name of God.'—In the afternoon, heard Mr. Prince preach. I saw more of God in the wisdom discovered in the plan of man's redemption, than I saw of any other of his perfections, through the whole day."

He left Boston the next day. But before he came away, he had occasion to bear a very full, plain, and open testimony against that opinion, that the essence of sa.\\ngfaitb lies in believing that Christ died for me in particular ; and that this is the Jirst act of faith in a true believer's closing with Christ. He did it in a long conference he had with a gentleman, who has very publicly and strenuously appeared to defend that tenet. He had this discourse with him in the presence of a number of respectable individuals who came to visit Brainerd before he left the town, and to take their leave of him. In this debate, he made this plain declaration, at the same time con-firmmg what he said by many arguments. That the essence of saving faith was wholly left out of the definition which that gentleman has published; and that the faith which he had de-fined had nothing of God in it, nothing above nature, nor in-

de6d above the power of the devils; and that all such as had this faith, and no better^ though they might have this to never so high a degree, would surely jDerish. He declared also, that he never had greater assurance of the falseness of the principles of those who maintained such a faith, and of their dangerous and destructive tendency, or a more affecting sense of the great delusion and misery of those who depended on getting to heaven by such a faith, while they had no better^ than he lately had when he was supposed to be at the point to die, and expected every minute to pass into eternity. — Brainerd^s discourse at this time, arid the forcible reasonings by which he confirmed what he asserted, appeared to be greatly to the satisfaction of those present; as several of them took occasion expressly to manifest to him, before they took leave of him.

When this conversation was ended, having bid an affection* ate farewell to his friends, he set out in the cool of the afternoon, on his journey to Northampton, attended by his brother, and my daughter, who went with him to Boston; and would have been accompanied out of the town by a number of gentlemen, besides that honourable person who gave him his company for some miles on that occasion, as a testimony of their esteem and respect, had not his aversion to any thing of pomp and show prevented it.

July 25. " I arrived here, at Northampton, having set out from Boston on Monday, about 4 o'clock, P. M. In this journey, I rode about sixteen miles a day, one day with another. Was sometimes extremely tired and faint on the road, so that it seemed impossible for me to proceed any further : at other times I was considerably better, and felt some freedom both of body and mind.

hordes day, July 26. " This day I saw clearly that I should never be happy ; yea, that God himself could not make me happy^ unless I could be in a capacity to ' please and glorify him tor ever.' Take away this, and admit me in all the fine heavens that can be conceived of by men or angels, and I should still be miserable for ever J*'*

Though he had so revived as to be able to travel thus far, yet he manifested no expectation of recovery. He supposed as his physician did, that his being brought so near to death at Boston, was owing to the breaking of ulcers in his lungs. He told me that he had several such ill turns before, only not to so kigh a degree, but as he supposed, owing to the same cause, viz, the breaking of ulcers; that he was brought lower and lower every time; that it appeared to him, that in his last sickness he was brought as low as it was possible, and yet live; and that he had not the least expectation of surviving the next return of this

breaking of ulcers; but still appeared perfectly calm in the prospect of death.

On Wednesday morning, the week after he came to Northampton, he took leave of his brother Israel, never expecting to see him again in this world ; he now setting out from hence on his journey to New-Haven.

When Brainerd came hither he had so much strength as to be able, from day to day, to ride out two or three miles, and to return ; and sometimes to pray in the family : but from this time he gradually decayed, becoming weaker and weaker.

While he was here, his conversation from first to last was much on the same subjects as when in Boston. He spoke much of the nature of true religion in the heart and practice, as distinguished from its various counterfeits; expressing his great concern that the latter so much prevailed in many places. He often manifested his great abhorrence of all such doctrines and principles in religion as had any tendency to Antinomianism; of all such notions, as seemed to diminish the necessity of holiness of life, or to abate men's regard to the commands of God, and a strict, diligent, and universal practice of virtue and piety, under a pretence of depreciating our works, and magnifying God^s free grace. He spoke often, with much detestation Si such experiences and pretended discoveries and joys^ as have nothing of the nature o( sanctijication in them, as do not tend to strictness, tenderness, and diligence in religion, to meekness and benevolence towards mankind, and an humble behaviour. He also declared, that he looked on such pretended humility as worthy of no regard, which was not manifested by modesty of conduct and conversation. He spoke often with abhorrence of the spirit and practice which appear among the greater part of separatists at this day in the land, particularly those in the eastern parts of Connecticut; in their condemning and separating from the standing ministry and churches, their cr}4ng down learning and a letirned ministry, their notion of an im-7nediate call to the work of the ministry, and the forwardness of laymen to set up themselves as public teachers and preachers. He had been much conversant in the eastern part of Connecticut, it being near his native place, when the same principles, notion, and spirit began to operate, which have since prevailed to a greater height; and had acquaintance with some of those persons who are become heads and leaders of the separatists. He had also been conversant with persons of the same class elsewhere ; and I heard him say, once and again, that he knew by his acquaintance with this sort of people, that what was chiefly and most generally in repute among them as the power of godliness^ was an entirely different thing from that true vital piety recommended in the scriptures, and had no-thing in it of that nature. He manifested a great dislike of a

disposition in persons to much noise and show in religion, and affecting to be abundant in proclaiming and publishing their own experiences. Though at the same time he did not condemn. But approved of christians speaking of their own experi-ences on some occasions, and to some persons, with due modesty and discretion. He himself sometimes, while at my house, spake of his own experiences; but it ways always with apparent reserve^ and in the exercise of care and judgment with respect to occasions, persons, and circumstances. He mentioned some remarkable things of his own religious experience to two young gentlemen, candidates for the ministry, who watched with him, each at different times, when he was very low, and not far from his end; but he desired both of them not to speak of what he had told them till after his death.

The subject of the debate already mentioned, which he had with a certain gentleman, the day he left Boston, seemed to lie with much weight on his mind after he came hither. He began to-write a letter to that gentleman, expressing his sentiments concerning the dangerous tendency of some of the tenets he had expressed in conversation, and in the writings he had

Eublished; with the considerations by which the exceeding urtful nature of those notions is evident; but he had not strength to finish his letter.

After he came hither, as long as he lived, he spoke much of that future prosperity of Zion, which is so often foretold and promised in the scripture. It was a theme upon which he delighted to dwell; and his mind seemed to be carried forth with earnest concern about it, and intense desires that religion might speedily and abundantly revive and flourish. Though he had not the least expectation of recovery, yea, the nearer death advanced, and the more the symptoms of its approach increased, still the more did his mind seem to be taken up with this subject. He told me, when near his end, that " he never in all his life had his mind so led forth in desires and earnest prayers for the flourishing of ChrisVs 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. Particularly, he several times expressed his wonder, that there appeared no more forwardness to comply with ihe 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 ChrisVs kingdom: and sent it as his dying advice to his own con-

gregation^ that they should practice agreeably to that proposal.*

Though he was constantly exceeding weak, yet there appeared in him a continual care well to improve time^ and fill it up with something that might be profitable, and in some respect for the glory of God or the good of men; either profitable conversation; or writing letters to absent fi-iends ; 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 givmg some directions concerning the future management of his people ; or employment in secret devotions. He seemed never to be easy, however ill, if he was not doing something for God, or in his service. After he came hither, he wrote a. preface to a diary of the famous Mr. Shepard^s, in those papers before mentioned, lately found, having been much urged to it by those gentlemen in Boston who had the care of the publication; which diary, with his preface^ has since been published.!

In his diary for Lord^s day^ Aug 9, he speaks of longing desires after deaths through a sense of the excellency of a state of perfection. —In his diary for Lord'^s day^ Aug. 16, he speak$ of his having so much refreshment of soul in the house of God, that it seemed also to refresh his body. And this is not only noted in his diary, but was very observable to others ; it was very apparent, not only that his mind was exhilarated with inward consolation, but also that his animal spirits and bodily strength seemed to be remarkably restored, as though he had forgot his illness. But this was the last time that ever he attended public worship on the Sabbath.

On Tuesday morning that week, as I was absent on a journey, he prayed with my family, but not without much difficulty, for want of bodily strength ; and this was the last family-prayer that he ever made.—He had been wont, till now, frequently to ride out, two or three miles: but this week, on Thursday, was the last time he ever did so.

Lord'^s day, Aug. 23. " This morning I was considerably refreshed with the thought, yea, the hope and expectatidti of the enlargement of ChrisVs kingdom ; and I could not but hope, that the time was at hand, when Babylon the great

* His congregation, since this, have with great cheerfulness and unanimity fallen in with this advice, and have practised agreeably to the proposal from Scotland ; and have at times appeared with uncommon engagedness and fervency of spirit in their meetings and united devotions, pursuant to that proposal. Also the Presbyteries of New York and New Brunswick, since this, have with one consent, fallen in v/ith the proposal, as likewise some other of God's people in those parts.

t A part of this preface is inserted in the Reflections on these Memoirs, in a subsequent part ot this volume.

Would falU and rise no more* This led me to some spiritual meditations, which were very refreshing to me. I was unable to attend public worship, either part of the day; but God was pleased to afford me fixedness and satisfaction in divine thoughts. Nothing so refreshes my soul, as when 1 can go to God, yea, to God my exceeding-joy. When he is so sensibly, to uff soul, O how unspeakably delightful is this!

" In the week past, 1 had divers turns of inward refreshing ; though my body was inexpressibly weak, followed continually with agues and fevers. Sometimes my soul centred in God, as inv only portion ; and I felt that I should be for ever unhappy, it He did not reign. I saw the sweetness and happiness of oeing his subject, at his disposal. This made all my difficulties quickly vanish*

" From this Lord^s day^ viz. Aug. 23, I was troubled very much with vapoury disorders, and could neither write nor read, and could scarcely live; although through mercy, was not so much oppressed with heavy melancholy and gloominess, as at many other times.^'

Til! this Week^ he had been wont to lodge in a room above stairs \ but he now grew so weak that he was no longer able to go up stairs and down. Friday^ Aug. 28, was the last time he ever went above stairs ; henceforward he betook himself to a lower room.

On Wednesday, Sept, 2, being the day of our public lecture, he seemed to be refreshed with seeing the neighbouring ministers who came hither to the lecture, and expressed a great desire once more to go to the house of God on that day: and accordingly rode to the meeting, and attended divine service, while the Reverend Mr. Woodbridge, of Hatfield, preached. He signified that he supposed it to be the last time he should ever attend public worship, as it proved. Indeed, it was the last time that he ever went out of our gate aHve.

On the Saturday evening next following, he was unexpectedly visited by his brother, Mr. John Brainerd, who came to see him firom New-Jersey. He was much refreshed by this unexpected visit, this brother being peculiarly dear to him; and he seemed to rejoice in a devout and solemn manner, to see him, and to hear the comfortable tidings which he brought concern* ing the state of his dear congregation of Christian Indians. A circumstance of this visit, of which he was exceedingly glad^ was, that his brother brought him some of his private writings firom New-Jersey, and particularly his diary which he had kept for many years past.

hordes day, Sept. f>. " I began to read some of my i)rivate Vol. X. 51

writings, which my brother brought me; and was coiudderaUjr refreshed with what I found in them.

Sept. 7. ^^ I proceeded further in reading my old private writings, and found that they had the same effect upon me as before. I could not but rejoice and bless God for wnat paved long affo, which without writing had been entirely lost.

^^ This evening, when I was in great distress of body, nqr soul longed that God should be glorified: I saw there was no character but this. 1 could not but speak to the by-standen then of the only happiness^ viz. pleasing God. O thai 1 couU for ever live to God 1 The day, I trust, is at hand, the perfect day. O the day of deliverance jfrom aU sin !

Lord^s day^ Sept. 13. ^^ I was much refreshed and engaged in meditation and writing, and found a heart to act f<Hr wd. My spirits were refreshed, and my soul delighted to do mm^ thing for God."

On the evening following that Lord^s day, his fiset began to fippear sensibly swelled; which thenceforward swelled moie and more. A symptom of his dissolution coming on. The next day, his brother John left him, being obliged to letam to New-Jersey on some business of ^eat importance and necesa-ty; intendmg to return again with all possible speed, hoping to see his brother yet once more in the land of the living.

Brainerd having now, with much deliberation, consklered of the important anair before mentioned, which was referred to him by the honourable commissioners in Boston, of the corporation in London for the propagation of the gospel in New-England, and parts adjacent, viz. the fixing upon and recommending of two persons proper to be employed as missionaries to the Six Nations; about this time wrote a letter, recommending two young gentlemen of his acquaintance to those commissioners, viz. Mr. Elihu Spencer, of East-Haddam, and Mr. Job Strong, of Northampton. The commissioners, on the receipt of this letter, cheerfully and unanimously agreed to accept of and employ the persons whom he had recommended. They accordingly since have waited on the commissioners to receive their instructions; and pursuant to these have applied themselves to a preparation for the business of their mission. One of them, Mr. Spencer, has been solemnly ordained to that work, by several of the ministers of Boston, m the presence of an ecclesiastical council convened for that purpose; and is now gone forth to the nation of Oneidas, about a hundred and seventy miles beyond Albany.

On Wednesday, Sept. 16, he wrote a letter to a gentleman in Boston, (one of those charitable persons beforementioned, who appeared so forward to contribute of their substance for promoting Christianity among the Indians,) relating to the

growth of the Indian school, and the need of another schoolmaster, or some person to assist the schoolmaster in instructing the Indian children. These gentlemen, on the receipt of this letter, had a meeting, and agreed with great cheerfulness to give 20U/. (in bills of the old tenor,) for the support of another schoolmaster; and desir^td the Rev. Mr. Pemberton, of New York, (who was then at Boston, and was also, at their desire,

E resent at their meeting,) as soon as possible to procure a suita-le person for that service; and also agreed to allow 141, to defray some special charges which were requisite to encourage the mission to the Six Nations, (besides the salary allowed by the commissioners,) which was also done on some intimations given by Brainerd.

Brainerd spent himself much in writing those letters, being exceedingly weak; but it seemed to be much to his satisfaction that he had been enabled to do it; hoping that it was something done for God, and which might be for the advancement of Christ^s kingdom and glory. In writing the last of these letters, he was obliged to use the hand of another, not being able to write himself.

On the Thursday of this week, (Sept. 17,) was the last time that ever he went out of his lodging room. That day, he was again visited by his brother Israel, who continued with him tiienceforward 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 I have longed to serve God perfectly : now God will gratify those de-aires!" And from time to time, at the several steps and new symptoms of the sensible approach of his dissolution, he was BO far from being sunk or damped, that he seemed to be animated^ and made more cheerful, as being glad at the appearance otdeath^s approach. He often used the epithet ^Zorioi/^, when speaking of the day of his deaths calling it that glorious day. And as he saw his dissolution gradually approaching, Jie talked much about it; and with perfect calmness spoke of a future state. He also settled all his aflairs, giving directions Tery particularly and minutely, concerning what he would have done in one respect and another after his decease. And the nearer death approached, the more desirous he seemed to be of it. He several times spoke of the dif event kinds of willingness to die ; and represented it as an ignoble, mean kind, to be wilhng to leave the body, only to get rid of pain ; or to go to heaven, only to get Aowoiir and advancement there.

Sept. 19. " Near night, while I attempted to walk a little, my thoughts turned thus : ' How infinitely sweet it is, to love God, and be all for him !' Upon which it was suggested to

mc, ' V'ou arc not an angel, not lively and active." To which my whole soul immediately replied. ' I as sincerely desire to love and glorify God, as any angel in heaven.' Upon which it was suggested again,' But you are filthy, not fit for heaven.' Hereupon instantly appeared the blessed robca of Chrirt> righteousness, in which I could not but exult and triumph; and I viewed the infinite excellency of God, and my soul even broke with longings, that God should be glorified. I thought of dignity in heaven ; but' instantly the thought returned, ' I do not go to heaven to get honour, but to give all possible glory and praise.' O how I longed that God should be glorified on earth also ! 01 was made —for eternity—if God might be glorified ! BottUy paint I cared not for; though I was then in extremity. I never (ell easier. 1 felt wiUing to glorify God in that state of bodily distress, as long as he pleased I should continue in it. Tbe^rai'c appeared really sweet, and I longed to lodge my ivcnry bones in it: but Oh, that God might be glorified! this was the burden of all my cry. O I knew that I should be active as an angel, in heaven; and that I should he atripped of my fltky garments.' so that there was no objection. But, O to lore 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.' 1 longed for a spirit of preaching to descend and rest on ministers, that they might address the con-; of men with closeness and power, I saw that God

* had the residue of the Spirit;' and my soul longed that it should be ' poured from on high.' I could not but plead with God for my dear congregation, that he would preserve it, and not suffer his great name to lose its glory in that work ; my soul still longing that God might be glorified,"

The extraordinary frame he wSs in, that evening, could not be hid. " His mouth spake out of the abundance of his heart," expressing in n very affecting manner much the same things as are written in his diary. Among very many other extraordinary expressions, which he then uttered, were such as these: *' My heaven ia to please God, and glorify him, and to give all to him, and to be wholly devoted to his glory: thai is the heaven I long for; that is my religion, and that is my happiness, and always was ever since I suppose I had any true religion : and all those that arc of that religion shall meet me in heaven. I do not go to heaven to be advanced, but to give honour to God. It is no matter where I shall be stationed in heaven, whether I have a high or low scat there; but to love, and please, and glorify God is all. Had I a thousand souls, if they were worth any thing, J would give them all to God ; but I have notliing to give, when all is done,—It is impossible for I

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 O 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 1 lament it, that I have not done more for him.—There is nothing in the world worth living for, but doing good^ and finishing God'^s work^ doing the work that Christ did. I see nothing else in the world that can yield any satisfaction, besides living to God^ pleasing him^ <md 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 1 have, is in being able to do some little service for God, either by something that I say, or by writing, or in some other way.

He intermingled with these and other like expressions, many pathetical counsels to those who were about him ; particularly to my children and servants^ He applied himself to some of my younger children at this time; calling them to him, and speaking to them one by one; setting before them, in a very plain manner, the nature and essence of true piety, and its great importance and necessity; earnestly warning them not to rest in any thing short of a true and thorough change of heart, and a life devoted to God.—He counselled them not to be slack in the great business of religion, nor in the least to delay it; enforcing his counsels with this, that his words were the words of a* dying man : said he, ^^ I shall die here, and here I shall be buried, and here you will see my grave, and do you remember what I have said to you. I am going into eternity: and it is sweet for me to think of eternity : the endlessness of it makes it sweet: but O what shall I say to the eternity of the wicked ! I cannot mention it, nor think of it; the thought is too dreadful. When you see my grave, then remember what I said to you while I was alive ; then think with yourself, how the man who lies in that grave, counselled and warned me to prepare for death.''

His body seemed to be marvellously strengthened, through the inward vigour and refreshment of his mind; so that, although before he was so weak that he could hardly utter a sentence, yet now he continued his most affecting and profitable discourse to us for more than an hour, with scarce any intermission ; and said of it, when he had done, ^^ it was the last sermon that ever he should preach.''—This extraordinary frame •of mind continued the next day, of which he says in his diary as follows:

r

40tl aiEuoms or bkainekd.

hord'x dtfj/, Sept. 20. " Was atill in a sweet and coinfort&ljle frame : and was again melted with desires that God nkight be glorified, and with longings to love and hve to him. Longed for the influences of the divine Spirit to descend on ministers, in a special manner. And O 1 longed to be wilh God, to be-hold his glory, and to bow in his presence!"

It appears by what is noted in his diary, both of this day and the evening preceding, that his mind at this time was much impressed with a sense of the importance of the work of the mimsiry, and the need of the grace of God, and his special spiritual assistance in this work. It also appeared in what he expressed in conversation: particularly in his discourse to hia brother Israel, who was then a member of Yale College at New-Haven, prosecuting his studies for the work of the ministry.* He now, and from time to time, in this his dying state, recommended to his brother a life of self-denial, of weanedness from the world, and devotedness to God, and an earnest endeavour to obtain much of the grace of God's Spirit, and God's gracious influences on his heart; representing the great need which ministers stand in of them, and the unspeakable benefit of them from his own experience. Among many other expressions, he said thus:—" When ministers feel these special gracious inflvences on their hearts, it wonderfully assists them to come at the consciences of men, and as it were to handle them ; whereas, without them, whatever reason and oratory we make Use of, we do but make use of stumps, instead of hands."

S^. 31. " I began to correct a little volume of my private writings. God, I believe, remarkably helped mc in it; my strength was surprisingly lengthened out, my thoughts were quick and lively, and my soul refreshed, hoping it might be a work for God.— O how good, how sweet it is to hwour for God!

Sept. 23. " WaB again employed in reading and correcting, and had the same success, as the day before. I was exceeding weak ; but it seemed to refresh my soul, thus to spend time.

Sept. 33. " I finished my corrections of the little piece before-mentioned, and felt uncommonly peaceful: it seemed as if I had now done all my work in this world, and stood ready for my call to a better. As long as I see any thing to be done foil God, life is worth having: but O, how vain and unworthy it is, to live for any lower end I—this day, I indited a letter, I think,

* Tbit young gentlemitn was an itigeniou), serioui, tluiJiotu, and hopeiiillj piotu penoQ: there sppenred in him tatay qualitiea giring hope o[ his being > (reittleraingin hia da;, Butithu pleaKcl God, since the death of hia broltwr, to take him away alio. He died l/uU winter, at Heir-UaTen January 6, 1T4S, of a nervooi fevw, after about a Ibrlnight'a illoen.

of great importance, to the Rev. Mr. Byram in New-Jersey. Ohtbat God would bless and succeed that letter, which was written for the benefit of his church !* Oh that God wouldpn-

rijy the sons of Levi^ that his glory may be advanced ! This

night, I endured a dreadful turn, wherein my life was expected scarce an hour or minute together. But blessed be God, T have enjoyed considerable sweetness in divine things, this week both by night and day.

Sept. 24. " My strength began to fail exceedingly; which looked further as if I had done all my work: however, 1 had strength to fold and superscribe my letter. About two I went to bed, being weak and much disordered, and lay in a burning fever till night, without any proper rest. In the evening, I got up, having lain down in some of my clothes; but was in the greatest distress, that ever I endured, having an uncommon kind of hiccough; which either strangled me, or threw me into a straining to vomit; and at the same time was distressed with griping pains. O the distress of this evening ! I had little expectation of my living the night through, nor indeed had any

about me : and I longed for the finishing moment! 1 was

obliged to repair to bed by six o'clock; and through mercy enjoyed some rest; but was grievously distressed at turns with the

hiccough. My soul breathed after God,—' When shall 1

come to God, even to God, my exceeding joy V Oh for his blessed likeness!

Sept. 25. " This day, I was unspeakably weak, and little better than speechless all the day ; however, I was able to write a little, and felt comfortably in some part of the day. O it refreshed my soul, to think of former things, of desires to glorify God, of the pleasures of living to him ! O, blessed God, I am speedily coming to thee, I hope. Hasten the day, O Lord, if it be thy blessed will, O come^ Lord Jesus^ come quickly. Amen.^

Sept. 26. " I felt the sweetness of divine things, this forenoon ; and had the consolation of a consciousness that I was doing something for God.

hordes day^ Sept. 27. " This was a very comfortable day to my soul: I think, 1 awoke with God. I was enabled to lift up my soul to God^ early this morning ; and while I had little bodily strength, I found freedom to lift up my heart to God for myself and others. Afterwards, was pleased with the thoughts of speedily entering into the unseen world."

Early this morning, as one of the family came into the room he expressed himself thus :" I have had more pleasure thismom-

^ It was concerning the qualifications of ministers, and the examination andli-c&Min^ of candidates for the work of the ministry.

t This was the last time that ever he wrote in his Diary with his own hand; though it is continued a little &rther, in a broken manner; written by his brother Israel, but indited by his mouth in this his weak and dying state.

ing, than all the drunkards in the world enjoy." So much

did he esteem the joy of faith above the pleaaurea of sin.—He felt that morning an unusual appetite to food, with which^his mind seemed tobeeshilaratcd, lookingonitasasignofthe very near approach of death. At this time he also said, " I vmn born on a Sabbalh-daij ; and I have reason to think I was newborn on a Sahhath-datj ; and 1 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. O, tchy is his chariot so long in coming? why tarry the wheels ofhig chariot ? I am very willing to part with all; 1 am willing to part with my dear brother John, and never to see him again, to go to be for ever with the Lord.* 0, when I go there, how will God's dear church on earth be upon my mind !"

AHerwards, the same morning being asked how he did, he answered, " I am almost in eternity? 1 long to be there. My work is done; I have done with all my friends ; all the world is nothing to me. 1 long to be in heaven, praising and gtori-iying God with the holy angels. Ml my desire is to glorify God.

During the whole of these last two weeks of his life, he seemed to continue in this frame of heart; loose from all the world, as having finished his work, and done with all things here below. He had now nothing to do but to die, and to abide in an earnest desire and expectation of the happy moment, when his soul should take its flight to a state of perfect holiness, in which he should be found perfectly glorifying and enjoying God. He said,' That iho consideration oftho day of death, and the day of judgment, had a long time been peculiarly sweet to him." From time to time he spuke of his being willing to leave the body and the world immediately, that day, that night, that moment, if it was the will of God. He also was much engaged in expressing his longings that the church of Christ on earth might flourish, and Christ's kingdom here might be adv^iced, notwithstanding he was about to leave the earth, and should not with his eyes behold the desirable event, nor be instrumental in promoting it. He said to me, one morning, as I came into his room, "My thoughts have been employed on the old dear theme, the prosperity of God's church on earth. As I waked out of sleep, I was led to cry for the pouring out of God's Spirit, and the advancement of Christ's kingdom, for which the Redeemer did and suiTered so much. It is that especially which makes me long for it."—He expressed much hope that a glorious advancement of Christ's kingdom was near at hand.

* He had, bGrarBttii>.eipre9BeilBi1uire,ir it might trajthe will of God, to live till his brother returned from New-Jertey : who, when he,went &WKf, iotended it pooible, to perform bii journey, andretura iaa fortnight: hoping onoeoiora to moet his brother m the Und of the liviDg. The fortnight was now mar ei^ired, it ended the next day.

He once told me, that " he had formerly longed for the out-Jpouring of the Spirit of God and the glorious times of the churchy 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 and satisfying to his mind.

He also still dwelt much on the great importance of the work of gospel ministers, and expressed his longings, that they might be filled with the Spirit of God. He manifested much desire to see some of the neighbouring ministers, with whom he had some acquaintance, and of whose sincere friendship he was confident that he might converse freely with them on that subject, before he died. And it so happened^ that he had opportunity with some of them according to his desire.

Another thing that lay much on his heart, from time to time, in these near approaches of death, was the spiritual prosperity of his own congregation of Christian Indians in New-Jersey : and when he spake of them, it was with peculiar tenderness; so that his speech would be presently interrupted and drowned with tears.

He also expressed much satisfaction in the disposals of Providence, with regard to the circumstances of his death; particularly that God had before his death given him an opportunity in Boston with so many cdnsiderable persons, ministers, and others to give in his testimony for God against false religion^ and many mistakes that lead to it, and promote it; He was much pleas* ed that he had an opportunity there to lay before pious and charitable gentlemen the state of the Indians, and their necessities to so good effect, and that God had since enabled him to write to them further concerning these affairs; and to write other letters of importance^ which he hoped might be of good influence with regard to the state of religion among the Indians, and elsewhere^ after his deaths He expressed great thankfulness to God for his mercy in these things^ He also mentioned it as what he accounted a merciful circumstance of his death, that he should die here. When he was sick at Boston, nigh unto death, it was with reluctance he thought of dying in a place where funerals are often attended with a pomp and show, to any appearance of which he was very averse: and though it was with some difficulty he got his mind reconciled to the prospect then before him, yet at last he was brought to acquiesce in the divine will, with respect to this circumstance of his departure. However, it pleased God to order the event so as to gratify his

VoT. X. 52

which he had exprecned, of gettifi^ back to Nortfaafflpfon,

with a view particiilarly to a more tifent and private rariaL And speaking of these thinjp, he said, ^^ God had ffranled him all his desire f ^ and signifiied, that now he coukl with the greater dacrity leave me world.

Sq>t. i!8. ^^ I was able to read and make some feweorrectkniB in my private writings; but found I could not write, as I had done ; I found myself sensibly declined in all respettsL It has been only from a little while before noon, till about ooe 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 Ihii^; either public or private, that I hoped was for God.**

This evening, he was supposed to be dying. He though so himself^ and was thought so by those who were about him. He seemed glad at the appearance of the near approach of dealfc. He was almost speechless, but his lips i^peaied to move: and one that sat very near him, beard him utter such ezprMnons as these, ^ Come, Lord Jesus, come quickhr.—Oh why is his ehl^t so long in coming.** After he revived, he blamed himself feir having been too eager to be gone. And in expressing what he found in the frame of his mind at that time, he said, he tiien found an inexpressibly sweet love to those whom he looked wen as belonging to Christ beyond almost all that ever he felt before, so that it seemed, to use his own words, ^* like a little piece of heaven to have one of them near him.** And being asked, whether he heard the prayer that was, at his desire, made with him ; he said, ^^ Yes, he heard every word, and had an uncommon sense of the things that were uttered in that prayer, and that every word reached his heart/*

On the evening of Tuesday^ Sept. 29, as he lay on his bed, he seemed to be in an extraordinary frame; his mind greatly engaged in sweet meditations concerning the prosperity of ZioD. There being present here at that time two young gentlemen of his acquaintance, who were candidates for the ministry, he desired us all to unite in singing a Psalm on that subject, even Zion*s prosperity. And on his desire we sung a part of the 102d Psalm. This seemed much to refresh and revive him, and gave him new strength; so that, though before he could scarcely speak at all, now he proceeded, with some freedom of speech, to give his dying counsels to those two young gentlemen before-mentioned, relating to their preparation for, and prosecution of that great work of the ministry for which they were designed ; and in particular earnestly recommended to them frequent secret fasting and prayer: and enforced his counsel with regard to this from his own experience of the great comfort and benefit of it, which said he, I should not mention, were it not that I am a

dying person. After he had finished bis counsel, he made a prayer, in the audience of us all: wherein, besides praying for this family, for his brethren, and those candidates for the ministry, and for his own congregation, he earnestly prayed for the reviving and flourishing of religion in the world.—Till now he had every day sat up part of the day; but after this he never rose from his bed.

Sept. 30. " I was obliged to keep my bed the whole day, through weakness. However, redeemed a little time, and with the help of my brother, read and corrected about a dozen pages in my MS. giving an account of my conversion.

Oct. 1. " I endeavoured again to do something by way of writing, but soon found my powers of body and mind utterly fail. Felt not so sweetly, as when I was able to do something which I hoped would do some good. In the evening, was discomposed and wholly delirious ; but it was not long before God was pleased to give me some sleep, and fully composed my mind.* O blessed be God for hLsgreat goodness to me,«ince I was so low at Mr. Bromfield^s on Thursday, June 18, last. He has, except those few minutes, given me the clear exercise of my reason, and enabled me to labour much for him, in things both of a public and private nature; and perhaps to do more good than I should have done if I had been well; besides the comfortable influence of his blessed Spirit, with which he has been pleased to refresh my soul. May his name have all the glory for ever and ever. Amen.

Oct. 2. " My soul was this day, at turns, sweetly set on God; I fonged to be with him, that I might behold his glory. I felt sweetly disposed to commit all to him, even my dearest friends, my dearest flock, my absent brother, and all my concerns for time and eternity. O that his kingdom might come in the world; that they might all love and glorify him, for what he is in himself; and that the blessed Redeemer might '^ see of the travail of his soul, and be satisfied! Oh, come Lord Jesus, come quickly! Amen."t

The next evening, we very much expected his brother John from New-Jersey; it being about a week after the time that he proposed for his return, when he went away. Though our expectations were still disappointed, yet Brainerd seemed to continue unmoved, in the same calm and peaceful frame, which he had before manifested ; as having resigned all to God, and having done with his friends, and with all things here below.'

* From thia time forward, he had the free use of his reason till the day before hia death: exeept that at some times he appeared a Uttle lost fqr a moment, whea first waking out of sleep.

t Here ends hit. diary. These are the last words irfaich are written in it either by his own hand, or by any other from his moutti.

On the morning of the next day, being Lord^s day, Oct 4, as my daughter Jerusha, who chiefly attended him, came into the room, he looked on her very pleasantly, and said, ^ Dear Je* rusha, are you willing to part with me 7—1 am quite willing to part with you: I am wilhng to part with all my friends, 1 am willing to part with my dear brother John, although I 'love him Uie best of any creature living : 1 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, 1 could not bear to part with you. But we shall spend an h^ppy eternity together !^^* In the evening, as one came into the room with a Bible in her hand, he expressed himself thus: ^^ O that dear book ! that lovely book 11 shall soon see it opened I the mysteries that are in it and the mysteries of God^s providence will be all unfolded P^

{lis distemper now very apparently preyed on his vitals in an extraordinary manner: not by a sudden breaking of ulc^v 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 mouthfuTs of almost clear pus ; which was attended with very inward pain and distress.

On Tuesday^ Oct. 6, he lay, for a considerable time, as if he were dying. At which time, he was heard to utter, in brokai 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, Wednesday^ Oct. 7, his brother John arrived from New-Jersey; where he had been detained much longer than he intended by a mortal sickness prevailing among the christian Indians, and by some other circumstances that made his stay with them necessary. Brainerd was affected and refreshed

* Since this, it has pleased a holy and sovereign God to take away this my dear child by death, on the 14th of February, next following, after a short illness of five days, in the eighteenth year of her age. She wa? a person of much the same spirit with Brainerd. She had constantly taken care of, and attended him in his sickness, for nineteen weeks before his death : devoting herself to it with great delight, because she looked on him as an eminent servant ot Jesus Christ. In this time, he had much conversation with her on the thing? of religion ; and in his dying state, often expressed to us, her parents, hisgr^at satisfaction concerning her true piety, and his confidence that he should meet her in heaven, and his high opinion of her, not only as a true Christian bu* a ver^ eminent saint, one whose SQul was uncommonly fed and entertained with things which apjiertain to the most spiritual, expt^rimental, and di'^tingui&hing parts of reli&^ion: and one who, by the temper of her mind, was fitted to deny herself for God and to do good, beyond any young woman whatsoever, whom he knew. She had manifested a heart uncommonly devoted to God, in the course of her life, many years before her death ; and said on her death bed that ^^ she had not seen one minute for several years, wherem she desired to live one minute longer, for the sake of any other good in life but doing good, living to God, and doing what might be for his glory."

with seeing him, and appeared fully satisfied with the reasons of his delay *, seeing the interest of rehgion and the souls of his people required it.

The next day, Thursday^ Oct. 8, he was in great distress and agonies of body ; and for the greater part of the day, was much disordered as to the exercise of his reason. In the evening, he was more composed, and had the use of his reason well, but the pain of his body continued and increased. He told me that it was impossible for any one to conceive of the distress which he felt in his breast. He manifested much concern lest he should dishonour God by impatience, under his extreme agony ; which was such, that he said, the thought of enduring it one minute longer was almost insupportable. He desired that others would be much in lifting up their hearts continually to God for him, that God would support him, and give him patience. He signi^ fied, 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 Re v. Mr. Billing, one of the neighbouring ministers, who was then present, concerning the great importance of the work of the ministry. Afterwards, when it was very late in the night, he had much very proper and profitable discourse with his brother John,concerning his congregation in New-Jersey, and the interest of religion among the Indians. In the latter part of the night, his bodily distress seemed to rise to a greater height than ever; and he said to those then about him, that'' it was another thing to die, than people imagined;" explaining himself to mean that they were not aware what bodily pain and anguish is undergone before death. Towards day, his eyes fixed ; and he continued lying immoveable, till about six o'clock, on Friday, Oct. 9, 1747, when his soul, as we may well conclude, was received by his dear Lord and Master, as an eminently faithful servant, into that state of perfection of holiness, and fruition of God for which he had so often and so ardently longed; and was welcomed by the glorious assembly in the upper world, as one peculiarly fitted to join them in their blessed employ and enjoyment.

Much respect was shown to his memory at his funeral; which was on the Monday following, after a sermon preached the same day on that solemn occasion. His funeral was attended by eight of the neighbouring ministers, and seventeen other gentlemen of liberal education, and a great concourse of people.

r

CHAPTER XIII.

Rejections on Ihepreceding Memoirs.

We have here an opportunity, as I apprehend, in a very lively instance, to see the nature of true religion; and the manner of ita operation; when exempliiied in a high degree and in powerful exercise. Particularly it may be worthy to be observed,

I. How greatly Brainekd's religion differed from that of some pretenders to the experience of a clectr work of saving conversion wrought on their hearts ; who, depending and living on that, settle in a cold, carelets, and carnal frame of mind, and in a neglect of a Uiorough, earnest religion, in the stated practice of it. Although his convictions and conversion were in all respects exceedingly clear, and very remarkable ; yet how far was he from acting as though lie thought he had got through his work, when once he had obtained comfort, and satisfaction of his interest in Christ, and title to heaven i On the contrary, that work on his heart, by which he was brought to this, was with him evidently but the beginning of his work ; his first entering on the great business of religion and the service of God bis first setting out in his race. His obtaining rest of soul in Christ, after earnest striving to enter in at the strait gate, and being violent to take the kingdom of heaven, he did not look upon as putting an end to any furtlier occasion for striving in religion, but these were continued etill and maintained constantly, through all changes, to the very end of life. His work was not finished, nor his race ended, till life was ended; agreeably to frequent scriptural representations of the Christian life. He continued pressing forward in a constant manner, " forgetting the things that were behind and reaching forth to the things that were before.^' His pains and earnestness in the business of religion were rather increased than diminished, after he had received comfort and satisfaction concerning the safety of bis state. Those divine principles, by which after this he was actuated, love to God, longings and thirstings after holiness, seem to have been more effectual to engage him to labour and activity in religion, than the fear of hell had been before.

As his conversion was not the end of his work, or of the course of his diligence and strivings in religion ; so neither was it the end of the work of the Spirit of God on his heart. On the contrary, it was the beginnmg of the work; the beginning of his spiritual discoveries, and holy views; the first dawning of

the light,which thenceforth increased more and more, the beginning of his holy affections, his sorrow for sin, his love to God, his rejoicing in Christ Jesus, his longing after holiness. The powerful operations of the Spirit of God in these things, were carried on from the day of his conversion, in a continued course, to his dying day. His religious experiences, his admiration, his joy, praise and flowing affections, did not maintain a considerable height merely for a few days^and weeks, or months at first, while hope and comfort were new things with him; and then gradually dwindle and die away, till they came to almost nothmg, and so leave him without any sensible or remarkable experience of spiritual discoveries, or holy and divine affections for months together. Many, after the effect of novelty is over, soon find their situation and feelings very much the same as before their supposed conversion, with respect to any present views of God's glory, of Christ's excellency, or of the beauty of divine things; and with respect to any present thirstings for God, or ardent out-goings of their souls after divine objects. Now and then, indeed, they have a comfortable reflection on the past, and are somewhat affected with the remembrance, and so rest easy, thinking that it is safe, and they doubt not but they shall go to heaven when they die. Far otherwise was it with Brainerd. His experiences, instead of dying away, were evidently of an increasing nature. His first love, and other holy affections even at the beginning were very great; but after the lapse of months and years, became much greater and more remarkable. The spiritual exercises of his mind continued exceedingly great, (though not equally so at all times, yet usually so) without indulged remissness, and without habitual dwindling and dying away, even till his decease. They began in a time of general deadness all over the land, and were greatly increased in a time of general reviving of religion. When religion decayed again, and a general deadness returned, his experiences were still kept up in meir height, and his holy exercises maintained in their life and vigour. Thus they continued wherever he was, and whatever his eireumstances were ; among English and Indians, in company and alone, in towns and cities, and in the howl ins: wilderness, in sickness and in health, living and dying. This is agreeable to the scriptural descriptions of true and genuine religion, and of the Christian life. The change wrought in him at his conversion was agreeable to the scriptural representations of that change which is wrought in true conversion; a great change and an abiding change, rendering him a new man, a new creature ; not merely a change as to hope and comfort, and an apprehension of his own good estate, and a transient change, consisting in high flights of passing affection ; but a change of nature, a change of the abiding habit and temper of his mind. Not a partial change merely in-point of opinion, or outward reforma-

tion (iDUch less a change from one error to another; or 6nM one sin to another; but an universal change, both intBtfiiat and external; as from corrupt and dangerous principles in rdisKMi^ unto the belief of the truth, so from both the habits aod^ ways of sin^ unto universal holiness of heart and practice; from the power and service of Satan unto God.

IL His religion apparently and greatly ditEsred from that of many high pretenders to religion, who are frequently actuated by vehement emotions of mind, and are carried cm in a course of sudden and strong impressions, and supposed bi|^ illuminations and immediate discoveries; and at the saiAe time are persons of a virulent ^ zeal, not according to luiow-ledffe,''

His conyictions, preceding his conversion, did n6t arise from any frightful impressions of his imagination, or any ext^nal images and ideas of fire and brimstone^ a sword of vengeance cfrawn, a dark pit open^ devils in terrible shapes, iLti tftron^ly fixed on his mind. His sieht of his own sinfulness did not consiM ia any imagination of a heap of loathsome material filthiness witluii him ; nor did his sense of the hardness of his heart consist ia any bodily feeling in ins breast of something hard tfnd heavy like a stone^ nor in any imaginations whatever of such a

His first discovery of Q^ or Christ, at his conversion, not any strong idea of any externsll glory or brightness, or ma^ jesty and beauty of countenance, or pleasant voice; nor was it any supposed immediate manifestation of GodV love to him in particular ; nor any imagination of Christ^s smiling face, arms open, or words immediately spoken to him, as by name revealing Christ's love to him ; either words of scripture, or any other. But it was a manifestation of God's glory, and the beauty of his nature, as supremely excellent in itself; powerfully drawing, and sweetly captivating his heart, and bringing him to a hearty desire to exalt God^ to set him on the throne, and to give him supreme honour and glory as the King and Sovereign of the Universe : and also a new sense of the infinite wisdom^ suitableness, and excellency of the way of salvation by Christ; powerfully engaging his whole soul to embrace this way of salvation and to delight in it. His first faith did not consist in believing that Christ loved him, and died for him in particular. His first comfort was not from any secret suggestion of God's eternal love to him or that God was reconciled to him or intended great mercy for him; by any such texts as these, " Son be of good cheer, thy sins are forgiven thee. Fear not, I am thy God," &c. or in any such way. On the contrary, when God's glory was first discovered to him, it was without any thought of salvation as his own^ His first experience of the sanctifying and comforting power o( God's spirit did not begin in some bodily sensation, any plea* sant vv^rm feeling in his breast which some would have called

feeling the love of Christ in him and being full of'the Spirit. How exceedingly far were his experiences, at his first conversion, from all things of such a nature.

If we look through the whole series of his experiences, from his conversion to his death, we shall find none of this kind. I have had occasion to read his diary over and over, and very particularly and critically to review every passage in it; and I find no one instance of a strong impression on his imagination, through his whole life; no instance of a strongly impressed idea of any external glory and brightness, of any bodily form or shape, any beautiml majestic countenance. There is no imaginary sight of Christ hanging on the cross with his blood streaming from his wounds ; or seated in heaven on a bright throne, with angels and saints bowing before him ; or with a countenance smiling on him; or arms open to embrace him : no sight of heaven, in his imagination, with gates of pearl, and golden streets, and vast multitudes of glorious inhabitants, with shining ffarments. There is no sight of the book of life opened, with his name written in it; no hearing of the sweet music made by the sones of heavenly hosts; no hearing God or Christ im-mediately speaking to him; nor any sudden suggestions of words or sentences, either of scripture or any other, as then immediately spoken or sent to him; no new objective revelations; no sudden strong suggestions of secret facts. Nor do I find any one instance in all the records which he has left of his own life, from beginning to end, of joy excited from a supposed im-maJio^e witness of the Spirit; or inward immediate suggestion, that his state was surely good, that God loved him with an everlasting love, that Christ died for him in particular, and that heaven was his; either with or without a text of scripture. There is no instance of comfort from any sudden suggestion to his mind, as though at that very time directed by God to him in particular, of any such texts as these ; " Fear not ; I am with the§;"—" It is your father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom ;"—" you have not chosen me, but I have chosen you;"—" I have called thee by thy name, thou art mine ;''— " Before thou wast formed in the belly, I knew thee;" &c. There is no supposed communion and conversation with God carried on in this way; nor any such supposed tasting of the love of Christ. But the way in which he was satisfied of his own good estate, even to the entire abolishing of fear, was by feeling within himself the lively actings of a holy temper and heavenly disposition, the vigorous exercises of that divine love which casteth out fear. This was the way in which he had full satisfaction soon after his conversion, (see his diary for Oct. 18. and 19, 17^^ We find no other way of satisfaction through his whole life afterwards; and this he abundantly declared to be the way^

Vol, X. 53

VSHOlltS or BKAI5KB1I.

the only war, in which he had complete looked deatn in the face, in its oear approaches.

Some of the pretenden to an immediate witness by bub-gestjon, and defenders of it, with an assuming coafidence would persuade ua, that that there is no full assurance without il ; and tbat the way of being satiKSed b^signtt, and arguing an interest in Christ from sanctification, tf it will keep men quiet in life and health, yet will never do when they come to die. Then, ^y say, men must have mmediate witness, or else be in a cbeadmi uncertainty. BbaikxRd's experience is a confutation of this; for in bun we have an instance of one who possessed 8s coBBtant, as unshaken an assurance, through the course of bia life, after conversion, as perhaps can be produced in this age. Yet be obtained and eQJt^ed it without any such sort <n tMtuBORjr, and without the least appearance of it, or pretence to it; yea, while utterly discluming any such thing, and declaring against it. His assurance, we need not scruple to alBnu, has as fair a claim, and as jost a pretension, to truth and genuineness, as any which the pretenders to immediate wilnets can prodace. He not onljr bad such assurance in life, but had it - u a constant manner m Aw hut iilnets; and particularly in the latter stages of it, through those last months of his life wherein' deqth was more sensibly approaching, without the least hope of life. He had it too in lie fatness, and in the height of its exercise, under repeated trials, in this space of time; when brought from time to time to the very brink nf the grave, expecting in a few minutes to be in eternity. He had " the full assurance of hope, unto the end." When on the verge ofetemity,lie then declared his assurance to be such as perfectly exclade^ all fear. Not only so, but it manifestly filled his soul with exceeding joy ; he declaring at the same time, that this his consolation and good hope through grace, arose wholly from the evidence he had of his good estate, by what he founo of bis sanctificatioo, or the exercise ofa holy heavenly temper of mind, Buprenclove to God, &c. and not intheleastfrom any immafiofewitnessl^ suggestion. Yea, he declares that, at these very times, he sqw the awful delusion of that confidence which is built on sucb a fomt-dation, as well as of the whole of that religion which it usnallf springs from, or at least is the attendant of; and that his soul abhorred those delusions : and he continued in this mind, often expressing it with much solemnity, even till death.

III. BaAiNEao's religion was not selfish and mercenary ; his love to God was primarily and principally for.the supreme excellency of his oion nature, and not built on a preconceived notion that God loved him, had received him into favour, and htt^ done great things for him, or promised great things (p Am-His joy was joy in God, and not in himself. We See by his

diary how, from time to time, through the course of his life, his soul was filled with ineffable sweetness and comfort. But what Was the spring of this strong and abiding consolation ? Not so lAttcfa the consideration of the sure grounds he had to think that his state was good, that God had delivered him from hell, and that lieaveti was his ; or any thoughts concerning his own distinguished happy and exalted circumstances, as a high favourite of JEfeot^en ; but the sweet meditations and refreshing views he hsid of divine things without himself; the affecting considerations and lively ideas of God^s infinite glory, his unchangeable blessedness, his sovereignty and universal dominion ; together with the sweet exercises of love to God, giving himself up tohim abasing himself before him, denying himself for him, depending upon him, acting for his glory, diligently serving him ; and the pleasing prospect or hopes he had of a future advancement of the kingdom of Christ, &c.

It appears plainly and abundantly all along, from his conversion to his death, that the sort of good, which was the great object of the new relish and appetite given him in conversion, and thenceforward maintained and increased in his heart, wias HOLINESS, conformity to God, hving to God, and glorifying him. This was what drew his heart; this was the centre ofhis soul; this was the ocean to which all the streams of his religious affections tended ; this was the object which engaged his eager thirsting desires and earnest pursuits. He knew no true excel^ncy, or happiness, but this ; this was what he longed for most Vehemently and constantly on earth; and this was with bim the beauty and blessedness of heaven. This made him so much and so often lon^ for that world of glory. It was to be jperfectly holy, and perfectly exercised in the holy employments of heaven; and thus," to glorify God and enjoy him for ever.''

His religious illuminations, affections, and comfort, seemed, to a great degree, to be attended with evangelical humiliation ; consisting in a sense of his own utter insufficiency, despicable-ness, and odiousness : with an answerable disposition and frame of heart. How deeply affected was he almost continually with his great defects in religion ; with his vast distance from that spirituality and holy frame of mind that became him; with his ignorance, pride, deadness, unsteadiness, barrenness! He was not only affected with the remembrance of his former sinfulness before his conversion, but with the sense of his present vileness and pollution. He was not only disposed to tnink meanly of himself as brfore God^ and in comparison of him; but amongst men, and as compared with them. He was apt to think other saints better than himself; yea, to look on himself as the meanest and least of saints ; yea, very often, as the vilest and worst of mankind. And notwithstanding his great attainments in spirit tual "knowledge^ yet we find there is scarce any thing, widi a

sense of which he is more frequently affected and abased, than his ignorance.

How eminently did he appear to be of a meek and ftctel spirit, resembling the lamb-like, dove-like spirit of Jesus Christ I How full of love, meekness, quietness, forgiveness, and mercy! His love was not merely a fondness and zeal for a party, but an universal benevolence; very often exercised in the most sensible and ardent love to his greatest opposers and enemies. His love and meekness were not a mere pretence, and outward profession and show ; but they were effectual things, manifested in expensive and laborious deeds of love and kindness; and in a meek behaviour; readily confessing faults under the greatest trials, and humbling himself even at the feet of those from whom he supposed he had suffered most; and from time to time very frequently praying for his enemies, abhorring the thoughts of bitterness or resentment towards them. I scarcely know where to look for any parallel instance of self-denial, in these respects, in the present age. He was a person of great zeal; but bow did he abhor a bitter zeal, and lament it where he saw it I And though he was once drawn into some degrees of it, by the force of prevailing example, as it were in his childhood; yet how did he go about with a heart bruised and broken in pieces for it all his life after !

Of how soft and tender a spirit was he ! How far were his experiences, hopes, and joys, from a tendency finally to stupify and harden him, to lessen convictions and tenderness of conscience, to cause him to be less affected with present and past sins, and less conscientious with respect to future sins. How far were they from making him more easy, in neglect of duties which are troublesome and inconvenient, more slow and partial in complying with difficult commands, less apt to be alarmed at the appearance of his own defects and transgressions, more easily induced to a compliance with carnal appetites! On the contrary, how tender was his conscience! how apt was his heart to smite him ! how easily and greatly was he alarmed at the appearance of moral evil! how great and constant was his jealousy over his own heart! how strict his care and watchfulness against sin I how deep and sensible were the wounds that sin made in his conscience! Those evils which are generally accounted small, were almost an insupportable burden to him ; such as his inward deficiencies, his having no more love to God, finding within himself any slackness in religion, any unsteadiness or wandering frame of mind. How did the consideration of such things as these oppress and abase him, and fill him with inward shame and confusion I His love and hope, though they were such as cast out a servile fear of hell, yet were attended with, and abundantly cherished and promoted a reverential filial fear of God, a dread oif sin and of God's holy

displeasure. His joy seemed truly to be a rejoicing with trembling. His assurance and comfort differed greatly from a false enthusiastic confidence and joy, in that it promoted and maintained mourning for sin. Holy mourning with him, was not only the work oT an hour or afday, at his first conversion ; but sorrow for sin was like a wound constantly running ; he was a mourner for sin all his days. He did not, afiter he received comfort and full satisfaction of the forgiveness of all his sins, and the safety of his state, forget his past sins, the sins of his jouth, committed before his conversion; but the remembrance of them, fi'om time to time, revived in his heart, with renewed

Eief, That passage [Ezek xvi. 63.] was evidently fulfilled in m," That thou mayest remember, and be confounded, and never open thy mouth any more, because of thy shame; when I am pacified toward thee for all that thou hast done." And how lastingly did the sins he committed after his conversion affect and break his heart! If he did any thing whereby he thought he had in any respect dishonoured God, and wounded the interest of religion, he had never done with calling it to mind with sorrow and bitterness; though he was assured that God had forgiven it, yet he never forgave himself; his past sorrows and fears made no satisfaction, with him ; but still the wound renews and bleeds afresh, again, and again. And his present ains, those he daily found in himself, were an occasion of daily, sensible, and deep sorrpw of heart.

His religion did not consist in unaccountable flights and vehement pangs; suddenly rising, and suddenly falling; at times exalted almost to the third heavens, and then negligent, vain, carnal, and swallowed up with the world, for days and weeks, if not months together. His religion was not like a blazing meteor, or like a flaming comet, (or a wandering star, as the apostle Jude calls it, ver. 13.) flying through the firmament with a bright train, and then quickly departing into perfect darkness; but more like the steady lights of heaven, constant principles of liffht, though sometimes hid w4th clouds. Nor like a land-flood which flows far and wide with a rapid stream, bearing down all before it, and then dries up; but more like a stream, fed by living springs; which, though sometimes increased by showers, and, at other times diminished by drought, yet is a constant stream.

His religious affections and joys were not like those of some who have rapture and mighty emotions from time to time in company ; but have very little affection in retirement and secret places. Though he was of a verj' sociable temper, and loved the company of saints, and delighted very much in religious Conversation, and in social worship ; yet his warmest affections, and their greatest effects on animal nature, and his sweetest joys, were in his closet devotions, and solitary transactions between God and his own soul: as is very observable through his

whole course, from his convenion to his death. He deli|dbted ipreatly in sacred retirements; and loved to get quite away nom all the world, to converse with God alone in secret dotiek

Brainerd^s experiences and comforts were very fiir firom behitf like those of some persons, which are attended with a apiritma 0atiety, and which put an end to their religious desires and loi^-iiigs, at least to the edge and ardency of them; restiiig latis-fiM in their own attainments and comforts, as haVlM obtunc4 thei chief end, which is to extinguish their fears of hel), and give them confidence of the favour of God. On the contraiy, %ey were always attended with longings and thirstinn idEtielr gir^ter decrees of conformity to God! The greater and tweeter his comforts were, the more vehement were his dionres alter holiness. His longings were not so much after jovftd diMX>verM ofGod^s love, and clear views of his own title to niture advance-tnent and eternal honours in heaven, as after moreof presenil kofi-ness, greater spirituality, an heart more engaged for God, to love, and exalt, ana depend on him. He eamestlv wished to Mfve God better, to do more for his ^lory, to do all that be cUd with fnore of a regard to Christ as his riffhteousness abd s tiN ^lh , afad to behold the enlargement and advancement ofhis kingdom ob earth. His desires were not idle wishes, but steb ats initt powerfiil and effectual, to animate him to the eiurneilt^ eatfe^

1>ur8uit of these things, with the utmost diligence aind insfaiBluU^ abour and self-denial. His comfi^ts iever put an end to ho seeking after God, and striving to obtain his grace; bat, on the contrary, greatly engaged him therein.

IV. His religion did not consist in ex-perience without practice. All his inward illuminations^ affections, and comforts, seemed to have a direct tendency to practice, and to issue in it: and this, not merely a practice negatively good, free from gross acts of irreligion and immorality; but a practice positivety holy and christian, in a serious, devout, humble, meek, merciful, charitable, and beneficent conversation, making the service of God and our Lord Jesus Christ, the great business of life, to which he was devoted, and which he pursued with the greatest earnestness and diligence to the end of his days» through all trials. In him was to be seen the right way of being lively in religion. His liveliness in religion, did not consist merely, or mainly, in his being lively with the tongue, but in deed ; not in being forward in profession and outward show, and abundant in deiclaring his own experiences; but chiefly in being active and abundant in the labours and duties of religion ; ^^ not slothful in business, but fervent in spirit serving the Lord, and serving his generation, according to the will of God." By these things, many high pretenders to "religion, and professors of extraordinary spiritual experience, may be sensible that Braikerd did greatly condemn their kind ot religion \ and that not only in word, but

bv example, both living and dying; as the whole series of his cnristian experience and practice, from his conversion to hi£f death, appears a constant condemnation of it«

It cannot be objected, that the reason why he so much disliked the religion of these pretenders, and why his own so much differed from it, was, that his experiences were not clear, 'i heir is no room to say, they were otherwise, in any respect, in which clearness of experience has been wont to be insisted on; whether it be the clearness of their nature or of their order^ and the method in which his soul first found rest and comfort in his con-version. 1 am far from thinking, and so was he, that clearness in the order of experiences is, in any me&ure, of equal importance with the clearness of their nature. I have sufficiently declared in my discourse on religious affections, which he expressly approved of and recommended, that I do not suppose, a sensible distinctness of the steps of the spirit^s operation and method of successive convictions and illuminations, is a necessary' requisite to persons being received in full charity, as true saints ; provided the nature of the things which they profess be right, ^d their practice correspondent Nevertheless, it is observable,—a fact which cuts off all objection from such as would be most unreasonably disposed to object and cavil in the present case,—that Brainerd's experiences were not only clear in the latter respect, but remarkably so in the former ; so that there is not perhaps one instance in five hundred true converts, which on ttiis account can be paralleled with him.

It cannot be pretended, that the reason why he so much condemned the experiences of those whose first faith consists in believing that Christ is theirs^ and that Christ died for them ; without any previous experience of union of heart to him, for his excellency as he is in himself, and not for his supposed love to them—and who judge of their interest in Christ, their justification, and God's love to them, not by their sanctification, and the exercises and fruits of grace, but by a supposed imme" diate witness of the Spirit, by inward suggestion—was that he was of a too legal spirit, or that he never was dead to the law, never experienced thorough work of conviction, was never fully brought off from his own righteousness, and weaned from the old covenant hy a thorough legal humilation ; or that afterwards he had no great degree of evangelical humiliation, not living in a dieep sense of his own emptiness, wretchedness, poverty, and absolute dependence on the mere grace of God through Christ. His convictions of sin preceding his first consolations in Christ, were exceedingly deep and thorough ; his trouble and exercise of mind, from a sense of sin and misery, very great, and long con-tinuedy and the light let into his mind at his conversion, and in

Erogressive sanctification, appears to have had its genuine hum-Kng influence upon him, to have kept him low in his own eyes.

^4 . HXMOmS OF BftAimBEJ^.

not confidi^ in himself, but in Christ,^ liviiu; by the fiuth of the sori of uod, and looking for the mercy ofthe Lord Jesos to eternal life.^^ ^

Nor can it be pretended, that the reason why he condemned these, and other things, which this sort of people call the ?eiy essence of vital reli^on, and the power of godfiness, was, th2t he was a dead Ckruiian^ and lived m the aark^ as they express themselvcSB ;that his experiences, though thev mi^^t be true were not great; that he did not live near to God; that he had hot a smaH acquuntance with him; or that he had but a dim sight of spiritual things. If any, after they have read the preceding account of BEAnBED^s life, will venture to pretend tiiis» they will only show that they themMehe$ are in the dark^ and do indeed «*pot darkness for wht, and light for darimess.^

It is common with this sort of people, if there are aiqr, whom they cannot deny to exhibit good evidences of true jpNlUnesii who yet appear to dislike their notions—and condemn, those things, wherein th^ place the height of religion—:to insinuate, that they are afrmaofllu crott^ and have a mind to wecitre ike fa^awr ofthe world and the like. But this will not be allcmd concemmff BaAl)f bed, by any one who has read the jM«<MNuqg account m his life. It must be obvious to every one, thai he was an extraordinary, and almost unparalleled instance in these times, and these parts of the world, of the contrary dispositioo; and that, whether we consider what he has recorded of his inward experience from time to time; or his practice, how he in fact took up and embraced the cross^ and bore it constantly, in his great self-denials, labours and sufferings for the name of Jesus, and went on without fainting, without repining^ to his dyinff illness; how he did not only, troni time to time relinquish and renounce the world secretly in his heart, with the full and fervent consent of all the powers of his soul; but openly and actually forsook the worlds with its possessions, delights, and common comforts, to dwell as it were with wild beasts, in a howling wilderness ; with constant cheerfulness, complying with the numerous hardships of a life of toil and travail there, to promote the kingdom of his dear Redeemer. Besides, it appears by the preceding histor}', that he never did more condemn the things referred to, never had a greater sense of their delusion, pernicious nature, and ill tendency, and never was more full of pity to those who are led away with them, than in his last illness,, and at times when he had the nearest prospect of death, and supposed himself to be on the very brink of eternity. Surely he did not condemn those things at these seasons, only to secure the favour ofthe world.

V. Beside what has been already related of Brainbed*s sentiments in his dying state concerning true and false religion, we have his deliberate and solemn thoughts on this subject in his

preface to Mr. Shepard's diary, before mentioned, which, when he wrote it, he supposed to be, as it proved, one of the last things he should ever write. I shall here insert a part of that preface^ as follows:—

^ How much stress is laid by many upon some things as being effects and evidences of exalted degrees of religion, when thev are so far from being of any importance in it, that they are really irreligious, a mixture of self-love^ imagination^ and spiritual pride^ or perhaps the influence of Satan transformed into an angel of light; I say, how much stress is laid on these things by many, I shall not determine : but it is much to be feared, that while God was carrying on a glorious work of grace, and undoubtedly gathering a harvest of souls to himself, which we should always remember with thankfulness, numbers of others have, at the same time been fatally deluded by the devices of the devil, and their own corrupt hearts. It is to be feared, that the conversions of some have no better foundation than this; viz. that after they have been under some concern for their souls for a while, and it may be manifested some very great and uncom« mon distress and agonies, they have on a sudden imagined that they saw Christy in some posture or other, perhaps on the cross, bleeding and dying for their sins; or it may be, smiling on them and thereby signifying his love to them ; and that these and the like things, though mere imaginations, which have nothing spiritual in them, have instantly removed all their fears and distresses, filled them with raptures of joy and made them imagine, that they loved Christ with all their hearts; when the bottom of all was nothing but self-love. For when they imagined that Christ had been so good to them as to save them, and as it were to single them out of all the world, they could not but feel some kind of natural gratitude to him; although they never had any spiritual view of his divine glory, excellency, and beauty, and consequently never had any love to him for himself. Others having had a passage, or perhaps many passages of scripture^ brought to their minds with power^ as they express it, such as that, ** Son be of good cheer, thy sins are forgiven thee," and the like; have immediately applied these passages to themselves^ supposing that God hereoy manifested his peculiar favour to them^ as if mentioned by name ; never considering, that they are now giving heed to new revelations, there being no such thing revealed in the word of God, as that this or that particular person has, or ever shall have his sins forgiven; nor yet remembering, that Satan can with a gieat deal of seeming pertinency, and perhaps also with considerable power, bring scripture to the minds of men, as he did to Christ himself Thus these persons rejoice in having a passage of scripture suddenly suggested to them or impressed upon their minds, supposing they are now the chil-»

dren of God; just as the others did in their imaginary views o( Christ. Some speak of seeing a great light which filled all the place where they were, and cnspelled all their darkness, fears, and distresses, and almost ravished their souls.—While others have had it warmly suggested to their minds, not by any passage of scripture, but as it were by a whisper or voice from heaven, " That God loves them, that Christ is theirs,'' ifec. which groundless imaginations and suggestions of Satan have bad the same effect upon them, that the delusions before mentioned had on the others. As is the conversion of this sort of persons, so are their after eicperiences ; the whole being built upon imagination, strong impressions, and sudden suggestions made to their minds; whence they are usually extremely confident, as if immediately informed from God, not only of the goodness of their own state, but of their infallible knowledge, and absolute certainty, of the truth of every thing to which they pretend under the notion of religion; and thus all reasoning with some of them is utterly excluded.

** But it is remarkable of these, that they are extremely deficient in true poverty of spirit, a sense of exceeding vileness in themselves, such as frequently makes truly gracious souls to groan^ being burdened ; as also in meekness, love, gentleness towards mankind, and tenderness of conscience in their ordinary afiairs and dealings in the world. It is rare to see them deeply concerned about the principles and ends of their actions, and under fears lest they should not eye the glory of God chiefly, but live to themselves; or this at least is the case in their orcli-nary conduct, whether civil or religious. But if any one of their particular notions^ which their zeal has espoused, be attacked, they are then so conscientious, they mus^ burn^ if called to it, for its defence. At the same time while they are so extremely deficient in these precious divine tempers^ which have been mentioned, they are usually full of zeal^ concern, and fervency in the things of religion, and often discourse of them with much warmth and engagedness : and to those, who do not know, or do not consider, wherein the essence of true religion consists —viz. in being conformed to the image of Christy not in point of zeal and fervency only, but in all divine tempers and practices —Ihey often appear like the best of men."

It is common with this sort of people to say, that " God is among them, that his Spirit accompanies their exhortations, and other administrations, and that they are sealed by the Holy Ghost in the remarkable success which they have, in the great affections which are stirred up in God's people," &c. and to insinuate on the contrary, that" he is not with their opponents f and particularly," that God has forsaken the standing ministry; that the time is come, when it is the will of God that they should be pat down, and that God's people should forsake them ; and

that no more success is to be expected to attend their adminis-trations/V But where can they find an instance, among all their most flaming exhorters^ who has been sealed witli so incontestable and wonderful success of his labours, as Brainerd, not only in quickening and comforting God^s children, but als<» in a work of conviction and conversion, which they own has in a great measure ceased for a long time among themselves, with a most visible and astonishing manifestation of God's power ? This, too, was on subjects, who were extremly unprepared, and who had been brought up and lived, some of them to old age, in the deepest prejudices against the very first principles of Christianity; and yet we find the divine power accompanying his labours, producing the most remarkable and abiding change, turning the wilderness into a fruitful field, and causing that which was a desert indeed to bud and blossom as the rose. And this, although he was not only one of their greatest opponents in their errors ; but also one of those whom they call the standing ministry; first examined and licensed to preach by such ministers^ and sent forth among the Heathen by such ministers / and afterwards ordained by such ministers ; alwayjtf directed by them, and united with them in their consistories, and administrations; and even abhorring the practice of those who give out, that they ought to be renounced, and separated

~ from, and that teachers may be obtained by laymen.

It cannot be pretended by these men,thatBRAiNERD condemn-.ed their religion, merely because he was not acquainted with them^ and had not opportunity for full observation of the nature, operation, and tendency of their experiences ; for he had abundant and peculiar opportunities of such observation and acquaintance. He lived through the late extraordinary time of religious commotion, and saw the beginning and end, the good and the bad of it. He had opportunity to see the various operations and effects which were wrought in this season, more extensively than any person whom I know. His native place was near the centre of Connecticut; and he was much conversant in all parts of that colony. He was conversant in the eastern parts of it,

jifafter the religion which he condemned began much to prevail there. He was conversant with the zealous people on Long-Island, from one end of the island to the other; and also in New-Jersey and Pennsylvania; with people of various nations. He had special opportunities in some places in this province, {Mas-sachusetts) where there has been very much of this sort of religion, and at a time when it greatly prevailed. He had conversed and disputed with multitudes of this sort of people in various parts, as he told me; and had seen somewhat of the same appearances in some of the Indians, to whom he had preached» and had opportunity to see the beginning and end of them. Besides, Brainerb could speak more feelingly concerning thtfte

MEMOIRS or IBAtMEBS.

things, because there wan once a time whoa he wai drawn away into an esteem of them, and fat a short aeaaoD had oaited hinHeJf to this kind of people, and partook, in soiDe nspecVtrf their spirit and behaviour. But I proceed to another c*" tion OD the foregoing memoirs.

BarLXCTion ii.

Thiihiatory of Bkiiheed mav help na to make distinctiotu among the h^b religious aff'ecttont and remurkablc impressiont made on the minds of persons, in a time of great awaketting, and retmal iff religion I and maj convince us, that there ara not only distmctioos in theory, mventfd to save the credit of pretended revivals of religion, and what is culled ihe experieiux of the imerationM of the Spirit} but disllnctions which do ac* tually taae place in the course of events, and have a real aii4 evident foundation in fact. , , ,

Uany do and toiO confound dungs, blend altogether, aojins, ** It is all alike; it is all of the same sort." So were an nipiijr. -who say concerning the religion most seoerally prarajfiai among Separatists, and the affections wiicb they maaifertj '* It is the same that was all over tbe land seven yean -sigo, . And some who have read Bbaiherd's Journal giving an account of the extraordinary things which have come to pass among tbe Indians in New-Jersey, say," It is evidently the same thing vrnich appeared in many places among the Engliiih, which has now proved naught, and come to what is worae than nothing." The only reason which they have thus to determine all to oe the some aiork, and the same spirit^ is that the one manifested high affections, and so do the other ; that the great a&ections ot the one bad some influence on their bodies, and so have the other; that the one use the terms conviction, conversion, humiliation, coming to Christ, discoveries, experitnces, &C and SO do the other; that the impressions of tbe one are attended with> a great deal of zeal, and so it is with the other; that tbe affec-t tions of the one dispose them to speak much about things of religion, and so do the other ; and that the one delight miicb in religious meetings, and so do the other. The agreement which appears in these, and similar things, makes them conclude that surely all is alike, all is the same work. Whereas, on a closer inspection and more critical examination, it would appear, that notwithstanding an agreement in such circumstances, yet, in* deed, there is a vast difference, both in essence and/mux. A considerable part of the religious operations that were ax or seven years ago, especially towards the latter part of that extrt'

ordinary season, was doubtless of the same sort with the religion of the Separatists ; but not all: there were many whose experiences were like Brainerd^s, in a judgment of charity, genuine and incontestable.

Not only do the opposers of all religion which consists in powerful operations and atfections, thus confound things; but many of the pretenders to such religion do the same. They who have been the subjects of some sort of vehement, but vain operations on their minds, when they hear the experiences of some real and eminent Christians related, say, that their experiences are of the same sort; and that they are just like the experiences of eminent christians in former times, of which we have printed accounts. So, I doubt not, but that there are many deluded people, who reading the preceding account of Brainerd^s life, without much understanding or careful observation, would say without hesitation, that some things which they have met with are of the very same kind with what he expresses; when the agreement is only in some general circumstances^ or some particular things which are superficial, and belonging as it were to the profession and outside of religion ; but the inward temper of mind, and the fruits in practice, are as opposite and distant as east and west.

Many honesty good people also, and true Christians^ do not very well know how to make a difference. The glistering appearance of false religion dazzles their eyes; and they sometimes are so deluded by it, that they look on some of these impressions which hypocrites tell of, as the brightest experiences. And though they have experienced no such things themselves, they think it is because they are vastly lower in attainments, and but babes in comparison of these flaming christians. Yea, sometimes from their differing so much from those who make so great a show, they doubt whether they have any grace at all. And it is a hard thing, to bring many well meaning people to make proper distinctions in this case; and especially to maintain-and stand by them. Through a certain weakness, under which they unhappily labour, they are liable to be overcome with the glare of outward appearances. Thus, if in a sedate hour, they are by reasoning brought to allow such and such distinctions, yet the next time they come in the way of the great show of false religion, the dazzling appearance swallows them up, and they are carried away. Thus the devil by his cunning artifices, easily dazzles the sight of men, and puts them beyond the capacity of a proper exercise of consideration, or hearkening to the dictates of calm thought, and cool understanding. When they

Grceive the great atfection, earnest talk, strong voice, assured >ks, vast confidence, and bold assertions, of these empty, assuming pretenders, they are overborne, lose the possession of their judgment, and say, " Surely these men are in the right;

God is with them of a truth ;" and so they are carried away, not with light and reason, but, like children, as it were with a strong wind.

This confounding of all things together, which have a fair show, is but acting the part of a child, who going into a shop where a variety of wares are exposed to sale—all of a shining appearance'; vessels of gold and silver; diamonds and other precious stones; toys of little value, which are of some base metal gilt;

flass polisned and painted with some curious colours, or cut like iamonds, &c.—should esteem all altke^ and give as great a price for the vile as for the precious. Or it is like the conduct of some.unskilful, rash person, who finding himself deceived by some of the wares which he had bought at that shop, should at once conclude that all which he there saw was of no value; and pursuant to such a conclusion, when afterwards he has true gold and diamonds offered him, enough to enrich him and enable jtim to live like a prince all his days, he should throw it all into the sea.

But we must get into another way. The want of distinguishing in things which appertain to experimental religion, is one of the chief miseries of the professing world. It is attendekl with very many most dismal consequences; multitudes of souls are fatally deluded about themselves, and their own state; and thus are eternally undone. Hypocrites are confirmed in their delusions, and exceedingly puffed up with pride; many sincere christians are dreadfully perplexed, darkened, tempted, and drawn aside from the way of duty; and sometimes sadly tainted with false religion, to the great dishonour of Christianity, and hurt of their own souls. Some of the most dangerous and pernicious enemies of religion in the world, [though called bright christians] are encouraged and honoured, who ought to be discountenanced and shunned by every body; and prejudices are begotten and confirmed in vast multitudes, against every thing in which the power and essence of godliness consists; and in the end, Deism and Atheism are promoted.

REFLECTION III.

The foregoing account of Braixerd's life may convince us, that there is indeed such a thing as true experimental religion^ arising from an immediate divine influence, supernaturally enlightening and convincing the mind, and powerfully impressing, quickening, sanctifying, and governing the heart; which religion is indeed an amiable thing, of happy tendency, and of no hurtful consequence to human society ; notwithstanding there having been so many pretences and appearances of what is called experimental, vital religion, which have proved to be nothing but vain, pernicious enthusiasm.

t( any insist, that Brainebd^s religion was mere enthusiasm^ the result of a heated imagination, I would ask. What were the fruits of his enthusiasm ? In him we behold a great degree of honesty and simplicity; sincere and earnest desires and endea* vours to know and do whatever is right, and to avoid every thing that is wrong; a high degree of love to God ; delight in the per« fections of his nature, placing the happiness of life in him, not only in contemplating him, but in being active in pleasing, and spring him; a firm and undoubting belief in the Messiah, as the Saviour of the world, the great prophet of God, and King of the church, together n^nth great love to him, delight and complacence in the way of salvation by him, and longing for the enlargement of his kingdom; earnest desires that God may be glorified and the Messiah^s kingdom advanced, whatever instruments are employed; uncommon resignation to the will of God, and that under vast trials; and great and universal benevolence to mankind, reaching all sorts of persons without distinction, manifested in sweetness of speech and behaviour, kind treatment, mercy, liberality, and earnest seeking the good of the souls and bodies of men. All this we behold attended with extraordinary humility, meekness, furgiveness of injuries, and love to enemies, and a great abhorrence of a contrary spirit and practice ; not only as appearing in others, but in himself; causing the most bitter repentance, and brokenness of heart on account of any past instances of such a conduct In him we see a modest, discreet, and decent deportment, among superiors, inferiors, and equals; a most diligent improvement of time; earnest care to lose no part of it; and great watchfulness against all sorts of sin, of heart, speech, and action. This example and these endeavours we see attended with most happy fruits, and blessed eflfects on others, in humanizing, civilizing, and wondeiiuily reforming and tAnsforming some of the most brutish savages ; idle, immoral, drunkards, murderers, gross idolaters, and wizards ; bringing th^m to permanent sobriety, diligence, devotion, honesty, conscientiousness, and charity. The foregoing virtues and successful labours, all end at last in a marvellous peace, immoveable stability, calmness and resignation, in the sensible approaches of death: with longing for the heavenly state; not only P>r the honours and circumstantial advantages of it, but above all, fr^r the moral perfection, and holy and blessed employments of it. These things are seen in a person indisputably of good understanding and judgment. I therefore say, if all these things are the fruits of enthusiasm, why shoidd not enthusiasm be thought a desirable and excellent thing ? For what can true religion, what can the best philosophy, do more ? • If vapours and fanaticism will bring men to the most thorough virtue, to the most benign and fruitful morality ; and will maintain it through a course of life attended with many

trials, without affectation or self-exaltation, and with an earnest^ constant testimony against the wildness, the extravagances, the bitter zeal, assuming behaviour, and separating spirit of en« thusiasts; and will do all this more effectually, than any thing else has ever been done in any plain known instance that can be produced : what cause then has the world to prize and to pray for these benign vapours^ and this blessed fanaticism !

It would perhaps be a prejudice with some against the whole of BaAiBfERD^s religion, if it had begun in the time of the late religious commotion; being ready to conclude, however unreasonable, that nothing good could take its rise from those times. But it was not so; his conversion was before that eventt in a time of general deadness ; and therefore at a season when it was impossible, that he should receive a taint from any cor* rupt notions, examples, or customs, which originated at that period.

There are many who are not professed opposers of expert" mental religion^ who yet doubt its reality from the bad Iwes of some professors; and are ready to determine that there is nothing m regeneration^ self'abasement^ and a cordial acceptance of Christ ; because many who pretend to these things, and are thousht by others to have been the subjects of them, manifest no abiding alteration in their moral disposition and behaviour, are as careless, carnal, and covetous, as ever; yea, some much worse than ever. It is to be acknowledged and lamented, that this is the case with some; but by the preceding account they must be sensible, that it is not so with all. There are some indisputable instances of such a change, as the scripture speaks of; an abiding great change, a " renovation of the spirit of the mind," and a '' walking in newness of life." In the foregoing instance particularly, they may see the abiding influence of such a work of conversion, as they have he&rd of from the word of God ; thi- fruits of such experiences through a course of years ; under a great variety of circumstances, many changes of state, place and company ; and may see the blessed issue and event of it in life and death.

REFLECTION IV,

The preceding history serves to confirm those doctrines usually called the doctrines of grace. For if it be allowed that there is truth, substance, or value in the main of Brainerd^s religion, it will undoubtedly follow, that those doctrines are divine ; since it is evident, that the whole of it from beginning to end, is according to that scheme of things; all built on those apprehensions, notions and views, which are produced and established in the mind by those doctrines. He was brought by doctrines of this kind to his awakening, and deep concern

about things of a spiritual and eternal nature ; by these doc-trines his convictions were maintained*and carried on; and his coii>veF8ion was evidently altogether agreeable to this scheme, bat by no means agreeing with the contrary, and utterly inconsistent with the Arminian notion of conversion or repentance. His conversion was plainly founded in a clear strong conviction, and undoubting persuasion of the truth of those things appertaining to these doctrines, against which Arminians most object, and about which his own mind had contended most. His conversion was no confirming and perfecting of moral prin-cnples and habits, by use and practice, and industrious discipline, together with the concurring suggestions and conspiring aids of God's Spirit; but entirely a supernatural work, at once turning him from darkness to marvellous light, and from the power of sin to the dominion of divine and holy principles. It was an effect, in no respect produced by his strength or labour, or obtained by his virtue; and not accomplished till he was first brought to a full conviction, that all his own virtue, strength, labours, and endeavours, could never avail any thing towards producing or procuring this effect.

A very little while before, his mind was full of the same cavils against the doctrines of God's sovereign grace, which are made by Arminians; and his heart full even of opposition to them. God was pleased to perform this good work in him, just after a full end had been put to this cavilling and opposition ; and after he was entirely convinced, that he was dead in sin, and was in the hands of God, as the absolutely sovereign, unobliged, sole disposer and author of true holiness. God's showing him mercy at such a time, is a confirmation, that this was a preparation for mercy; and consequently, that these things which he was convinced of, were true. While he opposed, he was the subject of no such mercy; though he so earnestly sought it, and prayed for it with so much care, and strictness in religion; but when once his opposition is fully subdued, and he is brought to submit to the truths, which he before had opposed, with full conviction, then the mercy he sought for is granted, with abundant light, great evidence, and exceeding joy; and he reaps the sweet fruit of it all his life after, and in the valley of the shadow of death.

In his conversion, he was brought to see the glory of that way of salvation by Christ, which is taught in what are called the doctrines of grace ; and thenceforward, with unspeakable joy and complacence, to embrace and acquiesce in that way of salvation. He was, in his conversion, in all respects, brought to those views, and that state of mind, which these doctrines show to be necessary. If his conversion was any real conversion, or any thing besides a mere whim ; and if the religion of his life was any thing else but the freaks of a bewildered fancv t

Vol. X, 55

then Uiia one grand principle, on which dependa the whole difler-cnce between CalviniMs and Arminians, is undeniable, vix. that the grace or virtue of truly good men, not only dilTers from the virtue of others in degree, but even in nature and kirtd. If ever Bkainehd was truly turned from sin to God at all, or ever became truly religious; none can reasonably doubt but that his conversion was at the time when he supposed it to be. The chanse which he then met with, was evidently the greatest moral change that he ever experienced ; and he was then apparently first brought to thai kind of religion, that remarkable new habit and temper of mind, which he held all his life after. The narration shows it lo be different in nature and kind, from all of which he was ever the subject before. It was evidently wrought at once without fitting and preparing his mind, by gradually convincing it more and more of the same truths, and bringing it nearer and nearer to such a temper. It was soon after his mind had been remarkably full of blasphemy, and a vehement e-xercise of sensible enmity against God, and great opposition to tho^e truths which he was now brought with Itis whole soul to embrace, and rest in as divine and glorious; truths, in the contemplation and improvement of wnich, be placed his happiness. He himself, who was surely best able to judge, declares, that the dispositions and affections, which were then given him and thenceforward maintained in him, were most sensibly and certainly, altogether different in their nature, from all of which he was ever the subject before, or of which he ever had any conception. In this he was peremptory, even to his death. He must be looked upon as capable of judging; be had opportunity to know; he had practised a ^eat deal of religion before, was exceedingly strict and conscientious, and hotTcontinued so for a long time; and had various religious affections, with which he often flattered himself, and Sometimes pleased himself as being now in a good estate. After he had those new experiences, which began in his conversion, tliey were continued to the end of his life; long enough for him thoroughly to observe their nature, and compare tnem with what had been before. Doubtless he was compos mentis ; and was at least one of so good an understanding and judgment, as to be pretty well capable of discerning and comparing the things irtiicb passed in his own mind.

It is further observable, that his religion all along operated in such a manner as tended to confirm his mind in the doctrines of God's absolute sovereignty, man's universal and entire dependence on God's power and grace," &c. The more his religion prevailed in his heart, and the fuller he was of divine love, and of clear and delightfiil views of spiritual things, and the more his heart was engaged in God's service ; the more sensible he was of the certainty and the excellency and importance of

these truths, and the more he was affected with them, and rejoiced in them. He declares particularly, that, when he lay for a long while on the verge of the eternal world, often expecting to be in that world in a few minutes, yet at the same time enjoying great serenity of mind, and clearness of thought, and being most apparently in a peculiar manner at a distance from an enthusiastical frame ; he " at that time saw clearly the truth of thoSe great doctrines of the gospel, which are justly stiled the doctrines ofgrace^ and never felt himself so capable of demonstrating the truth of them."

Hence it is very evident, that Brainerd's religion was wholly correspondent to what is called the Calvinistic scheme^ and was the effect of those doctrines applied to his heart: and certainly it cannot be denied, that the effect was good, unless we turn Athiests, or Deists.—I would ask, whether there be any such thing, in reality, as Christian devotion ? If there be, what is it ? —What is its nature ?—and What its just measure ? Should it not be in a great degree ? —We read abundantly in scripture of " loxnng God with all the heart, with all the soul, with all the mind, and with all the strength ; of delighting in God, of rejoicing in the Lord, rejoicing with joy unspeakable and full of glory; the soul magnifying the Lord, thirsting for God, hungering and thirsting after righteousness ; the soul breaking for the longing it hath to God's judgments, praying to God with groan-ings that cannot be uttered, mourning for sin with a broken heart and contrite spirit," &c. How full is the book of Psalms, and other parts of scripture, of such things as these! Now wherein do these things, as expressed by and appearing in Brainerd, either the things themselves, or their effects and fruits, differ from the scripture representations ? To these things he was brought by that strange and wonderful transformation of the man, which he called his conversion^ Does not this well agree with what is so often said in the Old Testament and the New, concerning " giving a new heart, creating a right spirit, being renewed in the spirit of the mind, being sanctified throughout, becoming a new creature ?" etc. Now where is there to be found an Arminian conversion or repentance, consisting in so great and admirable a change ? Can the Armi-nians produce an instance, within this age, and so plainly within our reach and view, of such a reformation, such a transformation of a man to scriptural devotion, heavenly mindedness, and true christian morality, in one who before lived without these things, on the basis of their principles, and through the influence of their doctrines ?

Here we ought to consider the effect of these doctrines not only on Brainerd himself, but also on others^ whom he taught. It is abundantly pretended and asserted of late, that these doctrines tend to undermine the very foundations of all religion

and morality, and to enervate and vacate all reasonable motives to the exercise and practice of them ; and lay invincible stumbling-blocks before infidels, to hinder their embracing Christianity ; and that the contrary doctrines are the fruitfifl principles of virtue and goodness, set religion on its right basis, represent it in an amiable light, give its motives their fiill force, and recommend it to the reason and common sense of mankind.— But where can they find an instance of so great and signal an effect of their doctrines, in bringing infidels, who were at such a distance from all that is civil, sober, rational, and Christian, and so full of inveterate prejudices against these things, to such a degree of humanity, civility, exercise of reason, self-denial, and Christian virtue 1 Arminians place religion in morcdity. Let them then bring an instance of their doctrines producing such a transformation of a people in point of morality. It is strange, if the all-wise God so orders things in his providence, that reasonable and proper means^ and his own means which he himself has appointed, should in no known remarkable instance be instrumental to produce so good an effect: an effect so agreeable to his own word and mmd, and that very effect for which he appointed these excellent means; that they should not be so successful, as those means which are not his own, but very contrary to them, and of a contrary tendency ; means that are in themselves very absurd, and tend .to root all religion and virtue out of the world, to promote and establish infidelity, and to lay an insuperable stumbling-block before Pagans, to hinder their embracing the gospel: I say, if this be the true state of the case, it is certainly wonderful, and an event worthy of some attention.

I know, that many will be ready to say, " It is too soon yet to glory in the work, which has been wrought among Brainerd's Indians; it is best to wait and see the final event; it may be, all will come to nothing by and by." To which I answer, not to insist, that it will not follow, accordiRg to Arminian principles, that they are not now true Christians, really pious and fodly, though they should fall away and come to nothing, that never supposed, every one of those Indians, who in profession, renounced their Heathenism and visibly embraced Christianity, and have had some appearance of piety, will finally prove true converts. If two-thirds, or indeed one-half of them, as great a proportion as there is in the parable of the ten virgins^ should persevere ; it will be sufficient to show the work wrought among them to have been truly admirable and glorious. But so much of permanence of their religion has already appeared, as shows it to be something else besides an Indian humour or good mood, or any transient effect in the conceits, notions and affections of these i^orant people, excited at a particular crisis, by artfiil management. It is now more than three years ago, that this

work began among them, and a remarkable change appeared in many of them ; since which time the number of visible ccm-verts has greatly increased: and by repeated accounts, from several hands, they still generally persevere in diligent religion and strict virtue. I think, a letter from a young gentleman, a candidate for the ministry, one of those before mentioned, ap* pointed by the honourable commissioners in Boston, as missionaries to the Heathen of the Six Nations, worthy of insertion here. He, by their order, dwelt with Mr. John Brainerd among these Christian Indians, in order to their being prepared for the business of their minion. The letter was written from thence, to bis parents here in Northampton, and is as follows:—

Bethel, New-Jersej/y Jan. 14, 1748.

Honoured and dear Parents^

" After a long and uncomfortable journey, by reason of bad weather, I arrived at Mr. Brainerd's, the sixth instant; where I design to stay this winter: and as yet, upon many accounts, am well satisfied with my coming hither. The state and circumstances of the Indians, spiritual and temporal, much exceed what I expected. I have endeavoured to acquaint myself with the state of the Indians in general, with particular perilous, and with the school, as much as the short time I have been here would admit. Notwithstanding my expectations were very much raised, from Mr. David Brainerd's Journal, and from particular information from him ; yet I must confess, that in many respects, they are not equal to that which now appears to me to be true, concerning the glorious work of divine grace among the Indians.

" The evening after I came to town, I had opportunity to see the Indians together, while the Rev. Mr. Arthur preached to them : at which time there appeared a very general and uncommon seriousness and solemnity in the congregation. This appeared to me to be the effect of an inward sense of the importance of divine truths, and not because they were hearing a stranger; which was abundantly confirmed to me the next Sabbath, when there was the same devout attendance on divine service, and a surprising solemnity appearing in the performance of each part of divine worship. Some, who are hopefully true Christians, appear to have been at that time much enlivened and comforted ; not from any observable commotions then, but from conversation afterwards; and others seemed to be under pressing concern for their souls. I have endeavoured to acquaint myself with particular persons ; many of whom seem to be very humble and growing Christians ; although some of them, as 1 am informed, were before their conversion most monstrously wicked.

" Religious conversation seems to be veiy pleasing and delightful to many, and especially that which relates to the exercises of the heart. And many here do not seem to be real Christians only, but growing Christians also; as well in doctrinal, as experimental knowledge. Beside my conversation with j>articular persons, I have had opportunity to attend upon one of Mr. Brain£rd^s catechetical lectures; where I was sur-

Erised at their readiness in answering questions to which they ad not been used ; although Mr. Brain£rd complained much of their uncommon deficiency. It is surprising to see this pec- ^ pie, who not long since were led captive by Satan at his will, and living in the practice of all manner of abominations, without the least sense even of moral honesty, yet now living soberly and regularly, and not seeking every man his own, but every man in some sense, his neighbour's good; and to see those, who, but a little while past, knew nothing of the true God, now worshipping him in a solemn and devout manner; not only in public, but in their families, and in secret; which is manifestly the case, it being a difficult thing to walk out in the woods in the morning, without disturbing persons at their secret devotion. It seems wonderful, that this should be the case, not only with adult persons, but with children also. It is observable here, that many children, (if not the children in general) retire into secret places to pray. And, as far as at present I can judge, this is not the effect of custom and fashion, but of real seriousness and thoughtfulness about their souls.

" I have frequently gone into the school, and have spent considerable time there amongst the children ; and have been surprised to see, not only their diligent attendance upon the business of the school, but also the proficiency they have made in it, in reading and writing, and in their catechisms of divers sorts. It seems to be as pleasing and as natural to these children to have books in their hands, as it does for many others to be at play. I have gone into a house where there has been a number of children accidentally gathered together; and observed that every one had his book in his hand, and was diligently studying it. About thirty of these children, can answer all the questions in the assembly's catechism ; and the greater part of them are able to do it with the proofs, to the fourth commandment. I wish there were many such schools; 1 confess, that I never was acquainted with such an one, in many respects. Oh that what God has done here, may prove to be the beginning of a far more glorious and extensive work of grace among the Heathen I " I am your obedient and dutiful son,

" JOB STRONG.

" P. S. Since the date of this, I have had an opportunity to attend upon another of Mr. Brainerd's catechetical lectures :

and truly I was convinced, that Mr. Brainerd did not complain before of his people's defects in answering to questions proposed, without reason; for although their answers at that time exceeded my expectations very much: yet their performances at this lecture very much exceeded them."

Since this, we have had accounts from time to time, and some very late, which show that religion still continues in prosperous and most desirable circumstances among these Indians.

REFLECTION V.

Is there not much in the preceding memoirs of Brainerd to teach, and excite to duty, us who are called to the work of the ministry and all who are candidates for that great work ? What a deep sense did he seem to have of the greatness and importance of that work, and with what weight did it lie on his mind! How sensible was he of his own insufficiency for this work; and how great was his dependence on God's sufficiency! How solicitous, that he might be fitted for it! and to this end, how much time did he spend in prayer and fasting, as well as reading cmd meditation; giving himself to these things ! How did he dedicate his whole life, all his powers and talents to God; and forsake and renounce the world, with all its pleasing and ensnaring enjoyments, that he might be wholly at liberty to serve Christ in this work; and to " please him who had chosen him to be a soldier, under the captain of our salvation." With what solicitude, solemnity, and diligence, did he devote himself to God our Saviour, and seek his presence and blessing in secret, at the time of his ordination ! and how did his whole heart appear to be constantly engaged, his whole time employed, and his whole strength spent in the business he then solemnly undertook and to which he was publicly set apart!— His history shows us the right way to success in the work of the ministry. He sought it, as a resolute soldier seeks victory, in a siege or battle ; or as a man who runs a race, seeks a great

Erize. Animated with love to Christ and the souls of men, ow did he " labour always fervently," not only in word and doctrine, in public and private, biit in prayers day and night, " wrestling with God" in secret, and " travailing in birth," with unutterable groans and agonies, " until Christ were formed" in the hearts of the people to whom he was sent! How did he thirst for a blessing on his ministry; " watch for souls, as one that must give account!" How did he "go forth in the strength of the Lord God ;" seeking and depending on a special influence of the Spirit to assist and succeed him! What was the happy fruit at last, though after long waiting, and many dark and discouraging appearances ? Like a true son

of Jacob, he persevered iu wrestling, throu^ all the itairkiwy of the night, until the breaking of the day.

His example of labouring, praying, denjring himseli^ and en-during hardness with unfainting resolution and patience, and his faithful, vigilant, and prudent conduct in many other req>edi [which it would be too long now particularly to recite,] may afford instruction to missionaries in particular.

REFLECTION VI.

The foregoing account of Brainerd^s life may afford instruction to Christians in general; as it shows in many respects, the right way of practising religion, in order to obtain the ends^ and receive the benefits of it; or how Christians should ^^ run the race set before them," if they would not " run in vain, or run as uncertainly," but would honour God in the world; adorn their profession, be serviceable to mankind, have the comforts of religion while they live, be free from disquieting doubts and dark apprehensions about the state of their souls, enjoy peace in the approaches of death, and'^finish their course with joy." In generd, he much recommended, for this purpose, the reaemp-tionaftime, great diligence in the business of the Christian life, watchfulness^ &c. and he very remarkably exemplified these things.

Particularly, his example and success with regard to one duty in an especial manner, may be of great use to both ministers and private Christians; I mean the duty of secret fasting. The reader has seen, how much Brainerd recommends this duty, and how frequently he exercised himself in it; nor can it well have escaped observation, how much he was owned and blessed in it, and of what great benefit k evidently was to his soul. Among all the many days he spent in secret fasting and prayer, of which he gives an account in his diary ^ there is scarcely an instance of one which was not either attended or soon followed with apparent success, and a remarkable blessing, in special influences and consolations of God's Spirit; and very often, before the day was ended. But it must be observed, that when he set about this duty, he did it in good earnest; " stirring up himself to take hold of God," and " continuing instant in prayer," with much of the spirit of Jacob, who said to the angel," 1 will not let thee go, except thou bless me."

REFLECTION Vll.

There is much in the preceding account to excite and encourage God's people to earnest prayer and endeavours for the advancement and enlargement of the kingdom of Christ in the /vorld. Brainerd set us an excellent example in this respect.

He sought the prosp^ity of Zion with all his might; an^ preferred Jerusalem above bis chief joy. How did his soul long for.it, and pant after it.! how earnestly and often did be wrestle with God for it! and how far did he, in these desires and prayers, seem to be carried beyond all private and selfish views I hieing animated by a pure love to Christ, an earnest desire of his glory, and a disinterested affection to the souls of mankind.

The consideration of this, not only ought to be an incitement to the people of God< but may also oe a just encouragement Xq them, to be much in seeking and praying for a general outpouring of the Spirit of God, and an extensive revival of religion. I confess, that God^s giving so much of a spirit of prayer for this mercy to so eminent a servant of his, and exciting him, in so extraordinary a manner, and with such vehement tliirstings of soul, to ag^onize in prayer for it, from time to time, through the course oi bis life, is one thing among others, which gives me gi:eat hope that God has a design of accomplishing something very glorious for the interest of his church oefore long. One such mstance as this, I conceive, gives more encouragement, than the common, cold, formal prayers of thousands. As Brain-«RD^s desires and prayers for the coming of Christ^s kingdom, were special and extraordinary ; so, I think we may reasonably hope, that the God who excited those desires and prayers, will answer them with something special and extraordinary. And in a particular manner do I think it worthy of notice for our encouragement, that he had his heart, [as he declared,] unusually drawn out in longings and prayers for the flourishing of Christ's kingdom on earth, when he was in the approaches oi death ; and that with his dying breath, he breathed out his departing soul into the bosom of his Redeemer, in prayers and pantings after the glorious event; expiring in very great hope, that it would soon begin to be fulfilled. I wish that the thoughts which he in bis dying state expressed of that explicit agreement, and visible union of God's people, in extraordinary prayer for a general revival of religion, lately proposed in a memorial to Scotland, which has been dispersed among us, may be well considered by those who hitherto have not seen fit to fall in with that pro^ posal.—But I forbear to say any more on this head, having already published my thoughts upon it, in a discourse written on purpose to promote that affair; with which, I confess, I wish that every one of my readers might be supplied; not that my honour, but that this excellent design might be promoted.

As there is much in Brainerd's life to encourage Christians to seek the advancement of Christ's kingdom, in general: sa there is in particular, to pray for the conversion of the Indians on this continent, and to ex^ themselves in the use of proper means for its accomplishment. It appears, that he, in his unutterable longings and wrestlings of seal for the flourishing or

Vot, X. 58

religion, had his mind peculiarly intent on the conversion and salvation of these people, and his heart more especially engaged in prayer for them. If we consider the degree and manner in which he from time to time, sought and hoped for an extensive work of grace among them, I think, we have reason to hope, that the wonderful things, which God wrought among them by him, are but a forerunner of something yet much more glorious and extensive of that kind. This may justly be an encouragement, to well disposed charitable persons, to " honour the Lord with their substance,'' by contributing, as they are able, to promote the spreading of the gospel among them. This also may incite and encourage gentlemen, who are incorporated and intrusted with the care and disposal of those liberal benefactions, which have already been made by pious persons to that end; and likewise the missionaries themselves, that are or may be employed; and it may be of direction unto both, as to the pro-

Eer qualifications of missionaries, and the proper measures to e taken in order to their success.

One thing I would particularly propose to the consideration of such as have the care of providing and sending missionaries among savages; viz. Whether it would not ordinarily be best to send two together ? It is pretty manifest, that Brainebd's going, as he did, alone into the howling wilderness, was one great occasion of a prevailing melancholy on his mind ; which was his greatest disadvantage. He spoke much of it himself, when he was here in his dying state; and expressed himself, to this purpose, that none could conceive of the disadvantage a missionary in such circumstances was under, by being alone ; especially as it exposed him to discouragement and melancholy. He spoke of the wisdom of Christ in sendmg forth his disciples by two and two; and left it as his dying advice to his brother, never to go to Susquehannah, to travel about in that remote wilderness, to preach to the Indians there, as he had often done, without the company of afelloio missionary.

REFLECTION VIII.

One thing more may not be unprofitably observed in the preceding account of Brainerd ; and that is the special and remarkable disposal of divine providence, with regard to the circumstances of his last sichiess and death.

Though he had been long infirm, his constitution being much broken by his fatigues and hardships; and though he was often brought very low by illness before he left Kaunaumeek\ and also while he lived at the Forks of Delaware ; yet his life was preserved, till he had seen that which he had so long and greatly desired and sought, a glorious work of grace among the Indians.

and had received the wished for blessincr of God on his labours. Though as it were " in deaths oft," yet he lived to behold the happy fruits of the long continued travail of his soul and labour of his body, in the wonderful conversion of many of the heathen, and the happy effects of it in the great change of their conversation, with many circumstances which afforded a fair prospect of the continuance of God's blessing upon them ; as may appear by what I shall presently further observe.—Thus he did not "depart till his eyes had seen God's salvation."

Though it was the pleasure of God, that he should be taken off from his labours among that people to whom God had made him a spiritual father, who were so dear to him, and for whose spiritual welfare he was so greatly concerned ; yet this was not before they were well initiated and instructed in the Christian religion, thoroughly weaned from their old heathenish and brutish notions and practices, and all their prejudices and jealousies, which tended to keep their minds unsettled, were nilly removed. They were confirmed and fixed in the Christian faith and manners; were formed into a church ; had ecclesiastical ordinances and discipline introduced and settled ; were brought into a good way with respect to the education of children ; bad a schoolmaster excellently qualified for the business; and had a school set up and established, in good order, among them. They had been well brought off from their former idle, strolling, sottish way of living; had removed from their former scattered uncertain habitations, were collected in a town by themselves, on a good piece of land of their own ; were introduced into the way of living by husbandry ; and had begun to experience the benefits of it. These things were but just brought to pass by his indefatigable application and care; and then he was taken off from his work by illness. If this had been but a little sooner, they would by no means have been so well prepared for such a dispensation; and it probably would have been unspeakably more to the hurt of their spiritual interest, and of the cause of Christianity among them.

The time and circumstances of his illness were so ordered, that he had just opportunity to finish his Journal, and prepare it for press ; giving an account of the marvellous display of divine power and grace among the Indians in New-Jersey^ and at the Forks of Delaware, His doing this was of great consequence and therefore urged upon him by the correspondents who have honoured his Journal with a preface. The world being particularly and justly informed of that affar by Brainerd before his death, a foundation was hereby laid for a concern in others for that cause, and proper care and measures to be taken for maintaining it after his death. It has actually proved to be of great influence and benefit in this respect; for it has excited and engaged many in those parts, and also more distant parts of

America, to exert themselves for upholdiog and piomoting ibe good and glorious work, remarkably opening their hearts and bands to thai end: and not only in America, but in Great Britain, (hat Journal, which I have earnestly recommended to mj readers, has been an occasion of some large benofactionB, madie for promoting the interest of Christianity among the Indiaofi.— IfBRAiNEKD nadbeen taken ill but a little sooner, he had notbeen ableto complete his Journal, and prepare a copy for the press. He was not taken ofTfromthe workof the ministry among luB people, till his brother was in a capacity and circumstances to succeed him in his care of them ; who succeeds him in the like spirit, and under whce prudent and faithful care his congregation has flourished, and been very happy, since he IcH them; and frobably could not have been so well provided for otherwise, f Brainero had been disabled sooner, his brother would by no means have been ready to stand up in his place; having takes his first degree at college but about that very time that he was seized with his fatal consumption.

Though in that winter in which he lay sick at Mr. Dickinson's, in Elizabeth-Town, he continued for a long time in an extremely low state, so that his life was almost despaired of, and bis state was sometimes such that it was hardly expected that he would live a day; yet his life was spared a while longer; he lived to see his brother arrived in New-Jersey, beine come to succeed him in the care of his Indians; and he himself had opportunity to assist in his examination and introduction into his business: and to commit the conduct of his dear people to one whom he well knew, and could put confidence in, and use freedom with, in giving him particular instructions and charges, and under whose care he could leave his congregation with greet cbeerfiilaeM;^ The providence of God was remarkable in so ordoiog it,tfattt before his death he should take ajourney in New-Englaiid, vnd [O to Boston; which was, in many respects, of very gretat and lappy consequence to the interest of reiigioo, and e^peeid^ among his own people. By this means, asDefwe observed, M was brought in acquaintance with many persom of Bote aod influence, ministers and others, belonging both to the town and various parts of the country; and had opportunity, ondec the best advantages, to bear a testimony for God and true religion, and against those false appearances of it which have pro-ved most pernicious to the interest of Christ's kingdom in tbe land. The providence of God is particularly observable in thii circumstance of the testimony which he there bore for true religion, viz, that he there was brought so near the graoe^ and continued for so long a time on the verv brink -of eternity; and fiom lime to time, looked on himself, ana was looked on by othen, as iust leaving the world; and that in these circumstances be shtnld De so particularly directed and assisted in his thou^la and

Eai

view»of religion, to distinguish between the true and the false, with Mch dearnesB and evidence; and that after this he should be onezpectedly and sorprisinffly restored and strengthened, so filr a* to be able to converse finely. Then he had an opportunity, and specid occasions to declare the sentiments he bad in thrae, which to human apprehension, were his dying circumstances ; and to bear his testimony concerning the nature of tfue reli^on, and concerning the mischievous tendency of its most prevalent counterfeits and false appearances; as things he htta a special, clear, distinct view of at that time, when he expected in a few minutes to be in eternity; and the certainty and importance of which were then, in a peculiar manner, impressed on his mind.

Among the happy consequences of his going to Boston, were thOUe liberal benefactions that have been mentioned, which were made by piously disposed persons, for maintaining and promoting the interest of religion among his people; andsJso the meeting of a number of gentlemen inSosfon, of note and ability to consult upon measures for that purpose; who were excited by their acquamtance and conversation with Brainerd, and by the account of the great things which God had wrought by his ministry, to unite themselves, that by their joint endeavours and contributions they might promote the kingdom of Christ, and the smritual good of their fellow-creatures, among the Indians in New-Jersey; and elsewhere.

It was also remarkable, that Brainerd should go to Boston at thai <tme, after the honourable commissioners there, of the corporation in London for propagating the gospel in New-Englwd and parts adjacent, nad received Dr. Williams^ legacy for maintaining two missionaries among the heathen; and at a time when they, naving concluded on a mission to the Indians of the Six Nations, were looking out for fit persons to be em-pk^ed in that important service. This was the occasion of their committing to him the affair of finding and recommending suitable persons; which has proved a successful means of two persons being found and actually appointed to that business, who seem to be well qualified for it, and to have their hearts greaUy engaged in it. One of them has been solemnly ordained to that work in Boston, and is now gone forth to one of those tribes, who have appeared well disposed to receive him; it being judsed not convenient for the other to so till the next spring, by reason of his bodily infirmity.'^ These happy consequences of Brainerd's journey to Boston would have been

* The appointment of these genflemen to this misBion has been hitherto much smiled on by providence; as in other respects, so particularly in wonderfully opening the hearts of many to contribute liberally to so excellent a design. Beside the bene&ctions in Boston, a number of persons at Northampton, with mudh cheerfOlness, have given about 160Z. (old tenor); and a particular person in Springfield has devoted a considerable part of his estate to this interest.

ia. case he had died when lie was broiiglit »i» new to deatb in New-Jersey. Or, it' after he cnmc to Nortliampton^ wh;ae-li*-m.s much at a lose, and long deliberating, whicfl waj to bntd his course,} he had determined not to go tt

■Hm prondence of God waa obscnabio in his going to Bos-' ton at^tiiiie when not only the honourable commissi oners v,en, ■^eldng muHonaries to the Six Nations, but also just after hit'' joiimaliU'hich gives an account of his labours and succew, ttBong tbe Indians had been received and sj>read in Bosloii. Bifl DUbe was thus known, and the minds*of serious people were well prepured to receive his person, and the testimony he-^ ihan gave fcr God ; to esert themselves for the upholding an^ P^pviotiw ^e interest of religion in his congregation, aai •IVMlg <M Indians elsewhere; and to regard his judgment iQODflietllUU the qualifications nf missionanes. If he had gone^ ^Mfp the bH before,^ when he had intended lo make his joumejf iatp NeW'fi&cland, but was prevented by a sudden great Ist' oreoMof his illness;) or if he had not been unexpectedly detained in BoBton; (for when he went from my house, he intended t* nake \nt a very short stay there,) it would not probably have bew in MiTjueasuro to so good effect; but divine providence, bji^ Ub beingiOFOUght so low there, detained him long;theret^ to.mafcfl waji for the fulfilling his own gracious designs.

The proTidence of God was remarkable in so ordering, that pdtlwngD he was brought so very near the grave in Boston, that it.waanotin tho least ftxpccied he would ever come alive out of hb chamber; yet he was wonderfully revived, and praeened several months longer; so tliat he had opportunity to see, and fiilly to converse with both his younger brothers before be died.' This he greatly desired; especially to see his brother JohD,Witk whom was left the care of his congregation ; that be mif^t Iw him be fully informed of their state, and leave with him ma instructions and directions as were requisite in brdet to tbeir spiritual welfare; and send to them his dying charge, and coon-sela. He had also opportunity, by means of this saspmuioD of of his death, to find and recommend two petsons fit to -beem-ployed as missionaries to the Sis Nations, as had been de* sired of him.

Thus, although it was the pleasure of a sovereign God, that he should be taken away from his eongregation, tbe petmie, whom he had begotten through the gospel, who were bo tfew to him; yet it was granted him, that before he died be should see them well provided for, every way. He saw them provided for, with one to instruct them, and to take care of their souls; his own brother, in whom he could confide. He saw a good foundation laid for the support of the school among tbeo; those things, which before were wanting in order to it, being

supplied. He had the prospect of a charitable society being established, of able and well-disposed persons, who seem to make the spiritual interest of his congregation their own; whereby he had a comfortable view of their being well provided for, for the future. He had also opportunity to leave all his dying charees with his successor in the pastoral care of his people, and by him to send his dying counsels to them. Thus God granted him to see all things happily settled, or in a hopeful way of being so, before his death, with respect to his dear people. ---And whereas not only his own congregation, but the souls of the Indians in North-America in general, were very dear to him, and he had greatly set his heart on propagating and extending the kingdom of Christ among them; God was pleased to grant him—^though not to be the immediate instrument of their instruction and conversion—^yet, that before his death, he shouldsee unexpected extraordinary provisions made for this also. It is remarkable, that God not only allowed him to see such provision made for maintaining the interest of religion among his own people, and the propagation of -it elsewhere; but honoured him by making him the means or occasion of it. So that it is very probable, although Brainerd during the last four months of his life, was ordinarily in an extremely weak and low state, very often scarcely able to speak; yet that he was made the instrument or means of much more good in that space of time, than he would have been if well, and in full strength of body. Thus God^s power was manifested in his weakness^ and the life of Christ was manifested in his mortal flesh.

Another thmg, wherein appears the merciful disposal of providence with respect to his death, was, that he did not die in the wilderness, among the savages, at Kaunaumeek^ or the Forks of JDelaware^ or on the Susquehannah ; but in a place where his dying behaviour and speeches might be observed and remembered, and some account given of them for the benefit of survivors; and where care might be taken of him in his sickness, and proper honours done him at his death.

The providence of God is also worthy of remark, in so overruling and ordering the matter, that he did not finally leave absolute orders for the entire suppressing ofhis private papers ; as he had intended and fully resolved, insomuch that all the irnportu-nity of his friends could scarce restrain him from doing it, when sick at Boston, One thins relating to this is peculiarly remarkable, that his brother, a little before his death, should come unexpectedly from New-Jersey ,and bring his Diary to him,though he had received no such order. Thus he had opportunity of access to these his reserved papers, and of reviewing the same; without which, it appears, he would at last have ordered them to be wholly suppressed; but after this, he the more readily

yielded to the'desires of his friends, and was willing to leave them in their hands to be disposed of as the^ thought might be most for God^s glory. By this means, ^^ he, bemg dead, yet speak-eth,^^ in these memoirs of his life, taken from those private writings ; whereby it is to be hoped that he may still be as it were uie instrument of promoting the interest of religion in this world; the advancement of which he so much desired, and hoped would be accomplished after his death.

If these circumstances of Brainerd^s death be duly considered, I doubt not but they will be acknowledged as a notable instance of God^s fatherlv care, and covenant-faithfulness towards them who are devoted to him, and faithfully serve him while they live; whereby ^^ he never fails nor forsakes them, but is wUh them living and dying; so that whether they live, they live to the Lord; or whether they die, they die to the Lord ;^* and both in life and death they are owned and taken care of as his — ^Brain-ERb himself, as was before observed, was much in tddng notice when near his end, of the merciful circumstances of his death; and said, from time to time, that ^^ God had granted him all his desire."

I would not conclude my observations on the mercifiil circumstances of Brainerd^s death, without acknowledging with thankfulness, the gracious dispensation of providence to me and my family, in so ordering, that he, though the ordinary place of his abode was more than two hundred miles distant, should be brought to my house, in his last sickness, and should die here. Thus we had opportunity for much acquaintance and conversation with him, to show him kindness in such circumstances, to see his dying behaviour, to hear his dying speeches, to receive his dying counsels, and to have the benefit of his dying prayers. May God in infinite mercy grant, that we may ever retain a proper remembrance of these things, and make a due improvement of the advantages we have had, in these respects! The Lord grant also, that the foregoing account of Brainerd^s life and death may be for the great spiritual benefit of all who shall read it, and prove a happy means of promoting the revival of true religion ! Amen.

NOTE.

The reader will not be uninterested in the following letters from Mr. John Bi-ainerd, giving an account of the Indians, after his brother's death.

The first is an Extract from a Letter to his friend in EnglantI, dated,

" Bethel^ Oct. itli, 1752.

" I have now been employed as a missionary among these Indians for above four years and a half, beside officiating for my brother several months during his last sickness. In this space of time the number has considerably increased ; though for more than two years after I came, we were visited with much sickness and great mortality. We have now near forty families belonging to our society; and our church consists of thirty-seven communicants, beside two or three more, who stand as candidates for admission. Our school has sometimes consisted of above fifty children; but the number at present is not altogether so great. I have spent the most of my time, since I have been employed as a missionary, among this people; but have not wholly confined myself to them. I have taken several journies out among the more remote Indians and some to those at a great distance. By this means. With the blessing of God on mv labours, I have persuaded |2unibers to come from distant places and settle here, where they and their children have the advantages of instruction, which I trust have been blest to the saving conversion of some. May the Lord daily increase their number!

** We have a very considerable number of serious regular Christians, who are an ornament to religion; although some, who make a profession, have grievously backslidden. The Lord has preserved and continued a Christiai congregation together, although many attempts, have been made by Satan and his instruments to disperse and destroy it."

After mentioning the obstacles which hinder the conversion of the Indians to Christianity, such as—Their love to strong drink—^Their indolent, wandering, unsteady disposition—The wickedness of some white people, who prejudice them against th^ missionaries—The temptations which the whites throw in their way; some of them buying drink, and giving it gratuitously, to see if they cannot make the Christian Indians drunk —And the want of a more liberal support to the missionaries for carrying them through difficult journies, and taking Christian Indians along with them—£[e proceeds:

^^ I hope and trust, as this work of grace among the Indians comes to be more generally known and spread abroad, there will be a greater plenty of provision for the prevention of the same; and may the Lord hasten the blissfiil time \ —

<^ Upon the whole, though I am feelingly sensible of maay difficulties and discouragements in christianizing the Indians;

Vol. X 57

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450 MEMOIRS OF BRAINERD.

yet I^cannot but think that there has been and still is as much encouragement as could rationally have been expected, before any attempts of this kind were made, and that which is sufficient for us still to act upon, and to make farther attempts of this nature. There is ground to hope that within these seven years last past there have been at least forty persons savingly converted to God even in this small place; wnich at most does not contain above two hundred souls, old and young of all sorts; and were there any sufficiently zealous to go to the more remote places where there are greater numbers of these miserable savages ; who can tell what the Lord would do. What a glorious prospect^might soon open!

" The quarterly days of prayer for the prosperity of Zion are observed by some in these parts, and have been very constantly attended in my congregation ; and some of my people have appeared very affectionate and warmly engaged at such times. May the Lord hear and answer the supplications of his people, and cause his church to arise and nourish and become a praise in the whole earth. I would desire a remembrance in your addresses to the throne of grace for me, for my people, and for the cause of God among the Indians. If you should have leisure, and think it worth while to write, please to direct for me at Bethel, in New-Jersey, to the care of Mr. William Grant, merchant, in Second street, Philadelphia; or to the care of Mr. Denys De Berdt, merchant, in Artillery court, Chiswal street, London.

" I am, &c.

" JOHN BRAINERD."

The second was to the Praesesofthe Society in Scotland, dated

" Bethel, Oct. 22, 1753.

" Since my last to your Lordship, which bears date March 2, 1753, I have steadily attended to the business of the Mission; and have not been absent from my charge except on some necessary occasions, and then only for a short space. 1 have endeavoured to attend strictly to my commissions and instructions; preaching the'gospel; administering the sacraments ; catechising both the grown people and the children ; visiting my people; praying and conversing with the sick; attending funerals; and watching all opportunities to do them good.—I have constantly attended public worship three times on the Lord's day; steadily once, and sometimes more, in the rest of the week. Besides 1 have advised the people, especially of late, to meet, at least one evening in a week at a private house, which they do in the several parts of their town ; sometimes at one house and sometimes at another. This meeting I have generally attended; and carry it on by prayer, singmg of psalms or hymns and re-

ligious conversation. At these meetings I address myself to particular persons; inquire into the state of their souls; warn, exhort, encourage, &c. as I see occasion. When I am absent, the meeting is carried on by religious conversation, together with prayer and singing. My endeavours, through the blessing of heaven,have been,I hope, attended with some degree of success. I have had the satisfaction of admitting one adult person to baptism, who I trust is a true convert to God, and savingly acquainted with Jesus Christ; and sundry children have been the subjects of that divine ordinance. I can also inform your Lordship and the Society that many of our former converts adorn their profession by a sober virtuous life. But some, I must needs say, have grievously backslidden; which has been matter of unspeakable grief to me, and done more to exhaust my spirits and wear me out, than all the bodily fatigues I have ever undergone in the prosecution of this mission."

Afterwards he writes of great difficulties, which the Indians have laboured under of late with regard to their lands;—and of the lamented death of a promising young Indian, whom the Society was educating for the ministry; of whom he says :

" He had been a member of Princeton College nearly two years; was much beloved by his classmates and the other scholars, and made a decent, handsome appearance among them. He died of a quick consumption. I had opportunity of conversing with him in the latter part of his sickness; and though he was under some darkness, yet his discourse was good, and discovered much of the Christian. " I am, &c.

« JOHN BRAINERD."

Chrutians, when absent from the body, are present with the Lord.

^mmmm

PREACHED AT THE FUNERAL OF THE

rev: DAVID BRAIJVERD,

MISSIOJ^jlRY TO THE mDMJ^S,

FROM THE 80CIETT IN SCOTLAND FOR PROPAGATING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE, AND PASTOR OF A CHURCH OF CHRISTIAN INDIANS IN NEW-JERSET ; WHO DIED AT NORTHAMPTON, OCT. 9, 1747, AND WAS INTERRED ON THE 12tH.

By Rev. JONATHAN EDWARDS.

A SERMON.

CHRISTIANS, WHEN ABSENT PROM THE BODY, ARE PRESENT

WITH THE LORD.

II COR. V. 8.

We are confident^ I say^ and willing rather to be absent from the body^ and to be present with the Lord.

The Apostle is here giving a reason why he went on with such immoveable boldness and steadfastness, through such labours, sufferings, and dangers, in the service of the Lord; for which his enemies, the false teachers among the Corinthians, sometimes^reproached him as being beside himself, and driven on by akind of madness. In the latter part of the preceding chapter, he informs the Christian Corinthians, that the reason why he did thus, was, that he firmly believed the promises which Christ had made to his faithful servants of a glorious and eternal reward; and knew that these present afflictions were light, and but for a moment in comparison of that far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.—In this chapter he further insbts on the reason of his constancy in suffering, and exposing himself to death in the work of the ministry, even the more happy state which he expected after death.-^This is the subject of the text; in which we may observe,

1. The gcQ^iFuture Privilege^ for which the Apostle hoped; that of being present with Christ. The words in the original properly signirj^ dwelling with Christy as in the same country or dtyy or making an home with Christ,

2. When the Apostle looked for this privilege; viz. when he should be absent from the btJdy: not to wait for it till the resurrection, when soul and body should be united again. He signifies the same thing in Phil, i.22,23, *^ But if I live in the flesh, this is the fruit of my labour. Yet what I shall choose, I wot not. For I am in a strait between two; having a desire to depart, and to be with Christ''

3. The FaZue which he set on this privilege. For the sake of it, he chose to be absent from the body. It was more pleasing to him, to part with the present life and all its enjoyments, if he might be possessed of this great benefit, than to continue here.

4. The Present Benefit^ which he had by his fiiith and hope of this future privilege, and of his great value for it; viz. that hence he received courage ^ assurance^ and con$tancy of mind; agreeably to tlic proper import of the word which is rendered, we are confident. He is now giving a reason of that fortitude and immoveable stability of mind, with which he went through those extreme labours, liardships, and dangers, which he mentions in this course ; so that, in the midst of all, he did not faint, was not discouraged, but had constant light, and inward support, strength, and comfort in the midst of all; agreeably to the sixteenth verse of the foregoing chapter,^* For which cause, we faint not; but though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day/^ The same is expressed more particularly in the eighth, ninth, and tenth verses of that chapter, " We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed; always bearing about in the body, the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus, might ie made manifest in our mortal flesh." And in the next chap. ver. 4—10," In all things, approving ourselves as the ministers of God, in much patience, in afflictions, in necessities, in distresses, in stripes, in imprisonments, in tumults, in labours, in watchings, in fastings, by pureness, by knowledge, by longsufiering, by kindness, by the Holy Grhost, by love unfeigned, by the word of truth, by the power of God, by the armour of righteousness on the right hand and on the left, by honour and dishonour, by evil report and good report: as deceivers, and yet true; as unknown, and yet well known: as dying, and behold, wc live; as chastened, and not killed; as sorrowful, yet alway rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing all things."

Among the many useful instructions, which might l>e derived from the text, I shall at this time only insist on this:—

The souls of Christians, when they leave the hody^ go to he with Christ.

They do this in the following respects:— I. They go to dwell in the same blessed abode with th<^ glorified Human nature of Christ.

The Human nature of Christ is yet in being. He still continues, and will continue to all eternity, to be both God and man—His whole human nature remains: not only his soul, but also his body. His body rose from the dead; and the same that was raised from the dead is exalted and glorified at God's right hand.—That which was dead is now alive, and lives for evermore.

There is therefore a certain place, a particular part of the external creation, to which Christ is gone, and where he remains* —This place is the heaven of heavens: a place beyond all the visible heavens. Eph. vi. 9. 10, " Now that he ascended, what is it, but that he also desended first into the lower parts of the e^th 7 He that descended, is the same also that ascended up far above all heavens," This is the same which the Apostle calls the third heaven, 2 Cor. xii. 2 ; reckoning the aerial heaven as the first, the starry heaven as the second, and the highest heaven as the third. This is the abode of the holy angels; they are called" the angels of heaven," Matth. xxiv. 36. " The angels which are in heaven," Mark xiii, 32. " The angels of God in heaven," Matth. xxii. 30. and Mark xii. 25. They are said always to behold the face of the " Father which is in heaven," Matth. xviii. 10. They are elsewhere often represented as be-foire the throne of God, or surrounding his throne in heaven, and sent from thence, and descending from thence, on messages to this world. Thjkner it is that the souls of departed saints are conducted, when f hey die.—They are not reserved in an abode distinct from the highest heaven ; a place of rest, which they are kept in, till the day of judgment; which some call the Hades of the happy: but they go directly to heaven itself. This is the saints^ Aome, being theifTather^s house. They are " pilgrims and strangers" on the earth, and this is the " other and better country^' to which they are travelling. Heb. xi. 13—16. This is the city to which they belong. Phillip, iii. 20. " Our conversation, or (as the word properly signifies) citizenship, is in heaven." Therefore this undoubtedly is the place to which the Apostle refers in the text, when he says, " We are willing to forsake our former house, the body, and to dwell in the same house, city or country, wherein Christ dwells;" which is the proper import of the words of the original.—What can this house, or city, or country be, but that house, which is elsewhere spoken of, as their proper home, their Father's house, the city and country to which they properly belong, whither they are travelling all the while they continue in this world, and the house, city, and country where we know the human nature of Christ is; this is the saints' rest; here their hearts are while they live; and here their treasure is:" The inheritance incorruptible, undefiled and that fadeth not away, that is designed for them^ is reserved in heaven;" 1 Pet. i. 4. Therefore they never can have their proper and full rest till they come there. So that undoubtedly their souls, when absent from the body, (when the scripture represent them as in a state of perfect rest) arrive there—^Those two saints, who left this world, to go to their rest in another world without dying, viz. Enoch and Elijah, went to heaven.—Elijah was seen ascending up to heaven, as Christ was; and to the same resting place, is there all reason to think, to which those

Vol. X, 5« •

gaints go, who leave the world, to go to their rest, by death. Moses, when he died in the top of the mount, ascended to the same glorious abode with Elias, who ascended without dying. They are companions in another world; tfs they appeared together at Christ^s transfiguration. They were together at that time, with Christ in the mount, when there was a representation of his glory in heaven. Doubtless, also, they were together afterwards, with him, when he was actually glorified in heaven. Thither undoubtedly it was, that the soul of Stephen ascended, when he eipired. The circumstances of his oeath demonstrate it, as we have an account of it. Acts viL 55. &c. ^^ He being fiill of the Holy Ghost, looked up sted&stly into heaven, and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing on the right band of God, and said, behold, I see the heavens opened, and the Son of man, (i. e. Jesus in his human nature), standing on the right hand of God. Then they cried out with a loud voice, and stopped their ears, and ran upon him with one accord, and cast him out of the city, and stoned him.—And they stoned Stephen, calling upon God, and saying. Lord Jesus receive my

rt.^^ Before hui death he had an extraordinary view of the y which his Saviour had received in heaven, not onl]^fi>r mself, but for him, and all his faithful followers; that he might be encouraged, by the hopes of this glory, cheerfiilly to lay down his life for bis sake. Accordingly, he dies in the hope of tlus^ saying, ** Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.*^ By which doubtless he meant, ^' receive my spirit to be with thee, in that glory wherein I have now seen thee, in heaven, at the right hand of God.^' Thither it was, that the soul of the penitent thief on the cross ascended. Christ said to him," To-day shalt thou be with me in paradise." Paradise is the same with the third heaven ; as appears by 2 Cor. xii. 2—4. There, that which is called the third heaven in the second verse, in the fourth verse is called paradise. The departed souls of the Apostles and Prophets arc m heaven ; as is manifest from Rev. xxiii. 20. " Rejoice over her thou heaven, and ye holy apostles and prophets." The church of God is distinguished in Scripture, from time to time, into these two parts ; that part of it, which is in heaven, and that which is in earth ; Eph. iii. 14, 15. " Jesus Christ, of whom the whole family in heaven and earth is named." Col. i. 20. " And having made peace through the blood of his cross, by him to reconcile all things to himself; by him, I say, whether they be things in earth, or things in heaven." Now what " things in heaven" are they for whom peace has been made by the blood of Christ's cross, and who have by him been reconciled to God ; but the saints in heaven ? In like manner we read, Eph. i. 10. of *' God's gathering together in one all things in Christ, both which are in heaven, and which are on earth, even in him." The ^' spirits of just men made perfect" are in the same " city of the

living God," with the " innumerable company of angels," and " Jesus the Mediator of the new covenant ;" as is manifest by Heb. xii. 22— 24. The church of God is often in Scripture called by the name of Jerusalem : and the Apostle speaks of the Jerusalem which is above^ or which is in heaven, as the mother of us all; but if no part of the church be in heaven, or none but Enoch and Elias, it is not likely that the church would be called the Jerusalem which is in heaven.

II. They go to dwell in the immediate, full, and constant, sight or view of Christ,

When we are absent from our dear friends, they are out of sight; but when we are with them, we have the opportunity and satisfaction of seeing them. While the saints are in the body, and are absent from the Lord, he is in several respects out of sight, 1 Pet. i. 8. " Whom having not seen, ye love: in whom, though now ye see him not, yet believing," &c. They have indeed, in this world, a spiritual sight of Christ; but they see through a glass darkly, and with great interruption ; but in heaven, they see him face to face, 1 Cor. xiii. 12. " The pure in heart are blessed; for they shall see God,^'* Matth. V. 8. Their beatifical vision of God is in Christ; who is that brightness or effulgence of God^s glory, by which his glory shines forth in heaven, to the view of saints and angels there, as well as here on earth. This is the Sun of Righteousness, which is not only the light of this world, but is also the sun which enlightens the heavenly Jerusalem; by whose bright beams the glory of God shines forth there, to the enlightening and making happy of all the glorious inhabitants. "The Lamb is the light thereof; and so the Glory of God doth lighten it," Rev, xxi. 23. No one sees God the Father immediately. He is the King eternal, immortal, invisible. Christ is the Image of that invisible God, by which he is seen by all elect creatures. The only begotten Son who is in the bosom of the Father, he hath declared him and manifested him. No one has ever immediately seen the Father, but the Son; and no one else sees the Father in any other way, than by the Son's revealing him. In heaven the spirits of just men made perfect see him as he is. They behold his glory. They see the glory of his divine nature, consisting in all the glory of the Godhead, the beauty of all his perfections; his great majesty, and almighty power, his infinite wisdom, holiness, and grace; and they see the beauty of his glorified human nature, and the glory which the Father hath given him, as God-man and Mediator. For this end Christ desired that his saints might "be with him, that they might behold his glory," John xvii. 24. When the souls of the saints leave their bodies, to go to be with Chri«t, they behold the glory of the work of Redemption, " which the an-^

geb desire to look into/^ They ha^e the clearest view of the unfathomable depth of the wisdom and knpwledge of God; and the brightest displays of the purity and holiness of God, which appears in that work. They see m a far clearer manner than ^e saints do here,^ what is the breadth and length, and depdi and hei^t of the grace and love of Christ,*^ appearing in his redemption. As uey see the unspeakable riches and glory of Crod^s grace, so they clearly understand Christ^s eternal and immeasurable love to them in particular* In short, they see every thing in Christ which tends to inflame and eretify love in the most clear and glorious manner, without any darkness or delusion, without anv impediment or interruption. Now thy saints, while in the body, see somewhat of ChristV glorv and love; as we, in the dawn of the morning, see somewhat ct the reflected lig^t of the sun mingled with darkness: but when separated from the body, they see their glorious and loving Redeemer, as we see the sun when risen, above the horixon, by Jiis direct beams, in a clear hemisphere, and with perfect day.

III. They are brought into a perfect coitformiiyto^ and uni^ with, Chriit.

Their spiritual conformity is begun while they are in the body. Here, ^ beholding as in a glass, the glory of the Lord, they are changed into the same image; but, when they come to see him oi he iSf in heaven, then they become like him in another manner. That perfect sight will annihilate all remains of deformity, and sinful unlikeness; as all darkness is annihilated before the full blaze of the sun^s meridian light. It is impossible that the least degree of obscurity should remain before such light; so it is impossible the least degree of sin and spiritual deformity should remain, in such a view of the spiritual beauty and glory of Christ, as the saints enjoy in heaven. When they see the Sun of Righteousness without a cloud, they themselves shine forth as the sun, and shall be themselves as suns without a spot. Then Christ presents his saints to himself, in glorious beau* ty; " not having spot or wrinkle, or any such thing;'' and having holiness without a blemish. Then their union with Christ, is perfected. This also is begun in this world. Therc-lative union is both begun and perfected at once, when the soul first closes with Christ by faith.—^The real union; consisting in the union of heart[and affectionjand in the vital union; is i)e-ffun in this world and perfected m the next. The union of the heart of a believer to Christ, is begun when his heart is drawn to Christ, by the first discovery of his divine excellence at conversion. Consequent on this is established a vital union with Christ; whereby the believer becomes a living branch of the true vine, living by a communication of the sap and vital juice of the stocH and root: a member of Christ's mystical body livhig by a communication of spiritual and vital influences from the

licad, and by a participation of Christ's own life. But while the saints are in the body, there is much remaming distance between Christ and them. The vital union is very imperfect; and so is the communication of spiritual life and vital influence. There is much between Christ and believers to keep them asunder, much indwelling sin, much temptation, a heavy moulded, frail body, and a world of carnal objects, to keep off* the soul from Christ, and hinder a perfect coalescence. But when the soul leaves the body, all these hindrances are removed, every separating wall is broken down, every impediment is taken out of the way, and all distance ceases; the heart is wholly and perfectly drawn, and firmly and for ever bound to Christ, by a perfect view of his glory. The vital union is then brought to perfection; the soul lives perfectly in and upon Christ; being perfectly filled with his spirit, and animated by his vital influence; living as it were only by Christ's life, without any remainder of spiritual death, or carnal Ufe.

IV. They enjoy a glorious^ and immediate^ intercourse and conversation with Christ.

While we are present with our friends, we have opportunity for a free and immediate conversation with them, which we cannot have when absent. Therefore, by reason of the far more free, perfect, and immediate intercourse with Christ, which the saints enjoy when absent from the body, are properly represented as present with him.

The most intimate intercourse becomes that relation in which the saints stand to Jesus Christ; and especially becomes that perfect and glorious union into which they shall be brought with him in heaven. They are not merely his servants^ but his friends / John XV. 15 ; his brethren and companio7is; Psal. cxxii. 8 ; yea they are the spouse of Christ. They are espoused or betrothed to Christ while in the body : but when they go to heaven, their marriage with him is come, and the King brings him into his palace. Christ conversed in the most fi-iendly manner with his disciples on earth, and admitted one of them to lean on his bosom : but they are admitted much more fully and freely to converse with him in heaven. Though Christ be there in a state of glorious exaltation, reigning in the majesty and glory of the sovereign Lord and God of heaven and earth, of angels and men; yet this will not hinder the intimacy and freedom of their intercourse, but will rather promote it. He is thus exalted, not only for himself, but for them. He is Head over all things for their sakes, that they may be exalted and glorified; and, when they go to heaven where he is, they are exalted and glorified with him ; and shall not be kept at a greater distance. They shall be unspeakably more fit for it; and Christ will be in more fit circumstances to bestow on them this blessedness. Theii seeing the great glory of their fi-iend and Redeemer, will xiot

awe them to a distance, and make them afraid of a near a{)» proach; but on the contrary, will most powerfully draw them near, and encourage and engage them to holy freedom. They will know that he is their own Redeemer, and beloved friend; the very same who loved them with a dying love, and redeemed them to God by his blood; Matt, xi v. 27. "It is I; be not afraid." (Rev. i. 17, 18.) "Fear not: I am he that liveth, and was dead." The nature of this glory of Christ which they shall see, will be such as will draw and encourage them; for they will not only see infinite majesty and greatness, but infinite grace, condescension, gentleness and sweetness, equal to his majesty. He ap-Eears in heaven not only as " the Lion of the tribe of Judan, ut as the Lamb, and the Lamb in the midst of the throne;" (Rev. v. 5, 6 :) and this Lamb in the midst of the throne shall be their shepherd, to " feed them, and lead them to living fountains of water; (Rev. vii. 17 ;) so that the sight of Christ's majesty will be no terror to them; but will only serve the more to heighten their pleasure and surprise. When Mary was about to embrace Christ, being full of joy at seeing him again alive after his crucifixion, Christ Ibrbids her to do it for the present ; because he was not yet ascended; (John xx. 16,17,J " Jesus saith unto her, ' Mary.' She turned herself, and saith unto him, 'Rabboni,' which is to say,' Master.' . Jesus saith unto her,' Touch me not; for I am not yet ascended to my Father; But go to my brethren, and say unto them, I ascend unto my Father and your Father, and to my God and your God." As if he had said, " This is not the time and place for that freedom which your love to me desires. That is appointed in heaven after my ascension. I am going thither: and you who are my true disciples, shall, as my brethren and companions^ soon be there with me in my glory. That is the place appointed for the most perfect expressions of complacence and endearment. Accordingly the souls of departed saints in heaven, find Christ raanifestinff those infinite riches of love towards them, which he has felt from eternity; and they are enabled to express their love to him, in an infinitely better manner, than they could while in the body. Thus they shall be eternally encompassed by the infinitely bright and mild and sweet beams of divine love; eternally receiving that light, and forever reflecting it to the fountain.

V. They are received to a glorious fellowship with Christ in his blessedness.

As the wife is received to a joint possession of her husband^s estate; and as the wife of a prince partakes with him in his princely possessions and honours ; so the church, the spouse of Christ, is received to dwell with him in heaven, and shall partake with him in his glory. When Christ rose from the dead,

and took possession of eternal life; this was not as a private person^ but as the Head of his redeemed people. He took possession of it for /Aem, as well as for himself; and " they are quickened together with Atwi, and raised up together.'''' So, when he ascended, he took possession of heaven not onlv for himself, but for his people, as ^Aeir Forerunner and Head, that they might ascend also,. " and sit together in heavenly places with him." (Eph. ii. 5, 6.) " Christ writes upon them his new name." (Rev. iii. 12. i. e.) He makes them partakers of his own glory and exaltation in heaven. His new Name is that new honour and glory with which the Father invested him, when hp set him at his own right hand : just as a prince, when he advances any one to new dignity in his kingdom, gives him a new title. Christ and his saints shall be glorified together, Rom. viii. 17.

The saints in heaven have communion with Christ in his glory and blessedness in heaven, in the following respects.

1. They partake with him in the ineffable delights which he has in heaven^ in the enjoyment of his Father.

When Christ ascended to heaven, he was received to a peculiar blessedness in the enjoyment of his Father, who in his passion hid his face from him ; such an enjoyment as became the relation in which he stood to the Father ; and such as was a meet reward for the great and difficult service which he had performed on earth. Then "God showed him the path of life, and brought him into his presence, where is fullness of joy, and and to sit on his right hand, where there are pleasures tor ever-nK)re," as is said of Christ, Psal. xvi. 11. Then the Father; " made him most blessed forever: he made him exceeding fflacl with his countenance;" as in Psal. xxi. 6. The safnts, by their union with Christ, partake of his child-like relation to the Father; and are heirs^ with him of his happiness in the enjoyment of his Father; as seems to be intimated by the Apostle, in Gal. iv. 4—^7. The spouse of Christ, by her espousals to the only begotten Son of God, is a partaker of his^/iaZ relation to God; becomes the King's daughter; Psal. xlv. 13; and so partakes with her divine Husband in his " enjoyment of his Father and her Father, of his God and her God." A promise of this seems to be implied in those words of Christ to Mary, John xx. 17. Thus Christ's faithful servants " enter into the joy of their Lord," Matth. xxy. 21,23.; and " Christ's joy remains in them;" agreeably to those words of Christ, John xv. 11. Christ from eternity is in the bosom of the Father, as the object of his infinite complacence. In him is the Father's eternal happiness. Before the world was he was with the Father in the enjoyment of his boundless love; and had infinite delight and blessedness in that enjoyment ; as he declares of himself in Pro v. viii. 30. " Then I was by him as one brought up with him : and I was daily his delight, rejoicing always before him." When Christ ascended to the Father

after hia pagsion, he went to the enJOTiiieDt ^rf'the nme ^tf and blessednew in the enjoyment of his love; agreeably to his prayer the eveninff before tug crucifixion, John xvii. 5. ** And now, O Father, glori^ me with thine own self^ with the |^eqr which I had with thee before the world was.^' In the Mune praT-er, he manifests it to be his will, that his true disciples slionkl be with him in the enjoyment of that joy and glory, which he then asked for himself; verse 13. ** That my joy ausht be fulfilled in themselves ;^' verse 23. ^^ And the glory which thou gavest me, I have given them/^ This ^lory and joy of Christ, which the saints are to enjoy with him, is that whicn he has in the enjoyment of the Father^s infinite love to him; as apprars by the last words of that prayer of dur Lord, verse 26, ^ That the love wherewith thou hast loved me, may be in them, and I in them.^* The love which the Father has to his Son is great indeed; the Deity does, as it were, whoUy and entirely flow out in a stream of love to Christ; and the joy and pleatfuie of Chiist is proportionally great This is the stream of Christ^s delist, the river of his infinite pleasure; which he will make his saints to drink of with him; agreeably to FsaL xxz, 8,9. ^ They shall be abundantly satisfied with the fatness of thy house: thou shalt make them drink of the river of thy pleasures; For with thee is the fountain of life: in thy li^ht stuul we see li^^^* The saints shall have pleasure in partaking with CSuist in his plea-sure, and shall see li^t in his light They shall partake wiUi Christ of the same river of pleasure, shall drink ot the water of life, and of the same new wine in his Father's kingdom; Matth. xxi. 29. That new wine is especially that joy and happiness which Christ and his true disciples shah partake of togetlier in glory; which is the purchase of Christ's blood, or the reward of his obedience unto death. Christ at his ascension into heaven, received everlasting pleasures at his Father's ri^ht hand, in the enjoyment of his Father's love, as the reward of his own obedience unto death. But the same righteousness is reckoned both to the head and the members ; and both shall have fellowship in the same reward ; each according to their distinct capacity.

That the saints in heaven thus partake with Christ in his own enjoyment of the Father, manifests the transcendent excellence of their happiness, and their being admitted to a vastly higher privilege in glory than the angels.

2. They partake with Christy in the glory of that dominion^ to which the Father has exalted him.

The saints, when they ascend to heaven, and are made to sit together with Christ in heavenly places, are exalted to reign with him. They are through him made kings and priests, and reign with him, and in him, over the same kingdom. As the Father has appointed unto him a kingdom, so he has appointed it to them. The Father has appointed the Son to rcign over

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hie own kingdom, and the Son appoints his saints to reign in hw. The Father has given to Christ to sit with him on his throne, and Christ gives to the saints to sit with him on his throne, agreeably to his promise; Rev. iii. 21. Christ as God's Son^ is the Hetr of his kingdom; and the saints are ^om^Aeirs with Christ; which implies, that they are heirs of the same inheritance, to possess the same kingdom, in and with him, according to their capacity. Christ in his kingdom reigns over heaven and earth; ne is appointed the " Heir of all things;'' and so all things are the saints; " whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, or things present, or things to come," all are theirs; because they are Christ's, and united to him;(l Cor. iii. 21—^33.) The angels are given to Christ as a part of his doininion, to wait upon him as ministering spirits: so they are all ministering spirits, to minister to them who are the heirs of salvation. They are Christ's angels, and they are also their angels. Such is the saint's union with Christ, and their interest in him, that what he possesses, they possess, in a much more perfect and blessed manner than if all things were given to them separately, and by themselves, to be disposed of according to their discretion. All things are now disposed of so as in every respect to be most for their blessedness, by an infinitely better discretion than their own; and are disposed of, also, by their head and husband, between whom and them there is the most perfect union of hearts, and of wills, and who are one, even as Christ and the Father are one.

As the glorified spouse of this great King reigns with him, in his dominion over the universe; so more especially does she share with him in the joy and glory of his reign in his kingdom of grace. This is peculiarly the kingdom which he possesses as Head of the Church, and is that kingdom in which she is more especially interested. It was especially to reign in this kingdom, that God the Father exalted him to his throne in heaven. He set his King on his holy hill of Zion, especially that he might reign over Zion, or over his church, in his kingdom of grace; and that he might be under the best advantages to carry on the designs of his love in this lower world. Hence, the saints in heaven are partakers in Christ's joy when they witness the prosperity of his kingdom of grace on earth, and the success of his gospel here: which he looks on as the peculiar glory of his reign. The good shepherd rejoices when he finds but one sheep that was lost; and his friends and neighbours in heaven rejoice with him on that occasion. That part of the family which is in Tieaven are surely not unacquainted with the affairs of that part of the same family which is on earth. They who are with the King and are next to him, the royal family who dwell in his palace, are not kept in ignorance of the affairs of his kingdom. The saints in heaven are with the angels, the

SERMU.V AT £KAINEBD S fCNEHAI.

King's ministers; l>y whom he manages the affairs of his kingdom; and who are continually nsccnding and deecending from heaven to earth, and daily employed as ministeriug spiriu to each individual member of the church below: beside the continual ascending uf llie souls of departed saints from all parts of the militant church. On those accounts the eaints in heaven niust be under far greater advantages than we are here, for a full view of the stale of the church on earth, and a gp«edy, direct, and certain acquaintance with all its affairs in every country. That which gives them a still greater advantage for such an acquaintance, is their being constantly in the immediate presence of Christ, and in the enjoyment of the most perfect intercourse with him, who, as the King of the Church, manages all those affairs, and has a perfect knowledge of them. Christ is the Head of the whole glorified assembly; they ore mystically his glorified boily : and what the head sees, it sees for the isforma-Iron of the whole body, according to its capacity: and what lliij Jicad enjoys, is for the joy of the whole body. The saints in leaving this world, and ascending to heaven, do notgooutof sight of things appertaining to Christ's kingdom on earth. On the contrary, they eo out of a state of obscurity, and ascend above the mists and clouds, into the clearest light; to a pinnacle, in the very centre of light, where every thing appears in clear view. They have as much greater advantage to view the state of Christ's kingdom, and the works ofihe new creation here, than they had whdc in this world; as a man who ascends to the top of a high mountain has greater advantage to view the face of the earth, than he had while he was in a deep valk'y, or tJiick fnrcjit below; suirounilod on every side with those things which impeded and limited his sight. Nor do they view them as indifferent or unconcerned spectators, any more than Christ himself is an unconcerned spectator. The happiness of the saints in heaven consists veiy much in beholding the glory of God appearing in the work of Redemption: for it is by this chiefly that God manifests his glory, the glory of his wisdom, holiness, grace, and other per^ctions, to both saints and angels; as is apparent by many scriptures. Hence, undoubtedly much of their happiness consists in beholding the progress of this work in its application and success, and the steps by which Infinite power and wisdom brings it to its consummation. They arc under unspeakably greater advantages to enjoy the progress of this work, than we are; as they are under greater advantages to see and understand the marvellous steps which Divine wisdom takes in alt that is done, and the glorious ends he obtains; tlio opposition Satan makes, and how he is baffled and overthrown. They can better see the connection of one event with another, and the beautiful order of all things which come to pass in the church in dillerent ages that to us appear

like confusion. Nor do they only view these things, and rejoice in them as a glorious and beautiful sight; but as persons interested, as Christ is interested; as possessing these things in Christ, and reigning with him, in his kingdom. Christ's success in his work of redemption, in bringing home souls to him-self> applying his saving benefits by his Spirit, and the advancement of the kingdom of grace in the world, is the reward especially promised to him by his Father in the covenant of redemption, for the hard and difficult service which he performed whilie in the form of a servant; as is manifest by Is. liii. 10—12. But the saints shall partake with him in the joy of this reward; for this obedience which is thus rewarded, is reckoned to them as they are his members. This was specially the joy that was set before Christ; for the sake of which, he endured the cross, and despised the shame; and his joy is the joy of all heaven. They, who are with him in heaven, are under much the greatest advantages to partake with him in this joy; for they have a perfect communion with him through whom they enjoy all their heavenly happiness; as much as the whole body has all its pleasure of music by the ear, and all the benefit and refreshment of air by the lungs. The saints while on earth pray and labour ibr the same thing for which Christ laboured, viz, the advance^ ment of the kingdom of God among men, the promoting of the prosperity of Zion, and the flourishing of religion in this warld; and most of them have suffered for that end as Christ did, have been made partakers with their head in his sufferings, and ^'filled up'' as the Apostle expresses it" that which is behind of the sufferings of Christ." Hence they shall partake with him of the glory and joy of the end obtained ; Rom. viii. 17. *' We are joint-heirs with Christ; if so be that we suffer with him, that we may be also glorified together." 2 Tim. ii. 12, « If we suflfer with him, we shall also reign with him." Christ, ivhen his sufferings were past, and he lefl the earth and ascended to heaven, was so far from having done with his kingdom in this world, that it was as it were but then begun. He ascended for that very end, that he might more fully possess and enjoy this kingdom, and that he might reign in it; as a king ascends a throne to reign over his people, and receive the honour and glory of his dominion. No more have the saints done with Christ's kingdom on earth, when they leave the earth and ascend into heaven. " Christ ascended in the clouds of heaven, and came to the Ancient of days, and was brought near before him," to the very end^ " that he might receive dominion, and glory, and a kingdom; that all people, nations and languages, should serve him," Dan. vii. 13,14. This will be eminently fiilfiUed after the ruin of Antichrist, which is especially the time of Christ's kingdom. The same is the time when " the Kingdom and the dominion, and the greatness of the kingdom

onder the wh6le hectven, riiail be grfen to the people of the saints of the Most High 6od^* Thk is becsEUse ihffy shaB teiga in and with Christ, Sie Most Hitfh,** wbo^ ldi^|doiti is. an eYerlastinff kin^om, and whom aS dominions ditul serve and obey. ** This is true, not only of the saints on earth, but also of the saints in heaYon. Hence the saints in hMven, haViiq; respect to this time, do sinff, in Rev. v. Itt *^ We diiH reign on the earth/* Agreeably hereto, it is afteiWibrds n^nreMdled, that when that time comes, the souls of them who iti ft»iaer ages had suffered with Christ, do reign with Christ; having, aft it were, ^ven to them new life and joy, in that spiritual blOsMl resurrection, which shall then be of the church or God on ewijk\ and thus ** The meek,** those who meekly and patiendy^ suflbt with Christ, and for his sake, ** shidl inherit the earth i^ thofiabdl inherit it, and reisn on earth with CSirist CbriM is the beir of die world; and when the appointed time of his kktgdom ccmibs, his inheritance shall be ^eh him; aikl tfiere i&Wtti^ who ate joint-heirs, shall also inherit it The place ifi the (Hd Tw-tament wbence these words are taken, leads to theh^ true interpretation ; 1^1. nxvii. 11. " The meek shaU inhetit'the ewrth, and shall delight themselves in the abtmdance of peace.*' That these words refer to the peace and Uessednesrof the latter day, we learn by comparing them with Psalm IxziLT. *^ In bis days shall be abundance of peace, so long ae^ the mooo esad^r reth :** And Jer. zxxiii. 6. ^^ I will reveiu to tfaeifr the abmi* dance of peace and truth:** Also Is. iL 4. Mie. iv. 3r Is. zi. 6—9; and many other parallel places. The saints in heaven will as truly share with Christ in reij^ingover the nations, and in the glory of his dominion at that time, as they will shate with him in the honour of judging the world at the last dayw The

E remise of Christ to his disciples, Matth. xix. 28,29. seOms to ave a special respect to the former of these. In ver. 28. Christ promises the disciples, that hereafter, ^^ when the Son of Man shall sit on the throne of his glory, they shall mi on twdve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.** The saints in heaven reigning on earth in the glorious latter day", ir described in language accommodated to this promise of Christy Rev. XX. 4. '^ And I saw thrones, and they sat upon them; and* jwig* ment was given them.—And they reigned with Christ** And the promise in the next verse, in that xixth of Matthew, seems to have its fulfilment at the same time: '^ And every one that hath forsaken houses, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or wife or children, or lands>, for my name*s sake, shall receive an hundred fold, and shall inherit everlasting life;** i. e. At the time when the saints shall inherit the earth and reign on earth, the earth, with all its blessings shall be given in great abundance to the church, to be possessed by the saints. This they shidl receive in the present world, and in the world to come everiast-

ing life. The saints in heaven shall partake with Christ in the triumph mnd glory of those victories which he shall obtain, at that glorious period, over the kings and nations of the world; which are sometimes represented by his ruling them-with a rod of iron, and dashing them in pieces as a potter'^s vesseh To this doutless there is a reference in Rev. ii. 26,27. " He that overcometh, and keepeth my words unto the end, to him will I give power over the nations; and he shall rule them with a rod of iron; as the vessels of a potter shall they be broken to shivers, even as I received of my Father." And in Psaf. cxlix. 5, to the end; ^^ Let the saints be joyful in glory: let them sing aloud upon their beds; (i. e. in their separate state after death; compare Is. Iviii. 1, 2.) Let the high praises of God be in their mouth, and a two-edged sword in their hand; to execute ven-seance upon the heathen, and punishments upon the people; to bind their kingis with chains, and their nobles with fetters of iron, to execute upon them the judgment written: This honour have all the saints." Accordingly, when Christ appeal^ riding forth to his victory over Antichrist, Rev. xix^ the hosts of heaven appear goin^ forth with him in robes of triumph, ver. 14. When Antichrist is destroyed, the inhabitants of heaven, and the holy apostles and prophets, are called upon to rejoice, chap, xviii. 20. Accordingly, the whole multitude of the inhabitants of heaven on that occasion, exult, and praise Grod with exceeding joy; (chap. xix. 1—8, and chap. xi. 15,) and are also representea as greatly rejoicing on occasion of the ruin of the heathen empire, in the days of Constantino, (chap. xii. 10.^) It is observable all along in the visions of that book, that the hosts of heaven appear as much concerned and interested in the events appertaining to the kingdom of Christ here below, as the saints on earth. The commencement of the Church's latter-day glory is eminently ^^ the day of Christ^s espousals H^ ^^ the day of the gladness of his heart, when as the bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride, so he will rejoice over his church.'* Then will all heaven exceedingly rejoice with him; and therefore they say at that time, (Rev. xix. 7,) ^^ Let us be glad and rejoice, and give glory to him; for the Marriage of the Lamb

IS come/'

Thus Abraham enjoys these things, when they come to pass, which were of old promised to him, which he saw beforehand, and in which he rejoiced. He will enjoy the fuliSlment of the promise that all the families of the earth should be blessed in bis seed, when it shall be accomplished. All the ancient par triarchs, who died believing in the promises of glorious things to be accomplished in this world; ^^ who had not received the promises, but saw them afar off, and were persuaded of thoBSb, and emlMraced them; do actually enjoy them when fulfilled. David actually saw and enjoyed the fulfilment of that promise.

in its due lime, which wns inmle to him many hunttred years before, and was all his salvation and all his desire." Thus Daniel shall stand in hi* lot, at the end of the days pointed out by his own prophecy. Thus the saints of old, who died in faith not having received the promise, arc made perfect, and have their faith crowned by the better tilings accomplished in these latter days of the gospel. (Hcb. xi. 39, 40,) which they see and enjoy in their time.

3. They liavefellowship with Ckrint, in his blessed and eternal Emiloyment of glorifytng the Father.

The happiness of heaven consists, not merelj' nor principally in contemplation and passive enjoyment, but to a great de^e in action; and particularly in actively serving and glorifying God. This is expressly mentioned as a great part of the blessedness of the saints in their perfect state, Rev, xxii. 3, " And there shall be no more curse; but the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be in it; and his servants shall serve him." The angels are as a flame of fire in their ardour and activity in God's service. The four living creatures, (Rev. iv.) who are generally supposed to signify the angels, are represented as continually giving praise and glory to God, and are said not to rest day nor night. The souls of departed saints are doubtless become as the angels of God in this respect Jesus Christ is the head of the whole glorious assembly, as in other things pertaining to their blessed state, so in this of their praising and glorifying the Father. When Christ, the night before he was crucified, prayed for his exaltation to glory, it was that he might glorify the Father; John xvii. 1. "Th^si- words ^paim Jesus, and lift up his eyes to heaven, and said, Father, the hour is come ; glorify thy Son; that thy Son also may glorify thee." This he doubtless does, now he is in heaven; not only in fulfilling the Father's will, in what he does as Head of the church and Ruler of the universe; but also in leading the heavenly assembly in their praises. When Christ instituted the Lord's Supper, and ale and drank with his disciples at his table; giving them therein a representation and pledge of their future feasting with him, and dnnking new wine in nis heavenly Father's kingdom ; he at that time led them in their praises to God, in the hymn which they sang. So, doubtless, he leads his glorified disciples in heaven. David, as the sweet psalmist of Israel, led the great congregation of God's people in their songs of praise. In this, as in innumerable other things, he wasatype of Christ; who is often spoken of in Scripture by the name of David. Many of the psalms which David penned, were songs of praise, which he by the spirit of prophecy, uttered in the name of Christ, as head of the church, and leading the saints in their praises. Christ in heaven leads the glorious assembly in their praises to Goil, as Moses did the congregation of Israel at the Red Sea: which is

implied in its being said that, " they sing'' the song of Moses and the Lamb." (Rev. xv. 2, 3.) In Rev. xix. 5. John tells us that" he heard a voice come out of the throne, saying, Praise our God, all ye his servants, and ye that fear him, both small and great." Who can it be, that utters this voice out of the throne^ but " the Lamb who is in the midst of the throne," calling x>n the glorious assembly of saints to praise his Father and their Father, his God and their God? What the consequence of this voice is, we learn in the following words : " And I heard as it were the voice of a great multitude, and as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of mighty thunderings, saying, Alleluia ; for the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth."

APPLICATION.

The subject which we have been considering, may be useful* ly applied in the wsiy of exhortation. Let us all be exhorted hence earnestly to seek after that great privilege which has been spoken of; that when " we are absent from the body, we may be present with the Lord." We cannot continue always in these earthly tabernacles. They are very frail, and will soon decay and fall; and are continually liable to be overthrown by innumerable means. Our souls must soon leave them, and go into the eternal world. O, how infinitely great will be the privilege and happiness of those, who, at that time shall go to be with Christ in his glory, in the manner that has been repre* sented ! The privilege of the twelve disciples was great, in being so constantly with Christ as his family, in his state of humiliation. The privilege of those three disciples was great who were with him in the mount of his Transfiguration; where was exhibited to them a faint semblance of his future glory in heaven, such as they might safely behold in the present frail, feeble and sinful state. They were greatly delighted with what they saw ; and were desirous of making tabernacles to dwell there, and return no more down the mount Great, also, was the privilege of Moses when he was with Christ in Mount Sinai, and besought him to show hinvhis glory, and he saw his back-parts as he passed by, and heard him proclaim his name. But is not that privilege infinitely greater which has now been spoken of: the privilege of being with Christ in heaven, where he sits on the throne, as the King of angels, and the God of the universe ; shining forth as the Sun of that world of glory;—^there to dwell in the full, constant, and everlasting view of his beauty and brightness ;—there most freely and intimately to converse with him, and fully to enjoy his love, as his friends and brethren; there to share with him in the infinite pleasure and joy which he has in the enjoyment of his Father;—there to sit with him on his throne, to reign with him in the possession of allthings,

to partake with him in the glory of his victory over his enemies, and the advancement of his kmgdom in the world, and to join with him in joyful songs of praise to his Father and our Father, to his God and our God, for ever and ever ? Is not this a privilege worth the seeking after ?

llere, as a powerful enforcement of this exhortation, I would improve that afflictive dispensation of God*s holy Providence, which is the occasion of our coming together at this time: the death of that eminent servant of Jesus Christ, whose funeral is this day to be attended ; together with what was observable m him, living and dying.

In this dispensation of Providence, God puts us in mind of our mortality, and forewarns us that the time is approaching when we must be " absent from the body;" and " must appear," as the Apostle observes in the next verse but one to the text, ^' before the judgment-seat of Christ, that every one of us may receive the things done in the body, according to what we have done, whether it be good or bad."

In him, whose death we are now called to consider and im-prove, we have not only an instance of mortality; but, as we have all imaginable reason to conclude, an instance of one, who, being absent from the body, is present with the Lord. Of this we shall be convinced, whether we consider the nature of his experience at the time whence he dates his conversion; or the nature and course of his inward exercises from that-tune forward ; or his outward conversation and practice in life; or his frame and behaviour during the whole of that long space wherein he looked death in the face.

His convictions of sin, preceding his first consolations in Christ, as appears by a written account which he has left of his inward exercises and experiences, were exceedingly deep and thorough. His trouble and sorrow arising from a sense of guilt and misery, were very great and long continued, but yet sound and rational; consisting in no unsteady, violent, and unaccountable frights, and perturbations of mind ; but arising from the most serious considerations, and a clear illumination of the conscience to discern and consider the true state of things. The light let into his mind at conversion, and the influences and exercises to which his mind was subject at that time, appear verj' agreeable to reason and the gospel of Jesus Christ. The change was very great and remarkable; yet without any appearance of strong impressions on the imagination, of sudden flights of the afiections,or of vehement emotions of the animal nature. It was attended with just views of the supreme glory of the divine Be ing; consisting in the infinite dignity and beauty of the perfections of his nature, and of the transcendent excellency of the way of salvation by Christ.—This was about eight years ago. when he was twenty-one years of age.

Thus God sanctified, and made meet for his use, that vessel, which he intended to make eminently a vessel of honour in his house^ and which he had made of large capacity, having endowed him with very uncommon abilities and gifts of nature. He was a singular instance of a ready invention, natural eloquence, easy flowing expression, sprightly apprehension, quick discernment, and very strong memory, and yet of a very penetrating genius, close and clear thought, and piercing judgment. He had an exact taste : his understanding was, if I may so express it, of a quick, strong, and distinguishing scent.

His learning was very considerable. He had a great taste for learning; and applied himself to his studies in so close a manner when he was at college, that he much injured his health; and was obliged on that account for a while to leave college, throw by his studies, and return home. He was esteemed one who excelled in learning in that society.

He had extraordinary knowledge of men, as well as of things; and an uncommon insight into human nature. He excelled most whom I ever knew in the power of communicating his thoughts ; and had a peculiar talent at accommodating himself to the capacities, tempers, and circumstances, of those whom he would instruct or counsel.

He had extraordinary gifts for the pulpit* I never had an opportunity to hear him preach; but have often heard him pray. I think that his manner of addressing himself to God, and expressing himself before him, in that duty, almost inimitable ; such as I have very rarely known equalled. He expressed himself with such exact propriety and pertinency ; in such significant, weighty, pungent expressions ; with such an appearance of sincerity, reverence, and solemnity, and so great a distance from all affectation, as forgetting the presence of men, and as being in the immediate presence of a great and holy God ; as I have scarcely ever known paralleled. His manner of preaching, by what 1 have often heard of it from good judges, was no less excellent ; being clear and instructive, natural, nervous and moving, and very searching and convincing. He nauseated an afiected noisiness, and violent boisterousness in the pulpit; and yet much disrelished a flat, cold delivery, when the subject required aflection and earnestness.

Not only had he excellent talents for the study and the pulpit, but also for conversation. He was of a social disposition; was remarkably free, entertaining, and profitable in his ordinary discourse: and discovered uncommon ability in disputing; in defending truth and confuting error.

He excelled in his knowledge of Theology, and was truly, for one of his standing, an extraordinary divine; but above all in matters relating to experimental religion. In this, I know that I have the concurring opinion of some, who are generally re-

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garded as persons of the best judgment. According to what ability I have to judge of things of this nature, and according to my opportunities, which of late have been very great, I never knew his equal, of his age and standing, for clear, accurate notions of the nature and essence of true reli^on, and its distinctness from its various false appearances. This I suppose to be owing to the strength of his understanding; to the great opportunities which he had of observing others, both whites and Indians; and to his own great experience.

His experiences of the holy mfluences of God's Spirit were not only great at his first conversion; but they were so in a continued course^ from that time forward. This appears from a diary, which he kept of his daily inward exercises, from the time of his conversion, until he was disabled by the failing of his strength, a few days before his death* The change, which he looked upon as his conversion, was not only a great change of the present views, affections, and frame of his mind; but was evidently the beginning of that work of God in his heart, which God carried on, in a very wonderful manner, from that time to his dying day.* He aohorred the course pursued by those, who live on their first evidences of piety, as though they had now finished their work; and thenceforward gradually settle into a cold, lifeless, negligent, worldly fi'ame.

His experiences were very different from many things, which have lately been regarded by multitudes, as the very neight of Christian experience. When that false religion, which arises chiefly from impressions on the imaginations, began first to gain

* This more abundantly appears from a farther acquaintance with his diarvi since this sermon was delivered. Grace in him seems to have been almost continually, with scarcely the intermission of a day, in very sensible, and indeed vigorous and powerful exercise, in one respect or other. His heart appears to have been exercised, in a continued course, in such thingfs as these that follow: the most ardent and pure love to God ; great weanedness from the world, and sense of its vanity ; great humiliation; a most abasing sense of his own vilcness; a deep sense of indwelling sin, which indeed was most evidently, by far the greatest burden of his life, and more than all other afflictions that he met with put together; great brokenness of heart before God, for his small attainments in grace, that he loved God so little, &c. mourning that he was so unprofitable ; earnest longings and thirstings of soul after holiness ; earnest desires that God might be glorified, and that Christ's kingdom might be advanced in the world ; wrestlings with God in prayer, for these things; delight in the gospel of Jesus Christ, and the way of salvation by him ; sweet complacence in those whose conversation savoured of true holiness; compassion to the souls of men, and earnest intercessions in secret for them; great resignation to the will of God; a very frequent, most sensible, renewed renunciation of all things for Christ, and giving up himself wholly to God, in soul and body; great distrust of his own heart, and universal dependence on God ; longings after full deliverance from the body of sin and death, after perfect conformity to God, and perfectly glorifying him in heaven ; clear views of eternity, almost as though he were actually out of the body, and had his eyes open in another world; constant watchfulness over his own heart, and continual earnestness iu his inward warfare with sin ; together with great care to the utmost, to improve time for God, in his service^and to his glory.

a very great prevalence in the land, he was for a little while deceived with it, so as to think highly of it. Though he knew that he never had such experiences as others told of, yet he thought it was because their attainments were superior to his; and so coveted them, and sought after them, but could never obtain them. He told me that he never had what is called an impulse^ or a strong impression on his imagination^ in things of religion, in his life; yet owned, that during the short time in which he thought well of these things, he was tinged with that spirit of false zeal, which was wont to attend them ; but added, that, even at this time, he was not in his element, but as a Ash out of water. When, after a little while, he came clearly to see* the vanity and perniciousness of such things, it cost him abundance of sorrow and distress of mind, and to my knowledge he afterwards freely and openly confessed the errors in conduct into which he had run, and humbled himself before those whom he had offended. Since his conviction of his error in those respects, he has ever had a peculiar abhorrence of that kind of bitter zeal, and those delusive experiences which have been the principal source of it. He detested enthusiasm in all its forms and operations; and condemned whatever in opinion or experience seemed to verge towards Antinomianism. He regarded with abhorrence the experiences of those, whose first faith consists in believing that Christ died for them in par ticular; whose first love consists in loving God, because they suppose themselves the objects of his love; and whose assurance of their good estate arises from some immediate testimony, or suggestion, either with or without texts of Scripture, that their sins are forgiven, and that God loves them; as well as the joys of those who rejoice more in their own supposed distinction above others, in honour, privileges, and high experiences, than in God's excellence and Christ's beauty; and the spiritual pride of those laymen, who set themselves up as public teachers, and decry human learning, and a learned ministry. He frreatly nauseated every thing like noise and ostentation in re-igion, and the disposition which many possess to publish and proclaim their own experiences; though he did not condemn, but approved of Christians speaking of their experiences, on some occasions, and to some persons, with modesty, discretion and reserve. He abominated the spirit and practice of the generality of the Separatists in this land. I heard him say once and again, that he had had much intercourse with this class of people, and was acquainted with many of them in various parts of the country; and that by this acquaintance he knew, that what was chiefly and most generally in repute among them, as the power of godliness, was entirely a different thins from that vital piety recommended in the Scriptures, and had nothing in it of that nature. He never was more fiill in con-

(lemning these things than in his last illness, and after he ceased to have any expectations of life: particularly, when he had the greatest and nearest views of approaching eternity; and several times, when he thought himseli actually dying, and expected in a few minutes to be in the eternal world, as he himself told me.*

* Since this sermon was preached, I find what follows in his Diary for the last summer.

*^ Thursday^ June 18. I was this day taken exceeding ill, and broug^bt to the gates of death.—In this extremely weak state I continued for several weeks ; and was frequently reduced so low as to be utterly speechless, and not able so much as to whisper a word. Even after I had so far revived, as to walk about house, and to step out of doors, I was exercised every day with a faint turn, which continued usually four or five hours. At these times, though I could say yts or no : yet I could not converse at all, nor speak one sentence without making stops for breath. And clivers times, in this season, my friends gathered round my bed, to see me breathe my last; which they looked for every moment, as I myself also did.

*^ How I was the first day or two of my illness, with regard to the exercise of reason, I scarcely know : but I believe I was somewhat shattered, with the violence of the fever, at times. But the third day of my illness, and constantly afterwards, for four or five weeks together, 1 enjoyed as much serenity of mind, and clearness of thought, as perhaps I ever did in my Ufe. 1 think that my mind never penetrated with so much ease and fi:«edom into divine things as at this time; and that I never felt so capable of demonstrating the truth of many important doctrines of the Gospel as now.

** As I saw clearly the truth of those great doctrines, which are justly styled the doctrines of grace; so I saw yifiih no less clearness, that the essence of true religion consists in the soul's conformity to God and acting above aU selfish views, for his glory, longing to be for him, to live to him, and please and honour him in all things; and that, from a clear view of his infinite excellence and worthiness in himself, to be loved, adored, worshipped, and served, by all intelligent creatures. Thus I saw, that when a soul loves God with a supreme love, he therein acts like the blessed God himself, who most justly loves himself in that manner; so when God's interest and his are become one, and he longs that God should be glorified, and rejoices to think that he is unchangeably possessed of the highest glory and blessedness, herein also he acts in conformity to God. In like manner, when the soul is fully resigned to, and rests satisfied and contented with the divine will, here he is also conformed to God.

*^ I saw further, that as this divine temper, whereby the soul exalts God, and treads itself in the dust, is w^rought in the soul by God's discovering his own glorious perfections, in the face of Jesus Christ, to wit, by the special influences of his Holy Spirit; so he could not but have regard to it as his own work: As it is his image in the soul, he could not but take delight in it. Then I saw again that if God should slight and reject his own moral image, he must needs deny himself; which he cannot do. Thus I saw the stability and infallibility of this religion ; and that those who were truly possessed of it, had the most complete and satisfying evidence of their being interested in all the benefits of Christ's redemption, having their hearts conformed to him; *and that these, and these only, were qualified for the employments and entertainments of God's kingdom of glory: as none but these would have any relish for the business of heaven, which is to ascribe glory to God, and not to themselves ; and that God,(though I would speak it with great reverence of his name and perfections) could not, without denying himself, finally cast such away. ' The next thing I had then to do, was to inquire, whether ihds was my religion. Here God was pleased to help me to the most easy remembrance, and critical review of what had passed in course, of a religious nature, through several of the latter years of my life. Although I could discover much cor-

As his inward appearances appear to have been of the right kind, and were very remarkable as to their degree, so were his outward behaviour and practice agreeable. In his whole course, he acted as one who had indeed sold all for Christ, had entirely devoted himself to God, had made his glory his highest end, and was fully determined to spend his whole time and strength in his service. He was animated in religion, in the right way: animated not merely, nor chiefly, with his tongue, in professing and talking; but animated in the work and business of religion. He was hot one of those who contrive to shun the cross, and get to heaven in the indulgence of ease and sloth. His life of labour and self-denial, the sacrifices which he made, and the readiness and constancy with which he spent his strength and substance to promote the glory of his Redeemer, are probably without a parallel in this age in these parts of the world. Much of this may be perceived by any one who reads his printed Journal; but much more has oeeh learned by long and in-

ruplion attending^ my best duties, many selfish views and carnal ends, much spiritual pride, and self-exaltation, and innumerable other evils which compas* sed me about; I say, although I now discerned the sins of my holy thing^s, as well as other actions ; yet God was pleased, as 1 waff reviewing, quickly to put this question out of doubt, by showing me that .1 had, from time to time, acted above the utmost influence of mere self-love: that J had longed to please and glorify him, as my highest happiness, &c. This review, was through grace, attended with a present feeling of the same divine temper of mind. I felt now pleased to think of the glory of God; and longed for heaven, as a state wherein I might glorify God perfectly, rather than a place of happiness for myself. This feeling of the love of God in my heart, which I trust tl^ Spirit of God excited in me afresh, was sufficient to give me full satisfaction, and make me long as I had many times before done, to be with Christ. 1 did not now want any of the sudden suggestions, with which many are so pleased, * TJiat Chrut and his bene' Jits are MINE,' * Thai God loves he," in order to give me satisfaction about my state. No: my soul abhorred those delusions of Satan ; which are thought to be the immediate witness of the Spirit^ while there is nothing but an empty sug' gettion of a certain fact, without any gracious discovery of the divine glory, or of the Spirit's work in their own hearts. I saw the awful delusion of this kind of confidences; as weU as of the whole of that religion from which they usually spring, or of which at least they are the attendants; the false religion of the late day, though a day of wondrous grace; the imaginations and impressions made only on the animal affections; together with the sudden suggestions made to the mind by Satan, transformed into an angel of light, of certain facts not revealed in Scripture; These I say, and many Uke things, I fear have made up the greater part of the religious appearances in many places.

" 'J^hese things I saw with great clearness, when I was thought lo be dying, and God gave me great concern for his church and interest in the world at this time: Not so much because the late remarkable influence upon the minds of the people was abated, and almost wholly gone, as because the false religion, the heats of imagination, and wild and selfish commotions of the animal affections, which attended the work of grace, had prevailed so far. This was that which my mind dwelt upon almost day and night: And this to ipe was the darkest appearance respecting religion in the land. For it was this chiefly that had prejudiced the world against inward religion. This 1 saw was the great misery of all, that so few saw any manner of diSerence between those exercises which are spiritual and holy, and those which have self-love only for their beginning, centre, and end."

timate acquaintance with him« and by looking into bis Diary since bis deatb, whicb be purposely concealed in what he published.

As bis desires and labours for the advancement of Christ's kingdom were great, so was his success. God was pleased to make him the instrument of bringing to pass the most remarkable alteration among the poor savsiges, in enlightening, awa* kening, reforming and changing their disposition and manners, and wonderfully transforming them, of which perhaps any instance can be produced in these latter ages of the world. An account of this has been given the public in his Journal, drawn up by order of the Honourable Society in Scotland, which employed him. This 1 would recommend to the perusal of all who take pleasure in the wonderful works of God's grace, and who wish to read that which will peculiarly tend both to entertain and profit a Christian mind.

Not less extraordinary were his constant calmness, peace, assurance and joy in God, during the long time he looked death in the face, without the least hope of recovery; continuing without interruption to the last; while his distemper very sensibly preyed upon his vitals, from day to day, and often brought him to that state in which he looked upon himself, and was thought by others, to be dying. The thoughts of approaching death never seemed in the least to damp him, but rather to encourage him, and exhilarate his mind. The nearer death approached, the more desirous he seemed to be to die. He said, not long before his death, that " the consideration of the day of death and the day of judgment, had a long time been peculiarly sweet to him." At another time he observed, that he could not but think of the propriety there was in throwing such a rotten carcass as his into the grave: It seemed to him to be the right way of disposing of it." He often used the epithet glorious^ when speaking of the day of his death, calling it that glorious day. On Sabbath morning, Sep. 27, feeling an unusually violent ap-

Eetite for food, and looking on it as a sign of approaching death, e said ^^ he should look on it as a favour, if this might be his dying day, and that he longed for the time." He had before expressed himself desirous of seeing his brother again, whose retiwn had been expected from New-Jersey ; but then, [speaking of him] he said, " I am willing to go, and never see him again : I care not what I part with, to be for ever with the Lord." Being asked that morning, how he did ? he answered," I am almost in eternity; God knows, I long to be there. My work is done : I have done with all my friends: All the world is nothing to me." On the evening of the next day, when he thought hini-self dying, and was apprehended to be so by others, and he could utter himself only by broken whispers, he often repeated the word Eternity ; and said, " I shall soon be with the holv an2:els.

^^ Jesus will come, he will not tarry/^ He told me one night, as he went to bed, that ^^ he expected to die that night ;^^ and added ^^ I am not at all afraid, I am willing to go this night, if it be the will of God. Death is what I long for.^^ He sometimes expressed himself as ^^ having nothing to do but to die: and being willing to go that minute, if it was the will of God/^ He sometimes used that expression, ^^ O why is his chariot so long in coming!''

He seemed to have remarkable exercises of resignation to the will of God. He once told me that ^^ he had longed for the outpouring ^ the Holy Spirit of God, and the glorious times of the church, and hoped they were coming r and should have been willing to have lived to promote religion at that time, if that had been the will of God." " But," said he," 1 am willing it should be as it is: I would not have the choice to make for myself for ten thousand worlds."*

He several times spoke of the different kinds of willingness to die: and mentioned it as an ignoble, mean kind of willingness to die, to be willing only to get rid of pain ; or to go to heaven only to get honour and advancement there. His own longings for death seemed to be quite of a different kind, and for nobler ends. When he was first taken with one of the last and most fatal symptoms in a consumption, he said, ^' O now the glorious time is coming ! I have longed to serve God perfectly ; and God will gratify these desires." At one time and another, in the latter part of his illness, he uttered these expressions. '^ My heaven is, to please God, to glorify him, to give all to him, and to be wholly devoted to his glory: That is the heaven I long for; that is my religion; that is my happiness ; and always was, ever since I supposed I had any true religion. All those who are of that religion, shall meet me in heaven."— ^*' I do not go to heaven to be advanced; but to give honour to God. It is no matter where I shall be stationed in heaven; whether I ^ have a high or low seat there; but I go to love, and please, and glorify God* If I had 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 me happv in 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 O to glorify God I

* He writes thus in his Diary : Aug, 23. 1747. '^ In the week pastr I had di-vers^tums of inward refreshing. Though my body was inexpressibly weak, followed continually with agues and fevers, sometimes my soul centred in God us my only portion; and 1 felt that I should be for ever unhappy if he did not reign. 1 saw the sweetness and happiness of being hU tubject at his dispozaL This made all my difficulties quickly vanish.''

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: It id bat a veiy small matter ; yet I have done a little; and I lament it that I have not done more for him."—" There is nothing in the world worth Uving for, but doing good, and finishing God^s work; doing the work that Christ did. I see nothing else in the world that can yield any satisfaction, beside 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.'^"*

After he came to be in so low a state that he ceased to have the least expectation of recovery, his mind was peculiarly carried forth with earnest concern for the prosperity of the church of God on earth : this seemed very manifestly to arise firom a pure disinterested Jove to Christ, and a desire of his glory. The prosperity of Zion was a theme on which he dwelt much, and of which he spake much; and more and more, the nearer death approached. He told me when near his end, that '' he never, m all his life, had his mind so led forth in desires and earnest prayers for the flourishing of Christ^s kingdom on the earth, as since he was brought so exceedingly 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. Particularly, he

* In his Diary he writes thus; ** Sept. 7, 1747 WheD I was in great distress of body, my soul desired that God should be glorified. I saw there was no heaven bat this. I could not but speak to the by-standers then of the only happiness, viz. pleasing God. O that I could for ever live to God! The day I trust is at hand, the perfect day! O, the day of deliverance from all sin !

** Sept. 19. Near night, while I attempted to walk a little, my thoughts turned thjn : How infinitely sweet it is to love God, and be nil for him ! Upon which it was suggested to me, * Tou are not an angel, nor lively and active.' To which my whole soul immediately replied, * I as sincerely desire to love and glorify God, as any angel in heaven.^ Upon which it was suggested again, ^ but you are filthy, not fit for heaven.' Hereupon instaiitly appeared the blessed robes of Christ's righteousness, in which T could not but exult and triumph. I viewed the infinite excellency of God; and my soul even broke with longings, that God should be glorified. I thought of dignity in heaven : but instantly the thought returned, I do not go to heaven to get honour, but to give all possible glory and praise. O, how I longed that God should be glorified on earth also! O, I was made for eternity, if God might be glorified ! For bodily pains I cared not; though I was then in extremity, I never felt easier; I felt willing to glorify God in that state of bodily distress, as long as he pleased I should continue so. The grave appeared really sweet, and (longed to lodge my weary bones in it: But, O, that God might be glorified! This was the burden of all my cry. O, I knew I should be active as an angel in heaven, and that I should be stripped of my filthy garments ! So that there was no objection. But O, to love and praise God more, to please him for ever! This my soul panted after, and even now pants for, while I write. O, that God may 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 out 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."

several times expressed his wonder that there appeared no more forwardness to comply with the proposal'lately made from Scotland, for uhited extraordinary prayer among God's

Eeople, and for the coming of Christ^s kingdom ; and sent it as is dying advice to his own congregation, that they should practice agreeably to that proposal."

But a little before his death, he said to me, as I came into the room, " My thoughts have been employed on flie 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, for which the dear Redeemer did and suffered so much. It is that, especially, which makes me long for it."

But a few days before his death, he desired us to sing a psalm, which related to the prosperity of Zion, which he signified engaged his thoughts and desires above all things. At his desire we sung part of the 102d psalm. When we had done, though he was then so low that he could scarcely speak ; he so exerted himself, that he made a prayer, very audibly, in which, beside praying for those present, and for his own congregation, he earnestly prayed for the reviving and flourishing of religion in the world.

His own congregation especially, lay much on his heart. He often spoke of them ; and commonly when he did so, it was with peculiar tenderness; so that his speech was interrupted and drowned with weeping.

Thus I have endeavoured to represent something of the character and behaviour of that excellent servant of Christ, whose funeral is now to be attended.—Though I have done it very imperfectly; yet I have endeavoured to do it faithfully, and as in the presence and fear of God, without flattery ; which surely is to be abhorred in ministers of the Gospel, when speaking " as messengers of the Lord of hosts." '

Such reason have we to be satisfied that the person of whom I have* been speaking, now he is " absent from the body," is " present with the Lord;" not only so, but also with him, now wears a crown of glory, of distinguished brightness.

How much is there in the consideration of such an example, and so blessed an ehd, to excite us, who are yet alive, with the greatest diligence and earnestness, to improve the time of life, that we also may go to be with Christ, when we forsake the body ? The time is coming, and will soon come, we know not how- soon, when we must eternally take leave of all things here below, to enter on a fixed unalterable state in the eternal world. O, how well it is worth the while to labour arid sufier, and deny ourselves, to. lay up in store a good foundation of support and supply, against that time! How much is such a peace as we have heard of, worth at such a time ? How dis^

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mal would it be, to be in such circumstances, under the outward distresses of a consuming, dissolving frame, and looking death in the face from day to day, with hearts uncleansed, and sin unpardoned, under a dreadful load of guilt and divine wrath, having much sorrpw and wrath in our sickness, and nothing to comfort and support our minds, nothing before us but a speedy appearance before the judgment seat of an almighty, infinitely holy, and angry God, and an endless eternity in suffering his wrath without pity or mercy ! The person of whom we have been speaking, had a great sense of this. He said, not long before his death, " It is sweet to me to think of eternity: The endlessness of it makes it sweet. But, Oh, what shall I say to the eternity of the wicked!—I cannot mention it, nor think of it! —The thought is too dreadful!" At another time, speaking of an heart devoted to God and his glory, he said, " O, of what importance is it, to have such a frame of mind, such an heart as this, when we come to die! It is this now that gives me peace."

How much is there, in particular, in the things which have been observed of this emment minister of Christ, to excite us, who are called to the same great work of the Gospel-Ministry, to earnest care and endeavours, that we may be in like manner faithful in our work; that we may be filled with the same spirit, animated with the same pure and fervent flame of love to God, and the same earnest concern to advance the kingdom and glory of our Lord and Master, and the prosperity of Zion ? How lovely did those principles render him in his life; and how blessed in his end !—The time will soon come, when we also must leave onr earthly tabernacles, and go tp our Lord, who sent us to labour in his harvest, to render an account of ourselves to him. O how docs it concern us so to run as not uncertainly; so to fight, not as those that beat the air! Should not what we have heard excite us to a careful dependence on God for his help and assistance in oiir great work, and to be much in seeking the influences of his Spirit, and success in our labours, by fasting and prayer ; in which the person of whom I have been speaking abounded ? This practice he earnestly recommended on his death-bed, from his own experience of its great benefits to some candidates for the ministry who stood by his bedside. He was often speaking of the great need which ministers have of much of the Spirit of Christ in their work, and how little good they arc like to do without it: and how " when ministers w^re under the special influences of the Spirit of God, it assisted them to come at the consciences of men, and, as he expressed it, to handle them with hands : whereas, without the Spirit of God, said he, whatever reason and oratory we employ, wo do but make use of ftftimps. instead of hands/"

Oh that the things which were seen and heard in this extraordinary person; nis holiness, heavenlincss, labour and self-denial in life; his so remarkably devoting himself and his al]« in heart and practice, to the glory of God ; and the wonderful frame of mind manifested^ in so steadfast a manner, under the expectation of death, and under the pains and agonies which brought it on; may excite in us all, both ministers and people, . a due sense of the greatness of the work which we have to do in the world, of the excellency and amiableness of thorough religion in experience and practice, of the blessedness of the end of those whose death finishes such a life, and of the infinite value of their eternal reward, when " absent from the body and present with the Lord ;" and effectually stir us up to constant and effectual endeavours that, in the way of such an holy life, we may at last come to so blessed an end! Amen,

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