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THE LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 REV. DAVID BRAINERD, 
 
 : CHIEFLY EXTRACTED FROM HIS DIARY. 
 
 BY PRESIDENT EDWARDS. 
 
 SOMEWHAT ABRIDGED. 
 
 EMBRACING, IN THE CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER, 
 
 BRAINERD’S PUBLIC JOURNAL 
 
 ¢ 
 
 OF THE MOST SUCCESSFUL YEAR OF HIS 
 
 Missionary Labors. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY THE 
 AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 
 NO. 150 NASSAU-STREET, NEW-YORK. 
 
 D. Fanshaw, Printer. 
 
It is a striking characteristic of the life of Brainern, trom 
 the time of his entering on the study of Theology till his 
 death, that he daily ‘‘ walked with God,” or mourned the — 
 absence of the light of hiscountenance. President Edwards 
 has endeavored to exhibit the state of his mind each day, as 
 described in his diary. In this edition, many passages thns 
 inserted by Edwards, especially such as much resembled 
 those preceding or following, have been omitted. 
 
Div.S 
 
 a ll vy 
 
 ase 
 
 Bay cay 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 —~ 
 
 Page. 
 
 President Edwards’ Preface - : - - - + 
 
 Cuap. I.—From his birth to the time when he began to 
 study for the ministry—containing his own narrative 
 of his conversion, his connection with Yale College 
 and the grounds of his expulsion - - 
 
 Cuar. If.—From about the time when he began the 
 study of theology, till he was licensed to preach - 
 
 Cuap. I[l.—From his being licensed to preach, till he 
 Was commissioned as amissionarv- - -  - 
 
 Cuar. 1V.—From his appointment as a missionary, to 
 his commencing his mission among the Indians at 
 Kaunaumeek, in New-York - - = - - 
 
 Cuar. V.—His labors for nearly a year at Kaunaumeek 
 —temporal deprivations and sufferings—establishes 
 a school—confession offered to the Faculty of Yale 
 
 College—days of fasting—methods of instructing. 
 
 the Indians—visit to New-Jersey and Connecticut 
 —commencement of labor among the Indians at the 
 Forks of Delaware—ordimation - - -— - 
 Cuar. VI.—Labors for the Indians at and near the Forks 
 of Delaware—idolatrous feast and dance—journey 
 through the wilderness to Opeholhaupung, on the 
 Susquehanna—erects a cottage at the Forks of De- 
 laware—some evidences of a work of the Spirit 
 among the Indians—journey to New-England, to 
 obtain funds to support a colleague—visit to the In- 
 dians on the 2a cai ating gininka to Crossweek- 
 sung, in New-Jersey - : - 
 Cuar. VII.—Being Part I. of his nab Seainal of “the 
 Rise and Progress of a remarkable Work of Grace 
 among the Indians in New-Jersey and Penwsylva- 
 
 t ~ = 
 BIGGS S 3s 
 
 5 
 
 45 
 
 52 
 
 61 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 nia; kept by order of the Society in Scotland for 
 propagating Christian Knowledge ”—commence- 
 ment of his labors at Crossweeksung—renewal of 
 labor at the Forks of Delaware—conversion of his 
 interpreter—return to Crossweeksung—outpouring 
 of the Spirit—visit to the Forks of Delaware and 
 the Susquehanna—a powaw—a conjurer—renewal 
 of labor at Crossweeksung—remarks on the work 
 of-divine grace () | “= Fees eee eee 
 Cuar. VIII.—Being Part IL. of his public Journal of 
 “the Continuance and Progress of a Remarkable 
 Work of Grace among the Indians in New-Jersey 
 and Pennsylvania: kept by order of the Society in 
 Scotland for propagating Christian Knowledge "— 
 renewal of labor at Crossweeksung—outpouring of 
 the Spirit—remarkable case—signal displays of di- 
 vine power—a convert—a number of Christian In- 
 dians accompany him to the Forks of Delaware— 
 striking conversion at Crossweeksung—day of fast- 
 ing—Lord’s supper—conversion of a conjurer— 
 general remarks on the preceding narrative - - 
 
 Cuap. 1X.—From the close of his public Journal, June 
 
 19, 1746, to his death, October 9, 1747—continu- 
 ance of labor at Crossweeksung and Cranberry— 
 journey with six Christian Indians to the Susque- 
 hanna, and labors there—return to Crossweeksung 
 —compelled by prostration of health to leave the 
 {ndians—confinement by sickness at Elizabethtown 
 —farewell visit to the Indians—his brother John 
 succeeds him as a missionary—arrival among his 
 friends in Connecticut—visit to President Edwards, 
 in Northampton—journey to Boston, where he is 
 brought near to death—usefulness in Boston—re- 
 turn to Northampton—triumphs of grace in his last 
 
 132 
 
 194 
 
 sickness—death - - - - - - - 278 
 
 Cuar. X.—Reflections on the preceding memoir- —- 
 
 345 
 
FROM 
 
 PRESIDENT EDWARDS’ PREFACE. | 
 
 Tuer: is one thing, easily discernible in the life of Braiy- 
 ERD, Which by many may be considered an objection to tke 
 extraordinary evidences of his religion and devotion, viz. 
 that he was, by his constitulion and natural temper, so prone to 
 melancholy 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 beside melancholy, 
 disturbing the brain, and exciting enthusiastic imaginations. 
 But that Brainerd’s temper or constitution inclined him to 
 despondency, is no just ground for supposing that his extra- 
 ordinary devotion was only the fruit of a warm imagination. 
 Notwithstanding this inclination to despondency, he was evi- 
 dently one of those who usually are the farthest from a teem- 
 ing imagination; being of a penetrating genius, of clear 
 thought, of close reasoning, and a very exact judgment; as 
 was apparent to all who knew him. As he had a great in- 
 sight into human nature, and was very discerning and judi-° 
 cious in general; so he excelled in his judgment and know- 
 ledge in divinity, but especially in experimental religion. 
 He most accurately distinguished between real, solid piety. 
 and enthusiasm; between those affections that are_rational 
 and scriptural, having their foundation in light and judgment, — 
 and those that are founded in whimsical conceits, strong im- 
 pressions on the imagination, and vehement emotions of the 
 animal spirits. He was exceedingly sensible of men’s expo- 
 sure to these things; how extensively they had prevailed, 
 and what multitudes had been deceived by them; of their 
 pernicious consequences, and the fearful mischief they had 
 
 Ay "Salt 8 aah =a 
 2 
 
 y= 2 
 Erisetal 
 
7 
 
 6 at PREFACE. 
 
 done in the Christian world. He had no confidence in 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 appear- 
 ing under the most fair and plausible disguises. He had a 
 talent, which I scarcely ever knew equalled, for describing 
 the various workings of this imaginary enthusiastic religion, 
 
 evincing its falseness and vanity, and demonstrating the great 
 
 difference between this and true spiritual devotion. 
 
 His judiciousness did not only appear in distinguishing 
 among the experiences of others, but also among the various 
 exercises of his own mind; particularly in discerning what 
 within himself was to be laid to the score of melancholy ; in 
 which he exceeded all melancholy persons that ever I was 
 acquainted with. This was doubtless owing to a peculiar 
 strength in his judgment ; for it is a rare thing indeed, that 
 persons under the influence of melancholy are sensible of 
 their own disease, and convinced that such things are to be 
 ascribed to it, as are its genuine operations and fruits. Brain- 
 erd 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 to spiritual desertion, which 
 in the latter part of his life he was abundantly sensible was 
 owing to the disease of melancholy ; accordingly he often ex- 
 pressly speaks of it in his diary, as arising from this cause. He 
 often in conversation spoke of the difference between melan- 
 choly and godly sorrow; between true humiliation and spiri- 
 tual desertion ; and the great danger of mistaking the one for 
 the other, and the very hurtful nature of melancholy; dis- 
 coursing with great judgment upon it, and doubiless much 
 more judiciously for what he knew by his own experience, 
 
 # 
 
_ PREFACE. ' 7 
 
 Another imperfection in Brainerd, which may be observed 
 in the following account of his life, was his being excessive in 
 his labors ; not taking due care to proportion his fatigues to 
 his strength. Indeed, the seeming calls of Providence were 
 very often such as made it extremely difficult for him to avoid 
 laboring beyond his strength ; yea, his circumstances, and the 
 business of his mission among the Indians, were such, that 
 great fatigues and hardships were altogether inevitable. 
 However, he was finally convinced that he had erred in this 
 matter, and that he ought to have taken more thorough care, 
 and been more resolute to withstand temptations to such 
 degrees of labor as injured his health; and accordingly he 
 warned his brother, who succeeded 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 of Brainerd, as it most ap- 
 parently had in those of the devout David, and the Apostles 
 Peter, John, and Paul. There was undoubtedly very often 
 some mixture of melancholy with true godly sorrow and 
 real Christian humility; some mixture of the natural fire of 
 - youth, with his holy zeal for God; and some influence of na- 
 tural 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 Brainerd’s 
 imperfections than himself; or could distinguish more accu- 
 rately than he, between what was natural and what was spiri- 
 tual. It is easy for the judicious reader to observe that his 
 
8 PREPACE. so 
 
 graces ripened, that the religious exercises of his heart be 
 came more and more pure, and he more and more distin 
 guishing in his judgment, the longer he lived. He had much 
 to teach and purify him, and he failed not to profit thereby. 
 
 Notwithstanding all these imperfections, every pious ana 
 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 Brainerd wrote in 
 his diary, out of which the following account of his life is 
 chiefly taken, was written only for his own private use; and 
 not to obtain honor 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 him- 
 self almost invincibly averse to the publishing of any part of 
 his ciary after his death ; and when he was thought to be dy- 
 ing 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 far, as that “his papers should be 
 left in my hands, that I might dispose of them as I thought 
 would be most for God’s glory and the interest of religion.”* 
 
 JONATHAN EDWARDS. © 
 
 ‘ 
 
LIFH 
 
 OF 
 
 REV. DAVID BRAINERD. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 From his birth to the time when he began to study for the 
 Ministry—containing his own narrative of his conversion, 
 his connection with Yale-College, and the grounds of his 
 expulsion. 
 
 April 20, 1718-—-Feb. 1741. 
 
 Davin Brainerd was born April 20, 1718, at Had- 
 dam, Connecticut. His father was Hezekiah Brainerd, 
 Esq. and his mother, Dorothy Hobart, daughter of the 
 Rev. Jeremiah Hobart. 
 
 He was the third son of his parents, who had five 
 sons and four daughters. The oldest son was a respecta- 
 ble citizen of Haddam; the second was Rey. Nehemiah 
 Brainerd, a worthy minister in Eastbury, in Connécti- 
 cut; the fourth, Mr. John Brainerd, who succeeded his 
 
 brother David as missionary to the Indians, and pastor 
 
 of the same church of Christian Indians in New-Jer- 
 sey; and the fifth was Israel, lately student at Yale- 
 College, who died soon after rs brother David. ee 
 mother, having lived about five years a widow, died 
 when the subject of this memoir was about folr bale 
 
* 
 
 10 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. L. 
 
 years of age; so that in his youth he was left both 
 fatherless and motherless. The following is the ac- 
 count he has himself given of the first twenty-three 
 years of his life. , 
 “Twas from my youth somewhat sober, and inclined 
 to melancholy ; but do not remember any thing of con- 
 viction of sin, worthy of remark, till I was, I believe, 
 about seven or eight years of age. Then I became 
 concerned for my soul, and terrified at the thoughts of 
 death ; and was driven to the performance of religious 
 duties: but it appeared a melancholy business that de- 
 stroyed my eagerness for play. And though, alas! this 
 religious concern was but short-lived, I sometimes at- 
 tended secret prayer; and thus lived “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 ex- 
 cited by the prevalence of a mortal sickness in Had- 
 dam. 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 hopefu! way 
 for heaven and happiness; not knowing what conver- 
 sion was. ‘The Spirit of God at this time proceeded 
 far with me. J 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 per- 
 suaded to be a Christian.” I was also exceedingly dis- 
 sed and melancholy at the death of my mother, in 
 , 1732. But afterward my religious concern 
 1 to decline, and by degrees I fell back into a con- 
 
1738. ] HIS CONVICTION AND CONVERSION. 1] 
 
 siderable degree of security, though I still attended 
 secret prayer. 
 
 “About the 15th of April, 1733, I removed from my 
 father’s house to East-Haddam, where I spent four 
 years; but still “without God in the world,” though, 
 for the most part, I went a round of secret duty. I 
 was not much addicted to the company and the amuse- 
 ments of the young ; but this I know, that when I did 
 go into such company I never returned with so good 
 a conscience as when I went, It always added new 
 guilt, made me afraid to come to the throne of grace, 
 and spoiled those good frames with which I was wont 
 sometimes to please myself. But, alas! all my good 
 frames were but self-righteousness, not founded ona 
 desire for the glory of God. : 
 
 “About the end of April, 1737, being full nine- 
 teen years of age, I removed to Durham, to work on 
 sy farm, and continued about one year; frequently 
 jonging 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, I went to live with Rev. 
 Mr. Fiske, of Haddam, and continued with him during 
 his life. [remember he advised me wholly to abandon 
 young company, and associate myself with grave el- 
 derly people; which counsel I followed. My manner 
 of life was now wholly regular, and full of religion, 
 such as it was; for I read my bible more than twice 
 through in less than a year, spent much time every day 
 
2 UPE OF BRAINERR [Ceap. L 
 
 ia prayer and other secret duties, gave great attention 
 \o the ward preached, and endeavored to my utmest to 
 Tetaia Rk. So much cancerned was I about religion, 
 that I agered with some young persons to meet pri- 
 vateiy on Sehhath evenings for religious exercises, and 
 thought myse sincere in these duties; and after our 
 meeting was ended I used to repeat the discourses 
 of the day to myself; recollecting what Pevold, though... 
 sometimes very late at night. [I used occasionally oa 
 Monday mornings to recollect the same sermons; had 
 sometimes pleasure in religious exercises, and had 
 many thoughts of joining the church. In short, I had 
 a very Sood oufsede, and rested entirely on my duties, 
 thouzh I was not sensible of it. 
 
 * After Mr. Fiske’s death I proceeded im my stadies 
 with my brother; was still very constant im religious 
 duties often wondered at the levity of professors, and 
 lamented their carelessness in religien.—Thus I pre- 
 ceeded a considerable length on a seifrizhizeus foun- 
 Gatien ; and shoul have been entirely lost and undone, 
 hed not the mere mercy of God prevented. 
 
 “Semetime mm the besimning of winter, 1733, it 
 pleased God, one Sabbath morning, as 1] was walking — 
 eat for secret duties, to sive me ona sudden sucha 
 sense of my danger, and the wrath of Ged, that I stood 
 amazed, 22d my former sood frames presently ven- 
 ished. From the view which I had of my sim and vile- 
 mess, I was much distressed all that day, fearing that 
 the venseance of God would soon overtake me. Iwas 
 maech dejected; kept moch alone; and sometimes en- 
 wied the bards and beasts their happiness, because they 
 Were not exposed to eternal misery, as I evidently =w 
 that I wes. Thus I lived irom éey today, bee fre- 
 quently im creat distress: sometimes there eppeared 
 
1739.)/ -wIS CONVICTION AND CONVERSION. 13 
 
 mountains before me to obstruct my hopes of mercy; 
 and the work of conversion appeared so great, that ] 
 _ 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 
 _sny worth in my duties, as I thought, even while per- 
 ‘forming them; and often confessed to God that I de- 
 served nothing forthe very best of them, but eternal 
 condemnation ; yet still I had a seeret hope of recom- 
 mending 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. There was, then, some appearance 
 of goodness in my prayers, and I seemed to mourn for 
 sin. I could in some measure venture on the mercy of 
 God in Christ, as I thought; though the preponderat- 
 mg thought, the foundation of my hope was some 
 imagination of goodness in my meltings of heart, the 
 warmth of my affections, and my extraordinary en- 
 largements in prayer. Though at times the gate ap- 
 peared 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 dili- 
 gence and watchfulness soon gain the point. Some- 
 times after enlargement in duty and considerable affec- 
 | tion, I hoped I had made a zood step toward heaven, 
 and imagined that God was affected as I was, and 
 would hear such sincere cries, as 1 called them. And 
 | 80 sometimes, when I withdrew for secret prayer im 
 great distress, I returned comfortable ; and thus healed 
 
 myself with my duties. ; 
 “In February, 1739, I set apart a day for secret fast- 
 
 2 
 
 Brainerd. 
 
gee 
 & 
 
 » 7 
 _ 
 14 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. I. 
 
 ing 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 dis- 
 coveries of my heart to me. Still I ér-wsted 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 endeavors, that day, 
 a means to show me my helplessness in some measure. 
 “Sometimes I was greatly encouraged, and imagined 
 that God loved me and was pleased with me, and thought 
 Tshould soon be fully reconciled to God. Butthe whole 
 was founded on mere presumption, arising from en- 
 largement in duty, or warmth of affections, or some good 
 resolutions, or the like. And when, at times, great dis- 
 tress began to arise on a sight of my vileness and ina- 
 bility 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 renouneing myself, and stand- 
 ing 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 reme- 
 dy ; yet, when the discoveries of my vile, wicked heart. 
 were made tome, the sight was so dreadful, and showed . 
 me so plainly my exposedness to damnation, that I 
 could not endure it. I constantly strove after whatever 
 qualifications I imagined others obtained before the re- 
 ception of Christ, in order to recommend me to his 
 favor. Sometimes I felt the power of a hard heart, 
 and supposed it must be softened before Christ would 
 
Ra; 
 
 1739.] HIS CONVICTION AND CONVERSION. 15 
 
 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 
 ny distress remained still. 
 “ At times I grew remiss and sluggish, without any 
 
 _ great convictions of sin, for a considerable time to- 
 
 gether; but after such a season convictions sometimes 
 seized me more violently. One night J 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 be- 
 come my grave; and send my soul quick into hell, be- 
 fore I could get home. Though I was forced to goto 
 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 car- 
 nal security, and to my former insensibility of impend- 
 
 ing 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 degree of them to be con- 
 siderable, I was wont to trust in them; but this confi- 
 dence, and the hope of soon making some notable ad- 
 vances toward 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 toward conversion, 
 
 ‘ 
 
16 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. E. 
 
 by some particular opportunity or means I had in view. 
 “The many disappointments, the great distress and 
 perplexity which I experienced, put me into a most 
 horrible frame of contesting with the almighty; with 
 inward vehemence and virulence finding fault with his 
 ways of dealing with mankind. My wicked ‘heart 
 often wished for some other way of salvation than by 
 Jesus Christ. Being like the troubled sea, my thoughis 
 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 de- 
 signs and decrees concerning me, or to escape his no- 
 tice and hide myself from him. But when upon re- 
 flection 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 was some other God that could control him. 
 These thoughts and desires were the secret inclina- 
 tions 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 
 F 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 soine other books repre- 
 sented it. Sometimes I used to take much pains to 
 work it up into a good frame, a humble submissive dis- 
 position ; and hoped there was then some goodness in 
 me. But, ona sudden, the thoughts of the strictness 
 of the law, or the sovereignty of God, would so irri- 
 tate the corruption of my heart that I had so watched 
 over and hoped I had brought toa gond frame, that. it 
 
1739.] HIS CONVICTION AND CONVERSION. 17 
 
 would break over all bounds, and burst forth on all 
 sides, like floods of waters when they break down 
 their dam. 
 
 “ Being sensible of the necessity of deep humiliation 
 in order toa saving close with Christ, I usedto set my- 
 self to produce in my own heart the convictions requi- 
 site 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 notin 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, truky humbled, and that I 
 bowed to the divine sovereignty. I was wont to tell God 
 in my prayers, that now I had those very dispositions 
 of soul which he required, and on which he showed 
 mercy to others, and thereupon to beg and plead for 
 merey to me. But when I found no relief, and was 
 still oppressed with guilt and fears of wrath, my soul 
 was in a tumult, and my heart rose against God, as deal- 
 ing 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 humi- 
 liation ; because thereby I had lost all my seeming 
 goodness. Thus, scores of times I vainly imagined 
 myself hnmbled and prepared for saving mercy. While 
 
 2 
 
18 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. 3 
 
 I was in this distressed, bewildered, and tumultuous 
 state of mind, the corruption of my heart was especial- 
 ly irritated with the following things. 
 
 1. “ The strictness of the divine law. ForI found 
 1t was impossible for me, after my utmost pains, to an- 
 swer its demands. I often made new resolutions, and 
 as often broke them. I imputed the whole to careless- 
 ness, and the want of being more watchful, and used 
 to-call myself a fool for my negligence. But when, 
 upon.a stronger resolution, and greater endeavors, and 
 close application'to fasting and prayer, I found all at- 
 tempts fail; then I quarrelled with the law of God, as 
 unreasonably rigid. I thought, if it extended only to 
 my outward actions and behavior, that I could bear 
 with it; but I found that it condemned me for my evil 
 thoughts, and sins of my heart, which I could not pos- 
 sibly prevent. I was extremely loth to own my utter 
 helplessness in this matter: but after repeated disap- 
 pointments, thought that rather than perish I could do 
 a little more still; especially if such and such circum- 
 stances might but attend my endeavors and strivings. 
 I hoped that I should strive more earnestly than ever, 
 if the matter came to extremity, though I never could 
 find the time to do my utmost in the manner I intend- 
 ed. This hope of future more favorable circumstances, 
 and of doing something great hereafter, kept me from 
 utter despair in myself, and from seeing myself fallen 
 into the hands of a sovereign God, and dependent on 
 nothing but free and boundless grace. 
 
 2.“ Another point that irritated me was, that faith 
 alone was the condition of salvation; that God would 
 not come down to lower terms; and that he would not 
 promise life and salvation upon my sincere and hearty 
 
1739.] —«HIS: CONVICTION AND CONVERSION. I9 
 
 -prayersandendeavors. That word, Mark 16:16, “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. 2: 1,8. “ This,” I was ready to say, “is a 
 hard saying, who can hear it?” I could not bear that 
 all I had done should ‘stand for mere nothing; as 
 I had been very conscientious in duty, had been very 
 religious a great while, and had, as I thought, done 
 much more than many others who had obtained mer- 
 ey. Iconfessed indeed the vileness of my duties; but 
 then what made them at that time seem vile, was my 
 wandering thoughts in them, rather than 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 thename of honest faithful endearor's ; and could not 
 bear it, that God had made no promises of salvation 
 
 |. to them. 
 
 3.“I could not find out what faith was; or what it 
 was tu believe and come to Christ. I read the calls of 
 Christ to the weary and heavy laden; but could find no 
 way in which he directed them to come. I thought I 
 would gladly come, if I knew how; though the path 
 of duty were never so difficult. I read Stoddard’s 
 Guide to Christ, (which I trust was, in the hand of God, 
 the happy means of my conversion, ) and my heart rose 
 against the author; for though he told me my very 
 heart all along under convictions, and seemed td be 
 very beneficial to mein his directions; yet here he 
 seemed to me to fail: 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 gulph between me and Christ, with- 
 
 ou: any direction how to get through. For I was not 
 
20 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. }. 
 yet effectually and experimentally taught, chat there 
 could be no way prescribed, whereby a natural mau 
 could, of his own strength, obtain that which is super- 
 natural, and which the highest angel cannot give. 
 
 4. “ Another point was the sovereignty of God. I 
 could not bear that it should be wholly at God’s plea- 
 Sure, to save or damn me, justas he would. That pas- 
 sage, Rom. 9 : 11-23, was a constant vexation to me, 
 especially verse 21. Reading or meditating on this, al- 
 ways destroyed my seeming good frames; for when I 
 thought I was almost humbled, and almost resigned, 
 this passage would make my enmity against God ap- 
 pear. When I came to reflect on the inward enmity 
 and blasphemy which arose on this occusion, I was 
 the more afraid of God, and driven further from any 
 hopes of reconciliation with him. Itgave mea dread: 
 ful view of myself; I dreaded more than ever to see 
 myself in God’s hands, and it made me more opposite 
 than ever to submit to his sovereignty; for I thought 
 He designed my damnation. 
 
 ~All this time the Spirt of God was powerfully at 
 work with me; and I was inwardly pressed to relin- 
 quish all selj-confidence, all hope of ever helping my- 
 self by any means whatsoever. The conviction of my 
 losi estate was sometimes so clear and manifest before 
 my eyes that it was as if it had beendeclared 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, fora few moments, I seemed to myself 
 lostiand undone; but then would shrink back imme- 
 diately from the sight, because I dared notventuremy- - 
 self into the hands of God, as wholly helpless, and at 
 
1739.] «BIS COVICTION AND CONVERSION. 21 
 
 the dispasal 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, 
 1 felt distressed to have the same discoveries of myself 
 again; fur I greatly feared being given over of Gad to 
 final stupidity. When I thought of putting it off toa 
 more “convenient season,” the conviction was so close 
 and powerful, that the present time was the best, and 
 probably the only time, that I dared not put it off. 
 
 “Tt was the sight of truth concerning myself, truth 
 respecting my state, as a creature fallen and alienated 
 from God, and that consequently could make no de- 
 mands on God for mercy, but was at his absolute dis- 
 
 osal, from which my soul shrank away, and which I 
 trembled to think of beholding. Thus, he thac doeth 
 evil, as all unregenerate men continually do, hates the 
 light of truth, neither cares to come to 4t, heen it 
 will reprove his deeds, and show him his just deserts. 
 John, 3: 20. Sometime before, I had taken much 
 pains, as I thought, to submit to the sovereignty of 
 God ; yet I mistook the thing, and did not once ima- 
 gine, that seeing and being made experimentally sen- 
 sible of this truth, which my soul now so much dreaded 
 and trembled at, was the frame of soul which I had so 
 earnestly desired. I had ever hoped that when I had 
 attained to that Aumiliation which I supposed neces- 
 sary 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 ali goodness, that on the contrary, my 
 mouth world be for ever stopped by it ; and it looked 
 _ as dreadful to me, to see myself, and the relation I 
 stood in to God—I a sinner and criminal, and hea 
 
22 LIFE OF BRAINERD. ° [ Chap. f, 
 
 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 circtimstances 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 with an 
 objection, that I did not know how to submit. But the 
 truth was, I could see no safety in owning myself in 
 the hands of a sovereign God, and could lay no claim 
 to any thing better than damnation. , 
 “ After a considerable time spent in similar exercises 
 and distress, one morning, while I was walking ipa 
 solitary place, as usual, I at once saw that all my con- 
 trivances and projects to effect or procure deliverance 
 and salvation for myself were utterly in vain; I was 
 brought quite to a stand, as finding myself totally lost. 
 Ihad 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 toward helping or delivering 
 myself. I then thought of blaming myseif, that I had 
 not done more, and been more engaged, while I had 
 opportunity=for it seemed now as if the season of 
 doing was for ever over and gone—but I instantly saw, 
 that let me have done what I would, it would no more 
 have tended to my helping myself, than what I had 
 done; that F had made all the pleas I ever could have 
 made to all eternity; and that all my pleas werevvain. 
 ‘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 cer- 
 tainty that my state was for ever miserable, for all that 
 T could do; and wondered that I had never been sen’ 
 sible of it before. m 
 
| 
 
 1739.) HIS CONVICTION AND CONVERSION. 23 
 
 “While I remained in this state my notions respect- 
 ing my duties were quite different from what I had 
 ever entertained in times past. Before this, the more 
 I did in duty, the more hard I thought it would be for 
 God to cast me off; though at the same time I con- 
 fessed, 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 
 ofsGod. Now I saw that there was no necessary con- 
 nection between my prayers and the bestowment of 
 divine mercy; that they laid not the least obligation upon 
 God to bestow his grace upon me; and that there was no 
 more virtue or goodness in them than there would be 
 in my paddling with my hand in the water, (which was 
 the comparison J had then in my mind;) and this be- 
 cause they were not performed from any love or re- 
 gard to God. Isaw that I-had been heaping up my 
 devotions before God, fasting, praying, &c. pretend- 
 ing, and indeed really thinking sometimes, that I was 
 aiming at the glory of God; whereas I never once 
 truly intended it, but only my own happiness. I saw 
 that as [had never done any thing for God, I had. no 
 claim on any thing from him, but perdition, on ac- 
 count of my hypocrisy and mockery. Oh, how dif- 
 ferent did my duties now appear from what they used 
 
 | todo! I used to charge them with sin and imperfec- 
 
 | 
 | 
 
 tion ; but this was only on account of the wandering 
 and vain thoughts attending them, and not because I 
 
 had no regard to God in them ; for this [thought Lhad. - . 
 
 But when I saw evidently that I had had regard to 
 nothing but self-interest; then they appeared a vile 
 
24 LIFE OF BRAINERD, [Chap, I. 
 
 mockery of God, self-worship, and a continued 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. 1 
 
 -“T continued, as I remember, in this state of mind 
 from Friday morning till the Sabbath evening follow- 
 ing, (July 12, 1739,) when I was walking again in the 
 same solitary place where I was brought to see myself 
 lost and helpless, as before mentioned. Here, in a 
 mournful melancholy state, I was. attempting to pray ; 
 but found no heart to engage in prayer or apy 
 other duty. My former concern, exercise, and_re- 
 ligious affections were now gone. I thought that the 
 Spirit of God had quite left me ; but still was not dis- 
 tressed ; yet disconsolate, as if there was nothing in 
 heaven or earth could make me happy. Having been 
 thus endeavoring 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 exiernal 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 ap- 
 prehension or view that I had of God, such as I never 
 had before, nor any thing which had the least resem- 
 blance of it. I stood still, wondered, and admired! ] 
 knew that I never had seen before any thing compara- 
 ble to it for excellency and beauty; it was widely dif- 
 ferent from all the conceptions that ever I had of God, 
 ‘ or things divine. Ihad 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 
 
4739. | HIS CONVICTION AND CONVERSION. 25 
 
 story that I then beheld. My soul rejoiced with joy 
 unspeakable, to see such a God, such a glorious divine 
 Being; and I was inwardly pleased and Satisfied, 
 that he should be God over all for ever and ever. My 
 soul Was so captivated and delighted with the excel- 
 lency, ioveliness, greatness, and other perfections of 
 God, that I was even swallowed up in him; at least to 
 that degree that I had no thought, as I remember, at 
 first, about my own salvation, and scarce reflected that 
 there was such a creature as myself. 
 
 “Thus God, I trust, brought me to a hearty disposi- 
 tion to exalt him, and set him on the throne, and prir.- 
 cipally and ultimately to aim at his honor and glory, 
 as King of the universe. I continued in this state of 
 inward joy, peace and astonishment, till near dark, 
 w:thout 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; I was amazed that I had not dropped my 
 | own contrivances and complied with this lovely, blessed, 
 _ and excellent way before. If I could have been saved 
 _ by my own duties, or any other way that I had for- 
 _merly contrived, my whole saul wouid now have re- 
 fused. 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 
 | 3 Brainerd. 
 , 
 
26 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap ae 
 
 less degree. I could not but sweetly rejoice in God, 
 lying down and rising up. The next Lord’s day I felt 
 something of the same kind, though not so powerful 
 as before. But not long after, I was again involved in 
 darkness, and in great distress ; yet not of the same kind 
 with my distress under convictions. I was guilty, 
 afraid, and ashamed to come before God; and exceed- 
 ingly pressed with a sense of guilt; butit was not long 
 before I felt, I trust, true repentance and joy in God. 
 
 “In the beginiiing of September I went to Yale Col- 
 lege, and entered there; but with some degree of re- 
 luctance, lest I should not be able to lead a life of strict 
 religion in the midst of so many temptations. After 
 this, in the vacation, before I went to tarry at college, 
 it pleased God to visit my soul with clearer manifesta- 
 tions 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 
 ful! assurance of his favor, 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 en- 
 joyed considerable sweetness in religion all the winter 
 following. ¥ 
 
 “In Jan. 1740, the measles spread muck. in college, 
 and I, having taken the distemper, went home to Had- 
 dam. Butsome days before I was taken sick I seem- 
 ex to be greatly deserted, and my soul meurned the 
 absence of the Comforter exceedingly. It seeméd to 
 me that all comfort was for ever gone. 1 prayed and 
 cried to God for help, yet found no present comfort or 
 
 yh, 
 
 ~ A 
 
(740.] AT YALE COLLEGE. 27 
 
 relief. But through divine goodness, a night or two 
 before I was taken ill, while I was walking alone ina 
 very retired place, and engaged in meditation and prayer, 
 I enjoyed a sweet refreshing visit, as I trust, from above; 
 so that my soul was raised far above the fears of death. 
 Iideed, I rather longed for death, than feared it. Oh, 
 how much more refreshing this one season was, than 
 all the pleasures and delights that earth can afford. 
 After a day or two I was taken with the measles, and 
 was very ill indeed, so that I almost despaired of life; 
 but had no distressing fears of death. Through divine 
 goodness I soon recovered; yet, owing to hard study, 
 and to my being much exposed to interruptions on ac- 
 
 ‘count of my freshmanship, I had but little time for spi- 
 
 ritual duties, and 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 advan- 
 
 _ tages for retirement, and enjoyed more comfort in re- 
 
 | 
 
 ligion, though my ambition in my studies greatly 
 wronged the activity and vigor of my spiritual life. It 
 was, however, usually the case with me, that, “in the 
 
 | multitude of my thoughts within me, God’s comforts 
 
 _ principally delighted my soul.” These were my great- 
 
 est consolations day by day. 
 “One day, I think it was in June, 1740, I walked to 
 
 _ aconsiderable distance from college, in the fields alone, 
 
 at noon, and in prayer found such unspeakable sweet- 
 ness and delight in God, that I thought, if I must con- 
 tinue 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. Itseemed to be a little resemblance of heaven. 
 
 “Some time in August following I became so re- 
 duced in health by too close application to my studies, 
 
ere + 
 
 28 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. I. 
 
 that I was advised by my tutor to go home, and disen- 
 gage my mind from study as much as I could ; for I 
 was grown so weak that I began to raise blood. I took 
 his advice, and endeavored 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, I found divine help and 
 consolation in the precious duties of secret prayer and 
 self-examination, and my soul took delight in the bless- 
 ed 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 vileness. 1 never before had felt so 
 pungent and deep a sense of the odious nature of sin, 
 as at this time. My soul was then unusually carried 
 forth in love to God, and had a lively sense of God’s 
 love tome. And this love and hope, at that time cast 
 out fear. 
 
 Lord's day, Oct. 19. “In the morning I felt my soul 
 
 hungering and thirsting after righteousness. While I 
 
 was looking on the elements of the Lord’s Supper, and 
 thinking that Jesus Christ was now “set forth erucified 
 before me,” my soul was filled with light and leve, so 
 that I was almost in an ecstacy ; my body was so weak 
 I could scarcely stand. I felt at the same time an ex- 
 ceeding tenderness and most fervent love toward all 
 mankind; so that my soul and all its powers seemed, 
 as it were, to melt into softness and sweetness. But 
 
 during the communion there was some abatement of 
 
 this life and fervor. This love and joy cast out fear ; 
 and my soullonged for perfect grace and glory. This 
 frame continued till the evening, when my soul was 
 swectly spiritual in secret duties. 
 
 ~ / 
 
1740.] ‘AT YALE COLLEGE. 29 
 
 Oct. 20. “I again found the assistance of the Holy 
 Spirit in secret duties, both morning and evening, and 
 life and comfort in religion through the whole day. 
 
 Oct. 21. “Thad 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 seem- 
 _ ed to be taken up with divine things. I now so longed 
 _ after God, and to be freed from sin, that, when I felt 
 
 myself recovering, and thought I must return to college 
 again, which had proved so hurtful to my spiritual in- 
 
 _ terests the year past, I could not but be grieved, and 
 
 thought I had much rather die; 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 Noy. 
 4,) wherein my soul enjoyed unspeakable comfort. 
 
 “T returned to college about Nov. 6, and, through 
 the goodness of God, felt the power of religion almost 
 aeity, for the space os six weeks. 
 
 Nov. 28. “In my evening devotion I enjoyed pre- 
 cious discoveries of God, and was unspeakably refresh- 
 ed with that passage, Heb. 12: 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 
 { enjoyed much of the light of God’s countenance, 
 most of the day; and my soul rested in God. 
 
 Dec.9. “Iwas ina 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. 
 
 3* 
 
fa 
 
 30 LIFE OF BRAINERD, [ Chap. 1 
 
 “Toward the latter part of January, 1741, I grew 
 more cold and dull in religion, by means of my old 
 temptation, ambition in my studies. But through di- 
 vine goodness, a great and general awakening spread 
 itself over the college, about the end of February, 
 in which Iwas much quickened, and more abundantly 
 engaged. in religion.” 
 
 This awakening was at the beginning of that extra- 
 ordinary religious commotion which then prevailed 
 through the land, and in which the college shared 
 largely. For thirteen months from this time Brat 
 NERD kept a constant diary containing a very particu- - 
 jar account of what passed from day to day, making 
 two volumes of manuscripts; but when he lay on his 
 death bed he gave orders (unknown to me till after his 
 death) that these two volumes should be destroyed, 
 inserting a notice, at the beginning of the succeeding 
 manuscripts, that a specimen of his manner of living 
 during that entire period would. be found in the first 
 thirty pages next following, (ending with June 15, 
 1742,) except. that he was now more “refined from 
 some imprudences and indecent heats” than before. 
 
 A circumstance in the life of Bratnerp, which gave 
 great offence to the rulers of the College, and occa: 
 sioned his expulsion, it is necessary should be here 
 particularly related. During the awakening in Col- 
 lege, there were several religious students who asso- 
 ciated together for mutual conversation and assistance 
 in-spiritual things. These were wont freely to open 
 themselves one to another, as special and intimate 
 friends: Brarverp 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. 
 
. 
 
 1741.) AT YALE COLLEGE. 31 
 
 Whittlesey, 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. Whit- 
 tlesey having been unusually pathetic in his prayer, one 
 of Brainerd’s friends on this occasion asked him bi dig 
 he thought of Mr. Whittlesey ; he made answer, “He 
 has no more grace than this chair.” One of the fresh- 
 men happening at that time tobe near the hall, (though 
 not in the room,) over-heard these words ; ol 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, that Brainerd said 
 
 ; 
 
 this of some one of the rulers of the College. Where- 
 upon she informed the Rector, who sent for this fresh- 
 man and examined him. He told the Rector the words 
 which heheard 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 af- 
 fair ; and thought that it was injuriously extorted from 
 his friends, and then injuriously required of him—as 
 
 _ if he had been guilty of some open, notorious crime— 
 
 to make a public confession, and to humble himself be- 
 fore 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 Sepa- 
 rate 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 
 
 + > 2 
 
32 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. 11. 
 
 he did not expect to drop down dead for fining 
 scholars who followed Mr. Tennent to Milford, th 
 there was no proof of it ; (and Brainerd ever prof 
 that he did not remember saying any thing to tha 
 purpose, ) for these things he was eapelled the college. 
 
 How far the circumstances and exigencies of that 
 day might justify such great severity in the governorsot 
 the college, I will not undertake to determine; it beng 
 my aim, not to bring reproach on the authority of the 
 college, but only to do justice to the memory of a per- 
 son who was, I think, eminently one of those whose 
 memory is blessed.—The reader will see, in the sequel, 
 (particularly under date of Septemper 14, 15, 1743,) 
 in how christian a manner Brainerd conducted him- 
 self 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 ex- 
 pulsion was in the winter, 1742, while in his third 
 year at college. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 £ 
 
 From about the time when he began the sludy of Theology, 
 till he was licensed to preach. 
 
 April 1, 1742—July 29, 1742. 
 
 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 he was licensed 
 to preach ; but frequently rode to visit the neighboring 
 ministers, particularly Mr. Cooke of Stratford. Mr. 
 
1742.) WHILE STUDYING THEOLOGY. 23 
 
 am of Southbury, and Mr. Bellaiy of Bethle- 
 Phe following are extracts from his diary at 
 lis period. 
 "April 1, 1742.—“1 seem to be declining, with res- 
 pect to my life and warmth in divine things; have not 
 had so free access to God in prayer to-day as usual of 
 jate. 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 I am ena- 
 bled to exercise any grace renewedly, I am renewedly 
 indebted to the God of all grace for special assistance. 
 ““ Where then is boasting?” Surely “it is exeluded,” 
 when we think how we are dependent on God for the 
 existence and every act of grace. Qif 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 
 irom God! My soul will be astonished at the un- 
 searchable riches of divine grace when I arrive at the 
 mansions which the blessed Savior is gone before 
 to prepare. 
 April 2.—“ Tn the afternoon I felt, in seeret 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 Christ, and desired that the Lord 
 - would employ me in that work; but now my soul more 
 frequently desires to die, to be with Christ. Oh that 
 my soul were wrapt up in divine love, and my longing 
 desires after God inereased! In the evening was re- 
 freshed in prayer, with the hopes of the advancement . 
 _ of Christ’s kingdom in the world. 
 | Lords day, e: 4.— My heart was wandering 
 
34 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. II. 
 
 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 deli- 
 verance 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.” 
 
 April 6.—“T walked out this morning; had an af- 
 fecting sense cf my own vileness ; and cried to God to 
 cleanse me, to give me repentance and pardon. I then 
 began to find !t sweet to pray; and could think of un- 
 dergoing 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 Chris- 
 tian friends. 
 
 April 8.—“ Had raised hopes to-day respecting the 
 heathen. Oh 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 
 sees exceeding vile and little to me: I appear so to 
 myself. I had some little dawn of comfort to-day in 
 prayer; but especially to-night, I think I had some 
 faith and power of intercession with God. I was en- 
 abled 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 af wrestle for divine blessings. 
 
 . April 9.—“ Most of my time in morning devotion 
 was spent without sensible sweetness ; yet I had one 
 
 ~ 
 
| 1742.) WHILE STUDYING THEOLOGY. ee 
 
 delightful prospect of arriving at the heavenly world. 
 I am more amazed than ever at such thoughts; for J 
 see myself infinitely vile and unworthy. No poor 
 creature stands in need of divine grace more than], 
 and none abuse it more than I have done, and still do. 
 Lord’s day, April 11.—“ In the morning I felt but 
 little life ; yet my heart was somewhat drawn out in 
 thankfulness to God for his amazing grace and con- 
 descension to me, in past influences and assistances of 
 his Spirit. Afterward, I had some sweetness in the 
 thoughts of arriving at the heavenly world. O for the 
 happy day! After public worship, God gave me spe- 
 cial assistance in prayer; I wrestled with my dear 
 Lord, and intercession was made a delightful employ- 
 ment to me. In the evening, as I was viewing the 
 light in the north, I was delighted in the contemplation 
 of the glorious morning of the resurrection. 
 April 12.—“ This morning the Lord was pleased to 
 lift up the light of his countenance upon me in secret 
 prayer, and made the season very precious to my soul. 
 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. 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 ser- 
 vices. My faith lifted me above the world, and re- 
 moved all those mountains over which of late I could 
 not look. I wanted not the favor of man to lean upon ; 
 for I knew that Christ’s favor 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. 
 April 14.—* My, soul. longed for communion with 
 i Ms yok Sl aa 
 “i ' Abe 
 
 oe 
 
36 LIFE OF BRAINERD. | Chap. 11. 
 
 Christ, and. for the mortification of re a corrup- 
 tion, ‘especially spiritual pride. O, there is a sweet 
 day coming, wherein a the foes will be at. rest!” 
 My soul has enjoyed much sweetness this day, in the 
 hope of its speedy arrival. 
 
 April 15.—“ My desires apparently centered in God ; 
 and I found a sensible attraction of soul after him sun- 
 dry times to-day. I know that J long for God, and a 
 conformity to his will, in inward purity and holiness, 
 ten thousand times more than for any thing here 
 below. 
 
 Lords day, April 18.—* 1 retired early this morn- 
 ing into the woods for prayer; had the assistance of 
 God’s Spirt, 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, nc thing for 
 God, and that I had dived to him but a ‘Sore hours o1~ 
 my jie, 
 
 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. Ac- 
 cordingly, in the morning I endeavored 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 Savior in the world ; 
 ‘ and withal, a most sweet resignation, and even conso- 
 
 Ey: +h Hy 
 . ia ite a 
 
1742. } WHILE STUDYING THEOWOGY. 37 
 
 logis and joy, in the thoughts of suffering Sea i 
 distresses, and even death itself, in the promotion of its 
 and had special enlargement in pleading for the en- 
 lightening 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 ago- 
 nize in prayer, that I was quite wet with sweat, though 
 in the shade and the cool wind. My soul was drawn 
 out very much for the world; I grasped for muautitudes 
 of souls. I think I had more enlargement for sinners 
 
 | than for the children of Ged ; though I felt as if I could 
 | Sper my life in cries for both. I had great enjoy- 
 
 ment in communion with my dear Savior. . I think I 
 never in my life felt such an entire weanedness from 
 
 _ this world, and so much resigned to God in every 
 thing. Othat 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 “zaused his goodness to 
 
 | pass before me!” And how poorly have I answered 
 
 the vows I made one year since, to be wholly the 
 Lord’s, to be for ever devoted to his service! The 
 
 Lord help me to live more to his glory for the time to 
 _come. This has been a sweet, a happy day to me; 
 
 blessed be God. I think my soul wag 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 live to 
 
 God, and tobe altogether devoted to him ; I wanted to 
 
 wear out my life in his service, and for his | 
 April 21, “Felt much calmness and resigna 
 
 and God again enabled me to wrestle for pent of t 
 | Souls, and gave me fervenc in 
 
 Brainerd 
 
 ‘the sweet duty of of in ; 
 
38. LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. 11. 
 
 tercession. I enjoy of late more sweetness in inter- 
 cession for others, than in any other part of prayer. 
 My blessed Lord really let me come near to him, and 
 plead with him. : 
 
 Lord’s day, April 25. “This morning I spent about 
 two hours in secret duties, and was enabled, more than 
 ordinarily, to agonize for immortal souls. 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 sweet- 
 ness. Psa. 84:7. “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 ad- 
 dresses to him! This may well be termed “appearing 
 before God :” it is so indeed, in the true spiritual sense, 
 and in the sweetest sense. I think that I have not had 
 such power of intercession these many months, both 
 for God’s children, and for dead sinners, as I have had 
 
 ‘this evening. I wished and longed for the coming of 
 
 my dear Lord: I longed to join the angelic hosts in 
 praises, wholly free from imperfection. O, the blessed 
 moment hastens! All I-want is to be more holy, more 
 like my dear Lord. Oh for sanctification! My very 
 soul pants for the complete restoration of the biessed 
 image of my Savior; that I may be fit for the blessed — 
 
 “enjoyments and employments of the heavenly world. 
 
 “Farewell, vain world; my soul can bid Adieu 
 “My Savior taught me to abandon you. 
 “Your charms may gratify a SENSUAL mind; 
 
 _ “Butcannot please a soul for Gop design’d. 
 “Forbear t’ entice; cease then my soul to call; 
 “? Tis fixed through grace; my God shall be my ann. 
 “While he thus lets me heavenly glories view, 
 “Your beauties fade, my heart’s no room for you.” 
 
 ae ee 
 
1742.) . WHILE STUDYING THEOLOGY. 39 
 
 “The Lord refreshed my soul with many sweet pas- 
 sages 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!” 
 
 “Lord, I’m a stranger here alone: 
 “Earth no true comforts can afford; 
 “Yet, absent. from my dearest one, 
 “My soul delights to cry ‘My Lord!’ 
 
 “ Jnsus, my Lord. my only love, 
 Possess my soul, nor thence depart: 
 
 “ Grant me kind visits, heavenly Dove ; 
 “My God shall then have all my heart.” 
 
 April 27. “I arose and retired early for secret de- 
 votions; 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 Sa- 
 vior! whom have I in Heaven but thee? and there is 
 none upon earth that I desire beside thee.” If I had 
 a thousand lives, my soul would gladly have laid them 
 all down at once, to have been with Curist. My soul 
 never enjoyed so much of heaven before; it was the 
 most refined and most spiritual season of communion 
 with God I ever yet felt. 
 
 April 28.—“I withdrew to my usual place of retire- 
 ment, in great peace and tranquility, spent about two 
 hours in secret duties, and felt much as I did yester- 
 day morning, only weaker, and more overcome, I 
 seemed to depend wholly on my dear Lord; weaned 
 fi 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 inall things. Thirsting desires after perfect holi- 
 ness, and insatiable longings possessed my soul. iGge 
 
¥ 
 
 40 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. 1), 
 
 was so precious to me that the world, with all its enjoy 
 ments, was infinitely vile. I had no more value for 
 the favor of men, than for pebbles. The Lorp wasmy 
 ALL, and that he over-ruled all, greatly delighted me. 
 I think that my faith and dependence on God scarce 
 ever rose so high. I saw him such a Jountain of good- 
 ness that it seemed impossible I should distrusi nim 
 again, or be any way anxious abont any thing that 
 should happen to me. I now had great satisfaction 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 un- 
 happiness arose from my being a sinner. With resig- 
 nation, I could bid welcome to all other trials; but sin 
 hung heavy upon me; for God discovered to me the 
 corruption of my heart. J went to bed with a heavy 
 heart, becuuse Iwas a sinner ; though I did not in the 
 least doubt of God’s love. O that God would “ purge 
 away my dross, and take away my tin,” and make me 
 ten times refined ! 
 
 May 1.—“1I was enabled to ery to God with fer- 
 vency for ministerial qualifications, that he would ap- 
 pear for the advancement of his own kingdom, and 
 that he would bring in the Heathen. Had much assis- 
 tance in my studies. This has been a profitable week 
 to me; I have enjoyed many communications of. the 
 blessed Spirit in my soul. 
 
 May 3.—‘“ Had a sense of vile ingratitude. Inthe 
 ‘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 muca 
 
 — 
 
ey 
 
 ' 1742.4 WHILE STUDYING THEOLOGY. 4b 
 
 power of wrestling for his cause and kingdom ; and it 
 was a happy day to my soul. God was with me all 
 the day; and I was more above the world than ever in 
 my life. 
 
 May 13.—(At Wethersfield.) “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 therein me! Lord deliver my soul! 
 (could not find any convenient place for retirement, 
 and was greatly exercised. Rode to Hartford in the 
 afternoon; had some refreshment and comfort in reli- 
 gious exercises with christian friends; but longed for 
 more retirement. O, the closest wa!k with God is the 
 sweetest heaven that can be enjoyed on earth! 
 
 June 14.—“ Felt somewhat of the sweetness of com- 
 munion with God, and the constraining force of his 
 love; how admirably it captivates the soul, and makes 
 all the desires and affections centre in God !—I set 
 apart this day for secret fasting and prayer, to entreat 
 God to direct and bless me with regard to the great work 
 | which Ihave in view, of preaching the gospel—and that 
 . the Lord would return to me, and individually “show 
 me the light of his countenance.” Had little life and 
 power in the forenoon: near the middle of the afternoon 
 God enabled me to wrestle ardently in intercession for 
 absent friends: but just at night the Lord visited me 
 marvyellously in er. 1 think my soul never Was in 
 such an agony before. I felt no restraint, for the trea- 
 
 - of divin@ grace were opened to me. I wrestled 
 fal absent friends, for the ingathering of souls, for 
 multitudes of poor souls, and for many that I prenets 
 were the children of G 
 
ip 
 
 (7 
 
 42 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. I. 
 
 was in such an agony, from half an hour before sun- 
 set, till near dark, that I was all over wet with sweat: 
 but yet it seemed to me that I had wasted away the 
 day, and had done nothing. O, my dear Savior did 
 sweat blood for poor souls! I longed for more com- 
 passion toward them. Felt still in a sweet frame, under 
 asense of divine love and grace; and went to bed: in 
 such a frame, with my heart set on God. 
 
 June 15.—“ Had the most ardent longings after God. 
 At noon, in my secret retirement, I could do nothing 
 but tell my dear Lord, in a sweet calm, that he knew | 
 desired nothing but himself, nothing but holiness ; that 
 he had given me these desires, and he only could give 
 ine the thing desired. I never seemed to be so un- 
 hinged 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 be- 
 ing, 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 struggiings 
 than,before ; for it seems far too little, if I could al- 
 ways be so. O how short do I fall of my duty in my | 
 sweetest moments! 
 
 June 18.—“ Considering my great unfitness for the 
 
 _ work of the ministry, my present deadhess, and total 
 inability to.do any thing for the glory of God that way, 
 feeling myself very helpless, and at a great loss what 
 the Lord would have me to do; Is art this day for 
 
 4 
 
 a em 
 
ry. 
 se 
 
 ? 
 1742.] WHILE STUDYING THEOLOGY. 43 
 
 prayer to Ged, and spent most of the day in that duty 
 but was amazingly deserted most ‘of the day. Yet] 
 found God graciously near, once in particular ; while 1 
 
 | was pleading for more compassion for immortal souls, 
 _ my heart seemed to be opened at once, and I was ena- 
 _ bled to cry with great ardency for afew minutes. O, 
 | Iwas distressed to think, that I should offer such dead 
 cold services to the living God! My soul seemed to 
 
 breathe after holiness, a life of constant devotedness to 
 | God. But Iam almost lost sometimes in the pursuit 
 of this blessedness, and ready to sink, because ! con- 
 tinuaily fall short, and miss of my desire. .O that the 
 Lord would help me to hold out, yet a little while, until 
 the happy hour of deliverance comes! 
 
 June 30.—“ Spent this day alone in the woods, in 
 
 | fasting and prayer ; underwent the most dreadful con- 
 _ flicts in my soul. 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 
 aleaf. Spent almost the whole day in prayer, inces- 
 santly. I could not bear to think of Christians show- 
 ing me any respect. I almost despaired of doing any 
 service in the world: I could not feel any hope or 
 ' comfort respecting the heathen, which used to afford 
 me some refreshment in the darkest hours of this na- 
 ture. I spent the day in bitterness of soul. Near 
 night I felt a little better; and afterward enjoyed 
 some sweetness in secret prayer. 
 
 July 1—“ Had some enjoyment in prayer this morn- 
 / mg; and far more than usual in secret prayer to-night, 
 | and desired nothing so ardently as that Gy should do 
 
 with me just as he pleased. 
 | Sulu 2.—* le in secret prayer in the 
 t 
 
 | 
 
 | viii 
 
 ome 
 
v 
 - 
 ¢ 4 
 
 44 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. II. 
 
 morning. My desires ascended to God this day, as 
 I was traveling: was Comfortable in the evening. 
 Blessed be God for all my consolations. . 
 
 July 3.—* My heart seemed again to sink. The dis- 
 grace I was laid under at college seemed to damp my 
 spirits ; 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 sea- 
 son 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 tome. I hoped that my Weary pilgrimage in 
 the world would be short ; and that it would not be 
 long before 1 should be 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, and much more 
 resigned. I felt pleased to be little, to be nothing, and 
 to lie in the dust. I enjoyed life and consolation in 
 pleading for the dear children of God, and the king-. 
 dom of Christ in the world: and my soul earnestly 
 breathed after holiness, and, the enjoyment of God. 
 “ O come, Lord Jesus, come quickly.” 
 
 _ | July 29.—“ I was examined by the Association met 
 at Danbury, as to my learning, and also my experience 
 
 in religion, and received a licence from them to preach 
 
 _ the Gospel of Christ. Afterward 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.” 
 
 ~~ 
 
1742.) WHILE A LICENTIATE. 45 
 
 CHAPTER Ifi. 
 
 | From his being licensed to preach, till he was commissioned as a 
 
 Missionary. 
 July 30.—Nov. 25, 1742. 
 
 July 30, 1742.—“ Rode from Danbury to South- 
 bury ; preached there, from 1 Pet.4:8. Had much 
 
 _ of the comfortable presence of God in the exereise. I 
 
 seemed to have power with God in prayer, and powen 
 to get hold of the hearts of the people in preaching. 
 Aug. 12. (Near Kent.)—“ This morning and last 
 night I was exercised with sore inward trials: I had 
 no power to pray; but seemed shut out from God. I 
 
 | had in a great measure Jost my hopes of God’s send- 
 ing me among the Heathen afar off, and of seeing 
 them flock home to Christ. 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 
 [never could preach any more; yet about nine or ten 
 
 o’clock the people came over, and I was forced to 
 preach ; and blessed be God, he gave me his presence 
 and Spirit-in prayer and preaching; so that I was 
 much assisted, and spake with power, from Job, 14: 14, 
 , Some Indians residing here, cried out in great dis- 
 “tress, and all appeared erent concerned. After we 
 had prayed and exhorted them to seek the Lord with 
 _eonstaney, and hired an Englishwoman to keep a kind 
 of school among them, we came away.” 
 
 Lord's day, Auer. 15.—“ Felt much comfort and de- 
 votedness to God thisday. At night, it was refresh- 
 ig to get alone with God, and pow7 owt my soul. O, 
 
 af 
 
 1 
 i 
 } 
 i 
 
= 
 
 <a 
 
 46 LIFE OF BRAINERD. ' Chap. I. 
 
 who can conceive of the sweetness of communion 
 with the blessed God, but those who have experience 
 of it! Glory to cy for ever, that 1 may taste heavy en 
 below. 
 
 Aug. 17.—“ jirecoaidiely depressed in spirit, it cuts 
 and wounds my heart to think how much self-exalta- 
 tion, spiritual pride, and warmth of temper, I have 
 formerly had intermingled with my endeavors to pro- 
 mote God’s work: and sometimes I long to lie down 
 at the feet of opposers, and confess what a poor im- 
 perfect creature [I have been, and still am. ‘The Lord 
 forgive me, and make me, for the future, “ wise asa 
 serpent, and harmless as a dove !” Afterward en- 
 joyed considerable;comfort and delight of soul. 
 
 Aug. 19.—“ This day, being about to go from’ Mr. 
 Bellamy’s, at Lethlehem, where I had resided some 
 time, I raped with him ibe two or three other Chris- 
 tian 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. 23.—“ Had a sweet season in secret prayer: 
 the Lord. drew near to my soul, and filled me with 
 peace afd divine consolation. O, my soul tasted the 
 sweetness of heaven; and was drawn out in prayer 
 for the world, that it might come home to Christ! 
 Had much comfort in the thoughts and hopes of the 
 ingathering of the Heathen; was greatly assisted in 
 intercession for-Christian friends. y 
 
 Sept. 1—“ Went to Judea to the ordination of Mr. 
 Judd. Mr. Bellamy preached from Matt. 24: 46. 
 ‘Blessed is that servant whom his Lord, when he 
 
 ¥ 
 
 a 
 
1742.] WHILE A LICENTIATE. 47 
 
 cometh, shall find so doing.’ I felt very solemn; had 
 my thoughts much on that time when our Lord will 
 come, which refreshed my soul much; only I was 
 afraid i should not be found 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, con- 
 versed with some friends till it was very late, and then 
 retired to rest in a comfortable frame. 
 
 Sept. 4.—“ Much out of health, ex¢eedingly depressed 
 in my soul, and at awful distance from God. Toward 
 night, spent some time in profitable thoughts on Rom. 
 8:2. Near night, had a very sweet season in prayer ; 
 God enabled me to wrestle ardently for the advance- 
 ment of the Redeemer’s kingdom ; pleaded earnestly 
 for my own dear brother John, (who at length became 
 his successor as a Missionary to the Indians,) that-God 
 would make him more of a pilgrim and stranger on 
 the earth, and fit him for singular serviceableness in 
 the world ; and my heart sweetly exulted in the Lord, 
 in the thoughts of any distresses that might alight on 
 him or on me, in the advancement of Christ’s king- 
 
 ‘dom. It was asweet and comfortable hour unto my 
 - soul, while I was indulged with freedom to plead, not 
 only for myself, but also for many other souls. 
 
 Sept. 16.—*“‘ At night, enjoyed much of God, in se- 
 eret prayer: felt an uncommon resignation to be and 
 do what God pleased. Some days past I felt great 
 perplexity on account of my past conduct: my bitter- 
 ness, 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 ! 
 
 Oct. 21.—“ Had avery deep sense of the vanity of 
 
 a 
 
48 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. If. 
 
 the world, most of the day ; had litt!e more regard to 
 it, than if I had been to go into eternity the next hour. 
 Through divine goodness, I felt very serious and 
 svlemn. O J love to live on the brink of eternity, inmy 
 views and meditations! This gives mea sweet, awful 
 and reverential sense and apprehension of God an 
 divine things, when I see myself as it were, standing 
 before the judgment seat of Christ. 
 
 Oct. 22.—“ Uncommonly weaned from the world to 
 day: my soul delighted to be a “stranger and pilgrim 
 on the earth ;” I felt a disposition in me never to have 
 any thing to do with this world. The character given 
 of some of the ancient people of God, in Heb. 11 : 13, 
 was very pleasing to me, “ They confessed that they 
 were pilgrims and strangers on the earth,” by their 
 daily practice; and O that I could always do so! 
 Spent some time in a pleasant grove, in ‘prayer and 
 meditation. O it is sweet to be thus weaned from 
 friends, and from myself, and dead to the present 
 world, that so I may live wholly to and upon the 
 blessed God! Saw myself little, low and vile as I am 
 in myself. In the afternoon preached at Bethlehem 
 from Deut. 8:2. God helped me to speak to the 
 hearts of dear Christians. Blessed be the Lord for this 
 season: I trust they and I shall rejoice on this account. 
 to all eternity. Dear Mr. Bellamy came in while I 
 was making the first prayer, (having returned home 
 
 from a journey,) and after meeting we walked. away 
 together, and spent the evening in sweetly conversing 
 on divine things, and praying together, with tender 
 
 _love to each other, and retired to rest with our heat 
 in a serious spiritual frame. = 
 
 Oct. 26.—“[At West Suffield.] Was in great dis- 
 tress, under a sense of my own unworthiness. It 
 
 + 
 
 * 
 is. ee 
 
 7 
 
1742.] WHILE A LICENTIATE. 49 
 
 seemed to me that I deserved rather to be driven out 
 of the place, than to have any body treat me with 
 kindness, or come to hear me preach. And verily my 
 Spirits were so depressed at this time (as at many 
 others) that it was impossible I should treat immortal 
 souls with faithfulness. I could not deal closely and 
 faithfully with them, I felt so infinitely vile in myself. 
 O what dust and ashes I am, to think of preaching the 
 Gospel to others! Indeed, I never can be faithful for 
 one moment, but shall certainly “daub with untem 
 pered mortar,” if God do not grant me special help. 
 In the evening I went to the meeting-house, and it 
 looked to me near as easy for one to rise out of the 
 
 grave and preach, as for me. ° However, God afforded 
 
 me some life and power, both in prayer and sermon; 
 and was pleased to lift me up, and show me that he 
 could enable me to preach. O the wonderful goodness 
 of God to sovile a sinner! Returned to my lodgings, 
 and enjoyed some sweetness in prayer alone, and 
 mourned that I could not live more to God. - 
 November 4.—“ [At Lebanon.] Saw much of my 
 nothingness most of this day ; but felt concerned that: 
 [had no more sense of my insufficiency and unwor- 
 thiness. O it is sweet lying in the dust! But it'is dis- 
 tressing to feel in my soul that hell of corruption 
 which still remains in me. In the afternoon had a 
 sense of the sweetness of a strict, close, and constant 
 devotedness to God, and my soul was comforted with 
 his consolations. My soul felt a pleasing, yet painful 
 concern, lest I should spend some moments without 
 God. O may I always live to God! In the evening I 
 was visited by some friends, and spent the time in 
 prayer, and such conversation as tended to our edifica- 
 tion. It was a comfortable season to my soul : I felt an 
 5 Brainerd. 
 
by | 
 ee te 
 
 50 LIFE OF BRAINERD, > [Chap. II, 
 
 intense-desire to spend every moment for God. God 
 is unspeakably gracious to me continually. In times 
 past, he has given me inexpressible sweetness in the 
 performance of duty. Frequently my soul has enjoyed 
 much of God ; but has been ready to say, “ Lord, it is 
 good to be here,” and so to indulge sloth, while I have 
 lived on my enjoyments. But of late, God has been 
 pleased to keep my, soul hungry, almost continually ; 
 so that I have been filled with a kind of pleasing pain. 
 When I really enjoy God I feel my desires of him the 
 more insatiable, and my thirstings after holiness the 
 more unquenchable; and the Lord will not allow me 
 to feel as though I were fully supplied and satisfied, 
 but keeps me still reaching forward. I feel barren and 
 empty, as though I could not live without more of 
 God; I feel ashamed and guilty before him. I see that 
 “the law is spiritual, but I am carnal.” Ido not, I 
 cannot live to God. O for holiness! O for more of 
 God in my soul! O 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 consequently, I am en- 
 gaged to “press toward the mark,” day by day. O 
 that I may feel this continual hunger, and not be re- 
 tarded, but rather animated, by every cluster from Ca- | 
 naan, to reach forward in the narrow way for the full 
 enjoyment and possession of the heavenly inheritance! 
 O that I may never loiter in my heavenly journey !” 
 
 Lord’s day, Nov. '7.—“ [At Millington.] It seemed 
 as if such an unholy wretch as I never could arrive at 
 that blessedness, to be “holy, as God is holy.” At | 
 noon, I longed for sanctification, and conformity to 
 God. O that is THe att, THE aut. The Lord help me 
 to press after God for ever. ee 
 
 ¥ ; 
 aie 
 af et — 
 
a ae 
 ot 
 
 1742.) ’ WHILE A LICENTIATE. 51 
 Nov. 8.—“ Toward night, enjoyed much sweetness 
 | jin secret prayer. so that my soul longed for an arrival 
 
 in the heavenly country, the blessed paradise of God. 
 Through divine goodness I have scarce seen the day 
 _ for two months, in which death has not looked so plea- 
 sant to me, at one time or other of the day, that I could 
 _ have rejoiced that it should be my last, notwithstand- 
 _ ing my present inward trials and conflicts. I trust the 
 Lord will finally make me a conqueror, and more than 
 | a conqueror ; and that I shall be able to use that trium- 
 phant language, “ O death, where is thy sting ! O grave, 
 where is thy victory !” 
 
 Nov. 19.—“ [At New-Haven.] Received a letter from 
 _ the Rev. Mr. Pemberton, of New-York, desiring me 
 speedily to go down thither, and consult in reference 
 _ to the evangelizing of the Indians 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.” 
 
 Nov. 24.—“ Came to New-York; felt still much con- 
 cerned about the importance of my business; made 
 many earnest requests to God for his help and direc= 
 tion; was confused with the noise and tumult of the 
 _city ; enjoyed but little time alone with God; but my 
 | soul longed after him. 
 _ Nov. 25.—“ Spent much time in prayer and suppli- 
 cation : was examined in reference to my Christian ex- 
 perience, my acquaintance with divinity, and some 
 other studies and my Shalifications for the important 
 
 a 
 
' ‘pointed if they knew my inside! O my heart! And 
 
 - Mess, and endeavored as muchas I could to keep alone. 
 _ O what a nothing, what dust and ashes amI! Enjoyed 
 
 = 
 52 LIFE OF BRAINERD. _ [Chap. Iv 
 
 work of evangelizing the heathen ,* and was made sen- — 
 sible of my great ignorance and unfitness for public 
 service. I had the most abasing thoughts of myself; 
 I felt that I was the worst wretch that ever lived: it 
 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 disap- 
 
 | 
 : 
 | 
 : 
 : 
 : 
 / 
 . 
 
 in this depressed condition I was foreed to go and 
 preach to a considerable assembly, before some grave 
 and learned ministers ; but felt such a pressure from 2 
 sense of my vileness, ignorance, and unfitness to ap- 
 pear 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. 
 [ 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.” 
 
 CHAPTER Iv. 
 From his appointment os a Missionary, to his commencing kis | 
 Mission among the Indians at Kaxnaumeck, in New-York. 
 ; Nov. 26, 1742—Merch 31, 1743. 
 Nov. 26, 1742.—“ Had still a sense of my great vile- 
 
 * Mr. Brainerd was examined by the correspondents in New 
 York, New-Jersey. and Pennsylvania, of the Society im Scot- 
 land for propagating Christian knowledge ; toy on e 
 
 ¥ i i anne 
 
1742.] WHILE A LICENTIATE. 53 
 
 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 unworthiness. ‘Surely I may well 
 love all my brethren; for none of them all is so vile 
 as I: whatever they do outwardly, yet it seems to me 
 none is conscious of so much guilt before God. O my 
 
 _ leanness, my barrenness, my carnality, and past bitter- 
 
 ness, and want of a gospel temper! These things op- 
 press my soul. Rode from New-York, thirty miles, to 
 White Plains, and most of the way continued lifting 
 up my heart to God for mercy and purifying grace; 
 and spent the evening much dejected in spirit. 
 
 Dec. 1.—‘ My soul breathed after God, in sweet 
 spiritual and longing desires of conformity to him, 
 and was brought to rest itself 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 wenta 
 
 _ 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. 
 
 Dec. 11.“ Conversed with a dear friend, to whom 
 I had thought of giving a liberal education, and being 
 at the whole charge of it, that he might be fitted forthe 
 gospel ministry.* I acquainted him with my thoughts 
 
 * Brainerd, haying now undertaken the business of a mis- 
 sionary to the Indians, and having some estate left him by his 
 
 | father, judged that there was no way in which he could spend 
 | it more for the glory of God, than by being at the charge of 
 5 
 
y 
 
 54 .. LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. IV 
 
 on the subject, and so lefi 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 com- 
 mended the concern of sending my friend to college 
 to the God of all grace. Blessed be the Lord for this 
 evening’s opportunity together. : 
 
 Lords day, Dec. 12.—“T felt, in the morning, as if 
 Thad little or no power either to pray or preach; and 
 felt a distressing need of divine help. I went to meeting 
 wembling ; 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 
 satisfaction, from Matt. 6: 33. “But seek ye first the 
 kingdom of God,” &c.; and in the afternoon, from 
 Rom. 15: 30. “And now I beseech you brethren,” 
 &ec. There was much affection in the assembly, This 
 has been a sweet Sabbath to me; and blessed be God, 
 I have reason to think that my religion has become 
 more spiritual by means of my late inward conflicts. 
 Amen. May I always be willing that God should use 
 his own methods with me! 
 
 Dec, 14.—“Some perplexity hung on my mind; I 
 was distressed last night and this morning for the in- 
 terests of Zion, especially on account of the Salse ap- 
 pearances of religion, that do but rather breed confu- 
 — ° ' 
 educating some young man of talents and piety for the minis- 
 try. The young man here spoken of was selected for this pur- 
 pose, and received his education at Brainerd’s expense, so 
 Jong as his benefactor lived, which was till he was carried 
 
 through his third year in college. mS : 
 
¥ 
 
 1742.] WHILE A LICENTIATE. 55 
 
 sion, especially in some places. I cried to God for 
 help, to enable me to bear testimony against those 
 things, which, instead of promoting, do but hinder the 
 progress of vital piety. In the afternoon, rode down 
 to Southbury, and conversed again with my friend 
 on the important subject of his pursuing the work of 
 the ministry; and he appeared much inclined to de- 
 vote himself to it, if God should succeed his attempts 
 to qualify himself for so great a work. In the evening 
 I preached from 1 Thess. 4:8, and endeavored, though 
 with tenderness, to undermine false religion. 'The 
 Lord gave me some assistance. 
 
 Dec. 15.—“ Enjoyed something of God to-day, both 
 in secret and social prayer ; but was sensible of much 
 barrenness and defect in duty, as well as my inability to 
 help myself for the time to come, or to perform the 
 work and business I have todo. Afterward, 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, from time to time 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,we should not meet 
 
 _ again till we came to the eternal world.* I doubt not 
 
 but, through grace, some of us shall have a happy 
 
 *ft had been determined by the Commissioners, who em- 
 ployed Brainerd as a missionary, that he should go, as soon as 
 might be conveniently, to the Indians living near the Forks of 
 Delaware river, and the Indians on Susquehanna river. The 
 distance of those places, and his probable exposure to many 
 hardships and dangers, was the occasion of his taking leave 
 of his friends in this manner. , 
 
56 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. IV. 
 
 meeting there, and biess God for this season, as well as 
 many others. Amen. tad 
 
 Dec. 18. “Spent much time in prayer in the woods ; 
 and seemed raised above the things of the world: my 
 soul was strong in the Lord of Hosts ; but was sensible 
 of great barrenness. 
 
 Dec, 23.—“ Enjoyed, I trust, the presence of God 
 this morning in secret. O, how divinely sweet is it 
 to come into the secret of his presence, and abide in 
 his pavilicn ! 
 
 Dec. 27.—“ Enjoyed a precious season indeed ; had 
 a melting sense of divine things, of the pure spirituality 
 of the religion of Christ Jesus. In the evening I 
 preached from Matt. 6:33. with much freedom, power 
 and pungency: the presence of God attended our meet- 
 ing. O, the sweetness, the tenderness I felt in my 
 soul! If ever I felt the temper of Christ, I had some 
 sense of it now. Blessed be my God, I have seldom 
 enjoyed a more comfortable and profitable day than 
 this. O, that I could spend all my time for God! 
 
 Jan. 14, 1743.—“My spiritual conflicts to-day were 
 unspeakably dreadful, heavier than the mountains and 
 over-flowing floods. I was deprived of all sense of 
 God, even of the being of a God; and that was my 
 misery. The torments of the damned, I am sure, will 
 consist much in a privation of God, and consequ 
 of all good. This taught me the absolute dependence 
 of a creature upon God the Creator, for every crumb 
 of happiness it enjoys. O, I feel that, if there is no | 
 God, though I might live for ever here, and enjoy not 
 only this, but all other worlds, I should be ten thousand 
 
 es more miserable than a reptile. be 
 
 Lord’s day, Jan. 23.—‘TI scarce ever felt myself so 
 unfit to exist as now: saw I was not worthy of a place 
 i 
 
1743. | WHILE A LICENTIATE. 57 
 
 among the Indians, where I am going, if God permit: 
 thought I should be ashamed to look them in the face, 
 and much more to have any respect shown me there. 
 Indeed I felt myse!f banished from the earth, as if all 
 
 ‘places were too good for such a wretch. I thought I 
 
 should be ashamed to go among the very savages of 
 Africa; I appeared to myself a creature fit for nothing, 
 neither heaven nor earth. None know but those who 
 feel it, what the soul endures that is sensibly shut out 
 from the presence of God: alas! it is more bitter than 
 death. 
 
 Feb. 2.—“ Preached my farewell sermon last night, 
 at the house of an.aged man, who had been unable to 
 attend on public worship for some time. This morn- 
 ing spent the time in prayer, almost wherever I went ; 
 and having taken leave of friends, Isetouton my journey 
 toward the Indians; though I was first to spend some 
 weeks at East-Hampton, on Long-Island, by leave of 
 the commissioners; the winter season being judged 
 unfavorable for the commencement of the mission. 
 
 Feb. 12.—[At East-Hampton.] “Enjoyed a little 
 more comfort ; was enabled to meditate with some com- 
 
 | posure of mind; and especially in the evening, found 
 
 my soul more refreshed in prayer than at any time of 
 late ; my soulseemed to “take hold of God’s strength,” 
 and was comforted with his consolations. O, how 
 sweet are some glimpses of divine glory! how Saat 
 ening and quickening ! 
 
 Feb. 15. “Early in the day I felt some comfort, 
 afterward I walked into a neighboring grove, and felt 
 more as a stranger on earth, I think, than ever before; 
 dead to any of the enjoyments of the world. In the 
 evening had divine sweetness in secret duty: God was 
 then my portion, and my soul rose above those deep 
 
‘ 
 58 ; LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. IV 
 
 waters, into'which I have sunk so low of late. My 
 soul then cried for Zion, and had sweetness in so doing.” 
 
 Feb. 17.—“ Preached this day at a little village in 
 East-Hampton; and God was pleased to give me his 
 gracious presence and assistance, so that I spake with 
 freedom, boldness, and some power. In the evening 
 
 spent some time with a dear Christian friend; and) 
 
 felt serious, as on the brink of eternity. Our inter- 
 view was truly a little emblem of heaven itself. I find 
 my soul is more refined and weaned from a depen- 
 dence on my frames and spiritual feelings. 
 
 Feb. 18.—“Had some enjoyment most of the day, 
 and found access to the throne of grace. Blessed be 
 the Lord for any intervals of heavenly delight and 
 composure, while I am engaged in the field of battle. 
 O, that I might be serious, solemn, and always vigi- 
 Jant, while in an evil world! Had some opportunity 
 alone to-day, and found some freedom in study. 0, I 
 long to live to God!” ° 
 
 During the next two weeks it appears that for the 
 " most part he enjoyed much spiritual peace and com- 
 fort. In his diary for this space of time, are expressed 
 
 . a. . . a, @ 
 such things as these; mourning over indwelling sin, 
 
 unprofitableness ; deadness to the world; longing after 
 God, and to live to his glory; heart melting desires 
 after his eternal home; fixed relianee on God for his 
 help; experience of much divine assistance, both in 
 the private and public exercises of religion ; inward 
 strength and courage in the service of God; very fre- 
 
 quent refreshment, consolation, and divine sweetness 
 
 in meditation, prayer, preaching, and Christian conver- 
 sation. And it appears by his account, that this space 
 of time was filled up with great diligence and earnest- 
 ness in serving God; in study, prayer, meditation, 
 preaching, and privately instructing and counseling. 
 
 a ae 
 
 ee 
 
1743.] WHILE A LICENTIATE. 59 
 
 March 7.—“ This: morning when I arose I found — 
 
 my heart go forth after God in longing desires of con- 
 formity tohim, and in secret prayer found myself sweet- 
 ly quickened and drawn out in praises to God for all 
 he had done to and for me, and for all my inward trials 
 and distress of late. My heart ascribed glory, ‘glory, 
 ‘glory to the blessed God! and bid welcome to all in- 
 ward distress again, if God: saw meet to exercise me 
 with it. Time appeared but an inch long, and eternity 
 at hand ; and I thought I could with patience and 
 Bheerfulness 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. 
 
 Lord’s day, March 13. “ At noon, I thought it im- 
 possible for me to preach, by reason of bodily weak- 
 ness and inward deadness. In the first prayer, I was 
 
 __ so weak that I could scarcely @and ; but in the sermon, 
 
 aS OO 
 
 God strengthened me, so that I eke near an hour and 
 a half with sweet eden , clearness, and some tender 
 power, from Gen. 5:24. “ And Enoch walked with 
 God.” I was sweetly assisted to insist on a close walk: 
 ‘aith God, and to leave this as my parting advice to 
 God’s people here, that they should “ walk with God.” 
 May the God of all grace succeed my poor labors in 
 
 = place! : 
 h 14. “In the morning was very busy in pre- 
 
 pall for my journey, and was almost continually 
 | engaged in ejaculatory prayer. About ten took leave 
 | of the dear people: of East-Hampton ; 3 my heart grieved 
 
 ejoiced at the same time; rode near 
 ar ‘Brook-Haven, and lodged ‘there, 
 and had refreshin ‘conversation with a Christian 
 
60 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. IV 
 
 In two days more he reached New-York ; but com. 
 plains 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. 
 
 March. 19. “Was bitterly distressed under a sense 
 of my ignorance, darkness, and unworthiness; re 
 alone, and poured out my complaint to God eae 
 terness of my soul. In the afternoon rode to Newar 
 and had some sweetness in conversation and prayer 
 with Mr. Burr. O blessed be God for ever and ever, for 
 any enlivening and quickening seasons. 
 
 Lord’s day, March 20. “ Preached in the forenoon: 
 God gave me some assistance, and 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 edi- 
 fication of God’s peoplg; and with some power to sin- 
 ners. In the evening 1 was 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! i 
 
 On Monday he went to Woodbridge, New-Jersey, 
 where he met the Correspondents, w 0, instead of send- 
 ing him to the Indians at the Forks of the Delaware, 
 as before intended, directed him to go to a number of 
 Indians at Kacusumceee a place in New-York, in the 
 woods between Stockbridge. and Albany. This alte- 
 ration was occasioned by two things. 1. Information 
 
 _ which the correspondents had received of some con- 
 ention between the white people and the Indians on 
 the Delaware, concerning their lands; which ey sup- 
 
3 i 
 1743.) ; AT KAUNAUMEEK. $1 
 
 posed would be a hinderance to the success of a mis- 
 sionary among them atthattime. 2. Some intimations 
 which they had received from Mr. Sergeant, Mission- 
 ary to the Indians at Stockbridge, concerning the In- 
 dians at Kaunaumeek, and the hopeful prospect of suc- 
 which a Missionary might have among them. 
 ~ On the day following he set out on his journey for 
 ‘Kaunaumeek, and arrived at Mr. Sergeant’s house in 
 Stockbridge March 31. 
 
 %. 
 : 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 His labors for nearly a year among the Indians at Kaunaumeek 
 — temporal deprivations and sufferings—establishes a school— 
 confession offered to the facully of Yale College—days of fast- 
 tng—methods of instructing. the Indians—visit to New-Jer~ 
 sey and Connecticul—commencement of labor among the In- 
 dians at the Forks of the Delaware— Ordination. 
 
 ’ 
 
 April 1, 1743.—June 12, 1744. 
 
 | April 1, 1743. \ “I rode to Kaunaumeek, in the wil- 
 _ derness, near twenty miles from Stockbridge, and about 
 an equal distance from Albany, where the Indians live 
 with whom I am concerned ;and lodged with a poor 
 Scotchman, about a mile and a haif distant from them, 
 on a little heap of straw, in a log room without any 
 floor. I was greatly exercised with inward trials, and 
 _seemed to have no God to goto. O that God would 
 help me: 
 
 _ 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. 
 
 6 Brainerd. 
 
62 LIFE OF BRAINERD. roa v 
 My soul was weary of my life; I longed for death, be 
 yond measure. When I thought of any godly soul de 
 parted, my soul was ready to envy him his privilege 
 thinking, “O when will my turn come! must it be 
 years first!” But I know these ardent desires, at this 
 and other times, rose partly from the want of resigna: 
 tion to God under all miseries; and so were but impa 
 tience. Toward night I had the exercise of faith i 
 prayer, and some assistance in writing. O that Goc 
 would keep me near him! 
 
 Lord's day, April 10. “Rose early in the morning 
 and walked out and spent a considerable time in the 
 woods, in prayer and meditation. Preached to the In 
 dians, both forenoon and afternoon. They behaved 
 soberly in general: two or three in particular appeared 
 to be under some religious concern; with whom I dis- 
 coursed privately; and one told me, “that her hear 
 had cried ever since she first heard me preach.” 
 
 April 16.—“ In the afternoon preached to my people; 
 but was more discouraged with them than before; 
 feared that nothing would ever be done for them te 
 any happy effect. I retired and poured out my soul 
 to God for mercy; but without any sensible relief, 
 Soon after, two ungodly men came, 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. 0, I 
 longed that some dear Christian should know my dis- 
 tress. I got into a kind of hovel, and there groaned 
 out my complaint to God ; and withal felt more sensi- 
 ble gratitude and thankfulness to God, that he had 
 made me to differ from these men, as I knew, through 
 grace, he had. : 
 
 Lords day, April 17.—“ In the morning was again 
 distressed as soon as I awaked, hearing much talk 
 
i 
 
 | 1743. ] ' AT KAUNAUMEEK. 63 
 
 about the world, and the things of it. I perceived that 
 _the men were in some measure afraid of me; and I 
 _diseoursed about sanctifying the Sabbath, if possible 
 to solemnize their minds; but when they were ata 
 little distance, they again talked freely about secular 
 affairs. O I thought what a hell it would be to live with 
 such men to eternity! The Lord gave me some assist- 
 ‘ance in preaching, all day, and some resignation, and 
 a small degree of comfort in prayer, at night. 
 
 _ April 19.—“ In the morning I enjoyed some sweet 
 ‘repose and rest in God; felt some strength and confi- 
 dence in him ; and my soul was in some measure re- 
 freshed and comforted. Spent most of the day in 
 writing, and had some exercise of grace, sensible and 
 comfortable. My soul seemed lifted above the deep 
 |waters, wherein it has long been almost drowned ; felt 
 ‘some spiritual longings and breathings after God ; and 
 found myself engaged for the advancement of Christ’s 
 kingdom in my own soul. . 
 
 | April 20.—“ Set apart this day for fasting and 
 prayer, to bow my soul before God for the bestowment 
 of divine grace ; especially that all my spiritual afflic- 
 tions, and inward distresses, might be sanctified to my 
 ‘soul. And endeavored also to remember the goodness 
 of God to me the year past, this day being my birth 
 day. Having obtained help of God, I have hitherto 
 lived, and am now arrived at the age of twenty-five 
 years. My soul was pained to think of my barrenness 
 and deadness; that I have lived so little to the glory 
 of the eternal God. I spent the day in the woods 
 alone, and there poured out my complaint to God. O 
 that God would enable me to live to his glory for the 
 future! . 
 
 May 10.—“ Was in the same state as to my mind, 
 
 } 
 | 
 \ 
 i 
 lf 
 
* 
 64 LIFE OF _ BRAINERD. [Chap. v 
 
 that I have been in fut some time; extremely op 
 pressed with a sense of guilt, pollution, and blindness, 
 “The iniquity of my heels hath compassed me about: 
 the sins of my youth have been set itt 
 me; they have gone over my head, a: 
 den, too heavy for me to bear.” Almost 
 of my life past seem to be covered over with sin and 
 guilt ; and those of them that I performed i ins 
 conscientious manner, now fill me with 
 confusion, that I cannot hold up my face. O, t 
 selithngss, hypocrisy, ignorance, bitterness, _ party 
 zeal, and the want of. love, candor, meekness, and 
 gentleness, that have attended my attempts to bromote 
 the inferests of religion; and this, when I have reason 
 to hope I had real assistance from rs and some 
 sweet intercuurse with heaven! But alas, what cor- 
 rupt mixtures attended my best duti BL». 
 
 May 18.—“ My cireumstances 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. Eng- 
 lish.* Most-of the talk I hear, is either Highland 
 Scotch, or Indian. Thaye no fellow-ehristian to whom 
 I may unbosom myself, or lay open my spiritual sor- 
 rows; with whom I may take sweet counsel in con- 
 versation about heavenly things, and join in social 
 prayer. I live pogrly with regard to the comforts of 
 
 ‘ ah 
 
 * This person was BraiverRp’s interpreter, an ingenious 
 young Indian, belonging to Stockbridge, whose name was John 
 Wauwawmpequunnaunt. He had been instructed in the Chris- 
 tian religion by Mr. Sergeant ; had lived with the Rey. Mr. 
 Williams, of Tens-Meadow; : had been further instructed by. 
 him, at the charge of Mr. Hollis, of London; and understood 
 both English and Indian very well, and wrote a good hand. 
 
aa 
 43. ] ; AT KAUNAUMEEK. 65 
 
 life: mostof my diet consists of boiled corn, hasty- 
 
 | pudding, &¢. I lodge on a bundle of straw, my labor 
 is hard and extremely difficult, and I have little ap- 
 | pearance of ‘Success to Comiorig me.. The Indians have 
 live on but what the Dutch people lay claim 
 ase threaten to drive them off. They have 
 mre ‘to the souls of the poor Indians ; and by 
 
 at I can learn, they hate me because re come to 
 
 eat them. But that which makes all my diffi- 
 culti grievous to be boris is, that God hides his face 
 | from me 
 | May 20. —* Was much perplexed some part of the 
 | day; but toward night had some comfortable medi- 
 tations on Isa. 40: 1. “ Comfort ye, comfort ye my 
 | people, saith your God,” and enjoyed some sweetness 
 'in prayer. Afterward my soul rose so far above the 
 deep waters, that I dared to rejoice in God. I saw that 
 | there was suligies matter of consolation in the blessed 
 God.” 
 | On Monday, oe 30, he set out on a is o's to 
 New-Jersey to consult the commissioners, and obtain 
 orders from them to set up a school among the Indians 
 at Kaunaumeek, and that his interpreter might be 
 appointed the schoolmaster; which was_according- 
 ly done. He proceeded fiom New-Jersey to New- 
 ‘Haven, where he arrived on Monday, June 6; at- 
 tempted a reconciliation with the faculty of the col- 
 lege ; and spent this week in visiting his friends in 
 ‘those parts, and in his journey homeward, till Satur- 
 iday, in a pretty comfortable frame of mind, On Satur- 
 ‘day, 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 i in the morning, and came 
 to his Hones on Lord’s day, June 12, and had greater 
 
 6* 
 
 i 
 i 
 | 
 } 
 
> ' = 
 66 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. Vv 
 
 assistance in preaching among them than ever before, 
 since his first coming among them. 
 
 From this time forward he was the subject of various 
 frames and exercises of mind, in the general much 
 after the same manner as hitherto from om com- 
 ing to Kaunaumeek, till he got into his own house, (a 
 little hut, which he made chiefly with his own ‘Hands, 
 by long and hard labor.) He found that the distance 
 of the family with whom he at first lodged, debarred 
 him from many favorable opportunities of access to 
 the Indians, especially morning and evening; and after 
 about three months, removed and lived with the In- 
 dians in one of their wigwams. Here-he continued for 
 about one month, when he completed the small house 
 of which he now speaks. 
 
 Although he was much dejected during most of this 
 period, yet he had many intermissions of his melan- 
 choly, and some seasons of comfort, sweet tranquillity 
 and resignation of mind, and frequently special assist- 
 ance in ublic services, as appears in his diary. The 
 manner of his relief from his sorrow, once in particu- 
 lar, is worthy to be mentioned in his own words. 
 
 July 25.—“ Had little or no resolution for a life of 
 holiness; was ready almost to renounce my hope of 
 living to God. And O now dark it looked, to think of 
 being unholy for ever! This I could not endure. The 
 cry of my soul was, Psalm 65: 3. “Iniquities prevail 
 against me.” But I 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 amanner, that I stood 
 still, and praised the Lord for his own glories and per- 
 fections : though I was (and if I should for ever be} 
 an unholy creature, my soul was comforted to appre- 
 hend an eternal, infinite, powerful, holy God.” _— 
 
% 
 
 _ 1743.) AT KAUNAUMEEK. 67 
 
 ~ July 30.—*Just at night, moved into my own house, 
 
 ged there that night; found it much better 
 
 ~e the time alone than in the wigwam where I 
 
 was before. 
 
 day, July 31.—“ Felt more comfortably than 
 
 some days past. Blessed be’ the Lord, who has now 
 
 2iv eaplaceofretirement. O that I may find God 
 m it, and that he would dwell with me for ever! 
 
 Aug. 1.—*Was still busy in further labors on my 
 rouse. Felt a little sweetness of religion, and thought 
 hat it was worth while to follow after Ged through a 
 housand snares, deserts, and death itself. O that I 
 might always follow after holiness, that I may be fully 
 conformed to God! Had some degree of sweetness in 
 secret prayer, though I had much sorrow. 
 
 Aug. 3.—“ Spent most of the day in writing. » En- 
 joyed some sense of religion. Through divine good- 
 ness I am now urinterruptedly 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, humidity, and 
 meekness: O 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 
 somne apprehensions of divine things, Which afforded 
 
 me courage and resolution. It is good, I find, to per- 
 severe in attempls to pray, if I cannot pray with perse- 
 _ verance, i. e. continue long in my addresses to the 
 Divine Being. Ihave generally found that the more I 
 _ do in secret prayer, the more I have delighted todo, 
 
 : 
 
T 
 - - 
 
 68 LIFE OF BRAINERD. . [Chap v 
 
 and the more I have enjoyed a spirit of prayer; and 
 frequently I have found the contrary, when by jour- 
 neying or otherwise I have been much deprived of re- 
 
 _ tirement. A seasonable, steady performance of SECRET 
 DUTIES IN THEIR PROPER HOURS, and a CAREFUL IMPROVE- 
 MENT OF ALL TimB, fillirig up every hour with some 
 profitable labor, either of heart, head, or hands, are ex- 
 cellent means of spiritual peace and boldness before 
 God. Filling up our time with and Jor God, is the way 
 to rise up and lie down in peace, 
 
 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 kindly to: disappear, and I “ remembered no 
 more the sorrow, for joy.” O, 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 inveterate of 
 my enemies. I longed that they should share in the 
 same mercy; and loved that God should so do just as 
 he pleased with me and every thing else. I felt pecu- 
 
 _ larly serious, calm, and peaceful, and encouragement 
 _ to press after holiness as long as I live, whatever diffi- 
 culties and trials may be in my way. May the Lord 
 always help me so to do! Amen, and Amen, ; 
 
 Aug. 15.—“Spent most of the day in labor, to pro- 
 cur> something to keep my horse on in the winter. 
 Had not much spiritual enjoyment in the morning ; 
 
s (. 
 1743.) AT KAUNAUMEEK. 69 
 
 _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 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. Iam forced 
 _to go or send ten or fifteen miles for all the bread leat; 
 | and sometimes it is mouldy and sour before I eat it, if 
 I get any considerable quantity. And then again 1 
 have none for some days together, for want of an op- 
 _ portunity tosend for it, and cannot find my horse in the 
 | woods to go myself; aad this was my case now; but 
 | through divine goodness I had some Indian Whee, of 
 | which I made cakes, and fried them. Yet I felt con- 
 | tented with my circumstances, and sweetly resigned to 
 | God. In prayer I enjoyed great freedom ; and blessed 
 | God as much for my present circumstances as if I had 
 | been a king; and thought that I found a disposition to 
 | be contented in any circumstances. Blessed be God.” 
 In his diary for Saturday, he says he was somewhat 
 melancholy and sorrowful in mind; and adds, “TI 
 never feel comfortably, but when I find my soul going 
 forth after God. If Icannot be holy, I must necessa- 
 | rily be miserable for ever. 
 Lord's day, Aug. 21.—“Was much straitened in the 
 | forenoon exercise; my thoughts seemed to be all scat- 
 _ tered to the ends of the earth. At noon, I fell down be- 
 fore the Lord, groaned under my vileness, barrenness, 
 | and deadness ; and felt as if I was guilty of soul mur- 
 | der, 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 re- 
 | pentance. Afterward had some small degree of thank- 
 
 | 
 
 i 
 
eS 
 
 . a 
 70 LIFE OF BRAINERD. - LChap. ¥, 
 
 fulness. 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. 23.—“Studied in the forenoon, and enjoyed 
 some freedom. In the afternoon labored abroad: en- 
 deavored to pray, but found not much enjoyment or 
 intenseness of mind. Toward night was very weary, 
 and tired of this world of sorrow: the thoughts of 
 death and immortality appeared very desirable, and 
 even refreshed my soul. Those lines turned in my 
 mind with pleasure, 
 
 “ Come death, shake hands; Vil kiss: thy bands; 4 
 “?'Tis happiness for me to die.— 
 “ What !—dost thou think that I will shrink? 
 
 “Tl go to immortality.” 
 
 “Tn 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 pengaiae in my 
 requests for grace. I poured out my soul for all the 
 world, friends and enemies. My soul was concerned, 
 not so much for souls as such, but rather for Christ’s 
 kingdom, that it might appear in the world, that God 
 might be known to be God, in the whole earth. And 
 O my soul abhorred the very thought of a party in re: 
 ligicn! Let the truth of God appear, wherever it is; 
 and God have glory for ever. Amen. This was indeed 
 a comfortable season. I thought I had some foretasie 
 of the enjoyments and employments of the upper 
 world. O that my soul was more attempered to it! 
 Aug. 31.—[On a journey to New-York.] “Was in 
 a sweet, serious, and I hope, Christian frame. Eternal 
 things erigraised all my thoughts; and I longed to be 
 in the world of spirits. O how happy is it to have 
 
Sams R AT KAUNAUMEEK. 71 
 
 all thoughts swallowed up in that world: to feel 
 one’s self a stranger in this world, diligently seeking 
 a road through it, the best, the sure road to the hea- 
 venly Jerusalem !” 
 
 He went forward on his journey, and after tarrying 
 
 _ two or three days at New-Y ork, set out from that city 
 
 toward New-Haven, intending to be there at the com- 
 mencement. 
 
 Lord’s day, Sept. 11.—“ [At Horse-Neck.] In the 
 afternoon I preached from Titus,3:8. I think God 
 
 _ never helped me more in painting true religion, and 
 
 in detecting clearly, and tenderly discountenancing 
 
 false appearances of religion, wild fire, party zeal, spi- 
 ritual pride, &c.as well as a confident dogmatical spirit, 
 and its spring, viz. ignorance of the heart, In the even- 
 ing took much pains in private conversation to sup- 
 press some confusions which I perceived were among 
 that people. 
 
 Sept. 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 sole 
 tude gives them greater advantage to settle, and pene- 
 trate to the very inmost recesses of the soul; yet it is 
 better to be alone than incumbered with noise and tu- 
 
 mult. I find it very difficult maintaining any sense oi 
 
 divine things while removing from place to place. di- 
 
 _ verted with new objetts, and filled with care and busi- 
 
 ness. A settled steady business is best adapted to a life 
 
 | of strict religion. 
 
 Sept. 14.—“ This day I ought to have taken my ce- 
 
 _ gree ; but God sees fit to deny it me. And though I 
 
 was greatly afraid of being overwhelmed with per-’ 
 plexity and confusion, when I should: see my class- 
 
, 
 
 72 LIFE OF BRAINERD, “ Lh 
 
 mates take theirs; yet, at the Soy time, Go bled 
 me with calmness and resignation to sy, nl « 
 
 the Lord be done.” Indeed, through divine goodne 
 I have scarcely felt my mind so calm, sedate, and com- 
 fortable for some time. I have long far, this season, 
 ‘ahd expected my humility, meekness, patience and re- 
 signation would be much tried ; but found much mel 
 pleasure and divine comfort than I expected. Felt 
 - Spiritually serious, tender and affectionate in private 
 prayer with a dear Christian friend to-day. : 
 
 Sept. 15.—“ Had some satisfaction in hearing the 
 ministers discourse. It is always a comfort to me to 
 hear religious and Spiritual conversation. O that mi- 
 nisters and people were more spiritual and devoted te 
 God! Toward night, with the advice of Chris‘ian 
 friends, I offered the following reflections in writing, 
 to the rector and trustees of the college—which are for 
 substance the same that I had freely offered to the 
 rector before, and intreated him to accept—ihat if pos- 
 sible 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, concern- 
 ing 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 1 have sinned 
 _ against God, and acted contrary to the rules of his word, and 
 have injured Mr. Whittelsev. I had no right to. make thus 
 free with his character; and had no just reason to say as I did 
 concerning him. My fault herein was the more aggravated, 
 in that I sand this concerning one who was so much my supe- 
 rior, and one whom I was obliged to treat with special respect 
 aud honor, by reason of the relation I stood in to him in the 
 
 college. Such a manner of behavior I confess ay be- 
 
 come a Christian; it was taking too much upon i ,and did 5 
 not savor of that humble respect which I ought to have ex- 
 
1743.) “ AT NEW-HAVEN. | 73 
 
 } vince a te Mr. Whittelsey. I have long since been con- 
 vince ‘the falseness of those apprehensions, by which I 
 | ig ae ied 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. 
 'IThumbly ask the forgiveness of the governors of the college 
 and of the whole society ; but of Mr. Whittelsey in particular. 
 And whereas I have been accused by one person of saying 
 | concerning the reverend rector of Yale College, that I won- 
 | dered he did net expect ‘to drop down dead for fining the 
 scholars that followed Mr. Tennent to Milford; I seriously 
 profess that I do not remember my saying any thing to this 
 | purpose: but if I did, which I am not certain I did not, I 
 utterly condemn it, and detest ail such kind of behavior; and 
 especially in an under-graduate toward the rector. AndI 
 now appear to judge and condemn myself for going once to 
 the separate meeting m New-Haven, a little before I was ex- 
 | pelled, though the rector had refused to give me leave. For 
 this I humbly ask the rector’s forgiveness. And whether the 
 governors of thé ‘college shall ever see cause to remove the 
 _academical censure I lie under, or no, or to admit me to the 
 privileges { desire; yet I am willing to appear, if they think 
 fit, openly to own, and to humble myself for those things I 
 | have herein confessed.’ ” 
 | “God has made me willing to do any thing that I 
 /ean do consistently with truth, for the sake of peace, 
 | and that I might not be a stumbling: block to others. 
 | For this reason I can cheerfully forego ,and give up 
 , what I verily believe, after the most mature and im- 
 | partial search, is my right, in some instances. God 
 “has given me the disposition, that, if ‘a-man has done 
 me a hundred. injuries, and I (thongh 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 forgiveness of him; though at 
 
 | the same time he should justify himself in all the in- 
 | 7 Brainerd. 
 
 ———— 
 
74 "LIFE OF BRAINERD. { 
 
 juries he has done me, and should only make use 
 my humble confession to blacken my c ete 
 more, and represent me as the only person guilty ; 
 though he should as it were insult me, and say, “he 
 knew all this before, and that I was making work fe 
 repentance.” Though what I said concerning Mr. 
 Whittelsey was only spoken in private, to a friend or 
 two; and being partly overheard, was related to the 
 rector, and by.him extorted from my friends; yet, see-— 
 ing 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 showed 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 per-_ 
 sonal acquaintance with him.: There truly appeared © 
 in him a great degree of calmness and humility, with- 
 out 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, te whom he freely open- — 
 ed himself. Earnest application was made on his be- 
 half 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 society in Scotland ; he being sent from New- 
 Jersey to New-Haven, by the rest of the commissioners, - 
 for that end ; and many arguments were used, but with- 
 out success. Indeed, the governors of the college were _ 
 so far ‘Satisfied with the refiections which Brainerd 
 had’ V himself, that they appeared willing to 
 
? Ld 
 | 1743.) AT BETHLEHEM. 75 
 | 
 
 mit him again into college ; but not to give him his 
 degree, till he should have remained there at least 
 twelve months, which being contrary to what the cor- 
 respondents, to whom he was now engaged, had de- 
 }| clared to be their mind, he did not consent toit. He 
 desired his degree, as he thought it would tend to his 
 ‘being more extensively useful ; but still when he was 
 _ denied it, he manifested no disappointment or resent- 
 | ment. 
 ‘Sept. 20.—“ [At Bethlehem.] Had thoughts of go- 
 ing forward on my journey to my Indians; but toward 
 | night was taken with a hard pain in my teeth, and 
 shivermg cold; and could not possibly recover a com- 
 fortable degree of warmth the whole night following. 
 Tcontinued very full of pain all night; and in the morn- 
 ing had a very hard fever, and pains almost over my 
 whole body. I had a sense of the divine goodness in 
 | appointing this to be the place of my sickness, among 
 | my friends, who were very kind tome. I should proba- 
 | bly have perished if I had first got home to my own 
 . house in the wilderness, where I have none to converse 
 | with but the poor, rude, ignorant Indians. Here, I 
 saw, was mercy in the midst of affliction. I continued 
 thus. mostly confined to my bed, till Friday night; 
 very full of pain most of the time; but, through divine 
 goodness, not afraid of death. Then I saw the extreme 
 folly of those who put off their turning to God tilla 
 sick bed. Surely this is not a time proper to prepare 
 for eternity. On Friday evening my pains went off 
 somewhat suddeniy. I was exceedingly weak, and al- 
 most fainted; but was very comfortable the night fol- 
 | lowing. I thought we were to prize the continua- 
 tion of life, only on this account, that we may “show 
 forth God’s goodness and works of grace.> 
 
we =~ LIFE OF BRAINERD L 
 
 et 4. his day rode home to my ‘own house 
 € poor Indians appeared very glad of 
 
 return. Found my house and all things in safety: 
 presently fell on my knees, and blessed God for 
 safe return. I have taken many considerable j 
 since this time last year, and yet God has never 
 one of my bones to be broken, or any distressing 
 lamity to befal me, excepting the ill turn I had m 
 last jouvtey. I have been often exposed to cold 
 hanger in the wilderness, where the comforts of life 
 were not to be had; have frequently been lost in the 
 woods ; and sometimes obliged to Tide much ‘of thal 
 night ; ‘and once lay out in the woods all night; yet 
 blessed be God, he has preserved me! 
 
 Nor. 3.—“ Spent this day im secret fasting and 
 prayer, from morning till night. Early in the i 
 i had some small degree of assistance in prayer. Af 
 terward read the story of Elijah the prophet, 1 ‘ 
 17th, 18th, and 19th chapters; sad skee 2 ing, of 
 and 4th chapters. My soul was much moved, 
 img the faith, zeal, and power of that holy man 
 how he wrestled with God in prayer, &e. My x 
 then cried with Elisha, “Where is the Lord God 
 Elijah OI longed formore faith! My soul 
 after God, and pleaded with him, thata £ double por 
 tion of that spirit” which was given to Elijah, 
 “reston me.” And that which was divinely 
 
 is the same that he was in the days of Elijah. Wi 
 enabled 10 wresile with Ged by prayer, in a more 
 fettionate, fervent, humble, intense, and i 
 manner, than I have for many months past: Nothing 
 seemed too hard for God to perform; nothing toc 
 great forge to hope for from him. I had for many 
 
 i 
 
 . 
 . 
 
1743.) AT KAUNADY£EK. TI 
 
 i _ months entirely lost all hové of being made instru- 
 mental of doing any spet ‘ial 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. . Afterward 
 read from the 3d sapien of Exodus to the 20th, 
 and saw more of the glory and majesty of. God 
 discovered in those chapters than ever I had seen be- 
 fore; 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 
 3d, 4th, and part of the 14thand 15th chapters were un- 
 speakably sweet to my sou!: my soul blessed God that 
 he had_shown himself so gracious to his servants of 
 old.. The 15th chapter seemed to be the very language 
 which my soul uttered to God in the season of my first 
 . spiritual comfort, when I had just got through the Red 
 Sea, by a way that I had no expectation of. O how 
 my soul then rejoiced in God! And now those things 
 eame fresh and lively to my mind; now my ,soul 
 blessed God afresh that he had opened that unthought 
 of way to deliver me from the fear of the Egyp- 
 tians, when I almost despaired of life. Afterward 
 read the story of Abraham’s pilgrimage in the land of © 
 Canaan. My soul] was melted, in observing his faith, 
 how he leaned on God; how he communed with God; 
 and what a stranger he was here in the world. After 
 that, read the story of Joseph’s sufferings, and God’s 
 goodness to him: blessed God for these examples of 
 faith and patience. My soul was ardent in prayer, 
 was enabled to wrestle ardently for myself, for Chr's- 
 tian friends, and for the church of God; and felt move . 
 desire to see the power of God in the conversion 0, 
 souls, than I have done for along season. Blessedbe 
 a Lis 
 
| 
 * 
 PM. 
 
 73 s LIFE OF BRAINERD. é ie 
 
 God for this season of fusting and prayer !—May his” 
 goodness always abide with me, and draw my soul 
 to him! 
 
 Nov. 10.—“ Spent this day in fasting and prayer 
 alone. In the morning was very dull and lifel 
 melancholy and discouraged. But after some ti 
 while reading 2 Kings, 19, 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 ar- 
 dently for his power and grace to be exercised toward 
 me. Afterward, read the story of David’s triais, and 
 observed the course he took under them, how he.. 
 strengthened his hands in God; whereby my soul was 
 carried out after God, enabled to cry to him, and rely 
 upon him, and felt strongin the Lord. Was afterward 
 refreshed, observing the blessed temper that was 
 wrought in David by his trials: all bitterness, and de- 
 sire of revenge, seemed wholly taken away ; so that 
 he mourned for the death of his enemies. 2 Sam. 1: 
 17, and 4: 9-12. Was enabled to bless God that he 
 had given me something of this divine temper, that my 
 soul freely forgives, and heartily loves my enemies. 
 
 . 29.—“ Began to study the Indian tongue, with 
 Mr. Sergeant, at Stockbridge.* Was perplexed for want 
 
 ; 
 
 * *The commissioners who employed him, had directed him to 
 
 spend much time this winter With Mr. Sergeant, to learn the 
 
 language of the Indians; which necessitated him very often to . 
 
 ride backward and forward, twenty miles through the unin- 
 * : 
 
* 
 1744} AT KADNAUMEEE. 79 
 
 of more retirement. I love to live aione in my 
 | own little cottage, where I can spend much time 
 in prayer, &c. 
 . Dec. 22.—“ Spent this day alone in fasting and 
 : yer, and reading in God’s word the exercises and 
 jverances of his children. Had, I trust, some ex- 
 ercise of faith, and realizing apprehension of divine 
 power, grace, and holiness; and also of the unchange2- 
 bleness of God, that he is the same as when he deli- 
 vered his saints of old out of great tribulation. My 
 | soul was sundry times in prayer enlarged for God’s 
 clarch ard people. O that Zion might become the 
 *joy of the whole earth!” It is better to wait upon 
 God with patience, than to put confidence in any thing 
 in this lower world. “My soul, wait thou on the Lord ;” 
 for “from him comes thy salvation.” , 
 Lord's day, Jan. 1, 1744.—“ In the morning had 
 some small degree of assistance in prayer. Saw myself 
 =|, so vile and unworthy that I could not look my people 
 in the face when I came to preach. O my meanness, 
 folly, ignorance, and inward pollution !—in the evening 
 had a little assistance in prayer, so that the duty was 
 delightful, rather than burdensome. Reflected on the 
 goodness of God to me in the past year, &c. Ofa 
 | truth God has been kind and gracious to me, though 
 he has caused me to pass through many sorrows; he 
 has provided for me bountifully, so that I have been 
 enabled, in about fifteen months past, to bestow to 
 charitable uses about an hundred pounds New-England 
 money, that I can now remember. Blessed be the Lord 
 
 SS OO OU es 
 
 = 
 
 babited woods between Stockbridge and Kaunaumeek; which 
 many times exposed him to extreme hardship in the severe 
 seasons of the winter. . ie 
 
 2 
 
80 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. V. 
 
 that has so far used me as his steward, to distribute a 
 portion of his goods. May I always remember, that 
 all Ihave comes from God. Blessed be the Lord, that 
 has carried me through all the toils, fatigues and hard- 
 ships of the year past, as well as the spiritual sorrow 
 and conflicts that have attended it. O that I cou 
 begin this year with God, and spend the whole gf it to ] 
 his glory, either in life or death! | 
 
 Jan. 3.—“ Was employed much of the day in writ- 
 ing ; and spent some time in other necessary employ- 
 ment. But my time passes away so swiftly, that lam 
 astonished when I reflect on it, and see how little I do. 
 My state ef solitude does not make the hours hang 
 “heavy upon my hands. © what reason of thankful- 
 ness have I on account of this retirement! I find that 
 Ido 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 Iam obliged now to be | 
 from home, in order to learn 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 fre- 
 quent 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 ail thingsof the world. Thisevening my heart was 
 somewhat warm and fervent in prayer and meditation, 
 so that I was loth to indulge sleep. Consinnedain 
 those duties till about midnight. 
 _ Jan. 6.—“ Feeling my extreme weakness, and want of 
 grace, the pollution of my soul, and danger of tempta- | 
 tions on every side, I set apart ‘He day for fasting and 
 
 © 
 
 % 
 - 
 
1744.3 AT KAUNAUMEEK. 8i 
 
 . prayer, neither eating nor drinking from evening to 
 | evening, beseeching God to have mercy on me. My 
 _ soul intensely longed that the dreadful spots and stains 
 
 of sin might be washed away from it. Saw something 
 oe the power and all-sufficiency of God. My soul 
 
 _ seemed to rest on his power and grace; longed for re- 
 
 } signation to his will,and mortification to all things 
 here below. My mind was greatly fixed on divine 
 things: my resolutions for a life of mortification, con- 
 _ tinual watchfulness, self-denial, seriousness and devo- 
 | tlon, were strong apd fixed; my desires ardent and in- 
 _ tense; my conscience tender, and afraid of every ap- 
 | pearance of evil.. My soul grieved with reflection on 
 | past levity, and want of resolution for God. I solemn- 
 ly 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, 
 | adeluding dream. © “Sa : 
 Jan. 7. “Spent this day in seriousness, with stead- 
 fast resolutions for God, and a life of mortification. 
 Studied closely, till I felt my bodily strength fail. Felt 
 some degree of resignation to God, with an acquies- 
 cence 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 
 | instantin prayer forsometime. Spent the time in read- 
 _ ing, meditation, and prayer, till the evening was far 
 | spent: was grieved to think that I could not watch un- 
 _ to prayer the whole night. But blessed be God, hea- 
 ' yen is a place of continual and incessant devotion, 
 | though the earth is dull. at 
 Jan. 14. “This morning, enjoyed a most solemn 
 i 
 
82 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chapt ¥, 
 
 season in prayer: my’soul seemed enlarged and assist. 
 ed to pour out itself to God for grace, and for every 
 blessing I wanted for myself, for dear christian friends, 
 and for the church of God; and was so enabled’ 
 “see Him who is invisible,” that my soul rested u 
 him for the performance of every thing I asked agreea- 
 ble tohis 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 exceed- 
 ingly for an angelic holiness and purity, and to have 
 all my thoughts, at all times, employed in divine and 
 heavenly things. Felt the same divine assistance in 
 prayer sundry times in the day. My soul confided in 
 God for myself, and for his Zion: trusted in divine 
 power and grace, that he would do glorious things in 
 his church on earth, for his own glory. 
 
 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 dispen- 
 sations; and could not but write, as well as meditate, | 
 on so entertaining a subject. Ihope the Lord gave me } 
 some true sense of divine things this day ; but alas, _ 
 how great and pressing are the remains of indwelling - 
 corruption! I am now more sensible than eyer, that 
 God alone is “the author and finisher of our faith,” 7.¢e 
 that the whole and every part of sanctification, and 
 every good word, work, or thought, found in me, is the - 
 effect of his power and grace; that “without him I can | 
 do nothing,” in the strictest sense, and that, “‘he works 
 in us to will and to do of his own good pleasure,.” and 
 from no other motive. O how amazing it is that peo- | 
 ple can talk so much about men’s power and goodness; 
 
 . 
 
‘| a 
 | 1744.) AT KAUNAUMEEK. 83 
 
 _when if God did not hold us back every moment, we 
 - should be devils incarnate! This my bitter experience, 
 for several days last past, has abundantly taught me 
 *eoncerning myself. 
 
 ‘Feb.7., “My soul felt and tasted that the Lord is 
 ious, that he is the supreme good, the only soul- 
 ‘satisfying happiness; that he is a complete, sufficient, 
 ‘and almighty portion. The language of my heart was, 
 « Whom have Iin heaven but thee? and there is none 
 ‘upon earth that I desire beside thee.” O, I feel that 
 jit is heaven to please him, and to be just what he would 
 || have me to be! O that my soul were “holy, as he is 
 holy!” O that it were “ pure, even as Christ is pure ;” 
 ‘and ‘perfect, as my Father in heaven is perfect!” 
 1 These I feel are the sweetest commands in God’s book, 
 | comprising all others. And shall I break them! must 
 I break them! am I under the necessity of it as long 
 ; | as Ilive in the world! O my soul, wo, wo is me, that i 
 hee a sinner, who continually grieve and offend this 
 | | blessed God, infinite in goodness and grace! O methinks 
 ) | if he would Buriat me for my sins, it would not wound 
 ) |my heart so deep to offend him; but though I sin con- 
 | tinually, yet he continually repeats his kindness to me! 
 |O methinks I could bear any sufferings; but how can 
 | T bear to grieve and dishonor this blessed God! How 
 shall I yield ten thousand times more honor to him 2 
 , What shall I do to glorify and worship this best of be- 
 lings? 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 con- 
 |formed to him! But, alas! I find I cannot be thus en- 
 tirely devoted to God; I cannot live, and not sin. O 
 | ye angels, do ye glorify him meessantly ; and if possi- 
 ! 4 
 
 —_ a a 
 
 Ss = i = ee 
 
-» mankind. I longed that those who, I have reason to_ 
 
 84 LIFE OF BRAINERD. ~ (Chape¥ 
 
 ble, 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 the: homage which the a 
 rious God deserves! 
 
 March 3. “In the morning, spent (I ballene). 1 
 hour in prayer, with great intenseness and fee om, 
 and with the most soft and tender affection toward all 
 
 ~ think, owe me ill will, might be eternally happy. It 
 seemed refreshing to think of meeting them in heaven, 
 how much soever they had injured me on earth: had 
 no disposition to insist upon any confession {om them, 
 in order to reconciliation, and the exercise of love and 
 kindness to them. it is an emblem of heaven itself, 
 to love all the world with a love of kindness, forgive- 
 ness, and benevolence; to feel our souls sedate, mild, 
 ‘and meck; to be void of all evil surmisings and sus- 
 picions, and scarce able to think evil of any man upon 
 any occasion ; to find our hearts simple, open, and free, 
 10 those that look upon us with a different eye!— 
 Prayer was so sweet an exercise to me, that I hucall 
 not how to cease, lest I should lose the spirit of prayer. 
 Felt no disposition to eat or drink, for the sake of the 
 pleasure of it, but only to support my nature, and fit 
 me for divine service. Could not be content without 
 a very particular mention of a great number of dear 
 friends at the throne of grace; as also the particular 
 circumstances of many, as far as they were known. 
 March 10. “In the morning, felt exceeding dead to 
 the world, and all its enjoyments. I thought I was 
 ready and willing to give up life and all its comforts, , 
 as soon as called to it; and yet then had as much com- 
 
 wall 
 
1744. | | AT KAUNAUMEEK. 85 
 
 fort of life as*almost ever I had. I longed to be per- 
 ' petually 2nd entirely crucified to all things here below, 
 _ by the cross of Christ. My soul was sweetly resigned 
 ‘God’s disposal of me, in every regard; and I saw 
 at nothing had happened but what was best for me, 
 id nfided in God, that he would never leave me, 
 ie ough I should “walk through the valley of the sha- 
 _ dow of death.” It was then my meat and drink to be 
 holy, to live to the Lord, and die to the Lord. And I 
 thought that I then enjoyed such a heaven as far ex- 
 _ ceeded the most sublime conceptions of an unregene- 
 rate soul; and even unspeakably beyond what I my- 
 self could conceive of at another time. I did not won- 
 der 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 earnest- 
 ly for dear Christians, and for those I have reason to 
 fear are my enemies; and could not have spoken, a 
 word of bitterness, or entertained a bitter thought, 
 against the vilest man living. Hada sense of my own 
 | great unworthiness. My soul seemed to breathe forth 
 _ love and praise to God afresh, when I thought he would 
 ‘let his children love and receive me as one of their 
 _ brethren and fellow citizens. When I thought of their 
 treating me in that manner, I longed to lie at their feet; 
 and could think of no way to express the sincerity and 
 simplicity of my love and esteem of them, as being 
 ‘much better than myself. 
  Lord’s day, March 11. “My soul was in some mea- 
 sure strengthened in God, in morning devotion ; so that 
 | | was released from trembling fear and distress. Preach- 
 ed to my people from the parable of the sower,, Matt. 
 | Brainerd. 
 
oF 
 86 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. Vv. 
 
 18, and enjoyed some assistance both parts of the day; 
 had some freedom, affection, and fervency in address- 
 ing 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 t6 them, that I knew not, 
 how to leave off speaking.” A Sf 
 This was the last Sabbath in which hereyerper-_ 
 formed public service at Kaunaumeek, and these the 
 
 _ last sermons which he ever preached to the Indians” 
 
 there. ‘The methods he adopted for their salvation, he 
 
 thus describes in a letter to Rev. Mr. Pemberton of 
 
 New-York. 
 
 “In my labors with them, in order to “turn them 
 from darkness to light,” I studied what was most plain 
 and easy, and best suited to their capacities ; and en- 
 deavored to set before them from time to time, as they 
 were able to receive them, the most important and ne- 
 cessary truths of Christianity ; such as most imme- 
 diately concerned their speedy conversion to God, and 
 such as I judged had the greatest tendency, as means, 
 to effect that glorious change in them. But especially 
 I made it the scope and drift of all my labors, to lead 
 them into a thorough acquaintance with these two 
 things: (1.) The sinfulness and misery of the estate 
 they were naturally in; the evil of their hearts, the 
 pollution of their natures; the heavy guilt they were 
 under, and their exposedness to everlasting punish- . 
 ment ; 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 unwortki- 
 ness of any mercy at, the hand of God, on aceount of 
 any thing they themselves could do to procure his” 
 favor, and consequently their extreme need of Christ 
 to save them. And. (2.) I frequently endeavored to 
 
| ile 
 
 — 
 
 i744. ] AT KAUNAUMEEK: 87 
 
 open tothem the fullness, all-sufficiency, and freebies 
 of that redemption which the Son of God has wrought 
 out by his obedience and sufferings, for perishing sin- 
 ners: how this provision he had made was suited to 
 
 ; all their wants ; and how he called and invited them to 
 accept of everlasti ng life freely, notwithstanding all 
 
 | 
 | 
 | 
 
 their sinfulness. 
 
 “ 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. Talso translated 
 sundry psalms into their language, and soon after we 
 were adle to sing in the worship of God. 
 
 “When my people had gained some acquaintance 
 with many of the simplest truths of Christianity, so 
 that they were capable of receiving and understanding 
 others, I gave them an historical account of God’s 
 
 | _ dealings with his ancient professing people, the Jews; 
 
 some of the rites and ceremonies they were obliged to 
 observe, as their sacrifices, &c.; and what these were 
 designed to represent to them; as also some of the sur- 
 prising miracles God wrought for their salvation, while 
 they trusied in him; and sore punishments he some- 
 times brought upon them, when they forsook and sin- 
 ned against him. Afterward I proceeded to give them 
 arelation of the birth, life, miracles, sufferings, death, 
 and resurrection of Christ; as well as his ascension, 
 and the wonderful effusion of the Holy Spirit conse- 
 quent thereupon. °\ 
 
 “ And having thus endeavored*to prepare the way 
 by such a general account of things, I next proceeded 
 to read and expound tothem the Gospel of St. Matthew 
 
. 
 
 : er 
 88 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. ¥ 
 (at least the substance of it) in course, wherein they 
 had a more distinct and particular view of what they 
 
 had had before some general notion. ‘These exposi- 
 tions I attended almost every evening, when there was 
 
 ‘any considerable number of them at home ; except 
 
 when I was obliged to be absent myself, in) order to 
 learn the Indian language with the Rev. Mr. Sargeant. 
 Besides these means of instruction, there was likewise 
 an English school constantly kept by my interpreter 
 among the Indians; which I used frequeptly 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 Chris- 
 tianity 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 under- 
 standings. 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 cifficul- 
 ties and disconsolate hours, was, that the truths of 
 God’s word seemed, at times, to be attended with some 
 power upon the hearts and consciences of the Indians. 
 And especially this appeared evident in a few indivi- 
 duals, who were awakened to some sensé of their mi- 
 serable estate by nature, and appeared solicifops for 
 deliverance from it. Several of them came, of their 
 own accord to discourse with me about their soul’s 
 
 ‘. : 
 
1744. | AT KAUNAUMEEK. 89 
 
 concerns; and some, with tears, inquired what they 
 should do to be saved ?” 
 
 The Indians at Kaunaumeek being but few in num- 
 ber. and Brainerd having been laboring among them 
 about a year, and having prevailed upon them to be 
 ‘willing)to. leave Kaunaumeek, and remove to Stock- 
 | bridge, to live constantly under Mr. Sergeant’s minis- 
 try; he thought he might now do more service for 
 Christ among the Indians elsewhere: and therefore 
 went to New-Jersey, and laid the matter before the 
 Commissioners ; who met at Elizabeth-Town, on the 
 occasion, and determined that he should forthwith 
 leave Kaunaumeek, and go to the Delaware Indians. 
 
 By the invitations which Brainerd had lately re- 
 ceived, it appears, that it was not from necessity, or 
 for want of opportunities to settle in the ministry, that 
 he determined to forsake all the outward comforts, 
 he might thus have enjoyed, to spend his life among 
 savages, and endure the difficulties and self-denials of 
 an Indian mission. He had, just as he was leaving 
 Kaunaumeek, had an earnest invitation toa settlement 
 at East-Hampton, one of the pleasantest towns on 
 Long-Island. The people there were unanimous in 
 ‘their desires to have him for their pastor, and fora 
 Jong time continued in earnest pursuit of him, and 
 were hardly brought to relinquish their endeavors, and 
 give up their hopes of obtaining him. Besides this, he 
 had an invitation to preach with reference to a seftle- 
 “ment in Millington, near his native town, and in the 
 “midst of his friends. Nor did Brainerd choose the bu- 
 /siness of a missionary to the Indians, rather than ac- 
 cept of those invitations, because he was unacquainted 
 | with the difficulties and sufferings which attended such 
 a service; for he had had experience of these difficul- _ 
 
 B rw. Be 
 
- 
 } 
 
 90 LIFE OF BRAINERD. Chap. V. 
 
 ties in summer and winter ; having spent about a year 
 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. “' ' 
 
 After this he continued two or three days in New- 
 Jersey, very ill ; and then returned to New-York; and 
 
 from thence into New-England ; and went to his native 
 
 town of Haddam, where he arrived on Saturday, April 
 14. And he continues still his bitter complaints of want 
 of retirement. While he was in New-York, he says 
 thus, “ 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 re- 
 tirement where God is, is better than the whole world.” 
 
 April 17.—“Tn the evening, at my brother’s, singing 
 hymns with friends, my soul seemed to melt; and in 
 prayer afterward, enjoyed the exercise of faith, and 
 was enabled to be fervent in spirit: found more of 
 God’s presence than I have done any time in my late 
 wearisome journey. Eternity appeared very near; 
 my nature was very weak, and seemed ready to bedis- 
 solved; the sun declining, and the shadows of the 
 evening drawing on apace. OI longed to fill up the 
 remaining moments all for God! Though my body 
 was so feeble, and wearied with preaching and much 
 private conversation, yet I wanted to sit up all night to 
 do something for God. To God, the giver of these 
 refreshments, be glory for ever andever. Amen. 
 
 April 18.—“ Was very weak, and enjoyed but little 
 spiritual comfort. Was exercised with one who ca- 
 villed against original sin. May the Lord open his 
 eyes to see the fountain of sin in himself !” 
 
 After this he visited several ministers in Connecti- 
 
| 1744.) AT KAUNAUMEEK. 31 
 
 eut; and then travelled towards Kaunaumeek, and 
 _eame to Mr. Sergeant’s, at Stockbridge, Thursday, 
 | April 26, having performed the journey in a very weak 
 state of body. 
 
 | 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. Ser- 
 geant’s) and found them very glad to see me returned. 
 Was exercised in my mind with a sense of my own 
 _ Unworthiness. 
 
 fords day, April 29—“ Preached for Mr. Ser- 
 geant both parts of the day, from Rev. 14: 4. Enjoyed 
 ‘some freedom in preaching, though not much spiri- 
 tuality. In the evening, my heart was in some mea- 
 sure lifted up in thankfulness to God for any assist- 
 ance. 
 
 April 30.—* Rode to acim but -was ex- 
 | tremely ill; did not enjoy the comfort I hoped for in 
 my own house. 
 
 May 1.—* Having received new orders to go toa 
 number of Indians on Delaware river, in Pennsylva- 
 Ria, and my people here being mostly removed:to Mr. 
 Sergeant’s, I this day took all my clothes, books, &e. 
 and disposed of them, and set out fer Delaware river ; 
 but made it my way to return to Mr. Sergeant’s, which 
 ‘I did this day, just at night. Rode several hours in 
 ) the rain th seugh the howling wilderness, although I 
 Was so disordered in body, that little or nothing but 
 biood came from me. 
 
 May 8.—* Travelled about forty-five miles to a place 
 ealied Fishkill ; and lodged there. Spent muchof my 
 | time, while riding, in prayer that God would go with 
 me to the Delaware. My heart sometimes was ready 
 to sink with the thoughts of my work, end going alone 
 
| 
 92 LIFE OF BRAINERD. | Chap. V. | 
 
 in the wilderness, I knew not where ; but still it was. 
 comfortable to think that others of God’s children had 
 ‘ wandered about in dens and caves of the earth 7 and 
 Abraham, when he was called to go forth, ‘went out 
 not knowing whither he went.’ O that I might follow, 
 after God !” Mikes | 
 The next day he went forward on his journey ; 
 crossed the Hudson, and went to Goshen in the High- 
 lands; and so traveled 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 whick 
 journey he suffered much fatigue and hardship. He 
 visited some Indians in the way, at a place called Miu- 
 nissinks, and discoursed with them concerning Chris- 
 tianity. Was considerably melancholy and disconso- 
 late, being alone in a strange wilderness. On Satur- 
 day, May 12, he came to a settlement of Ifish and_ 
 Dutch people, and proceeding about twelve miles fur- | 
 ther arrived at Sakkawwotung, an Indian settlement, 
 within the Forksof the Delaware. / 
 Lord's day, May 13.—“ Rose early ; felt very poorly 
 after my long journey, and after being wet and fa- 
 tigued. Was very melancholy; have scarcely ever 
 seen such a gloomy morning in my life; there ap- 
 peared to be no Sabbath ; tne children were all at play; 
 I, a stranger in the wilderness, and knew not where to 
 go; and all circumstances seemed to conspire to ren- 
 der my affairs dark and discouraging. Was disap- 
 pointed 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 sink- | 
 ig soul amidst all my sorrows; so that I never enter- 
 
1744.) AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 93 
 
 tained 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 con- 
 cerned about religion. My heart then began to be a 
 little encouraged : went and preached first to the Irish 
 and then to the Indians; and in the evening was a 
 little comforted ; my soul ‘seemed to rest on God, and 
 take courage. 
 
 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 Chris- 
 itianity. My soul longed continually for assistance 
 from above ; for I saw I had no strength sufficient for 
 that work. Afterward preached to the Irish people ; 
 was much assisted in the first prayer, and somewhat 
 in the sermon. Several persons seemed much con- 
 cerned for their souls, with whom I discoursed after- 
 ed with much freedom and some power. Blessed 
 be God for any assistance afforded to an unworthy 
 worm. O that I could live to him! 
 
 Lord’s day, May 27.—“ Visited my Indians in the 
 morning, and attended upon a funeral among them; 
 was affected to see their heathenish practices. O that 
 they might be ‘ turned from darkness to light ? After- 
 ward got a considerable number of them together, and 
 reached to them; and observed them very attentive. 
 After this preached to the white pecple from Heb. 
 2:3. ‘ How shall we escape if we neglect so great 
 alyation ?’ Was enabled to speak with some freedom 
 and power: several people seemed much concerned 
 ‘or their souls ; especially one who had been educated 
 a Roman Catholic. Blessed be the Lord for any help. 
 
94 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. ¥ 
 
 May 28.—“Set out from the Indians above theF ork! 
 of the Delaware, on a journey toward Newark, it 
 New-Jersey, according to my orders. Rode throug} 
 the wilderness; was much fatigued with the heat 
 lodged at a place called River; was excagy 
 mgly tired and worn out. ra 
 
 Lord’s day, June 10.—“ [at ‘Newark. | In the morn 
 ing was much concerned how I should perform the 
 work of the day: and trembled at the thoughts of be. 
 ing left to myself. Enjoyed very considerable assist: 
 ance in all parts of the public service. Had an oppor. 
 tunity again to attend on the ordinance of the Lord’ 
 Supper, and through divine goodness was refreshed in 
 it: my soul was full of love and geal toward the 
 children of God, and toward all men.’ At night J 
 enjoyed more spirituality and sweet desire of holiness, 
 than I have felt for some time: was afraid of every 
 thought and every motion, lest thereby my heart 
 should be drawn away from God. O that I might 
 never leave the blessed God! ‘ Lord, in thy presence 
 is fulness of joy.’ O the blessedness of living to God! 
 
 June 11.—“ This day the Presbytery met at New- 
 ark, in order to my ordination. Was very weak and 
 disordered in body ; yet efdeavored to repose my con- 
 fidence in God. Spent most of the day alone; espe- 
 cially the forenoon. At three in the afternoon preached 
 my probation sermon from Acts, 26:17, 18, being a 
 text given me for that purpose. Felt not well either 
 in body or mind: however, God carried through 
 comfortably. Afterward passed an aon before 
 the Presbytery. Was much tired, and my mind bur 
 dened with the greatness of that charge I was in the 
 most solemn manner about to take upon me: my mind, 
 was so pressed with the weight of the work incum- 
 
1744.) AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 95 
 
 pent upon me, that I could not sleep this night, though 
 very weary and in great need of rest. 
 
 | June 12.—“ Was this morning further examined 
 ‘respecting my experimental acquaintance with Chris- 
 fianity.. At 10 o’clock my ordination was attended ; 
 the sermon preached | y the Rev. Mr. Pemberton. At 
 this time I was affected with a sense of the important 
 irust committed to me; yet was composed and solemn 
 ithout distraction ; and I hope that then, as many 
 imes before, I gave myself up to God, to be for him, 
 d not for another. O that I might always be en- 
 ed in the service of God, and duly remember the 
 solemn charge I have received in the presence of God, 
 angels,and men. Amen.” 
 
 CEAPTER Vi. 
 
 abors for the Indians at and near the Forks of Delaware—idola- 
 trous feast and dance—journey through the wilderness to Ope- 
 | holhaupung or the Susquehanna—erects a cotlage at Forks of the 
 Delaware—some evidences of a work of ihe Spirit among the 
 Indians—journey.to New-England to obtain money to support 
 2 colleague—visit to the Indians on the Susquehanna—journey 
 to Crossweeksung in New-Jerseu. id 
 
 June 13, 1744 —June 18, 1745. 
 
 June 13, 1744. [At Elizabeth Town.]—“ ‘Spent con- 
 iderable time in writing an account of the Indian af- 
 airs, to be sent to Scotland ; some, in conversation with 
 riends; but had not much spiritual enjoyment.” 
 
 On Tuesday, June 19, he set out on his journey, 
 nd in three days reached his residence near the Forks 
 f Delaware. Performed the journey under much 
 
, 7 
 
 96 - LIFE OF BRAINERD. - [ Chap. VI 
 
 \ 
 weakness of body, but had comfort in his soul, from 
 day to day. 
 
 Lord’s day, June 24.—“ Extremely feeble ; scarcely 
 able to walk: however visited my Indians, and took 
 much pains to instruct them; labored with some that 
 weremuch disaffected toward Christianity. My mind 
 
 " was much burdened with the weight and difficulty of 
 
 my work. My whole dependence and hope of sue- 
 cess 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 re- 
 quests to God, even while I was speaking to them. 0 
 that I could always go in the strength of the Lord! 
 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 in prayer than usual of late ; especially 
 longed for the presence of God in my work, and that 
 the poor Heathen might be converted. And in evening 
 prayer my faith and hope in God were much raised, 
 To an eye of reason every thing that respects the con- 
 version of the Heathen is as dark as midnight ; and yet 
 I cannot but hope in God for the accomplishment of 
 something glorious among them. My soul longed 
 much for the advancement of the Redeemer’s kingdom 
 onearth. Was very fearful lest I should admit some 
 vain thought, and so lose the sense I then had of divine 
 things. O for an abiding heavenly temper! 
 June 26.—“ In the morning, my desires seemed t 
 rise, and “ascend up freely to God. Was busy most 
 the day in translating prayers into the language of th 
 Delaware Indians; met with great difficulty, because 
 my interpreter was altogether unacquainted with the 
 business. But though I was much discouraged with 
 
~ 
 
 | 1744.| AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 97 
 
 the extreme difficulty of that work, yet God supported 
 ' me; and especially in the evening, gave me sweet re- 
 freshment.* In prayer my soul was enlarged, and my 
 _ faith drawn into sensible exercise; was enabled to cry 
 | to God for my poor, indians ; and ‘though the work of 
 their conversion appeared impossible with man, yet with 
 God 1 saw allthings were possible. My faith was much 
 strengthened, by observing the wonderful assistance 
 | God afforded his servants Nehemiah and Ezra, in re- 
 ' forming 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 Christless; but was more especially concerned 
 for the poor heathen, and those of my own charge; 
 was enabled to be instant in prayer for them; and 
 hoped that God would bow the heavens and come down 
 for their salvation. It seemed to me 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 ina solemn frame, lifting 
 ' up my heart to God for assistance and grace, that I 
 | might be more mortified to this present world, that my 
 _ whole soul might be taken up continually in concern 
 for the advancement of Christ’s kingdom. Earnestly 
 desired that God would purge me more, that I might 
 be as a chosen vessel to bear his name among the 
 Heathen. 
 
 June 23.—“Spent the morning in reading several 
 parts of the holy scripture, and in fervent prayer for 
 my Indians, that God would set up his kingdom among 
 them, and bring them into his church. About nine I 
 withdrew to my usual place of retirement in the woods, 
 | and there again enjoyed some assistance in prayer. 
 
 | My great concern was for the conversion of the hea- 
 9 Brainerd. 
 
" 
 
 98 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. VI. 
 
 ,, then to God ; and the Lord helped me to plead with 
 _ him for it. Toward noon rode up to the Indians in 
 ma 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 in 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 In- 
 
 dians: and blessed be God I felt no desire of their | 
 conversion that 1 might receive honor from the world 
 
 as being the instrument of it. Had some freedom in | 
 
 speaking to the Indians. * 
 
 June 30.—“ My soul wes very solemn in Treading 
 God’s word, especially the ninth chapter of Daniel. [ 
 saw how God had called out his servants to prayer, 
 and made them wrestle with him, wlien he designed 
 to bestow any great mercy on his church. And, alas! 
 I was ashamed of myself to think of my duilness and 
 inactivity when there seemed to be so much to do.for 
 the upbuilding of Zion. O how does Zion lie waste! 
 F longed that the church of God might be enlarged ; 
 was enabled to pray, I think, in faith; my soul seemed 
 sensibly to confide in God, and was enabled to wrestle 
 with him. Afterward walked abroad to a place of 
 sweet retirement; enjoyed some assistance in prayer, 
 had a sense of my great need of divine help, and felt 
 my soul sensibly depend on Ged. Blessed be God, 
 this has been a comfortable week to me. 
 
 Lords day, July 1.—“ After I came to them my 
 mind was confused, and I felt nothing sensibly of that 
 sweet reliance 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 without 
 any heart. In the afternoon I felt still barren when I 
 began to preach, and for about half an hour: I seemed 
 
1744.] AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. $9 
 
 to myself to know nothing, and to have nothing to. 
 
 say to the Indians; but soon after I-found in myself a h 
 
 spirit of love, and ee) 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; Iam persuaded that the Lord touched 
 their consciences; for I never saw such attention | 
 raised in them. When I came away from them, I 
 spent the whole time I was riding to my lodgings, 
 three miles distant, in prayer and praise to God. After 
 [ 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 ; espe- 
 cially 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 myself. My 
 whole soul cried, ‘ Lord, to thee I dedicate myself! O 
 accept of me, and let me be thine for ever. Lord, I 
 desire nothing else; I desire nothing more. O come, 
 coine, Lord, accept a-poor worm. My heart rejoiced 
 in my particular work as a missionary ; rejoiced in my 
 necessity of self-denial in many respects, and J still 
 continued to give up myself to God, and to 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 searcely stretch fem 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 
 
 » 
 
| 
 
 100 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. VI 
 
 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. 
 
 July 3.—* Was still very weak. This morning was” 
 enabled to pray under a feeling sense of my need of 
 help from God, and I trust had some faith in exercise; 
 and, blessed be God, was enabled to plead with him a_ 
 considerable time. Truly God is good to me. But 
 my soul mourned, and was grieved at my sinfulness” 
 and barrenness, and longed to be more engaged for 
 God. Near nine, withdrew again for prayer, and 
 ‘through divine goodness had the blessed spirit of 
 prayer ; my soul loved the duty, and longed for God 
 in it. O it is sweet to be dhe Lord’s, to be sensibly de- 
 voted 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, and was jealous, and 
 afraid lest I should admit carelessness and self-con- 
 fidence. 
 
 July 6—* Awoke this morning in the fear of God, 
 and spent my first waking minutes in prayer for sanc- 
 tification, that my soul may be washed from its ex- 
 ceeding pollution and defilement. After I arose I spent 
 some time in reading God’s word, and in prayer. I 
 cried to God under a sense of my great indigence. I 
 am of late most of all concerned for ministerial quali- 
 fications, and the conversion of the heathen. Last 
 year I longed to be prepared for a world of glory, and 
 speedily to depart out of this world ; but of late all my 
 concern almost is for the conversion of the heathen, — 
 
1744. | AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 101 
 
 and for that end I long to live. But blessed be God I 
 have less desire to live for any of the pleasures of the 
 world than I ever had. I long and love to be a pil- 
 grim, and want grace to imitate the life, labors and 
 sufferings of St. Paul among the heathen. And when 
 i long for holiness now, it is not so much for myself 
 as formerly, but rather thereby I may become an ‘able 
 minister of the New Testament,’ especially to the 
 heathen. 
 
 July 7.—“ Was very much disordered this morning, 
 and my vigor all spent and exhausted; but was affect- 
 ed 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. After- 
 ward was refreshed and invigorated while reading 
 Aueine’s first Case of Conscience, &c.—was enabled 
 then to pray with some ardor of soul—was afraid of 
 carelessness and self-confidence, and longed for ho- 
 liness. ‘ 
 
 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 afterward was enabled 
 to preach to the white people with some power, espe- 
 cially in the close of my discourse, from Jer. 3: 23. 
 “Truly in vain is salvation hoped for from the hills,’ 
 &e. The Lord also assisted me in some measure in 
 the first prayer; blessed be his name. Near night, 
 though very weary, was enabled to read God’s word 
 with some sweet relish of it, and to pray with affec- 
 tion, fervency, and I trust with faith; my soul was 
 more sensibly dependant on God than usual. Was 
 watchful, tender, and jealous of my own heart, lest I 
 should admit carelessness and vain thoughts, and 
 
 Q* 
 
 ” 
 
102 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. VI 
 
 grieve the blessed Spirit, so that he should withdraw 
 his sweet, kind, and tender influences. Longed to 
 ‘depart, and be with Christ, more than at any time — 
 of late. My soul was exceedingly united to the saints” 
 of ancient times, as well as those now living; espe- 
 cially my soul melted for the society of Elijah and 
 Elisha. Was enabled to cry to God with a child-like © 
 spirit, and to continve instant in prayer for sometime. © 
 Was much enlarged in the sweet duty of interces- 
 sion; was enabled to remember great numbers of dear 
 friends, and precious souls, as well as Christ’s minis- _ 
 ters. Continued in this frame, afraid of every idle | 
 thought, till I dropped asleep. ; 
 
 July 21.—* This morning I was greatly es 
 with guilt and shame from a sense of inward vileness — 
 and pollution. About nine withdrew to the woods for — 
 prayer, but had not much comfort; I appeared to” 
 myself the vilest, meanest creature upon earth, and — 
 could scarcely live with myself; so mean and vile I~ 
 appeared, that I thought I should never be able to hold — 
 up my face in heaven, if God, of his infinite grace, 
 should bring me thither. Toward night my burden ~ 
 respecting my work among the Indians began to in- 
 crease much, and was aggravated by hearing sundry 
 things which looked very discouraging, in particular 
 that they intended to meet together the next day for 
 an idolatrous feast and dance. Then I began to be in 
 anguish ; I thought that I must in conscience go and 
 endeavor 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 I was ex: 
 ceedingly 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 such earnest- 
 
 Fh 
 24 
 
1744.1 AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 103 
 
 _ ness and importunity, that when [rose from my knees 
 _ I felt extremely weak and overcome ; I could scarcely 
 
 , 
 
 if 
 
 | walk straight; my joints were loosed ; the sweat ran 
 | down my face and body, and nature seemed as if it 
 
 would dissolve. So far as I could judge, I was wholly 
 free from selfish ends in my fervent supplications for 
 the poor Indians. I knew that they were met together 
 to worship devils, and not God; and this made me 
 ery 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, praying 
 
 _ incessantly for divine assistance, and that I might not 
 
 be self-dependent, but still have my whole dependance 
 upon God. What I passed through was remarkable, 
 
 _ and indeed inexpressible. All things here below van- 
 _ ished, and there appeared to be nothing of any con- 
 
 siderable 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. 
 
 T 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,} had no notion of joy 
 from this world ; I cared not where or how I lived, or 
 what hardships I went through, so that I could but 
 
 -gain souls to Christ. I continued in this frame all the 
 
 ' evening and night. While I was asleep I dreamed of 
 
 these things; and when I waked, (asI frequently did, 
 the first thing I thought of was this sreat work of 
 pleading for God against Satan. 
 
 Ma. 
 1 
 
104 LIFE OF BRAINERD. __[Chap. vi 
 
 Lord’s day. July 22.—* When I waked my soul w 
 burdened with what seemed to be before me. I eri 
 to God, before I could get out of my bed; and as soon 
 as I tas dressed I withdrew into the w oods, to pour 
 out my burdened soul to God, especially for assistance 
 in my great work ; for I could scarcely think of any 
 thing else. I enjoyed the same freedom and fervency 
 as the last evening ; and did with unspeakable freedom 
 give up myself afresh to God, for life or death, for all 
 hardships to which he should call me, 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 as- 
 sistance ; 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, 1 
 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 con- 
 vert 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 tempt- 
 ed me to the contrary. 
 
1744.) - AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 105 
 
 July 24.—* Rode about seventeen miles westward, 
 >ver a hideous mountain, to a numberof Indians. Got 
 Jogether near thirty of them: preached to them in the 
 evening, and lodged among them. Was weak, and 
 Jelt in some degree disconsolate ; yet could nae no 
 freedom in the thought of any other circumstances or 
 business in life. All my desire was the conversion of 
 ihe heathen; and all my hope was in God. God does 
 jot suffer me to please or comfort myself with hopes 
 of seeing friends, returning to my dear acquaintance, 
 ind enjoying worldly comforts. 
 
 Lord’s day, August 5.—“ Though very weak, I vi- 
 sited and preached to the poor Indians twice, oe was 
 strengthened vastly beyond my expectations. Indeed 
 he Lord gave me some freedom and fervency in ad- 
 iressing them ; though I had not strength enough to 
 stand, but was obliged to sit down the whole time. 
 ‘oward night was extremely weak, faint, sick, and full 
 of pain. Iseem to myself like a man that has all his 
 State embarked in one small boat, unhappily going 
 idrift down a swift torrent. The poor owner stands 
 m the shore, and looks, and laments his loss. But, 
 as ! though my al! seems to be adrift, and I stand and 
 fee it, I dare not lament; for this sities my spirits 
 ore, and aggravates my bodily disorders! I am 
 forced, therefore, to divert myself with trifies; al- 
 Push at the same time I am afraid, and often feel as 
 fl was guilty of the misimprovement of time. And 
 rftentimes my conscience is so exercised with this mi- 
 serable way of spending time, that I have no peace; 
 hough I have no strength of mind or body to improve 
 t to better purpose. O that God would pity ny dis- 
 lressed state!” 
 
 The next three weeks his illness was less severe } 
 
“Py | 
 
 106 LIFE OF BRAINERD. © [ Chap. ¥I 
 
 and he was in some degree capable of business, be 
 public and private, though he had some turns wherei) 
 his indisposition prevailed to a great degree. He hai 
 generally also much more inward assistance 
 strength of mind. He often expresses great longing: 
 for the enlargement of Christ’s kingdom, especially} 
 by the conversion of the heathen to God ; and speak 
 of this hope as all his delight and joy. He contint 
 still to express his usual desires after holiness, livi 
 to God, and asense of his own unworthiness. I 
 several times speaks of his appearing to himself he 
 vilest creature on earth ; and once says, that he veril 
 thought there were none of God’s children who fe] 
 so far short of that holiness, and perfection in thei 
 obedience, which God requires, as he. He speaks 0 
 his feeling more dead than ever to the enjoyments 6 
 the world. He sometimes mentions the special assist 
 ance which he had at this time, in preaching to tht 
 Indians, and the appearances of religious concet 
 among them. He speaks also of assistance in prayei 
 for absent friends, and especially ministers and can. 
 didates for the ministry ; and of much comfort whieh 
 he enjoyed in the company of some ministers’ wi 
 came to visit him. 
 ~ Sept. 1.—“ Was so fai thened, after a seas 
 of great weakness, that I was able to spend two 
 three hours in writing on a divine subject. Enjoy 
 some comfort and sweetness in things divine and 8% 
 cred; and as my bodily strength was in some meastl 
 restored, so my soul seemed to be somewhat vigorou 
 and engaged in the things of God. é 
 Lord’s day, Sept. 2.—‘* Was enabled to speak to my 
 poor Indians with much concern and fervency ; and 
 am persuaded that God enabled me to exercise faith im 
 
ies, AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 107 
 
 m, while I was speaking to them. JI perceived that 
 mme of them were afraid io hearken to and embrace 
 hristianity, lest they should be enchanted and poi- 
 ned by some of the powaws: but I was enabled to 
 ad with them not to fear these; and, confiding in 
 od for safety and deliverance, { bid a challenge to ali 
 ese powers of darkness, tr. do their worst on me first. 
 
 old my people that % was a Christian, and asked 
 em why thé powaws did not bewitch and poison me. 
 
 carcely ever felt more sensible of my own unwor- 
 iness, than in this action. I saw that the honor of 
 d was concerned ; and desired to be preserved—not 
 om selfish views—but for a testimony of the divine 
 jwer and goodness, and of the truth of Christianity, 
 id that God might be glorified. Afterward, I found 
 y soul rejoice in God for his assisting grace.” 
 
 ‘After this, he went a journey into New-England, and 
 is absent from the place of his abode, at the Forks 
 : Delaware, about three weeks. He was ima feeble 
 ite the greater part of the time. But in the latter 
 the journey he found that he gained much in health 
 1d strength. 
 
 : Sepi. 26.—“ Rode home to the Forks of Delaware. 
 
 hat reason have I to bless God, who has preserved 
 
 : in riding more than four hundred and twenty. 
 es, and has ‘ kept all my bones, that not one of 
 m has been broken!’ My health likewise is great- 
 recovered. O that I could dedicate my all to God! 
 
 is is all the return I can make to him.” 
 
 When he began to preach here, he had not more 
 
 m'from twenty to twenty-five hearers; their num- 
 
 s at length increased to forty, or more; and often 
 
 st belonging to those parts came together to hear 
 
 in preacn. Ina letter to Rev. Mr. Pemberton, he says 
 
 i 
 
ws 
 
 ‘detest their old idolatrcus notions, but strive also 
 
 judices against Christianity, on account of the vicio 
 
 sé » 
 
 t - | 
 108 LIFE OF BRAINERD,” © “" [Chaps ¥] 
 — (se . | 
 “The effects which the truths of Ge word have 
 , upon some of ‘the Indians in this place, are somevy 
 
 encouraging. A number of them are bi ought tC 
 nounce idolatry, and to decline partaking of th 
 feasts which they used to offer in sacrifice to cer 
 supposed unknown powers. “And some few am 
 them have, for a considerable time, manifested a 
 rious concern for their soul’s: eternal welfare, and 
 continue to ‘inquire the way to Zion, with such ¢ 
 gence, affection, and becoming solicitude, as gives 
 reason to hope that ‘ God who, I trust, has begun 
 work in them,’ will carry it on, until it shall issue 
 their saving conversion to himself. These not o 
 
 bring their friends off from them. And as they a 
 seeking salvation for their own souls, so they seem ¢ 
 sirous, and some of them take pains, that others migh 
 be excited to do the same. 
 
 “There are also many difficulties, that attend 
 christianizing of these poor pagans. 
 
 “ Tn the first place, their minds are filled with 
 
 lives and unchristian behavior of some that are Call 
 Christians. These not only set before them the wa 
 examples, but some of them take pains, expressly 
 words, to dissuade them from becoming Christiat 
 foreseeing that if these should be converted to G 
 ‘the hope of their unlawful gain’ would thereby be Io: 
 “ Again: these poor heathens are extremely attach 
 to the cusloms, traditions, and fabulous notions of the 
 fathers. And this one seems to be the foundation 
 all their other notions, viz. that ‘it was not the same 
 God made them, who made the white people? 
 anvther, who commanded them to live by hunting 
 
| £ 
 
 744.) + AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 109 
 a oy ee 
 
 to conform tothe customs of the white 
 | Jence, when they are desired to become 
 Yhristians, they frequently reply, that ‘ they will live 
 s their fathers lived, and go to their fathers when 
 hey die” And if the miracles of Christ and his apos- 
 les be mentioned to prove the truth of Christianity, 
 hey also mention sundry miracles which their fathers 
 jave told them were anciently wrought among the 
 ndians, and which satan makes them believe were 
 o. They are much attached to idolatry, frequently 
 gaking feasts, which they eat in honor to some un- 
 pen beings, who, they suppose, speak to them in 
 Jreams ; promising them success in hunting, and other 
 fairs, in case they will sacrifice to them. They often- 
 ‘mes also offer their sacrifices to the spirits of the 
 lead, who, they suppose, stand in need of favors from 
 he living, and yet are in such a state as that they can 
 vell reward all the offices of kindness that are shown 
 hem. And they impute all their calamities to, the 
 ieglect of these sacrifices. ' 
 “ Furthermore, they are much awed by those among 
 hemselves whe are called powaws, who are supposed 
 have a power of enchanting, or poisoning them to 
 e: or at least in a very distressing manner. And 
 ey apprehended_it would be their sad fate to be thus 
 nchanted in case they should become Christians. 
 | “The manner of their living is likewise a great dis- 
 ppaitage to the design of their being christianized. 
 They are almost continually roving from place to 
 lace, and it is but rare that an opportunity can be 
 
 rad with some of them for their instruction.” 
 4 
 
 | 
 | Oct. 1.—“ Was engaged in making preparations for 
 
 ay intended journey to the Susquehanna. Withdrew 
 10 Breiuerd. 
 
=" ll 
 
 & | 
 
 ", ue» LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. ¥ 
 
 several times to the woods for secret duties, and en 
 dezvored to plead for the’divine presence to go 
 me to the poor Pagans, to whom I was going to ie 
 the Gospel.. Toward night rode about four miles, am 
 me: brother Byram, who was come at my desire to b 
 my companion in travel to the Indians. I rejoice 
 see him, and I trust God made his conversation pr 
 able tome. Isaw him, asI thought, more dead to 
 world, its anxious cares and alluring objects, th 
 wat; and this made me look within myself, and | 
 mé a greater sense of my guilt, ingratitude, and misery 
 Oct. 2.—“* Set out on my journey in company witl 
 dezr brother Byram and my interpreter, and two i 
 
 Incians from the Forks of Delaware. Traveled abo 
 twenty-five miles, and lodged in one of the last ho 
 
 on our road; after which there was nothing but ¢ 
 hideous and howling wilderness. 
 
 Oct. 3.— We went on our way into the wilderness 
 ane found the most difficult and dangerous traveling 
 by far, that ever any of us had seen. We had scaree 
 any thing else but lofty mountains, deep valleys, and 
 - hideous rocks, to make our way through. However 
 I had some ‘spiritual enjoyment part of the day, an 
 my mind intensely engaged in meditation on a divin 
 subject. Near night my horse hung one of her legs 
 in the rocks and fell down under me, but through 
 div.ne goodness I was not hurt.. However, she broke 
 her leg ; and being in such a hideous place, and near 
 thirty miles from any house, I saw nothing that could 
 be done to preserve her life, and so was obliged to ki 
 her, and to prosecute my journey on foot. This acéi- 
 dext made me admire the divine goodness to me that 
 my bones were not broken, and the multitude of them 
 filled with strong pain. - Just at dark we kindled a fire, 
 
1744.) JOURNEY TO SUSQUEHANNA. i, 
 
 tut up a few bushes, and made a shelter over our heads 
 o save us from the frost, which was very hard that 
 aight, and committing ourselves to God by prayer, 
 ve lay down on the ground and slept quietly.” 
 
 The next day they went forward on their journey. 
 ind at night took up their lodgings in the woods in 
 ike manner. 
 | Oct. 5.—“ We reached the Susquehanna river at a 
 place called Opeholhaupung, and found there twelve 
 ‘ndian houses. After I had saluted the king in a 
 ‘riendly manner I told him my business, and that my 
 Jesire was to teach ‘them Christianity. After some 
 vonsultation the Indians gathered, and I preached to 
 ‘hem. And when I had done I asked if they would 
 hear me again. They replied that they would consider 
 fit, and soon after sent me word that they would im- 
 nediately attend if I would preach, which I did with 
 reedom, both times. When I asked them again, 
 whether they would hear me further, they replied, they 
 vould the next day. I was exceeding sensible of the 
 mpossibility of doing any thing for the poor Heathen 
 vithout special assistance from above ; and my soul 
 ‘eemed to rest on God, and leave it to him to do as he 
 leased in that which I saw was his own cause. In- 
 ‘eed, through divine goodness, I had felt somewhat 
 f this frame most of the time while I was traveling 
 habe and in some measure before I set out. 
 
 ) Oct. 6.—“ Rose early and besought the Lord for 
 elp in my great work. Near noon, preached again 
 9 the Indians; and in the afternoon visited them f:om 
 louse to house, and invited them to come and hear me 
 gain the next day, and put off their hunting design. 
 yhich they were just entering upon, till Monday 
 fei night’ I trust, ‘the Lord stood by me,’ to en- 
 \ 
 
 | 
 
Pn ae a 
 
 ‘TT 
 
 P 
 2 LIFE OP BRAINERD, Chap. Vi. 
 
 courage and strengthen my soul: I spent more -tha 
 an hour in secret retirement ; was enabled to ‘ pour out 
 my heart before God,’ for the: increase of grace in my 
 soul, for ininisterial endowinente; for success among 
 the poor Indians, for God’s ministers and people, for 
 distant dear friends, &c. Blessed be God! ‘ 
 Oct. 8.—“ Visited the Indians with a design to take 
 my leave of them, supposing they would this morni 
 go out to hunting early; but beyond my expectation 
 and hope, they desired to hear me preach again. I 
 gladly complied with their request, and afterward en- 
 deavored to answer their objections against Christianity, 
 Oct. 9.—“ We rose about. four in the morning, and 
 commending ourselves to God by prayer, and aski 
 his special protection, set out on our journey hom 
 ward about five, and traveled with great steadiness till 
 past six at night and then made us a fire and a shelter 
 of bark, and so rested: Thad some clear and comfor- 
 table thodatits on a divine subject, by the way, toward 
 night. In the night, the wolves howled around 
 but God preserved us.” | 
 The next day they rose early, and at night came te 
 an Irish settlement, with which Brainerd was 
 quainted, and lodged there. On the following day 
 both he and Mr. Byram preached to the people. | — 
 Oct. 12.—“ Rode home to my lodgings; where I 
 poured out my soul to God in seeret prayer, and 
 deavored 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 
 tigues of the way, and traveling on foot. Blessed 
 the Lord, who continually preserves me. 
 Lord’s day, Oct. 14.—“I went to the place of publie 
 
1744.) AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 13 
 
 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 in- 
 varnation and sufferings of Christ, for this very end, 
 hat’ men might be made holy. Adverts I was mueh 
 lelsted in preaching. I know not that ever God 
 aelped me to preach in a. more close and distinguishing 
 nanner for the trial of men’s state. Through the nfi- 
 hite goodness of God, I felt what I spoke ; and he ena- 
 
 dled me to treat on divine truth with uncommon 
 
 Hearness. 
 | Oct, 24—“Near noon, rode to: my seep spent 
 ‘ome time, and prayed with. them ; felt the frame of a 
 bilgi zm on earth; longed much to leave this gloomy 
 nansion; but yet found the exercise of patience and 
 
 esignation. And as I returned home from the In- 
 
 od. n*the evening,enjoyed lessed season alone 
 a prayer ; was enabled to cry ae with a child-like 
 pirit, for the space of near an hour; enjoyed a sweet 
 beedom i in supplicating for myself, for dear friends, 
 
 inisters, and some who are preparing for that work, 
 us for the church of God; and longed to be as lively 
 ayself in God’s service as the angels. 
 
 _ Oct. 26.—“In the morning my soul was melted 
 
 bith asense of divine goodness and mercy to sucha | 
 
 ile unworthy worm. I delighted to lean upon God, 
 nd place my whole trust in him. My soul was ex- 
 eedingly grieved for sin, and prized and longed after 
 oliness ; it wounded my heart deeply, yet sweetly, to 
 aink how I had abused a kind God. I longed to be 
 erfectly holy that I might not grieve a gracious God; 
 rho will continue to love + ia ariatin his love is~ 
 ye 10* 
 
 lians, ee the whole time in lifting up my heart to - 
 
od 
 
 114 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. VI 
 
 abused! I longed for holiness more for this end than 
 Ic¢:d for my own happiness’ sake ; and yet this a 
 my greatest happiness, never more to dichonem but 
 always to glorify the blessed God. ce 
 
 Oct. 31.—‘‘ Was sensible of my barrenness and de- 
 cays in the things of God: my soul failed when J 
 remembered the fervency which*I had enjoyed at the 
 throne of grace. , I thought, if I could but be on 
 tual, warm, heavenly minded, and affectionately breath- 
 ing after Gud, this would be better than life to nel 
 My soul longed exceedingly for death, to be loosed 
 from this dullness and barrenness, and made for ever 
 active in the service of God. I seemed to live for no- 
 thing, and-to do no good: and O the burden of such 
 a life! O death, death, my kind friend, hasten and 
 deliver me from dull mortality: and make me spiritual 
 and vigorous to eternity !” # 
 
 Nov. 5.—He set out on a journey to New-York, and 
 was from home more than a fortnight. H& =i 
 
 posed to cold and ms, became. greatly fati 
 and when he returned from New-York to New-Jersey 
 was taken ill, and detained some time. ‘al 
 Nov. 21. _K 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 
 and especially the ministers of Jesus Christ who 
 the same trials that I do. | 
 _ Nov. 22.—“ 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 
 my way. in the wilderness, and wandered over 
 
 and mountains, down hideous steeps, through oa 
 n 
 
 and most dreadful and dangerous places; and the ni 
 
\744.j AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 115 
 
 veing dark, so that few stars could be seen, I was 
 zreatly exposed. I was much pinched with cold, and 
 distressed with pain.in my head, attended with Biche 
 ess at my stomach ; so that every step I took was dis- 
 wressing tome. I jib little hope, for several hours 
 ogether, but that I must lie out in the woods all night 
 ‘n this distressed case. But about nine o’clock I found 
 ’ house, through the abundant goodness of God, and 
 was kindly entertained. ‘Thus I have frequently been 
 exposed, and sometimes lain out the whole night: but 
 God has hitherto preserved me; and blessed be his 
 name. Such fatigues and iracticiags as these serve to 
 wean me from the earth ; and 1 trust will make heaven 
 the sweeter. Formerly, when I was thus exposed to 
 cold, rain, &c. I was ready to please inyself with the 
 
 thoughts of enjoying a comfortable house, a warm 
 fire, and other outward comforts ; but now these have 
 
 less place in my heart, (through the grace of God,) 
 ‘and my eye is more to God for comfort. In this world 
 I expect tribulation ; and it does not now, as formerly, 
 ‘appear strange to me. Ido 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 other's of God’s children have en- 
 \dured; and how much greater are yet perhaps re- 
 beerved for me. Blessed be God, that he makes the 
 thoughts of my journey’s end,and of my dissolution 
 ‘a great comfort to me under my sharpest trials; and 
 iscarce ever lets these thoughts be attended with terror 
 ‘or melanclf6ly ; but they are attended frequently with 
 igreat joy. 
 
 | Nov. 23.—“ Visited a sick man; discoursed and 
 |prayed with him. Then visited another house, where 
 howe one dead and laid out; looked on the corpse, and 
 
a 
 
 116 LIFE OF BRAINERD. . [Chap. VE 
 
 longed that my time might come to depart and be 
 Christ. Then went home to my lodgings about one 
 o'clock. Felt poorly ; but was able to read most 0| 
 the afternoon.” 
 Within the space of the next twelve days he spent 
 much time in hard labor, with others, to make for 
 himself a little cottage or hut, to live in by himself 
 through the winter. Yet he frequently preached to 
 the Indians, and speaks of special assistance which he 
 had from time to time, in addressing himself to the 
 and of his sometimes having considerable cence 
 ment from the attention which they gave. But on 
 Tuesday, December 4, he was sunk into great dis- 
 couragement, to see most.of them going in company 
 to an idolatrous feast and dance, after he had taken 
 abundant pains to dissuade them from these things. | 
 Dec. 6.—“ Having now a happy opportunity of be- 
 ing 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 bédily 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 
 my poor Indians are now. worshipping devils, notwith- 
 standing all the pains I have taken with them, which 
 almost overwhelms my spirit ; moreover, considering 
 my extreme barrenness, spiritual deadness and dejec- 
 . tion, of late; as also the power of some particular cor- 
 ruptions ; I set apart this day for secret ®rayer and. 
 fasting, to implore the blessing of God on myself, on 
 my poor people, on my friends, and onthe church of 
 God. At first I felt a great backwardness to the duti 
 of the day on account of the seeming impossibility of 
 
1744.) AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 117 ~ 
 
 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 sinful- 
 ness, and a discovery of the plague of my own heart, 
 more affecting than what I have of late had. And es- 
 pecially Tsaw my sinfulness in this, that when God 
 /had withdrawn himself, then, instead of living and dy- 
 ing in pursuit of him, I have been disposed to one of 
 ‘these two things: either to yield an unbecoming re- 
 ‘spect to some earthly objects, as if happiness were to 
 be derived from them; or to be secretly froward and 
 impatient, and unsuitably desirous of death, so that I 
 have sometimes thought I could not bear to think that 
 imy life must be lengthened out. That which often 
 drove me to this impatient desire of death, was a de- 
 spair of doing any good in life: and I chose death 
 rather than a life spent for nothing. But now God 
 made me sensible of my sin in these things, and en- 
 abled me to cry to him for forgiveness. Yet this was 
 not all I wanted, for my soul appeared exceedingly 
 polluted, my heart seemed like a nest of vipers, or a 
 tage of unclean and hateful birds; and therefore I 
 wanted to be purified ‘by the bloed of sprinkling, that 
 sleanseth from all sin.’ This, I hope, I was enabled to 
 oray for in faith. J enjoyed much more intenseness, 
 ervercy, and spirituality, than I expected; God was 
 vetter to me than my fears. Toward night, I felt my 
 soul rejoice, that God is unchangeably happy and glo- 
 vious ; and that ke will be glorified, whatever becomes 
 of his creatures. I was enabled to persevere in prayer 
 ‘until sometime in the evening; at which time I saw so 
 much need of divine help, in every respect, that I knew 
 hot how to leave off, and had forgot that I needed food. 
 Blessed be the Lord for any help in the past day. - ~ 
 i 
 | 
 | 
 
La 
 >| 
 
 118 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. VE 
 
 Dec. 7, “Spent some time in prayer, in the m 
 ing; enjoyed some freedom and affection in the d 
 and had longing desires of being made ‘ faithful to 
 death.’ Spent a little time in writing on a divine sub- 
 ject ; then visited the Indians, and preached to them 
 but I had no heart to speak to them, and could not do 
 it, but as I forced myself: I knew they must hate to 
 hear me, as having but just got home from their idola- 
 trous feast and devil-worship. In the evening, had 
 some freedom in prayer and meditation. $ 
 Dec. 12.—“ Was very weak ; but somewhat assisted 
 in secret prayer, and enabled with pleasure and sweet- 
 ness to cry, ‘Cottle, 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 
 cessary food! I had at this time no disposition to oa 
 (though late in the morning;) for earthly food 
 peared wholly tasteless. O how much ‘better is 
 love than wine,’ than the sweetest wine !—I visited 
 and preached to the Indians in the afternoon ; but wu 
 der much dejection. Found my Interpreter un 
 some concern for his soul; which was some comfor 
 to me; and yet filled me with new. care. I longed 
 apeatly for his conversion; lifted up my heart to 
 for it, while I was talking to him; came home, and 
 poured out my soul to God for him; enjoyed som 
 freedom in prayer, and was enabled, I think, to leave 
 all with God. 
 Dec. 18.—‘ Went to the Indians, and disewirsail to 
 them near an hour, without any power to come clo se 
 to their hearts. But at last I felt some fervency, and 
 God helped me to speak with warmth. My Interpr 
 ter also was amazingly assisted; and presently mo 
 
| 
 1744.) = «aT: FORKS OF DELAWARE. 119 
 
 of the grown persons were much affected, and the tears 
 ran down their cheeks. One old man, 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 encou- 
 raged and exhorted my Interpreter to ‘strive to enter 
 im at the strait gate. » Came home, and spent most of 
 she evening in prayer and thanksgiving; and found 
 myself much enlarged and quickened. Was greatly 
 concerned that the Lord’s work, which seemed to be 
 begun, might be carried on with power, to the conver- 
 sion of poor souls, and the glory of divine grace. 
 
 : Dec. 19.—“Spent a great part of the day in prayer 
 to God for the outpouring of his Spirit on my poor 
 beople; as also to bless his name for awakening my 
 Interpreter and some others, and giving us some tokens 
 of his presence yesterday. And blessed be God, I had 
 ‘nuch freedom, five or six times in the day, in prayer 
 and praise, and felt a weighty Concern upon my spirit 
 for the salvation of those precious souls, and the en- 
 largement of the Redeemer’s kingdom among them. 
 My soul hoped in God for some success in my minis- 
 iry: blessed be his name for so much hope. 
 
 | Dec. 21.—“ Was enabled again to pray with freedom, 
 bheerfulness, and hope. God was pleased to make the 
 luty comfortable and pleasant to me; so that I delight- 
 ed to persevere, and repeatedly to engage init. To- 
 ward noon visited my people, and spent the whole 
 jime in the way to them in prayer, longing to see the 
 oower of God among them, as there appeared some- 
 thing of it the last Tuesday; and I found it sweet to 
 rest and hope in God. Preached to them twice, an* 
 
120 LIFE OF BRAINERD. _ + [Chap. vi 
 
 at two distinct places: had considerable freedom 
 time, and so had my Interpreter. Several of them 
 lowed me from one place to the other; and I tho 
 there was some divine influence discernible among 
 them. In the evening was assisted in prayer — 
 Blessed be the Lord. ‘i 
 
 Dec. 25.—“ Enjoyed very little quiet sleep last nig 
 by reason of bodily weakness, and the closeness of 1 
 studies yesterday ; yet my heart was somewhat lively 
 in prayer and praise. I was delighted with the divi 
 glory and happiness, and rejoiced that God was on 
 and that he was unchangeably possessed of glory 
 blessedness. Though God held my eyes ad 
 he helped me to improve my time profitably amidst mj 
 pains and weakness, in continued meditations on Luke 
 13:7. ‘Behold, these three years I come seeking frui 
 &c. My meditations were sweet; and I wanted to 
 before sinners their sin and dagen if 
 
 He continued in a very. low state, as to his bod 
 health, for some days, which seems to have been 
 great hindrance to him in his religious exercises 
 pursuits. But yet he expresses some degree of divi ine 
 assistance, from day to day, through the remainder 
 this week. He preached several times this week to 
 Indians; and there appeared still some concern am 
 them for their souls. 
 
 Jan. 9, 1745.—“ In the morning God was pleased to 
 remove that gloom which has of late oppressed my 
 mind, and gave me freedom and sweetness in prayer 
 I was encouraged, strengthened, and enabled to pleat 
 for grace myself, and mercy for my poor Indians,; ai 
 was sweetly assisted in my intercessions with God f 
 others. Blessed be his holy name for ever and ever 
 
 Amen, and Amen. Those,things that of late have ap 
 / 
 
1745.) 2 *-s AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 121 
 
 peared most difficult and almost impossible, now ap- 
 peared not only possible, but easy. My soul so much 
 delighted to continue instant in prayer, at this blessed — 
 season, that I had no desire for my necessary food: I 
 leven dreaded leaving off praying at all, lest I should 
 lose this spirituality, and this blessed thankfulness to 
 God which I then felt. I felt now quite willing to live, 
 and undergo all trials that might remain for me ina 
 world of sorrow; but still longed for heaven, that I 
 night glorify God ina perfect manner. ‘O come, Lord 
 Jesus, come quickly.’ : 
 
 | Lord's day y, Feb. 3.—“ In the morning I was some- 
 what relieved of that gloom and confusion with which 
 my mind has of late been greatly exercised ; and was 
 bnabled to pray with some composure oat comfort. 
 Still I went to my Indians trembling; but God was 
 sleased to hear my cries, and to afford me great assis- 
 lance; so that I felt peace in my own soul; and was 
 jatisfied, that if not one of the Indians should be pro- 
 ited by my preaching, but they should all be damned, 
 yet I should be accepted and rewarded as faithful ; in 
 | am persuaded, God enabled me to be so. Had some 
 rood degree of help afterward at another place; and 
 inuch longed for the conversion of the poor Indians.” 
 ' On the next Sabbath he preached at Greenwich, in 
 New-Jersey. In the evening he rode eight miles to 
 tisit a sick man at the point of death. and found him 
 peechless and senseless. 
 
 | Feb. 11.—“ About the break of day the sick man 
 lied. I was affected at the sight; spent the morning 
 vith the mourners; and after prayer and some dis- ~ 
 /ourse with them, returned to Greenwich, and preached 
 gain from Baalin 89:15. The Lord gave me some 
 ssistance I felt a sweet love to souls. and, to the. 
 
 | 11 Brainerd. 
 | 
 
122 LIFE OF BRAINERD. 
 
 kingdom of Christ ; and longed that poor sinners 
 ‘know the joyful sound,’ Several persons were m 
 affected. After meeting, I was enabled to discou 
 with freedom and concern, to some persons who @ 
 plied to me under spiritual trouble. Left the 
 sweetly composed, and rode home to my house a 
 eight miles distant. Discoursed to friends, and iuet 
 cated divine truths upon some. In the evening wa 
 the most solemn frame which I almost ever remem 
 to have experienced. I know not that ever death aj 
 peared more real to me, or that ever I saw myself it 
 the condition of a dead corpse, laid out, and dressed fo 
 a lodging in the silent grave, so evidently as at thi 
 time. And yet I felt exceedingly tranquil ; my min 
 was composed and calm, and death appeared withou 
 a sling. I think I never felt such an universa 
 mortification to all created objects as now. O, hoy 
 great and solemn a thing it appeared to die! O, hay 
 it lays the greatest honor in the dust! And O, he 
 vain and trifling did the riches, honors, and pleasure 
 ‘ of the world appear! I could not, I dare not so muél 
 as think of any of them; for death, death appeared a 
 | thedoor. O,I could see myself dead, and laid on 
 and inclosed in my coffin, and put down into the col 
 grave, with the greatest solemnity, but without terror 
 I spent most of the evening in conversing with ad 
 Christian friend. Blessed be God forthe comforts 0 
 the past day. ; 
 Feb. 15.—“ Was engaged in writing almost th 
 whole day. In the evening was much assisted 
 meditating on that precious text, John, 7:37. ‘ Jesu 
 stood and cried,’ &c. I had then a sweet sense of # 
 free grace of the gospel ; my soul was encouraged. 
 warmed, and quickened. My desires were drawn ¢ 
 
ID, 
 ‘ « 
 
 ek ' 
 sy # 
 
 | r — "ti 
 145.) AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 123 
 
 after God in prayer; and my soul was watchful, afraid 
 of losing such a guest as I then entertained. I con- 
 tinued long in prayer and meditation, intermixing one 
 with the other; and was unwilling to be diverted by 
 any thing at all from so sweet an exercise. I longed 
 to proclaim the grace I then meditated upon, to the 
 world of sinners. O how quick and power rful is the 
 word of the blessed God. 
 
 | Lord’s day y, Feb. 17.—“ Preached to the while people 
 (my interpreter being absent, ] in the wilderness, upon 
 the sunny side of 4 hill; had a considerable assembly, 
 consisting of people who lived, at least many of them, 
 
 not less than thirty miles deities some of them came 
 neat twenty miles. I discoursed ts them all day, from 
 John, 7:37. ‘Jesus stood and cried, saying, that ifany 
 man thirst,’ &c. In-the afternoon, it pleased God to 
 zrant me great freedom and ferveney inmy discourse; 
 ind I was enabled to imitate the example of Christ in 
 the text, who stood and cried. I think I was scarce 
 aver enabled to exhibit the free grace of God to perish- 
 ng sinners with more freedom and plainness in my 
 iife. Afterward, I was enabled earnestly to invite the 
 *hildren of Goa to come renewedly, and drink of this 
 fountain of the water of life, from whence they have 
 heretofore derived unspeakable satisfaction. It wasa 
 tery comfortable time tome. There were many tears 
 n the assembly ; and I doubt not but that the Spirit of 
 xod was there, convincing poor sinners of their need 
 if Christ. In the evening I felt composed and com- 
 ortable, though much tired. I had some sweet sense 
 \f the excellency and glory of God; my soul rejoiced 
 
 hat he was ‘God over all, blessed ‘0 ever ;’ but was 
 
 00 much crowded with company and conversation, 
 
 ‘nd longed to be more alone with God. - O that I could 
 
 ky 
 
 | ; 
 
at 
 
 Ws 7 | 
 
 a | 
 124 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. Vi 
 
 for ever bless God for the mercy of this day, wh« 
 ‘answered me in the joy of my heart.’ * 
 Lord’s day, Feb. 24.—* In the morning was muel 
 perplexed. My iterpreter being absent, I knew no 
 how to perform my work among the Indians. How 
 ever, I rode to them, got a Dutchman to interpret fo 
 me, though he was but poorly qualified for the business 
 Afterward I came and preached to a few white peo 
 from John, 6 : 67. Here the Lord seemed to unburder 
 me in some measure, especially toward the close of my 
 discourse: I felt freedom to open the love of Christ t 
 his own dear disciples. When the rest of the work 
 forsake him, and are forsaken by him, he then turns t 
 his own, and says, Will ye also go away? I had + 
 sense of the free grace of Christ 1o his own people, ir 
 such seasons of general apostacy, and when they them 
 selves in some measure backslide with the world. @ 
 the free grace of Christ, that he seasonably remind: 
 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 be welcome 
 to him immediately ; without any thing 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 a 
 apprehension of divine grace; and have often been 
 greatly distressed in my own soul, because I did 
 suitably apprehend this fountain opened to purge a 
 sin; and have been too much laboring for inl 
 ‘ife, peace of conscience, and progressive holiness, in 
 my own strength. Now God showed me, in some 
 measure, the arm of all strength, and the fountain 
 all grace. In the evening, I felt solemn, resting on 
 
1745.] AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 125 
 
 free grace for assistance, acceptance, and peace of 
 conscience. : 
 
 March 6.—“ Spent most of the day in preparing for 
 ja journey to New-England; and sometime in prayer 
 ‘with a special reference to it. Was afraid I should 
 fareake the Fountain of living waters, and attempt to 
 derive satisfaction from broken cisterns, my dear 
 friends and acquaintance, whom I might meet in my 
 journey. I looked to God to keep me from this vanity 
 as well as others. Toward 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 peemed grieved that I was about to leave 
 them; especially as I did not expect to make any con- 
 Biderable stay among them, if I should live to return.* 
 ‘0 how kind has God been to me! how he has raised 
 ‘up friends in every place where his providence has 
 palled me! Friends are a great comfort; and it is 
 God who gives them; itis He who makes them friendly 
 ‘0 me. ‘Bless the Ban my soul, and forget not all 
 jis benefits.’ ” ' 
 | The next day he set out on his journey; and it was 
 about five weeks before he-returned. The special de- 
 sign of this journey, he himself declares afterward, 
 )mhis diary for March 21, where, speaking of his con- 
 versing with a certain minister in New-England, he 
 iays, “Contrived with him how to raise some money 
 umong Christian friends, in order tosupport a colleague 
 vith me in the wilderness, (I having now spent two 
 years in a very solitary manner, ) that we might be to- 
 meee as Christ sent out his disciples two and two- 
 
 | | *It seems by what atteraanl appears, that he had a design 
 bo remove and live among the Indians on Mle Susquehanna 
 
 iver. 
 11* 
 
126 LIFE OF BRAINERD. ol 
 
 and as this was the principal concern I had in view, 
 taking this journey, so I took pains in it, and hope 
 will succeed it, if for. his glory.” He first went int 
 various parts of New-Jersey, and visited several mi 
 ters there; then went to New-York; and from th 
 into New-England, going to various parts of Connee 
 ticut. He then returned to New-Jersey, and met a num 
 ber of ministers at Woodbridge, “ who,” he says “ met 
 there to consult about the affairs of Christ’s kingdom.” 
 He seems, for the most part, to have been free io 
 melancholy in this journey; and many times to hay 
 had extraordinary assistance in public ministratio: 
 and his preaching was sometimes attended with ve 
 hopeful appearances of a good effect on the auditory, 
 He also had many seasons of special comfort and a 
 
 tual refreshment, in conversation with ministers 
 other Christian friends, and also in meditation 
 prayer when alone. - - 
 
 April 13.—“Rode home to ‘my own house at the 
 Forks of Delaware; was enabled to remember the good+ 
 ness of the Lord, whe has now preserved me while fi- 
 ding full six frundred miles in this journey; and kept 
 me that noneof my bones have been broken. Blessed 
 be the Lord, who has preserved me in this tedious jour 
 ney, and returned me in safety to my own housé, 
 Verily it 1s God who has phere me, and guarded my 
 goings. 
 
 Lord’s day, April 14—“Was disordered in bo¢ 
 with the fatigues of the late journey; but was enabled 
 however to preach to a considerabjé assembly of whi 
 people, gathered from all parts round about, with some 
 freedom, from Ezek. 33:11. ‘As I live saith the Lord, 
 &c. Had much more assistance than I expected.” — 
 
 This week he went a journey to Philadelphia, in o1 
 
1745.) AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 127 
 
 jer to engage the Governor to use his interest with 
 the chief of the Six Nations, with whom he maintain- 
 ed a strict friendship, that- he would give him leave to 
 ive at Susquehanna, and instruct the Indians who are 
 within their territories. 
 
 . April 26.—“Conversed with a Christian friend with 
 jome warmth; and felt a spirit of mortification to the 
 world» in a very great degree. Afterward,: was en- 
 sbled to pray fervently, and to rely on God sweetly, 
 or ‘all things pertaining to life and godliness.’ Just 
 nm the evening, was visited by a dear Christian friend, 
 
 vith whom I spent an hour or two in conversation, on 
 he very soul of religion. There are many with when 
 | can talk about religion; but alas! I find few with 
 vhom I can talk religion itself; but, blessed be the 
 Lord there are some that love to feed on the kernel, 
 iather than the shell. 
 
 April 30.—“ Was scarce able to walk about, and was 
 ibliged to betake myself to bed much of the day; and 
 yassed away the time in a very solitary manner; being 
 jeither able to read, meditate, nor pray, and had none 
 0 converse with in this wilderness. O how heavily 
 joes time pass.away whenI can do nothing to any 
 tood purpose; but seem obliged to trifle away precious 
 ime! But of late I have seen it my duty to divert 
 nyself by all lawful means, that I may be fit, at least 
 ‘ome small part of my time, to labor for God. And 
 sere is the difference between my present diversions, 
 nd those I once pursued, when in a natural state. 
 [hen I made a God of my diversions, delighted in 
 jhem with a neglect of God, and drew my highest sa- 
 ‘isfaction from them. Now I use them as means to 
 1elp me in living to God; fixedly delighting in him, 
 ind not in them, drawing my highest satisfaction from 
 
 | 
 
128 LIFE OF BRAINERD. _—_ [C1 
 
 him. Then they were my all; now they are 
 means leading to my all. yer those things that i 
 the greatest diversion, when pursued with this view, 
 do not tend to hinder, but promote my spirituali 
 and I see now, more than ever, that they are absolute 
 necessary. ;, — 
 May 2.—“In the evening, being a little better in 
 health, I walked into the woods, and enjoyed q swe 
 season of meditation and prayer. My thoughts 
 upon Psalm 17: 15. ‘I shall be satisfied, when 1 awake 
 with thy likeness.’ And it was indeed a precious te 
 tome. I longed to preach to the whole world; andi 
 seemed to me they must needs all be melted in he 
 ing such precious divine truths as I then had a vie} 
 of. My thoughts were exceeding clear, and my, SC 
 was refreshed. Blessed be the Lord, that in my lak 
 and present weakness, now for many days togetl 
 my mind is not gloomy, as at some other times. 
 May 7.—“ Spent the day mainly in making prepara 
 tion for a journey into the wilderness. Was still we 
 and concerned how I should perform so difficult ajo 
 ney; but wanted bodily strength to spend the day i 
 fasting and prayer.” "i 
 The next day he set out on his journey to the § 
 quehanna, with his interpreter. He endured great ha 
 ships and fatigues in his way thither through the 
 derness ; where, after having lodged one night in 
 open woods, he was overtaken with a north-easte 
 storm, in which he was ready to perish. Having 
 manner of shelter, and not being able to make a f 
 so great a rain, he could have no comfort if he stopped 
 he therefore determined to go forward in hope 
 meeting with some shelter, without which he tho 
 it impossible to live the night through ; but their hor 
 
 4 
 
145.) JOURNEY TO SUSQUEHANNA. 129° 
 
 tappening to eat poison, for the want of other food, at 
 | place where they lodged the night before, were so 
 ick that they could neither ride nor lead them, but 
 ei obliged to drive them and travel on foot; until, 
 hrough the mercy of God, just at dusk they came to 
 bark hut, where they lodged that night. After he 
 ‘ame to-the Susquehanna he traveled about a hundred 
 uiles on the river, and visited many towns and settle- 
 aents of the Indians; saw some of seven or eight 
 tribes, and preached to different nations, by different 
 aterpreters. He was sometimes much discouraged, 
 ind sunk in his spirits, through the opposition which 
 ‘ppeared in the Indians to Christianity. At other times 
 ‘e vas encouraged by the disposition which some of 
 hese people manifested to hear, and their willingness 
 3 be instrueted. He here met with some who had 
 brmerly been his hearers at Kaunaumeek, and had 
 anes hither ; who saw and heard him again with 
 ‘reat joy. Hespent a fortnight among the Indians on , 
 his river, and passed through many labors and hard- 
 ‘hips, lodging on the ground for several weeks, and 
 ‘ometimes in the open air. At length he became ex- 
 /remely ill, as he was riding in the wilderness, being 
 /eized with an ague, followed with a burning fever 
 nd extreme pains in his head and bowels, attended 
 vith a great evacuation of blood ; so that he thought 
 \e must have perished in the wilderness. But at last 
 ‘oming to an Indian trader’s hut, he got leave to stay 
 here; and though without physic or food proper for 
 iim, it pleased God, after about a week’s distress, to 
 ‘elieve him so far that he was able to ride. He re- 
 urned homeward from Juncauia, an island far down 
 | hhe river, where were a considerable number of Indians, 
 vho appeared more free from prejudices against Chris- 
 
 > 
 
Le aoe 
 : 4 ’ . 
 ‘ 
 
 130 LIFE OF BRAINERD. Lowel 
 
 tianity than most of the other Indians; and arrived 
 the Forks of Delaware on Thursday, May 30; a 
 having rode in this journey about three hundred a 
 forty miles. He came home in a very week state, a 
 under dejection of mind; which was a great hindrai 
 to him in religious exercises. However, on the Sab 
 bath, after having preached to the Indians, he preache 
 to the white people with some success, from Isaiah 
 53:10. “ Yet it pleased the-Lord to bruise him,” & 
 some being awakened by his preaching. The nex 
 day he was much exercised for want of spiritual li 
 and fervency. 
 
 June 5.—“ Felt thirsting desires after God, in th 
 morning. In the evening, enjoyed a precious seasol 
 of retirement: was favored with some clear and swe 
 meditations upon a sacred text; divine things opene 
 with clearness and certainty, and had a divine sta 
 upon them. My soul was also enlarged and refreshe 
 in prayer ; I delighted to continue in the duty ; end w 
 sweetly assisted in praying for my fellow Christians 
 and dear brethren in the ministry. Blessed be the de 
 Lord for such enjoyments. O how sweet and precion 
 it is to have a clear apprehension and tender sense @ 
 the mystery of godliness, of true holiness, and of li 
 ness to the best of beings! O what a blessedness iti 
 to be as much like God as it is possible for a creatm 
 to be like his great Creator! Lord give me more of th 
 likeness ; ‘I shall be satisfied, when I awake, with it?’ 
 
 On Friday, June 7, he went a journey of near fill 
 miles, to Neshaminy, to assist at a sacramental occasion 
 to be attended at Mr. Beatty’s meeting-house ; being in 
 vited thither by him and his people. ‘ 
 
 June 8.—“ Was exceedingly weak and fatigued 
 riding in the heat yesterday; but being desi 
 
745.) AT NESHAMINY. 131 
 
 reached in the afternoon, to a crowded audience, 
 ‘om Isaiah, 40: 1. ‘Comfort ye, comfort ye my 
 eople, saith your God.’ ‘God was pleased to give me 
 reat freedom, in opening the sorrows of his people, 
 nd in setting before them comforting considerations. 
 nd, blessed be the Lord, it was a sweet melting season 
 a the assembly. 
 
 _ Lord’s day, June 9.—“ Felt some longing desires of 
 ae presence of God to be with his people on the 
 nlemn occasion of the day. In the forenoon Mr. 
 eatty preached ; and there appeared some warmth in 
 ae assembly. Afterward, I assisted in the administra- 
 ion of the Lord’s supper: and toward the close of it, 
 
 'discoursed to the multitude extempore, with some 
 sference to that sacred passage, Isaiah,53: 10. ‘Yet 
 
 | pleased the Lord to bruise him.’ Here God gave me 
 reat assistance in addressing sinners: and the word 
 ras attended with amazing power: many scores, if 
 ot hundreds, in that great assembly, consisting oi 
 aree or “ve thousand, were much affected; so that 
 .ere was a ‘very great mourning, like the mourning 
 f Hadadrimmon.’ 
 
 _ June 10.—* Preached with a good degree of clear- 
 less and some sweet warmth from Psalm 17: 15. ‘I 
 hall be satisfied, when I awake, with thy likeness.’ 
 
 .nd blessed be God, there was a great solemnity, and 
 tention in the assembly, and sweet refreshment 
 mong God’s people; as was evident then and af- 
 arward. 
 
 June 11.—“ Spent the day mainly in conversation 
 vith dear Christian friends ; and enjoyed some sweet 
 onse of divine things. O iow desirable it is to keep 
 ompany with God’s dear children ! ‘These are the ex- 
 ellent ones of the earth,’ in whom, I can truly say - 
 
132 > BRAT 
 ‘is all my delight © what delight will it afford, 
 meet ae in a state of perfection ! Lord pre; 
 
 me for that state, 
 June 18.--“ Set out from New-Brunswick with a 
 sign to visit some Indians at a place called Cressi 
 
 _ sung, in New-Jersey, toward the sea. In the afternoo) 
 ' came to a place called Cranberry, and meeting will 
 serious minister, Mr. Macknight, I lodged there » 
 him. Had some enlargement and freedom in praye 
 with a number of people.” 
 
 CHAPTER VII.. 
 
 Being part 1st of his public journal of “the Rise and Progr 
 a remarkable work of grace among the Indians in New-J 
 and Pennsylvania, kept by order of the Society in Scotlar 
 propagating Christian knowledge.”— Commencement of hiss 
 
 weeksung.—Outpouring of the spirit.—Visit to the Forks 
 Delaware and the Susquehanna.—A Powaw.—A Conjurer 
 newal of labor at Crossweeksungs—Remarks on the worl 
 Divine Grace, 
 
 June 19.—Nov. 5, 1745. . 
 
 [We are now come to that part of Brainerd’s | 
 when he had the greatest suecess in his labors for th 
 good of souls, and in his particular business as a 1 
 
 ~ sionary to the Indians. After all his agonizing in p 
 and travailing in birth for their conversion—his ra 
 hopes and expectations, disappointments and | 
 
 _. ragements; after panting in a way of persevering p 
 labor, and suffering, as it were through a long” 
 at length the day dawns: “Weeping continues f 
 
ae ; i 
 
 745. ¢ AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 133 
 
 ight, but joy comes in the morning.” He went forth 
 veeping, “ bearing precious seed,” but now he comes 
 with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him.” The 
 lesired event is brought to pass at last; but at a time, 
 1a place, and upon subjects, that scarce ever entered 
 is heart.] 
 
 ¢ ae 
 
 ps Crossweeksung, in New-Jersey, June i7, 1745. 
 | Jyne 19.—“ [had spent most of my time for more than 
 year past among the Indians at the Forks of Dela- 
 ‘are, in Pennsylvania. During that time I made two 
 purnies to the Susquehanna, to treat with the Indians on 
 aat river respecting Christianity ; and not having had 
 my considerable appearance of special success in either 
 f those places, my spirits were depressed, and I was 
 ob a little discouraged. Hearing that there were a 
 ‘umber of Indians ata place called Crossweeksung, in 
 Jew-. ersey, nearly eighty miles south east’ from the 
 of Delaware, I deteymined to make them a visit, 
 
 ‘orks 
 ind see what might be. déne toward. christianizing 
 
 jem ; and accordingly arrived among them this day. 
 || “I found very few personsat the place I visited, and 
 
 erceived that the Indians in these parts were very 
 
 /auch ‘scattered. There were not more than two. or 
 aree families in a place; and these small settlements 
 rere six, ten, fifieen, twenty, or thirty miles, and some. 
 hore from that place. However, I preached to. those 
 
 »w I found ; who appeared well disposed, serious and 
 
 ttentive, and not inclined to cavil and object, as the 
 
 indians had done elsewhere. When I had concluded 
 
 ay discourse, I informed them (there being none but 
 
 _ few women and children) that I would willingly 
 
 isit them again the next day. Whereupon they 
 
 -eadily set out and traveled ten or fifteen miles, in- 
 | ies 2 ht * ‘Brainerd. 
 
 H 
 
 - 
 es re 
 
 a 
 
 | vie % y Ps 3 hin ayy 
 
134 LIFE OF BRAINERD: [Chap. 
 
 order to give notice to some of their friends at th 
 distance. ‘These women, like the woman of Samar 
 seemed desirous that others should see the man wh 
 had told them what they had done in their past lives 
 and the misery that attended their idolatrous ways. 
 
 June 20.—“ Visited and preached to the India 
 again as I proposed. Numbers were gathered at 
 invitations of their friends, who had heard me the¢ 
 before. These also appeared as attentive, orderly @ 
 well disposed, as the others: and none made any objec 
 tions, as Indians in other places have usually done, 
 
 June 22.—“ Preached to the Indians again. The 
 number, which at first consisted of seven or eight p 
 
 -sons, was now increased to nearly thirty. There ve 
 not only asolemn attention among them, but some col 
 siderable impression, it was apparent, was made up 
 their minds by divine truth. Some began to feel th 
 misery, and perishing state, and appeared concerfi 
 for a deliverance from it. 
 
 Lord’s day, June 23.—Preached to the Indians, 
 spent the day with them. Their number still increas 
 and all with one consent, seemed to rejoice in f 
 coming among them. Nota word of opposition w 
 heard from any of them against Christianity, althoug 
 in times past they had been as much opposed toa 
 thing of that nature as any Indians whatsoever. 
 of them, not many months before, were enraged 
 my Interpreter because he attempted to teach th 
 something of Christianity. 
 
 June %4.— Preached to the Indians at their desit 
 and upon their own motion. To see poor Pagans: i 
 sirous of hearing the gospel of Christ, animated me | 
 discourse to them; although I was now very wea 
 and my spirits much exhausted. They attended with’ 
 
¥ 
 
 ‘745. AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. - 135 
 
 *reatest seriousness and diligence ; and some concern 
 or their soul’s salvation was apparent among them. 
 _ June 27.—“ Visited and preached to the Indians 
 gain. eir number now amounted to about forty 
 ‘ersons. Their solemnity and attention still continued, 
 ind a considerable concern for their souls became very 
 parent among numbers of them. 
 | June 28.—“ The Indians being now gathered, a con- 
 \derable number of them, from their several and dis- 
 nt habitations, requested me to preach twice a day to 
 1em ; being desirous to hear as much as they possibly 
 ba while 1 was with them. I cheerfully complied 
 ith their request, and could not but admire the good- 
 of God, who I was persuaded had inclined them 
 hus to inquire after the way of salvation. 
 | June 29.—“ Preached twice to the Indians. Saw, as 
 thought, the hand of God very evidently, and in a 
 janner somewhat remarkable, making provision for 
 ieir subsistence together, in order to their being in- 
 lructed in divine things; for this day, and the day 
 before, with only walking a little way from the place 
 f our daily meeting, they killed three deer, which 
 ‘ere a seasonable supply for their wants, and without 
 thich, they could not have subsisted together in order 
 ) attend the means of grace. 
 | Lord’s day, June 30.—“ Preached twice this day also. 
 ‘bserved-yet more concern and affection among the 
 Dor heathen than ever; so that they even constrained 
 'e to tarry yet ionger with them, although my consti- 
 tion was exceedingly worn out, and my health much 
 apaired by my late fatigues and labors; and espe- 
 lally by my late journey to the Susquehanna in May 
 ist, in which I lodged on the ground for several 
 eeks together. , ; 
 | . 
 
 : 
 
ery 
 
 « 
 
 136 LIFE OF BRAINERD. » { Chap. 
 
 July 1.—* Preached again twice to a very seri¢ 
 and attentive assembly of Indians; they having 
 learned to attend on the worship of God with C 
 tian decency in all respects. There were now bet 
 forty and fifty persons of them present, old and you 
 {,spent a considerable time in discoursing with t 
 in a more private way} inquiring of them what 
 remembered of the great truths which had been tau 
 them from day to day; and may justly say, it 
 amazing to see how they had received and retai 
 the instructions given them, and what a measure 
 knowledge some of them had acquired in a few ds 
 
 July 2.—* Was obliged to leave these Indians % 
 Crossweeksung, thinking it my duty, as soon as he 
 would admit, again to visit those at the Forks of D 
 ware. When I came to take leave of them, and 
 speak particularly to each of them, they all earne: 
 inquired when I would come again, and expresset 
 great desire of being further instructed. Of their « 
 accord they agreed, that, when I should come ag 
 they would all meet and live together during my ¢ 
 tinuance with them ; and that they would use thei 
 most endeavors to gather all the other Indian 
 these parts who were yet more remote. Whe 
 parted from them, one told me, with many tears, * 
 wished God would change her heart;? another, t 
 ‘she wanted to find Christ ; and an old man who 
 been one of their chiefs, wept bitterly with concert 
 his soul. I then promised them to return as speedil 
 as my health and business elsewhere would perm 
 and felt not a little concern at parting, lest Z0 
 impressions, then apparent upon numbers of ther 
 might decline and wear off, when the means came 
 cease. Yet I could not but hope, that He, who 
 
1745] , AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 137 
 
 trusted had begun a good work among them, and who 
 { knew did not stand in need of means to carry it on, 
 would mantain and promote it. At the same time, I 
 must confess, that I had often seen encouraging ap- 
 oearances among the Indians elsewhere, prove wholly 
 abortive, and it appeared that the favor would be too 
 jreat, if God should now, after I had passed through 
 50 considerable a series of almost fruitless labors and 
 ‘atigues, and after my rising hopes had been so oftcn 
 hmstrated among these poor pagans, give me any spe- 
 vial success in my labors with them, I could not be- 
 lieve, and scarcely dared to hope, that the event would 
 pe so happy; and scarcely ever found myself more 
 suspended between hope and fear in any affair, or at 
 hny time, than in this. 
 
 | “This encouraging disposition, and readiness to re- 
 teive instruction, now apparent among the Indians, 
 leems to have been the happy effect of the conviction 
 which one or two of them met with, some time since, 
 tthe Forks of the Delaware; who have since endea- 
 rored to show their friends the evil of idolatry. Though 
 he other Indians seemed but little to regard, and rather 
 ‘o-deride them; yet this, perhaps, has put them into a 
 hinking posture of mind, or at least given them some 
 houghts about Christianity, and excited in some of 
 hem a curiosity to hear ; and so made way for the pre- 
 ‘ent encouraging attention. An apprehension that this 
 night be the case here, has given me encouragement 
 that God may, in such a manner, bless the means which 
 | have used with the Indians in other places ; where, 
 \s si ret there i is no appearance of it. Ifso, may his name 
 iave the ‘glory of it; for I have learnt, by experience, 
 ihat he only can open the ear, engage the attention, 
 | B. 12* 5 } : 
 
ay 
 
 . | 
 138 LIFE OF BRAINERD. , [Chop. Vi 
 
 and incline the hearts of poor benighted, Pre} dic 
 paganyy to receive instruction.” ; 
 
 Forks of Delaware, in Pennsylvania, Jay 1745, 
 
 Lord’s day, July 14.—“ Discoursed to the Indian 
 twice. Several of them appeared concerned, and were 
 { have reason to think, in some measure convinced, 
 the Divine Spirit, of their sin and misery ; so that they 
 wept much the whole time of divine service. Afi 
 ward discoursed to a number of white people 
 present. a 
 
 July 18.—“ Preached to my people, who attendedd 
 ligently beyond what had been common among th est 
 Indians; and some of them appeared concerned 
 their souls. 
 
 Lord’s day, July 21.—* Preached to the Indians first 
 then to a number of white people present; and in t 
 afternoon to the Indians again. Divine truth seemé 
 to make very considerable impressions upon several ¢ 
 them, and caused the tears to flow freely. : 
 
 “ On this day my interpreter and his wife publi 0 
 professed their faith in Christ, being the first hopefu 
 converts among the Indians. ‘Ihey have both bee 
 awakened to a solema concern for their souls; have, ti 
 appearance, been brought to a sense of their miset 
 and undoneness in themselves; have both appeared i 
 be comforted with divine consolations ; and it is ap 
 parent that both have passed a great, and I cannot bu 
 hope, a saving change. 
 
 “Tt may perhaps be satisfactory and agreeable, tha 
 should give some BRIEF RELATION OF THIS MAN’S E 
 CISES AND EXPERIENCE since he has been with me; 
 pecially since he is employed as my irra 
 others. When I first employed him in this busines 
 
 : 
 
745.) CONVERSION OF BIS INTERPRETER. 139 
 
 nm the beginning of the summer of 1744, he was well 
 itted for his work, in regard to his acquaintance with 
 he Indian and English languages, as well as with the 
 manners of both nations; and in respect to his desire 
 hat the Indians should conform to the manners and 
 ustoms of the English, and especially to their manner 
 f living. But he seemed to have little or no impres- 
 ion of religion upon his mind, and in that respect was 
 ‘ery unjit for his work ; being incapable of understand . 
 og and communicating to others many things of im- 
 ortance, so that I labored under great disadvantages 
 n addressing the Indians, for want of his having an 
 ixperimental, as well as more doctrinal acquaintance 
 vith divine truths ; and, at times, my spirits sunk, and 
 | was much discouraged under this difficulty; espe- 
 jially when I observed that divine truth made little or 
 0 impression upon his mind for many weeks toge- 
 her. He indeed behaved soberly after I employed 
 ‘im ; although before he had been a hard drinker, and 
 eemed honestly engaged, as far as he was capable. in 
 he performance of his work. Especially he appeared 
 jery desirous that the Indians shouid renounce their 
 xeathenish notions and practices, and conform to the 
 lustoms of the Christian world. But still he seemed 
 o have no concern about his own soul, until he had 
 ‘een with me a considerable time. 
 
 “ Near the latter end of July, 1744, I preached to an 
 issembly of white people, with more freedom and fer- 
 vency than I could possibly address the Indians with, 
 vithout their having first obtained a greater measure 
 »f doctrinal knowledge. At this time he was present, 
 ind was somewhat awakened to a concern for his soul; 
 o that the next day he discoursed freely with me 
 ibout his spiritual concerns, and gave me an opportu- 
 
| 
 140 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. Wi 
 
 -He thought if he could but make his way throug] 
 
 nity to use further endeavors to fasten the impress 
 of his perishing state upon his mind. I could plainh 
 perceive, for some time after this, that he addresse 
 the Indians with more concern and fervency thai 
 had formerly done. 
 
 “But these impressions seemed quickly to declin 
 and he remained in a great measure careless and se 
 cure, until some time late in the autumn of the 
 following ; when he fell into a weak and languishin, 
 state of body, and continued much disordered for seve 
 ral weeks tugether. At this season divine truth too! 
 hold of him, and made deep impressions upon his mimi 
 He was brought under great concern for his soul ; ait 
 his exercises were not now transient and unsteady, bu 
 constant and abiding, so that his mind was burden 
 from day to day; and it was now his great inquil 
 ‘What he should do to be saved? This spiri 
 trouble prevailed, until his sleep in a great measu 
 departed from him, and he had little rest day or nigh 
 but walked about under great pressure of mind, for hi 
 was still able to walk, and appeared like another ma 
 to his neighbors, who could not but observe his bel 
 vior with wonder. After he had been some time unde 
 this exercise, while he was striving to obtain merey 
 he says there seemed to be an impassable mounta 
 before him. He was pressing toward heaven, as it 
 thought ; but ‘his way was hedged up with thorns, § 
 that he could not stir an inch further.’ He looke 
 this way, and that way, but could find no way at all 
 
 these thorns and briers, and climb up the first steg 
 pitch of the mountain, that then there might be hap 
 for him; but no way or means could he find to 
 complish this. Here he labored for a time, but all 
 
| 
 '745.] CONVERSION OF HIS INTERPRETER. 141 
 
 ‘ain. He savy it was impossible, he says, for him ever 
 o help himself through this insupportable difficulty— 
 Tt signified just nothing at all for him to struggle and 
 trive any more.’ Here, he says, he gave over striving, 
 nd felt that it was a gone case with him as to his own 
 sower, and that all his attempts were, and for ever 
 yould be, vain and fruitless; Yet he was more calm 
 nd composed under this view of things, than he had 
 een while striving to help himself. 
 | “While he was giving me this account of his exer- 
 ises, I was not without fears that what he related was 
 wut the working of his own imagination, and not the 
 iffect of any divine illumination of mind. But before 
 _ had time to discover my fears, he added, that at this 
 ime he felt himself in a miserable and perishing con- 
 ition ; that he saw plainly what he had beert doing all 
 iis days; and that he had ‘ never done one good thing,’ 
 is he expressed it. He knew he was not guilty of some 
 vicked actions of which he knew some others guilty. 
 Je had not been accustomed to steal, quarrel, and 
 aurder ; the latter of which vices are common among 
 he Indians. He likewise knew that he had done many 
 ings that were right; he had been kind to his neigh- 
 int &c. Butstill his cry was, that ‘he had never done 
 ne good thing ; meaning that he had never done any 
 hing from a right principle, and with aright view. 
 ‘And now I thought,’ said he, ‘ that I must sink down 
 o hell; that there was no hope for me, becduse I 
 iever could do any thing that was good: and if God 
 et me alone ever so long, and I should try ever so 
 uch, still I should do nothing but what is bad.’ 
 | “ This further account of his exercises satisfied me 
 hat it was not the mere working of his imagination, 
 ince he appeared so evidently to die to himself, and 
 
 } 
 | 
 
 | 
 
142 LIFE OF’ BRAINERD. [Chap. vn 
 
 to be divorced from a dependence upon his own righ 
 ousness and good deeds, to which mankind in a fi 
 state are so much attached, and upon which they 
 so ready to hope for salvation. ; 
 
 “There was one thing more in his view of thing 
 at this time, which was very remarkable. He not only 
 saw,'he says, what a miserable state he himself was im) 
 but he likewise saw that the world around him, in gem 
 eral, were in the same perishing circumstances, not 
 withstanding the profession whieh many of them madi 
 of christianity, and the hope which they entertained @ 
 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 wat 
 now on the brink of endless misery; and when he 
 jJooked around he saw multitudes of others, who ha¢ 
 lived the same life with hin self, persons who had ne 
 more goodness than he, and yet dreamed that they 
 were safe enough, as he had formerly done. He wai 
 fully persuaded, by their conversation and behavior, 
 that they had never felt their sin and misery, as he 
 now felt his. 
 
 “After he had been for's some time in this conti on 
 sensible of the impossibility of helping himself by any 
 thing he could do, or of being delivered by any created 
 arm; so that he had ‘given up all for lost,’ as to hii 
 own attempts; and was become more calm and com- 
 posed; then, he says, it was borne in upon his mind, a 
 if it had been audibly spoken to him, ‘There is hope, 
 there is hope.’. Whereupon his soul seemed to re! 
 and be in some measure satisfied, though he had 
 
 Al 
 
 considerable joy. “a 
 “He cannot here remember distinctly any ew 
 
 at. P 
 
745.) CONVERSION OF HIS INTERPRETER. 143 
 
 ad of Christ, or give any clear account of his soul’s 
 eceptance of him, which makes his experience appear 
 ae more doubtful, and renders it less satisfactory to 
 imself and others than it might be if he could remem- 
 er distinctly the apprehensions and actings of his - 
 aind at this season. But these exercises of soul were 
 itended and followed with a very great change in the 
 jan; so that it might justly be said he was become 
 nother man, if not a new man. His conversation and 
 eportment were much altered ; and even the careless 
 rorld could not but wonder what had befallen him, to 
 
 yake so great a change in his temper, discourse, and 
 
 ehavior. Especially there was a surprising alteration 
 
 -nhis public performances. He now addressed the In- 
 
 jans with admirable fervency, and scarcely knew 
 then to leave off. Sometimes, when I had concluded 
 ay discourse and was returning homeward, he would 
 srry behind to repeat and inculcate what had been 
 poken. 
 
 | “His change is abiding, and his life, so far as I know, 
 mblemished to this day; though it is now more than 
 ix months since he experienced this change; in which 
 pace of time he has been as much exposed to strong 
 rink as possible, in divers places where it has been 
 noving as free as water; and yet has never, that I 
 ‘now of, discovered any hankewne desire after it. He 
 eems to have a very considerable experience of spirt- 
 nal exercise, and discourses feelingly of the conflicts 
 md consolations of a real Christian. His heart echoes 
 
 > the soul-humbling doctrines of grace, and he never 
 
 ppears better pleased than when he hears of the ab- 
 olute sovereignty of God, aud the salvation of sinners 
 away of mere free grace. He has lately had also 
 pase satisfaction respecting his own state. and: has... 
 
7 
 14 . LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. ¥ 
 
 been much enlightened and assisted in his work; 
 that he has been a great comfort to me. ‘ 
 
 “ After a strict observation of his serious and savo 
 conversation, his christian temper, and unblemish 
 behavior for such a length of time, as well as his ¢ 
 perience, of which I have given an account; I 
 that I have reason to hope that he is ‘created anew 
 Christ Jesus to good works.’ His name is Mosrs 
 pa Fauraury. He is about fifty years of age, a 
 
 retty well acquainted with the pagan notions and ev 
 fins of his countrymen ; and so is the better able ne 
 _ toexpose them. He has, I am persuaded, already be 
 and I trust will yet be, a blessing to the other Indiat 
 
 July 23.—“ Preached to the Indians, but had 
 hearers: Those who are constantly at home, se 
 late, to be under some impressions of a religious na 
 
 July 30.—“Discoursed to a number of my peop 
 and gave them some partieular advice and directio 
 being now about to leave them for the present, in 
 der to renew my visit to the Indians in New-Je 
 They were very attentive tomy discourse, and earn 
 
 _ly desirous to know when I designed to return to th 
 again.” " 
 re 
 
 Crossweeksung, (New-Jersey,) August, 17 
 
 Aug. 3.—“T visited the Indians in these parts in J 
 last, and tarried with them a considerable time, pre 
 ing almost daily ; at which season God was ple 
 pour upon them a spirit of awakening and concern 
 
 the’. souls, and surprisingly to engage their i 
 
 to divine truths. I now found them serious, anda 
 ter of them under deep concern for an interest j 
 Christ. Their convictions of their sinful and perisi 
 
745.) AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 145 
 
 ng state were, in my absence from them, much promo- 
 ad by the labors and endeavors of Rev. Wittiam 'TEN- 
 ‘ent; to whom I had advised them to apply for direc- 
 hai; and whose house they frequented much while I 
 yas gone. I preached to them this day with some ° 
 iew to Rev. 22:17. ‘And whosoever will, let him 
 ake of the water of life freely ;’ though I could not 
 iretend to handle the subject methodically among 
 hem. ‘The Lord, I am persuaded, enabled me, in a 
 janner somewhat uncommon, to set before them the 
 ord Jesus Christ as a kind and compassionate Savior, 
 aviting distressed and perishing sinners to accept ever- 
 asting mercy. A surprising concern soon became ap- 
 arent among them. There were about twenty adult 
 oa together; many of the Indians at remote pla- 
 
 es not having as yet had time to come since my re- 
 rn hither; and not above two that I could see with 
 ry eyes. 
 
 “Some were much concerned, and discovered vehe- 
 ent longings of soul after Christ, to save them from 
 e misery they felt and feared. 
 
 | Lord’s day, Aug. 4.—“ Being invited by a neighbor- 
 
 I minister to assist in the administration of the Lord’s 
 
 pper, I complied with. his. request, and took the In-' 
 ‘ians along with me; not only those who were: togeth- 
 r the day before, but many more who were coming to 
 year me; £0 that there were nearly fifty in all, old and 
 young. They attended the several discourses of the 
 lay; and some of them, who could understand English, 
 vere much affected; and all seemed to have their con- 
 ‘ern in some measure raised. 
 | “Now a change in their manners began to appear 
 rery visible. In the evening, when they came to sup 
 ogether they would not taste a morsel until they had 
 13 Brainerd. 
 
 | 
 | 
 | 
 | 
 
146 LIFE OF BRAINERD. lon 
 
 sent to me to come and supplicate a blessing on th 
 food; at which time sundry of them wept; especial 
 when I reminded them how they had in times past 
 their feasts in honor to devils, and neglected to than 
 God for them. 
 August 5.—“ After a sermon had been preached b 
 another minister, I preached, and concluded the publi 
 ‘work of the solemnity from John, 7: 37; and inm 
 discourse addressed the Indians in particular, who 
 in a part of the house by themselves; at which tim 
 one or two of them were struck with deep concern 
 ‘they afterward told me, who had been little affecte 
 before; and others had their concern increased 
 considerable degree. In the evening, the greater pa 
 of them being at the house where I lodged, I discourse 
 to them, and found them universally engaged abot 
 their soul’s concerns; inquiring ‘what they should 
 tobe saved.’ All their conversation among themseli 
 turned upon religious matters, in which they wer 
 assisted by my Interpreter, who was with them da 
 and night. 
 . “This day there was one woman, who had bee 
 much concerned for her soul ever since she first, hear 
 me preach in June last, who obtained comfort, I trus 
 solid and well grounded. She seemed to be filled wit 
 love to Christ. At the same time she behaved humbl 
 and tenderly, and appeared afraid of nothing so mue 
 as of offending and grieving him whom her soul love 
 Aug. 6.—“ In the morning I discoursed to the h 
 _ dians at the house where we lodged. Many of thier 
 were much affected, and appeared surprisingly tende’ 
 80 that a few erisie about the concerns of their sou! 
 ‘would cause the tears to flow freely, and produce man 
 ‘ sobs and groans. In the afternoon they being returne 
 
1743.) OUTPOURING OF THE SPIRIT. 147 
 
 to the place where I had usually preached among 
 them, I again discoursed to them there. There were 
 about fifty-five persons in all; about forty that were 
 rapable of attending Divine service with understand- 
 ‘ng. Linsisted on 1 John, 4:10. ‘Herein is love. 
 &e. They seemed eager of hearing; but there ap. 
 peared nothing very remarkable, except their atten- 
 on, till near the close of my discourse; and then 
 Divine truth was attended with a surprising influence, 
 produced a great concern among them. There 
 searcely three in forty who could refrain from 
 and bitter cries. They all as one seemed in an 
 wee of soul to obtain an interest in Christ ; and the 
 ore I discoursed of the love and compassion of God 
 jn sending his Son to suffer for the sins of men; and 
 jhe mare I invited them to come and partake of his 
 jove ; the more their distress was aggravated, because 
 jhey felt themselves unable to come. It was surprising 
 see how their hearts seemed to be pierced with the 
 ender and melting invitations of the Gospel, when 
 ihere was not a word of terror spoken to them. 
 I “There were this day two persons who obtained 
 and comfort ; which, when I came to discourse 
 with them particularly, appeared solid, rational, and 
 jeriptural. After I had inquired into the grounds of 
 = comfort, and said many things which I thought 
 per tothem ; I asked them what they wanted that 
 od should do farther for them? They replied, ‘they 
 santed Christ should wipe their hearts quite clean,’ 
 ¢. So surprising were now the doings of the Lord, 
 at I ean say no less of this day, and I need say no 
 ore of it, than that the arm gf the Lord was power- 
 ually and marvellously revealed in it. 
 Aug. 7—* Preached to the Indians from Isaiah, 53: 
 
 iP a 
 
bd 
 148 “LIFE OF BRAINERD; [Chap. Vit 
 
 3-10. There was a remarkable influence att 
 the word, and great concern in the assermb‘y ; 
 scarcely equal to what appeared the day before, 
 1s, Not quite so universal. However, most were 
 affected, and many in great distress for their so 
 and some few could neither go nor stand, but lay 
 on the ground, as if pierced at heart, crying incessa 
 for mercy. Several were newly awakened; and} 
 was remarkable that as fast as they came from rem 
 places round about, the Spirit of God seemed to seize 
 them with concern for their souls. After public 
 vice was concluded I found two persons more a 
 had newly met with comfort, of whom I had 
 hopes; and a third of whom I could not but enter 
 some hopes, whose case did not appear so clear as the 
 others ; so that there were now six in all, who had 
 some relief from their spiritual distresses; and 
 whose experience appeared very clear and satisfacto 
 It is worthy of remark, that those who obtained cot 
 fort first were in general deeply affected with con 
 for their souls when I preached to them in June | 
 Aug. 8.—“ In the afternoon I preached to the 
 dians, their number was now about sirty-five perso 
 men, women, and children. I discoursed upon Lu 
 14 : 16-23, and was favored with uncommon freed 
 There was much visible concern among them while] 
 was discoursing publicly ; but afterward, when I spol 
 to one and another more particularly, whom I p 
 ceived under much concern, the power of God see 
 to descend upon the assembly ‘like a mighty rush* 
 wind, and with an astonishing energy bore down 
 before it. I stood amazed at the influence which sei 
 the audience almost universally; and could compare 
 it to nothing more aptly than the irresistible force of a 
 
 f 
 
745.) OUTPOURING OF THE SPIRIT. 149 
 
 nighty torrent, or swelling deluge, that with its insup- 
 sortable weight and pressure bears down and sweeps 
 sefore it whatever is in its way. Almost all persons 
 if all ages were bowed down with concern together, 
 .nd scarcely one was able to withstand the shock of 
 his surprising operation. Old men and women who 
 jad been drunken wretches for many years, and some 
 ttle children not more than six or seven years of age, 
 \ppeared in distress for their souls, as well as persons 
 of middle age. It was apparent that these children, 
 ome of them at least, were not merely frightened with 
 eeing the general concern, but were made sensible of 
 heir danger, the badness of their hearts, and their 
 nisery without Christ, as some of them expressed it. 
 
 The most stubborn ae were now obliged to bow. 
 N principal man among the Indians, who before was 
 nost secure and self-righteous, and thought his state 
 ood, because he knew more fhan the generality of the 
 ndians had formerly done ; and who with a great de- 
 sree of confidence the day hefore dole: me ‘he had 
 yeena Christian more than ten years; ” was now brought 
 inder solemn concern for his soul, and wept bitterly. 
 
 \nother man advanced in years, whe had been a mur- 
 lerer, a powaw or conjurer, and a notorious drunkard, 
 
 vas likewise brought now to cry for mercy with ma- 
 iy tears, and to complain much that he could be no 
 ‘nore concerned, when he saw his danger so very great. 
 | © They were almost universally praying and crying 
 or mercy in every part of the house, and many out of 
 loors; and numbers could neither go nor stand. 
 
 Their concern was so great, each one for himself, that 
 ione seemed to take any notice of those about them, 
 yut each prayed freely for himself. I am led to think 
 hey were. to their own apprehensions, as muc’ retired, 
 BE 13* 
 
a 
 
 150 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. Vl 
 
 as if they had been individually by themselves, in 
 thickest desert ; or I believe rather that they though 
 about nothing but themselves, and their own sta 
 and so were every one praying apart, although all te 
 _ gether, It seemed to me that there was now an € 
 fulfilment of that prophecy, Zech. 12: 10, 11, 12; 
 there was now ‘a great mourning, like the mourn) 
 of Hadadrimmon ;—and each seemed to ‘ m 
 apari.’? Methought this had a near resemblance to 
 day of God’s power, mentioned in Josh. 10: 14; 
 must say I never saw any day like it, in all respe 
 it was a day wherein I am persuaded the Lord 
 much to destroy the kingdom of darkness among 
 people. ce 
 
 “ This concern, in general, was most rational an 
 just. Those who had been awakened any ene 
 time, complained more especially of the badnes: 
 their hearts ; and those who were newly awakened, 
 the badness of their lives and actions ; and all 
 afraid of the anger of God, and of everlasting miser 
 as the desert of their sins. Some of the white peop) 
 who came out of curiosity to hear what ‘ this babble 
 would say’ to the poor ignorant Indians, were mu 
 awakened; and some appeared to be wounded with 
 view of their perishing state. Those who had latél 
 obtained relief, were filled with comfort at this seaso 
 They appeared calm and composed, and seemed 
 rejoice in Christ Jesus. Some of them too Oa 
 tressed friends by the hand, telling them of the gi 
 ness of Christ, and the comfort that is to he enjoyed i 
 him; and thence invited them to come and give 
 their hearts to him. I could observe some of them, | 
 the most honest and unaffected manner, without an 
 design of being taken notice of, lifting up their ey 
 
745.) OUTPOURING OF THE SPIRIT. 151 
 
 > heaven, as if crying for mercy, while they saw the 
 istress of the poor souls around them. There was 
 ine remarkable instance of awakening this day which 
 formant to notice here. A young Indian woman, 
 ho, I believe, never knew before that she had a soul, 
 or ever thought of any such thing, hearing that there 
 vas something strange among the Indians, came,, it 
 »ems, to see what was the matter. In her way to 
 he Indians she called at my lodgings; and when I 
 old her that I designed presently to preach to the In- 
 ians, laughed, and seemed to mock ; but went however 
 »them. Ihad notproceeded far in my public discourse 
 efore she felt effectually that she had a soul; and be- 
 bre I had concluded my discourse was so convinced 
 ff her sin and misery, and so distressed with concern 
 br her soul’s salvation, that she seemed like one 
 ierced through with a dart, and cried out incessantly. 
 ‘he could neither go nor-stand, nor sit on her seat 
 yithout being held up. After public service was over 
 ne lay flat on the ground, praying earnestly, and 
 yould take no notice of, nor give any answer to any 
 ho spoke to her. I hearkened to what she said, and 
 erceived the burden of her prayer to be, ‘ Guttum- 
 jhaukalummeh wechaumeh kmeleh Nolah,’ i. e. ‘ Have 
 aercy on me, and help me to give you my hearl.’ Thus 
 he continued praying incessantly for many hours 
 gether. This was indeed a surprising day of God’s 
 ower, and seemed enough to convince an Atheist of 
 he truth, importance, and power of God’s word. 
 
 | Aug. 9.—“ Spent almost the whole day with the In 
 
 jians ; the former part of it in discoursing to many o. 
 hem privately, and especially to some who had lately 
 ceived comfort, and endeavoring to inquire into the 
 ounds of it,as well as to give them, some proper n- 
 
 | 
 | actions, cautions and directions. 
 
| 
 
 152 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. vl 
 
 “In the afternoon discoursed to them publi 
 There were now present about seventy a 
 and young. I opened and applied the parable of th 
 sower, Matt. 13, Wasenabled to discourse with mue 
 plainness, and found afterward that this discourse wa 
 -very instructive to them. There were many tear 
 among them while I was discoursing publicly, but n 
 considerable cry ; yet some were much affected with 
 few words spoken from Matt. 11 : 28, ‘Come unto 
 all ye that labor,’ &c. with which I concluded my 
 course. But, while I was discoursing near nightt 
 two or three of the awakened persons, a Divine in 
 fluence seemed to attend what was spoken to them. 
 a powerful manner, which caused the persons to er, 
 out in anguish of soul, although I spoke not a word ¢ 
 terror, but.on the contrary, set before them the fullnes 
 and all-sufficiency of Christ’s merits, and his willing 
 ness to save all that come to him, and thereupon presse 
 them to come without delay. The cry of these was soo 
 heard by others, who, though scattered before, imme 
 diately gathered aL I then proceeded in the sam 
 strain of gospel invitation, till they were all nell 
 into tears and cries except two or three; and see 
 
 in the greatest distress to find and secure an inter 
 
 the great Redeemer. Some who had little more 
 
 a ruffle made in their passions the day before, seemt 
 now to be deeply affected and wounded at heart; 
 the concern in general appeared nearly as prevalen’ 
 the day before. There was indeed a very great mo 
 ing ainong them, and yet every one seemed to 
 apart. For so great was their concern, that al 
 every one was praying and crying for himself, asi 
 . none had been near. . ‘ Guttummauhalummeh ; Gut 
 tummauhalummeh,’ i. e. ‘ Have mercy upon me + have 
 
a5.y™ OUTPOURING OF THE SPIRIT. 153 
 
 ‘ercy upon me, was the common cry. It was very 
 Tecting to see the poor Indians, who the other day 
 ‘ere hallooing and yelling in their idolatrous feasts 
 i drunken frolics, now erying to God with such im- 
 riunity for an interest in hisdear Son! Found two 
 three persons who, I had reason to hope, had taken 
 mfort upon good grounds since the evening -before ; 
 d these, with others who had obtained comfort, were 
 gether, and seemed to rejoice much that God was 
 trying on his work with such power upon others. 
 | August 10.—* Rode to the Indians, and began to dis- 
 urse more privately to those who had obtained com- 
 © and satisfaction ; endeavoring to instruct, direct, 
 4ution, and ailifort them. But others, being eager 
 f hearing every word which related to spiritual con- 
 érns, soon came together one after another ; and, when 
 had ‘diseomnmed to the young converts more than half 
 a hour, they seemed much melted with divine things, 
 id earnestly desirous to be with Christ. I told them 
 “the godly soul’s perfect purity and full enjoyment 
 Christ, immediately upon its separation from the 
 ody; and that it would be for ever inconceivably more 
 hppy than they had ever been for any short space of 
 Ine, when Christ seemed near to them in prayer or 
 ‘her duties. That I might make way for speaking ot 
 ‘e resurrection of the body, and thence of the com- 
 ‘ete blessedness of the man; I said, ‘ But perhaps 
 ‘me of you will say, I love my body as well as my 
 sul, and I cannot bear to think that my body shall lie 
 bad, if my soul is happy.’ To which they all cheer- 
 ‘lly replied, ‘ Muttoh, Muttoh ;’ before I had opportu- 
 ity to prosecute what I designed respecting the resur- 
 ‘ction; i. e. ‘ No, No,” They did not regard their bo- 
 les, if their sows might be with Christ. Then thev - 
 
 | ny 
 
 | be | 
 
154 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [haps WE 
 
 appeared willing to be absent from the body, that 
 might be present with the Lord. 
 
 “ When I had spent some time with them I tu 
 to the other Indians, and spoke to them from L 
 19:10. ‘ For the Son of man is come to seek a! 
 save that which was lost.’ I had not discoursed 
 before their concern rose to a great degree, and 
 house was filled with cries and groans. When 
 sisted on the compassion and care of the Lord J 
 Christ for those that were lost, who thought themse 
 undone, and could find no way of escape; this melt 
 them down the more, and aggravated their dist 
 that they could not find and come to so kind a Sa 
 
 “Sundry persons, who before had been slig 
 awakened, were now deeply wounded with a se 
 their sin and misery. One man in particular, who 
 never before awakened, was now made to feel that “ 
 word of the Lord was quick and powerful, sharp 
 than any two-edged sword.’ He seemed to be pie re 
 at heart with distress, and his concern appeared 
 tional and scriptural, for he said that ‘all the wicke 
 ness of his past life was brought fresh to his rem e 
 brance, and that he saw all the vile actions he had da 
 formerly, as if done but yesterday.’ 
 
 ‘“‘ Found one who had newly received comfort, al 
 pressing distress from day to day. Could not but r 
 jcice and admire the divine goodness in what appe 
 this day. There seems to be some good done by evel 
 discourse ; some newly awakened every day, and sot 
 comforted. It was refreshing to observe the condi 
 of those who obtained comfort : while others were J 
 tressed with fear and concern, they were —_ 
 
 . their hearts to God for them. ~ 
 Lord’s day, Aug. 11.—“ Discoursed in the foreno 
 
1745.) OU'TPOURING OF THE SPIRIT. 155 — 
 
 ‘rom the parable of the Prodigal Son. Luke, 15. Ob- 
 erved no such remarkable effect of the word upon the 
 ssembly as in days past. There were numbers of 
 jareless spectators from the white people, of various 
 vharacters. In the afternoon I discoursed upon a part 
 € Peter’s sermon. Acts, 2. And at the close of my 
 iinaee to the Indians, made an address to the white 
 eople; and divine truth seemed then to be attended 
 Bien er, both to English and Indians. Several of 
 e white heathen were awakened, and could not 
 ynger be idle spectators; but found they. had souls to 
 ave or lose as well as the Indians; and a great concern 
 read through the whole aswembly ; So that this also 
 peared to be a day of God’s power, especially to- 
 ard the conclusion of it, although the influence at- 
 mnding the word seemed scarcely so powerful now as 
 ! some days past. 
 is “The number of Indians, old and young, was now 
 pward of seventy ; and one or two were newly awak- 
 ned this day who never had appeared to be moved 
 9 concern for their souls before. Those who had 
 tained relief and comfort, and had given hopeful 
 yidences of having passed a saving change, appeared 
 umble and devout, and behaved in an agreeable and 
 hvistian-like manner. I was refreshed to see the ten- 
 srness of conscience manifest in some of them; one 
 rai of which I cannot but notice. Perceiving one 
 ‘them very sorrowful in the morning; I inquired inte 
 ‘e cause of her sorrow, and found the difficulty was 
 \at she had been angry with her child the evening 
 »fore, and was now exercised with fears lest her anger 
 ad been inordinate and sinful ; which so grieved her 
 iat she awoke and began to solbefore day light, and . 
 yrstinued weeping for several hours together. : : 
 
 | 
 
 | 
 
156 ‘ LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. WI 
 
 August 14.— “Spent the day with the Indians. 
 was one of them who had some time since put aw 
 his wife, as is common among them, and taken. an 
 woman; and being now brought under some serio) 
 impressions, was much concerned about that affair 
 particular, and seemed fully convinced of the wicke 
 ness of the practice, and earnestly desirous to k Y 
 what God would have him to do in his present cireur 
 stances. When the law of God respecting ma: 
 had been opened to them, and the cause of his lea i 
 his wife inquired into, and when it appeared tha’ 
 had given him no just occasion, by unchastity, t¢ 
 sert her, and that she was willing to forgive his pa 
 misconduct and to live peaceably with him for the 
 ture, and that she, moreover, insisted on it as her rig 
 to live with him ; he was then told that it was hisi 
 dispensable duty to renounce the woman whom] 
 had last taken, and receive the other, who was! 
 proper wife, and live peaceably with her during | 
 With this he readily and cheerfully complied ; 2 
 thereupon publicly renounced the woman he had Ie 
 taken, and promised to live with and be kind tol 
 wife during life ; she also promising the same to ii 
 Here appeared a clear demonstration of the. power 
 God’s word upon their hearts. I suppose a few 
 before the whole world could not have persuad 
 man to a compliance with Christian rules in this 
 
 “ T was not without fears that this proceeding 
 be like putting ‘new wine into old bottles; and th 
 some might be prejudiced against Christianity, 
 they saw the demands made by it. But the man b 
 much concerned about the matter, the determinati 
 of 1i could be deferred no longer ; and it seemed 
 a good, rather than an ill effect among the Indians, W! 
 
 > ; 
 
ae . 
 
 (745.) OUTPOURING OF THE SPiRIT. 157 
 
 yenerally owned that the laws of Christ were good and 
 ight respecting the affairs of marriage. In the after- 
 ‘oon I preached to them from the apostle’s discourse 
 o Cornelius. Acts, 10:34. There appeared some af- 
 eetionate concern among them, though not equal to 
 vhat appeared in several of the former days. They 
 » attended and heard as for their lives, and the 
 ,ord’s work seemed still to be promoted and propa- 
 lated among them. 
 | August 15.—‘ Preached from Luke, 4: 16-21. The 
 rord was attended with power upon the hearts of the 
 ‘earers. There was much concern, many tears, and 
 flecting cries among them; and some were deeply 
 rounded and distressed for ee souls. There were 
 pme newly awakened who came but this week, and 
 onvictions seemed to be promoted in others. Those 
 cho had received comfort, were likewise refreshed and 
 rengthened ; and the wwiontk of grace appeared to ad- 
 ae in all respects. ‘The passions of the congrega- 
 on in general were not so much moved as in some 
 ys past; but their heerisseemed as solemnly and deep- 
 v affected with divine truth as ever, at least in many 
 ‘stances, although the concern did not seem so uni- 
 rsal, = to reach every individual in such a manner 
 } it anon to do some days before. 
 | August. 16.—“ Spent considerable time in convers- 
 g with the Indians. Found one who had got relief 
 a comfort after pressing concern; and could not but 
 i when I came to discourse particularly with her, 
 t her comfort was o1 the right kind. In the after- 
 on I preached to then: fi »m John, 6 : 26-34. To- 
 d the close of my discourse vine truth was at- 
 
 mded with considerable power upon the audience; 
 14 Brsinerd. 
 
 ete ei 
 
 * 
 
~~ om . e 
 Ry 
 18 ~~ ia LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. ¥1 
 
 ¥; 
 
 and more especially after public service was over, whi 
 I particularly addressed several distressed persons. 
 
 “ There was a great concern for their souls spre: 
 pretty generally among them; but especially the 
 were two persons newly awakened to a sense of the 
 sin and misery ; one of whom was lately come, ai 
 the other had all along been very attentive and desiro’ 
 of being awakened, but could never before have at 
 lively view of her perishing state. Now her conce 
 and spiritual distress was such, that I thought I hi 
 never seen any more pressing. A number of old m 
 were also in distress for their souls ; so that they cou 
 not refrain from weeping and crying aloud ; and the 
 bitter groans were the most convincing as well as¢ 
 fecting evidences of the reality and depth of theiri 
 ward anguish. God is powerfully at work amo 
 them. True and genuine convictions of sin are’ dai 
 promoted in many instances; and some are new 
 awakened from time to time; although some few, wl 
 felt a commotion in their passions in days past, see 
 now to discover that their hearts were never duly ¢ 
 fected. I never saw the work of God appear so ind 
 pendent of means as at this time. I discoursed to fl 
 people, and spake what I suppose had a proper te 
 dency to promote convictions ; but God’s manner 
 working upon them seemed so entirely supernatur: 
 and above means, that I could scarcely believe he us 
 me as an instrument, or what I spake as means of ¢a 
 rying on his work. For it appeared, as I thought, 
 have no connection with or dependence on means’ 
 any respect. Though I could not but continue to u 
 the means, which I thought proper for the promotic 
 of the work, yet God seemed, as I apprehended, | 
 work entirely without them. I seemed to do nothin; 
 
> ? 
 = 
 
 -z 
 1745.) OUTPOURING OF THE SPIRIT. _ 159 
 
 and indeed to have nothing to do, but to ‘ stand still, 
 and see the salvation of God ;? and found myself obliged 
 and delighted to say, ‘ Not unto us,’ not unto instru- 
 ments and means, ‘ but to thy name be glory.’ God ap- 
 beared to work entirely alone, and 1 saw no room to 
 uttribute any part of this work to any created arm. 
 
 | Aug. 17—“ Spent much time in private conferences 
 with the Indians. Found one who had newly obtained 
 ‘elief and comfort, after a long season of spiritual 
 ‘rouble and distress; he having been one of my 
 iearers at the Forks of Delaware for more than a year, 
 ind now having followed me here under deep con- 
 tern for his’soul; and had abundant reason to hope 
 shat his comfort was well grounded, and truly divine. 
 | Lords day, Aug. 18.—“ Preached in the forenoon to 
 i mixed assembly of white people, of divers denomina- 
 ‘ions. Afterward preached to the Indians, from John 
 5: 35-40. There was considerable concern visible 
 tmong them, though not equal to what has frequently 
 ippeared of late. 
 
 | Aug. 19.—“ Preached from Isaiah, 55:1. ‘ Ho every 
 me that thirsteth. Divine truth was attended with 
 dower upon those who had received comfort, and 
 others also. The former sweetly melted and refreshed 
 vith divine invitations ; the latter much concerned for 
 heir souls, that they might obtain an interest in these 
 slorious gospel provisions which were set befure them. 
 There were numbers of poor impotent souls that 
 waited at the pool for healing; and the angel seemed, 
 /is at other times of late, to trouble the waters, so that 
 here was yet a most desirable and comfortable pros- 
 sect of the spiritual recovery of diseased perishing 
 sinners. 
 
 | dug 23.—“ Spent some time with the Indians in pri- 
 
160 _ AIFE.OF BRAINERD. » — Chap. WII 
 
 vate discourse; and afterward preached to them 
 John, 6: 44-50. There was, as has been usual, 
 attention, and some affection among them. 
 appeared deeply concerned for their souls, and 
 not but express their inward anguish by tears and 
 But the amazing divine influence, which has b 
 powerfully among them in general, seems.at pr 
 some degree abated: at least in regard to its u 
 sality ; though many who have obtained ne spe 
 comfort still retain deep impressions of divine thir 
 Aug. 24.—“ Spent the forenoon in discoursi 
 some of the Indians in reference to their publicly 
 fessing Christ. Numbers of them seemed to be 
 with love to God, delighted with the thoughts of givin, 
 themselves up to him, and melted and refreshed wit! 
 the hopes of enjoying the blessed Redeemer. After 
 ward I discoursed publicly from 1 Thess. 4: 13-1] 
 There was a solemn attention, and some visible ¢ 
 cern and affection in the time of public service 
 which was afterward increased by some further exhor 
 tations given to them to come to Christ, and giveu 
 their hearts to him, that they might be fitted to ‘asceni 
 up and meet him in the air, when he shall ‘deseem 
 with ashout, and the voice of the archangel.’ : 
 “There were several Indians newly come, 
 thought their state good, and themselves happy, 
 cause they had sometimes lived with the white 
 under gospel light, had learned to read, were civil, 
 although they appeared utter strangers to their 
 hearts, and altogether unacquainted with the powero 
 religion, as wellas with the doctrines of grace. Witt 
 these I discoursed particularly, after public worship 
 and was surprised to see their self-righteous disposi 
 tion, their strong attachment to the covenant of works 
 
 i 
 
| 
 1745.) OUTPOURING OF THE SPIRIT. 161 
 
 for salvation, and the high value they put upon their 
 supposed attainments. Yet after much discourse, one 
 appeared in a measure convinced that ‘by the deeds of 
 the law no flesh living can be justified ;’ and wept bit- 
 serly, inquiring ‘ what he must do to be saved.’ 
 
 “This was very comfortable to others, who had 
 gained some experimental knowledge of their own 
 nearts; for befure they were grieved with the conver- 
 sation and conduct of these new comers, who boasted 
 of their knowledge, and thought well of themselves, 
 out evidently discovered to those who had any expe- 
 rience of divine truth, that they knew nothing of their 
 pwn hearts. ~ 
 _ Lords day, Aug. 25.—“ Preached in the forenoon 
 from Luke, 15: 3-7. A number of white people being 
 oresent, I made an address to them at the close of my 
 jisecourse to the Indians; but could not so much as 
 xeep 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 
 icarcely go on with my work. 
 
 ' “In the afternoon I discoursed from Rev. 3:20; at 
 which time fifteen Indians made a public profession 
 of their faith. After the crowd of spectators was gone 
 { called them together, and discoursed to them in par- 
 jicular; 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 
 ind dreadful consequences of careless living, espe- 
 vially after their publie profession of Christianity; 
 zave them directions for future conduct; and encou- 
 ‘aged them to watchfulness and devotion, by setting 
 { B 14* 
 
162 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. : 
 
 before them the comfort and happy conclusivn o J 
 religious life. ‘ 
 
 “This was a desirable and sweet season ind EE 
 Their hearts were engaged and cheerful in duty ; | 
 they rejoiced that they had, in a public and solen 
 manner, dedicated themselves to God. Love seen 
 toreign among them! They took each other by theh 
 with tenderness and affection, as if their hearts y 
 knit together, while I was discoursing to them; 
 all their deportment toward each other was such, t 
 a serious spectator might justly be excited to ery 
 with admiration, ‘Behold how they love one ano 
 Numbers of the other Indians, on seeing and hee 
 these things, were much affected, and wept bitter 
 longing to be partakers of the same joy and com 
 which these discovered by their very countenances 
 ~ well as conduct. 
 
 Aug. 26. =ieaalal to my people from John 
 51-55. After I had discoursed some time, I addres 
 them in particular who entertained hopes that tl 
 were passed from death unto life. Opened to them n 
 persevering nature of those consolations which Ch 
 gives his people, and which I trusted he had besto 
 upon some in that assembly ; showed them that s 
 have already the beginnings of eternal life, and 
 their heaven shall speedily be completed. 
 
 “Ino sooner began to discourse in this strain t] 
 the dear Christians in,the congregation began te 
 melted with affection to, and desire of the enjoymen 
 of Christ, and of a state of perfect purity. They w ; 
 affectionately, yet joyfully; and their tears and sok 
 discovered brokenness of heart, and yet were atten 
 with real comfort and sweetness. It was a tender, al 
 fectionate, humble and delightful meeting, and ay 
 
1745.) = OUTPOURING OF THE spiRIT. 163 
 
 reared to be the genuine effect of a spirit of adoption, 
 ind very far from that spirit of bondage under which 
 hey not long since labored. The influence seemed 
 ‘0 spread from these through the whole assembly; 
 nd there quickly appeared a wonderful concern 
 mong them. Many, who had not yet found Christasan 
 I-sufficient Savior, were surprisingly engaged in seek- 
 ag after him. It was indeed a lovely and very inte- 
 esting assembly. Their number was now about 
 inety-fice persons, old and young, and almost all af- 
 zeted with joy-in Christ Jesus, or with the utmost 
 oncern to obtain an interest in him. 
 | “Being now convinced that it was my duty to take 
 journey far back to the Indians on the Susquehanna, 
 _ being now a proper season of the year to find them 
 enerally at home; after having spent some hours in 
 ublic and private discourse with my people, I told » 
 hem that I must now leave them for the present, and 
 © to their brethren far remote, and preach to them ; 
 iat I wanted the Spirit of God. should go with me, 
 ‘ithout whom nothing could be done to any good pur- 
 bse among the Indians—as they themselves had op- 
 ortunity to see and observe by the barrenness of our 
 ‘eetings at some times, when there was much pains 
 ‘ken to affect and awaken sinners, and yet to little or 
 9 purpose;and asked them if they could not be wil- 
 ag to spend the remainder of the day in prayer for 
 e, that God would go with me, and succeed my en- 
 2avors for the conversion of these poor souls. They 
 aeerfully complied with the motion, and soon after I 
 ‘ft them, the sun being about an hour and a half high, 
 ley bewan and continued praying till break of deeyn or 
 ery near ; never mistrusting, as they tell me, till they 
 ‘ent out and viewed the stars, and saw the morning 
 
164 LIFE OF BRAINERD, | adi 
 
 star a considerable height, that it was later tha 
 time. Thus eager and unwearied were they in the 
 devotions! A remarkable night it was; attended, as m 
 Interpreter tells me, with a powerful influence uj 
 
 those who were yet under concern, as well as 
 who had received comfort. There were, I trust, 
 day, two distressed souls brought to the enjoymen 
 solid comfort in Him in whom the weary find rest. 
 was likewise remarkable, that this day an old Ind 
 who had all his days been an idolater, was brough 
 give up his rattles, which they use for music in t) 
 idolatrous feasts and dances, to the an Indiats, 
 
 quickly destroyed them. This was done without 
 interference of mine, I having not spoken to him abot 
 it, so that it seemed to be nothing but the powe 
 God’s word, without any particular application to 
 sin, that produced this effect. Thus God has beg 
 thus he has hitherto surprisingly carried on a worl 
 grace among these Indi _ May the glory oe ascri 
 to Him who is the sole author of it.” 
 
 Forks of Delaware, in Pennsylvania, Sept. 174 
 
 Lord’s day, Sept. 1—“Preached to the Indians f 
 Luke, 11: 16-23. The word appeared to be atten 
 with some power, and caused some tears in the ass 
 bly. Afterward preached to a number of white 
 ple present, and observed many of them in tears; 
 some who had formerly been as careless and une 
 cerned about religion, perhaps, as the Indians. 
 ward night discoursed to the Indians again, and p 
 ceived a greater attention, and more visible con 
 among them than has been usual in these parts. 
 
 Sept. 3,—“Preached to the Indians from Isaiah, 5: 
 3+. The Divine presence seemed to be in the mid 
 
745.) | sa FORKS OF DELAWARE. 163" 
 
 f the assembly, and a considerable concern spread 
 mong them. ‘Sundry persons seemed to be awakened ; 
 ong whom were two stupid creatures, whom I could 
 eo ever before keep awake while I was discoursing 
 them. Icould not but rejoice at this appearance of 
 tings; although at the same time I could not but fear, 
 st the concern which they at present manifested 
 ‘ight prove like a morning cloud, as something of that 
 ad formerly done in thiese parts. 
 . 5.—“ Discoursed to the Indians from the para- 
 ‘ofthe sower. Afterward I conversed particularly 
 ith a number 2 persons ; which occasioned them to 
 eep, and even to cry out in an affecting manner, and 
 ‘ized others with surprise and concern. I doubt not 
 paces a divine power accompanied what was then 
 ken. Several of these persons had been with me 
 ) Crossweeksung, and there had seen, and some of 
 ‘em, I trust felt, the power of God’s word in an affect- 
 g and saving manner. l asked one of them, who 
 idobtained comfort, and given hopeful evidence of 
 ting truly religious, ‘ Why he now cried? He re- 
 teas ‘ When he thought how Christ was slain like a 
 b, and spilt his blood for sinners, he could not help 
 ing when he was alone;’- and thereupon burst into 
 and cried again. I then asked his wife, who had 
 ewise been abundantly comforted, why she cried? 
 e answered, ‘ that she was grieved that the Indians 
 tre would not come to Christ, as weil as those at 
 ‘rossweeksung, I asked her if she found a heart to 
 ied for them, and whether Christ had seemed 7o be 
 tar her of late in prayer, as in times past, which is 
 ‘y usual method of expressing a sense of the divine 
 tesence. She replied, ‘ Yes, he had been near to her, 
 ad at times when she had been praying alone, her 
 
 | 
 / 
 
 | 
 
_any concern for his soul. There appeared a re: 
 
 re 
 
 166 LIFE OF BRAINERD. . [Ch 
 
 heart loved to pray so that she could not bear'to 
 lace, but wanted to stay and pray longer? 
 
 d’s day, Sept. 8.—* Diseoursed to the India 
 
 tiie afternoon from Acts, 2: 36-39. The word of 
 at this time seemed to fall with weight and influ 
 upon them. There were but few present; but 7 
 that. were, were in tears, and several cried out in 
 tressing concern for their souls. There was one} 
 bevel awakened, who never before discov 
 
 * 
 
 ble work of the Divine Spirit among them gene 
 not unlike what has been of late _Crossweeks 
 It seemed as if the divine influence had spread tk 
 to this place, although somethi it. appeared ( 
 before in the awakening of my interpreteryhis 
 and some few others. Several of the careless ¥ 
 people now present were awakened, or at least sta! 
 seeing the power of God so prevalent among the 
 dians. I then madea — address to them, v 
 seemed to make some impression upon them, and 
 cite some affection in, the 
 “ There are some Indians in these parts who 
 always refused to hear me preach, and have bee! 
 raged against those who have attended on my pré 
 ing. But of late they are more bitter than eé 
 scoffing at christianity, and sometimes asking 
 hearers ‘ How often they have cried,’ and ‘ whi 
 they have not now cried enough to ao. their turn " 
 ‘So that they have already trial of cruel mockings, 
 Sept. 9.—“ Left the Indians at the Forks of 
 ware, and set out on a journey ll Susqueha 
 river, directing my course toward the Indian t 
 more than an hundred and twenty miles westy 
 from the Forks. ‘Traveled about fifteen miles, 
 there lodged. 
 
‘ 
 \J 
 745.) . ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 167 
 
 ie, Shaumoking, Sept. 1745. 
 Sept. “= After having lodged out three nights, 
 rrived at the Indian town I aimed at, on the Susque- 
 anna, called Shaumoking ; one of the places, and the 
 of them, which I visited in May last. I was 
 a cccives, and entertained by the Indians ; but 
 ad little satisfaction by reason of the heathenish 
 ice and revel they then held in the house where I 
 as obliged to lodge; which I could not suppress, 
 ough I often entreated them to desist, for the sake 
 ‘one of their own friends, who was then sick in the 
 buse, and whose disorder was much aggravated by 
 le noise, Al how destitute of natural affection 
 fe these poor eas ivated pagans! although they 
 ‘em somewhat kind in their own way. Of a truth 
 © dark corners of the earth are full of the habitations 
 ‘cruelty. This town, as I observed in my Diary of 
 ‘ry last, lies partly on the east side of the river, partly 
 ) the west, and partly on a large island in it, and 
 atains upward of fifty houses, and nearly three 
 indred persons, though I never saw much more than 
 jf that number in it. They are of three different 
 pes of Indians, speaking three langtaees wholly un- 
 lligible to each other. About one half of its in 
 itants are Delawares, the others called Senekas 
 i! Tutelas. The Indians of this place are accounted 
 /most drunken, mischievous, and ruffianlike fellows. 
 ny in these parts; and Satan seems to have his Seat 
 his town in atl eminent manner. sd 
 jept. 14.—“ Visited the Delaware King, who was 
 ‘posed to be at the point of death when I was here 
 May last, but was now recovered ; discoursed with 
 | and others respecting christianity ; spent the after- 
 (n with them. and had more encouragement than I 
 
bal 
 
 168 LIFE OF BRAINERD. {Chap 
 
 expected. The king appeared kindly disposed, ¢ 
 willing to be instructed. This gave me some 
 ragement that God would open an effectual 
 my preaching the Gospel here, and set up his ki 
 in this place. This was a support and refres 
 me in the wilderness, and rendered my —_ 
 
 gai comfortable and pleasant. , 
 
 rd’s day, Sept. 15.—“ Visited the chief 
 
 Delawares again; was kindly received by hit 
 discoursed to the Indians in the afternoon. 
 tertained hopes that God would open their heat 
 receive the Gospel, though many of them in the = 
 
 were so drunk from day to day that I could 
 opportunity to speak to them. Toward nig 
 coursed with one who understood the languages 
 Six Nations, as they are usually called, who di 
 an inclination to hearken to christianity, which 
 me some hope that the Gospel might hereafter | 
 to those nations far remote. — 
 Sept. 16.— Spent the forenoon with the India 
 endeavoring to instruct them from house to house; 
 to engage them, as far as I could, to be friendl} 
 christianity. ‘Toward night went to one part of 
 town where they were sober, got together near fi 
 of them, and discoursed to them, having first obtal 
 the king’s cheerful consent. There was a surpris 
 attention among them, and they manifested a consi 
 ble desire of being further instructed. There were 
 one or two that seemed to be touched with some e 
 cern for their souls, who appeared well pleased ¥ 
 some conversation in private after I had concluded 
 public discourse to them. + 
 “ My spirits were much refreshed with this appé 
 ance of things, and I could not but return —_ 
 
1745.) ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 169 
 
 jmterpreter, having no other companion in this jour- 
 ney to my poor hard lodgings, rejoicing in hopes that 
 (God designed to set up his kingdom here, where satan 
 how reigns in the most eminent manner; and found 
 uncommon freedom in addressing the throne of grace 
 ‘or the accomplishment of so great and glorious a work. 
 | Sept. 17.—* Spent the forenoon in visiting and dis- 
 ‘oursing to the Indians. About noon left Shaumoking. 
 |most of the Indians going out this day on their hunting 
 lesign) and traveled down the river a ae 
 
 Ganpitile, Sept. 1745. 
 
 | Sept. 19.—* Visited an Indian town, called Juncauta, 
 ‘itmate on an island in the Susquhisenitn: Was much 
 \iseouraged with the temper and behavior of the In- 
 lians heres; although they appeared friendly when I 
 vas with them the last spring, and then gave me en- 
 ‘ouragement to come and see them again. But they 
 iow seemed resolved to retain their pagan notions, and 
 yersist in their idolatrous practices. 
 | September 20.— Visited the Indians again at Jun- 
 auta island, and found them almost universally very 
 ‘usy in making preparations for a great sacrifice and 
 ance. Had no opportunity to get them together, in 
 irder to discourse with them about Christianity, by 
 
 ason of their being so much engaged about their sa- 
 
 ifice. My spirits were much sunk with a prospect 
 0 very discouraging ; and especially seeing I had this 
 ay no interpreter but a pagan, who was as much at- 
 ached to idolatry as any of them, and who could 
 ‘either speak nor understand the language of these 
 indians ; so that I was under the greatest disadvantages 
 maginable. However, I attempted to discourse pri- 
 
 ately with some of them, but without any appearance 
 15 Brainerd. 
 
170 LIFE OF BRAINERD. {Chap. Vil 
 
 of success: notwithstanding I still tarried with th mn 
 “In the evening they met together, nearly a hu 
 dred of them, and danced around a large fire, ha 
 prepared ten fat deer for the sacrifice. The fat of 
 inwards they burnt in the fire while they were dancing 
 which sometimes raised the flame to a prodigior 
 height; at the same time yelling and shouting in sue 
 a manner that they might easily have been heard ¢ 
 “miles or more. They continued their sacred da 
 nearly all night, after which they ate the flesh of 
 sacrifice, and so retired each one to his own lodging 
 “T enjoyed little satisfaction ; being entirely alon 
 on the island, as to any Christian company, and in th 
 midst of this idolatrous revel; and having walked { 
 and fro till body and mind were pained and much 
 pressed, I at length crept into a little crib made fo 
 _ corn, and there slept on the poles. , 
 Lords day, Sept. 21.—“ Spent the day with the Iz 
 dians on the island. As soon as they were well upi 
 the morning I attempted to instruct them, and labore; 
 for that purpose to get them together; but soon fo 
 they hal something else to do, for near noon the 
 gathered together all their powaws, or conjurers, 
 set dbout half a dozen of them playing their jugglin 
 tricks, and acting their frantic distracted postures, i 
 order to find out why. they were then so sickly upo 
 the island, numbers of them being at that time dis 
 dered with a fever and bloody flux. In this exer 
 they were engaged for several hours, making all 
 wild, ridiculous and “distracted motions imaginable 
 sometimes singing, sometimes howling, sometimes ex 
 vending their hands to the utmost stretch, and spread 
 ing all their fingers ; they seemed to push with ther 
 as if they designed to push something away, or at leas 
 
745.) POWAWS. 171 
 
 eep it off at arm’s-end ; sometimes stroking their faces 
 ‘ith their hands, then spurting water as fine as mist; 
 »metimes sitting flat on the earth, then bowing down 
 heir faces to the ground ; then wringing their sides as 
 ‘in pain and anguish, twisting their faces, turning up 
 ieir eyes, grunting, puffing, &c. 
 Their monstrous actions tended to excite ideas of 
 lorror, and seemed to have something in them, as I 
 ought, peculiarly suited to raise the devil, if he could 
 e raised by any thing odd, ridiculous, and frightful. 
 ‘ome of them, I could observe, were much more fer- 
 ent and devout in the business than others, and seemed 
 > chant, peep, and mutter with a great degree of 
 varmth and vigor, as if determined to awaken and en- 
 lage the powers below. I sat at a small distance, not 
 ore than thirty feet from them, though undiscovered, 
 vith my Bible in my hand, resolving, if possible, to 
 poil their sport, and prevent their receiving any an- 
 avers from the infernal world, and there viewed the 
 thole scene. They continued their hideous charms 
 ind incantations for more than three hours, until they 
 ad all wearied themselves out; although they had in 
 nat space of time taken several intervals of rest ; and 
 't length broke up, I apprehended, without receiving 
 y answer at all. , . 
 | “ After they had done powawing, I attempted to dis- 
 urse with them about Christianity ; but they soon 
 tered, and gave me no opportunity for any thing. 
 {that nature. A view of these things, while I was en- 
 irely alone in the wilderness, destitute of the society 
 if any one who so much as ‘named the name of ‘Christ, 
 treatly sunk my spirits, and gave me the most gloomy 
 urn of mind imaginable, almost stripped me of all re- 
 olution and hope respecting further attempts for pro- 
 
172 LIFE OF BRAINERD. Chap. 
 
 pagating the Gospel and converting the pagans, al 
 rendered this the most burdensome and disagree 
 Sabbath which I ever saw. But nothing, I can 
 say, sunk and distressed me like the loss of my 
 respecting their conversion. This concern appeal 
 so great, and seemed to-be so much my own, 
 seemed to have nothing to do on earth if this fai 
 A prospect of the greatest success in the saving ca 
 version of souls under Gospel light; would have 4 
 little or nothing toward compensating for the los 
 my hope in this respect ; and spirits now were 
 damped and depressed, that I had no heart nor pe 
 to make any further attempts among them for ‘ 
 purpose, and could not possibly recover my hope 
 solution, and courage, by the utmost of my endeay 
 “The Indians of this island can, many of them, 1 
 derstand the English language considerably well ; hi 
 ing formerly lived in some part of Maryland, ame 
 or near the white people ; but are very drunken, vieic 
 and profane, although not-so savage as those who h 
 less acquaintance with the English. Their custor 
 in various respects, differ from those of the other! 
 dians upon this river. They do not bury their 
 in acommon form, but let their flesh consuine abt 
 the ground, in close cribs made for that purpose. , 
 the end of a year, or sometimes a longer space of tin 
 they take the bones, when the flesh is all consume 
 and wash and scrape them and afterward bury then 
 with some ceremony. Their method of charmin 
 conjuring over the sick, seems somewhat different fror 
 that of the other Indians, though in substance the sa 
 The whole of it among these and others, perhaps, 
 an imitation of what seems, by Naaman’s expression 
 2 Kings, 5: 11, tc have been the custom of the ancien! 
 
745.) "A CONJURER. 173 
 
 eathen. Itseems chiefly to consist in their ‘ striking 
 heir hands over the discased,’ repeatedly stroking 
 iem, ‘and calling upon their god ;? except the spurt- 
 1g of water like a mist, and some other frantic cere- 
 sonies common to the other 28 pagal which I have 
 ready mentioned. 
 “When I was in this region in May last I had an 
 opportunity of learning many of the notions and cus-. 
 yms of the Indians, as well as observing many of their 
 ractices. I then traveled more than an hundred and 
 iirty milés upon the river, above the English settle- 
 ents; and in that journey met with individuals of 
 even or eight distinct tribes, speaking as many differ- 
 at languages. But of all the sights I ever saw among 
 aem, or indeed any where else, none appeared so 
 tightful, or so near a kin to what is usually imagined 
 f infernal powers, none ever excited such images of 
 ‘rror in my mind, as the appearance of one who was 
 ‘devout and zealous reformer, or rather restorer of 
 that he supposed was the ancient religion of the In- 
 jians. He made his appearance in his pontifical garb, 
 thich was a coat of bear skins, dressed with the hair 
 n, and hanging down to his toes; a pair of bear skin 
 ockings; and a great wooden face painted, the one 
 ta black, the other half tawny, about the color of an 
 hdian’s skin, with an extravagant mouth, cut very 
 much awry ; the face fastened to a bear skin cap, which 
 tas drawn over his head. He advanced toward me 
 ‘ith the instrument in his hand which he used for 
 rusic in his idolatrous worship ; which was a dry tor- 
 ise shell with some corn in it, and the neck of it 
 awn on to a-piece of wood, which made a very con- 
 lenient handle. As he came forward-he beat his tune 
 
 vith the rattle, and danced with all his might, but-did 
 
 B 15* 
 | 
 
Dia Ne 5 
 
 i LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. ¥ 
 
 not suffer any part of his body, not so much ashi 
 fingers, to be seen. No one would have imagin 
 from his appearance or actions, that he could 
 been a human creature, if they had not had som 
 timation of it otherwise. When he came near me 
 could not but shrink away from him, although it} 
 then noon day, and I knew who it was ; his appearam 
 and gestures were so prodigiously frightful. E 
 a house consecrated to religious uses, with diy 
 images cut upon the several parts of it. I went in,| 
 found the ground beat almost as hard as a rock, ’ 
 their frequent dancing upon it. I discoursed with] 
 about Christianity. Some of my discourse he see 
 to like, but some of it he disliked extremely. He to 
 me that God had taught him his religion, and th 
 never would turn from it; but wanted to find som 
 who would join heartily with him in it ; for the Indi 
 he said, were grown very degenerate and corrupt. H 
 had thoughts, he said, of leaving all his friends 
 traveling abroad, in order to find some who w 
 join with him; for he believed that God had som 
 good people some where, who felt as he did. He ha 
 not always, he said, felt as he now did ; but had forme 
 ly been like the rest of the Indians, until about four 
 five years before that time. Then, he said, his hea 
 was very much distressed, so that he could not li 
 among the Indians, but got away into the woods, 
 lived alone for some months. At length, he said, Ge 
 comforted his heart, and showed him what he show 
 do; and since that time he had known God, and tr. 
 to serve him; and loved all men, be they "who the 
 would, so as he never did before. He treated‘me wit 
 uncommon courtesy, and seemed to be hearty in it, 
 was told by the Indians, that he opposed their drinl 
 
¥ 
 
 745.) A CONSURER. ; 175 
 
 ag strong liquor with all his power ; aisd that, if at any 
 ime he could not dissuade.them from it by all he could 
 vy, he would leave them, and go crying into the woods. 
 , was manifest that he had a set of religious noticns 
 hich he had examined for himself, and not taken for 
 ranted upon bare tradition ; and he relished or disre- 
 shed whatever was spoken of a religious nature, as it 
 ther agreed or disagreed with his standard. While 
 was discoursing, he would sometimes say, ‘ Now that 
 like ;.so God has taught me;’ &c. and some of his 
 sntiments seemed very just. Yet he utterly denied 
 ie existence of a devil, and declared there was no 
 ich creature known among the Indians of old times, 
 shose religion he supposed he was attempting to re- 
 ve. He likewise told me, that departed souls went 
 juthward, and that the difference between the good 
 id the bad was this: that the former were admitted 
 ito a beautiful town with spiritual walls; and that the 
 ‘tter would for ever hover around these walls, in,vain 
 ‘tempts to get in. He seemed to be sincere, honest, 
 ad conscientious in his own way, and according to his 
 wn religious notions; which was more than I ever 
 \win any other Pagan. I perceived that he was 
 co upon and derided among most of the Indians, 
 a precise zealot, who made a needless noise about 
 tous matters ; but I must say that there was some- 
 ‘ing in his donrpor and disposition which looked more 
 xe true religion than any thing I ever observed 
 mong other heathens. 
 \“ Butalas ! how deplorable is the state of the Indians 
 pon this river! The brief representation which 1 
 ave here given of their notions and manners, is suffi- 
 ent to show that they are ‘led captive by Satan at his 
 ll,’ in the most eminent manner; and methinks 
 
176 LIFE OF BRAINERD. a 
 
 might likewise be sufficient to excite the compassi 
 and engage the prayers, of God’s children for t 
 their fellow-men, who sit ‘in the regions of the sha¢ 
 of death.’ 
 Sept. 22.—“ Made some further attempts to instrue 
 and Christianize the Indians on this Island, but al 
 no purpose. They live so near the white people 
 they are always in the way of strong liquor, as wel 
 of the ill examples of nominal Christians; whi 
 renders it so unspeakably difficult to treat with th 
 about Christianity.” 
 
 Forks of Delaware, Oct. 1745 
 
 Oct. 1.—“ Discoursed to the Indians here, and sp 
 some time in private conference with them about tl 
 souls’ concerns, and afterward invited them to acco 
 pany, or if not, to follow me to Crossweeksung 
 _ soon as they could conveniently; which invita’ 
 numbers of them cheerfully accepted.” 
 
 Crossweeksung, Oct. 17: 
 
 Oct. 5.—“ Preached to my people from John, 
 1-6. The divine presence seemed to be in the assen 
 bly. Numbers were affected with divine truth, am 
 was a comfort to some in particular. O what a 
 ference is there between these, and the Indians y 
 whom I had lately treated upon the Susquehan 
 To be with those seemed to be like being banis 
 from God and all his people; to be with these, like I 
 ing admitted into his family, and to the enjoyme 
 of his divine presence! How great is the chang 
 lately made upon numbers of those Indians ; who, \ 
 many months ago, were as thoughtless atid averse 
 Christianity as those upon the Susquehanna ; and 
 
(745. ] AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 177 
 
 stonishing is that grace which has made this change! 
 | Lords day, Oct. 6.—‘Preached in the forenoon from 
 shn, 10: 7-11. There was a considerable melting 
 mong my people; the dear young Christians were 
 wfreshed, comforted and strengthened; and one or 
 vo persons newly awakened. In the afternoon I dis- 
 oursed on the story of the Jailor, Acts, 16; and in the 
 vening expounded Acts, 20: 1-12. There was at this 
 me a very agreeable melting spread throughout the 
 hole assembly. I think I scarce ever saw a more de- 
 cable affection among any people. There was scarcely 
 ‘dry eye to be seen among them; and yet nothing 
 isterous or unseemly, nothing that tended to disturb 
 ie public worship; but rather to encourage and ex- 
 ce a Christian ardor and spirit of devotion. Those 
 no I have reason to hope were savingly renewed 
 wre first affected, and seemed to rejoice much, but 
 ith brokenness of spirit and godly fear. Their ex- 
 tises were much the same with those mentioned in 
 iy journal of August 26, evidently appearing to be 
 2 genuine effects of a spirit of adoption. 
 
 After public service was over I withdrew, being 
 es tired with the labors of the day ; and the Indians 
 ‘tinued praying among themselves for near two 
 rs together; which continued exercises appeared 
 ibe attended with a blessed quickening influence from 
 »high. I could not but earnestly wish that numbers 
 ) God’s people had been present at this season to see 
 | hear these things which I am sure must refresh 
 | heart of every true lover of Zion. To see those 
 0 were very lately savage gans and idolaters, 
 ying no hope, and without G6d in the world, now 
 2d with a sense of divine love and grace, and wor- 
 Ipping the Father in spirit and in truth, as numbers 
 | 
 
 | . 
 
> | 
 178 LIFE OF BRAINERD. Lenape 
 
 here appeared to do, was not a little affecting; a 
 especially to see them appear so tender and humbl 
 as well as lively, fervent, and devout in the dij 
 service. * 
 Oct. 24.—“ Discoursed from John, 4 : 13, 14. Th 
 was a great attention, a desirable affection, and an una 
 fected melting in the assembly. It is surprisil 
 see how eager they are to hear the word of Go 
 often times thought that they would cheerfully a 
 diligently attend divine worship twenty-four h 
 together, if they had an opportunity so to do. 
 Oct. 25.—“Discoursed to my people respecting 
 Resurrection, from Luke, 20 : 27-36. When I 
 to mention the blessedness the godly shall enjoy at 
 season; their final freedom from death, sin and s0 
 row; their equality to the angels in their uearness| 
 and enjoyment of Christ, some imperfect de 
 which they are favored with in the present life, f 
 whence springs their sweetest comfort; and their be 
 the children of God, openly acknowledged by him 
 such; many of them were much affected and m 
 with a view of this blessed state. 
 Oct. 26.—“ Being called to assist in the administt 
 tion of the Lord’s supper in a neighboring congreg 
 tion, I invited my people to go with me. They in gen 
 yal embraced the opportunity cheerfully ; and atten 
 the several discourses of this solemnity with diligen 
 and affection, most of them now understanding som 
 thing of the English language. 
 Lord’s day, Oct. 27.—“ While I was preaching to 
 vast assembly of people abroad, who appeared general 
 easy and secure, there was one Indian woman, a stra 
 ger, who never had heard me preach before, nor @} 
 regarded any thing about religion, who, having be 
 
'45.} AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 179 
 
 pw persuaded by some of her friends to come to 
 jeeting, though much against her will, was seized with 
 «stressing concern for hersoul; andsoon after expiess- 
 (a great desire of going home, more than forty miles 
 «stant, to call her husband, that he also might be 
 vakened to a concern for his soul. Some others of 
 fe Indians appeared to be affected with divine truth 
 (is day. The pious people of the English, numbers 
 « whom I had opportunity to converse with, seemed 
 ifreshed with seeing the Indians worship God in that 
 (vout and solemn manner with the assembly of his 
 ople; and with those mentioned in Acts, 11:18, they 
 culd not but glorify God, saying, ‘Then hath God also 
 tthe Gentiles granted repentance unto life.’ 
 “Preached again in the afternoon, to a great assem- 
 ly; at which time some of my people appeared affect- 
 ¢; and when public worship was over, were inquisi- 
 tie whether there would not be another sermon in the 
 cening, or before the solemnity of the Lord’s supper 
 us concluded ; being still desirous to hear God’s word. 
 \Oct. 28.— Discoursed from Matt. 22:1-13. Iwas 
 cabled to open the scriptures, and adapt my discourse 
 ed expression to the capacities of my people, J know 
 't how, in a plain, easy, and familiar manner, beyond 
 7 that I could have done by the utmost study; and 
 without any special difficulty ; yea, with as much 
 pom as if I had been addressing a common audi- 
 e, who had been instructed in the doctrines of chris- 
 tnity all their days. The word of God at this time 
 e-med to fall upon the assembly with a divine power 
 ed influence, especially toward the close of my dis- 
 curse; there was both a sweet melting and bitter 
 rourning in the audience. The dear christians were 
 rreshed and comforted, convictions revived in others, 
 
 ¢ 
 
180 LIFE OP BRAINERD. oll 
 
 and several pers¢ wly awakened whovhad | 
 been with us before. So much of the divine pr 
 appeared in the assembly, that it seemed ‘this w 
 ‘other than the house of God and the gate of he; 
 All, who had any savor and relish of divine thi 
 were even constrained by the sweetness of that s 
 to say, ‘Lord, it is good for us tobe here.” If 
 there was among my people an appearance of th 
 Jerusalem ‘as a bride adorned for her husband,’ 
 was much of it at this time; and so agreeable w 
 entertainment, where such tokens of the divin 
 sence were, that I could scareely be willing in the 
 ning to leave the place and repair to my lodgin 
 was refreshed with a view of the continuance 0: 
 blessed work of grace among them, and with its 
 ence upon strangers among the Indians, who f 
 late from time to time providentially come inte 
 part of the country. 
 Lord’s day, Nov. 3.—Preached to my people 
 Luke 16:17. ‘And it is easier for heaven and 
 &c. more especially for the sake of several ] 
 brought under deep concern for their souls. 1 
 was some apparent concern and affection in the a 
 bly ; though far less than has been usual of late, 
 “On this day siz of the Indians made a profe 
 of their faith. One of these was a woman near 
 score years of age. Twoof the others were mei 
 years old, who had been singular and remar 
 among the Indians for their wickedness; one of 
 had been a murderer, and both notorious drun 
 well as excessively quarrelsome ; but now I canno! 
 hope that both of them have become subjects of @ 
 special grace. I kept them back for many weeks 4 
 they had given evidence of having passed a g 
 
745. A ; 
 tii that I might have more opportunities to ob- 
 erve the fruits of the impressions which they had been 
 der, and apprehended the way was now clear to ad- 
 lit them to the ordinances. eB 
 
 | Nov. 4.—Discoursed from John 11, briefly explain- 
 ig most of the chapter. Divine truth made deep im- 
 fessions upon many in the assembly. Numbers were 
 fected with a view of the power of Christ manifested 
 his raising the dead; and especially when this in- 
 ance of his power was improved to show his ability 
 raise dead souls, such as many of them felt them- 
 Ives to be, to a spiritual life; as also to raise the dead 
 the last day, and dispense to them rewards and 
 nishments. 
 
 “There were numbers of those who had come here 
 ely from remote places, who were now brought un- 
 r deep and pressing concern for their souls. One in 
 rhcular, who not long since came half drunk, and 
 led on us, and attempted by all means to disturb us 
 ile engaged in divine worship, was now so con- 
 x and distressed for her soul, that she seemed un- 
 
 AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 181 
 
 e to get any ease without an interest in Christ. 
 ere were many tears and affectionate sobs and groans 
 the assembly in general; some weeping for them- 
 ves; others for their friends. Although persons are 
 btless much more easily affected now than they\ 
 re in the beginning of this religious concern, when 
 rs and cries for their souls were things unheard of 
 ong them; yet I must say that their affection in gen- 
 
 cs genuine and unfeigned; and especially 
 
 appeared very: conspicuous in those newly awaken- 
 So that true and genuine convictions of sin seem 
 1 to be begun and promoted in many instances. 
 
 wenty three of the Indians in all have now pre- 
 | 16 Brainerd. 
 
182 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Cha 
 
 {essed their faith in Christ. Most of them belonged 
 this region, a few to the Forks of Delaware.—Threo 
 rich grace, none of them as yet have been left to 
 grace their profession by any scandalous or unbee 
 ing behavior. 
 
 “T might now properly make many REMARKS) 
 work of grace so very remarkabie as this has bee 
 various respects; but shall confine myself to a few, 
 eral hints only. 
 
 1. “It is remarkable that God began this ¥ 
 among the Indians ata time when I had the least 
 and, to my apprehension, the least rational prospe 
 seeing a work of grace propagated among them: 
 bodily strength being then much wasted by a la’ 
 dious journey to the Susquehanna, where I was ne¢ 
 sarily exposed to hardships and fatigues among the 
 dians; my mind being also exceedingly depressed 
 a view of the unsuccessfulness of my labors. I 
 little reason so much as to hope that God had 
 me instrumental in the saving conversion of an 
 the Indians, except my Interpreter and his 
 Hence I was ready to look upon myeelf as a burdi 
 the Society which employed and supported me in 
 business, and began to entertain serious though 
 giving up my mission; and almost resolved I w 
 do so at the conclusion of the present year, if I 
 then no better prospect of success in my work h 
 nad hitherto had. I cannot say that I entertained 
 thoughts because I was weary of the labors and 
 
 tigues which necessarily attended my present busin 
 or because I had light and freedom in my own! 
 to turn any other way; but purely through deje 
 of spirit, pressing discouragement, and an appreli 
 
, os 
 745.] «§ «=CHARACTER OF THE REVIVAL. 183 
 _ 
 
 ion of its being unjust to spend money consecrated to 
 eligious uses, only to civilize the Indians, and bring 
 aem to an external profession of Christianity. This 
 yas all which I could then see any prospect of effect- 
 1g, while God seemed, as I thought, evidently to 
 ‘own upon the design of their saving conversion, by 
 ‘ithholding the convincing and renewing influences 
 f his blessed Spirit from attending the means which 
 had hitherto used with them for that end. 
 | “In this frame of mind I first visited these Indians 
 ; Crossweeksung ; apprehending that it was my in- 
 \Spensable duty, seeing I had heard there was a num- 
 er in these parts, to make some attempts for their con- 
 es to God, though I cannot say I had any hope of 
 recess, my spirits being now so extremely sunk. I 
 ? not know that my hopes respecting the conversion 
 ‘the Indians were ever reduced to so low an ebb, 
 nee I had any special concern for them, as at fe 
 me. Yet this was the very season in which God saw 
 | to begin this glorious work! Thus he ‘ordained 
 rength out of weakness,’ by making bare his almighty 
 at a time when all hopes and human probabilities 
 fost evidently appeared to fail— Whence I learn, that 
 is good to follow the path of duty, though in the midst 
 darkness and discouragement. 
 2. “It is remarkable how God providentially, and 
 a manner almost wnaccountable, called these Indians 
 a to be instructed in the great things that con- 
 rned their souls: and how he seized their minds 
 Kth the most solemn and weighty concern for their 
 an salvation, as fast as they came to the place 
 ere his word was preached. WhenI first came into 
 tese parts in June, I found not one man at the place 
 bisited, but only four women and a few children; but 
 
184 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. | 
 
 before I had been here matty days, they gathered f 
 all quarters, some from e than twenty miles; 
 when I made them a second visit in the beginning 
 August, some came more than forty miles to hea 
 Many came without any intelligence of what w 
 ing on here, and consequently without any desig 
 theirs, so much as to gratify their curiosity. Th 
 seemed as if God had summoned them together f 
 all quarters for nothing else but to deliver his mess 
 to them; and that he did this, with regard to son 
 them, without making use of any human mea 
 though there was pains taken by some of them to 
 notice to others at remote places. 
 
 “Nor is it less surprising that they were one 
 another affected with a solemn concern for their s¢ 
 almost as soon as they came upon the spot whe 
 vine truths were taught them. I could not butt 
 often, that their coming to the place of our publie 
 ship, was like Saul and his messengers coming amr 
 the prophets; they no sooner came but they prophes 
 and these were almost as soon affected with a sen 
 their sin and misery, and with an earnest concein 
 deliverance, as they made their appearance in our 
 sembly. After this work of grace began with pc 
 among them, it was common for strangers of the 
 dians, before they had been with us one day, to be m 
 awakened, deeply convinced of their sin and mis 
 and to inquire with great solicitude, ‘ What they sh 
 do to be saved ?’ a 
 
 8. “It is likewise remarkable how God presel 
 these poor ignorant Indians from being prejuc 
 against me, and the truths I taught them, by th 
 means that were used with them for that purpose 
 ungodly people. There were many attempts made b 
 
| 
 745.) CHARACTER OF THE REVIVAL. 185 
 
 ome ill-minded persons of the white people to preju- 
 ice them against, or frighten them from Christianity. 
 ‘hey sometimes told them, that the Indians were well 
 iough already ;—that there was no need of all this 
 rise about Christianity ;—that if they were Christians 
 ey would be in no better, no safer, or happier State, 
 an they were already in. Sometimes they told them, 
 at I was a knave, a deceiver, and the like; that I daily 
 ught them lies, and had no other design but to im- 
 yse upon them. When none of these, and such like 
 ‘ggestions, would avail to their purpose, they then 
 fed another expedient, and told the Indians, ‘My de- 
 ‘7m was to gather together as large a body of them as 
 tem could, and sell fhem to England for slaves cu 
 an which nothing could be more likely to terrify the 
 dians, they being naturally of a jealous disposition, 
 id the most averse to a state of servitude perhaps of 
 iy people living. 
 “But all these wicked insinuations, through divine 
 dness over-ruling, constantly turned against the 
 thors of them, and only served to engage the affec- 
 Le of the Indians more firmly tome; for they, being 
 vakened to a solenin concern for their souls, could 
 it but observe, that the persons who endeavored to 
 bitter their minds against me, were altogether un- 
 neerned about their own souls, and not only so, but 
 fious and profane; and thence could not but argue, 
 it if they had no concern for their own, it was not 
 ily they should have for the souls of others. 
 It seems yet the more wonderful that the Indians 
 e preserved from once harkening to these sugges- 
 fis; masmuch as I was an utter stranger among 
 hm, and could give them no assurance of my sincere 
 ection to, and concern for them, by any thing that 
 | B 16* 
 | 
 | 
 
186 LIFE OP BRAINERD. (Chap. ¥ 
 
 was past,—while the persons who insinuated 
 things were their old acquaintance, who had frequ 
 opportunities of gratifying their thirsty appetites wit 
 strong drink, and consequently, doubtless had. 
 greatest interest initheir affections. But from thi 
 stance of their preservation from fatal prejudices, 
 ‘ have had occasion, with admiration, to say, ‘If 
 will work, who can hinder? 
 4. “Nor is it less wonderful how God was please 
 to provide a remedy for my want of skill and free 
 in the Indian language, by remarkably fitting my nte 
 preter for, and assisting him im the performance 0 
 work. It might reasonably be supposed I must nee 
 labor under a vast disadvantage in addressing the hi 
 dians by an Interpreter; and that divine truths wi 
 undoubtedly lose much of the energy and pathos 
 which they might at first be delivered, by reas@ 
 their coming to the audience from a second hand. 
 although this has often, to my sorrow and discout 
 ment, been the case in times past, when my Inter; 
 ter had little or no sense of divine things; yet ne 
 was quite otherwise. I cannot think my address 
 the Indians ordinarily, since the beginning of this 
 son of grace have lost any thing of the power or] 
 gency with which they were made, unless it were som 
 times for want of pertinent and pathetic terms ang 
 pressions in the Indian language ; which diffie 
 could not have been much redressed by my pers 
 acquaintance with theirlanguage. My Interpreter 
 before gained some good degree of doctrinal kuc 
 ledge, whereby he was rendered capable of understan 
 ing, and communicating, without mistakes, the inte 
 and meaning of my discourses, and that without beit 
 eonfined strictly, and obliged to interpret verbatl 
 
1745.) CHARACTER OF THE REVIVAL. 187 
 
 de had likewise, to appearance, an experimental ac- 
 juaintance with divine things; and it pleased God at 
 his season to inspire his mind with longing desires for 
 he conversion of the Indians, and to give him admi- 
 able zeal and fervency in addressing them in order 
 hereto. It is remarkable, that, when I was favored 
 vith any special assistance in any work, and enabled 
 2 speak with more than common freedom, fervency, 
 nd power, under a lively and affecting sense of divine 
 aings, he was usually affected in the same manner al- 
 jost instantly, and seemed at once quickened and en- 
 bled to speak in the same pathetic lan ge, and un- 
 erthe same influence that I did. A surprising ener- 
 often accompanied the word at such seasons 3 SO 
 at the face of the whole assembly would be apparent- 
 y changed almost in an instant, and tears and sobs be- 
 me common among them. ‘ 
 | * He also appeared to have such a clear doctrinal 
 jew of God’s usual methods of dealing with souls un- 
 er a preparatory work of conviction and humiliation 
 8 he never had before; so that I could, with his help, 
 iscourse freely with the distressed persons about their 
 hternal exercises, their fears, discouragements, temp- 
 itions, &c. He likewise took pains, day and night, to 
 feet and inculcate upon the minds of the Indians the 
 uths which I taught them daily ; and this he appeared 
 do, not from spiritual pride, and an affectation of 
 ptting himself up as a public teacher, but from a spirit 
 { faithfulness, and an honest concern for their souls. 
 | “His conversation among the Indians has likewise, 
 > far as I know, been savory, as becomes a Christian, 
 ad a person employed in his work ; and I may justly 
 ty, he has been a great comfort to me, and a great in- 
 jrument of promoting this good work among the In- 
 
ay 
 Pie 
 La 
 
 188 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. Vit 
 
 dians ; so that whatever be the state of his own soul, i 
 is apparent God has remarkably fitted him for 
 work. ‘Thus God has manifested that, without beste 
 ing'on me the gift of tongues, he could find’ a 
 wherein I might be as effectually enabled to con 
 the truths of his glorious Gospel to the minds of th 
 poor benighted pagans. 
 
 5. “It is further remarkable, that God has carried o 
 his work here by such means, and in such a mani 
 as tended to obviate, and leave no room for those p 
 judices and objections which have often been ra 
 against such a work. When persons have been aw 
 ened to a solemn concern for their souls, by heari 
 the more awful truths of God’s word, and the te : 
 of the divine law insisted upon, it has usually in s 
 cases been objected by some, that such persons w 
 only frighted with a fearful noise of hell and dam 
 tion; and that there was no evidence that their e 
 cern was the effect of a divine influence. But G 
 has left no room for this objection in the present ea 
 this work of grace having been begun and carried 
 by almost one continued strain of Gospel ne 
 perishing sinners. 'This may reasonably be guess 
 ’ from a view of the passages of Scripture I chiefly 
 sisted upon in my discourses from time to time ; whi 
 I have for that purpose inserted in my diary. 
 
 “Nor have I ever seen so general an awakening 
 any assembiy in my life as appeared here while I ¥ 
 opening and insisting upon the parable of the 
 supper. Luke, 14. In which discourse I was enabl 
 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 theit 
 fallen state, and the sinfulness and misery of it; for 
 
| 
 ™, 
 745.) CHARACTER OF THD REVIVAL. 189 
 | 
 his was what I at first chiefly insisted upon with them, 
 und endeavored to repeat and inculcate in almost every 
 iscourse, knowing that without this foundation I 
 fiould but build upon the sand, and that it would be 
 vain to invite them to Christ unless I could convince 
 nem Of their need of him. Mark, 2: 17. 
 _“ But still this great awakening, this surprising con- 
 ern, was never excited by: any harangues of terror, 
 ut always appeared most remarkable when I insisted 
 pon the compassion of a dying Savior, the plentiful 
 ion: of the Gospel, and the free offers of divine 
 race to needy, distressed sinners. Nor would I be 
 derstood to insinuate, that such a religious concern 
 ight justly be suspected as not being genuine and 
 ‘om a divine influence, if produced from the preach- 
 ig of terror ; for this is perhaps God’s more usual way 
 f awakening sinners, and appears entirely agreeable 
 ) Seripture and sound reason. But what I meant 
 ere to ubserve is, that God saw fit to employ and bless 
 jilder means for the effectual awakening of these In- 
 ans, and thereby obviated the forementioned objec- 
 pn, which the world might otherwise have had a 
 jore plausible color of making. 
 |“ As there has been no room’ for any plausible ob- 
 ction against this work, with regard to the means, so 
 2ither with regard to the manner in which it has been 
 tried on. It is true, persons’ concern for their souls 
 ave been exceeding great; the convictions of their sin 
 ad misery have arisen to a high degree, and produced 
 ‘any tears, cries, and groans ; but then they have not 
 ten attended with those disorders, either bodily or 
 jental, which have sometimes prevailed among per 
 (ns under religious impressions. There has here been 
 ) appearance of those convulsions, bodily agonies, 
 
 | 
 | a 
 
 45 \ 
 ! “* 
 
 | at 
 
 i, a 
 
190 LIFE OF BRAINERD. LChap. VI 
 
 frightful screamings, swoonings, and the like, w 
 have been so much complained of in some places 
 though there have been some, who, with the ja 
 have been made to tremble under a sense of their 
 and misery, and have been made to ery out from 2 
 tressing view of their perishing state. ce 
 “Nor has there been any appearance of menta 
 orders here, such as visions, trances, imaginatio 
 being under prophetic inspiration, and the like ; 
 scarce any unbecoming disposition to appear rem 
 ably affected either with concern or joy ; though In 
 confess I observed one or two persons, whose con: 
 I thought was in a considerable measure affected ; 
 one whose joy appeared to be of the same kind. 
 these workings of spiritual pride I endeavored to e 
 in their first appearances, and have not since obser 
 any affection, either of joy or sorrow, but what 
 peared genuine and unaffected. But, 
 Lastly: The effects of this work have likewise b 
 very remarkable. I doubt not but that many of th 
 people have gained more doctrinal knowledge of di 
 truths since I first visited them in June last, than e¢ 
 have been instilled into their minds by the most 
 gent use of proper and instructive means for wl 
 years together, without such a divine influence. TT! 
 pagan notions and idolatrous practices seem to be éf 
 tirely abandoned in these parts. They are regula 
 and appear regularly disposed in the affairs of mai 
 riage ; an instance whereof I have given in my jourt 
 of August 14. They seem generally divorced fr 
 drunkenness, their darling vice, the ‘sin that easil 
 besets them ;’ so that I do not know of more than’ 
 or three, who have been my steady hearers, that hat 
 drank to excess since I first visited them ; although be 
 
f 
 5 CHARACTER OF THE REVIVAL. 191 
 pe it was common for some or other of them to be 
 ‘runk almost every day : and some of them seem now 
 ) fear this sin in particular, more than death itself. A 
 rinciple of honesty and justice appears in many of 
 em; and they seem concerned to discharge their old 
 ea which they have neglected, and perhaps scarce- 
 ‘ thought of for years past. Their manner of living 
 much more decent and comfortable than formerly, 
 avying now the benefit of that money which they used 
 )consume upon strong drink. Love seems to reign 
 mong them, especially those who have ‘given evi- 
 2nces of having passed a saving change: and I never 
 \W any appearance of bitterness or censoriousness in 
 ese, nor any disposition to ‘ esteem themselves better 
 ‘an others,’ who had not received the like mercy. 
 |“ As their sorrows under convictions have been great 
 nd. pressing, so many of them have since appeared to 
 iejoice with joy unspeakable, and full of glory ;’ and 
 t I never saw any thing ecstatic or flighty in their 
 iy. Their consolations do not incline them to light- 
 ‘88 ; but, on the contrary, are attended with solemni- 
 , and often times with tears, and an apparent. broken- 
 ss of heart, as may be seen in several passages of my 
 ary. In his respect some of them have been sur- 
 jised at themselves, and have with concern observed 
 ( bus that ‘ when their hearts have been glad,’ which 
 phrase they commonly make use of to express 
 ae joy, ‘they could not help erying for all.’ 
 « And now, upon the whole, I think I may justly 
 that here are all the symptoms and evidences of a 
 Beet work of grace among these Indians, which 
 (n reasonably be desired or expected. May the great 
 Juthor of this work miaintain and promote the same 
 Jre,and propagate it every where, till ‘the whole earth 
 t filled with his glory? Amen. 
 
 | 
 
192 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap 
 
 “T have now rode more than three thousand 7 
 of which I have kept an exact account, since the be 
 ning of March last, and almost the whole of it has 
 in own proper business as a missionary, upot 
 design, either immediately or more remotely, of 
 pagating Christian knowledge among the India 
 have taken pains to look out for a colleague or ¢ 
 panion, to travel with me; and have likewise usec 
 deavors to procure something for his support, 
 religious persons in New-England, which cost 
 journey of several hundred miles; but have not, a 
 found any person qualified and disposed for this 
 work, although I had some encouragement from 
 nisters and others, that it was hoped a mainteni 
 might be procured for one, when the man shoul 
 found. 
 
 “T have likewise of late represented to the gen 
 men concerned with this mission, the necessit , 
 having an English school speedily set up among tl 
 Indians, who are now willing to be at the pains a 
 thering together in a body, for this purpose. In o 
 thereto, I have humbly proposed to them the coll 
 ing of money for the maintenance of a schoolm 
 and the defraying of other necessary charges, in 
 promotion of this good work ; which they are 
 tempting in the several congregations of Christian 
 which they respectively belong. 
 
 “ The several companies of Indians to whom I 
 preached in the summer past, live at great diste 
 from each other. It is more than seventy miles frot 
 Crossweeksung, in New-Jersey, to the Forks of 
 ware in Pennsylvania; and thence to sundry of the 
 dian settlements which I visited on the Susquehai 
 is more than an hundred and twenty miles. So m 
 
745. J DIFFICULTIES OF THE MISSION. 193 
 
 if my time is necessarily consumed in journeying, 
 hat I can have but little for any of my necessary 
 tudies, and consequently for'the study of the Indian 
 anguages in particular; and especially seeing I am 
 bliged to discourse so frequently to the Indians at 
 ach of these places while Iam with them, in order to 
 edeem time to visit the rest. Iam, at times, almost 
 iscouraged from attempting to gain any acquaintance 
 ith the Indian languages, they are so very numerous ; 
 yme account of which I gave in my diary of May last ; 
 ad especially, seeing my other labors and fatigues en- 
 ross almost the whole of my time, and bear exceed- 
 igly hard upon my constitution, so that my health is 
 juch impaired. However, I have taken considerable 
 ains to learn the Delaware language, and propose still 
 ) do so, as far as my other business and bodily health 
 ‘illadmit. Ihave already made some profi¢iency in 
 , though I have labored under many and great dis- 
 lvantages in my attempts of that nature. It is but 
 ‘st to observe here, that all the pains I took to ac- 
 laint myself with the language of the Indians with 
 10m I spent my first year, were of little or no service 
 )me here among the Delawares; so that my work, 
 en I came among these Indians, was all to be begun 
 4 
 
 Ni As these poor ignorant pagans stood in need of 
 pring ‘line upon line, and precept upon precept,’ in 
 ‘der to their being instructed and grounded in the 
 jinciples of Christianity ; so I preached ‘ publicly, 
 #d taught from house to house,’ almost every day for 
 Nnole weeks together, when I was with them. My 
 jjblic discourses did not then make up the one half of 
 yy work, while there were so many constantly coming 
 
 {me with that important inquiry, ‘What must we 
 | 17 Brainerd, 
 
 ¥ 
 t 
 
1y4 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. 
 
 do to be saved ?’ and opening to me the various 
 ercises of their minds. Yet I can say, to the p ais 
 divine grace, that the apparent success, with which 
 labors were crowned, unspeakably more than com 
 sated for the labor itself, and was likewise a 
 means of supporting and carrying me through the 
 siness and fatigues under which, it seems, my na 
 would have sunk without such an encouraging p 
 pect. But although this success has afforded matt 
 support, comfort, and thankfulness ; yet in this se 
 I have found great need of assistance in my work, 
 have been much oppressed for want of one to be 
 part of my labors and hardships. ‘ May the Lor 
 the harvest send forth other laborers into this pai 
 his harvest, that those who sit in darkness may 
 great light ; and that the whole earth may be filled 4 
 
 the knowledge of himself! Amen. ” 
 as, 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Being part 2d of his public journal of “ the Continuane 
 Progress of «remarkable work of grace among the Indiai 
 New-Jersey and Pennsylvania, kept by order of the Sociel 
 Scotland for propagating Christian knowledge.”—Renewi 
 labor at Crossweeksung—oulpouring of the spirit—remar: 
 case—signal displays of divine power—a convert—a nun 
 Christian Indians accompany him to the Forks of Detaw 
 striking conversion at Crossweeksung—day of fasting—Li 
 supper—conversion of a Conjurer—zeneral remarks on the 
 ceding narrative. 
 
 Nov. 5, 1745.—June 19, 1746, 
 
 Crossweeksung, New-Jersey, 1748 
 
 Lord's day, Nov. 24.—“ Preached both parts of th 
 day from the story of Zaccheus. Luke, 19: 1-9. I 
 
745.) AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 195 
 
 e latter exercise, when I opened and insisted upon 
 e salvation that comes to a sinner upon his beccming 
 ‘son of Abraham, or a true believer, the word seemed 
 | be attended with divine power to the hearts of the 
 varers. Numbers were much affected with divine 
 ath; former convictions were revived ; one or two 
 jrsons newly awakened ; and a most affectionate en- 
 jgement in divine service appeared among them uni- 
 ‘sally. ‘The impressions they were under appeared 
 ll genuine effect of God’s word brought home 
 {their hearts by the power and influence of the Di- 
 ve Spirit. 
 ov. 26.—“ After having spent some time in private 
 mferences with my people, I discoursed publicly 
 siong them from John, 5: 1-9. I was favored with 
 special freedom and fervency in my discourse, 
 Ha powerful energy accompanied divine truth. 
 \ny wept and sobbed affectionately, and scarcely any 
 aseared unconcerned in the whole assembly. The 
 wluence which seized the audience appeared gentle, 
 ai yet pungent and efficacious. It produced no bois- 
 ous commotion of the passions; but seemed deeply 
 affect the heart, and excite in the persons under con- 
 ‘tions of their lost state, heavy groans and tears ; and 
 others, who had obtained comfort, a sweet and hum- 
 | melting. It seemed like the gentle but steady 
 wers which effectually water the earth, without 
 lently beating upon the surface. The persons lately 
 ‘akened were some of them deeply distressed for 
 ir souls, and appeared earnestly solicitous to obtain 
 interest in Christ ; and some of them, after public 
 xship was over, in anguish of spirit, said ‘they 
 2w not what to do, nor how to get their wicked 
 uirts changed,’ &c. 
 
‘in his transfiguration, and filled with longing desir 
 
 Be of 
 
 196 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. 
 
 Nov, 28.—“ Discoursed to the Indians publicly, 
 having used some private endeavors to instruct 
 excite some in the duties of Christianity. Opened 
 made remarks upon the sacred story of our L 
 transfiguration. Luke, 9 : 28-36. Had a principal 
 in insisting upon this passage of Scripture to the 
 cation and consolation of God’s people. Obs 
 some, that I have reason to think are truly such 
 ceedingly affected with an account of the glory of O 
 
 being with him, that they might with as face be 
 his glory. 
 “ After public service was over, I asked one of t! 
 who wept and sobbed most affectionately, wha) 
 now wanted? She replied, ‘O, to be with Cl 
 She did not know how to stay, &c. This w 
 blessed refreshing season to the religious people ir 
 neral. The Lord Jesus Christ seemed to manife: 
 divine glory to them, as when transfigured befor 
 disciples ; and they were ready, with the disciples, 
 versally to say, ‘ Lord it is good for us to be here. 
 “ The inflnence of God’s word was not confin 
 those who had given evidence of being truly grace’ 
 though at this time I calculated my discourse fo 
 directed it chiefly to such. But it appeared tc 
 season of divine power in the whole assembly ; sc 
 most were in some measure affected. One aged 
 in particular, lately awakened, was now brought 1 
 a deep and pressing concern for his soul, wa: Ss 
 earnestly inquisitive ‘ how he might find Jest Chri 
 God seems still to vouchsafe his divine presence 
 the influence of his blessed Spirit to accompam 
 word, at least in some measure, in all our meeting 
 divine worship. 
 
| 
 
 1745.) AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 197 
 
 _ Nov. 30.—“ Preached near night, after having spent 
 jome hours in private conference with some of my 
 seople about their souls’ concerns. Explained the 
 itory of the rich man and Lazarus. Luke, 16 : 19-26. 
 The word made powerful impressions upon many in 
 ihe assembly, especially while I discoursed of the bless- 
 ‘dness of Lazarus in Abraham’s bosom. This I could 
 ‘erceive affected them much more than what I spoke 
 f the rich man’s misery and torments; and thus it has 
 en usually with them. They have almost always 
 ppeared much more affected with the comfortable 
 1an the dreadful truths of God’s word. That which 
 as distressed many of them under conviction is, that 
 hey found they wanted and could not obtain the hap- 
 iness of the godly ; at least they have often appeared 
 )be more affected with this than with the terrors of 
 ell. But whatever be the means of their awakening, 
 is plain, numbers are made deeply sensibie of their 
 ‘m and misery, the wickedness and stubbornness_of 
 lair own hearts, their utter inability to Help them- 
 ‘ives, or to come to Christ for help without divine 
 ‘jsistance, and so are brought to see their perishing 
 eed of Christ to do all for them, and to lie at the foot 
 sovereign mercy. 
 \Lord’s day, Dec. 1.—“ Discoursed to my people in 
 ‘e forenoon from Luke, 16 : 27-81. There appeared 
 4 unfeigned affection in many, and some seemed 
 ¢eply impressed with divine truth. In the afternoon 
 eached to a number of white people 3 at which time 
 e Indians attended with diligence, and many of them 
 ere able to understand a considerable part of the dis- 
 rse. At night discoursed to my people again, and 
 ve them particular cautions and directions relating 
 their conduct in divers respects, and pressed them 
 | lie 
 
 ' 
 
 B 
 
tae 
 v 
 
 -and who stood ready to draw them into temptations 
 
 ~ 
 
 198 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. } 
 
 to watehfulness in their deportment, see.ng they wen 
 encompassed with those who waited for their haltiz 
 
 every kind, and then to expose religion by apes m 
 steps. 
 
 Lord’s day, Dec. 8.—* Discoursed on the story 
 the blind man. John, 9. There appeared no remé 
 ble effect of the word upon the assembly at this tim 
 The persons who have lately been much concerned! 
 their souls seemed now not so affected or solicitou: 
 obtain an interest in Christ as has been usual, altho 
 they attended divine service with seriousness and 
 gence. Such have been the doings of the Lord h 
 in awakening sinners, and affecting the hearts 
 those who are brought to solid comfort, with a f 
 sense of divine things from time to time, that it isi 
 strange to see the assembly sit with dry eyes, 
 without sobs and groans. 
 
 Dec. 12.—“ Preached from the parable of the 7 
 Virgins. Matt. 25. The divine power seemed ins 
 measure to attend this discourse; in which I was fay 
 ed with uncommon freedom and plainness of addr 
 and enabled to open divine truths, and explain fi] 
 to the capacities of my people in a manner bey 
 myself. There appeared in many persons an af 
 tionate concern for their souls, although the cone 
 in general seemed not so deep and pressing as it 
 formerly done. Yet it was refreshing to see mé 
 melted into tears and unaffected sobs; some will 
 sense of divine love, and some for the want of it. 
 
 Dec. 15.—“ Preached to the Indians from Luke 
 13 : 24-28. Divine truth fell with weight and pow 
 upon the audience, and seemed to reach the heart 
 many. Near night discoursed to them again 
 
f 
 
 | 
 
 745.] ’ AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 199 
 
 att. 25:81-46. At this season also the word ap- 
 eared to be accompanied with a divine influence, and 
 iade powerful impressions upon the assembly in gene- 
 
 al, as well as upon numbers in a very special and par- 
 
 nenet manner, ‘This was an amazing season of grace. 
 ‘he word of the Lord this day ‘ was quick and pow- 
 ‘ful, sharper than a two-edged sword,’ and pierced 
 e hearts of many. The assembly was sreatly affect- 
 i and deeply wrought upon; yet without so much 
 parent commotion of the passions as appeared 1 in the 
 »ginning of this work of grace. The impressions 
 ade by the word of God upon the audience appeared 
 ‘lid, rational, and deep ; worthy of the solemn truths 
 i means of which they were produced, and far from 
 sing the effects of any sudden fright, or groundless 
 *rturbation of mind. O how did the hearts of the 
 sarers seem to bow under the weight of divine truth, 
 id how evident did it now appear that they received 
 ad felt them, ‘not as the word of man, but as the 
 ord of God.’ None can form a just idea of the ap- 
 jarance of our assembly at this time, but those who 
 lve seen a congregation solemnly awed, and deeply 
 Peso’ by the special power and influence of divine 
 faiths delivered to them in the name of God. 
 
 lec. 16.—“ Discoursed to my people i in the evening 
 i Luke, 11: 1-13. After having insisted some time 
 on the ninth verse, wherein there is a command and 
 ecouragement to ask for the divine favor, I called 
 ‘on them to ask for a new heart with the utmost im- 
 prtunity, as the man mentioned in the parable, on 
 y 1ich I was discoursing, pleaded for loaves of bread 
 1 midnight. There was much affection and concern 
 ithe assembly, and especially one woman appeared 
 igreat distress for her soul. She was brought to such! 
 | 
 | 
 
| 
 
 200 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. w 
 
 an agony in seeking after Christ, that the sweat 
 off her face for a considerable time, though the 
 ing was very cold; and her bitter cries were the 
 ‘ affecting indications of her heart. f 
 
 Dec. 21.—“ My people having now attained 
 considerable degree of knowledge in the principle 
 christianity ; I thought it proper to set up a catechet 
 cal lecture among them, and this evening attempte 
 something in that form, proposing questions to the 
 agreeably to the Assembly’s Shorter Catechism, t 
 ceiving their answers, and then explaining and insis 
 ing, as appeared necessary and proper upon each que 
 tion. After this I endeavored to make some practic 
 improvement of the whole.. This was the method 
 entered upon. They were able readily and rationall 
 to answer many important questions which I propose 
 to them; so that upon trial I found their doctrin; 
 knowledge to exceed my own expectations. In 4 
 improvement of my discourse, when I came to inf 
 and open the blessedness of those who have so gret 
 and glorious a God as had before been spoken of, 
 their everlasting friend and portion,’ several wer 
 much affected; and especially when I exhorted, an 
 endeavored to persuade them to be reconciled to € 
 through his dear Son, and thus to secure an interesti 
 his everlasting favor. So that they appeared not onl 
 enlightened and instructed, but affected, and engag 
 in their soul’s concerns by this method of discoursii 
 
 Lord's day, Dec. 22.— Discoursed upon the stor 
 of the young man in the Gospel. Matt. 9: 16-22. Ge 
 made it a seasonable word, I am persuaded, to som 
 souls, and in particular to one, the same mentioned i 
 my journal of the 16th instant, who never before o 
 tained any ‘settled comfort, though I have a 
 
\ 
 (745. OUTPOURING OF THE SPIRIT. 201 
 
 season to think she had passed a saving change some 
 lays before. She now appeared in a heavenly frame 
 of mind, composed and delighted with the divine will. 
 When I came to discourse particularly with her, and 
 0 inquire of her how she obtained relief and deliver- 
 ince from the spiritual distresses which she had lately 
 wuflered, she answered, in broken English, ‘Me try, 
 ne try save myself ; last, my strength be all gone ; 
 meaning her ability to save herself 3) could not me 
 tir bit further. Den last me forced let Jesus Christ 
 \lone send me hell, if he please.” 1 said, ‘But ae was 
 lot willing to go to hell, was you?’ She repl ied, ‘ Could 
 vot me helpit. My heart, he would wicked foe all. 
 Dould not me make him swoad?: (meanimg, she saw it 
 vas right she should go to hell, because her heart was 
 vicked, and would be so after all she could do to mend 
 +.) Lasked her how she got out of this case. She 
 inswered still in the same broken language, ‘ By by, 
 iy heart be glad desperately” I asked her why her 
 leart was glad? She replied, ‘Glad my heart, Jesus 
 Yhrist do what he please with me. Did not me care 
 here he put me; love him for all, &c. She could not 
 adily be convinced but that she was willing to go to 
 ‘ell if Christ was pleased to send her there; although 
 pe truth evidently was, that her will was so swallowed 
 Pin the divine will that She could not frame any hell 
 n her imagination which would be dreadful or unde- 
 irable, provided it was the will of God to send her to 
 Toward night discoursed to them again in the 
 latechetical method which I enterea upon the evening 
 lefore. When I came to improve the truth which I 
 jad explained to them, and to answer that question, 
 ‘But how shall I know whether God has chosen me te 
 \verlasting life?’ by pressing them to come and give 
 
 = 
 
al 
 202 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. 4 
 
 up their hearts to Christ, and thereby ‘to make thei 
 election sure,’ they then appeared much affected, 
 the persons ‘under concern were afresh engaged j 
 seeking after an interest in him; while some other. 
 who had obtained comfort pola were refreshed { 
 find that love to God in themselves which was an ey 
 dence of his electing love to them. 
 Dec. 25.—“ The Indians having been used on Christ 
 mas days to drink and revel among some of the w 
 people in these parts, I thought it proper this de 
 call them together and discourse to them upon divin 
 things; which I accordingly did from the parable o 
 the barren fig-tree. Luke, 13 : 6-9. A divine influence 
 I am persuaded, accompanied the word at this sea 
 The power of God appeared in the assembly, no 
 producing any remarkable cries, but by rousing severa 
 stupid creatures who were scarcely ever moved will 
 any concern before. The power attending divine tr 
 seemed to have the influence of the earthquake raf 
 than of the whirlwind upon them. Their passions w 
 not so much alarmed as has been common here in tin 
 past, but their judgments appeared to be powerfully 
 convinced by the masterly and conquering influence of 
 divine truth. The impressions made upon the ass 
 bly in general, seemed not superficial, but deep, and 
 heart affecting. O how ready did they now appear uni 
 versally to embrace and eumply with every thi 
 which they heard, and were convinced was their du 
 God was in the midst of us, of a truth, bowing am 
 melting stubborn hearts! How many tears and sobs 
 were then to be seen and heard among us! What live- 
 liness and strict attention! What eagerness and in 
 tenseness of mind appeared in the whole assembly, i 
 the time of divine service. They seemed to watch 
 
17465.] REMARKABLE CASE. : 203 
 
 wait for the droppings of God’s word, as the thirsty 
 zarth, for the ‘ former and latter rain.’ 
 _ “ Afterward I discoursed to them on the duty of hus- 
 dands and wives, from Eph. 5 : 22-33, and have reason 
 to think this was a word in season. Spent some time 
 further in the evening in inculcating the truths on 
 which I had insisted in my former discourse, respect- 
 ng the barren fig-tree ; and observed a powerful in- 
 luence still accompany what was spoken. 
 _ Dec, 26.—“ This evening was visited by a person un- 
 ler great spiritual distress; the most remarkable in- 
 jtance of this kind I ever saw. She was, I believe, 
 more than fourscore years old; and appeared to be 
 nuch broken and very childish, through age; so that 
 seemed impossible for man to instil into her any no- 
 ions of divine things ; not so much as to give her any 
 loctrinal instruction, because she seemed incapable of 
 eing taught. She was led by the hand into my house, 
 md appeared in extreme anguish. I asked her what 
 led her? She answered, ‘her heart was distressed, 
 ind she feared she should never find Christ” I asked 
 jer when she began to be concerned, with divers other 
 luestions relating to her distress. To all which she 
 nswered, for substance, to this effect: ‘ That she had 
 eard me preach many times, but never knew any thing 
 it, never felt it in her heart, till the last Sabbath, 
 nd then it came, she said, ‘as if a needle had been 
 irust into her heart ; since which time she had no rest 
 ay nor night.’ She added, ‘ that on the evening before 
 thristmas, a number of Indians being together, at the 
 duse where shé was, and discoursing about Christ, 
 veir talk pricked her heart so that she could not set UD, 
 ut fell down in her bed ; at which time she went away,’ 
 3 she expressed it, ‘and felt as if she dreamed, and 
 ; 
 } “es i £ 
 
a LIFE OF BRAINERD, {Chap. 3 
 
 yet 13 confident she did not dream. When she was th 
 gone, she saw two palhs ; one appeared very br 
 and crooked ; and that turned to the left hand. 
 other appeared straig.it and very narrow ; and 
 went up the hill to the right hand. She traveled,’ sl 
 said, ‘for some time up the narrow right hand path 
 at length something seemed to obstruct her jour 
 She sometimes called it darkness ; and then describe 
 otherwise, and seemed to compare it to a block or ba 
 She then remembered whet she had heard me say ai 
 striving to enter in at the straight gate, although 
 took liltle notice of it ot the time when she heard me 
 course upon that subject ; and. thought she would ¢ 
 over this bar. But just as she was thinking of this 
 came back again,’ as she termed it, meaning that 
 came to herself; ‘whereupon her soul was extre 
 distressed, apprehending that she had now turned b 
 and forsaken Christ, and. that there was therefo 
 hope of mercy for hen 
 
 “ As I was sensible that trances, and imaginary vi 
 of things are of dangerous tendency in religion, w! 
 sought after and depended upon; so I could not butt 
 much concerned about this exercise, especially at fi 
 apprehending this might be a design of satan to b 
 a blemish upon the work of God here, by introduc 
 visionary scenes, imaginary terrors, and all mann 
 mental disorders and delusions, in the room of genuit 
 convictions of sin, and the enlightening influences 
 the blessed Spirit; and I was almost resolved to deelar 
 that I looked upon this to be one of satan’s device 
 and to caution my people against this and similar 
 ercises of that nature. However, I determined firs 
 inquire into her knowledge, to see whether she I 
 any, just views of things,that might be the occasion 
 
 rte 
 
1745. a REMARKABLE CASE. 205 
 
 « 
 
 jer present distressing concern, or eeuieatiey it was a 
 mere fright, arising only from imaginary terrors. I 
 asked her numerous questions respecting man’s primi- 
 ive, and more especially, his present state, and respect- 
 ng her own -heart; which she answered rationally, 
 ind to my surprise. I thought it next to impossible, if 
 lot altogether so, that a Pagan, who was become a 
 vhild through age, should in that state gain so much 
 owledge by any mere human instruction, without 
 ‘eng remarkably enlightened by a divine influence. 
 then proposed to her the provision made in the gos- 
 vel for the salvation of sinners, and the ability and 
 yillingness of Christ ‘to save to the uttermost all, old 
 s well as young, that come to him.’ To this she 
 med to give a hearty assent; but instantly replied, 
 Ay, but I cannot come; my igh heart will not come 
 ? Christ ; Ido not know how to come, &c. This she 
 poke in anguish of spirit, striking on her breast, with 
 ears in her. eyes, and with such earnestness:in her 
 doks as was indeed piteous and affecting. She seems 
 » be really convinced of her sin and misery, and her 
 eed of a change of heart. Her concern is abiding 
 nd constant, so that nothing appears why this exer- 
 fae may not have asaving issue. Indeed there seems 
 2ason to hope such an issue, seeing she is so solicitous 
 
 obtain an interest in Christ, that her heart, as she 
 xpresses it, prays day and nih 
 | “How far God may make use of the imagination in 
 
 akening some persons under these, and similar cir- 
 umstances, I cannot pretend todetermine. Or, wheth- 
 i this exercise be from a divine influence, I shall leave 
 thers to judge. But this I must say, that its effects 
 itherto bespeak it to be such; nor can it, as I see, be 
 
 ecounted for in any rational way, but from the influ- 
 } 18 Brainerd, 
 
I am sure never heard divine things in the mang 
 which she now viewed them; and it would 
 strange that she should get such a rational notic 
 them from the mere working of her own fancy, 4 
 out some superior, or at least foreign aid. Yet I 
 say, [have looked upon it as one of the glories of 
 work of grace among the Indians, and a special 
 dence of its being from a divine influence, that 
 has, till now, been no appearance of such thing 
 visionary notions, trances, andimaginations, inte 
 with those rational convictions of sin,.and sola eo 
 lations, of which numbers have been made the subj 
 And might I have had my desire, there had bee 
 appearance of any thing of this nature at all. 
 Dec. 28.“ Discoursed to my people in the cateel 
 cal method on which I lately entered. In the imp 
 ment of my discourse, wherein I was comparing m 
 present with his primitive state, and showir.g 
 what he had fallen, and the miseries in which he is 
 involved, and to which he is exposed in his natu 
 tate; and pressing sinners to take a view of thei 
 plorable circumstances without Christ, as also to s 
 that they might obtain an interest in him; the 
 Arust, granted a remarkable influence of k.’s ble 
 Spirit to accompany what was spoken; and ag 
 concern appeared in the assembly. Many were r 
 ed into tears and sobs; and the impressions made I 
 on them seemed deep and heart-affeeting. In partie: 
 lar, there were two or three persons who appeare 
 be brought to the last exercises of a preparatory ¥ 
 and reduced almost to extremity; being in a great 1 
 sure convinced of the impossibility of their help 
 themselves, or of mending their own hearts; and se 
 
 % 
 
ae 
 
 ’ 
 
 M5. ' ourrounine OF THE SPIRIT. 207 
 
 ed to be upon the point of giving up all hope in them- 
 selves, and of venturing upon Christ, as poor, helpless, 
 ad undene. Yet they were in crstress and anguish 
 yecause they saw no safety in so doing, unless they 
 sould do something toward saving themselves. One 
 of these persons was the very aged woman above-men- 
 ‘ioned, who now appeared ‘weary and heavy laden’ 
 vith a sense of her sin and misery, and her pi Pisuiag 
 ieed of an interest in Christ. 
 
 | Lor@s day, Dec. 29.—“ Preached from John, 3: 1-5. 
 " numer of white people were present, as is usual up- 
 ntheSabhath. 'The discourse was accom panied with 
 /ower, and seemed to have a silent, but deep and 
 ‘iercing influence upon the audience. Many wept 
 md sobbed affectionately. There were some tears 
 mong the white people as well asthe Indians. Some 
 ould not refrain from crying out; though there were 
 oi many so exercised. But the im pressions made up- 
 m their hearts appeared chiefly by the extraordinary 
 arnestness of their attention, and their heavy sighs 
 ad tears. 
 
 “After public worship was over I went to my house, 
 roposing to preach again after a short seasonof inter- 
 lission. But they soon came in, one after another, 
 it® tears in their eyes, to know ‘ antl they should do 
 |7e saved.” ‘The divine Spirit in such a manner set 
 oire upon their hearts what I spake to them that the 
 duse was soon filled with cries and groans. They all 
 deked together upon this occasion; and those, whom 
 fnad reason to think in a Christless state, were almost 
 fiversally seized with concern for their souls. It was 
 4 amazing season of power among them; and seemed 
 ; if God had bowed the heavens and cine down. So 
 rence asic, Sp was the operation upon old as 
 
 tae 
 
208 LIFE OF BRAINERD. — (Chap. 
 
 well a8 young, that it seemed as if none would be © 
 in a secure and natural state, but that God was 
 about to convert all the world. I was ready to thi 
 then, that I should never again despair of the con 
 sion of any man or woman living, be they who or ¥ 
 they would. 
 “Jt is impossible to give a just and lively deserir 
 of the appearance of things at this season; at least 
 as to convey a bright and adequate idea of tl 
 fects of this influence. A number might now be si 
 rejoicing that God had not taken away the powel 
 influence of his blessed Spirit from this place; refres 
 to see so many striving to enter in at the strait g 
 and animated with such concern for them, thatt 
 wanted to push them forward, as some of them expr 
 ed it. At the same time numbers both of men and 
 men, old and young, might be seen in tears; and s¢ 
 in anguish ofspirit, appearing in their very counten 
 ces like condemned malefactors bound toward 
 place of execution, with a heavy solicitude sitting 
 their faces; so that there seemed here, as I thoug 
 lively emblem of the solemn day of account: a1 
 ture of heaven and hell; of joy and anguish ine 
 sible. 
 “The concern and religious affection was such, 
 I could not pretend to have any formal religious 
 cise among them; but spent the time in discoursin 
 one and another, as I thought most proper and sez 
 able for each ; and sometimes addressed them altogi 
 er; and finally concluded with prayer. Such were 
 circumstances at this season,that I could scarcely 
 half an hour’s rest from speaking, from about hal 
 hour before twelve o’clock, at which time I began f 
 lie worship, till after seven at night. There appe 
 
¥ 
 
 \746.] OU'TPOURING OF THE SPIRIT. 209 
 
 be four or five persons newly awakened this day 
 ind the evening before; some of whom but very lately 
 vame among us. 
 | Dec. 30. “Was visited by four or five young per- 
 ‘ons under concern for their souls; most of whom 
 vere very lately awakened. They wept much while 
 t discoursed with them and endeavored to press upon 
 hem the necessity of flying to Christ without delay 
 ‘or salvation. 
 | Dec. 31.—“Spent.some hours this day in visiting my 
 eople from house to house, and conversing with them 
 bout their spiritual concerns; endeavoring to press up- 
 mChristless souis the necessity of a renovation of heart; 
 nd scarce left a house without leaving some or other 
 if its inhabitants in tears, appearing solicitously en- 
 a to obtain an interest in Christ. 
 
 “The Indians are now gathered together from all 
 uarters to this place, and have built them little cotta- 
 es, so that more than twenty families live within a 
 Decter of a mile from me. A very convenient situa- 
 ion with regard both to public and private instruction. 
 | Jan. 1, 1746.—Spent considerable time in visiting 
 ny people again. Found scarcely one but what was 
 inder some serious impressions respecting their spiri- 
 ial concerns. 
 . Jan. 2.—“ Visited some persons newly come among 
 is, who had scarce ever heard any thing of Christia- 
 \ity before, except the empty name. Endeavored to in- 
 ‘truct them, particularly in the first principles of reli- 
 sion, in the most easy and familiar manner I could. 
 Chere are strangers from remote parts, almost continu- 
 ily dropping in among us, so that I have occasion re- 
 paatedly, to open and inculeate the fat principles of 
 Zhristianity. 
 
 ) 
 
 18 
 
210 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. ¥ 
 
 Jan, 4.— Prosecuted my catechetical method of 
 structing. Found my people able to answer questia 
 with propriety, beyond what could have been expee 
 from persons so lately brought out of heathenish d 
 ness. In the improvement of my discourse there 
 peared some concern and affection in the assembly 
 and especially in those of whom I entertained hop 
 as being truly gracious, at least several of them wi 
 much affected and refreshed. 
 
 Lord's day, Jan. 5.—“ Discoursed from Matt. 12 + 
 -13. There appeared not so much liveliness and affe 
 tion in divine service as usual. The same truths whie 
 have often produced many tears and sobs in the 
 sembly seemed now to have no special influence up¢ 
 any init. Near night I proposed to have proceede 
 in my usual method of eatechising ; but while we vy 
 engaged in the first prayer, the. power of God seem 
 to descend upon the assembly in such a remarks 
 manner, and so many appeared under pressing cc 
 cern for their souls, that I thought it much more ¢ 
 pedient to insist upon the plentiful provision made 
 divine grace for the redemption of perishing sinner 
 and to press them to a speedy acceptance of the , 
 salvation, than to ask them questions about doctri 
 points. "What was most practical seemed most sé 
 sonable’ to be insisted upon, while numbers appeared 
 so extraordinarily solicitous to obtain an interest 
 the great Redeemer. 
 
 “This day the woman mentioned i in my journal of 
 December 22, made a public profession of her faith. 
 She has envend a very sweet and heavenly frame 
 of mind from time to time, since her first reception of 
 comfort. One morning in particular, she came to see 
 me, discovering an unusual joy and satisfaction in I 
 
Ws as 
 
 | 
 146.] OUTPOURING OF THE SPIRIT. 211_ 
 
 yintenance ; and when I inquired into the reason of 
 she replied, ‘that God had made her feel that it was 
 sht for him to do what he pleased with all things; 
 a that it would be right if he should cast her hae! 
 sid and son both into hell; and she saw it was so 
 tht for God to do what he ieee with them, that 
 e could not but rejoice in God even if he should send 
 2m into hell ;’ though it was apparent she loved them 
 arly. She moreover inquired whether I was not sent 
 preach to the Indians by some good people a great 
 y off. I replied, ‘ Yes, by the good people in Scot- 
 d.’ She answered, ‘that her heart loved those good 
 dple so the evening before, that she could scarce help 
 ying for them all night, her heart would go to God 
 ‘them’ Thus, the blessing of those ready to perish, 
 ike to come upon those pious persons who have 
 nmunicated of their substance to the propagation of 
 + Gospel. 
 Lord’s day, Jan. 12.—“ Preached from Isaiah, 55 : 
 The word of God seemed to fall upon the audiences j 
 hb a divine oan and influence, and evidently ap- 
 ‘ to be ‘not the word of man.’ The blessed 
 
 rit, I am persuaded, accompanied what was spoken 
 
 he hearts of many; so that there was a powerful 
 val of conviction in numbers who were wee spiri- 
 exer-ises before. 
 
 Toward night catechised in my ate method. 
 x close of my discourse there appeared a great 
 ‘cern, and much affection in the audience ; which 
 peased while I continued to invite them to come to 
 -Sufficient Redeemer for eternal salvation. The 
 rit of God seems, from time to time, to be striving 
 1souls here. They are so frequently and repeated- 
 oused, that they seem unable at Loos so to lull 
 nse asleep. \ ' 
 
212°" LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. | 
 
 Jan. 13.—“ Was visited by several persons Ul 
 deep concern for their souls; one of whom was new! 
 awakened. It isa most agreeable work to treat wi 
 souls who are solicitously inquiring. Swhat they § 
 do to be saved.’ As we arenever to be ‘ weary in 
 doing,’ so the obligation seems to be peculiarly st 
 when the work is so very desirable. Yet I must 
 my health is so much impaired, and my spiri 
 wasted with my labors and solitary manner of li ; 
 there being no human creature in the house with 
 that their repeated and almost incessant applic 
 to me for help ‘and direction, are sometimes exe 
 ingly burdensome, and so exhaust my spirits th 
 become fit for nothing at all, entirely unable to pi 
 cute my business, sometimes for days together. 
 contributes much toward this difficulty is, tha’ 
 obliged to spend much time in communicating a 
 matter to them; there being oftentimes many 
 to be premised before I can speak directly to W 
 principally-aim at; which things would readily be 
 for granted where there was a competency of ¢ 
 nal knowledge. 4 
 
 Jan. 14.— Spent some time in private confe1 
 with my people, and found some disposed to take | 
 fort, as I thought, upon slight grounds. They ar 
 generally awakened, and it is become so disgra 
 as well as terrifying to the conscience, to be des 
 of religion, that they are in imminent danger of t 
 up with an appearance of grace, rather than t 
 under the fear and disgrace of an unregenerated ‘sta 
 
 Jan. 18.—* Prosecuted my catechetical meth 
 discoursing. There appeared a great solemni LY, 2 
 “some considerable affection in the assembly, 
 method of instruction I find very profitable. 
 
he 
 
 746. OU'TPOURING OF THE SPIRIT. 213 
 
 rst entered upon it I was exercised with fears, lest 
 y discourses would unavoidably be so doctrinal that 
 y would tend only to enlighten the head, but not to 
 fect the heart. But the event proved quite otherwise ; 
 ry these exercises have hitherto been remarkably 
 essed in the latter, as well as the former respects. 
 Lord's day, Jan. 19.—“ Discoursed to my people 
 mm Isaiah, 55:7. Toward night catechised in my 
 idinary method ; and this appeared to be a powerful 
 On of grace among us. Numbers were much af- 
 ted. Convictions were powerfully revived, and 
 ristians refreshed and strengthened ; and one weary, . 
 avy laden soul, I have abundant reason to hope, 
 ought to true rest and solid comfort in Christ ; who 
 erward gave me such an account of God’s desing 
 th his soul as was abundantly satisfying, as well as 
 freshing to me. 
 “He told me he had often heard me say that per- 
 as must see and feel themselves utterly helpless and 
 done—that they, must be emptied of a dependence 
 ‘on themselves, and of all hope of saving themselves, ° 
 order to their coming to Christ for salvation. He 
 d long been striving after this view of things ; sup- 
 sing that this would be an excellent frame of mind, 
 ‘be thus emptied of a dependence upon his own good- 
 38; that God would have respect to this frame, would 
 +n be well pleased with him, and bestow eternal life 
 
 all his thoughts and expectations ; so that it was not 
 same frame, nor indeed any: thing like the frame 
 ler which he had been seeking. Instead of its being 
 ood frame of mind, he now found nothing but bad- 
 bs in himself, and saw it was for ever impossible for 
 
 A 
 
214 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. 
 
 him to make himself any better. He wondered, he 
 that he had ever hoped to mend his own heart. 
 was amazed that he had never before seen that i 
 utterly impossible for him, by all nis contrivances 
 endeavors, to do any thing in that way, since the 1 
 ter now appeared to him in so clear a light. Ins 
 of imagining now that God would be pleased » 
 him for the sake of this frame of mind, and this } 
 of his undone estate, he saw clearly, and felt th 
 would be just with God to send him to eternal mis 
 and that there was no goodness in what he then ; 
 for he could not help seeing that he was naked, sit 
 and miserable, and that there was nothing in sue 
 sight to deserve God’s love or pity. 
 “He saw these things in a manner so clear and ¢ 
 vincing, that it seemed to him, he said, he could ¢ 
 vince every body of their utter inability to help th 
 selves, and their unworthiness of any help from 
 In this frame of mind he came to public worship 
 evening; and while I was inviting sinners to co 
 Christ naked and empty, without any goodness of 
 own to recommend them to his acceptance, then 
 thought with himself that he had often tried to ec 
 and give up his heart to Christ, and he used to h 
 that some time or other he should be able to do 
 but now he was convinced that he could not, an 
 seemed utterly vain for him ever to try any more; 
 he could not, he said, find a heart to make any fur 
 attempt, because he saw it would signify nothin 
 all; nor did he now hope for a better opportunity 
 more ability hereafter, as he had formerly done, be 
 eause he saw and was fully convinced that his a 
 strength would for ever fail. a 
 “While he was musing in this manner he saw, 
 
 — 
 
is a 
 746.) _ OU'TPOURING OF THE SPIRIT. 215 
 
 aid, with his heart, (which is acommon phrase among 
 iem,) something that was unspeakably good and love- 
 *, and what he had never seen before ; and ‘ this stole 
 ee his heart whether he would or no” He did not, 
 2 said, know what it was he saw. He did not say 
 his is Jesus Christ ;’ but it was such glory and beauty 
 he never saw before. He did not now give away 
 heart, as he had formerly intended and attempted 
 do; but it went away of itself after that glory he 
 m discovered. He used to make a bargain with 
 to give up his heart to him that he might have 
 life for it. But now he thought nothing about 
 If or what would become of him hereafter ; but 
 
 : pleased,’and his mind wholly taken up with the 
 
 peakable excellency of what he then beheld. After 
 
 ie time he was wonderfully pleased with the way 
 alvation by Christ; so that it seemed unspeakably 
 sirable to be saved altogether by the mere free grace 
 God in him. The consequence of this exercise is, 
 i appears to retain a sense and relish of divine 
 , and to maintain a life of seriousness and true 
 
 - 28.—“ The Indians in these parts have, in times 
 tun themselves in debt by their excessive drink- 
 3 and some have taken the advantage of them, and 
 them to trouble and charge, by arresting some of 
 n; whereby it was supposed their hunting lands in 
 t part were much endangered, and might speedily 
 en from them. Being sensible that they could 
 
 ‘subsist together. in these parts, in order to their 
 ig a Christian congregation, if these lands should 
 faken, which was thought very likely; I thought it 
 
 (duty to use my utmost endeavors to prevent so un-. 
 py an event. Having acquainted the gentlemen 
 
216 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chs 
 
 concerned in this mission with the affair, accordi 
 the best information I could get of it, they thou 
 proper to expend the money which they had beer 
 still were collecting for the religious interest 
 Indians, at least a part of it, for discharging their deb 
 and securing these lands, that there might be no 
 glement lying upon them to hinder the settlemen 
 hopeful enlargement of a Christian congregation of | 
 dians in these parts. Having received orders fromt 
 I answered in behalf of the Indians, eighty-two po 
 five shillings, New-Jersey currency, at eight sha 
 per ounce ; and so prevented the danger or diff 
 in this respect. 
 “ As God has wrought a wonderful work of ; 
 among these Indians, and now inclines others 
 remote places to fall inamong them almost contin 
 and as he has opened a door for the prevention ¢ 
 difficulty now mentioned, which seemed great 
 threaten their religious interests as well as 
 comforts; it is to be hoped that he designs to est 
 a church for himself among them, and hand 
 true religion to their posterity. 
 Jan. 30.—“ Preached to the Indians from Jo 
 16,17. There was a solemn attention and some 
 tion visible in the audience; especially several pe 
 who had long been concerned for their souls, se 
 afresh excited and engaged in seeking after an ini 
 in Christ. One, with much concern, afterward to 
 ‘his heart was so pricked with my preaching he 
 not where to turn or what to do.’ - 
 Jan. 31.—“This day the person whom I had h 
 choice of and engaged for a school master amongt 
 dians arrived among us, and was heartily weleom 
 my people universally. Whereupon! distributed seve 
 dozen of primers among the children and young peo; 
 
 nitirt. ‘ 3 } 
 
t 
 46.) SCHOOL ESTABLISHED. 217 
 
 Py b. 1—“ My schoolmaster entered upon his busi- 
 iss among the Indians. He has generally about thirty 
 ildren and young persons in his school in the day 
 he and about fifteen married people in the evening 
 1001, The number of married persons being less 
 in it would be if they could be more constantly at 
 
 e, and could spare time from their necessary em- 
 ryments for an attendance upon these instructions. 
 ‘In the evening catechised in my usual method. 
 ward the close of my discourse a surprising power 
 smed to attend the word, especially to some persons. 
 e man. considerably in years, who had been a re- 
 rkable drunkard, a conjurer and murderer, and was 
 a) kened some months before, was now brought to 
 at extremity under his spiritual distress; so that he 
 m bled for hours together, and apprehended himself 
 | { dropping into hell, without any power to rescue 
 Telieve himself. preity others appeared under 
 i concern, as well as he, and solicitous to obtain 
 
 lord's day, Feb. 2.—* Preached from John, 5: 24, 
 | There appeared, as usual, some concern and affez- 
 in theassembly. Toward night proceeded in my 
 al method of catechising.. Observed my people 
 re ready in answering tne questions proposed to 
 o than ever before. It,1s apparent they advance 
 ‘y in doctrinal knowledge. But what is still more 
 arable, the Spirit of God is yet operating among 
 m; whereby experimentai as well as speculative 
 Wwledge is propagated in their minds. 
 
 “eb. 5.—“ Diseoursed to a considerable number of 
 i ans in the evening ; at whichtime numbers of them 
 jeared much affected and melted with divine things. 
 ‘eb, 8.—“ Spent a considerable part of the day in 
 19 Brainey!. 
 
ee 
 ‘ thes. ™ 
 
 218 “LYFE OF BRALNERD. 
 
 tio 
 
 visiting my people from house to house, and cony, 
 with them about their souls concerns. Many p 
 wept, while I discoursed to them, and appeared 
 cerned for nothing so much as for an interest. 
 great Redeemer. In the evening catechised as 
 Divine truth made some impressions upon the 
 ence; and were attended with an affectionate e 
 ment of soul in some. € 
 
 Lord’s day, Feb. 9.— Discoursed to my people 
 the story of the blind man. Matt. 10: 46-52. 
 word of God seemed weighty, and powerful upo 
 assembly at this time, and made considerable ir 
 sions upon many; sevebal in particular, who 
 generally been remarkably stupid and careless 
 ‘the means of grace, were now awakened, and we 
 fectionately. The most earnest attention, as we 
 ienderness and affection, appeared in the audience 
 versally. ‘Two persons publicly professed Christ, 
 
 “Toward night catechised. God made this a pe 
 ful season tosome. ‘There were many affected. 
 mer convictions appeared to be powerfully rey 
 There was likewise one, wha had been a vile drun 
 remarkably awakened. He appeared to be in 
 anguish of soul, wept, and trembled, and continu 
 do so till near midnight, There was also a poor h 
 laden soul, who had been long under heavy distre 
 constant, a pressing as I ever saw, who was 
 brought to a comfortable calm, and seemed 
 bowed and recorfciled to the divine sovereignty 
 told me she now felt and saw that it was righ 
 . God to do with her as he pleased; and that her’ 
 
 felt pleased and satisfied it should be $03, althoug 
 late she had often found her heart rise and quarrel 
 God because he would, ¢f he ae send her to 
 
| ‘ J ee es a rhea 
 } té 
 
 746.) AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. ~ 219 
 
 = 
 
 ‘ter all she had done. She added that the heavy 
 arden she had lain under was now removed ; that she 
 ad tried to recover her concern and distress again, — 
 aring that the Spirit of God was departing from her, 
 id would leave her wholly careless, but that she could 
 bt recover it; that she felt she never could do any 
 sing to save herself, but must perish for ever if Christ 
 d not do all for her; that she did not deserve he 
 hould help her ; and that it would be right if he should 
 ave her to perish. But Christ could save her though 
 e could do nothing to save herself, &c. and here she 
 emed to rest.” 
 
 h 
 
 Forks of Delaware, February, 1746. 
 Lérd@s day, Feb. 16.—“ Knowing that numbers of 
 e Indians in these parts were obstinately set against 
 hristianity ; ; and that some of them had refused to 
 ‘ar me preach in times past; I thought it might be * 
 oper and beneficial to the Christian interest here to 
 ve a number of my religious people from Cross- 
 eksung with me, to converse with them about reli- 
 us matters ; hoping it might be a means to convince 
 em of the truth and importance of Christianity, to 
 and hear some of their own nation discoursing of 
 vine things; and manifesting earnest desires that 
 ers might be brought out of heathenish darkness, 
 | themselves were. For this purpose I selected half 
 ozen of the most serious and intelligent of those 
 dians, and having brought them to the Forks of De- 
 jware, I this day met with them and the Indians of 
 tis place. Numbers of the latter probably could not 
 ve been prevailed upon to attend this meeting, had 
 inot been for these religious Indians who accompa- 
 d me hither, and preached to them, Some of those 
 
’ to be somewhat awakened, . manifested ¢ pa 
 
 ‘ 
 220 LIFE OF PRAINERD. (Chap 
 
 who had in times past been extremely averse to 
 tianity, now behaved soberly; and some others lai 
 and mocked. However, the word of God fel] wit! 
 weight and power, that numbers seemed to be stu 
 and expressed a willingness to hear me again of 
 matters. : 
 “Afterward prayed with, and made an address 
 “white people present ; and could not but observe 
 visible effects of the word, such as tears and 
 “among them. After publie worship, spent some 
 and took pains to convinee those that mocked ¢ 
 truth and importance of what I had been in: 
 upon ; and so endeavored to awaken their attenti 
 divine truth. Had reason to think, from what 
 served then and afterward, that my endeavors 
 considerable effect upon one of the worst of them 
 “ "These few Indians then present, who used 
 my hearers in these parts, some having removed 
 to Crossweeksung, seemed somewhat kindly dis 
 toward me, and glad to see me again. They had 
 so much attacked, however, by some of the opp 
 Pagans, that they were almost ashamed or afr 
 manifest their friendship. 
 Feb. 17.—“ After having spent much time i 
 coursing to the Indians in their respéctive hot 
 got them together and repeated cea 
 had before taught them. Afterward discourse 
 them from Acts, 8 : 5-8. A divine influence seem 
 attend the word. Several of the Indians here app 
 
 tears and sobs. My people of Crossweeksung 
 tinued with them day and night repeating and it 
 cating the truths I had taught them; and some 
 prayed and sung psalms among them; dis 
 
1746.] AT FORKS OF DELAWARE. 221 
 
 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 told 
 me, to have more effect upon them than when they 
 lirected their discourse immediately to them. 
 
 _ Feb. 18.—‘ Preached to an assembly of Irish peo- 
 ie nearly pai miles distant from the Indians. f 
 | Feb. 19.—“ Preached to the Indians again, after 
 aving spent considerable time in conversing with 
 hem more privately. ‘There appeared a great solem= 
 lity, and some concern and affection among the In- 
 ians belonging to these parts, as well as a sweet melt- 
 Es among those who came with me. Numbers of the 
 no. here seemed to have their prejudices and aver- 
 
 on to Christianity removed ; and appeared well dis- 
 ‘osed, and inclined to hear ie word of God. 
 | Feb. 20.—“ Preached to a small assembly of High 
 lutch people, who had seldom heard the Gospel 
 reached, and were some of them, at least, very igno- 
 ant ; but numbers of them have lately eee put upon 
 t inquiry after the way ef Salvation with thoughtful- 
 ess. They gave wonderful attention; and some of 
 em were much affected under the word, and after- 
 lard said, as F was informed, that they never had been 
 much enlightened about the way of Salvation in 
 et whole lives before. They requested me to tarry 
 ith them, or come again and preach to them. It 
 om me that I could not comply with their request, 
 
 ould not but be affected with their circumstances ; 
 ir they were as ‘sheep not having a shepherd,’ and 
 yme of them appeared under some degree of distress 
 v sin; standing in peculiar need of the assistance of 4 
 1 eecienced spiritual guide. 
 lad 21.—Preached to a number of people, many of 
 19* 
 
 | 
 
222 ] LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. VI 
 
 them Low Dutch. Several of the fore-mentioned Hi 
 Dutch people attended the sermon, though eight o | 
 ‘ miles distant from their houses. Numbers of t 
 dians also belonging to these parts came of their 0 
 “accord with my people from Crossweeksung, to 
 meeting. ‘There were two in particular who, thou 
 the last Sabbath they opposed and ridiculed ‘Chr 
 tianity, now behaved soberly. May the present ¢ 
 couraging appearances continue! 
 Feb. 22.—“ Preached to the Indians. They appear 
 more free from prejudice and more cordial to Chr 
 tianity than before; and some of them appeared ai 
 ed with divine truth. {4 
 Lord’s day, Feb. 23.—“ Preached to the Iné 
 from John, 6 : 35-37. After public service disco 
 particularly with several of them, and invited them) 
 go down to Crossweeksung and tarry there at least fi 
 some time; knowing that they would then be ff 
 
 i from the scoffs and temptations of the opposing 
 gans, as well as in the way of hearing divine 
 discoursed of, both in public and private. Obtaine 
 promise of some of them that they would speedily pa 
 us a visit, and attend some farther instructions. Tht 
 seemed to be considerably enlightened, and miu 
 freed from their prejudices against Christianity. 
 it is much to be feared that their prejudices will re} 
 again,unless they can enjoy the means of insirue 
 here, or be removed where they may be under sii¢ 
 
 advantages, and out of the: “atu of their Pagan 
 £ quaintances. , 
 1 ae Croasweeksung, March, 1746. 
 me's “March, 1.—“ Catechised in my ordinary meth 
 Was pleased and refreshed to see them answe 
 questions proposed to them with such remarkabl 
 
746.) AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 223 
 
 eadiness, discretion, and knowledge. Toward the 
 lose of my discourse divine truth made considerable 
 mpression upon the audience, and produced tears and 
 bs in some under concern ; and more especially a 
 weet and humble melting in several, who, I have rea- 
 bn to hope, were truly gracious. 
 ' Lord’s day, March 2.—Preached from John, 15: 16. 
 ‘he assembly appeared not so lively in their attention 
 s usual, nor so much affected with divine truth in 
 eneral as has been common. Some of my people 
 fae went up to the Forks of the Delaware with me, 
 2ing now returned, were accompanied by two of the 
 idians belonging to the Forks who had promised me 
 peedy visit. May the Lord meet with them here. 
 ey can scarcely go into a house now but they will 
 et with Christian conversation, whereby it is to be 
 ped they may be both instructed and awakened. 
 *Discoursed to the Indians again in the aftérnoon, 
 d observed among them some animation and enga- 
 dness in divine service, though not equal to what 
 Often appeared here. I know of no assembly of 
 Tistians where there seems to be so much of the 
 Sence.of God, where brotherly love so much pre- 
 ls, and where I should take so much delight in the 
 lic worship of God in general, as in My OWN con- 
 ation ; although not more than nine months ago, 
 by were worshipping devils and dumb idols under 
 > power of Pagan darkness and superstition. Amaz- 
 if change this! effected by nothing less than divine 
 iad and grace. This is the doing of the Lord, and 
 justly marvellous in our eyes. Fg 
 Warch 5.—“ Spent some time just at evening in 
 yer, singing and discoursing to my people upon di- ' 
 e things ; and observed some agreeable tenderness 
 
 | 
 
224 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. 
 
 and affection among them. ‘Their present situati 
 so compact and commodious, that they are easily 
 quickly called together with only the sound of a eo; 
 shell, (a shell like that of a periwinkle,) so that 1 
 have frequent opportunities of attending religious 
 ercises publicly. ‘This seems to be a great me 
 - under God, of keeping alive the eens of dit 
 things in their minds. 
 March 8.—“ Catechised in the evening. My pe 
 answered the questions proposed to them well. 1 
 perceive their knowledge in religion increases di 
 And, what is still more desirable, the divine influe 
 which has been so remarkable among them, app 
 still to continue, in some good measure. The di 
 presence seemed .to be in the assembly this ever 
 “Some, who I have good reason to think are C 
 tans indeed, were melted with a sense of divine g 
 ness and their own barrenness and ingratitude 
 . seemed to hate themselves, as one of them afte 
 expressed it. Convictions also appeared to be re} 
 in several instances; and divine truth was ati e! 
 with suth influence upon the assembly in general 
 it might justly,be called an evening of divine pow 
 Lords’ day, March 9.—“ Preached from Luke, 
 38-42. The word of God was attended with p 
 and energy upon the audience. Numbers were ai 
 ed, and concerned to obtain the one thing nee 
 Séveral, who have given good evidence of being 
 gracious, were much affected with a sense of their 
 of spirituality, and saw the need they stood inof g 
 ing in grace. The greater part of those who had 
 under any impressions of divine things in time 
 seemed now to have those impressions revived. 
 “Jn the afternoon proposed to have catechised 
 
746.) "a CONVERT. 225 
 
 iy usual method: but, while we were engaged in the 
 rst prayer in the Indian language, as usual, a great 
 ofthe assembly was so much moved and affected 
 ith divine things that I thought it seasonable and 
 yper to omit the proposing of questions for that time, 
 to insist upon the most practical truths. I ac- 
 rdingly did so; making a further improvement of 
 € passage of Scripture on which I had discoursed in 
 e former part of the day. There appeared to be a 
 werful divine influence in the congregation. Seve- 
 1 who, as I have reason to think, are truly pious, 
 = so deeply affected with a sense of their own bar- 
 ess, and their unworthy treatment of the blessed 
 leemer, that they looked on him as pierced by them- 
 yes, and mourned, yea, some of them were in. bit- 
 ess, as for a first-born. 
 “Some poor awakened sinners, also, appeared to be 
 ‘@nguish of soul to obtain an interest in Christ ; so 
 at there was a geal mourning in the dacemitly : 
 any heavy groans, sobs, and tears! and one or two, 
 fwly come among us, were considerably awakened. 
 * Methinks it would have refreshed the heart of eny, 
 oO truly love Zion’s interests, to have been in the 
 of this divine influence, and seen the effects of it 
 jon saints and sinners. The place of divine worship 
 ppeared both solemn and sweet; and was so endeared 
 
 bse who had any relish for divine things could not 
 ery, ‘How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of 
 is? After public worship was over, numbers came 
 my house, where we sang and discoursed of divine 
 mgs; and the presence of God seemed here also to 
 
 While we were singing there was one individual, 
 
226 LIFE OF BRAINERD. * [Chap. 
 
 the woman mentioned in my journal of Februe 
 who, I may venture to say, if I may be allowed c 
 so much of any person I ever saw, was ‘ filled wit 
 unspeakable and full of glory; .and could not but 
 forth in prayer and praises to God before us all, 
 many tears; crying, sometimes in English and § 
 times in Indian, ‘ O blessed Lord! do come, do ¢ 
 O do take me away; do let me, die, and go to 
 Christ !. Iam afraid if I live I shall sin again. — 
 let me die now! O dear Jesus, do come! I cannot 
 I cannot stay! O how can I live in this world ; do 
 my soul away from this sinful place! O let me nev 
 any more! O what shall I do, what shall I do, 
 sus. O dear Jesus! Yn this eestacy she cont 
 some time, uttering these and similar expressio! 
 cessantly. The grand argument she used with G 
 take her away immediately was, that ‘if she livet 
 should sin against him.’ When she had a little r 
 ered herself, I asked her if Christ was now swe 
 her soul? Whereupon, turning to me with tears i 
 eyes, and with all the tokens of deep humility I 
 saw in any person, she said, ‘I have many times 
 you speak of the goodness and the sweetness of C] 
 that he was better than all the world. But OT} 
 nothing what you meant. Inever believed you, 
 er believed you! But now I know it is true; or 
 to that effect. I answered, ‘And do you see enoug 
 Christ for the greatest of sinners?’ She repli 
 enough, enough for all the sinners in the world, i 
 “ would but come.’ When I asked her, ‘If she ¢ 
 not tell them of the goodness of Christ.’ 
 herself about to some Christless souls, who stoot 
 and were much affected, she said, ‘O there is en 
 in Christ for you if you would but come. O 
 & 
 
 ge 
 
746) A CONVERT, 227 
 
 rive to give up your hearts to him,’ &c._ On hearing 
 miething of the glory of heaven mentioned, that 
 (ere was no sin in that world; she again fell into the 
 me ecstacy of joy and desire of Christ’s coming; re- 
 sating her former expressions, ‘O dear Lord, do let 
 e go! O what shall I do; what shall I do. I want 
 goto Christ. I cannot veh: Odo lepine die,” &c. 
 She continued in this sweet frame for more than two 
 urs before she was able to get home. I am very 
 nsible that there may be great joys, arising even to 
 ecstasy, where there is still no substantial evidence 
 ‘their being well grounded. But in the present ease 
 ere seemed to be no evidence wanting in order to 
 ve this joy to be divine; either in regard to its pre- 
 atives, attendants, or consequents. 
 
 fall the persons whom I have seen under spiritual 
 reise I scarcely ever saw one appear more bowed 
 broken under convictions of sin and misery, or 
 iat is usually called a preparatory work, than this 
 an; nor scarcely any who seemed to. have a 
 ter acquaintance with their own heart than she 
 d. She would frequently complain to me of the 
 edness and rebellion of hcr heart. Would tell me 
 t her heart rose and quarrelled with God, when 
 
 +thdught he would do with her as he pleased, and 
 
 id her to hell, notwithstanding her prayers, good 
 
 es, &c., and that her heart was not willing to 
 
 e to Christ for Salvation, but tried every where 
 
 for help. As she seemed to be remarkably sensi- 
 
 of her stubbornness and contrariety to God, under 
 
 viction, so she appeared to be no less remarkably 
 
 ed and reconciled to his sovereignty, before she 
 
 ined any relief or comfort; something of which I 
 
 € noticed in my journal of Feb. 9. Since that time 
 
 _— 
 
 | 
 
 | 
 
ae be ’ 
 
 228 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. 
 
 she has seemed constantly to breathe the temper 
 spirit of the new creature; crying after Chris 
 through fear of hell as before, but with strong des 
 after him as her only satisfying portion ; and has m 
 times wept and sobbed bitterly because, as she af 
 hended, she did not and could not love him. Wh 
 have sometimes asked her why she appeared so 
 rowful, and whether it was because she was afra 
 hell; she would answer ‘No, I be not distressed al 
 that ; but my heart is so wicked I cannot love Chr 
 and thereupon burst into tears. But although t is 
 been the habitual frame of her mind for several w 
 together, so that the exercise of grace appeared evi 
 to others; yet she seemed wholly insensible to it 
 self, and never had any remarkable comfort and s 
 ble satisfaction until this evening. ia 
 “This sweet and surprising ecstasy appeare 
 spting from a true spiritual discovery of the ¢ 
 ravishing beauty, and excellency of Christ; an¢ 
 from any gross imaginary notions of his human né 
 such as that of seeing him in such a place, or p Os 
 as hanging on the cross, as bleeding and dying, as 
 ly smiling, and the like; which delusions some | 
 been carried away with. Nor did it rise from s¢ 
 selfish apprehensions of her having any benefit 
 soever conferred on her; but from a view of his 
 sonal excellency and transcendant loveliness; ¥ 
 _ @rew forth those vehement desires of enjoying 
 which she now manifested, and made her long * 
 absent from the body, that she might be present 
 the Lord.’ bei i Ai 
 “The attendants of this ravishing comfort were 
 as abundantly discovered its spring to be divine 
 that it was truly ‘a joy in the Holy Ghost.’ Nows! 
 
Men, 
 
 a CONVERT. 229 
 
 viewed divine truths as living realities, and could say, 
 ‘Iknow these things are so; [ feel that they are true!’ 
 Yow her soul was resigned to the divine will in the 
 nost tender point; so that when I said to her, ‘What 
 € God should take away your husband from you, who 
 ee then very sick, how do you think you could bear 
 iat?’ She replied, ‘He belongs to God, and not to me; 
 e may do with him just as he pleases.’ Now she had 
 fe most tender sense of the evil of sin, and discover- 
 the utmost aversion to it, longing to die, that she 
 light be delivered from it. Now she could freely 
 ‘ust her all with God for time and eternity. When I 
 uestioned her, ‘How she would be willing to die and 
 lave her little infant ; and what she thought would be- 
 me of it in that case?’ she answered, ‘God will take 
 we of it. It belongs to him. He will take care of 
 ' Now she appeared to have the most humbling 
 se of her own meanness and unworthiness, her 
 ‘eakness and inability to preserve herself from sin, 
 1 to persevere in the way of holiness, erying, ‘If I 
 velshail sin.” I then thought that I had never seen 
 ith an appearance of ecstacy and humility meeting 
 Jany one person in all my life before. 
 ‘The consequents of this joy are no less desirable 
 (i satisfactory than its attendants. She since appears 
 i be a most tender, broken-hearted, affectionate, de- 
 ' t, and humble Christian; as exemplary in life and 
 mversation as any person in my congregation. May 
 fe still ‘ grow in grace and in the knowledge of Christ.’ 
 (March 10. “Toward night the Indians met togeth- 
 f of their own accord, and sang, prayed, and discours- 
 fof divine things among themselves; at which time 
 Ere was much affection among them. Some, who 
 
 E> hopefully pious, appeared to be melted with divine 
 20 Brainerd. 
 
230 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [cn 
 
 things; and some others seemed much concerned | 
 their souls. Perceiving their engagement and afi 
 tion in religious exercises, I went among them, a 
 prayed, and gave a wor ‘of exhortation ; and obsery 
 two or three somewhat affected and concerned, w_ 
 scarce ever appeared to be under any religious impr | 
 sions before. It seemed to be a day and evening of | 
 vine power. Numbers retained the warm impale | 
 of divine things which had been made upon their mit | 
 the day before. .) 
 March 14.—“‘ Was visited by a considerable numbel 
 my people, and spent some time in religious exerci 
 with them. ] 
 
 March 15. “In the evening catechised. My 
 ple answered the questions put to them with s 
 ing readiness and judgment. There appeared 
 warmth, and a feeling sense of divine things 
 those who I have reason to hope are real Christi 
 while I was discoursing upon peace of conscience 
 joy in the Holy Ghost. These seemed quickened 
 enlivened in divine service, though there was ni 
 much appearance of concern among those who’ 
 have reason to think in a Christless state. 
 
 Lord’s day, March 16.—“ Preached to my con 
 gation from Hebrews, 2:1-3. Divine truth seem 
 have some considerable influence upon some of 
 hearers, and produced many tears, as well as 
 sighs and sobs, among those who have given evide 
 of being real Christians, and others also. The 
 pressions made upon the audience appeared in gen 
 deep and heart-affecting ; not superficial, noisy and 
 fected. 
 
 “Toward night discoursed again on the Great § 
 vation. The word was again attended with some pc 
 
 \ 
 
 a | 
 | 
 
eh oe 
 
 748.) AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 231 
 
 ‘ upon the audience. Numbers wept affectionately, 
 id to appearance unfeignedly ; so that the Spirit of 
 ‘od seemed to be moving upon the face of the assem- 
 ly. The woman mentioned in my journal of last 
 ord’s day made a profession of her faith, and appear- 
 ‘to be ina devout, humble, and excellent frame of 
 ind. 
 “My house being thronged with my people in the 
 ‘ening; I spent the time in religious exercises with 
 2m until my nature was almost spent. They are so 
 vere in religious exercises, and insatiable in their 
 tsting after Christian knowledge, that I can some- 
 thes scarcely avoid laboring so as greatly to exhaust 
 7 strength and spirits. 
 rch 19.—“ Several of the persons who went with 
 ‘to the Forks of Delaware in February last, having 
 ‘Imm detained there by the dangerous illness of one of 
 tar company, returned home but this day. Where- 
 ton my people generally met together of their own 
 
 ay 
 
 eord, in order to spend some time in religious exer- 
 
 ce ; and especially to give thanks to God for his pre- 
 Pie goodness to those who had been absent from 
 tm for several weeks, and recovering mercy to him 
 iy 9 had been sick; and that he had now returned them 
 ain safety. As I was then absent; they desired my 
 Sool-master to assist them in carrying on their reli- 
 : s solemnity; who tells me that they appeared en- 
 ved and affectionate in repeated prayer, singing, &c. 
 March 22.—“ Catechised in my usual method in the 
 ning. My people answered questions to my great 
 isfaction. There appeared nothing very remarkable 
 ithe assembly, considering what has been common 
 ongus. Although I may justly say the strict atten- 
 
 1, the tenderness and affection, the many tears and 
 
232 LIPE OF BRAINERD. [Chap 
 
 heart-affecting sobs, appearing in numbers in the 
 bly, would have been very remarkable, were it no 
 God has made these things common among u 
 even with strangers soon after their coming ame 
 from time to time. I am far from thinking that ¢ 
 appearance and particular instance of affectic 
 has been among us, has been truly genuine, and p 
 froma divine influence. Iamsensible of the con 
 and doubt not but there has been some corrupt mixty 
 some chaff as well as wheat ; especially since reli 
 concern, has become so common and prevalent he 
 Lord’s day, March 23.—* There being about j 
 strangers, adult persons, come among us in the we 
 past, several of whom had never been in any rel 
 meeting till now; I thought it proper to discours 
 day ina manner peculiarly suited to their cireumst 
 ces and capacities; and accordingly attempted it fi 
 Hosea, 13:9. ‘O Israel, thou hast destroyed thys 
 In the forenoon I opened, in the plainest manne 
 could, man’s apostacy and ruined state, after hay 
 spoken some things respecting the being and pew. 
 tions of God, and his creation of man in a state 0 
 rightness and happiness. In theafternoon endeavpy, 
 to open the glorious provision God has made for 
 redemption of apostate creatures, by giving his | 
 dear Son to suffer for them and satisfy divine just 
 on their behalf. There was not that affection ande 
 cern in the assembly which has been common amo 
 us; although there wasa desirable attention a ppe 7 
 in moneral: and even in most of the strangers. 
 “Near sun-set I felt an uncommon concern up¢ 
 mind, especially for the poor strangers; that 
 so much withheld his presence and the powerful 
 ence of his Spirit from the assembly in the exerei 
 
116.] AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 233 
 
 othe day; and thereby withheld from them that de- 
 g1e of conviction which I hoped they might have had. 
 | this frame I visited several houses, and discours- 
 » with some concern and affection to several per- 
 sis particularly; but without much appearance of 
 scess till I came to a house where several of the 
 sangers were. There the solemn truths on which I 
 icoursed appeared to take effect; first upon some 
 ¢Idren; then upon several adult persons who had 
 )n somewhat awakened before; and afterward up- 
 ) several of the Pagan strangers. 
 
 *I continued my discourse, with some fervency, un- 
 jnlmost every one in the house was melted into tears, 
 i many wept aloud, and appeared earnestly concern- 
 sto obtain an interest in Christ. Upon this, numbers 
 sn gathered from all the houses round about; and 
 sthronged the place that we were obliged to remove 
 «he house where we usually met for public worship. 
 e congregation gathered immediately, and many ap- 
 ‘ ing remarkably affected, I discoursed some time 
 if Luke, 19: 10; endeavoring to open the mercy, 
 Mapassion, and concern of Christ for lost, helpless, 
 undone sinners. There was much visible concern 
 il affection in the assembly ; and I doubt not but that 
 f Vine influence accompanied what was spoken to 
 F hearts of many. There were five or six of the 
 iingers, men and women, who appeared to be con- 
 erably awakened; and, in particular, one very rug- 
 young man, who seemed asif nothing would move 
 , Was now brought to tremble like the jailor, and 
 yp for a long time. ) 
 ‘The Pagans who were awakened, seemed at once 
 vut off their savage roughness ‘and Pagan manners, 
 |. became sociable, orderly and humane in their car- 
 B 20% 
 
234 - LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. 
 
 riage. When they first came, I exhorted my reli 
 people to take pains with them as they had done 
 other strangers from time to time, to instruct the 
 Christianity. But when some of them attem 
 something of that nature, the strangers wou.d soo 
 up and walk to other houses in order to avoid the 
 ing of such discourses. Whereupon some of th 
 Tious persons agreed to disperse themselves int 
 several parts of the settlement; so that whereve 
 strangers went, they met with some instructiv 
 course, and warm addresses respecting their salva 
 But now there was no need of using policy, in ¢ 
 to get an opportunity of conversing with some of f 
 about their spiritual concerns; for they were s 
 touched with a sense of their perishing state, as n 
 them voluntarily yield to the closest addresses y W 
 were made them,respecting their sin and misery, 
 need of an acquaintance with,and interest in the § 
 Redeemer. ; 
 
 March 24.—“Numbered the Indians to see how! 
 ny souls God had gathered together here since 
 coming into these parts; and found there were. 
 about an hundred and thirty persons together, old a 
 young. Several of woe} who are sh stated hea 
 
 would now Biv been very considerable; espe 
 considering how few were together at my f 
 into this part of the country: the whole r 
 amounting to ¢en persons at thattime. 
 
 “My people went out this day with the desig 
 clearing some of their land, above fifteen miles dis 
 from this settlement, in order to their settling ther 
 a compact form, where they might be under the ad 
 
he 
 Mie 
 Be ass 
 
 Ret 
 re] AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 235 
 
 ges of attending the public worship of God, of hay- 
 ig their children taught in a school, and at the same 
 par have a conveniency for planting: their land, in 
 e place of our present residence, being of little or no 
 ue for that purpose. The en of their settling 
 pe in a body, and cultivating their lands, of which 
 
 ey have done very little in their Pagan state, being 
 
 such necessity and importance to their eee in- 
 “ as well as worldly comfort; I thought it proper 
 
 all them together, and show fen the duty of labor- 
 iz with faithfulness and industry, and that they must 
 itnow ‘be slothful in business,’ as they had ever been 
 itheir Pagan state. I endeavored to press the impor- 
 e of their being laborious, diligent, and vigorous 
 
 sent juncture, the season of planting being now 
 ar, in order to their being in a capacity of living to- 
 per; and enjoying the means of eraee and instruc- 
 
 hvored to inculcate upon ea Dr. Watts’ Psalm, 
 
 If God to build the house deny &c. 
 
 having recommended them, and the design of their 
 & forth, to God, by prayer aa them, I dismissed 
 Im to their business. 
 In the evening read and expounded to those of my 
 pple who were yet at home, and to the strangers 
 ely come, the substance of the 3d chapter of the 
 is. Numbers seemed to melt under the word ; espe- . 
 ily while I was discoursing upon verse 19. ‘ Benen 
 \therefore, and be converted, &c. Several of the 
 ngers also were affected. When Lasked them after. 
 
236 LIFE OF BRAINERD. | 
 
 ward, whether they did not now feel that thei 
 were wicked, as I had taught them; one of them 
 plied, ‘ Yes, she felt it now.’ Although before sh 
 came here, upon hearing that I taught the Indians th: 
 their hearts were all bad by nature, and needed to} 
 changed and made good by the power of God ; she ha 
 said, ‘Her heart was not wicked, and she had ne 
 done any thing that was bad in her life.’ This, ind 
 seems to be the case with them, I think universall) 
 their pagan state. They seem to have no conse 
 ness of sin and guilt, unless they can charge th 
 selves with some gross acts of sin contrary to the ¢ 
 mands of the second table.’ 
 March 27.—* Discoursed to a number of my peopl 
 in one of their houses in a more private manner. - 
 quired particularly into their spiritual states, in orde 
 to see what impressions they were under. Laid be 
 them the marks of a regenerate, as well as of an u 
 generate state ; and endeavored to suit and direc 
 discourse to them severally, according as I 2 
 hended their states to be. ‘There were a considerabl 
 number gathered together before I finished my dis 
 course; and several seemed much affected while I} 
 urging the necessity and infinite importance of gettin 
 into a renewed state. I find particular and close d 
 ing with souls in private is often very successf 
 March 29.—“ In the evening catechis 
 upon Saturday. ‘Treated upon the benefit 
 lievers receive from Christ at death. 
 were answered with great readiness a 
 and those who I have reason to think are the 
 people of God were in general sweetly melted. ‘Ther 
 appeared such a liveliness and in their attendal 
 upon the word of God, and such eagerness to be 
 
 4 g. a” Pe 5 Rs 
 
~ eee AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 237 
 
 rs of the benefits mentioned, that they seemed 
 
 ee be ‘looking for,’ but shai to, the com- 
 g of the day of God.’ Divine truths seemed to distil 
 mm the audience with a gentle but melting efficacy, 
 the refreshing ‘ showers upon the new mown grass.’ 
 ae assembly in general, as well as those who appear 
 ily religious, were affected with some brief accounts 
 the blessedness of the godly at death; and most of 
 
 a then discovered an affectionate inclination to cry 
 et me die the death of the righteous, and let my last 
 d be like his; although many were not duly en- 
 d to obtain uc change of heart that is necessary 
 hat blessed end. 
 Lord's day, March 39.—“Discoursed from Matt. 25: 
 40. There was a very considerable moving, and 
 »etionate melting, in the assembly. I hope that there 
 re some real, deep, and abiding impressions of divine 
 ags made upon the minds of many. There was one 
 *d man, newly come among us, who appeared to be 
 “siderably awakened that never was touched with 
 7 concern for his soul before. In the evening cate- 
 sed. There was not that tenderness and melting 
 vagement among God’s people which appeared the 
 ming before, and many other times. They answered 
 questions distinctly, and well, and were devout and 
 (mtive in divine service. 
 uch 31.—“ Called my people together, as I had 
 Monday evening before, and discoursed to 
 ‘in on the necessity and importance of labor- 
 striously i in order to their living together, and 
 ‘the means of grace, &c. Having engaged in 
 
 emn prayer to God among them for a blessing 
 nici attempts, I dismissed them to their work. 
 mbers of them, 1 men and women, seemed to 
 
238 _ LIFE OF BRAINERD. 
 
 appeared ctionately concerned that Q 
 with the: a, and begin their little town for them; 
 
 by his blessing it might be a place comfortable 
 them and theirs, with regard both to procuri 
 necessaries of life and to attending on the wo 
 of God. 
 April 5.—“ Catechised in the evening. The 
 peared to be some affection and fervent engagement 
 divine service through the assembly in general ; es, 
 cially toward the conclusion of my discourse. A 
 public worship a number of those who I have reasi 
 to think are truly religious came to my house, a 
 seemed eager for some farther entertainment upo! 
 vine things. While I was conversing with them at 
 their scriptural exercises ; observing to them, that G 
 work in the hearts of all his children was, for substa 
 the same; and that their trials and temptations 
 also alike ; and showing the obligations such were 0 
 der to love one another in a peculiar manner, thi 
 seemed to be melted into tenderness and affection1 
 ward each other. I thought that that particular to 
 of their being the disciples of Christ, viz. of their ha 
 ing love one toward another, had scarcely evera 
 peared more evident than at this time. 
 Lord’s day, April 6.—“ Preached from Matt. 7:5 
 23. There were considerable effects of the word 
 ble in the audience, and such as were very desira 
 an earnest attention, a great solemnity, many 
 and heavy sighs, which were modestly suppresst 
 - aconsiderable measure, and appeared unaffec 
 without any indecent commotion of the 
 Numbers of the religious people were put upon seri¢ 
 and close examination of their spiritual state by hee 
 
AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 239 
 
 i. every one that saith to Christ, Lord, Lord, 
 en his kingdom.’ Some expressed fare 
 ey had eceived themselves, and taken up a false 
 
 ill of his Father who is in heaven. 
 
 “There was one man brought under a very great 
 ind pressing concern for his soul; which appeared 
 nore especially after his Seton from public wor- 
 jhip. That which he says gave him his great uneasi- 
 a was, not so much any particular sin, as that he 
 
 f t 
 “ 
 
 jad never done the will of God at all, but had sinned 
 ontinually, and so had no claim to the kingdom of 
 
 zaven. In the afternoon I opened to them the disci- 
 line of Christ in his Church, and the method in which 
 ffenders are to be dealt ity at which time the re- 
 iigious people were much affected; especially when 
 | = heard that the offender, continuing obstinate, must 
 
 ily be esteemed and treated ‘as an heathen man,’ 
 Sa pagan, who has no part nor lot among God’s visi- 
 e people. Of this they seemed to have the most awful 
 Ppeccesios 5 a state of heathenism, out of which 
 ney were so lately brought, appearing very dreadful 
 Peate 
 fc After public worship I visited several houses to 
 2e how they spent the remainder of the Sabbath, and 
 ‘treat with them solemnly on the great concerns of 
 leir souls. The Lord seemed to smile upon my pri- 
 te endeavors, and to make these particular and per- 
 al addresses more effectual upon some than my 
 ic pp ourses: 
 il 7.—“ Discoursed to my people in the evening, 
 m 1 Cor. 11 : 23-26, Endeavored to open to them 
 € institution, nature, and ends of the Lord’s Supper, 
 well as of the qualifications and preparations neces- 
 
 1 
 
 | 
 
 i 
 I 
 
 | a 
 
240 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (chap. 
 
 sary to the right participation of that ordinance. 7 
 bers appeared much affected with the love of C 
 manifested in his making this provision for the cor 
 of his people, at a season when himself was just e 
 ing upon his sharpest sufferings. 
 Lord’s day, April 20.—“ Discoursed, both fore; 
 and afternoon, from Luke, 24; explaining m 
 the chapter, and making remarks upon it. There 
 a desirable attention in the audience ; though the 
 not so much appearance of affection and tende 
 among them as had been usual. Our meeting was} 
 full; there being sundry strangers present who 
 never been with us before. ‘ 
 “In the evening catechised. My people answi 
 the questions proposed to them readily and distin 
 and I could perceive that they advanced in their kn 
 ledge of the principles of Christianity. There app 
 an affectionate melting in the assembly at this t 
 Several, who I trust are truly religious, were refre 
 and quickened, and seemed by their discourse 
 behavior after public worship to have their ‘h 
 knit together in love” This was a sweet and ble 
 season, like many others with which my poor pe 
 have been favored in months past. God has cat 
 this little fleece to be repeatedly wet with the b 
 dew of his divine grace, while all the earth around 
 been comparatively dry. , 
 . April 25 —“ Set apart this day, as preparatory 
 administration of the Lord’s Supper, for solemn fas 
 and prayer. The design was to implore the bles 
 of God upon our renewing covenant with him, 
 with one another, to walk together in the fear of € 
 in love and christian fellowship, and to entreat that 
 presence might be with us in our designed approa¢ 
 
746.) _ AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 241 
 
 is table ; as well as to humble ourselves before God on 
 scount of the apparent withdrawment, at least in @ 
 jeasure, of that blessed influence which has been so 
 revalent upon persons of all ages among us; as also 
 2 account of the rising appearance of carelessness, 
 unity, and vice, among some who once appearea tv 
 > touched and affected with divine truth, and brought 
 ) some sensibility of their miserable and perishing 
 ate by nature. It was also designed that we might 
 aportunately pray for the peaceable settlement of the 
 idians together in’a body ; that they might be a com- 
 odious congregation for the worship of God; and 
 iat God would defeat all the attempts that were, or 
 ight be, made against that pious design.* 
 
 “The solemnity was observed and seriously attend- 
 i, not only by those who proposed to commune at 
 ie Lord’s table, but by the whole congregation. In 
 ie former part of the day I endeavored to open to 
 y people the nature and design of a fast, as I had 
 tempted more briefly to do before, and to instruet 
 en in the duties of such a solemnity. In the after- 
 on I insisted on the special reasons there were for 
 engaging in these solemn exercises at this time ; 
 th in regard to the need we stood in of divine assist- 
 ice, in order to a due preparation for that sacred 
 dinance, upon which some of us were proposing, 
 
 ‘There was at this time a terrible clamor raised against the 
 dians in various places in the country, and insinuations as 
 ugh I was training them up to cut people’s throats. Num- 
 3 wished to have them banished from these parts, and some 
 ¥e out great words in order to fright and deter them from 
 ing upon the best and most convenient tract of their own 
 ads ; threatening to trouble them in the law; pretending a 
 im to these lands themselves, although never purchased of 
 
 9] Brainerd 
 
 ‘ 
 
aes q 
 , } 
 
 242 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. 
 
 with leave of divine Providence, speedily to attend 
 and also in respect of the manifest decline of 
 work here, as to the effectual conviction and conve 
 sion of sinners ; there having been few of late de 
 awakened out of a state of security. The worshi 
 God was attended with great solemnity and rever 
 with much tenderness and many tears, by those 
 appeared to be truly religious ; and there was soméa 
 pearance of divine power upon those who had 
 awakened some time before, and who were still u 
 concern. - 
 “After repeated prayer, and attendance upon 
 word of God, I proposed to the religious people, 
 as much brevity and plainness as I could, the subst 
 of the doctrine of the christian faith, as I had forn 
 done; and had their renewed cheerful assent to it 
 then led them to a solemn renewal of their cove 
 wherein they had explicitly and publicly given 
 themselves to God the Father, Son, and Holy G@ 
 avouching him to be their God; and at the same 
 renouncing their heathenish vanities, their idolai 
 and superstitious practices ; solemnly engaging to 
 the Word of God, so far as it was or might be 
 known to them, for the rule of their lives; prom 
 to walk together in love, to watch over themselves 
 one another, to lead lives of seriousness and devo 
 and to discharge the relative duties incumbent on t 
 respectively, &c. This solemm transaction was att 
 ed with much gravity and seriousness ; and at the 
 time with the utmost readiness, freedom and chee! 
 ness ; and a religious union and harmony of soul seem 
 €1 to crown the whole solemnity. I could not 
 think in the evening, that there had been manifes 
 tokens of the divine presence with us in a/! the sey 
 
Wh ins gin 3 \e 3 
 
 i 
 
 746]. THE LORD’S SUPPER. 243 
 
 xvices of the day; though it was also manifest that 
 tere was not that concern among Christless’ souls 
 hich has often appeared here. 
 _ April 26.—“ Toward noon prayed with a dying child, 
 ad gaye a word of exhortation to the bystanders to 
 repare for death; which seemed to take effect upon 
 me. In the afternoon discoursed to my people from 
 latthew, 26: 26-30; of the author, the nature, and de- 
 ens of the Lord’s supper; and endeavored to point 
 ut the worthy receivers of that ordinance. The re- 
 gious people were affected, and even melted with di- 
 ne truth,—with a view of the dying love of Christ. 
 vveral others, who had been for some months under 
 myictions of their perishing state, appeared now to 
 + much moved with concern, and afresh engaged in 
 eking after an interest in Christ; although I cannot 
 yt that the word of God Rais so quick and pow- 
 ful, so sharp and piercing to the assembly, as it had 
 metimes formerly done. 
 “Tn the evening I catechised those who were de-. 
 ned to partake of the Lord’s supper the next day, 
 yon the institution, nature and end of that ordinance; 
 d had abundant satisfaction respecting their doctri- 
 knowledge and fitness in that respect for an attend- 
 ‘ce upon it. They likewise appeared in general to 
 ve an affecting sense of the solemnity of this sacred 
 dinance, and to be humbled under a sense of their 
 unworthiness to approach to God in it; and to be 
 nestly concerned that they might be duly prepared 
 an attendance upon it. Their hearts were full of 
 @ ohe toward another, and that was the frame of 
 ud they seemed concerned to maintain and bring to 
 >Lord’s table with them. In the singing and prayer 
 
 er catechising, there appeared an agreeable tender- 
 
244 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [onap. Vi 
 
 ness and melting among tliem; and such toke i 
 brotherly love and affection as would even cons 
 
 Lord’s day, April 27.—“Preached from Tit. 2: 
 ‘Who gave himself for us,’ &c. The word of God 
 this time, was attended with some appearance of di 
 power upon the assembly; so that the attention 
 gravity of the audience were remarkable; and é€ 
 cially toward the conclusion of the exercise, many’ 
 sons were much affected. Administered the Lor 
 supper to ¢wenty three persons of the Indians, then 
 ber of the men and women being nearly equal; : 
 ral others, to the number of five or siz, being now 
 sent at the Forks of Delaware, who would othe 
 have communed with us.- The ordinance was att 
 ed with great solemnity, and with a most desirable’ 
 derness and affection.. It was remarkable that du 
 the administration of the ordinance, especially in 
 distribution of the bread, they seemed to be affect 
 a most lively manner, as if Christ had been really 
 cified before them. ‘The words of the institution, W 
 repeated and enlarged upon in the season of the 
 ministration, seemed to meet with the same recep 
 to be entertained with the same free and full belief 
 affectionate engagement of soul, as if the Lord Je 
 Christ himself had been present, and had person 
 spoken tothem. The affections of the communicant 
 although considerably raised, were, notwithstand 
 agreeably regulated and kept within proper boui 
 So that there was a sweet, gentle, and affectionate m 
 ing, without any indecent or boisterous bien 
 the passions. 
 
 “Having rested sometime after the administre 
 
. 
 1746.] THE LORD’S SUPPER. _ 245 
 
 of the Supper, being extremely tired with the necessary 
 orolixity of the work, I walked from house to house, 
 md conversed particularly with most of the commu- 
 uicants, and found they had been almost universally 
 ‘efreshed at the Lord’s table, ‘as with new wine.’ Nev- 
 x did ‘I see such an appearance of Christian love 
 mong any people in all my life. It was so remarka- 
 dle, that one might well have cried with an ueneeable 
 urprise, ‘ Behold how they love one another. I think 
 here could be no greater tokens of mutual affection 
 mong the people of God, in the early days of Chris- 
 ianity, than what now appeared here. The sight was 
 0 desirable, and so well becoming the gospel, that no- 
 hing less could be said of it than it was ‘the doing of 
 Lord,’ the genuine operation of Him, ‘ who is Love.’ 
 “Toward night discoursed again on the foremention- 
 d text, Tit. 2:14; and insisted on the immediate end 
 nd design of Christ’s death: viz. That he might re- 
 eem his people from all iniquity, &c. This appeared 
 )bea season of divine power among us. The religi- 
 us people were much refreshed, and seemed remark- 
 aly tender and affectionate, full of love, joy, and peace, 
 ad desirous of being ees siee redeemed from all 
 iguity ;’ so that some of them afterward told me that 
 ey had never fe!t the like before.’ Convictions also 
 ypeared to be revived in many instances; and several 
 brsons were awakened whom fF had never observed 
 ader any religious impressions before. 
 « Such was the influence which attended our assem- 
 7, and so unspeakably desirable the frame of mind 
 ich many enjoyed in divine service, that it seemed 
 ost grievous to conclude the public worship. The 
 ingregation, when dismissed, although it was then 
 
 poet dark, appeared loth to ive the place and em- 
 Aer 
 
246. LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. ¥ 
 
 ployments which had been rendered so dear to 
 by the benefits enjoyed, while a blessed quickening 
 fluence distilled upon them. Upon the whole, In 
 say, I had great satisfaction relative to the adminis! 
 tion of this ordinance in various respects. I have ab 
 dant reason to think, that those who came to the Le 
 table had a good degree of doctrinal knowledge of 
 nature and design of the ordinance, and that they ae} 
 with understanding in what they did. 
 “In the preparatory services I found, I may justh 
 say, uncommon freedom in opening to their ur 
 standings and capacities, the covenant of grace, ar 
 showing them the zature of this ordinance. 
 were likewise thoroughly sensible that it was no mor 
 than a sign, and not the real body and blood of Chri 
 that it was designed for the refreshment and edi 
 tion of the soul, and not for the feasting of the body 
 They were also acquainted with the end of the of 
 nance, that they were therein ealled’to commemo! 
 the dying love of Christ. 
 “ This competency of doctrinal knowledge, to 
 with their grave and decent attendance upon the 
 nance, their affectionate melting under it, and the sw 
 and Christian frame of mind which they discove 
 after it, gave me great satisfaction réspecting my 
 ministration of it to them. O, what a sweet and bles 
 season was this! God himself, I am persuaded, we 
 the-midst of his people. I doubt not but many, in 
 conclusion of the day, could say with their w 
 hearts, ‘ Verily, a day thus spent in God’s hous 
 better than a thousand elsewhere.? There seemed 
 be but one heart among the pious people. Thes 
 union, harmony and endearing love and tendern 
 subsisting among them was, I thought, the most livel 
 
1746.) AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 247 
 
 »mblem of the heavenly world which I had ever seen. 
 _ April 28.—“ Concluded the solemnity of the Lord’s 
 upper with a discourse upon John, 14:15. ‘If ye 
 ove me, keep my commandments.’ At this time there 
 ppeared a very agreeable tenderness in the audience 
 1 general, but especially in the communicants. O, how 
 ee, how engaged and affectionate did these appear in 
 ae service of God ! they seemed willing to have their 
 as bored to the door posts of God’s house, and to be 
 is servants for ever. i 
 “Observing numbers in this excellent frame, and the 
 isembly in general affected, and that by a divine in- 
 tence, I thought it proper to improve this advanta- 
 sous season as Hezekiah did the desirable season of 
 S great passover, 2 Chron. 31, in order to promote 
 blessed reformation begun among them; and to en-. 
 e those that appeared serious and religious to per- 
 ere therein. Accordingly I proposed to them, that 
 ey should renewedly enter into covenant before God, 
 ut they would watch over themselves and one ano- 
 , lest they should dishonor the name of Christ by 
 ing into sinful and unbecoming practices ; and espe- 
 lly that they would watch against the sin of drunk- 
 ess, ‘the sin that easily besets them,’ and the temp- 
 ions leading thereto, as well as the appearance of evil 
 that respect. They cheerfully complied with the pro- 
 al, and explicitly joined in that covenant ; where- 
 n I proceeded in the most solemn manner of which 
 
 yas capable, to call God to witness respecting their 
 red engagements, and reminded them of the great- 
 ' of the guilt they would contract to themselves in 
 Violation of it, as well as observed to them that God 
 juld be a terrible witness against those, who should 
 sume to do so in the great and notable day of. the 
 
248 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. Vi 
 
 Lord. It was a season of amazing solemnity; and 
 divine awe appeared upon the face of the whole ass 
 bly in this transaction. Affectionate sobs, sighs ¢ 
 tears were now frequent in the audience; and I de 
 ‘ not but that many silent cries were then sent up te 
 Fountain of grace for supplies of grace sufficien' 
 the fulfilment of these solemn engagements. 
 Lord’s day, May4.—“ My people being now rer 
 ed to their lands, mentioned in my diary of Mareh 
 where they were then and have since been ma 
 provision for a compact settlement, in order to tl 
 more convenient enjoyment of the Gospel and 0 
 means of instruction, as well as of the comforts of 
 I this day visited them ; being now obliged to b 
 with an English family at some distance from th 
 and preached to them in the forenoon from Mark 
 - 5. Endeavored to show them the reason there wa 
 fear, lest many promising appearances and hopefu! 
 ginnings in religion might prove abortive, like 
 seed dropped upon stony places. 
 
 “ Ty the afternoon discoursed upon Rom. 8: 9. ‘Noy 
 if any man have not the spirit of Christ, he is nor 
 his” I have reason to think this discourse was p 
 liarly seasonable, and that it had a good effect 
 some of the hearers. Spent some hours afterwai 
 private conference with my people, and labored 
 culate some things which I apprehended amiss am 
 some of them. ‘ 
 
 May 5.—* Visited my people again, and took ¢2 
 their worldly concerns; giving them directions r 
 ting to their business. I daily discover more and 
 of what importance it is likely to be to their re igi 
 interests, that they become laborious and indust 
 acquainted with the affairs of husbandry, and ab 
 
ki AT CRANBERRY. 249 
 
 yod measure to raise the necessaries and comforts of 
 je within themselves; for their present method of 
 ving greatly > 3 them to he a of various 
 nds. 
 May y 9.—“ reacted from John, Bi 40, in the open 
 ilderness ; the Indians having as yet no house for 
 iblic worship in this place, nor scarcely any shelters 
 rthemselves. Divine truths made considerable im- 
 fessions upon the audience, and it was a season of 
 eat solemnity, tenderness, and affection. 
 “This day received into communion the conjurer, 
 &c. mentioned in my diary of August 8, 
 45, and February 1, 1746, who appears to be such a 
 arkable instance of divine grace that I cannot omit 
 ‘ive some brief account of him here. He lived near, 
 d sometimes attended my meeting at the Forks of 
 ware, for more than a year; but was, like many 
 s of them, extremely attached to strong drink, 
 seemed to be in no degree reformed by the means 
 lich I used with them for their instruction and con- 
 ion. At this time he likewise murdered a likely 
 ung Indian, which threw him into some kind of 
 Tror and desperation, so that he kept at a distance 
 m me, and refused to hear me preach for several 
 ths together, until I had an opportunity of con- 
 rsing freely with him, and giving him encourage- 
 nt, that his sin might be forgiven, for Christ’s sake. 
 é this he again attended my meeting sometimes. 
 But that which was the worst of all his conduct, 
 ts his conjuration. He was one of those who are 
 netimes called powaws among the Indians; and, 
 Withstanding his frequent attendance upon my 
 ching, he still followed his old charms and jug- 
 ng tricks, ‘ giving out that himself was some great 
 
 ~ 
 
250 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. 
 
 one, and to him they gave heed,’ supposing him 
 possessed of great power. When I have instr 
 them respecting the miracles wrought by Chri 
 healing the sick, &c. and mentioned them as evid 
 of his divine mission, and the truths of his doett 
 they have quickly observed the wonders of that 
 which this man had performed by his magic cha 
 Hence they had a high opinion of him and his su 
 stitious notions ; which seemed to be a fatal obst 
 tion to some of them in regard to their receiving 
 Gospel. I had often thought that it would be a g 
 favor to the design of evangelizing these India) 
 God would take that wretch out of the world ; for I 
 searcely any hope of his ever becoming good. 
 God, whose thoughts are not as man’s thoughts, 
 been pleased to take a much more desirable met 
 with him; a method agreeable to his own mer 
 nature, and I trust advantageous to his own inte 
 among the Indians, as well as effectual to the salva 
 of his poor soul. To God be the glory of it. . 
 
 “ The first genuine concern for his soul was ex 
 by seeing my interpreter and his wife publicly pro 
 Christ, at the Forks of Delaware, July 21, 1745; w 
 so prevailed upon him, that with the invitation o} 
 Indian who was a friend to Christianity, he folle 
 me down to Crossweeksung, in the beginning of 
 gust, in order to hear me preach ; and there conti! 
 for several weeks in the season of the most remarké 
 and powerful awakening among the Indians; at wl 
 time he was more effectually awakened, and bro 
 under great concern for his soul. And et en hes 
 upon his ‘feeling the word of God in his heart,’ ash 
 expresses it, his spirit of conjuration left him entirel 
 so that he has had no more power of that nature sim 
 
= 
 
 46. J CONVERSION OF A CONJURER. 251 
 
 an any other man living. He also declares, that he 
 es not now.so much as know how he used to charm 
 d conjure, and that he could not now do any thing 
 that nature if he were ever so desirous of it. 
 “He continued under convictions of his sinful and 
 rishing state, and a considerable degree of concern 
 his soul, all the fall and the former part of the win- 
 past ; but was not so deeply exercised until some 
 Win January. Then the word of God fook such 
 ld upon him that he was brought into deep distress, 
 i knew not what to do, nor where to turn inkl. 
 ‘then told me, that when he used to hear me preach 
 m time to time in the fall of the year, my preaching 
 his heart, and made him very — but did 
 bring him to so great distress, because’ he still 
 ned he could do something for “ own relief ; but 
 wv, he said, I drove him up in such a sharp corner, 
 the had no way to turn, and could not avoid being 
 listress. He continued constantly under the heavy 
 den and pressure of a wounded spirit, until at length 
 a brought into the acute anguish and utmost 
 of soul, mentioned in my Journal of February 
 hich continued that night and part of the next day. 
 this he was brought to the utmost calmness and 
 sure of mind ; his trembling and heavy burden 
 removed ; and he appeared perfectly sedate, al- 
 igh he had to his apprehensions scarcely any hope 
 vation. 
 Pobserved him to appear remarkably composed ; 
 | therefore asked him how he did? He replied, 
 s done, it is done, it is all done now, ‘Tasked him 
 he meant? He answered, ‘I can never do any 
 e to save myself; it is all dend for ever. I can do 
 More.’ I queried with him, whether he could not 
 
252 LIFE OF-BRA{NERD. (Ch 
 
 do a little more, rather than go to hell? He rep) 
 ‘my heart is dead. 4 can never help myself? I ask 
 him what he thought would become of him th 
 He answered, ‘I must go to hell.’ I asked himif 
 thought it was right that God should send him to he 
 He replied, ‘O it is right. The devil has been ij 
 ever since I was born.’ I asked him if he felt this 
 he was in such great distress the evening before 
 answered, ‘No; I did not then think it was righ 
 thought God would send me to hell, and that 
 then dropping into it; but my heart quarrelled ¥ 
 God, and would not say it was right he should se 
 me there. But now I know it is right ; for I hay 
 ways served the devil; and my heart has no go¢ 
 in it now, but it is as bad as ever it was,’ &e. I thous 
 I had scarcely ever seen any person more effectua 
 _ brought off from a dependanece upon his own ¢ 
 vances and endeavors for salvation, or more app al 
 to lie at the foot of sovereign mercy, than thi 
 did under these views of things. 
 “Tn this frame of mind he continued for s 
 days, passing sentence of condemnation upon hi 
 and constantly owning that it would be right hes 
 be damned, and that he expected this would be’ 
 portion for the greatness of his sins. Yet it was 
 that he had a secret hope of mercy, though imp 
 tible to himseif, which kept him not only from ¢ 
 but from any pressing distress: so that, instead 
 ing sad and dejected, his very countenance app 
 pleasant and agreeable. 
 “ While he was in this frame he several tim 
 me ‘ When I would preach again?’ and seemed 
 sirous to hear the word of God every day. Iz 
 ‘Why he wanted to hear me preach, seeing hi 
 
i. a“ 
 
 ; 
 1746.) CONVERSION OF @ CONJURER. 253 
 
 -was dead; and all was done; that he could never help 
 himself, and expected that he must go to hell? He 
 replied, ‘I love to hear you speak about Christ for all? 
 Tadded, ‘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 labored in the 
 ‘best manner I could to represent to him the excellency y 
 of Christ, his all-sufficiency and willingness to save 
 sinners, and persons just in his case; although to 
 nO purpose, as to yielding him any special comfort. 
 de answered, ‘I would have others come to Christ, if 
 must go to hell myself.’ It was remarkable, that he 
 med to have a great love for the people of God; and 
 ing affected him so much as the thought of being 
 ated from them. This seemed to bea very dread- 
 part of the heil to which he saw himself doomed. 
 it was likewise remarkable, that in this season he was 
 t diligent in the use of all the means for the 
 soul’s salvation; although he had the clearest view ot 
 he inefficiency 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 
 ecret and family prayer daily, and surprisingly dili- 
 gent and attentive in hearing the word of God; so that 
 fe neither despaired of mercy, nor yet presumed to 
 lope upon his own doings, but used means because 
 appointed of God in order to salvation ; and because 
 1€ would wait upon God in his own ae 
 
 _“ After he had continued in this frame of mind more 
 han a week, while I was discoursing publicly, he 
 seemed to have a lively soul-refreshing view of the 
 xcellency of Christ and the way of salvation by him, 
 which melted him into tears, and fill2d him with ad- 
 
 iration, comfort, satisfaetion and praise to God. 
 22 Brainerd. 
 
254 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. 
 
 Since then he has appeared to be a humble, deve 
 and affectionate christian ; serious and exemplary 
 his conversation and behavior, frequently complait 
 of his barremness, his want of spiritual warmth, Ii 
 and activity, and yet frequently favored with quicker 
 ing and refreshing influences. In all respects, s 
 asIam capable of judging, he bears the marks: 
 one ‘created anew in Christ Jesus to good works.” 
 “His zeal for the cause of God was pleasing to m 
 when he was with me at the Forks of Delaware 
 February last. There being an old Indian at the p 
 where I preached who threatened to bewitch me, | 
 my religious people who accompanied me there ; 
 man presently challenged him to do his worst, tellin, 
 him that himself had been as great a conjurer as lie 
 and that notwithstanding, as soon as he felt that w 
 in his heart which these people loved, meaning 
 word of God, his power of conjuring immediately lei 
 him. ‘ And so it would you,’ said he, ‘if you did bu 
 once feel it in your heart; and you have no powert 
 hurt them, nor so much as to touch one of them,’ 
 So that I may conclude my account of him by obs 
 ing, in allusion to what was said of St. Paul, that 
 now zealously ‘defends and practically preach 
 faith which he once destroyed,’ or at least was instru 
 mental in obstructing. May God have the glory of tht 
 amazing change which he has wrought inhim. 
 Lord’s day, May 18.—“ Discoursed both parts of th 
 day from Rev. 3: 20, ‘ Behold I stand at the door a 
 knock.’ There appeared some affectionate melting 
 toward the conclusion of the forenoon exercise, al 
 one or two instances of fresh awakening. In the in nr 
 mission of public, worship I took occasion to discour 
 to numbers i in a more private way, on the kindnes 
 
tie al 
 
 | 
 1746. ] AT CRANBERRY. 255 
 
 om patience of the blessed Redeemer in standing and 
 cocking, in continuing his gracious calls to sinners, 
 who had long neglected and abused his grace; which 
 jeemed to take some effect upon several. 
 
 _ “Tn the afternoon divine truth was attended with so- 
 emnity, and with some tears; although there was not 
 hat powerful awakening and quickening influence 
 vhich in times past has been common in our assemblies. 
 (he appearance of the audience was comparatively dis- 
 ouraging, and I was ready to fear that God was about 
 Withdraw the blessed influence of his Spirit from us. 
 May 19.—“ Visited and preached to my people from 
 s, 20: 18, 19, and endeavored to rectify their notions 
 t religious affections; showing them on the one 
 and the desirableness of religious affection, tenderness 
 d fervent engagement in the worship cad service of 
 rod, when such affection flows from a true spiritual 
 scovery of divine glories, from a just sense of the 
 ‘anscendant excellence and perfections of the blessed 
 d, and a view of the glory and loveliness of the 
 reat Redeemer; and that such views of divine things 
 ill naturally excite us to ‘serve the Lord with many 
 ars, With much affection and fervency, and yet with 
 humility of mind.” On the other hand,I observed 
 ie sinfulness of seeking after high affections imme- 
 tely and for their own sakes; that is, of making 
 sl object which our eye and heartis first and prin- 
 
 y set upon, when the glory of God ought to be that 
 yject. Showed them,that, if the heart be directly and 
 a fixed on God, and the soul engaged to glorify 
 
 , some degree of religious affection will be the ef- 
 and attendant of it. But to seek after affection 
 y and chiefly ; to have the heart principally set 
 pon that; is to place it in the room 3 God and his 
 | 
 
256 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. ¥ 
 
 glory. If it be sought, that others may take notie 
 it, and admire us for our spirituality and forwa ‘ 
 in religion, it is then abominable pride; if for the s 
 of feeling the pleasure of being affected, it is then i¢ 
 atry and self-gratification. Labored also to expose 
 disagreeableness of those affections which are so 
 times wrought up in persons by the power of faney, ¢ 
 their own attempts for that purpose, while I still 
 deavored to recommend to them that religious eff 
 tion, fervency and devotion which ought to attend 
 our religious exercises, and without which religion } 
 be but an empty name and lifeless carcase. ‘This 
 peared to bea seasonable discourse, and proved V 
 satisfactory to some of the religious people who bet 
 were exercised with some difficulties relating to1 
 point. Afterward took care of, and gave my peo 
 directions about their worldly affairs. 
 May 24.—* Visited the Indians, and took ea 
 their secular business ; which they are not able to m 
 age themselves without the constant care and adv 
 ofothers. Afterward discoursed to some of them ] 
 ticularly about their spiritual concerns.— Enjoyed t 
 day somewhat of the same frame of mind which I 
 the day before. : 
 Lord’s day, May 25.—“ Discoursed both parts 0 
 day from John, 12:44-48. There was some degree 
 divine power attending the word of God. Seve 
 wept, and appeared considerably affected, and one, ¥ 
 had long been under spiritual trouble, now obtaine 
 clearness and comfort, and appeared to rejoice in Go 
 her Savior. It was a day of grace and divine g 
 ness; a day wherein something I trust was done | 
 the cause of God among my people; a season of ec 
 fortand sweetness to numbers of the religious peoph 
 
746.) AT CRANBERRY. 257 
 
 though there was not that influence upon the con- 
 jregation which was common some months ago. 
 
 _ Lord’s day, June 1.—“ Preached both forenoon and 
 fternoon from Matt: 11 : 27, 28. The presence of God 
 eemed to be in the assembly ; and numbers were con- 
 iderably melted and affected under divine truth. There 
 yas a desirable appearance in the congregation in gene- 
 al, an earnest attention and an agreeable tenderness ; 
 nd it seemed as if God designed to visit us with fur- 
 her showers of divine grace. I then received into 
 jommunion five persons; and was not a little refreshed 
 vith this addition made to the church of such as I hope 
 yillbesaved. Ihavereason to hope that God has late- 
 y, at and since our celebration of the Lord’s supper, 
 at home to himself several persons who had long 
 een under spiritual trouble and concern; although 
 here have been few instances of persons lately awa- 
 ‘ened out of astate of security. ‘Those comforted of 
 ate seem to be brought in, in a more silent way; nei- 
 er their concern, nor consolation being so powerful 
 ind remarkable as appeared among those more sudden- 
 y wrought upon in the beginning of this work of grace. 
 June'7.—“ Being desired by the Rev. Witt1am Trn- 
 went to be his assistant in the administration of the 
 ,ord’s Supper, I this morning rode to Freehold to ren- 
 that assistance. My people also being invited to 
 ittend at that solemnity, they cheerfully embraced the 
 ypportunity, and this day attended the preparatory ser- 
 fiees with me. 
 
 | Lord?s day, June 8.—“ Most of my people, who had 
 yeen communicants at the Lord’s table, before being 
 Bent on this occasion, communed with others in the 
 aoly ordinance, at the desire, and I trust to the satis- 
 Taction and comfort of numbers of God’s people, who 
 B 22* 
 
 i 
 \ 
 } 
 
258 LIFE OF BRAINERD. Chap. 
 
 had longed to see this day, and whose hearts 
 joiced in this work of grace among the Indians, v 
 prepared the way for what appeared so agreeab 
 this time. ‘Those of my people who communed, see 
 ed in general agreeably affected at the Lord’s ti 
 and some of them considerably melted with the. 
 of Christ, although they were not so remarkably 
 freshed and feasted at this time, as when I administet 
 this ordinance to them in our own congregation on 
 Some of the by-standers were affected with seeing t 
 who had been ‘aliens from the commonwealth of 
 rael, and strangers to the covenant of promise,’ 
 of all men had lived ‘without hope and without ¢ 
 in the world,’ now brought near to God, as his pra 
 ~ ing people, by a solemn and devout attendance uj 
 this sacred ordinance. As numbers of God’s peo 
 were refreshed at this sight, and thereby excite 
 bless God for the enlargement of his kingdom in 
 world; so some others, I was told, were awakened 
 it, apprehending the danger they: were in of be 
 themselves finally cast out ; while they saw oth 
 from the east and west preparing, and hopefully p 
 pared in some good measure, to sit down in the ki 
 dom of God. At this season others of my people 4 
 who were not communicants, were considerably af 
 ed; convictions were revived in several instances ; 
 one, the man particularly mentioned in my journ: 
 the 6th instant, obtained comfort and satisfaction; 
 has since given me such an account of his spir 
 exercises, and the manner in which he obtained r li 
 as appears very hopeful. Itseemsas if He, who com 
 manded the light to shine out of darkness, had 1 
 ‘shined into his heart, and given him the light of, an 
 
746. AT CRANBERRY. 259 
 | 
 
 cperimental ‘knowledge of the glory of God in the 
 ee of Jesus Christ.’ 
 June 9.—* A considerable number of my people met 
 gether early in a retired place in the woods, and 
 ‘ayed, sang, and conversed of divine things; and were 
 by some religious persons of the white people to 
 + affected and engaged, and some of them in tears in 
 ese religious exercises. 
 “After they had attended the concluding exercises 
 ‘the Lord’s Supper they returned home; many of 
 €m rejoicing for all the goodness of God which they 
 d seen and felt: so that this appeared to be a profit- 
 le as well as comfortable season to numbers of my 
 faninbe Their being present at this occasion, 
 
 anumber of them communing at the Lord’s table 
 other Christians, was, I trust, for the honor of 
 a and the interest of religion in these parts; as num- 
 I have reason to think, were quickened by means 
 
 sit. J 
 - 13.—“Preached to my people upon the new 
 ure, from 2 Cor. 5:17. The presence of God ap- 
 ed to be in the assembly. It was a sweet and 
 reeable meeting, wherein the people of God were - 
 ireshed and strengthened; beholding their faces in 
 e glass of God’s word, and finding in themselves the 
 ks and lineaments of the new creature: Some sin- 
 s .~ concern were also renewedly affected ; and 
 hh engaged for the securing of their eternal in- 
 a : 
 “ Three Indians were at this time received into com- 
 ion. One of them was the very aged woman of 
 ose exercises I gave an account in my diary of Dec. 
 She now gave me a very punctual, rational, and 
 isfactory account of the remarkable change which 
 
260 LIFE OF BRAINERD. 
 
 she experienced some months after the beginnin, 
 her concern, which I must say, appeared to be the; 
 nuine operations of the Divine Spirit, so far as lam 
 * pable of judging. Although she was become so ch 
 ish, through age, that I could dg nothing in a way 
 questioning her, nor scarcely make her understand 
 thing that I asked her; yet when I let her alone t 
 on with her own story, she could give a very 
 tinct and particular relation of the many and variou 
 exercises of soul she had experienced ; so deep w 
 the impressions left upon her mind by that infil 
 and those exercises which she had experienced. 
 have great reason to think that sheis born anew in 
 old age: she being, I presume, upward of eighty. 
 
 June 19.—“ Visited my people with two of the 
 rend correspondents. Spent some time in conversat 
 with some of them upon spiritual things; and t 
 some care of their worldly concerns. 
 
 “This day makes up a complete year from the 
 time of my preaching to these Indians in New-Jers 
 What amazing things has God wrought, in this s 
 of time, for this poor people! What a surprising cha 
 appears in their tempers and behavior! How are! 
 rose and savage Pagans, in this short period, transfo 
 ed into agreeable, affectionate, and humble Christi 
 and their drunken and Pagan howlings turned into d 
 vout and fervent praises to God! They ‘who w 
 sometimes in. darkness are now become light in 
 Lord.’ May they ‘walk as children of the light an 
 of the day! And now to Him that is of power to€ 
 tablish them according to the gospel, and the preat 
 ing of Christ—to God only wise, be glory through J 
 sus Christ, for ever and ever, Amen.” > ? 
 
) 
 | 
 GENERAL REMARKS 
 
 ‘ON THE PRECEDING NARRATIVE. 
 “Ar the close of this Narrative I would make a few 
 ENERAL Remarks upon what, to me, appears worthy 
 f notice, relating to the continued work of grace a 
 jong my people. 
 
 I.“I cannot but take notice, that I have in general, 
 er since my first coming among the Indians in New- 
 2rsey, been favored with that assistance which to me 
 ulicommon, in preaching Christ crucified, and ma- 
 ng him the centre and mark to which all my dis- 
 rses among them were directed. 
 
 “Tt was the principal scope and drift of all my dis- 
 ses to this people, for several months together, 
 r having taught them something of the being and 
 orfections of God, his creation of man in a state of 
 jetitude and happiness, and the obligations mankind 
 ere thence under to love and honor him,) to lead 
 ‘em into an acquaintance with their deplorable state 
 7 nature, as fallen creatures; their inability to extri- 
 e and deliver themselves from it; the utter insuf- 
 iency of any external reformations and amendments 
 (life, or of any religious performances, of which they 
 re capable, while in this state, to bring them into the 
 vor of God, and interest them in his eternal mercy; 
 ence to show them their absolute need of Christ to 
 leem and save them from the misery of their fallen 
 a open his all-sufficiency and willingness to 
 
 the chief of sinners;—tle freeness and riches of 
 vine grace, proposed ‘without money, and without 
 ‘ice,’ to all-that will accept the offer; thereupon to 
 réss them without delay to betake themselves to him, 
 
 } 
 
 | 
 1 
 
¥ 
 
 _ 262 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. vi 
 
 under a sense of their misery and undone state, for re 
 lief and everlasting salvation;—and to show them th 
 abundant encouragement the gospel proposes to need 
 perishing, and helpless sinners, in order to engage then 
 so todo. These things, I repeatedly and largely ins! 
 ed upon from time to time. ' 
 “T have oftentimes remarked with admiration, the 
 whatever subject I have been treating upon, after | 
 ing spent time sufficient to explain and illustrate 
 truths contained therein, I have been naturally 
 easily led to Christ as the substance of every subject 
 If I treated on the being and glorious perfections 0 
 God; I was thence naturally led to discourse of Chr 
 as the only ‘way to the Father.’—If I attempted 
 open the deplorable misery of our fallen state; it w 
 natural from thence to show the necessity of Christ 
 undertake for us, to atone for our sins, and to rede 
 us from the power of them.—If I taught the comma’ 
 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 
 ‘magnified the law’ which we had broken, and wi 
 was ‘become the end of it, for righteousness, to eve 
 one that believes.” Never did I find so much freede 
 and assistance in making all the various lines of 
 discourses meet together, and centre in Christ, as 
 have frequently done among these Indians. 
 “Sometimes when I have had thoughts of offering 
 but a few words upon some particular subject, and s 
 no occasion, nor indeed much room, for any considera 
 ble enlargement, there has appeared such a fountail 
 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 substai 
 
(746. | GENERAL REMARKS. 263 
 
 f what I was considering and explaining; that I have 
 jeen drawn in a way not only easy and natural, proper 
 nd pertinent, but almost unavoidable, to discourse of | 
 jim, either in regard to his undertaking, incarnation, 
 atisfaction, admirable fitness for the work of man’s re- 
 emption, or the infinite need that sinners stand in of 
 n interest in him; which has opened the way for a 
 ontinued strain of gospel invitation to perishing souls, 
 2eome empty and naked, weary and heavy laden, and 
 ast themselves upon him. 
 As [have been remarkably influenced and assisted 
 ) dwell upon the Lord Jesus Christ, and the way of 
 alvation by him, in the general current of my discours- 
 3 here, and have been, at times, surprisingly furnish- 
 with pertinent matter relating to him, and the de- 
 gn of his incarnation; so I have been no less assisted 
 tentimes in an advantageous manner of opening the 
 ysteries of divine grace, and representing the infinite 
 tcellencies, and ‘unsearchable riches of Christ,’ as 
 ell as of recommending him to the acceptance oi 
 srishing sinners. I have frequently been enabled to 
 
 Ki 
 
 spresent the divine glory, the infinite preciousness 
 Htranscenan loveliness of the great Redeemer, the 
 litableness of his person and purchase to supply the 
 ants, and answer the utmost desires of immortal souls; 
 to open the infinite riches of his grace, and the won- 
 srful encouragement proposed in the gospel to un- 
 rthy, helpless sinners ;—to call, invite, and beseech: 
 em to come and give up themselves to him, and be 
 oC to God through him;—to expostulate with 
 em respecting their neglect of one so infinitely love- 
 i and freely offered ;—and this in such a manner, with 
 ich freedom, pertinency, pathos, and application to 
 ie conscience, as, I am sure, Inever could have made 
 
 \ 
 i 
 i 
 
rr é " | 
 264 |. SLIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. vin 
 
 myself master of, by the most assiduous application 
 mind. Frequently, at such seasons, I have been sux 
 prisingly helped in adapting my discourses to the 
 pacities of my people, and bringing them down in 
 ~ ‘such easy, and familiar methods of expression, as he 
 rendered them intelligible even to Pagans. 4 
 “Ido not mention these things asa recommendali 
 of my own performances; for I am sure I found, fro 
 time to time, that I had no skill or wisdom for 
 great work; and knew not how ‘to choose out acce 
 able words’ proper to address to poor benighted Pe 
 gans. But thus’God was pleased to help me, ‘no 
 know any thing among them, save Jesus Christ 
 him crucified. Thus I was enabled to show thei 
 their misery without him, and to represent his con 
 plete fitness to redeem and save them. 
 “This was the preaching God made use of for awat 
 ing sinners, and the propagation of this ‘work of grac 
 among the Indians.” It was remarkable, | 
 to time, that when I was favored with any ee 
 dom, in discoursing of the ‘ability and willingness 
 Christ to save sinners,’ and ‘the need in which the 
 stood of such a Savior;’ there was then the greate; 
 appearance of divine power in awakening numbe iS ( 
 secure souls, promoting convictions begun, and con 
 forting the distressed. a 
 “J have sometimes formerly, in reading the Apostle 
 discourse to Cornelius, (Acts, 10,)wondered to see hil 
 so quickly introduce the Lord Jesus Christ into his se 
 mon, and so entirely dwell upon him through the who. 
 of it, observing him in this point very widely to diff 
 from many of our modern preachers; but latterly th 
 has not seemed strange, since Christ has appeared | 
 be the substance of the gospel and the centre in whic 
 
746. GENERAL REMARKS. 265 
 
 he several lines of divine revelation meet. Still Iam 
 ensible that there are many things necessary to be spo- 
 ‘en to persons under Pagan darkness, in order to make 
 vay for a proper introduction of the name of Christ, 
 nd his undertaking in behalf of fallen man. 
 
 IL. “Itis worthy of remark, that numbers of these 
 seople are brought toa strict compliance with the rules 
 f morality and sobriety, and to a conscientious per- 
 ormance of the external duties of Christianity, by the 
 nternal power and influence of divine truth—the pecu- 
 jar doctrines of grace upon their minds; without their 
 iaving these moral duties frequently repeated and in- 
 wulcated upon them, and the contrary vices particularly 
 xposed and spoken against. What has been the gene- 
 al strain and drift of my preaching among these In- 
 dans, what were the truths I principally insisted upon, 
 nd how I was influenced and enabled to dwell from 
 ime to time, upon the peculiar doctrines of grace, I 
 jave already stated. Those doctrines, which had the 
 aost direct tendency to humble the fallen creature; 
 o show him the misery of his natural state; to bring 
 ‘im down to the foot of sovereign mercy, and to exalt 
 he great Redeemer—discover his transcendant excel- 
 ency and infinite preciousness, and so recommend him 
 » the sinner’s acceptance—were the subject-matter of 
 yhat was delivered in public and private to them, and 
 tom time to time repeated and inculcated. 
 
 ' “God was pleased to give these divine truths such 
 ‘powerful influence upon the minds of these people, 
 nd so to bless them for the effectual awakening of 
 jumbers of them, that their lives were quickly reform- 
 id, without my insisting upon the precepts of morali- 
 y, and spending time in repeated harangues upon ex- 
 
 ermal duties. There was indeed no room for any kind 
 23 Brainerd. 
 
 4 
 
ai 
 
 “3 
 
 266 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (cine 
 
 of discourses but those which respected the essent 
 of religion, and the experimen 
 things, while there were so m 
 how “they should regulate their 
 that, persons who are honestly disposed to comply 
 duty, when known, may in ordinary cases be eé 
 satisfied about, puicanee they should escape from 
 wrath they feared, and felt that they deserved,—ok 
 an effectual change of heart,—get an interest in Chris 
 —and come to the enjoyment of eternal blessedne 
 “So that my great work still was to lead them in 
 further view of their utter undoneness in themselt 
 the total depravity and corruption of their hearts; ’ 
 there was no manner Of goodness in them; no g 
 dispositions nor desires; no love to God, nor del 
 in his commands; but, on the contrary, hatred, enm 
 and all manner of wickedness reigning in them: 
 at the same time to open to them the glorious and ¢ 
 plete remedy provided i in Christ for perishing 
 and offered fie 1o those who have no goodnes 
 their own, no s of righteousness which they h 
 done, to recommend them to God. 
 
 “This was the continued strain of my preachii 
 this my great concern and constant endeavor, so to. 
 lighten the mind, as thereby duly to affect the hear 
 and, as faras possible, give.persons a sense and feel 
 of these precious and important doctrines of grace, : 
 least so far as means might conduce to it. These wel 
 the doctrines, and this the method of preaching, whic 
 ' were blessed of God for the awakening, and I trus 
 the saving conversion of numbers of souls; and whic 
 were made the means of producing a remarkall = 
 formation among the hearers in general. 
 
 “When these truths were felt at heart, there wa 
 
rf 
 1746.] ‘GENERAL REMARKS. ; 267 
 
 wno vice unreformed—no external duty neglected. 
 kenness, the darling vice, was broken off, and 
 scarce an instar it known among my hearers for 
 months together. The abusive practice of husbands 
 wives in putting away each other, and taking others 
 their stead, was quickly reformed; so that there are 
 ee or four feouples who have voluntarily dismissed 
 hose whom they had wrongfully taken, and now 
 ive together again in love and peace. The same 
 night be said of all other vicious practices. The re- 
 ormation was general; and all’springing from the in 
 ernal influence of divine truth upon their hearts, and 
 lot from any external restraints, or because they had 
 leard these vices particularly exposed, and repeatedly 
 poken against. Some of them I never so much as 
 mentioned ; particularly that of the parting of men 
 md their wives, till some, having their conscience 
 wakened by God’s word, came, and of their own 
 ccord. confessed | themselves guilty in that respect. 
 en I at any time mentioned their wicked practices, 
 nd the sins they were guilty of contrary te the light 
 ‘nature, it was not with a design, nor indeed with any 
 e, of working an effectual reformation i in their ex- 
 al manners by this means, for I knew, that while 
 le tree remained corrupt, the fruit would naturally be 
 0. My design was to lead them, by observing the 
 ickedness of their lives, to a view of the corruption 
 f their hearts, and so to convince them of the néces- 
 ity of a renovation of nature, and to excite them, with 
 fe utmost diligence to Seale after that great change, 
 hich, if once obtained, I was sensible, would of course 
 maduce a reformation of external Iemmniers in every 
 espect. 
 
 | And as all vice was reformed upon their feeling the 
 
at as | { 
 
 . 
 268 LIFE OF BRAINERD. - (Chap. vil. 
 
 power of these truths upon their hearts, so the external 
 duties of Christianity were complied with, and e 
 scientiously performed from the same internal infiu- 
 ence; family prayer set up, and constantly maintained 
 unless among a few who had more lately come, a ad 
 had felt little of this divine influence. This duty 
 constantly performed, even in some families wh 
 there were none but females, and scare _prayerle 
 person was to be found among near anti nde 
 them. The Sabbath was seriously and religiously 6 
 served, and care taken by parents to keep their children 
 orderly upon that sacred day; and this, not because 
 had driven them to the performance of these duties 
 by frequently inculcating them, but because they hat 
 felt the power of God’s word upon their hearts,—were 
 made sensible of their sin and misery, and thence coul 
 not but pray, and comply with every thing which they 
 knew to be their duty, from what they felt within them 
 selves. When their hearts were touched with as 
 of their eternal concerns, they could pray with 
 freedom, as well as fervency, without being at the 
 ble first to learn set forms for that purpose. Someo 
 them, who were suddenly awakened at their first com: 
 ing among us, were brought to pray and cry for merey 
 with the utmost importunity, without ever being in- 
 structed in the duty of prayer, or so much as once di. 
 rected to a-performance of it. : 
 “The happy effects of these peculiar doctrines of 
 grace upon this people, show, even to demonstratior 
 that, instead of their opening a door to licentiousness, 
 as many vainly imagine, and slanderously insinu 
 they have a directly contrary tendency ; so that a cl 
 application, a sense and feeling of them, will have 
 most powerful influence toward the renovation, 
 effectual reformation both of heart and life. 
 
746.) | GENERAL REMARKS. 269 
 
 “Happy experience, as well as the word of God and 
 he example of Christ and his apostles, has taught me, 
 hat the very method of preaching ‘which is best suit- 
 d to awaken in mankind a sense and lively appre- 
 ension of their depravity and misery in a fallen state, 
 =to excite them so earnestly to seek after a change of 
 eart, as to fly for refuge to free and sovereign grace 
 a Christ’ as the only hope set before them,—is likely 
 ) be most successful in the reformation of their exter- 
 al conduct. I have found that close addresses, and 
 olemn applications of divine truth to the conscience, 
 ike at the root of all vice; while smooth and plau- 
 ble harangues upon moral virtues and external du- 
 es, at best are like to donomore than lop off the branch- 
 3 of corruption, while the root of all vice remains still 
 ntouched. 
 “A view of the blessed effect of honest endeavors 
 ) bring home divine truths to the conscience, and duly 
 ) affect the heart with them, has often reminded me 
 f those words of our Lord, which I have thought 
 light be a proper exhortation for ministers in respect 
 | their treatment of others, as well as for persons in 
 sneral with regard to themselves. ‘Cleanse first the 
 siae of the cup and platter, that the outside may be 
 ean also.’ Cleanse, says he, the inside that the out- 
 de may be clean. As if he had said, the only effec- 
 al way to have the outside clean, is to begin with 
 at is within; and if the fountain be purified, the 
 Ens willnaturally be pure. Most certain it is, if we 
 in awaken in sinners a lively sense of their inward 
 ution and depravity—their need of a change of 
 part—and so engage them to seek after inward clean- 
 ag, their external defilement will naturally be 
 
 pansed, their vicious ways of course be reformed 
 r 23* 
 
_ to represent the preaching of morality and press 
 
 ” 
 270 LIFE OF 
 
 and their conversation and behavior become reg 
 
 “Now, although I cannot P Send that the refor 
 tion among my people does, in every instapanal s 
 from a saving change of heart; yet I may trulys 
 it flows from some heart-affecting view and se 
 divine truths which all have had in a greater or 
 degree. I do not intend, by what I have observed 
 
 persons to the external performance of duty, to be 
 together unnecessary and useless, especially at ti 
 when there is less of divine power attending the me 
 of grace, when, for want of internal influences, th 
 is need of external restraints, It is doubtless an 
 the things that ought to be done, while others are 
 to be left undone. But what I principally designed 
 this remark, was to discover a plain matter of fact, 
 That the reformation, the sobriety, and the extel 
 compliance with the rules and duties of Christian 
 appearing among my people, are not the effect of an} 
 mere doctrinal instruction, or merely rational view 
 the beauty of morality, but from the internal por 
 and influence which the soul-humbling doctrines 
 grace have had upon their hearts. -~ 
 
 Ill. “It is remarkable, that God has so conta 
 renewed the showers of his grace here; so quickly se 
 up his visible kingdom among these people; and 
 smiled upon them in relation to their acquirement ¢ 
 knowledge, both divine and human. It is now ne 
 a year since the beginning of this gracious outpouril 
 of the divine Spirit among them ; and although it} 
 often seemed to decline and abate for some short sp: 
 of trme—as may be observed by several passe 
 my Journal, where I have endeavored to note th 
 fust as from time to time they appeared to me 
 
we te =: wee os 
 (746.) OENERAL ae REMARKS. mm 
 he shower has seemed to be renewed, and the work 
 of grace revived again. A divine influence seems still 
 pparently to attend the means of grace, in a greater 
 less degree, in most of our meetings for religious 
 ‘xercises ; whereby religious persons are refreshed, 
 trengthened, and established,—convictions revived and 
 jromoted in many instances, and some few persons 
 tewly awakened from time to time. 1 must be ac- 
 mowledsed, that for some time past there has, in gen- 
 Tal, appeared a more manifest decline of this work; 
 ‘nd the divine Spirit has seemed, in a considerable 
 €, withdrawn, especially with regard to his awa- 
 ening influence; so that the strangers who come lat- 
 a not seized with concern as formerly; and 
 ome few who have been much affected with divine 
 : in time past, now appear less concerned. Yet, 
 | be God, there is still an appearance of divine 
 ‘ower and grace, a desirable degree of tenderness, re- 
 affection and devotion in our assemblies. 
 “As God has continued and renewed the showers 
 fhis grace among this people for some time, so he 
 28 with uncommon quickness set up his visible king- 
 /om, and gathered himself a church in the midst of 
 7 Fifteen individuals, since the conclusion of my 
 
 Journal, have made a public profession of their 
 making thirty-eight within the space of eleren 
 
 hs, all of whom appear to have had a work of 
 grace wrought in their hearts; I mean, to have 
 
 ad the experience not only of the awakening, but, in 
 ad=ment of charity, of the renewing influences of 
 
 : divine Spirit. There are many others under so- 
 concern for their souls, and deep convictions of 
 
 sin and misery, but who do not yet give that deci- 
 idence which could be desired, ofasaving change. 
 
272 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. val 
 
 “From the time when, as I am informed, some 
 them were attending an idolatrous feast and sacri 
 in honor to devils, to the time when they sat down 
 the Lord’s table, I trust to the honor of God, was 
 more than a full year. Surely Christ’s little flock here, 
 so suddenly gathered from among Pagans, may j 
 say, in the language of the church of old, ‘The 
 hath done great things for us, whereof we are glad. 
 
 “Much of the goodness of God has also appeared 
 relation to their acquisition of knowledge, both in reli 
 gion and in the affairs of common life. There h 
 been a wonderful thirst after Christian knowledge pre 
 vailing among them in general, and an eager desire } 
 being. instructed in Christian doctrines and mannets 
 This has prompted them to ask many pertinent as y el 
 as important questions; the answers to which have 
 tended much to enlighten their minds and prome 
 their knowledge in divine things. Many of the doc- 
 trines which I have delivered, they have queried with 
 me about, in order to gain further light and insight i tc 
 them; and have from time to time manifested a good 
 understanding of them, by their answers to the ques 
 tions proposed to them in my catechetical ea 
 
 and 
 
 “They have likewise queried with me respect 
 proper method, as well as proper matter of prayer, ali 
 expressions suitable to be used in that religious exer- 
 cise ; and have taken pains in order to the perform: 
 ance of this duty with understanding.—They hay 
 likewise taken pains, and appeared remarkably ap 
 learning to sing psalm-tunes, and are now able to sin 
 with a good degree of decency in the worship of Go 
 —They have also acquired a considerable degree 0 
 useful knowledge in the affairs of common life; so 
 they now appear like rational creatures, fit for h 
 
— > 
 \ - 
 
 746.] GENERAL REMARKS. 273 
 
 ociety, free of that savage roughness and brutish stu- 
 idity which rendered them very disagreeable in their 
 ‘agan state. 
 
 “They seem ambitious of a thorough acquaintance 
 ‘ith the English language, and for that end frequently 
 geak itamong themselves. Many of them have made 
 ood proficiency in acquiring it, since my coming 
 mong them; so that most of them can understand a 
 msiderable part, and some the substance of my dis- 
 jurses, without an Interpreter, being used to my sim- 
 e and familiar methods of expression, though they 
 yuld not well understand other ministers. 
 
 “As they are desirous of instruction, and surprising- 
 Met in the reception of it, so divine Providence has 
 diled upon them with regard to the proper means in 
 der to it. The attempts made for establishing a school 
 nong them have succeeded, and a kind Providence 
 is sent them a schoolmaster, of whom I may justly 
 
 , 1 know of ‘no man like minded, who will naturally 
 
 for their state.’ He has generally thirty or thirty- 
 echildren i in his school; and when he kept an even- 
 z school, as he did while the length of the evenings 
 puld admit of it, fifleen or twenty grown people, mar- 
 id and single, attended. 
 The children learn with surprising readiness; so 
 at their master tells me, he never had an English 
 nool which learned, in general, so fast. There were 
 above two in thirty, although some of them were 
 fy small, but learned all the letters in the alphabet 
 hin three days after his entrance upon his business; 
 a several in that space of time learned to spell con- 
 erably. Some of them, in less than five months, 
 € learned to read with ease in the Psalter or Tes- 
 nent. 
 
274 LIPE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. é 
 
 “They are instructed twice a week in the Ci 
 on Wednesday and Saturday. Some of them, s 
 the latter end of February, when they began, 
 committed more than half of it to memory; and 
 of them have made some proficiency in it. ¢ 
 “ They are likewise instructed in the duty of s 
 prayer, and most of them constantly attend it nig) 
 and morning, and are very careful to inform their ma 
 ter, if they apprehend that any of their little schoo 
 mates neglect that religious exercise. 
 IV. “It is worthy to be noted, to the praise of so 
 reign grace, that amidst so great a work of convictio 
 —so much concern and religious affeetion—there hi 
 been no prevalence, nor indeed any considerable appem 
 ance of false religion—heats of imagination, inten 
 rate zeal, or spiritual pride; and that there havet 
 very few instances of irregular and scandalous bi 
 vior among those who have appeared serious. 
 “This work of grace has, in the main, been Cat 
 on with a surprising degree of purity, and fr 
 from corrupt mixture. Their religious concern 
 generally been rational and just; arising from a sen 
 of their sins, and exposure to the divine displeas ' 
 account of them; as well as their utter inability 
 liver themselves from the misery they felt and fears 
 If there has been, in any instance, an appearance 
 concern and perturbation of mind, when the subjects 
 it knew not why; yet there has been no prevalence 
 any such thing; and indeed f scarcely know of al 
 instance of that nature at all_—It is very remar 
 that, although the concern of many persons under co 
 victions of their perishing state has been very ere 
 and pressing, yet I have never seen any thing like de 
 peration attending it in any one instance. They ha 
 
 f ate 
 
 | te @ 
 
746. } GENERAL REMARKS. 275 
 
 ad the most lively sense of their undoneness in them- 
 elves; have been brought to give up all hopes of de- 
 verance from themselves; have experienced great dis- 
 ‘ess and anguish of soul; and yet, in the seasons of 
 1e greatest extremity, there has been no appearance 
 f despair in any of them,—nothing that has discou- 
 aged, or in any wise hindered them from the most dili- 
 ent use of all proper means for their conversion and 
 ilvation. Hence it is apparent, that there is not that 
 anger of persons being driven into despair under spi- 
 tual trouble, unless in cases of deep and habitual me- 
 mcholy, which the world in general is ready to 
 agine. 
 “The comfort which persons have obtained after 
 ieir distresses, has likewise in general appeared solid, 
 ell grounded, es scriptural; arising from a spiritual 
 ad supernatural illumination of mind,—a view of di- 
 ine things, in a measure, as they are,—a complacency 
 f soul in the divine nesteetione, ase a peculiar satis- 
 ction in the way of salvation by free sovereign grace 
 the great Redeemer. 
 “Their joys have seemed to rise from a variety of 
 ews and considerations of divine things, although for 
 bstance the same. Some, who, under conviction, 
 emed to have the hardest struggles and heart-risings 
 fainst the divine sovereignty, have seemed, at the first 
 hwn of their comfort, to rejoice in a peculiar manner 
 B. divine perfection :—and have been delighted to 
 link that themselves, and all things else, were in the 
 and of God, and that he would dispose of them ‘just 
 he pleased.’ 
 “Others, who, just before their reception of comfort, 
 ave been remarkably oppressed with a sense of their 
 adoneness and poverty, who have seen themselves, as 
 
iii i 
 
 276 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. Vil 
 
 it were, falling down into remediless perdition, han 
 been at first more peculiarly delighted with a view « 
 the freeness and riches of divine grace, and the off 
 of salvation made to perishing sinners ‘ without mone 
 and without price.’ : 7 
 
 “Some have at first appained to rejoice especially i 
 the wisdom of God, discovered in the way of salvat 
 by Christ; it then appearing to them ‘a new and livin 
 way,’ a way of which they had never thought, nor 
 any just conceptions, until opened to them by the spe 
 cial influence of the divine Spirit. Some of them, uy 
 on a lively spiritual view of this way of salvation, ha 
 wondered at their past folly in seeking salvati 
 other ways, and that they never saw this way of Sa 
 vation before, which now appeared so plain and 
 as well as excellent to them. 
 
 “ Others, again, have had a more general view 
 beauty and excellency of Christ, and have had 
 souls delighted with an apprehension of his divine gk 
 ry, as unspeakably exceeding all they had ever Cor 
 ceived before; yet, without singling out any one of th 
 divine perfections in particular; so that, although thei 
 comforts have seemed to arise from a variety of view 
 and considerations of divine glories, still they rs 
 
 spiritual and supernatural views of them, and me 
 groundless fancies, which were the spring of their jo 
 and comforts. . pte a 
 “Yet it must be acknowledged that, when this wor 
 became so universal and prevalent, and gained sue 
 general credit and esteem among the Indians that & 
 tan seemed to have little advantage of working agains 
 it in his own proper garb, he then transformed himsel 
 ‘into an angel of light,’ and made some vigorous at 
 tempts to introduce turbulent commotions of the pas 
 
1746.) GENERAL REMARKS. 277 
 
 sions in the room of genuine convictions of sin, imagi- 
 nary 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 
 is many other delusions. I have reason to think, that, 
 fthese things had met with countenance and encou- 
 ‘agement, there would have been a very considerable 
 larvest of this kind of converts here. i 
 “Spiritual pride also discovered itself in various in- 
 tances. Some persons, whose feelings had been great- 
 y excited, seemed very desirous from thence of being 
 hought truly gracious ; who, when I could not but ex- 
 mess to them my fears respecting their spiritual state, 
 liscovered their resentments to a considerable degree. 
 Chere also appeared in one or two of them, an unbe- 
 oming ambition of being teachers of others. So that 
 satan has been a busy adversary here as well as else- 
 where. But, blessed be God, though something of this 
 ature has appeared, yet nothing of it has prevailed, 
 lor indeed made any considerable progress at all. My 
 eople are now apprised of these things, are made ac- 
 ainted, that Satan in such a manner ‘ transformed 
 imself into an angel of light,’ in the first season of 
 i great outpouring of the divine Spirit in the days of 
 : apostles; and that something of this nature, in a 
 reater or less degree, has attended almost every re- 
 ival and remarkable propagation of true religion ever 
 :. They have learned so to distinguish between 
 ne gold and dross, that the credit of the latter ‘ is trod- 
 en down like the mire of the streets; and, as it is na- 
 iral for this kind of stuff to die with its credit, there 
 | Mow scarce any appearance of it among them. 
 | “As there has been no prevalence of irregular heats, 
 | 24 Brainerd. 
 
-, 
 
 278. LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. 
 
 imaginary notions, spiritual pride, and satanical de 
 sions among my people; so there have been very 
 instances of scandalous and irregular behavior among 
 those who have made a profession, or even an appear 
 ance of seriousness. I do not know of more thal 
 three or four such persons who have been guiltye¢ 
 any open misconduct, since their first acquainta 
 with Christianity ; and I know of no one who, pers ist 
 in any thing of that nature. Perhaps the remarkal 
 purity of this work in the latter respect, its freedor 
 from frequent instances of scandal, is very much ow 
 to its purity in the former respect, its freedom fi 
 corrupt mixtures of spiritual pride, wild-fire, and deli 
 sion, which naturally lay a foundation for scandal 
 practices. 
 “ May this blessed work, in the power and purity 
 prevail among the poor Indians here, as well as spr 
 elsewhere, till their remotest tribes shall see the sal 
 tion of God! Amen.” 
 
 CHAPTER Iz. 
 
 From the close of his Public Journal, June 19, 1746, to his 
 
 —continuance of labor at Crossweeksung and Cranber 
 journey wilh six Chrishian Indians to the Susquehanna, | 
 labors there—return to Crossweeksung—com, 
 tion of health to leave the Indians—confi 
 Elizabethlown—farewell visit to th 
 succeeds him as a Missionary— 
 Connecticut—visit to President # 
 journey to Boston, where he is brough 
 ness in Boston—returns to Northamplo 
 in his last sickness—death. 
 
 [June 19, 1746—October 9, 1747. J 
 
 Lord’s day, June 29, 1746.—“ Preached both 
 the day, frony John, 14:19. God was pleased to 
 
1746. ] AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 279 
 
 me, to afford me both freedom and power, especially 
 oward the close of my discourses forenoon and after- 
 100n. God’s power appeared in the assembly, in both 
 sxercises. Numbers of God’s people were refreshed 
 ind melted with divine things; one or two comforted, 
 vho had been long under distress; convictions, in di- 
 ers instances, were powerfully revived; and one man 
 o years was much awakened, who had not long fre- 
 uented our meeting, and appeared before as stupid 
 Sastock. God amazingly renewed and lengthened 
 ut my strength. I wads so spent at noon that I could 
 earcely walk, and all my joints trembled so that I could 
 Ot sit, nor so much as hold my hand still; aid yet 
 od strengthened me to preach with power in the after- 
 oon, although I had given out word to my people, that 
 did not expect to be able to do it. Spent some time 
 fterward in conversing, particularly, with several per- 
 ms, about their spiritual state; and had some satis- 
 letion concerning one or two. Prayed afterward 
 ‘ith a sick child, and gave a word of exhortation. 
 Jas assisted in all my work. Blessed be God! Re- 
 tned home with more health than I had in the morn- 
 g, although my linen was wringing wet upon me, 
 om a little after ten, till past. five in the afternoon. 
 Y spirits also were considerably refreshed 3 and my 
 jul rejoiced in hope, that I had through grace done 
 mething for God. In the evening walked out, and 
 oyed a sweet season in secret prayer and praise. 
 
 OI found the truth of the Psalmist’s words, ‘My 
 odness extendeth not to thee!’ I could not make 
 ty returns to God; I longed to live only to him, and 
 be in tune for his praise and service for ever. Oh 
 
 spirituality and holy fervency, that I might spend 
 a be spent for God to my latest moment 
 
_ 
 
 Returned to my lodgings in the evening, in a comfe 
 
 iii 
 
 280 | LIFE OF BRAINERD. [chap. Ix 
 
 July 10.—* Spent most of the day in writing. To. 
 ward night rode to Mr. Tennent’s; enjoyed soi 
 agreeable conversation; went home in the evening 
 a solemn, sweet frame of mind ; was refreshed in 
 duties, longed to live wholly and only for God, anc 
 saw plainly there was nothing in the world worth ; 
 my affection—my heart was dead to all below; yet 
 through dejection, as at some times, but from vie 
 a better inheritance. Ad 
 
 July 12.—“ This day was spent in fasting and praye 
 by my congregation, as preparatory to the Lord’s st 
 per. Idiscoursed, both parts of the day, from Rom. 
 4 : 25, ‘Who was delivered for our offences,’ & 
 God gave me some assistance, and something of div 
 power attended the word; so that this was an agree 
 able season. Afterward led them to a solemn renewa 
 of their covenant, and fresh dedication of themsely 
 to God. This was a season both of solemnity an 
 sweetness, and God seemed to be ‘in the midst of u 
 
 able frame of mind. 
 Lord’s day, July 13.—* In the forenoon, discoursed 
 on the ‘ bread of life, from John, 6 : 35. God gave mi 
 some assistance, in a part of my discourse especially 
 and there appeared some tender affection in the assem 
 bly under divine truth; my soul also was somey 
 refreshed. Administered the Lord’s supper to thirty 
 one of the Indians. God seemed to be present in thi 
 ordinance ; the communicants were sweetly melted an 
 refreshed. O how they melted, even when the ele 
 ments were first uncovered! There was scarcely 
 dry eye among them, when I took off the linen, 
 showed them the symbols of Christ’s broken 
 Having rested a little, after the administration of 
 
1746.] LORD’S SUPPER. 281. 
 
 ordinance, | visited the communicants, and found them 
 generally in a sweet loving frame; not unlike what ap- 
 peared among them on the former sacramental occa- 
 sion, April 27. In the afternoon, discoursed upon com- 
 ing to Christ, and the satisfaction of those who do SO, 
 from the same verse I insisted on in the forenoon. 
 This was likewise an agreeable season, one of much 
 tenderness, affection, and enlargement in divine ser- 
 vice ; and God, Iam persuaded, crowned our assembly 
 with his presence. I returned home much spent, yet 
 rejoicing in the goodness of God. 
 
 July 14.—“ Went to my people, and discoursed to 
 jhem from Psalm 119 : 106, ‘I have sworn, and I will] 
 erform it, &c. Observed, (1.) that all God’s judg- 
 nents or commandments are righteous. (2.) That 
 x0d’s people have sworn to kéep them ; and this they 
 lo especially at the Lord’s table. There appeared to 
 ¢ a powerful divine influence on the assembly, and 
 onsiderable melting under the word. Afterward I 
 ed them to a renewal of their covenant before God, 
 hat they would watch over themselves and one ano- 
 her, lest they should fall into sin, and dishonor the 
 ame of Christ. This transaction was attended with 
 reat solemnity ; and God seemed to own it by excit- 
 ig in them a fear and jealousy of themselves, lest they 
 heuld sin against God ; so that the presence of God 
 seemed to be among us in this conclusion of the sacra- 
 lental solemnity. | 
 | July 21.—“ Preached to the Indians, chiefly for the 
 ike of some strangers ; proposed my design of taking 
 journey speedily to the Susquehanna ; exhorted my, 
 ople to pray for me, that God would be with me in 
 at journey ; and then chose divers persons of the con- 
 regation to travel with me. Afterward spent some 
 | B 24* 
 
a 
 
 282 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. 1X. 
 
 time in discoursing to the strangers, and was y 
 what encouraged with them. Took care of my } , 
 ple’s secular business, and was not a little exerci 
 with it. Had some degree of composure and co: 
 in secret retirement. 4 
 July 22.—* Was in a dejected frame most of the day 
 wanted to wear out life, and have it at-an end; bu 
 had some desires of living to God, and wearing out if 
 for him. Oh that I could indeed do so te) 
 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 evening I enjoyed a comfortable season 
 in secret prayer; was helped to plead with God fo 
 my own dear people, that he would carry on his own 
 blessed work among them; and assisted in prayil 
 for the divine presence to attend me in my intendé 
 journey to the Susquehanna. I scarce knew how 
 leave the throne of grace, and it grieved me that 
 was obliged to go to bed; I longed to do something 
 for God, but knew not how. Blessed be God for thi 
 freedom from dejection! ” 
 July 30.—* Was uncommonly comfortable, both in 
 body and mind; in the forenoon especially, my min 
 was solemn; I was assisted in my work, and 
 “Seemed to be near to me; so that the day was as 
 fortable as most I have enjoyed for some time. In the 
 evening was favored with assistance in secret pra 
 and felt much as I did the evening before. Blessed 
 God for that freedom I then enjoyed at the throne 
 grace, for myself, my people, and my dear friends! 
 August 1.—“ In the evening enjoyed a sweet season 
 in secret prayer ; clouds of darkness and perplexing 
 care were sweetly scattered, and nothing anxious re 
 
746.) AT CROSSWEEKSUNG. 283 
 
 aained. O how serene was my mind at this season! 
 
 ow free from that distracting concern I have often 
 
 it! ‘ Thy will be done, was a petition sweet to my 
 
 pul; and if God had bid me choose for myself in any 
 
 fair, I should have chosen rather to have referred 
 
 ie choice to him; for I saw he was infinitely wise, 
 
 nd could not do any thing amiss, as I was in danger 
 
 fdoing. Was assisted in prayer for my dear flock, 
 
 jat God would promote his own work among them, 
 
 nd go with me in my intended journey to the Sus- 
 
 nehanna; was helped to remember my dear friends 
 
 ) New-England, and my dear brethren in the minis- 
 
 y- I found enough in the sweet duty of prayer to 
 
 ave engaged me to continue in it the whole night, 
 
 ould my bodily state have admitted of it. O how 
 
 veet it is, to be enabled heartily to say, ‘ Lord, not 
 
 y will, but thine be done’ 
 
 August 2.—“ Near night, preached from Matt. 11. 
 
 9. ‘Take my yoke upon you,’ &c. Was considerably 
 
 alped, and the presence of God seemed to be some- 
 
 hat remarkably in the assembly; divine truth made 
 
 ywerful impressions, both upon saints and sinners. 
 
 lessed be God for such a revival among us! In the 
 
 ening was very weary, but found my spirits sup- 
 
 brted and refreshed. 
 
 ‘August 7—“ Rode to my house where I spent the® 
 st winter, in order to bring some tnings I needed fer 
 
 ly Susquehanna journey ; was refreshed to see that 
 abe, which God so marvellously visited with the 
 sowers of his grace. O how amazing did the power 
 . God often appear there! ‘Bless the Lord, O my 
 jul, and forget not ali his benefits.’ 
 
 August 9.—“ In the afternoon visited my people ; set 
 \eir affairs in order as much as possible, and contrived 
 
bi ’ 
 
 * 
 
 284 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. IX 
 
 for them the management of their worldly busines 
 discoursed to them in a solemn manner, and concludec 
 with prayer. Was composed and comfortable in t 
 evening, and somewhat fervent in secret prayer; } ac 
 some sense and view of the eternal world; and foun 
 a serenity of mind. O that I could magnify the Li 
 for any freedom which he affords me in prayer! — 
 Lord’s day, Aug. 10.—“ Discoursed to my people bo 
 parts of the day, from Acts, 3: 19, ‘Repent ye, there 
 fore, &c. In discoursing of repentance, in the fo 
 noon, God helped me, so that my discourse was seare 
 ing ; some were in tears, both of the Indians and whit 
 people, and the word of God was attended with so 
 power, In the intermission I was engaged in conve 
 sing on their spiritual state, one of whom had very re 
 cently found comfort, after spiritual trouble and d 
 tress. In the afternoon was somewhat assisted aga 
 though weak and weary. Three persons this day mad 
 a public profession of their faith. Was in a comfor 
 able frame in the evening, and enjoyed some satisfa 
 tion in secret prayer. I have rarely felt myself so f 
 of tenderness as this day. r 
 August 11.—“ Being about to set out on a journey t 
 the Susquehanna the next day, with leave of Proy 
 dence, I spent some time this day in prayer with 
 people, that God would bless and succeed my inten 
 journey, that he would send forth his blessed Spit 
 with his word, and set up his kingdom among the por 
 Indians in the wilderness. While I was opening 
 applying part of the 110th and 111th Psalms, the p 
 of God seemed to descend on the assembly in some me 
 sure ; and while I was making the first prayer, nun 
 bers were melted, and I found some affectionate 
 lorgement of soul myself. Preached from Acts, 4:8 
 
 2 
 
 $ 
 
746.] ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 285 
 
 And when they had prayed, the place was shaken,’ &c. 
 od helped me, and my interpreter also; there was a 
 haking and melting among us; and several, I doubt 
 ot, were in some measure ‘filled with the Holy Ghost.’ 
 fierward, Mr. Macnight prayed ; and I then opened 
 1e two last stanzas of the 72d Psalm; at which time 
 od was present with us; especially while I insisted 
 pon the promise of all nations blessing the great Re- 
 eemer. Mysoul was refreshed, to think that this day 
 lis blessed, glorious season, should surely come; and I 
 ust numbers of my dear people were also refreshed. 
 fterward prayed ; had some freedom, but was almost 
 vent ; then walked out, and left my people to carry 
 n religious exercises among themselves. They prayed 
 speatedly, and sung, while I rested and refreshed my- 
 lf. Afterward went to the meeting, prayed with, and 
 ismissed the assembly. Blessed be God, this has been 
 day of grace. There were many tears and affec- 
 onate sobs among us this day. In the evening my 
 ul was refreshed in prayer; enjoyed liberty at the 
 lrone of grace, in praying for my people and friends, 
 d the church of God in general. ‘ Bless the Lord, 
 /my soul.’” 
 
 The next day he set out on his journey toward the 
 isquehanna, and six of his Christian Indians with 
 im, whom he had chosen out of his congregation, as 
 lose he judged most fit to assist him in the business 
 on which he was going. He took his way through 
 iladelphia; intending to go to the Susquehanna, far 
 Wn, Where it is settled by the white people, below 
 e country inhabited by the Indians; and so to travel 
 the river to the Indian habitations. For although 
 is was much farther, yet hereby he avoided the moun- 
 § and hideous wilderness that must be crossed in 
 
Thad a secret hope that I might speedily: get a dism 
 
 286 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ch 
 
 the nearer way; which in time past he found to” 
 extremely difficult and fatiguing. 
 
 Aug. 19.—“ Lodged by the side of the Susquehan 
 Was weak and disordered both this and the preceding 
 day, and found my spirits considerably damped, meet 
 ing with none that I thought godly people. 
 
 Aug. 20.—“ Having lain in a cold sweat all night] 
 coughed up much bloody matter this morning, 2 
 was under great disorder of body, and not a little 
 lancholy ; but what gave me some encouragement, ¥ 
 
 sion from earth, and all its toils and sorrows. Rode this 
 day to one Chambers’, upon the Susquehanna, and the 
 lodged. Was much afflicted in the evening witl 
 ungodly crew, drinking, swearing, &c. O what a/ 
 would it be, to be numbered with the ungodly! ¥ 
 joyed some agreeable conversation with a travel 
 who seemed to have some relish of true religion. — 
 
 Aug. 21.—“Rode up the river about fifteen miles, ¢ 
 there lodged, in a family which appeared quite des 
 tute of God. -Labored to discourse with the man ab 
 the life of religion, but found him very artful in eva 
 ding 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; ¥ 
 people now being with me, who before were part 
 from me; travelled above all the English settlement 
 at night lodged in the open woods, and slept with mor 
 comfort than while among an ungodly company 
 white people. Enjoyed some liberty in secret praj 
 this evening; and was helped to remember dear frien: 
 as well as my dear flock, and the church - od in 
 general. 
 
1745.) ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 287 
 
 Aug. 23.—“ Arrived at the Indian town, called Shau- 
 noking, near night ; was not so dejected as formerly, 
 mut yet somewhat exercised. Felt composed in the 
 vening, and enjoyed some freedom in leaving my all 
 vith God. 
 
 Lord’s day, Aug. 24.—“ Toward noon, visited some of 
 he Delawares, and conversed with them about Chris- 
 lanity. In the afternoon discoursed to the King, and 
 thers, upon divine things; who seemed disposed to 
 ear. Spent most‘of the day in these exercises. In 
 he evening enjoyed some comfort and satisfaction ; 
 nd especially had some sweetness in secret prayer. 
 ‘this duty was made so agreeable to me, that I loved 
 ) walk abroad, and repeatedly engage in it. O how 
 omfortable is a little glimpse of God! 
 
 Aug. 25.—“Spent most of the day in writing. Sent 
 ut my people that were with me, to talk with the In- 
 ians, and contract a friendship and familiarity with 
 lem, that I might have a better opportunity of treat- 
 ig with them about Christianity. Some good seemed 
 ) be done by their visit this day, many appeared will- 
 ig to hearken to Christianity. My spirits were a little 
 efreshed this evening, and I found some liberty and 
 atisfaction in prayer. 
 
 Aug. 26.—“ About noon, discoursed to a considerable 
 umber cf Indians. .God helped me, I am persuaded ; 
 ir I was enabled to speak with much plainness, and 
 pme warmth and: power; and the discourse had im- 
 ression upon some, and made them appear very se- 
 ous. I thought things now appeared as encouraging 
 
 they did at Crossweeks. At the time of my first 
 
 t to those Indians, I wasa little encouraged; I press- 
 
 things with all my might, and called out my peo- 
 
 , who were then present, to give in their testsmony 
 
—— a 
 
 288 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. 
 
 for God; which they did. Toward night, was re 
 ed; hada heart to pray for the setting up of Ge 
 kingdom here, as well as for my dear congreg: 
 below, and my dear friends elsewhere. 
 
 Aug. 28.—“In the forenoon, I was under great ¢ 
 cern of mind about my work. Was visited by 
 who desired to hear me preach; discoursed to the 
 in the afternoon with some fervency, and labored 
 persuade them to turn to God. . Was full of cone 
 for the kingdom of Christ, and found some enlarg 
 ment of soul in prayer, both in secret and in my fam 
 Scarce ever saw more clearly, than this day, that 
 God’s work to convert souls, and especially poor 
 thens. I knew I could not touch them; I saw I co 
 only speak to dry bones, but could give them no sé 
 of what I said. My eyes were up to God for help 
 could say the work was his; and if done, the g 
 would be his. 
 
 Lord's day, Aug. 31.—“Spent much time, in 
 morning, in secret duties; found a weight upon 
 spirits, and could not but ery to God with concern 
 engagement of soul. Spent some time also in readin 
 and expounding God’s word to my dear family 
 was with me, as well as in singing and prayer wit 
 them. Afterwards spake the word of God to som 
 few of the Susquehanna Indians. In the afternoor 
 felt very weak and feeble. Near night was somewhe 
 refreshed in mind, with some views of things relati 
 to my great work. O how heavy is my work, whe 
 faith cannot take hold of an almighty arm for the pi 
 formance of it! Many times have I been ready to sin! 
 in this case. Blessed be God, that I may ine ‘ 
 full fountain! 
 
 _ Sept. 1.—“Set out on a a toward a_ 
 
i 
 
 1746.) ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 287 
 
 called The great Island, about fifty miles distant from 
 Shaumoking, on the north-western branch of the Sus- 
 quehanna. Travelled some part of the way, and af 
 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 peo- 
 gle went on foot. Was very weak, on this as well as 
 he preceding days. I was so feeble and faint, that I 
 eared it would kill me to lie out in the open air; and 
 iome of our company being parted from us, So that we 
 now no axe with us, I had no way but to climb 
 . a young pine-tree, and with my knife to lop the 
 | hes, and so make a shelter from the dew. But 
 Bevcuine being cloudy, with a prospect of rain, I 
 gas still under fears of being extremely exposed : 
 Wweat much, so that my linen was almost wringing 
 et all night. I scarcely ever was more weak and 
 ary than this evening, when I was able to sit up at 
 This was a melancholy situation ; but I endeavor- 
 ho quiet myself with considerations of the possibility 
 my being in much worse circumstances amongst 
 hemies, &c. 
 Sept. 3.—“Rode to the Delaware-town; found ma- 
 y drinking and drunken. Discoursed with some of 
 e Indians about Christianity ; observed my Interpre- 
 Pmuch engaged, and assisted in his work; a few per- 
 5 seemed to hear with great earnestness and engage- 
 amt of soul. About noon, rode to a smail town of 
 auwaunoes, about eicht miles distant; spent an hour 
 two there, ard returned to the Delaware-town, and 
 iged there. Was scarce ever more confounded with 
 ense of my own unfruitfulness and unfitness for my 
 tk thannow. Owhata dead, heartless, barren, un+ 
 
 aitable wretch did I now see myself to be! My 
 5 Brainerd. 
 
290 LIFE OF NERD. 
 
 spirits, were so low, and. i was 
 wnat I could do nothing at - At length, being n 
 overdone, lay down on a buffalo-skin; but sweat m 
 the whole night. 
 
 Sept. 4.—“ Discoursed with the Indians, in the mo 
 ing, about Christianity; my Interpreter, afterwan 
 carrying on the discourse to a considerable len h 
 Some few appeared well disposed, and somewhat affect 
 ed. Left this place, and returned toward Shaumoki 
 and at night lodged in the place where I lodge¢ 
 Monday night before: was in very uncomfortable 
 cumstances in the evening, my people being late 
 not coming to me till past ten at night; so that [] 
 no fire to dress any victuals, or to keep me warn 
 keep off wild beasts; and I was scarce ever more W 
 and exhausted. However, I lay down and slept befor 
 my people came up, expecting nothing else but to s 
 the whole night alone, and without fire. 
 
 Sept. 5.—“ Was exceeding weak, so that Ie 
 searcély ride; it seemed sometimes as if I must 
 from my horse, and lie in the open woods: howe) 
 got to Shaumoking toward night: felt somewhat 
 spirit of thankfulness, that God had so far returned me 
 was refreshed to see one of my Christians, whee I 
 here in my late excursion. 
 
 Sept. 6.—“ Spent the day ina very weak state ; cough 
 ing and spitting blood, and having little appetite forat 
 food I had with me; was able to do very little, exe 
 discourse a while i divine things to my own peo 
 and to sume few I met with. Had, by this time, vel 
 little life or heart to speak for God, through feeblen 
 of body. Was scarcely ever more ashamed and e 
 founded in myself than now. I was sensible the 
 
 there were numbers of God’s people who knew . 
 
'746.} ON THE SUSQUEHANNA. 291 
 
 hen out upon a design, or atleast the pretence, of doing 
 omething for God, and in his cause, among the poor 
 ndians; and they were ready to suppose that I was 
 ervent in spirit ; but Othe heartless frame of my mind 
 illed me with confusion! O, methought, if God’s peo- 
 jle knew me as God knows, they would not think so 
 ighly of my zeal and resolution for God as perhaps 
 jow they do! I could not but desire they should see 
 ow heartless and irresolute I was, that they might be 
 ndeceived, and ‘not think of me above what they ought 
 ) think.’ And yet I thought, if they saw the utmost 
 fmy unfaithfulness, the smallness of my courage and 
 esolution for God, they would be ready to shut me out 
 { their doors, as unworthy of the company or friend- 
 hip of Christians. 
 _Lord’s day, Sept.'7—“ Was much in the same weak 
 late of body, and afflicted frame of mind, as in the 
 receding day: my soul was grieved, and mourned 
 at I could do nothing for God. Read and expounded 
 yme part of God’s word to my own dear family, and 
 Jent some time in prayer with them; discoursed alse 
 little to the Pagans; but spent the Sabbath with a 
 ttle comfort. 
 
 | Sept. 8.—“‘Spent the forenoon among the Indians; 
 the afternoon, left Shaumoking, and returned down 
 le river a few miles. Had proposed to tarry a con- 
 table time longer among the Indians upon the Sus 
 hanna, but was hindered from pursuing my ‘/pur- 
 “4 by the sickness that prevailed there, the feeble 
 ate of my own people that were with me, and espe- 
 ly my own extraordinary weakness, having beex 
 fércised with great nocturnal sweats, and a coughing 
 ) Of blood, almost the whole of the journey. I was 
 areat part of the time so feeble and faint, that it seem- 
 
 | 
 
 im 
 
292 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [{Chap. 
 
 ed as though I never should be able to reach hon 
 and at the same time very destitute of the comfor 
 and even the necessaries of life; at least, what was 
 cessary for one in so weak a state. In this journe 
 sometimes was enabled to speak the word of God w 
 some power, and divine truth made some impressio} 
 on those who heard me; so that several, both men an 
 women, old and young, seemed to cleave to us, and 
 well disposed toward Christianity ; but others moel 
 and shouted, which damped those who before seer 
 friendly, atleast some of them. Yet God, at times, ¥ 
 evidently present, assisting me, my Interpreter, 
 other dear friends who were withme. God gaveso! 
 times a good degree of freedom in prayer for the 
 gathering of souls there; and I could not but ente 
 a strong hope, that the journey would not be whe 
 fruitless. Whether the issue of it would be the sett 
 up of ‘Christ’s kingdom there, or only the drawing 
 some few persons down to my congregation in N 
 Jersey; or whether they were now only preparing 
 some farther attempts that might be made among the 
 T did not determine; but I was persuaded the jour 
 would not be lost. Blessed be God, that I had ; 
 encouragement and hope. 
 
 Sept. 9.—“ Rode down the river near thirty mil 
 Was extremely weak, much fatigued, and wet wi 
 thunder storm. Discoursed with some warmth 
 closeness to some poor ignorant souls, on the life a 
 power of religion : what were, and what were not t 
 evidences of it. They seemed much astonished whe 
 they saw my Indians ask a blessing and give thanksa 
 * dinner, concluding éhat a very high evidence of 
 in them; but were equally astonished when I insiste 
 that neither that, nor yet seeret prayer, was any st 
 
746.} AT CRANBERRY. 293 
 
 ‘ , 
 vidence of grace. Othe ignorance of the world! How 
 resome empty outward forms, that may all be entire- 
 ‘selfish, mistaken for true religion, infallible evidences 
 ‘it! The Lord pity a deluded world ! 
 Sept. 11.—“ Rode homeward ; but was very weak, 
 id sometimes scarce able to ride. Had a very impor- 
 nate invitation to preach at a meeting-house I came 
 7, te people being then gathered, but could not by 
 ason of weakness. Was resigned and composed un- 
 ir my weakness ; but was much exercised with con- 
 m for my companions in travel, whom I had left 
 th much regret, some lame, and some sick. 
 Sept. 20.—“ Arrived among my own people, (near 
 anberry,) just atnight : found them praying together; 
 mt in, and gave them some account of God’s deal- 
 38 with me and my companions in the journey ; 
 ich seemed affecting to them. I then prayed witli 
 am, and thottght the divine presence was among us ; - 
 feral were melted into tears, and seemed to have a 
 ase of divine things. Being very weak, I was obliged 
 yn to repair to my lodgings, and felt much worn 
 in the evening. Thus God has ¢arried me through 
 p fatigues and perils of another journey to the Sus- 
 Phanna, and returned me again in safety, though 
 der a great degree of bodily indisposition. O that 
 soul were truly thankful for renewed instances of 
 jrey ! Many hardships and distresses I endured in this" 
 ney ; but the Lord supported me under them all.” 
 ditherto Bratern had kept a constant diary, giving 
 ‘account of what passed from day to day, with very 
 J mterruption ; but henceforward his diary is very, 
 ich interrupted by his illness ; under which he was 
 2 brought so low, as either not to be capabie of 
 ing, or not well able to bear the burden: of a cary 
 BD 25* 
 
294 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Cha 
 
 so constant as was requisite to recollect every evel 
 what had passed in the day, and digest it, and puto 
 paper an orderly account of it. However, his diar 
 was not wholly neglected ; but he took care, from 
 to time, to take some notice in it of the most materi: 
 things concerning himself and the state of his min 
 even tiil within a few days of his death... ; 
 
 Lord’s day, Sept. 21, 1746.—* I was so weak that 
 could not preach, nor pretend to ride over to my peop) 
 in the forenoon. In the afternoon rode out; sat i 
 ehair, and discoursed to them from Rom. 14: 7, 8 
 was strengthened and helped in my diseourse, 
 there appeared something agreeable in the assem 
 I returned to my lodgings extremely tired, but th 
 ful that I had been enabled to speak a word to 
 poor people, from whom I had been so long abs 
 Was enabled to sleep very little this night, thre 
 weariness and pain. O how blessed should I be, ii 
 little I do were all done with right views! O 
 * whether I live, I might live to the Lord ; or wheth 
 die, I might die unto the Lord ; that, whether livin 
 dying, I might be the Lord’s ? 3 
 
 Sept. 27.—“ Spent this day, as well as the wi 
 week. past, under a great degree of bodily weak 
 exercised with a violent cough and a eonsider: 
 fever. I had no-appetite for any kind of food, e 
 not retain it on my stomach, and frequently had li 
 rest in my bed, owing to pains in my breast and 
 I was able, however, to ride over to my people, ak 
 two miles, every day, and take some eare of those wh 
 were then at work upon a small house for me to re: 
 in among the Indians.* I was sometimes searee 
 
 * This was the fourth house he built for his residence amon 
 the Indians. Beside that at Kaunaumeek, and that at 1 
 
| 
 
 1746.) AT CRANBERRY- 295 
 
 to walk, and never able to sit up the whole day, through 
 the week. Was calm and composed,-and but little ex- 
 ercised with melaneholy, as in former seasons of weak- 
 ness. 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, © 
 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 Jive or 
 die. Thus my time was consumed ; I had little strength 
 ‘0 pray, none to write or read, and scarce any to me- 
 ditate ; but, through divine goodness, I could with great 
 zomposure look death in the face, and frequently with 
 sensible joy. © how blessed it is to be habitually pre- 
 nared for death ! 
 | Lord’s day, Sept. 28.—‘ Rode to my people, and, 
 though under much weakness, attempted to preach 
 Tom 2 Cor. 13:5. Discoursed about half an hour, at 
 which season divine power seemed to attend the word : 
 dut being extremely weak, I was obliged to desist ; and 
 ifler a turn of faintness, with much difficulty rode to 
 ny lodgings, where, betaking myself to my bed, I lay’ 
 na burning fever, and almost delirious for several 
 ours, till, toward morning, my fever went off with a 
 molent sweat. I have often been feverish and unable 
 fo rest quietly after preaching; but this was the most 
 evere, distressing turn, that ever preaching brought 
 Npon me. Yet I felt perfeetly at rest in my own mind, 
 pecause I had made my utmost attempts to speak for 
 pd, and knew I could do no more. 
 
 "i 
 ‘orks of Delaware, and another at Crossweeksung, he built one 
 ial at Cranberry 
 
a 
 
 296 LIFE OF BRAINERD. ‘[Chep. 
 
 Oct. 4.—“ Spent the former part of this week under 
 a great degree of infirmity and disorder, as I had dot 
 several weeks before ; was able, however, to ride a Ip 
 every day, although unable to sit up half the day, 
 Thursday. ‘Took some care daily of some persons 
 work upon my house. On Friday afternoon found n 
 self wonderfully revived and strengthened. Havi 
 gome time before given notice to my people, and thi 
 of them at the Forks of Delaware in particular, that 
 designed, with the leave of Providence, to admini 
 the Lord’s supper upon the first Sabbath im October, 
 on Friday afternoon I preached preparatory to t 
 ordinance, from 2 Cor. 13 : 5; finishing what Ih 
 proposed to offer upon the subject the Sabbath befo 
 The sermon was blessed of God to the stirring up 
 gious affection and a spirit of devotion in his peop 
 and greatly affected one who had backslidden fr 
 God, which caused him to judge and condemn hims 
 I was surprisingly strengthened in my work w il 
 was speaking; but was obliged immediately after 
 repair to bed, being now removed into my own ho 
 among: the Indians. Spent’ some time in convers 
 with my people about divine things as I lay upon 1 
 bed, and found my soul refreshed, though my bo 
 was weak.—This being Saturday, I discoursed pat 
 eularly with divers of the communicants; and this) 
 fernoon preached from Zech. 12: 10. There seem 
 to be a tender melting and hearty mourning for sin, 
 numbers in the congregation. My soul was in a col 
 fortavle frame, and I enjoyed freedom and assistan 
 in public service ; was myself, as Well as most of tf 
 congregation, much affected with the humble confe 
 sion and apparent broken-heartedness of the forem 
 tioned backslider, and could not but rejoice that God 
 
 re a 
 
1746.] AT €RANBERRY- 297 
 
 had given him such a sen&e of his sin and unworthi- 
 ness. Was extiemely tired in the evening, but lay on 
 my bed, and ‘iscoursed to my people. 
 
 Lords day, Oct. 5.—“ Was still very weak; and in 
 he morning considerably afraid I should not be able 
 0 go through the work of the day; having much to 
 Jo, both in private and public. Discoursed before the 
 idministration of the Lord’s supper, from John, 1: 29, 
 Behold the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sins. 
 yf the world.’ Where I considered (1.) in what re- 
 pects Christ is called the ‘Lamb of God;’ and ob- 
 erved that he is so called, from the purity aud inno- 
 ency of his nature—from his meekness and patience 
 mder sufferings—from his being that atonement which 
 vas pointed out in the sacrifice | of lambs, and in parti- 
 ular by the pesehal lamb. (2.) Considered how ana 
 n what sense he ‘takes away the ‘Sin of the world; 
 nd observed, that the means and manner in and by 
 vhich he takes away the sins of men, was his ‘ giving 
 \imself for them,’ doing and suffering in their room 
 nd stead, &c. And he is said to take away the sin of 
 
 e world, not because all the world shall actually be 
 edeemed from sin by him, but because he has done 
 nd suffered sufficient to answer for the sins of the 
 yorld, and so to redeem all mankind ;—he actually 
 oes take away the sins of the elect acl And (3. ) 
 onsidered how we are to behold him, in order to have 
 ur sins taken away. Not with our bodily eyes; nor 
 y imagining him on the cross, &c.; but by a spiritual 
 iew of his glory and goodness, engages the soul to 
 ely on him, &c.—The divine presence attended this 
 jiscourse ; and the assembly was considerably melted 
 rith divine truth. After sermon, two made a public 
 rofession, and I administered the Lord’s: supper to 
 
 | 
 
a ~~ oe tail Ta - 
 
 208 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. 
 
 i} ‘ 
 near forty communicants Of the Indians, besides dis 
 vers dear Christians of the white people. It seeme 
 to be a season of divine power and grace; and numb 
 seemed to rejoice in God. O the swéet union and ha 
 mony then appearing among the religious peopl 
 My soul was refreshed, and my religious friends 
 the white people with me. After the ordinance, cou 
 searcely get home, though it was not more than twer 
 rods ; but was supported and led by my friends, al 
 laid on my bed; where I lay in pain till some time if 
 the evening; and then was able to sit up and discow 
 
 ‘with friends. O how was this day spent in prayers 
 and praises among my dear people! One might h 
 them, all the morning before public worship, and 
 the evening, till near midnight, praying and singi 
 praises to God, in one or other of their houses. 
 ‘soul was refreshed, though my body was weak. 
 Oct. 11.—“ Toward night was seized with an ague, 
 which was followed with a hard fever and conside 
 able pain; was treated with great kindness; and ¥ 
 ashamed to see so much concern about so unworthy 
 creature as I knew myself to be. Was in a comfe 
 able frame of mind, wholly submissive, with regard te 
 life or death. Jt was indeed a peculiar satisfaction” 
 me, to think fhat it was not my concern or business’ 
 determine whether I should live or die. I likey 
 felt peculiarly satisfied, while under this uncomm 
 degree of disorder; being now fully convinced of 
 being really weak, and unable to perform my work. 
 Whereas, at other times, my mind was perplexed w 
 fears that I was a misimprover Of time, by conceiving 
 I was sick, when I was not in reality’so. O how pre 
 cious is time! And how guilty it makes mé feel, when 
 J think that I have trifiled away and misimproved i 
 
 f 
 
i i s = 
 
 746.4: AT CRANBERRY. 299 
 
 3 neglected to fill up each part of it with duty, to the 
 itmost of my ability and capacity! 
 Lord's day, Oct. 19.—“ Was scarcely able to do any 
 hing at all in the week past, except that on Thursday 
 ‘rode out about four miles ; at which time I took cold. 
 is I was able to do little or nothing, so I enjoyed not 
 auch spirituality, or lively OS affection; though 
 tsome times I longed much to be more fruitful and 
 l of heavenly affection; and was grieved to see the 
 ours slide away, while I could do nothing for God.— 
 able this week to attend public worship. Was 
 posed and comfortable, willing either to die or 
 ; but found it hard to be reconciled to the thoughts 
 living useless. Oh that I might never live to bea 
 arden to God’s creation; but that I might be allowed 
 pair home, when my sojourning work is done!” 
 is week, he went back to his Indians at Cran- * 
 , to take some care of their spiritual and tempo- 
 concerns ; and was much spent with riding, though 
 erode but @ little way in a day. 
 Oct. 23.—“ Went to my own house, and set things 
 1order. Was very weak, and somewhat melancholy; 
 bored to do something, but had no strength; and 
 fas forced to lie down on my bed, very solitary. 
 | Oct. 24.—“ Spent the day in overseeing and direct- 
 ag my people, about mending their fence and secur- 
 ag their wheat. Found that all their concerns of a 
 ecular nature depended upon me. Was somewhat 
 freshed.in the evening, having been able to do some- 
 ag valuable in the day-time. O how it pains me to 
 e time pass away, when I can do nothing to any 
 
 Deore day, Oct. 26.—* In the morning was exceed- 
 agly weak. Spent the day, till near night, in pain, to 
 
300 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [-Chap. 
 
 see my poor people wandering ‘as sheep not havin 
 a shepherd, waiting and hoping to see me able t 
 preach to them before night. It could not but distres 
 me to see them in this case, and to find myself unab 
 to attempt any thing for their spiritual benefit. 
 toward night, finding myself a little better, I ce 
 them together to my house, and sat down, and 
 and expounded Matthew, 5:1—16. This disco 
 though delivered in much weakness, was attended w 
 power to many of the hearers; especially what y 
 spoken upon the last of these verses; where I insist 
 on the infinite wrong done to religion, by having ¢ 
 light become darkness, instead of shining before m 
 Many in the congregation were now deeply affect 
 with a sense of their deficiency with respect to a 5 
 ritual conversation which might recommend religic 
 to others, and a spirit of concern and watchfulne 
 seemed to be excited in them. One, in particular, wl 
 had fallen in the sin of drunkenness some time befor 
 was now deeply convinced of his sin, and the grea 
 dishonor done to religion by his misconduct, ani 
 discovered a_great degree of grief and concern on th 
 account. My soul was refreshed to see this; al 
 though I had no strength to speak so much as I wot \ 
 have done, but was obliged to lie down on the bed, ye 
 I rejoiced to see such an humble melting in the com 
 gregation, and that divine truths, though faintly d 
 vered, were aitended with so much efficacy upon 
 auditory. 
 
 Oct. 27.—“ Spent the day in overseeing and di 
 ing the Indians about mending the fence round 7 
 wheat: was able to walk with them, and contrive the 
 business, all the forenoon. In the afternoon, was ¥ 
 sited by two dear friends, and spent some time in cor 
 
746.) AT CRANBERRY. 301 
 
 ersation with them. Toward night I was able to 
 yalk out, and take care of the Indians again. In the 
 vening, enjoyed a very peaceful frame. 
 "Oct. 28.— Rode to Princeton in a very weak state, 
 ad such a violent fever by the way, that I was forced 
 ) alight at a friend’s house, and lie down for some 
 me. Near night, was visited by Mr. Treat, Mr. Beaty 
 nd his wife, and another friend. My spirits were re- 
 eshed to see them; but I was surprised, and even 
 shamed, that they had taken so much pains as to ride 
 irty or forty miles to see me. Was able to sit up 
 ost of the evening; and spent the time in a very 
 ymfortable manner with my friends. 
 Oct. 29.—“ Rode about ten miles with my friends 
 © came yesterday to see me; and then parted with 
 em all but one, who stayed on purpose to keep me 
 eeeny, and cheer my spirits. 
 Lord's day, Nov. 2.— Was unable to preach, and 
 cely able to sitwp the whole day. Was grieved, 
 Rircost sunk, to see my poor people destitute of the 
 eans of grace; especially as they could not read, and 
 bs under great disadvantages for spending the 
 
 bath comfortably. ©, methought, I could:be con- 
 ited to be sick, if my poor flock had a faithful pastor 
 feed them with spiritual knowledge! A view of 
 .. want of this was more afllictive to me than all my 
 dily illness. 
 Nov. 3.—“ Being now in so weak and low a state 
 at I was utterly incapable of performing my work, 
 d having little hope of recovery, unless by much 
 ing, I thought it my duty to take a journey into 
 /-England, and to divert myself among my friends, 
 om I had not now seen for a long time. Accord- 
 
 ly I took leave of my congregation this day. Be 
 Brainerd, 
 
 i 
 i 
 
302 LIFE OF BRAINERD Lc 
 
 fore I left my people, I visited them all in their resp 
 tive houses, and discoursed to each one, as T though 
 most proper and suitable for their circumstances, ani 
 found great freedom in so doing. I scarcely left ¢ 
 house but some were in tears; and many were 
 only affected with my being about to leave them, 
 with the solemn addresses I made them upon divi 
 things; for I was helped to be fervent in spirit w i 
 discoursed to them. When I had thus gone throug! 
 my congregation, which took me~most of the ¢ 
 and had taken leave of them, and of the school, I 
 home, and rode about two miles, to the house whel 
 lived in the summer past, and there lodged. Was 
 freshed this evening, because I had left my congre 
 tion so well disposed and affected, and had been 
 much assisted in making my farewell addresses to 
 Nov. 5.—* Rode to Elizabethtown; intending 
 soon as possible, to prosecute my journey into 
 England; but was, in an hour or two after my arr 
 taken much worse. For near a week I was confine¢ 
 my chamber, and most of the time to my bed; 
 then so far revived as to be able to walk abou 
 house; but was still confined within doors. } 
 “ In the beginning of this extraordinary turn of ( 
 order after my coming to Elizabethtown, I was eI 
 abled, through mercy, ‘to maintain a calm, compose 
 and patient spirit, as I had been before from the begin 
 ning of my weakness. After I had been in Elizabett 
 town about a fortnight, and had so far recovered th 
 I was able to walk about the house, upon a day ™ 
 thanksgiving kept in this place, I was enabled to ree 
 the mercies of God in such a manner as greatly affee 
 ed me, and filled me with thankfulness and 
 Especially my soul praised God for his work of 
 
1746. | AT ELIZABETHTOWN 303 
 
 among the Indians, and the enlargement of his dear 
 kingdom. My soul blessed God for what he is in him- 
 self, and adored him, that he ever would display him- 
 self to creatures. I rejoiced that he was God, and 
 onged that all should: know it, and feel it, and rejoice 
 mit. ‘Lord, glorify thyself” was the eae and ery 
 4 my soul. O that all people might love and praise 
 he blessed God ; that he might have all possible honor 
 ind glory from the intelligent world ! 
 _ “After this comfortable thanksgiving season, I fre- 
 quently enjoyed freedom, enlargement, and engaged- 
 iess of soul in prayer; and was enabled to mtercede 
 with God for my dear congregation, very often for 
 wvery family, and every person in particular. It was 
 yften a' great comfort to me, that I could pray heartily 
 0 God for those to whom I could not speak, and whom 
 / was not allowed to see. But, at other times, my spi- 
 ‘its were so low, and my bodily vigor so be wasted, 
 
 t I had scarce any affections at all. 
 
 “Tn December, I had revived so far as to be able to 
 
 abroad and visit’my friends, and seemed to be> 
 
 er 21, when I attended public worship, and labored 
 mich, at the Lord’s table, to bring forth a certain cor- 
 so and have it alain: as being an enemy to God 
 
 3 health, in the main, until Lord’s day, Decem- 
 
 my Own soul; and could not but hope that I had 
 ined some strength against this, as well as other cor- 
 uptions; and felt some brokenness of heart for my sin. 
 
 After this, having perhaps taken some cold, I began 
 0 decline as to bodily health; and continued to do so 
 li the latter end of January, 1747. Having a violent 
 ugh, a considerable fever, an asthmatic disorder, and 
 Oappetite for any manner of food, nor any power of 
 gestion, I was reduced to so low a state, that my 
 | 
 
304 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap 
 
 friends, I believe, generally despaired of my life; 3 
 some of them, for a considerable time, thought I ¢ 
 searce live a day. I could then think of nothing w 
 any application of mind, and seemed to be in a gi 
 measure void of all affection, and was exereised 
 great temptations; but yet was not, ordinarily, af 
 of death. 
 
 Lord’s day, Feb. 1.—“ Though in a very weak: 
 low state, I enjoyed a considerable degree of com 
 and sweetness in divine things; and was enable 
 plead and use arguments with God in prayer, I th 
 with a child-like spirit. That passage of seriptui 
 curred to my mind, and gave me-great assistance 
 ye, being evil, know how to give good gifts to 
 children, how much more will your heavenly F 
 give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him? Thi 
 I was helped to plead, and insist upon; and saw tht 
 vine faithfulness engaged for dealing with mek 
 than any earthly parent can do with his child. 
 season so refreshed my soul, that my body seeme¢ 
 to bea gainer by it. From this time I began gradu 
 to amend. -AsJ recovered some strength, vigor,’ 
 spirit, I found at times some freedom and life in the 
 ercises of devotion, and some longings after spiritu 
 and a life of usefulness to the interests of the great 
 deemer. Atother times, I was awfully barren and] 
 less, and out of frame for the things of God; so th 
 was ready often to cry out, ‘O that it were witlid m 
 in months past!’ O that God had taken me awaj 
 the midst of my usefulness, with a sudden stroke, | 
 I might not have been under a necessity of trifling aw 
 time in diversions! © that I had never lived to sp 
 so much precious time.in so poor a manner, and t 
 little purpose! Thus I often reflected, was grié 
 
'747.} AT ELIZABETHTOWN. 30% 
 
 ashamed, and even confounded, sunk, and discouraged. 
 
 Feb. 24.—“1 was able to ride as far as Newark, 
 ‘having been confined in Elizabethtown almost four 
 nonths,) and the next day returned to Elizabethtowm. 
 My spirits were somewhat refreshed with the ride, 
 hough my body was weary. 
 
 Feb. 28.—Was visited by an Indian of my own con 
 sregation, who brought me letters, and good news of 
 he sober and good behavior of my people in general. 
 Phis refreshed’ my soul. I could not but retire and 
 less God for his goodness; and found, I trust, a truly 
 hankful frame of spirit, that God creme to be build- 
 ug up that congregation for himself. 
 
 March 4.—“1 met with reproof from a friend, which, 
 though I thought I did not deserve it from hii, yet 
 vas, I trust, blessed of God to make me more tenderly 
 ifraid of sin, more jealous over myself, and more con- 
 erned to keep both heart and life pure and unblame- 
 ible. It likewise caused me to reflect on my past dead- 
 less and want of spirituality, and to abhor myself, and 
 o0k on myself as most unworthy. This frame of 
 mind continued the next day; and for several days 
 fter, I grieved to think that.in my necessary diver- 
 ions I had not maintained more seriousness, solemni- 
 , and heavenly affection and conversation. Thus 
 y spirits were often depressed and sunk; and yet, I 
 st, that reproof was made to be beneficial to me. 
 
 March 11, being kept in Elizabethtown asa day of 
 asting and prayer, I was able to attend public worshi P; 
 hich was the first time I had been able so to do since 
 mber 21. O how much weakness and distress did 
 od carry me through in this space of time! But 
 
 ving obtained help from him,’ I yet live. O that 
 ape live more to his glory! 
 
 ! 26* 
 
[Chap: 
 
 Lords day, March 15.—“ Was able again to atte} 
 public worship, and felt some earnest desires of bei 
 restored to the ministerial work: felt, I think, so 
 spirit and: life to speak for God. 
 
 March 18.—“ Rode out with a design to visit 
 people, and the next day arrived among tiem; 1 
 was under great dejection in my journey. 
 
 “On Friday morning I rose early, walked ab 
 among my people, enquired into their state and ¢ 
 cerns, and found an additional weight and burde 
 my spirits, upon hearing some things disagreeable. 
 endeavored to go to God with my distresses, and mi 
 some kind of lamentable complaint, and im a brok 
 manner spread my difficulties before God; but notw 
 standing, my mind continued very gloomy. Abi 
 ten o’clock I called my people together, and af 
 having explained and sung a psalm, I prayed ¥ 
 them. There was considerable affection among the 
 I doubt not, in some instances, that which was m 
 than nore natural.” 
 
 This was the last interview whith he ever had wi 
 his people. About eleven o’clock the same day he 
 them, and the next day came to Hlizabethtown.: — 
 
 March 28.—“ Was taken this morning with vie 
 griping pains. These pains were extreme and © 
 stant’ for several hours; so that it seemed imposs' 
 for me, without a miracle, tolive twenty-four hour: 
 such distress. I lay confined to my bed the w 
 day, and in distressing pain all the former part o 
 but it pleased God to bless means for the abatemer 
 my distress. Was exceedingly weakened by this p 
 and continued so for several days following; being 
 ercised with a fever, cough, and noeturnal sweats. 
 this distressed case, so long as my head was fre 
 
 306 LIFE OF BRAINERD’ 
 
 - 
 
i 
 (747.] a? ELIZABETHTOWN. 307 
 
 vapory confusions, death appeared agreeable to me. 
 {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 entertainmenis 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 
 fo be drawn by desires of a state of perfect holiness! 
 » April 4.—“ Was sunk and dejected, very restless and 
 Mneasy,. by reason of the misimprovement of time; 
 and yet knew not what to do. I longed to spend time 
 mm fasting and prayer, that I might be delivered fronr 
 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 com- 
 posure of soul! It is impossible, I find, to enjoy this 
 ppiness without redeeming iime, and maintaining 2 
 iritual frame of mind. 
 » Lord's day, April 5.—“It grieved me to find myself 
 0 inconceivably barren. My soul thirsted for grace; 
 t, alas, how far was I from obtaining what appeared 
 me so exceeding excellent! I was ready to despair 
 ever being a holy ereature, and yet my soul was de- 
 ous of ‘ following hard after God ;’ but never did 
 See myself so far from ‘having apprehended, or being 
 ready perfect,’ as at this time. The Lord’s supper 
 ing this day administered, I attended the ordinance; 
 d though I saw in myself a dreadful emptiness and 
 vant of grace, and saw myself as it were at an infinite 
 listance from that purity which becomes the gospel, 
 et at the communion, especially during the distribu- 
 on of the bread, I enjoyed some warmth of affection, 
 and felt a tender love to the brethren; and, I think, to 
 he glorious Redeemer, the first-born among them. 
 
 ’ 
 
owt 
 
 308 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. 1 
 
 endeavored then to bring forth mine and his ‘enemies, 
 and ‘slay them before him;’ and found great freedom 
 in begging deliverance from this spiritual death, a 
 well as in asking divine favors for my friends and ec 
 gregation, and the church of Christ in general. _ 
 April 10.—“This day my brother John arrived at 
 Elizabethtown. Spent some time in conversation wi 
 him ; but was extremely weak.” 
 This brother had been sent for by the Corresponé deni 
 to take care of and instruct Brainerd’s congregation 
 Indians ; he being obliged by his illness to be absent 
 from at He continued to take care of them 
 Brainerd’s death, and was soon after ordained his s 
 cessor in his mission, and to the charge of his cong 
 gation. 
 April 17.—“ In the evening, could not but think th 
 God helped me to ‘draw near to the throne of grace 
 though most unworthy, and gave me a sense of his f 
 vor; which afforded me inexpressible support and et 
 couragement. Though I scarcely dared to hope thi 
 the mercy was real, it appeared so great; yet could ni n 
 but rejoice that ever God should discover his reco! 
 eiled face to such a vile sinner. Shame and confusion, 
 at times, covered me ; and then hope, and joy, and ad 
 miration of divine goodness gained the ascendaney. 
 Sometimes I could not but admire the divine goodnes 
 that the Lord had not let me fall into all the grosse 
 and vilest acts of sin. “7% 
 April 20.—“ Was ina very disordered state, and kept 
 my bed most of the day. I enjoyed : a little more com- 
 fort than in several of the preceding days. This dat 
 T arrived at the age of twenty-nine years. 
 April 21.—“I set out on my journey for New- Eng- 
 
 % 
 
(1747) IN CONNECTICUT. 309 
 
 land, in order (if it might be the will of God) to recover 
 my health by riding.” 
 
 ' This proved his final departure from New-Jersey. 
 He travelled slowly, and arrived among his friends at 
 East-Haddam, about the beginning of May. There is 
 very little account in his diary, of the time that passed 
 from his setting out on his journey to May 10. He 
 Speaks of his sometimes finding his heart rejoicing in 
 ‘the glorious perfections of God, and longing to live to 
 him; but complains of the unfixedness of his thoughts, 
 and their being easily diverted from divine subjects, 
 and cries out of his leanness, as testifying against him, 
 mm the loudest manner. Concerning those diversions 
 which he was obliged to use for his health, he says, 
 that he sometimes found he could use diversions with 
 singleness of heart,” aiming at the glory of God; but 
 that he also found there was a necessity of great care 
 and watchfulness, lest he should lose that spiritual tem- 
 per of mind in his diversions, and lest they should de- 
 generate into what was merely selfish, without any 
 Supreme aim at the glory of God in them. 
 
 | Lord’s day, May 10.—“T could not but feel some 
 ‘measure of gratitude to God at this time, that he had 
 lalways disposed me, in my ministry, to insist on the 
 [great doctrines of regeneration, the new creature, faith 
 in Christ, progressive sanctification, supreme love to 
 | God, living entirely to the glory of God, being not our 
 own, and thelike. God thus helped me to see, in the 
 
 )surest manner, from time to time, that these, and the 
 ing doctrines nee connected with them, are the 
 jonly foundation of safety and salvation for perishing 
 ‘sinners and that those divine dispositions which are 
 feonsonant hereto, are that holiness, ‘ without which no 
 luau shall see the Lord’ The exercise of these God- 
 
 i 
 
™ 
 
 ~ 
 
 ‘Ing, in secret meditation and | 
 
 310 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. |] 
 
 like tempers—wherein the soul acts in a kind of co} 
 cert with God, and would be and do every thing that 
 is pleasing to him—I saw, would stand by the soul 
 a dying hour; for God must, I think, deny himself 
 he cast away his own image, even the soul that is o1 
 in desires with himself. 
 Lord’s day, May 17.—“ Spent the forenoon at hom 
 being unable to attend public worship. At this time, 
 God gave me such an affecting sense of my own vilés 
 ness, and the exceeding sinfulness of my heart, thi 
 there seemed to be nothing | but sin .and corrupti 
 within me. ‘ Innumerable evils compassed me about 
 my want of spiritua Rak d holy living, my neglect: 
 God, and living to myself. All the abominations 
 my eae and life seemed to be open to my view; a 
 I had nothing to say, but, ‘God be merciful to | 
 sinner.’ Toward noon, I saw that the grace of 
 in Christ is infinitely free toward sinners, such sinn 
 as I was. I also saw that God is the supreme goo 
 that in his presence is life; and I began to long to di 
 that I might be with him, in a state of freedom fro) 
 all sin. O how a small glimpse of his excelleney r 
 freshed my soul! O how worthy is the blessed Gi 
 to be loved, adored, and delighted in, for himself, f 
 his own divine excellcueied ! 
 “Though i felt much dulness, and want of a a 
 of prayer this week, yet I had some glimpses of f 
 excellency of divine things; and especially one mor 
 r, the excelleney 
 -to the gloriot 
 
 and tied of holiness, as a 
 
 perfection. I seemed to long for this perfect holin eS, 
 not so much for the sake of my own happiness, ab 
 
i 
 
 ie) ; 3 \ 
 
 747] IN NORTHAMPTON. 3il 
 
 hough I saw clearly that this was the greatest, yea, the , 
 mly happiness of the soul, as that I might please God, 
 ive entirely to him, and glorify him to the utmost 
 tretch = | Ptional powers and capacities, 
 
 Lord’s day, May 24.—“ (At Long-Meadow, in Mas- 
 achusetts.) Could not but think, as I have often re- 
 iarked to others, that much more of true religion con- 
 ists in deep humitity, brokenness of heart, and an abas- 
 ng sense of barrenness and want of grace and holiness, 
 lan most who are called Christians imagine ; especi- 
 lly those who have been esteemed the converts of the 
 ite day. Many seem to know of no other religion 
 ut elevated joys and affections, arising only from some 
 ights of imagination, or some suggestion made to their 
 und, of Christ being their’s, God loving them, and the 
 ke.” 
 
 On Thursday, May 28, he came from Long-Meadow ' 
 ) Northampton, appearing vastly better than, by his 
 count, he had been in the winter—indeed so well, 
 lat he was able to ride twenty-five miles in a day, and 
 1 walk half a mile; and appeared cheerful, and free 
 om melancholy ; 5 but yet he was iidouhijedhy: at that 
 Ime, in a confirmed, incurable consumption: 
 
 I had had much opportunity, before this, of partieu- 
 r information concerning him, from many who were 
 ell acquainted with him ; and had enjoyed a personal 
 terview with him, at New-Haven, near four years 
 fore, as has been already mentioned; but now I had 
 portunity for a more;full acquaintance. T found him 
 arkably sociable, pleasant, and entertaining in his 
 mversation ; yet solid, Savory, spiritual, and very 
 fitable. He appeared meek, modest, and humble; far 
 m any stiffness, mioroseness, or affected coasalaniey 
 Speech or behavior, and seeming to dislike all such 
 
ies 
 
 812 LIFE OF BRAINERD. 
 
 things. We enjoyed not only the benefit of his: 
 yersation, but had the comfort and advantage of jj 
 ing with him in family prayer, from time to time. | 
 manner of praying was very agreeable, most hee 
 ing a worm of the dust and a disciple of ist, 
 dressing an infinitely great and holy God, the 
 of mercies; not with florid expressions, or as ut 
 eloquence ; not with any intemperate vehemence, 
 indecent boldness. It was at the greatest distance fi 
 ‘ any appearance of ostentation, and from every thi 
 that might look as though he meanj,to recomm 
 himself to those that were about him, or set himself ¢ 
 theiracceptance. It was free also from vain repetit 
 without impertinent excursions, or needless multi 
 ing of words. He expressed himself with the-st 
 propriety, with weight and pungency ; and yet, ¥ 
 his lips uttered seemed to flow from the fulness of 
 heart, as deeply impressed with a great and sol 
 sense of our necessities, unworthiness, and depende 
 and of God’s infinite greatness, excellency and s 
 ciency, rather than merely from a warm and frui 
 brain, pouring out good expressions. , I know not | 
 I ever heard him so much as ask a blessing or ret 
 thanks at table, but there was something remarkah 
 ve observed both in the matter and manner of the pet 
 formance. In his, prayers, he insisted much on 
 prosperity of Zion, the advancement of Christ’s k 
 dom in the world, and the flourishing and propag 
 of religion among the Indians. And he generally mi 
 it one petition in his prayer, “ that we wight not outlir 
 our usefulness.” 
 Lord’s day, May 31.—* (At Northampton.) Tha 
 little inward sweetness in religion most of the wes 
 past ; not realizing and beholding spiritually the glot 
 
1747.] IN NORTHAMPTON. 313 
 
 of God and the blessed Redeemer ; from whence al- 
 ways arise my comforts and joys in religion, if I have 
 ary 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 
 aninterest in Christ, and shall be finally saved, isa 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 co7- 
 sumption, and that he could give him no encourage- 
 Ment that he would ever recover. But it seemed not 
 lo 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 
 is conversation. 
 - Lord’s day, June 7.—“ My attention was greatly en- 
 raged, and my soul so drawn forth this day, by what 
 -heard of the ‘exceeding preciousness of the saving 
 trace of God’s Spirit” that it almost overcame my 
 iody, in my weak state. I saw that true grace is ex- 
 dingly precious indeed; that it is very rare; and 
 fat there is but a very small degree of it, even where 
 € reality of it is to be found; at least I saw this to be 
 case. 
 “Tn the preceding week, I enjoyed some comforta- 
 Seasons of meditation. One morning, the cause of 
 tod appeared exceedingly precious to me. The Re- 
 mer’s kingdom is all that is valuable in the earth, 
 nd I could not but lung for the promotion of it in the 
 yorld: Isaw also, that this cause is God’s; that he 
 as an infinitely greater regard and concern forit than 
 
 ‘Could possibly have ; that if I have any true love to 
 } fig ir Brainerd. 
 
» 
 
 314 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. 1 
 
 this blessed interest, it is only a drop derived from the 
 ocean. Hence I was ready to ‘lift up my head wii 
 joy,’ and conclude, ‘ Well, if God’s cause be so des 
 and precious to him, he will promote it.” Thus I did 
 as it were, rest on God that he would surely promo 
 that which was so agreeable to his own will; thoug] 
 the time when, must still be left to his sovereign ple 
 sure.” 
 He was advised by physicians still to continue 
 ing, as what would tend, above any other means, t 
 prolong his life. He was at a loss, for some time, whic 
 way to bend his course ; but finally determined to i 
 from hence to Boston ; we having concluded that or 
 of our family should go with him, and be helpful 
 him in his weak and low state. 
 June 9.—“I set out ona journey from Northampt 
 
 to Boston. Travelled slowly, and got some acquai 
 ance with a number of ministers on the road. 
 “Having now continued to ride for a considera 
 time, I felt much better than I had formerly done, at 
 found, that in proportion to the prospect Thad of bei 
 restored to a state of usefulness, I desired the contin 
 ance of life; but now death appeared inconceival 
 more desirable to me than a useless life; yet, blesse 
 be God, I found my heart, at times, fully resigned ai 
 reconciled to this greatest of afflictions, if God saw? 
 thus to deal with me. 
 June 12.—“I arrived in Boston this day, somewh 
 fatigued with my journey. Observed that there is) 
 rest but in God; fatigues of body, and anxieties of 
 mind, attend us both in town and country : no place 
 exempt. ; 
 Lord’s day, June 14.—“I enjoyed some enlarg 
 ment and sweetness in family prayer, as well as in s 
 
1747.J 4T BOSTON. 315 
 
 ret exercises; God appeared excellent, his ways full 
 f pleasure and peace, and all I wanted was a spirit of 
 oly fervency to live to him. 
 
 June 17.—“ This and the two preceding days I spent 
 nainly in visiting the ministers of the town, and was 
 reated with great respect by them. 
 
 June 18.—“I was taken exceedingly ill, and brought 
 0 the gates of death, by the breaking of small ulcers 
 a my lungs, as my physician supposed. “In this ex- 
 remely weak state I continued for several weeks ; and 
 yas frequently reduced so low as to be utterly speech- 
 28s, and not so much as to whisper a word. Even af- 
 ar I had so-far revived as to walk about the house, and 
 7 step out of doors, I was exercised every day with a 
 tint turn, which continued usually four or five hours; 
 t which times, though I was not so utterly speechless 
 ut that I could say yes or no, yet I could not con- 
 erse at all, nor speak one sentence, without making 
 tops for breath ; and a number of times my friends 
 athered round my bed, to see me breathe my last, 
 which they expeeted every moment, asI myself also did. 
 “How I was, the first day or two of my illness, with 
 ard to the exercise of reason, I scarcely know. I 
 ieve I was somewhat shattered with the violence 
 ‘the fever at times ; but the third day of my illness; 
 d constantly afterward, for four or five weeks to- 
 ther, I enjoyed as much serenity of mind, and clear- 
 of thought, as perhaps ever in my life. I think 
 t my mind never penetrated with so much ease and 
 feedom into divine things, as at this time ; and I never 
 It so capable of demonstrating the truth of many im- 
 i. doctrines of the Gospel asnow. As I saw clearly 
 he truth of those great doctrines, which are justly styled 
 ne doctrines of grace ; so Isaw with no less clearness; 
 
316 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [chepil 
 
 mityte God, atid acting aba all selfish views for h is, £ 
 TY, ae to be for him, to live to him, and please a 
 honor him ia all things; and this from a clear vie} 
 _ his infinite excellency and worthiness in himself, te 
 loved, adored, worshipped, and served by all int 
 gent creatures. Thus I saw, that when a soul loves | 
 with a supreme love, he therein acts like the bles: 
 God himself, who most justly loves himself in t 
 manner. So when God’s interest and his are beee 
 one, and he longs that God should be glorified, an 
 joices to think that he is unchangeably , possessed 
 the highest glory and blessedness, herein also he 
 in conformity to God. In like manner, when the s 
 is fully resigned to, and rests satisfied and content wi 
 the divine will, here it is also conformed to God. 
 “ T saw farther, that as this divine temper, by w 
 the soul exalts God, and treads self in the dust, 
 wrought in the soul by God’s discovering his own g 
 rious perfections in the face of Jesus Christ to it by 
 special influences of the Holy Spirit, so he cannot 
 have regard toit as his own work; and as it is | 
 image in his soul, he cannot but ‘akan delight in 
 Then I saw again, that if God should slight and reje 
 his own moral image, he must needs deny himse 
 which he cannot do. And thus! saw the stability a 
 infallibility of this region ; and that those who are tt 
 ly possessed of it, have the most complete and satis 
 ing evidence of their being interested in all the ber 
 fits of Christ’s redemption, having their hearts conion 
 ed to him; and that these, and these only, are qualifi 
 for the employments and entertainments of God’s king 
 dom of glory ; as none but these have any relish f 
 the business of heaven, which is & ascribe glory 
 
47.) AP BOSTON- 317 
 
 od, and not to themselves ;.and.that God (though L 
 ould speak it with great reverence of his name and 
 rfection) cannot, without denying himself} finally: 
 st such away. 
 “The next thing I had then to do, was to inquire 
 hether this was my religion ; and here God was pleas- » 
 to help me to the most easy remembrance and criti- ~ 
 l review of what had passed in course, of a-religious 
 ture, through several of the latter years of my life. 
 though I could discover much corruption: attending 
 y best duties, many selfish views and carnal ends, 
 uch spiritual pride and self-exaltation, and innume- 
 ble other evils which compassed me about, yet God 
 as pleased, as I was reviewing, quickly to put this 
 jestion out of doubt, by showing me that 1 had, from . 
 ne to time, acted ~sBs the utmost influence of mere 
 Iflove ; that I had longed. to please and glorify him, 
 my highest happiness, &c.- This review was, through. 
 ace, attended with a present feeling of the same di- 
 ne temper.of mind. I felt now pleased to think of 
 glory of God, and longed for heaven, as- a state 
 herein I might glorify him perfectly, rather than a- 
 ace of happiness for myself. This feeling of the love 
 God in my heart, which I trust the Spirit of God ex- 
 ted in me afresh, was-sufficient to give me a full’sa- 
 faction, and make me long, as I had. many times be-, 
 re done, to be with Christ. 
 As God was pleased to afford me clearness of 
 ought, and composure of mind, almost continually 
 several weeks, under my great weakness ;.so he 
 led me, in.some measure, to-improve my time, as 
 Ope, to valuable purposes. I was enabled to write 
 umber of important letters to friends in remote 
 3; and sometimes I wrote when I was speechless, 
 B 2T* 
 
318 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap 
 i.e. unable to maintain conversation with any be 
 though perhaps I was able to speak a word or 
 as to be heard. 
 
 *“ At this season also, while I was confined at Be 
 { read with care and attention some papers of old M 
 Shepard, lately come to light, and designed ford 
 press; and, as I was desired and greatly urged, 
 some corrections where the sense was left dark 
 want of a word or two. Beside this, I had ma 
 sitants, with whom, when I was able to speak, I al 
 conversed of the things of religion, and was pecul 
 assisted in distinguishing between the érwe and 
 religion of the times. There is scarcely any s 
 which has been matter of controversy of late, bat I 
 
 - at one time or other compelled to discuss and show 
 opinion respecting it, and that frequently before 
 bers of people. Especially, I discourséd repeated]} 
 the nature and necessity of that humiliation, self-e 
 tiness, or full conviction of a person’s being ull 
 undone in himself, which is necessary in orde 
 saving faith ; and the extreme difficulty of being brau 
 to this, and the great danger there is of persons fal 
 up with some self-righteous appearances of it. ' 
 danger of this I especially dwelt upon, being persua 
 that multitudes perish in this hidden way ; and bee 
 *so little is said from most pulpits to discover any 
 ger here; sv that persons being never efieetually bro 
 to die in themselves, are never truly united to Chr 
 and so perish. I also discoursed much on what! 
 to be the essence of true religion ; endeavoring pla 
 to describe that god-like temper and disposition of § 
 and that holy conversation and behavior, which i 
 justly claim the honor of having God for its origi 
 and patron. I have reason to hope God blessed | 
 
 -* 
 
1747.] AT BOSTON. 319 
 
 way of discoursing and distinguishing to some, both 
 ministers and people ; so that my time was not wholly 
 lost. ” 
 
 He was visited while in Boston by many, who showed 
 him uncommon respect, and appeared highly pleased 
 and entertained with his conversation. Beside being 
 honored with the company and respect of ministers of 
 he town, he was visited by several ministers from va- 
 tious parts of the country. He took all opportunities 
 jo discourse on the peculiar nature and distinguishing 
 characteristics of true, spiritual, and vital religion ; and 
 ‘0 bear his testimony against the various false appear- 
 ances of it, consisting in, or arising from impressions 
 yn the imagination, sudden and supposed immediate 
 suggestions of truth not contained in the Scripture, 
 ind that faith which consists primarily in a person’s 
 is that Christ died for him in particular, &e. 
 
 at he said was, for the most part, heard with un- 
 sommon attention and regard; and his discourses and 
 
 sonings appeared manifestly to have great weight 
 md influence with many with whom he conversed, 
 oth ministers and others. 
 The Commissioners in Boston, of the Society in 
 ondon for propagating the Gospel in New-England 
 md parts adjacent, having received a legacy of the 
 ate kev. Dr. Daniel Williams, of London, for thesup- 
 rt of two missionaries to the heathen, were pleased, 
 hile he was in Boston, to consult him eee a mission 
 0 those Indians called the Six Nations, particularly re- 
 ecting the qualifications requisite in a missionary to 
 hose Indians. They were so satisfied with his senti- 
 ments on this head, and had such confidence in his 
 aith fulness, his idemuame and discretion in things of 
 his nature, that they desired him to undertake to find 
 
~ 320 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. 
 
 and recommend two persons fit to be employed in th 
 business ; and very mueh left the matter with him. 
 
 Bratnerp’s restoration from his extremely low st 
 in Boston, so as. to go abroad again, and te travel, .wa 
 very unexpected to him and his friends. My daughte 
 who was with him, writes thus concerning him, in 
 letter dated June 23: 
 
 “On Thursday, he was very ill with a violent feve 
 and extreme pain in his head and breast, and at tu 
 delirious. So-he remained till Saturday evening, whe 
 he scemed.to be in the agonies of death; the family v 
 up with him till one or two o’clock,. expecting thi 
 every hour would be his last. On Sabbath day: he y 
 a little revived, his head was better, but he was ve 
 full of pain, exceeding sore at his breast,and had gre 
 difficulty in breathing. Yesterday he was better. 
 night he slept but little. This morning he was m 
 worse. Dr. Pynchon says, he has no hope of his life 
 nor does he think it likely that he will ever come ot 
 of the chamber ; though he says he may be able 
 come to Northampton.” : 
 
 In another letter, dated June 29, she says :—“ M 
 Brarnerp has not so much pain, nor fever, since I la 
 " wrote, as:‘before; yet he is extremely weak and lov 
 and very faint, expecting every day will be his las 
 He says it is impossible for him to live, for he ha 
 hardly vigor enough to draw his breath. I went th 
 morning into town, and when I came home, Mr. Bror 
 field satd he never expeeted I should see him alive, fi 
 he lay two hours, as they thought, dying; one cot 
 searcely tell whether he was-alive or not; he was i 
 able to speak for some time; but now is much as 
 was before. The doctor thinks he will drop away I 
 such a turn. Mr. Braiverp says, he never felt an 
 
 : 
 
1747.] AT BOSTON. 321 
 
 hing so much like dissolution as that he felt to-day ; 
 ind says, he never had any conception of its being 
 wussible for any creature to be alive, and yet so weak 
 is he is from day to day. Dr. Pynchon says, he shouid 
 10t be surprised if he should so recover as to live half 
 }year; nor would it surprise him if he should die in 
 alfa day. Since I began to write, he is not so well, 
 laving hada faint tin again: yet he is patient and re- 
 igned, having no distressing fears, but the contrary.” 
 He expressed himself to one of my neighbors, who 
 t that time saw him in Boston, that he was as certain- 
 yadead man, as if he was shot through the heart. 
 but so it was ordered ’in divine Providence, that the 
 rengti of nature held out, and he reviyed, to the as- 
 cs of all who knew his case. 
 After he began to revive, he was visited by his 
 oungest brother, Isrart, a student at Yale College; 
 tho having heard of his extreme illness, went from 
 rence to Boston, in order to see him; if hie might find 
 im alive, which he but. little expected. Bratnerp 
 reatly rajoiced to see his brother, especially because 
 e had desired an opportunity of some religious con- 
 ersation with him before he died. But this meeting 
 fas attended with sorrow, as his brother brought to 
 im the tidings of his sister Spencer’s death, at Had- 
 4m; a sister, between whom and him had long sub- 
 sted a peculiarly dear aifection, and much intimacy 
 ‘Spiritual things, and whose house he used to make 
 sown when he went to Haddam, his native place. 
 jut he bad a confidence of her being gone to heaven, 
 d an expectation of soon meeting her there. His 
 rother continued with him till he left the town, ‘and 
 me with him from thence to Northampton. Con- 
 prning the last Sabbath Brainerd spent in Boston, he 
 rites in his diary as follows; 
 
322 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. 
 
 _ Lord's day, July 19.—“ I was just able to atte 
 public worship, being carried to the house of God ii 
 chaise. Heard Dr. Sewall preach in the forenc 
 partook of the Lord’s supper at this time. In this 
 dinance I saw astonishing divine wisdom display 
 such wisdom as clearly required the tongues of ang 
 and glorified saints to celebrate. It seemed to me fi 
 Inever should do any thing at adoring the infin 
 wisdom.ot God, discovered in the contrivance of ma 
 redemption, until I arrived at a world of perfectic 
 yet I could not help striving ‘to call upon mys 
 and all within me, to bless the name of God.” In 
 afternoon, heard Mr. Prince preach. I saw more 
 God in the wisdom discovered in the plan of ma 
 redemption, than I saw of any other of his perfectio 
 through the whole day.” 
 The next day, having bid an affectionate: farewell 
 his friends, he set out in the’eool of the afternoon, 
 his journey to Northampton, attended by his brot 
 and my daughter, who went with him to Boston; a 
 would have been accompanied out ef the town bj 
 number of gentlemen, besides the respected pers 
 who. gave him his company for some miles on # 
 occasion, as a testimony of their esteem and resp 
 had not his aversion to any thing of pomp and shi 
 prevented it. : 
 July 25.—* I arrived here, at Northampton; hav 
 set out from Boston on Monday, about 4 o’clock P.! 
 In this journey I usually rode about sixteen miles 
 day. Was sometimes extremely tired and faint on th 
 road, so that it seemed impossible for me to proce 
 any further; at other times I was considerably bett 
 and felt some freedom both of body and mind. : 
 Lord’s day, July 26.—“ This day I saw clearly thai 
 
a 
 
 47.) AT NORTHAMPTON. 323 
 
 should never be happy; yea, that God himself could 
 t make me happy, unless I could be in a capacity to 
 lease and glorify him for ever” Take away this, 
 id admit me in all the fine heavens that can be con- 
 ived of by men or angels, and I should still be mi- 
 rable for ever.” 
 Though he had so revived as to be able to travel 
 us far, yet he manifested no expectation of recovery. 
 € supposed, as his physician did, that his» being 
 ought so near to death at Boston, was owing to the 
 eaking of ulcers in his lungs. He told me that he 
 d several such ill turns before, only not to so high 
 legree, but, as he supposed, owing to the same cause, 
 the breaking of ulcers; that he was brought lower 
 lower every time; that it appeared to him, that in 
 3 last sickness he was brought as low as he could be, 
 d yet live; and that he had not the least expectation 
 surviving the next return of this breaking of ulcers; 
 still appeared perfectly caim in the prospect ot 
 ath. 
 On Wednesday morning, the week after he came to 
 wthampton, his brother Israel left us for New-Haven, 
 he took leave of him, never expecting to see him 
 in in this world. 
 hen Brarwerp came hither, he had so much strength 
 to be able, from day to day, to ride out two or three 
 and sometimes to pray in the family; but from 
 time he gradually decayed, becoming weaker and 
 er. As long as he lived, he spoke much of that 
 re prosperity of Zion which is so often foretold and 
 mised in the Scriptures ; it was a theme upon which 
 delighted to dwell; and his mind seemed to be car- 
 id forth with earnest concern about it, and intense 
 sires that religion might speedily and abundantly re- 
 
te 
 
 “4 
 | e 
 324 LIFE OF wnllteeie, ~ [Chay 
 
 vive and fiourish; yea, the nearer death advanced, 
 the more the symptoms of its approach increased| 
 the more did his mind seem to be taken up with | 
 subject. He told me, when near his end, that 
 hever, in all his life, had his mind so led forth in 
 sires and earnest prayers for the flourishing of Ch 
 kingdom on earth, as since he was brought so e x 
 ing low at Boston.” He seemed much to wonder | 
 there appeared no more of a disposition in minis 
 and people to pray for the flourishing of relig 
 through the world; that so little a part of their pray 
 was generally taken up about it, in their families ; 
 elsewhere. Particularly, he several times exp S 
 his wonder that there appeared no more forward! 
 to comply with the proposal lately made, in a Me 
 riai from a number of ministers in Scotland, and § 
 over into America, for united extraordinary pra 
 amongst Christ’s ministers and people, for the com 
 of Christ’s kingdom: and sent it as his dying ady ie 
 his own congregation, that they should practise i ag! 
 ably to that proposal. 
 
 Though he was constantly exceeding weak, 
 there appeared in him a continual care well to impre 
 time, and fill it up with something that might be 
 fitable, and in some respect for the glory of God o 
 good of men; either profitable conversation, or wrili 
 letters to absent friends; 01 noti something i in 
 diary ; or looking over his former writings, corree 
 them, and preparing them to be left in‘the hand 
 others at his death ; or giving some directions conee 
 ing the future matiagomieul of his peaple; or in sec 
 devotions. He seemed’ never to be easy, however 
 if he was not doing something for God, or in his 
 vice. After he came hither, he wrote a prefice to 
 
147.4 AT NORTHAMPTON. 325 
 
 ary of Mr. Sueparp, contained in the papers above 
 entioned, which has since been published. 
 In his diary for Lords day, August 9, he speaks of 
 nging desires after death, through a sense of the ex- 
 Hency of a state of perfection. In his diary for 
 ors day, August 16, he speaks of his having so 
 uch refreshment of soul in the house of God, that it 
 emed also to refresh his body. And this is not only 
 ted in his diary, but was very observable to-others ; 
 was apparent, not only that his mind wasexhilarated 
 inward consolation, but also that his animal spirits 
 bodily strength seemed to be remarkably restored, 
 though he had forgot his illness. But this was the 
 t time that ever he attended public worship on the 
 th. 
 On Tuesday morning that week, as I was absent on 
 ey, he prayed with my family, but not without 
 ach difficulty, for want of bodily strength ; and this 
 is the last family prayer that he ever made. He had 
 n wont, till now, frequently to ride out, two or three 
 les: but this week, on Thursday, was the last time 
 ever did so. 
 's day, Aug. 23.—“ This morning I was con- 
 ly refreshed with the thought, yea, the hope 
 expectation of the enlargement of Christ’s king- 
 3; and I could not but hope that the time was at 
 when Babylon the great would fall, and ‘rise no 
 2 This led me to some spiritual meditations, 
 were very refreshing to me. I was unable to 
 public worship either part of the day ; but God 
 pleased to afford me fixedness and satisfaction in 
 ine thoughts. Nothing so refreshes my soul, as when 
 go to God, yea, ‘to God my exceeding joy.’ 
 28 Brainerd. 
 
: 
 
 326 LIFE. OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. 
 
 When he is such to my soul, O how unspeakably 
 lightful is this ! 
 “In the week past I had divers turns of inward. 
 freshing, though my body was inexpréssibly weak, 
 lowed continually with agues and fevers. Sometir 
 my soul centered in God, as my only portion; an 
 felt that I should be for ever unhappy, if He did | 
 reign. I saw the sweetness and happiness of being 
 subject, at his disposal. This made all my difficu [ 
 quickly vanish.” é' 
 Till this week he had been wont to lodge in a re 
 above stairs, but he now grewso weak, that he was 
 longer able to go up stairs and down. Friday, Au 
 28, was the last time he ever went above stairs; hen 
 forward he betook himself to a lower room. ; 
 ‘On Wednesday, Sept. 2, being the day of our pu 
 lecture, he seemed to be refreshed with seeing 
 neighboring ministers who came hither to the lect 
 and expressed a great desire once more to go te 
 , iouse of God on that day; and accordingly rode to 
 meeting, and attended divine service, while the F 
 Mr. Woodbridge, of Hatfield, preached. - He sig nif 
 that he supposed it to be the last time he should e 
 attend public worship ; as it proved. ‘Indeed it was 
 last time that he ever went out of our gate. q 
 On the.Saturday evening next following, he was 
 expectedly visited by his brother, Mr. Joan Bratne 
 who came to see him from New-Jersey. He was m 
 refreshed by this unexpected visit, this brother beit 
 peculiarly dear tc him; and he seemed to rejoice in é 
 devout and-solemn manner, to see him, and to hear 
 the comfortable tidings which he brought concernit 
 tie state of his dear congregationof Christian Indian 
 A circumstance of this visit, of which he was exceed- 
 
: 
 1747. J AT NORTHAMPTON. 327 
 
 ingly glad, was, that his brother brought him some of 
 his private writings from: New-Jersey, and particularly 
 his diary, which he had kept for many years past. 
 | Lord's day, Sept. 6.—“ I began to read some of my 
 private writings which my brother brought me, and 
 was considerably refreshed with what I found in them. 
 _ Sept. 7.—“ I proceeded. further in reading my old 
 ivate writings, and found that they had the same 
 upon me as before. I could not but rejoice and 
 | God for what passed long ago, which, without 
 yriting, had been entirely lost. 
 ' “ This evening, when I was in great distress of body, 
 
 y soul longed that God showld be glorified. O that 
 foul for ever live to God! The day, I trust, is at 
 
 d, the perfect day. O the day of deliverance from 
 sin! 
 
 Lords day, Sept. 13.—* I was much refreshed and 
 sngaged in meditation and writing, and found a heart 
 to.act for God. My spirits. were refreshed, and sd 
 
 1 delighted to do something for God.” 
 
 :. the evening of that Lord’s day, his feet heean 
 0 swell ; dnd thenceforward swelled more and more: 
 h symptom of his dissolution coming on. The next 
 lay, his brother John left him, being obliged to return 
 9 New-Jersey on some business of great importance 
 and necessity ; intending to return again with all pos- 
 sible speed, hoping to see his brother yet once more in 
 he land of the living. 
 | Brarnerp having now, with much deliberation, con- 
 sidered the subject referred to him by the commission- 
 ers of the Society for propagating the Gospel in New- 
 ingland and parts adjacent, wrote them about this 
 time, recommending two young gentlemen of his ac- 
 
 laintance, Mr. Elihu Spencer, of East Haddam, and Mr. 
 
328 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. EX 
 
 Job Strong, of Northampton, as suitable missionari 
 to the Six Nations. The commissioners, on the rece 
 of this letter, cheerfully and unanimously agreed to ( 
 cept of and employ the persons whom he had recon 
 mended. 
 On Wednesday, Sept. 16, he wrote to some chari 
 gentlemen in Boston in behalf of the Indian scho 
 showing the need of anotherschoolmaster, or some pe 
 son to assist the schoolmaster in instructing the Ind) 
 children. These gentlemen, on the receipt of his lett 
 had a meeting, and agreed with great cheerfulness 
 give £200 (in bills of the old tenor) for the suppe 
 another schoolmaster ; and desired the Rev. Mr. Pei 
 berton, of New-York, (who was then at Boston, and w 
 also at their desire, present at the meeting,) as soor 
 possible to procure a suitable person for that servi 
 and also agreed, in accordance with an intimation f 
 Brarerp, to allow £75 to defray some special char 
 which were requisite to encourage the mission to 
 Six Nations. fl 
 Brarnerp spent himself much in writing a let 
 being exceedingly weak ; but it seemed to ch 
 his satisfaction that he had been enabled to doi it, he 
 ing that it was something done for God, and wi 
 might be for the advancement of Christ’s kingdom 
 glory. In writing the last of these’ letters, he 
 obliged to use the hand of another. 
 On Thursday of this week, (Sept. £7,) when hel v 
 out of his lodging-room for the last time, he was ag 
 visited by his brother IsrarL, who continued with him 
 tillhis death. On that evening he was taken with son 
 thing of a diarrhea, which he looked upon as anotht 
 sign ofhis approaching death ; whereupon he express i 
 himself thus: “Oh, the glorious time is now coming 
 
1747.] AT NORTHAMPTON. 329 
 
 I have longed to serve God perfectly: now God will 
 gratify those desires!” And from time to time, at the 
 several steps and new symptoms of the sensible ap- 
 proach of his dissolution, he was so far from being 
 sunk or depressed in spirits, that he seemed to be anz- 
 mated and made more cheerful, as being glad at the 
 appearance of death’s approach. He often used the 
 £pithet glorious, when speaking of the day of his death. 
 galling it that glorious-day. And as he saw his disso- 
 lution gradually approaching, he talked much about it ; 
 and with perfect calmness spoke of a future state. He 
 also settled all his affairs, giving directions very parti- 
 cularly 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 tobe todepart. He several times spoke of the 
 different kinds of willingness to die; and represented 
 it as an ignoble, mean kind, to be willing to leave the 
 body only to get rid of pain; or to go to heaven only 
 to get honor and advancement there. 
 _ Sept. 19.—“ Near night, while I attempted to walk a 
 little, my thoughts turned thus: ‘ How infinitely sweet 
 to love God, and be all for him’? Upon which it was 
 suggested to me, ‘ You are not an angel, not lively and 
 lactive” To which my whole soul immediately replied, 
 ‘1 as sincerely desire to love and glorify God as any 
 angel in heaven.’ Upon which it was suggested again, 
 ki But you are filthy, not fit for heaven.’ Hereupon in- 
 /stantly appeared the blessed robes of Christ’s righte- 
 /ousness, 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, ‘Ido not go to heaven to get 
 
ell iy 
 
 330 LIFE OF BRAINERD. LChap. IX. 
 
 honor, but to give all possible glory and praise.’ 
 how I longed that God should be glorified on ea 
 also! OIwas made for eternity, if God might! 
 glorified! Bodily pains I cared not for; though I wi 
 then in extremity, I never felt easier. I felt willing 
 glorify God in that state of bodily distress as long as 
 he pleased I should continue in it. The grave appear 
 ed really sweet, and I longed to lodge my weary bo 
 in it; but O that God might be glorified! this was tl 
 - burden of all my ery. OI knew that I should be a 
 tive as an angel in heaven, and that I should be stri 
 ped of my filthy garments! so that there was no ¢ 
 jection. But, O to love and praise God more, to plea 
 him for ever! this my soul panted after, and even no’ 
 pants for, while I write. Oh that God might be glor 
 fied in the whole earth! ‘ Lord let thy kingdom com 
 I longed for a spirit of preaching to descend and re 
 on ministers, that they might address the conscience 
 of men with closeness and power. I saw that Ge 
 had the residue of the Spirit, and my soul longed 
 it should be ‘ poured from on high. I could not b 
 plead with God for my dear congregation, that he 
 would preserve it, and not suffer his great name to lo: 
 its glory in that work ; my soul still longing that Ge 
 might be glorified.” 
 The extraordinary frame he was in that evening 
 could not be hid. “ His mouth spake out of the abun 
 dance of his heart,” expressing in a very affecting ma 
 ner 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 is to please God, and glorify him, and to giveali” 
 to him, and to be wholly devoted to his glory ; that : 
 te heaven I long for; that is my religion, and that is 
 
 ni 
 
1747.] AT NORTHAMPTON. 331] 
 
 my happiness, and always was, ever since I suppose [ 
 had any true religion; and all those that are of that 
 religion shall meet me in heaven. I do not go to hea- 
 ven to be advanced, but to give honor to God. It isno 
 matter where I shall be stationed in heaven, whether I 
 have a high or low seat there; but to love, ud please, 
 and glorify God is all. Had I a thousand souls, if they 
 ‘were worth any thing, I would give them all to God; 
 but I have nothing to give when all is done. It is itm 
 possible for any rational creature to be happy without 
 : acting all for God ; God himself could not make him 
 happy any other way. I long to be in heaven, prais- 
 ing and glorifying God with the holy angels; all my 
 desire is to glorify God. My heart goes out to the bu- 
 tying place ; it seems to me a desirable place: but O to 
 glorify God ! that is it; thatis above all. It isa great 
 comfort to me to think that I have done a little for God 
 in the world; Oh! it is but a very small matter, yet I 
 have done a little, and I lament 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 élse 
 in the world that can yield any satisfaction besides 
 living to God, pleasing him, and doing his whole 
 will. My greatest joy and comfort has been to-do 
 something for promoting the interest of religion and 
 the souls of particular persons; and now, in my ill- 
 mess, while I am full of pain and distress from day 
 to day, all the comfort I have is in being able to do 
 some little service for God, either by something I say, 
 or by writing, or in some other way.” 
 | He intermingled with these, and other like expres- 
 sions, many pathetical counsels to those who were 
 about him, particularly to my children and servants, 
 
 i 
 } oa 
 
 | 
 
332 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. rool 
 
 He applied nimself 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 i 
 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 : 
 He counselled them not to be slack in the great busi-« 
 ness of religion, nor in the least to delay it; enforcin| 
 his counsels with this, that his words were the word 
 of a dying man. Said he, “I shall die here, and her 
 I shall be buried, and here you will see my grave, é 
 I wish you to remember what I have said to you. 
 am going into eternity; and it is sweet for me 
 think of eternity ; the endlessness of it makes it sweet 
 but O what shall I say of the eternity of the wicked? 
 I cannot mention it, nor think of it; the thought is to 
 dreadful. When you see my grave, then remember 
 what I said to you while I was alive; then think how 
 the man who lies in that grave counselled and warnet 
 you to prepare for death.” 
 His body seemed to be marvellously strengthened 
 through the inward vigor and refreshment of his mind 
 so that, although before he was so weak that he coul 
 hardly utter a sentence, yet now he continued his mo: 
 affecting and profitable discourse to us for more than 
 an hour, with scarce any intermission ; and said of 
 when he had done, “it was the last sermon that eve 
 he should preach.” This extraordinary frame of mi ad 
 pein air the next day, of which he speaks in his 
 iary as follows: 
 per day, Sept. 20.— Was still in a sweet and 
 comfortable frame, and was again melted with desires 
 $ 
 
1747.] AT NORTHAMPTON. ‘B38 
 
 that God might be glorified, and with longings to love 
 and live to him. Longed for the influences of the 
 divine Spirit to descend on ministers in an especial 
 manner. And O-I longed to be with God, to behold 
 his glory, and to bow in his presence.” 
 
 It appears by what is noted in his diary, both of this 
 day and the evening preceding, that his mind at this 
 time was much impressed with a sense of the impor- 
 tafice of the work of the ministry, and the need of the 
 grace of God, and his special spiritual assistance in 
 this work ; it also appeared in what he expressed in 
 conversation, particularly in his discourse to his bro- 
 ther 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 devoted- 
 ness to God, and an earnest endeavor to obtain much 
 of the grace of God’s Spirit, and God’s gracious in- 
 
 uences on his heart ; representing the great need in 
 which ministers stand of them, and the unspeakable 
 denefit of them, from his cwn experience. Among 
 many other expressions, he said thus: “When minis- 
 bl feel these special gracious influences on their 
 nearts, it wonderfully assists them to come at the con- 
 epee of men, and as it were to handle them with 
 lands ; whereas, without them, whatever reason and 
 
 | * This brother was ingenious, serious, studious, and hope- 
 ally pious; there appeared in him many qualities giving hope 
 /f his being agreat blessing in hisday. But it pleased God, 
 joon after the death of his brother, to take him away also. He 
 lied that winter at New-Haven, January 6, 1748, of a nervous 
 ever, after about a fortnight’s illness. 
 
 H 
 
334 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. 0 
 
 oratory we make use of, we do but make use of stumps 
 instead of hands.” 
 
 Sept. 21.—“ I began to correct a little volume of m 
 private writings. God, I believe, remarkably help 
 me in it; my strength was surprisingly lengthene 
 out, my thoughts were quick and lively, and my so) 
 refreshed, hoping it might be a work for God. O 
 good, how sweet it is to labor for God! 
 
 Sept. 22.—“ Was again employed in reading 4 
 correcting, and had the same success as the day b 
 fore. I was exceeding weak, but it seemed to refre 
 my soul thus to spend time. S 
 
 Sept. 23.—“I finished my corrections of the lit 
 piece before mentioned, and felt uncommonly peac 
 ful; it seemed as if I had now done all my work1 
 this world, and stood ready for my call to a bette 
 As long as I see any thing to be done for God, life 
 worth having; but O how vain and unworthy it is’ 
 live for any lower end! This day I indited a letter, 
 think, of great importance, to the Rev. Mr. Byram, 
 New-Jersey. Oh that God would bless and succeed th 
 letter, which was written for the benefit of his church 
 Oh that God would ‘purify the sons of Levi,’ that h 
 glory may beadvanced! This night I endured a drea 
 ful turn, wherein my life was expected scarce an ho 
 or minute. But, blessed be God, I have enjoyed ce 
 siderable sweetness in divine things this week, both! 
 night and day. 
 
 Sept. 24.—“ My strength began to fail exceedingl} 
 which looked, further, as if I had done all my work 
 
 *It was concerning the qualifications of ministers, and the 
 sxamination and licensing of candidates for the work of t 
 ministry. 
 
1747.5 AT NORTHAMPTON. 335 
 
 however, I had strength to fold and superscribe my 
 letter. About two I went to bed, being weak and much 
 disordered, and lay in a burning fever till night, with- 
 ut any proper rest. In the evening I got up, having 
 ain down in some of my clothes ; but was in the great- 
 sst distress, having an uncommon kind of hiccough; . 
 which either strangled me, or threw me into a strain- 
 ng to vomit, accompanied with other,griping pains. 
 ) the distress of this evening! I had little expectation 
 f living the night through, nor indeed had any about 
 me; and I longed for the finishing moment! I was 
 ybliged to repair to bed by six o’clock; and through 
 mercy enjoyed some rest; but was grievously dis- 
 ressed at turns with the hiccough. My soul breathed 
 ifter God, ‘ When shall I come to God, even to God, 
 ny exceeding joy ? Oh for his blessed likeness! 
 
 ’ Sept. 25.—“ I was unspeakably weak, and little bet- 
 er than speechless all the day ; however, I was able to 
 vrite a little, and some part of the day was comfort- 
 ble. Oit refreshed my soul to think of former things, 
 f desires to glorify God, of the pleasures of living to 
 im! O, blessed God, I am speedily coming to thee, 
 ae Hasten the day, O Lord, if it be thy blessed 
 ill. O come, Lord Jesus, come quickly. Amen.f 
 
 | Sept. 26.—“ I felt the sweetness of divine things this 
 66x; and had the consolation of a consciousness 
 hat I was doing something for God. 
 
 | Lord’s day, Sept. 27.—“ This was a very comfortable 
 ay to my soul; I think, lawoke with God. I was en- 
 Woled to lift up my soul to God, early this morning ; 
 
 | + This was the last time that ever he wrote in his diary with 
 is own hand; though itis continued a little farther, in a broken 
 Janner; written by his brother Israel, but indited by his mouth, 
 p this his weak and dying state. 
 
336 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. | 
 
 and while I had little bodily strength, I found freedo 
 
 to lift up-my heart to God for myself and others. A 
 terward, was pleased with the thoughts of speedil 
 entering into the unseen world.” 
 
 He felt this morning an unusual appetite for foe 
 
 . with which his mind seemed to be exhilarated, lookir 
 on itasasign of the very near approach of death. / 
 this time he also said, “I was born oa a Sabbath-dai 
 andI have reason to think I was new-bor on a Sabbati 
 day; and I hope I shall die on this Sabbath-day. 
 shall look upon it as a favor, if it may be the will @ 
 God that it should be so: I long for thetime. O, wh 
 is his chariot so long in coming ? why tarry the whee 
 of his chariot ? I am very willing to part with all: 
 am willing to part with my dear brother John, ant 
 never to see him again, to go to be forever with th 
 Lord.* O, when I go there, how will God’s dear chure 
 on earth be upon my mind !” 
 
 Afterward, the same morning, béing asked how h 
 did, he answered, “I am almost in eternity; 1 long 
 be there. My rer is done; I have done with all m 
 friends: all the world is nothing to me. I long to b 
 in heaven, praising and glorifying God with the holj 
 angels. All my desire is to glorify God.” 
 
 During the whole of these last two weeks of his. 
 he seeined to continue in this frame of heart, as having 
 finished his work, and done with all things here belo} 
 He had now nothing to do but to die, and to abide in an 
 
 * He had, before this, expressed a desire, if it might be ; 1€ 
 will of God, to live till his brother returned from New-Jerse’ 
 who, when he went away, intended, if possible, to perform his 
 journey, and return in a fortnight; hoping once more to meet 
 his brother in the land of the living. The fortnight was “i 
 nearly expired. 
 
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1747.] AT NORTHAMPTON. 337 
 
 earnest desire and expectation of the happy moment, 
 when his soul should take its flight to a state of perfect ° 
 heliness, in which he should be found perfectly glori- 
 fying and enjoying God. He said, “the consideration 
 of the day of death, and the day of judgment, had a long 
 time been peculiarly sweet to him.” From time to 
 time he spake of his being willing to leave the body 
 and the world immediately—that day, that night, that 
 moment—if it was the will of God. He also was much 
 engaged in expressing his longings that the Church of 
 Christ on earth might flourish, and Christ’s kingdom 
 here be advanced, notwithstanding he was about to 
 leave the earth, a shouid 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 pour- 
 ing out of God’s Spirit, and the advancement of Christ’s 
 
 ingdom, for which the Redeemer did and suffered so 
 
 uch. It is that especially which makes me long for 
 it” He expressed much hope that a glorious advance- 
 ment of Christ’s kingdom was near at hand. 
 
 He once told me, that “he had formerly longed for 
 he outpouring of the Spirit of God, and the glorious 
 imes of the church, and hoped they were coming ; and 
 that he should have been willing to live to promote re- 
 igion at that time if that had been the will of God: but,” 
 ays he, “Iam willing it should beasit is; I wouldnot 
 have the choice to make for myself, for ten thousand 
 worlds.” He expressed on his death-bed a full persua- 
 sion that he should in heaven see the prosperity of the 
 
 church on earth, and should rejoice with Christ there. 
 29 Brainerd. 
 
338 © LIFE OF BRAINERD. Chap. IX 
 
 in; 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 long- 
 ings that they might be filled with the Spirit of God, 
 He manifested much desire to see some of the neigh- 
 boring ministers with whom he had some acquain 
 ance, and of whose sincere friendship he was confid 
 that he might converse freely with them on that s 
 ject 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 Chris- 
 tian Indians in New-Jersey ; when he spake of them, 
 it was with peculiar tenderness, so that his spee I 
 ‘would be presently interrupted and drowned will 
 tears. 
 He also expressed much satisfaction in the disposal 
 of Providence with regard to the circumstances of 
 his death ; particularly that God had before his death 
 given him an opportunity in Boston, with so many 
 considerable persons, ministers and others, to give if 
 his testimony for God against false religion, and many 
 mistakes that lead to it and promote it. He wasmuch 
 . pleased that he had had an opportunity there to lay 
 before pious and charitable gentlemen the state of th : 
 Indians, and their necessities, to so good effect ; and that 
 God had since enabled him to write to them furthe P 
 concerning these affairs ; and to write other lette of 
 importance, which he hoped might be of good influ- 
 ence with regard to the state of religion among the 
 Indians, and elsewhere, after his death. He expressed 
 great thankfulness tv God for his merey in these things. 
 
1747.] AT NORTHAMPTON. 339 
 
 He also mentioned it as what he accounted a merciful 
 circumstance of his death, that he should die here. 
 Speaking of these things, he said, “God had granted 
 him all his desire;” and signified that now he couid 
 joyfully leave the world. 
 Sept. 28,—“I was able to read and make some few 
 corrections in my private writings, but found I could 
 
 ‘not write as I had done; I found myself sensibly de- 
 clined in all respects. It has been only from a little 
 
 ‘while before noon till about one or two o’clock, that 1 
 
 have been able to do any thingfor some time past; yet 
 it refreshed my heart that I could do any thing, either 
 
 public or private, that I hoped was for God.” . 
 
 _ This evening he was supposed to be dying, both by 
 himself and by those about him. He seemed glad at 
 the appearanve of the near approach of death. He was 
 
 almost speechless, but his lips appeared to move, and 
 one that sat very near him heard him utter such ex- 
 
 pressions as these: “Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly. 
 
 _Owhy is his chariot so long in coming?” After he re- 
 
 _vived, he blamed himself for having been too eager to 
 
 be gone. And in expressing what was the frame of his 
 
 | mind at that time, he said he then found an inexpres- 
 | sibly sweet love to those whom he looked upon as be- 
 | longing to Christ, beyond almost all that ever he felt 
 | before ; so that it seemed, to use his own words, “like 
 
 _ alittle piece of heaven to have one of them near him.” ° 
 
 | And being asked whether heheard the prayer that was, 
 
 | at his desire, made with him, be 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.” 
 
 | Onthe evening of Tuesday, Sept. 29, as he lay on his 
 
 | bed, he seemed to be in an extraordinary frame; his 
 
 | 
 
 | 
 
et a 
 340 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. IX 
 
 mind greatly engaged in sweet meditations conce 
 
 the prosperity of Zion. 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, —- 
 Zion’s prosperity. Andon his desire we sung a 
 
 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 proceed- 
 ed, with some freedom of speech, to give his dying 
 
 counsels to these young gentlemen relative to their pr } 
 paration for the great work of the ministry; and in 
 particular, earnestly recommended to them freque 
 secret fasting and prayer; and enforced his counse 
 with regard to this, from his own experience of {] 
 great comfort and benefit of it; “which,” said he, “] 
 should not mention, were it not that lam a dying per 
 son.” After he had finished his counsel, he made 
 prayer in the audience of us all; wherein, besides pray 
 ing for this family, for his brethren, and those candidates 
 for the ministry, and for his own congregation, he ear 
 nestly prayed for the reviving and flourishing of reli 
 gion 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 cor 
 rected about a dozen pages in my manuscript, giving 
 an account of my conversion. 
 
 Oct. 1—“T endeayored again to do something J 
 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 
 
1747] .AT NORTHAMPTON. 341 
 
 ‘delirious; but it was not long before God was pleased 
 to give me some sleep, and fully compose my mind.* 
 O blessed be God for his great goodness to me, since I 
 was so low at Mr. Bloomfield’s on Thursday, June 18. 
 He has, except those few minutes, given me the clear 
 exercise of my reason, and enabled me to labor much 
 for him in things both of a public and private nature, 
 and perhaps to do more good than I should have dane 
 if I had been well; besides the comfortable influences 
 of his’ blessed Bainit, 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 longed to be with him, that I might be- 
 hold 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 eter- 
 nity. 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? O 
 come, Lord Jesus, come quickly! Amen.” 
 | Here ends his diary. These are the last words which 
 are written in it, either by his own hand, or by any 
 other. from his ruth : 
 
 The next evening we very much expected his bro- 
 ther John from New-J ersey ; it being about a week after 
 the time that he proposed for his return, when he went 
 away. Theugh our expectations were still disappoint- 
 -ed, yet Bratnerp seemed to continue unmoved, in the 
 ‘same calm and peaceful frame which he had before 
 
 | *From this time forward he had the free use of his reason 
 til the day before his death; except that at some times he ap- 
 | peared a little lost for a moment when first waking out of ees 
 
 B 29* 
 
342 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [ Chap. 
 
 manifested; as having resigned all to God, and hay 
 done with his friends, and with all things here bele 
 
 On-the morning of the next day, being Lord’s d 
 Oct. 4, as my daughter Jerusha, who chiefly attende 
 him, came into the room, he looked on her very plea 
 santly, and said, “ Dear Jerusha, are you willing to pe 
 with me ?”—“I am quite willing to part with you 
 am willing to part with all my friends: Tam willing 
 part with my dear brother John, although I love hi 
 the best of any creature living: I have committed hi 
 and all my friends to God, and can leave them wi 
 God. Though, if I thought I should not see you, an 
 be happy with you in another world, I could not be 
 to part with you. But we shall spend an happy et 
 nity together !"* In the evening, as one came into 
 room with a Bible in her hand, he expressed himse 
 thus: “O that dear book—that lovely book! I sk 
 soon see it opened! The mysteries that are in it, al 
 
 * In about four months, it pleased a holy and sovereign G 
 to take away this my dear child by death, on the 14th of y 
 ruary, after a short illness of five days, in the eighteenth 
 of her age. She was a person of much the same spirit Wi 
 Bratnerp. She had constantly taken care of, and attend 
 him in his sickness, for nineteen weeks before his death; de 
 ting herself to him with great delight, because she looked | 
 him as an eminent servant of Jesus Christ. In this time 
 had much conversation with her on the things of religion; 
 in his dying state, often expressed to us, her parents, his g re 
 satisfaction concerning her true piety, and his ennfidence t 
 he sbould meet her in heaven. She had manifested a heart 
 commonly devoted to God; and said on her death-bed, 
 ‘she had seen no time for several years, when she desired! 
 live one minute Jonger, for the sake of any other good in lif 
 but doing good, living to God, and doing what might be for 
 
 glory.” eS 
 
1747.) A’? NORTHAMPTON. 343 
 
 the mysteries of God’s providence, will be all un- 
 folded !” 
 
 On Tuesday, Oct. 6, he lay for a considerable time 
 as if he were dying; at which time he was heard to 
 utter, in broken whispers, such expressions as these: 
 “He will come, he will not tarry. I shall soon 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 ne- 
 cessary. Brainero was affected and refreshed with 
 seeing him, and appeared fully satisfied with the rea- 
 sons of his delay; seeing the interest of religion and 
 jthe souls of his people required it. 
 _ The next day, Thursday, Oct. 8, he was in great dis- 
 ‘tress and agonies of body; and for the greater part of 
 the day was much disordered as to the exercise of his 
 ‘Teason. In the evening he was composed, and had 
 the use of his reason; but the pain of his body con- 
 oe and increased. He told me that it was impos- 
 sible for any one to conceive of the distress he felt in 
 \his breast. He manifested muck concern lest he should 
 dishonor God by impatience under his extreme agony; 
 | which was such, that he said the thought of enduring 
 jit one moment longer was almost insupportable. He 
 ) desired that others would be much in lifting up their 
 hearts continually to God for hima, that God would sup- 
 | port him, and give him patience. He signified that he 
 | expected to die that night; but seemed to fear a longer 
 | delay ; and the disposition of his mind with regard to 
 | death, appeared still the same that it had been all along. 
 
 l 
 
 i 
 iy 
 
a 
 
 344 LIFE OF BRAINERD. | Chap. 
 
 And notwithstanding his bodily agonies, yet the inte- 
 rest of Zion lay still with great weight on his mir 
 On that evening he had considerable discourse wit 
 _the Rev. Mr. Billing, one of the neighboring minister 
 concerning the great importance of the work of th 
 ministry. Afterward, late in the night, he had mue 
 very proper and profitable discourse with his bro h 
 John, concerning his congregation in New-Jersey, at 
 the interest of religion among the Indians. In th 
 latter part of the night his bodily distress seemed { 
 rise to a greater height than ever. Toward day h 
 eyes became fixed; and he’ continued lying immoy, 
 ble till about six o’clock on Friday, Oct. 9, 1747, whi 
 his soul, as we may well conclude, was received by h 
 dear Lord and Master into that state of perfection 
 holiness, and fruition of God, for which he had so o 
 and so ardently longed; and was welcomed by the gl 
 rious assembly in the upper world, as one peculiarl 
 fitted to join them in their blessed employ and enj 
 ment. , 
 
 Much respect was shown to his memory at his 
 ral; which was on the Monday following, after a sel 
 mon preached on that solemn occasion. His funer 
 was attended by eight of the neighboring ministers, 
 and a great concourse of people. 
 
 ‘ 
 
 : ’ 
 CHAPTER &. : 
 Reflections on the preceding Memoirs. a 
 REFLECTION 1. +@ 
 
 Tn the life of Bratnerp we may see, as I apprehend, 
 the nature of true religion, and the manner of its opé 
 7 * 
 
Chap. X.] REFLECTIONS. 345 
 
 ration, When exemplified in a high degree and in pow- 
 erful exercise. Particularly it may be worthy to be 
 observed : 
 
 1. How greatly Brainerp’s religion differed from 
 that of some pretenders to the experience of a clear 
 ork of saving conversion wrought on their hearts; 
 who, depending and living on that, settle in a cold, 
 areless, and carnal frame of mind, ee ina neglect of 
 1 thorough, earnest religion, in the stated practice of 
 t. Although his convictions and conversion Were in 
 ul respects exceedingly clear, and very remarkable ; 
 ret how far was he from acting as though he thought 
 ie had got through his work,» when once he had ob- 
 ained comfort, and satisfaction of his interest in Christ 
 aud a title to ihiews en! On the contrary, that work 
 n his heart, by which he was brought to this, was 
 vith him evidently but the bezinning of his work; his 
 tst entering on the great business of religion, and the 
 ervice of God; his first setting out in his race. His 
 york was not finished, nor his race ended, till life was 
 nded. 
 
 _As his conversion was not the end of his work, or 
 the course of his diligence and strivings in religion, 
 D neither was it the end of the work of the Spirit of 
 don his heart. On the contrary, it was the first 
 wning of the light, which thenceforth increased more 
 fad more; the beginning of his holy affections, his 
 ai for sin, his love to God, his rejoicing in Jesus 
 hrist, his longing after holiness. There are many, 
 ho, after the efféct of novelty is over, soon find their 
 tuation and feelings very much the same as before 
 heir supposed conversion, with respect to any pre- 
 nt thirstings for God, or ardent out-goings of their 
 yuls after divine aijents. Now and then, indeed, they 
 
: 7 
 
 346 LIFE OF PRAINERD. [Chap. 3 
 
 have a comfortable reflection on the past, and 
 somewhat affected with the remembrance, and so 
 easy, thinking that it is safe ; and they doubt not 
 they shall go to heaven when they die. Far otherw 
 was it with Bratnerv. His experiences, instead 
 dying away, were evidently of an increasing nat 
 His first love, and other holy affections, even at 
 beginning, were very great; but, after the lapse } 
 mionths and years, became much greater and me 
 remarfkable. { 
 2. His religion apparently and greatly differed fro 
 that of many high pretenders to religion, who are ff 
 quently actuated by vehement emotions of mind, 
 are carried on ina course of sudden and strong U 
 pnessions, and supposed high illuminations and imi 
 diate discoveries ; and at the same time are persons 
 a virulent “ zeal, not according to knowledge.” If ’ 
 look through the whole series of his experience, fre 
 his conversion to his death, we shall find none of tt 
 kind—no imaginary sight of Christ hanging on t 
 cross with his blood streaming from his wounds 3 
 with a countenance smiling on him; or arms open 
 embrace him: no sight of the book of life opened, w 
 his name written in it; no hearing God or Christ spet 
 ing to him; nor any sudden suggestions of words 
 sentences, either of Scripture or any other, as then 
 mediately spoken or sent to him; no new revelati 
 no sudden strong suggestions of secret facts. No 
 I find any one instance in all the records which hel 
 left of his own life, from beginning to end, of joy’ 
 cited from a supposed immediate witness of the Spit 
 or inward immediate suggestion, that his state Y 
 surely good. But the way in which he was satisfied 
 his own good estate, even to the entire abolishing 
 
hap, X.] REFLECTIONS, 347 
 
 ear, was by feeling within himself the lively actings 
 fa holy temper and heavenly disposition, the vigorous 
 xercises of that divine “love which casteth out fear.” 
 3. Bratero’s religion was not selfish and mercena- 
 y; his love to God was primarily and principally for 
 1e supreme excellency of his own nature, and not 
 uilt on a preconceived notion that God loved him, 
 ad received him into favor, and had done great things 
 © him,or promised great things to him. His joy was 
 'y in God, and not in himself. We see by his diary 
 w, from time to time, through the course of his life, 
 is soul was filled with ineffable sweetness and com- 
 wt. The affecting considerations and lively ideas of 
 ol infinite glory, his unchangeable blessedness, his 
 vereignty and universal dominion ; together with the 
 veet exercises of love to God, giving himself up to 
 im, abasing himself before him, denying himself for 
 im, depending upon him, acting for his glory, diligent- 
 ‘serving him; and the pleasing prospects or hopes he 
 ad of the future advancement of the kingdom of Christ, 
 ere the grounds of his strong and abiding consolation. 
 It appears plainly and abundantly all along, from his 
 myersion to his death, that the sort of good which 
 jas the great object of the new relish and appetite 
 ven him in conversion, and thenceforward main- 
 ined and increased in his heart, was HOLINESS, con- 
 tmity to God, living to God, and glorifying him, 
 is was what drew his heart; this was the centre of 
 ssoul; this was the ocean to-which all the streams 
 | his religious affections tended; this was the object 
 ich engaged his eager thirsting desires and earnest 
 rsuits. He knew no true excellency or happiness 
 t this; this was what he longed for most vehemently 
 ad constantly on earth; and this was with him the 
 
Pe 
 348 LIFE OF BRAINERD. (Chap. X 
 
 beauty and blessedness of heaven. This made hims 
 much and so often long for that world of glory. 
 was to be perfectly holy, and perfectly exercised 
 the holy employments of heaven ; and thus “ to glorifi 
 God and enjoy him for ever.” i 
 His religious illuminations, affections, and comfor 
 seemed, to a great degree, to be attended with evan 
 ical humiliation ; consisting in a sense of his ow 
 utter insufficiency, despicableness, and odiousnei 
 with an answerable disposition and frame of hee 
 How deeply affected was he almost continually 1 
 his great defects in religion; with his vast dista 
 from that spirituality and holy frame of mind that 
 eame him; with his ignorance, pride, deadness, unst 
 diness, barrenness! He was not only affected with 
 remembrance of his former sinfulness before his ¢ 
 version, but with the sense of his present vileness ; 
 pollution. He was not only disposed to think mez 
 of himself as before God, and in comparison of hi 
 but among men, and as compared with them. Hey 
 apt to think other saints better than himself; yee 
 look on himself as the meanest and least of sail 
 yea, very often, as the vilest and worst of manki 
 And notwithstanding his great attainments'in spiral 
 knowledge, yet we find there is scarcely any th 
 with a sense of which he is more frequently affeci 
 and abased, than his ignorance. a 
 How eminently did he appear to be of a meek am 
 quiet spirit, resembling the lamb-like, dove-like spit 
 of Jesus Christ! How full of love, meekness, quie 
 ness, forgiveness, and mercy! His love was not merel 
 a fondness and 2 zeal for a party, but an universal ber 
 volences-very often exercised in the most sensible ai 
 ardent love to his greatest oppogers and enemies, 
 
 Was LS 
 
Chap. X.] REFLECTIONS. 849 
 
 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 
 affeeted with present and past sins, and less conscien- 
 tious 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 par- 
 tial in complying with difficult commands, less apt to 
 be alarmed at the appearance of his own defects and 
 transgressions, more easily induced.to a compliance 
 with carnal appetites! On the contrary, how tender 
 ‘was his conscience! how apt was his heart to smite 
 him! how easily and greatly was he alarmed at the 
 appearance of moral evil! how great and constant was 
 his jealousy over his own heart! how strict his care 
 and watchfulness against sin! how deep and sensible 
 were the wounds that sin made in his conscience! 
 Those evils 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 or dullness in re- 
 ligion, any unsteadiness or wandering frame of mind. 
 | How did the consideration of such things as these op- 
 _ and abase him, and fill him with inward shame 
 and confusion! His love and hope, though they were 
 Such as cast out a servile fear of hell, yet were attended 
 with, and abundantly cherished and promoted a reve- 
 [Fential filial fear of God, a dread of sin and of God’s 
 }holy displeasure. His joy seemed truly to be a rejoi- 
 | cing with trembling. His assurance and comfort dif- 
 fered greatly from a false enthusiastic confidence and 
 | joy. in that it promoted and maintained mourning for 
 
 } sin. T£e did not, after he received comfort and full sa- 
 30 Brainerd, 
 
350 LIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap. X. 
 e * 
 
 tisfaction of the safety of his state, forget his past sins, 
 whether committed before or after his conversion; but 
 the remembrance of them, from time to time, revived 
 tu his heart with renewed grief. That passage was” 
 evidently fulfilled in him, “ ‘Phat thou mayest remem~ 
 ber, and be confounded, and never open thy mouth any 
 more, because of thy shame; when I am pacified to- 
 ward thee for all that thou hast done.” Ezek. 16; 63. ~ 
 
 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 litt'e affe = 
 tion in retirement and secret places. Though he was 
 of a very sociable temper, and loved the company ot 
 saints, and delighted very much in religious conversa- 
 tion, and in social worship ; yet his warmest affections, 
 and their greatest effects on his 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 conver 
 sion to his death. He delighted greatly in sacred re 
 tirements; and loved to get quite away from all the 
 world, to converse with God alone,‘in secret duties. — 
 
 Bratnerv’s experiences and comforts were very fe 
 from being like those of some persons, which are ai 
 tended with a spiritual satiety, and which put an end 
 td their religious desires and longings, at least to the 
 edge and ardency of them; resting satisfied in their 
 own attainments and comforts, as having obtained 
 their chief end, which is to extinguish their fears ot 
 hell, and give them confidence of the favor of God. 
 On the contrary, they were always attended with long- 
 ings and thirstings after greater degrees of conformity 
 to God! The greater and sweeter his comforts were, 
 the more vehement were his desires after holiness. 
 
Chap. X.] REFLECTIONS. . 351 
 
 His longings were not so much after joyful discoveries 
 of God’s love, and clear views of his own title to future 
 advancement and eternal honors in heaven; as after 
 more of present holiness, greater spirituality, an heart 
 more engaged for God, to love, and exalt, and depend 
 on him. He earnestly wished to serve God better, to 
 -<do more for his glory, to do all that he did with more 
 
 of a regard to Christ as his righteousness and strength, 
 and to behold the enlargement and advancement of his 
 kingdom on earth. His desires were not idle wishes, 
 : but such as were powerful and effectual, to animate 
 _ him to the earnest, eager pursuit of these things, with 
 the utmost diligence and unfainting labor and self- 
 denial. His comforts never put an end to his seeking 
 after God, and striving to obtain his grace; but, on the 
 contrary, greatly engaged him therein. 
 
 4. His religion did not consist in experience without 
 | practice. All his inward illuminations, affections, and 
 | comforts, seemed to have a direct tendency to practice, 
 and to issue in it: and this, not merely a practice ne 
 | Zatively good, free from gross acts of irreligion and 
 _ immorality ; but a practice positively holy and Chris- 
 tian, 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 zongwie, but in deed ; 
 
 not in being forward in profession and outward show, 
 } and abundant in declaring his own experiences; but 
 ehiefly in being active and abundant in the labors and 
 
352 LIFE OF BRAINERD. LChap. x 
 
 duties of religion; “not slothful in business, but fer- 
 vent in spirit, serving the Lord, and serving his gene- 
 ration, according to the will of God. - 
 
 REFLECTION II. 
 
 The foregoing account of Brainerp’s’life may con- 
 vince us, that there is indeed such a thing as true ez- 
 periniental religion, arising from an immediate divine 
 influence, supernaturally enlightening and convincing 
 the mind, and powerfully impressing, quickecnine sanc- 
 tifying, and governing the heart. 
 
 If any insist that Brawern’s religion was mere en- 
 thusiasm, the result of a heated imagination, I would 
 ask, What were the rruits of his enthusiasm? In him 
 we behold a great degree of honesty and simplicity; 
 sincere and earnest eed and endeavors to know and 
 do whatever is ri t, and to avoid every thing that is 
 wrong; a high degree of love to God; delight in the 
 perfections of his nature, placing the bingy of life 
 in him, not only in contemplating him, but ‘in being 
 active in pleasing and serving him; a firm and undoubt- 
 ing belief in the Messiah, as the Savior of the world, 
 the great Prophet of God, and King of the church, to- 
 gether with great love to him, delight and complacence 
 in the way of salvation by him, and longing for the en- 
 largement of his kingdom; earnest desires that God 
 may be glorified and the Messiah’s kingdom advanced, 
 whatever instruments are employed ; uncommon resig- 
 nation to the will of God, and that under vast trials; 
 and great and universal benevolence to mankind, reach- 
 ing all sorts of persons without distinction, manifestiall 
 in sweetness of speech and behavior, kind treatment, 
 mercy, liberality, and earnestly seeking the good of the 
 
 \ 
 
Zhap. X.] _ REFLECTIONS. 353 
 
 souls and bodies of men. All this we behold attended 
 with extraordinary humility, meekness, forgiveness 
 of injuries, and love to enemies. In him we see a 
 modest, discreet, and decent deportment, among supe- 
 tiors, inferiors, and equals; a most diligent improve- 
 ment 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 endea- 
 vors we see attended with most happy fruits, and 
 _ blessed effects on others, in humanizing, civilizing, and 
 wonderfully reforming and transforming some of the 
 most brutish savages; idle, immora] drunkards, mur- 
 derers, gross idolaters, and wizards; bringing them to 
 _ permanent sobriety, diligence, devotion, honesty, con- 
 _ scientiousness, and charity. The foregoing virtues and 
 successful Jabors all end at last.in a marvellous peace, 
 _ immovable stability, calmness, and resignation, in the 
 sensible approaches of death; with longing for the 
 heavenly state; not only for the honors and circum- 
 _ Stantial Se anieees of it, but above all, for the moral 
 | perfection and holy ca blessed Ganloyinean 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 should 
 | not enthusiasm be thought a desirable and excellent 
 | thing? For what can true religion, what can the best 
 philosophy, do more? 
 
 REFLECTION III. 
 
 The preceding history serves to confirm the doctrines 
 of grace.. For if it be allowed that there is truth, sub- 
 | stance, or value in the main of Brarverp’s religion, it 
 | will undoubtedly follow, that those doctrines are di- 
 B 30* 
 
354 LIFE OF BRAINERD. , 
 
 vine; since it is evident that the whole of it, fro 
 ning to end, accords with them. He was bro! 
 doctrines of this kind, to his awakening and 
 cern about things of a spiritual and eternal nature; by 
 these doctrines his convictions were maintained and 
 carried on; and his conversion was evidently altoge- 
 ther agreeable to them. His conversion was no con- 
 firming and perfecting of moral principles and habits, 
 by use, and practice, and industrious discipline, toge- 
 _ ther 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 labor, or obieined by his 
 virtue; and not accomplished till he was first brought 
 to a full conviction, that all his own virtue, strength, 
 labors and endeavors, could never avail any thing to- 
 ward producing or procuring this effect. 
 
 If ever Bratnerp was truly turned from sin to God 
 at all, or ever became truly religious, none can reason 
 ably fouls: but that his conversion was at the time 
 when he supposed it to be. The change which he then 
 met with, was evidently the greatest moral change 
 that he ever experienced; and he was then apparently 
 first brought to that kind of religion, that remarkable 
 new habit and temper of mind, which he held all his 
 life after. ‘The narration shows it to be different, it 
 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, an¢ 
 bringing it nearer and nearer to such a temper: it was 
 soon after his mind had been remarkably full of blas 
 
Chap: x. REFLECTIONS. 355, 
 
 i) » and a vehement exercise of sensible enmity- 
 
 inst God, and great opposition to those truths which 
 he was now brought with his whole soul to embrace, 
 and rest in as divine and glorious; truths, in the con- 
 templation and improvement of which he 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 main- 
 tained in him, were, most sensibly and certainly, alto- 
 gether different in their nature from all of which he 
 was ever the subject before, or of which he ever had 
 any conception. 
 
 Hence it is very evident that Brainerp’s religion was 
 the effect of the doctrines of grace applied to his heart: 
 and certainly it cannot be denied that the effect was 
 good, unless we turn atheists or deists. I would ask 
 
 ' whether there be any such thing, in reality, as Chris- 
 tian devotion? If there be, what is it? what is its na- 
 ture? and what its just measure? Should it not be in 
 a great degree? We read abundantly in Scripture of 
 “loving God with all the heart, with all the soul, with 
 all the mind, and with all the strength; of delighting 
 in God, of rejoicing in the Lord, rejoicing with joy un- 
 speakable 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 are 
 the Psalms, and other parts of Scripture, of such things 
 as these! Now wherein do these things, as expressed 
 by and appearing in Brarnerp, either the things them- 
 selves, or their effects and fruits, differ from the Scrip- 
 ture representations? To these things he was brought 
 
 > 
 
© ‘ y" 
 2 
 
 356 . MIFE OF BRAINERD. [Chap, 
 
 by that strange and wonderful transformation of the 
 man, which he called Ais conversion. Does not thi 
 well agree with what is so often said in the Old Tes- 
 tament and the New, concerning “ giving a new heart. 
 creating a right spirit, being reriewed in the spirit o 
 the mind, being sanctified throughout, becoming a ne 
 creature 2” § 
 
 REFLECTION IV. 
 
 Is there not much in the preceding memoirs ¢ 
 Brainerp to teach, and excite to duty, us who a 
 called to the work of the ministry, and all who are ca 
 didates for that great work? What a deep sense dic 
 he seem to have of the greatness and importance 6 
 that work, and with what weight did it lie on his mind 
 How sensible was he of his own insufficiency for 
 work; and how great was his dependence on God? 
 sufficiency! How solicitous that he might be fitted fo 
 it! and to this end, how much time did he spend ir 
 prayer and fasting, as well as reading and meditation: 
 giving himself to these things! How did he dedicate 
 his whole life, all his powers and talents to God; z 
 forsake and renounce the world, with all its pleasing 
 and ensnaring enjoyments, that Ke 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, so- 
 lemnity and diligence did he devote himself to God 
 our Savior, and seek his presence and blessing in se~ 
 cret, 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 
 
= 
 . 
 Chap. X.J REFLECTIONS, 357 
 
 way to success in the work of the ministry. He sought 
 it, as a resolute soldier seeks victory in a siege or bat- 
 tle; or as a man who runs a race, secks a great prize. 
 Animated with love to Christ and the souls of men, 
 how did he “ labor always fervently,” not only in word 
 and doctrine, in public and private, but in prayers day 
 and night, “wrestling with God” in secret, and “tra- 
 vailing 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 bless- 
 ing on his ministry, and “ watch for souls, as one that 
 must give account!” How did he “go forth in the 
 strength of the Lord God,” seeking and depending on 
 a special influence of the Spirit to assist and succeed 
 him! What was the happy fruit at last, though after 
 long waiting, and many dark and discouraging appear- ' 
 
 ces? Like a true son of Jacob, he persevered in 
 wrestling, through all the darkness of the night, until 
 the breaking of the day. 
 
 To Missionaries in particular, may his example of 
 laboring, praying, denying himself, and enduring hard- 
 mess with unfainting resolution and patience, and his 
 faithful, vigilant, and prudent conduct in nese other 
 es singin instruction. 
 
 | REFLECTION V. 
 
 | The foregoing account of Bratnerp’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 un- 
 eertainly,” but would honor God m the world, adorn 
 
358 LIFE OF BRAINEKXD. | Chap. X 
 
 their profession, be serviceable to mankind, have f 
 comforts of religion while they live, be free from é 
 quieting doubts and dark apprehensions about th 
 state of their souls, enjoy peace in the approaches 
 death, and “ finish their course with joy.” In genera 
 he much recommended, for this purpose, the rede 
 tion of time, great diligence in the business of 
 Christian life, watchfulness, &c. and he very remari 
 bly bteniplifiel these things. 
 Particularly, his example and success with rega 
 one duty, in an especial manner, may be of great 
 to both ministers and private Christians ; I mean” 
 duty of secret fasting The reader has seen I 
 much Brainerd recommends this duty, and how 1 
 quently he exercised himself in it; nor ean it 
 have escaped observation, how much he was ow 
 and blessed in it, and of what great benefit it evide 
 was to his soul. Among all the many days he sp 
 in secret fasting and prayer, of which he gives an 
 count in his diary, there is scarcely an instance of 6 
 which was not either attended or soon. Nin y 
 
 apparent success, and a cos of Got Sp g, in spe 
 
 influences and consolations of God’s it, -and ver 
 often before the day w. But it’ must be ¢ 
 served, that when he set about this duty, he did iti 
 good earnest; “ stirring up himself to take hold ¢ 
 God,” and “ continuing instant in prayer,” with muc 
 of the spirit of Jacob, who said to the angel, = 
 not let thee go, excep ot thou bless me.” 
 
 af REFLECTION VI. 
 
 There is much in’ the preceding account to exe 
 and encourage God’s people to earnest prayers ar 
 
hap. X.] REFLECTIONS. 359 
 
 ndeavors for the advancement and enlargeinent of the 
 ingdom of Christ in the world. Bratnerp set us an 
 xcellent example in this respect. He sought the pros- 
 erity of Zion with all his might ; and preferred Jeru- 
 ilem above his chief joy. How did his soul long for 
 , and pant after it! how earnestly and often did he 
 rrestle with God for it! and how far did he in these 
 esires and prayers seem to be carried beyond all pri- 
 ate and selfish views! being animated by a pure love 
 ) Christ, an earnest desire of his glory, and a disinte- 
 asted affection to the souls of mankind. 
 
 The consideration of this, not only ought tobe an 
 acitement to the people of God, but may also be a just 
 ncouragement to them, to be much in seeking and 
 raying for a general outpouring of the Spirit of God, 
 nd an extensive revival of religion. I confess, that 
 tod’s giving so. much of a spirit of prayer for this 
 aercy to so eminent a servant of his, and exciting 
 im in so extraordinary a manner, and with such ve- 
 vement thirstings of soul, to-agonize in prayer for it, 
 rom time to time, through the course of his life, is 
 ne thing, among others, which gives me great hope 
 hat God has a design of accomplishing something very 
 lorious for the interest of his church before long. One 
 uch instance as this, I conceive, gives more encou- 
 agement than the common, cold, formal prayers of 
 housands. As Braterp’s desires and prayers for the 
 soming of Christ’s kingdom were very special and ex- 
 raordinary ; 80 1 think we may reasonably hope, that 
 he God who excited those desires and prayers, will 
 inswer them with something special and extraordi- 
 vary. And ina particular manner do I think it wor- 
 hy of notice for our encouragement, that he had his 
 qeart unusually drawn out in longings and prayers for 
 
. 
 
 bosom of his feaechnen in prayers an 
 the glorious event; expiring in very 
 
 it would soon begin to be ome th 
 
 Bee ious dispensation of aca 
 family, in so ordering that he, cee the ordi ng 
 place of his abode was more than two hundred 1 
 distant, should be brought to my house in his last 
 ness, and should die here. Thus we had opportu 
 for much acquaintance and conversation with him 
 show him kindness in such circumstances, to see 
 .. dying behavior, to hear his dying speeches, to rece 
 -.» his dying counsels, and to have the benefit of his dyi 
 prayers. May God in infinite mercy “grant, that 
 may ever retain a proper remembrance of these thi 
 and make a due improvement of the advantages | 
 have had in these respects! The Lord grant also, tl 
 the foregoing account of Brainern’s life and death m 
 be for the great spiritual benefit of all who shall read 
 ~*. and prove a happy means of promoting the revive 
 ‘true religion! Amen. ‘ 
 
 ~ 
 
 i 
 
 ) 
 
 Perpotnated by the Donations of mabe. George Douglass, Charles Sta 
 and William A. Hallock, a sca 
 al 
 
 4 
 
TFTREATISB 
 
 KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 SELECTED FROM THE WORKS 9F 
 
 : THE REV. JOHN FLAVEL. 
 
 The atyle adapted to the present state of improvemert 
 
 PUBLISHED BY THE 
 
 AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY 
 NO. 130 NASSAU-STREET, NEW-YORK. 
 —— 
 
 ! D. Fanshaw, Printer. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 The text explained, - . = - . = c 5 
 Duties included in keeping the heart, - : 10 
 Reasons whiy this should be the great business of life, 12 
 
 PARTICULAR SEASONS, 
 
 1. The time of prosperity, - - ‘- + + 2 
 2. The time of adversity, - + - -— = 31 
 3. The time of Zion’s troubles, ert emt n tal - 38 
 4. The time of danger and public distraction, - 45 
 5. The time of outward wants, - - « 55 
 6. The season of duty, - - “ = = 65 
 7. When we receive injuries and abuses from men, 72 
 8. When we meet with great trials, - - 7 
 ¥. The hour oftemptation, - - - - - 8 
 10. The time of doubting and spiritual darkness, - 83 
 11. When sufferings for religion are laid upon us, - 91 
 1. When sickness warns that death is near, - : 94 
 IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 To hypocrites and formal professors, - - - 98 
 Toa the peopleofGod, - - - - = - 99 
 
 Two things which consume the time and strength of 
 professors, - = gh < ee ei 99 
 
 Exhortation to hearty engagedness in keeping the heart, 102 
 
 Ten motives by way of inducement, - - - - 102 
 
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on 
 
 KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 ‘KEEP TAY HEART WITH ALL DILIGENCE, FOR OUT OF IT 
 ARE THE ISSUES OF LIFE.—Proverbs, 4; 23. 
 
 Tue heart of man is his worst part before it be regene- 
 rated, and the best afterward ; it isthe seat of principles, 
 and the fountain of actions. Theeye of God is, and the 
 eye of the Christian ought to be, principally fixed upon it. 
 
 The greatest difficulty in conversion, is to win the 
 heart to God; and the greatest difficulty after conversion, 
 isto keep the heart with God. Here lies the very force 
 and stress of religion; here is that which makes the 
 way to life a narrow way, and the gate of heaven a 
 strait gate. Direction and help in this great work are 
 the scope of the text: wherein we have, 
 
 I. An exhortation, “Keep thy heart with all dili- 
 gence.” 
 
 _ IL The reason or motive enforcing it, “For out of it 
 are the issues of life.” 
 
 | In the exhortation I shall consider, 
 
 First, The matter of the duty. 
 
 | Secondly, The manner of performing it. 
 
 | 1. The matter of the duty: Keep thy heurt. Heart 
 § not here taken properly for the noble part of the body, 
 which philosophers call “the first that lives and the last 
 hat dies;” but by heart, in a metaphor, the Scripture 
 jometimes represents some particular noble faculty of the 
 oul. InRom.1: 21, itis put for the understanding ; 
 
 | 
 
6 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 their foolish heart, that is, their foolish understanding 
 was darkened. Psalm 119: 11, it is put for the memo 
 ry; “Thy word have I hid in my heart ;” and 1 John 
 3: 10, it is put for the conscience, which has in it both 
 the light of the understanding and the recognitions of 
 the memory; if our heart condemn us, that is, if our 
 conscience, whose proper office it is to condemn. 
 
 Butin the text we are to take it more generally, for the 
 whole soul, or inner man. What the heart is to the body, 
 that the soul is to the man; and what health is to the 
 heart, that holiness is to the soul. The state of the 
 whole body depends upon the soundness and vigor of 
 the heart, and the everlasting state of the whole man 
 upon the good or ill condition of the soul. ° 7 
 
 By keeping the heart, understand the diligent and 
 constant* use of all holy means to preserve the soul from 
 sin, and maintain its sweet and free communion with 
 God. Lavater on the text will have the word taken 
 from a besieged garrison, beset by many enemies ae 
 out, and in danger of being betrayed by treache Q 
 citizens within, in which danger the soldiers, upon pain 
 of death, are commanded to watch 5 and though the ex- 
 pression, Keep thy heart, seems to put it upon us as Our 
 work, yet it does not imply a sufficiency in us to 
 We are as able to stop the sun in its course, or to m: 
 the rivers run backward, as by our own skill and p 
 to rule and order our hearts. We may as well be out 
 own saviors as our own keepers; and yet Solomon 
 speaks properly enough when he says, Keep thy heart, 
 because the duty is ours, thought the power is of God; 
 what power we have depends upon the exciting and as- 
 
 *Isay constant, for the reason added in the text extends the 
 duty to all the states and conditions of a Christian's life, and 
 makes it binding always. If the heart must be kept, beca' 
 out of it are the issues of life, then as long as these issues of 
 do Sow out of it, we are obliged to keepit. 3 
 
7s my 
 r : 
 ON KEEPING THE HEART- 7 
 
 sting strength of Christ. Grace within us is beholden 
 » grace without us. * Without me ye can do nothing.” 
 \o mueh for the matter of the duty. 
 
 2. The manner of performing it is with all diligence. 
 ‘he Hebrew is very emphatical ; keep with all keeping, 
 c, keep, keep ; set double guards. This vehemency of 
 
 ion with which the duty is urged, plainly im- 
 lies how difficult it is to keep our hearts, how dange- 
 jus to neglect them ! 
 The motive to this duty is very forcible and weighty : 
 For out of the heart are the issues of life.” That is, 
 1e heart is the source of all vital operations; it is the 
 wing and original of both good and evil, as the spring 
 1a wacch that sets all the wieels in motion. The heart 
 , the treasury, the hand and tongue but the shops; 
 yhat is in these, comes from that; the hand and tongue 
 lways begin where the heart ends. The heart contrives, 
 nd the members execute: “a good man, out of the good 
 seasure of his heart, bringeth forth that which is good ; 
 ind an evil man, out of the evil treasure of his heart, 
 gingeth forth that which is evil: for of the abundance 
 f the heart his mouth speaketh.” So then, if the heart 
 ir imits work, these must miscarry in theirs ; for heart 
 “rors are like the errors of the first concoction, which 
 i be rectified afterward; or like the misplacing and 
 Pies of the stamps and letters in the press, which 
 nust cause so many errata in all the copies that are 
 minted. O then how important a duty is that which 
 Seontained in the following 
 
 | Puorosrrion.— The keeping and right managing of 
 he heart in every condition, is one great business of a 
 Christian’s life. 
 
 | Whe the philosopher says of waters, is as properly 
 ipplicable to hearts ; it is hard to keep them withm any 
 younds. God has set limits to them, yet how frequently 
 
8 ON KEEPING THE MEART. 
 
 do they transgress not only the bounds of grace andt 
 gion, but even of reason and common honesty? This 
 that which affords the Christian matter of labor 
 watchfulness, to his dying day. It is not the cleaning 
 the hand that makes the Christian, for many a hy 
 crite can show as fair a hand as he; but the purifyin, 
 watching, and right ordering of the heart; this is t} 
 thing that provokes so many sad complaints, and costs: 
 many deep groans and tears. It was the pride of Hez 
 kiah’s heart that made him lie in the dust, mournin 
 before the Lord. It was the fear of hypocrisy’s invadin 
 the heart that made David cry, “Let my heart be sour 
 in thy statutes, that I be not ashamed.” It was the sa 
 experience he had of the divisions and distractions of h 
 own heart in the service of God, that made him pour ot 
 the prayer, “Unite my heart to fear thy name.” 
 
 The method in which I propose to improve the propi 
 sition is this: 
 
 First, I shall inquire what the keeping of the hea 
 supposes and imports. 
 
 Secondly, Assign divers reasons why Christians mui 
 make this a leading business of their lives. 
 
 Thirdly, Point out those seasons which especially ca 
 for this diligence in keeping the heart. 
 
 Fourthly, Apply the whole. 
 
 First, 1 am to consider what the keeping of the heai 
 supposes and imports. 
 
 To keep the heart, necessarily supposes a previous wor 
 of regeneration, which has set the heart right, by givi 
 it a new epiritudl inclination, for as long as the heart 
 not set right by grace as toits habituai frame, no mean 
 can keep it right with God. Self is the poise of the u 
 renewed heart, which biasses and moves it in all its 
 signs and actions; and as long as it is so, it is impossib! 
 that any external means should keep it with God. _ 
 
ON KEEPING THE IEART. 9 
 
 ally, was of one constant, uniform frame 
 eld one straight and even course; not one 
 igh faculty was disordered: his mind had a 
 feet knowledge of the requirements of God, his will 
 erfect compliance therewith; all his appetites and 
 wers stood in a most Gietlient subordination. 
 Man, by the apostacy, is become a most discrdered 
 ad rebellious creature, opposing his Maker, as the First 
 Vause, by self-dependence ; as the Chief Good, by self- 
 pve; as the Highest Lord, by self-will; and as the Last 
 \ * by self-seeking. Thus he is quite disordered, and 
 his actions are irregular. But by regeneration the dis- 
 rdered soul is set right ; this great change being, as the 
 
 ic ace expresses it, the renovation of the soul after 
 
 jellious appetite gradually conquered. Thus the soul 
 hich sin had universally depraved, is by grace restor- 
 This being pre-supposed, it will not be difficult to 
 ipprehend what it is to keen the heart, which is nothing 
 
 as raised it. For though grace has, in a great measure, 
 Petified the soul, and given it an habitual heavenly tem- 
 3 yet sin often actually discomposes it again ; so that 
 en a gracious heart is likea musical instrument, which 
 nough it be exactly tuned, a small matter brings it out 
 f tane again; yea, hang it aside but a little, and it will 
 eed setting again before another lesson can be played 
 pon it. If gracious hearts are in a desirable frame 
 One duty, yet how dull, dead, and disordered when 
 ey come to another! Therefore every duty needs 
 
10 UN KEEPING THE BEART. % 
 a particular preparation of the heart. “If thou pr 
 thine heart and stretch out thine hands toward hi 
 &c. To keep the heart then, is carefully to prese 
 from sin, which disorders it; and maintain that spiri 
 frame which fits it for a life of communion with 
 
 This includes in it six particulars. 
 
 1. Frequent observation of the frame of the hear 
 Carnal and formal persons take no heed to this; t 
 cannot be brought toconter with theirown hearts: ther 
 are some people who have lived forty or fifty years i 
 the world, and have had scarcely one hour’s discout 
 with hein own hearts. It is a hard thing to brin 
 man and himself together on such business; but sail 
 know those soliloguies to be very salutary. The 
 then could say, “the soui is made wise by sitting 
 in quietness.” ‘Though bankrupts care not to look 
 to their accounts, yet upright hearts will know whe 
 they go backward or forward. “I commune will 
 mine own heart,” says David. The heart can ne 
 be kept until its case be examined and understood. 
 
 2. lt includes deep humiliation for heart evils and 
 orders; thus Hezekiah humbled himself for the pri 
 of his heart. Thus the people were ordered to sp 
 forth their hands to God in prayer, realizing the pla 
 of their own hearts. Upon this account many an up 
 right heart has been laid low before God; ‘ O what 
 heart have I? Saints have in their confession pointer 
 at the heart, the pained place: ‘ Lord, here is the war 
 It is with the heart well kept, as it is with the eye; 
 a small dust get into the eye it will never cease twi 
 ling and watering till it has wept it out: so the upri 
 heart cannot be at rest till it has wept out its trou 
 
 and poured cut its complaints before the Lord. 
 * 3. Itincludes earnest supplication and ino 
 for purifying and rectifying grace when sin has de 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. 11 
 
 ind flisordered the heart. “ Cleanse thou me from secret 
 aults.* “ Unite my heart to fear thy name.” Saints 
 ave always many such petitions before the throne of 
 God's grace; this is the thing which is most pleaded by 
 hem with God. When they are praying for outward 
 nercies, perhaps their spits may be more remiss ; but 
 when it comes to tne heart’s case, they extend their spi- 
 ‘itso the utmost, fill their mouths with arguments, weep 
 ind make supplication: ‘O 1or a better heart! O for a 
 leart to love God more; to hate sin more; to walk more 
 venly with God. Lord! deny not to me such a heart, 
 vhatever thou deny me: give me a heart to fear thee, 
 0 love and delight in thee, if I beg my bread in desolate 
 laces.’ It is observed of an eminent saint, that when he 
 vas confessing sin, he would never give over confessing 
 intil he had felt some brokenness of heart for that sin ; 
 ind when praying for any spiritual mercy, would never 
 sive over that suit till he had obtained some relish of that 
 nercy. 
 
 4. It includes the imposing of strong engagements 
 jpon ourselves to walk more carefully with God, and 
 woid the oceasions whereby the heart may be induced 
 a sin. Well advised and deliberate vows are, in some 
 ases, very useful to guard the heart against some spe- 
 jal sin. “Ihave made a covenant with mine eyes,” 
 ays Job. By this means holy men have overawed 
 heir souls, and preserved themselves from defilement. 
 6. It includes a constant and holy jealousy over our 
 wn hearts. Quicksighted self-jealousy is an excellent 
 reservative from sin. He that will keep his heart, must 
 ave the eyes of the soul awake and open upon all the 
 isorderly and tumultuous stirrings of his affections; if 
 ne affections break loose, and the passions be stirred, the 
 jul must discover it, and suppress them before they get 
 aheight. ‘O my soul, dost thou well in this? my 
 
 | 
 
12 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 tumuttuous thoughts and passions, where is’ ycur, 
 mission? Happy is the man that chus feareta al 
 By this fear of the Lord it is that men depart from 
 shake off sloth, and preserve themselves from iniqui 
 He that will keep his heart musteat and drink with fee 
 rejoice with fear, and pass the whole time of his — 
 ing here in fear, All this is little enough tokeep the h 
 
 from sin, ‘ 
 
 6. It includes the realizing of God’s presence with 7 
 and setting the Lord always before us. This the peop 
 have found a powerful means of keeping their hearts d 
 
 right, and awing them from sin.. When the eye of 
 faith is fixed upon the eye of God's omniscience, we dat 
 not let out our thoughts and affections to vanity. Hol 
 Job durst not suffer his heart to yield to an impure, v 
 thought, and’ what, was it that moved him to so gre 
 biretnspecnentl He tells us, “ Doth not He see m 
 ways, and count all my steps ?” r 
 
 In such particulars as these do gracious souls expre 
 the care they have of their hearts, They are. careful | 
 prevent the breaking loose of the corruptions i in time; 
 temptation ; careful to preserve the sweetness and con 
 fort they have got from God in any duty. This is th 
 work, and of all works in. religion it is the most diffieu 
 constant, and important work, 
 
 1. It is the hardest work. Heart-work is hard wai 
 indeed. To shuffle over religious duties with a loose ar 
 heedless spirit, will cost no great pains ; but to set thyse 
 before the Lord, and tie up thy loose and vain thoughts’ 
 a constant and serious attendance upon him; this wi 
 cost thee something. To attain a facility and dexterit 
 of language in prayer, and put thy meaning into apt ar 
 decent expressions, is easy; but to get thy heart broke 
 for sin, while thou art confessing it; melted with fie 
 grace while thou art blessing God for it; to be reall 
 
ON KEEPING THE DFART. 13 
 
 ashamed and humbled through the apprehensions of 
 - God’s infinite holiness, and to keep thy heart in this frame, 
 
 not only in, but after duty, will surely cost thee some 
 
 _ groans and pains of soul. To repress the outward acts 
 
 of sin, and compose ‘the external part of thy lifeina 
 
 laudable manner, is no great matter; even carnal per- 
 sons, by the force of common aration can do this: but 
 _ to kill the root of corruption within, to set and keep up an 
 holy government over thy thoughts, to have all things 
 lie straight and orderly in the heart, this is not easy. 
 
 2. Itis a constant work. The keeping of the heart isa 
 work that is never done till life is ended. There is no 
 _time or condition in the life of a Christian which will 
 
 suffer an intermission of this work. It isin keeping watch 
 _over our hearts, as it was in keeping up Moses’ hands 
 _ while Israel and Amalek were fighting. -No sooner do 
 
 the hands of Moses grow heavy and sink down, than 
 ' Amalek prevails. Intermitting the watch over their own 
 _ hearts for but a few minutes, cost David and Peter many 
 asad day and night. 
 ' 3. Itis the most important business of a Christian’s 
 life. Without this we are but formalists in religion: all 
 our professions, gifts and duties signify nothing. “ My 
 son, give me thine heart,” is God’s request. God is 
 pleased to call that a gift which is indeed a debt; he 
 will put this honor upon the creature, to receive it from 
 him in the way of a gift; but if this be not given him, he 
 regards not whatever else you bring to him, There is 
 only so much of worth in what we do, as there is of heart 
 init. Concerning the heart, God seems to say, as Joseph 
 of Benjamin, “If you bring not Benjamin with you, you 
 shall not see my face.” Among the Heathen, when the 
 beast was cut up for sacrifice, the first thing the priest 
 looked upon was the heart ; and if that was unsound and 
 
 worthless the sacrifice was rejected. God rejects at! dy- 
 2 K, the Heart. 
 
 ; 
 
14 ON KEEPING THE HEART. ; 
 
 ties (how glorious soever in other respects) which are 
 fered him without the heart. He that performsduty wi 
 out the heart, that is, heedlessly, is no more accepted with 
 God than fie that performs it with a double heart, thai 
 is, hypocritically. 
 
 Thus I have briefly considered what the keeping of the 
 heart supposes and imports. I proceed, - 
 
 Secondly, To assign divers reasons why Christian: 
 must make this the great business of their live ; 
 
 The impertance and necessity of fieking eee his our great 
 business will manifestly appear from several considera: 
 tions. 
 
 1. The glory of Gad is much concerned. Heart-evil 
 are very provoking evils to the Lord. ‘The Schools cor 
 rectly observe, that outward sins are “sins of great infa 
 my ;” but that the heart sins are “sins of deeper guilt? 
 How severely has the great God declared his wrath from 
 heaven against heart-wickedness ! The crime for whiel 
 the old world stands indicted is heart-wickedness! “ Got 
 saw that every imagination of their hearts was only evil 
 and that continually; for which hesent the most dread{u 
 judgments that were ever inflicted since time began 
 We find not their murders, adulteries, blasphemie: 
 (though they were defiled with these) particularly alleg 
 ed against them; but the evils of their hearts. That by 
 which God was so provoked as to give up his peculia 
 inheritance into the enemy’s hand, was the evil of thei 
 hearts. “ O Jerusalem, wash thine heart from wicked 
 ness, that thou mayest be saved ; how long shall thy vai 
 thoughts lodge within thee ?” 
 
 or the wickedness and vanity of their thoughts Goi 
 took particular notice; and because of this the Chal 
 deans must come upon them, “asa lion from his thickei 
 and tear them to pieces.” Fr the sin of thoughts it wa 
 that God threw down the fallen angels from heaven, an 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. 15 
 
 still keeps them in “ everlasting chains” to the judg- 
 ment of the great day; by which expression is not 
 obscurely intimated some extraordinary judgment to 
 which they are reserved; as prisoners that have most 
 irons laid upon them may be supposed to be the greatest 
 malelactors. And what was their sin? Spiritual wick- 
 edness. Merely heart-evils are so provoking to God, that 
 for them he rejects with indignation all the duties that 
 some men perform. “ He that killeth an ox is as if he 
 slew a man; he that sacrifices a lamb, as if he cut off a 
 dog’s neck ; he that offereth an oblation, as if he offered 
 swine’s blood; he that burneth incense, as if he blessed 
 an idol.” In what words could the abhorrence of a crea- 
 ture’s actions be more fully expressed by the holy God ? 
 Murder and idolatry are not more vile in his account, 
 than their sacrifices, though moterially such as himself 
 appointed. And what made their sacrifices so vile? The 
 following words inform us: “ Their soul delighteth in 
 their abominations.” 
 
 _ Such is the vileness of mere heart-sins, that the Serip- 
 ‘tures sometimes intimate the difficulty of pardon for them. 
 The heart of Simon Magus was not right, he had base 
 thoughts of God, and of. the things of God: the apostle 
 bade. him “repent and pray, if perhaps the thoughts of 
 his heart might be forgiven him.” O then never slight 
 heart evils! for by these God is highly wronged. and 
 provoked. For this reason let every Christian keep his 
 heart with all diligence. 
 _ 2. The sincerity of our profession much depends upon 
 |the care we exercise in keeping our hearts. Most cer- 
 ‘tainly, that man who is careless of the frame of his 
 heart, is but a hypocrite in his profession, however emi- 
 ‘ment he be in the externals of religion. We have a 
 (striking instance of this in the history of Jehu. “ But 
 /Jehu took no heed to walk in the ways of the Lord God 
 
16 ON KEEPING THE HEART. ¥ 
 
 of Israei with his heart.” THe context gives an —_ 
 of the great service performed by Jehu against the ho 
 
 of Ahab and Baal, and also of the great temporal re- 
 ward given him by God for that service, even that 
 his children, to the fourth generation, should sit upon 
 the throne of Israel. Yet in these words Jehu is cen- 
 sured as a hypocrite: though God approved and re 
 warded the work, yet he abhorred and rejected the per- 
 son that did it, as hypocritical. Wherein lay the hypo- 
 crisy of Jehu ? 2 Inthis; he took no heed to walk in the 
 ways of the Lord with his heart ; that is, he did all in- 
 sincerely and for selfish ends: aiid though the work he 
 did was materially good, yet he, not purging his heart 
 from those unworthy selfish designs in doing it, was@ 
 hypocrite. And though Simon Magus appeared such & 
 person that the apostle could not regularly reject him, 
 ‘yet his hypocrisy was quickly discovered. Though he 
 professed piety and asscciated himself with the saints, 
 he was astranger to the mortification of heart-sins. “ Thy 
 heart is not right with God.” It is true, there is great 
 jifference between Christians themselves in their dili- 
 gence and dexterity about heart work; some are more 
 conversant with, and more successful in it than others: 
 but he that takes no heed to his heart, that is not careful 
 to order it aright before God, is but a hypoerite. “ And 
 they come unto thee as the ‘people cometh, and they sit 
 before thee as my people, and they hear thy words, but 
 they will not do them: for with their mouth they chow 
 much love, but their heart goethafter their covetousness.” 
 Here was a company of formal hypocrites, as is evident 
 from that expression, as my people ; like them, but not 
 of them. And what madethemso? Their outside was 
 fair; heré were reverent postures, high professions, much 
 seeming delight in ordinances; é thou art to them asa 
 lovely song : 2” yea, but for all that they — not their 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. 17 
 
 hearts with God in those duties; their hearts were com- 
 manded by their iusts, they went after their covetousness. 
 Had they kept their hearts with God, all had been well: 
 but not regarding which way their hearts went in duty, 
 there lay the essence of their hypocrisy. 
 
 If any upright soul should hence infer, ‘I am a hypo- 
 crite too, for many times my heart departs from God in 
 duty ; do what I can, yet I cannot hold it close with 
 God; I answer, the very objection carries in it its own 
 solution. Thou sayest, ‘Do what I can, yet I eannot keep 
 my heart with God.’ Soul, ifthoudoest what thou canst, 
 thou hast the blessing of an upright, though God sees 
 good to exercise thee under the affliction of a discom- 
 posed heart. 
 
 _ There still remains some wildness in the thoughts and 
 fancies of the best to humble them; but if you find a 
 eare before to prevent them, and opposition against them 
 when they come, and grief and sorrow afterward, you 
 find enough to clear you from the charge ‘of reigning 
 hypocrisy. This precaution is seen partly i in laying up 
 the word in thy heart to prevent them. “ Thy word 
 have I hid in mine heart, that I might not sin against 
 thee. » Partly in your endeavors to engage your heart 
 to God; and partly in begging precendiits grace from 
 God in your commencement of duty. It is a good sign 
 fo exercise such precaution. And it is an evidence of 
 uprightness, to oppose these sins in their first rise. “I 
 hate vain thoughts.” “The spirit lusteth against the 
 flesh.” Thy grief also discovers the uprightness of thy 
 heart. If with Hezekiah thou art humbled for the evils 
 of thy heart, thou hast no reason, from those disorders, 
 to question the integrity of it; but to suffer sin to lodge 
 quietly in the heart, to let thy heart habitually and un- 
 leontrolledly wander from God, is a sad, a dangerous 
 
 symptom indeed. & 
 
18 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 3. The beauty of our conversation arises from the 
 heavenly frame of our spirits, There is a spiritual tose 
 tre and beauty in the conversation of saints. “ The 
 righteous is more excellent than his neighbor ;” saints 
 shine as the lights of the world ; but whatever lustre and 
 beauty is in their lives, comes from the excellency of their 
 spirits; asthe candle within puts lustre upon the lantern 
 in which it shines. It is impossible that a disordered and 
 neglected heart should ever produce well ordered con- 
 versation; and since (as the text observes) the issues or 
 streams of life flow out of the heart as their fountain, it 
 must follow, that such as the heart is, the life will be. 
 Hence 1 Peter,2: 12, “Abstain from fleshly lusts—having 
 your conversation honest,” or beautiful, as the Gre 
 word imports. So Isaiah, 55: 7. “Let the wicked forsake 
 his way, and the unrighteous mam his thoughts.” Ji 
 way, denotes the course of his life; his thoughts, the 
 frame of his heart: and therefore since the course of his 
 life flows from his thoughts, or the frame of his heart, 
 both, or neither will be forsaken. ae the source 
 of all actions; these actions are virtually and radically 
 cofitained in our thoughts; these thoughts being once 
 made up into affections, are quickly made out into suita- 
 ble actions. If the heart be wicked, then, as Christ says, 
 “Out of the heart proceed evil thoughts, murders,” &e. 
 Mark the order: first, wanton or revengeful thoughts; 
 then unclean, or murderous practices. And if the heart 
 be holy, then it is as with David “My heart is inditing 
 a good matter—I speak of the things which I have made, 
 my tongue is as the penof a ready writer.” Here is a 
 lite richly beautified with good works, some ready made— 
 Twill speak of the things which I have made ; others 
 making—my heart is inditing ; both proceed from the 
 heavenly frame of his heart. Put the heart in frame, 
 and the life will quickly discover that itis so. It is not 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. 19 
 
 very difficult to discern, by the performances and converse 
 of Christians, what frames their spirits are in. Take a 
 Christian in a good frame, and how serious, heavenly 
 and profitable will his conversation and religious exer- 
 cises be! what a lovely companion is he during the 
 continuance of it! it would do any one’s heart good | to be 
 withhim at sucha time. ‘‘ The mouth of the righteous 
 speaketh wisdom, and his tongue talketh of judgment ; 
 the law of his God is in his heart.’ When the heart is 
 up with God, and full of God, how dexterously will he 
 insinuate spiritual discourse, improving every occasion 
 and advantage to some heavenly purpose! Hew words 
 then run to waste. And what can be the reason that the 
 discourses and duties of many Christians are become so 
 frothy and unprofitable, their communion both with God 
 and with one another becomes as a dry stalk, but this, 
 thir hearts are neglected? Surely this must be the 
 reason of it, and it is an evil greatly to be bewailed. 
 Thus the attracting beauty that was wont to shine, from 
 the conversation of the saints, upon the faces and con- 
 ‘sciences ol the world, (which, if it did not aliure and 
 bring them in love with the ways of God, at least left a 
 testimony in their consciences of the excellency of those 
 men and of their ways,) is in a great measure lost, to the 
 unspeakable detriment of religion. Time was, when 
 Christians conducted in such a manner that the world 
 stood gazing at them. Their life and language were 
 of a different strain from those of others, their tongues 
 discovered them to be Galileans wherever they came. 
 But now, since vain speculations and fruitless controver- 
 sies have so much obtained, and heart-work, practical 
 | godliness, is so much neglected among professors, the 
 case is sadly altered : their discourse is become like other 
 | men’s; if they come among you now, they may “hear 
 every man speak in his own language.” Ard I have 
 I 
 
 | 
 
20 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 little hope to see this evil redressed, and. the credit 
 religion repaired, till Christians do their first works, 
 they apply again to heart-work: when the salt 
 heavenly-mindedness is cast into the spring, the stream 
 will run more clear and more sweet. 
 
 4, The comfort of our souls much depends upon 
 keeping of our hearts; for he that is negligent in at 
 tending to his own heart, is, ordinarily, a great stran 
 to assurance, and the comforts following from it. Indeed 
 if the Antinomian doctrine were true, which teaches yo 
 to reject all marks and signs for the trial of your condi 
 tion, telling you that it is the Spirit that immediately as 
 sures you, by witnessing your adoption directly, witho 
 them ; then you might be careless of your hearts, yea, 
 strangers to them, and yet no strangers to comfort: bu’ 
 since both Scripture and experience confute this, I hope 
 you will never look for comfort in this unscriptural way. 
 I deny not that it is the work and office of the Spirit to 
 assure you; yet I confidently affirm, that if ever you at- 
 tain assurance in the ordinary way wherein God dis- 
 penses it, you must take pains with your own hearts, 
 You may expect your comforts upon easier terms, but 1 
 am mistaken if ever you enjoy them upon any other? 
 give all diligence ; prove yourselves ; this is the cing 
 tural method. A distinguished writer, in his treatise o' 
 the covenant, tells us that he knew a Christian who, in 
 the infancy of his Christianity, so vehemently panted af= 
 ter the infallible assurance of God’s love, that for a long 
 time together he earnestly desired some voice from hea= 
 ven; yea, sometimes walking in the solitary fields, ear- 
 nestly desired some miraculous voice from the trees and 
 stones there: this, after many desires and longings, was 
 Jenied ; but in time a better was afforded in the ordi- 
 nary way of searching the word and his own heart. An 
 instance of the like nature another learned person gives’ 
 
 OC) 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. P| 
 
 is of one that was driven by temptation upon the very 
 orders of despair; at last, being sweetly settled and as- 
 ured, one asked him how he attained it; he answered, 
 ‘Not by any extraordinary revelation, but by subjecting 
 ny understanding to the Scriptures, and comparing my 
 leart with them.” The Spirit, indeed, assures by wit- 
 essing our adoption; and he witnesses in two ways. 
 Ine way is, objectively, that is, by producing those gra- 
 es in our souls which are the conditions of the promise; 
 ind so the Spirit, and his graces in us, are all one: the 
 Spirit of God dwelling in us, is a mark of our adoption. 
 Now the Spirit can be discerned, not in his essence, but 
 n his operations; and to discern these, is to discern the 
 Spirit ; and how these can be discerned without serious 
 earching and diligent watching of the heart. I cannot 
 magine. The other way of the Spirit’s witnessing is 
 ffectively, that is, by irradiating the soul with a grace 
 liscovering light, shining upon his own work ; ; and this, 
 n order of nature, follows the former work: he first in- 
 uses the grace, and then opens the eye of the soul to 
 eeit. Now, since the heart is the subject of that infus- 
 d grace, even this way of the Spirit’s witnessing in- 
 Tudes the necessity of carefully keeping our own hearts. 
 ‘or, 
 
 1. A neglected heart isso confused and dark, that the 
 ttle grace which is in it is not ordinarily discernible: 
 e most accurate and laborious Christians sometimes 
 fid it difficult to discover the pure and genuine work- 
 ngs of the Spirit in their hearts. How then shall the 
 hristian who is comparatively negligent about heart- 
 ork, be ever able to discover grace? Sincerity ! which 
 p the thing sought, lies in the heart like a small piece of 
 old on the bottom of a river; he that would find it 
 ust stay till the water is clear, and then he will see it 
 parkling at the bottom. That the heart may be clear 
 
22 ©N KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 and settled, how much pains and watching, care ar 
 diligence, are requisite! 
 
 2. God does not usually indulge negligent souls 
 the comforts of assurance; he will not so much as seem 
 to patronize sloth and carelessness. He will give assar 
 ance, but it shall be in his own way ; his command hath 
 united our care and comfort together. Those are mistake i 
 
 bor. Ah! hag ae. solitary hours have the people of 
 God spent in heart-examination! how many times haye 
 they looked intothe word, and then into their hearts! 
 Sometimes they thought they discovered sincerity, ar 
 were even ready to draw forth the triumphant conclu 
 sion of assurance; then comes a doubt they c 
 resolve, and destroys it all: many hopes and fea 
 doubtings and reasonings, they have had in their ow 
 breasts before they arrived at a comfortable settlement. 
 But suppose it possible for a careless Christian to attain 
 assurance, yet it is impossible for him jong to retain i 
 {or it is a thousand to one if those whose hearts are filled 
 with the joys of assurance, long retain those joys, unless 
 extraordinary care be used. A little pride, vanity, or 
 carelessness wil] dash to pieces all that for which the 
 have been a long time laboring in many a weary dut 
 Since then the joy of our life, the comfort of our souls, 
 rises and falls with our diligence in this work, keep your 
 ng with all diligence. 
 
 . 'The improvement of our graces depends on 
 .. of our hearts. I never knew grace to thrive 
 a careless soul. The habits and roots of grace at 
 planted in the heart; and the deeper they are roote 
 there, the more fourishing erace is. In Eph. 3: 17, we 
 read of being “ rooted” in grace ; grace in the head | 
 the rcot of every gracious sword in the mouth, and 
 every holy work in the hand, It is true,. Christ is 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. ; 23 
 
 root of a Christian, but Christ is the originating root, and 
 Grace a root originated, planted, and influenced by 
 Christ ; accordingly, as this thrives under divine influ- 
 ences, the acts of grace are more or less fruitful or vigo- 
 rous. Now, in a heart not kept with care and diligence, 
 these fructif ying influences are stopt and cut off—multi- 
 tudes of vanities break in upon it, and devour its stren eth; 
 the heart is, as it were, the inelecure, in which multi- 
 tudes of thoughts are fed every day; a gracious heart, 
 diligently kept, feeds many precious thoughts of God in 
 a day. “ How precious are thy thoughts unto me, O 
 God! how great is the sum of them! If I should count 
 them, they are more in number than the sand: when I 
 awake, Iam still with thee.” And as whe gracious heart 
 nourishes them, so they refresh and feast the heart. My 
 
 soul is filled as with marrow and fatness while I think 
 pon thee,” &c. But in the disregarded heart, multi- 
 des of vain and foolish thoughts are perpetually work- 
 ng; and drive out those spiritual thoughts of God by 
 which the soul should be refreshed. Besides, the careless 
 aeart profits nothing by any duty or ordinance it performs 
 r attends upon, and yet these are the conduits of heaven, 
 whence grace is watered and made fruitful. A man 
 nay go with a heedless spirit from ordinance to ordi- 
 aance, abide all his days under the choicest teaching, 
 and yet never be improved by them; for heart-neglect 
 ls a leak in the bottom—no heavenl y iifuences however 
 ich, abide in that soul. When the seed falls upon the 
 eart that lics open and common, like the taint. pee 
 , ali passengers, the fowls comme and devour it. Alas 
 tis.not enough to hear, unless we take heed how we 
 lear; a man may pray, and never be the better, unless 
 ne ail unto prayer. In a word, all means are blessed 
 0 the improvement of grace, according to the care and 
 strictness we use in keeping our hearts in them. 
 
24 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 6. The stability of our souls in the hovr of temptat 
 depends upon the care we exercise in keeping our hearts, 
 The careless heart is an easy prey to Satan in the hour 
 of temptation ; his principal batteries are raised agai 
 the heart; if he wins that he wins all, for it commands 
 the whole man: and alas! how easy a conquest is . 
 neglected heart! It is not more difficult to surprise s ch 
 a heart, than for an enemy to enter that city whose gates 
 are open and unguarded. It is the watchful heart that 
 discovers and suppresses the temptation before it com 
 to its strength. Divines observe this to be the method ip 
 which temptations are ripened and brought to their fall 
 strength. There is the irritation of the object, or t 
 power it has to provoke our corrupt nature; which j 
 
 speculation when the object (though absent) is held out 
 by the imagination before the soul. Then follows th 
 motion of the appetite, which is provoked by the faney 
 representing it as a sensual good. Then there is a con 
 sultation in the mind about the best means of accomplis 
 ing it. Next follows the election, or choice of the will 
 And lastly, the desire, or full engagement of the will te 
 it. All this may be done in a few minutes, for the debates 
 of the soul are quick and soon ended: when it comes 
 thus far, the heart is won, Satan hath entered victo 
 riously and displayed his colors upon the walls of that 
 royal fort; but, had the heart been well guarded at first, 
 it had never come to this—the temptation had been stop 
 ped in the first or second act. And indeed there it is 
 stopped easily ; for it is in the motion of a soul tempt 
 
 to sin, as in the motion of a stone falling from the brow 
 of a hill—it is easily stopped at first, but when once it 
 set in motion “it acquires strength by descending, 
 Therefore it is the greatest wisdom to observe the fin 
 motions of the heart, to checi and stop sin there. - 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. 2% 
 
 motions of sin are weakest at first; a little care and 
 watchfulness may prevent much mischief now; the 
 careless heart not heeding this, is brought within -the 
 power of temptation, as the Syrians were brought blind- 
 a into the midst of Samaria, before they knew where 
 ey were. : 
 ie hope that these considerations satisfy my readers that 
 it is important to keep the heart with all diligence. I 
 roceed, = 
 Thirdly, To point out those special seasons in the life 
 a a Christian which require our utmost diligence in 
 eeping the heart. Though (as was observed before) 
 he duty is always binding, and there is no time or con- 
 dition of life in which we may be excused from this 
 york; yet there are some signal seasons, eritical hours, 
 Eouting more than common vigilance over the heart. 
 _ 1. The first season is the time of prosperity, when 
 Providence smiles upon us. Now, Christian, keep thy 
 eart with ail diligence ; for it will be very apt to grow 
 secure, proud and earthly. “To see a man humble in 
 rosperity,”(says Bernard, ) “is one of the greatest rarities 
 the world.” Even a good Hezekiah could not hide 
 vain-glorious temper in his temptation; hence that 
 aution to Israel: “ And it shall be, when the Lord thy 
 d shali have brought thee into the land which he 
 ware to thy fathers, to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob, 
 give thee great and gcodly cities which thou buildest 
 jot, and houses full of all good things which thou filledst 
 t,” &c. “then beware lest thou forget the Lerd.” Sc 
 deed it happened: for “ Jeshurun waxed fat and kick- 
 How then may a Christian keep his heart from 
 ride and carnal security under the smiles of Providence 
 and the confluence of creature-comforts 2 
 * There are several helps to secure the heart from the 
 gerous snares of prosperity. 
 
 K. the Heart. 
 
' 
 26 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 1. Consider the dangerous ensnaring temptations at 
 tending a pleasant and prosperous condition. Few, ver 
 few of those that live in the pleasures of this world, 
 escape everlasting perdition. “It is easier ” (says Christ) 
 “for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle, t 
 for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven; | 
 “Not many mighty, not many noble are called.” 
 
 We have great reason to tremble, when the Scrip ure 
 tells us in general that few shall be saved; much m 
 when it tells us, that of that rank of which wea 
 few shall be saved. When Joshua ¢ lall 1 
 of Israel to cast lots for the discovery of Achan, dout 
 Achan feared; when the tribe of Judah was taken, h 
 fear increased ; but when the family of the Zarhites we 
 taken, it was time to tremble. So when the Scripture 
 come so near as to tell us that of such a class of 
 few shall escape, it is time tobealarmed, I 
 der” (says Chrysostom) “if any of the rulers be sav 
 O how many have been wheeled to hell in the ehe 
 of earthly -pleasures; while others have been whipped 
 heaven by the rod of affliction ! How few, like the daue I 
 ter of Tyre, come to Christ with a gift! How few among 
 the rich entreat his favor! She 
 
 2. It may keep one more humble and watchful in p 
 perity, to consider that among Christians many have bee 
 much the worse for it How good had it been for some 
 of them, if they had never known prosperity ! Whe 
 they were in a low condition, how humble, spiritual aa 
 heavenly they were ! but when advanced, what an ap 
 rent alteration has been upon their ! wa 
 with Israel; when they were in 
 wilderness, then Israel was “In 
 when they came into Canaan and 
 language was, “ We are lords, 
 
 unto thes.” Outward gains are or 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. | 27 
 
 inward losses; as in alow condition their civil em- 
 ployments were wont to have a savor of their religious 
 duties, so im an exalted condition their duties com- 
 monly have a savor of the world. He, indeed, is rich 
 in grace whose graces are not hindered by his riches. 
 There are but few Jehosaphats in the world, of whom 
 it is said, “He had silver and gold in abundance, and 
 his heart was lifted up in the way of God’s com- 
 mands.” Will not this keep thy h@rt humble in pros- 
 perity, to think how dearly many godly men have 
 sald, for their riches; that through them they have 
 ost that which all the world cannot purchase 2 
 
 ‘ 3. Keep down thy vain heart by this consideration ; 
 God values no man the more for these things. God 
 values no man by outward excellencies, but by inward 
 graces ; they are the internal ornaments of the Spirit, 
 which are of great price in God’s sight. God de- 
 spises all worldly glory, and accepts no man’s per- 
 son; “but in every nation, he that feareth God and 
 worketh righteousness is accepted of him.” Indeed, 
 {the judgment of God went by the same rule that 
 nan’s does, we might value ourselves by these things, 
 ind stand upon them: but so much every man is, as 
 ae is in the judgment of God. Does thy heart yet 
 swell, and will neither of the former considerations 
 keep it humble ? 
 
 4. Consider how bitterly many dying persons have 
 ewailed their folly in setting their hearts upon these 
 hings, and have wished that they had never known 
 them. How dreadful was the situation of Pius Quin- 
 us, who died crying out despairingly, “ When I was 
 a low condition I had some hopes of salvation , 
 en I was advanced to be a cardinal, I greatly 
 yubted ; but since I came to the popedom I have no 
 
28 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 . 
 
 hope at all.” An author also tells us a real, but s 
 story of a rich oppressor, who had scraped up a grea 
 estate for his only son: when he eame to die he 
 called his son to him, and said, Son, do you indee 
 love me?” The son answered that “ Nature, beside 
 his paternal indulgence, obliged him to that.” “The 
 (said the father) express it by this: hold thy finger 
 in the candle as long as I am saying a prayer.” The 
 son attempted, butGcould not endure it. Upon that 
 the father broke out into these expressions: “ Thot 
 canst not suffer the burning of thy finger for me; but 
 to get this wealth I have hazarded my soul for thes, 
 and must burn, body and soul, in hell, for thy sake 
 thy pains would have been but for a moment, but min 
 will be unquenchable fire,” f 
 5. The heart may be kept humble by considering 
 of what a clogging nature earthly things are to aso i 
 heartily engaged in the way to heaven. They shui 
 out much of heaven from us at present, though the 
 may not shut us out of heaven at last. If thou co 
 sider thyself as a stranger in this world, traveling foi 
 heaven, thou hast then as much reason to be delighted 
 with these things as a weary horse has to be pleased 
 with a heavy burden. There was a serious truth in 
 the atheistical scoff of Julian» when taking away the 
 Christians’ estates, he told them “it was to make 
 them more fit for the kingdom of heaven.” 
 6. Is thy spirit still vain and lofty? Then ur, 
 upon it the consideration of that awful day of recko 
 ing, wherein, according to our receipts of merci 
 shall be our account for them. Methinks this shou 
 awe and humble the vainest heart that ever was in th 
 breast of a saint. Knew for a certainty that the Lo 
 records all the mercies that ever he gave thee, fr 
 
 © 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. 29 
 
 the beginning to the end of thy life. “Remember, 
 O my people, from Shittim unto Gilgal,” &c. Yes, 
 they are exactly numbered and recorded in order to 
 an account ; and thy account will he suitable: “To 
 whomsoever much is given, of him shall much be re- 
 quired.” You are but a steward, and your Lord will 
 come and take an account of you; and what a great 
 account have: you to make, who have much of this 
 world in your hands! What swift witnesses will 
 your mercies be against you, if this be the best fruit 
 of them! 5 
 
 _ 7. It is a very humbling reflection, that the mercies 
 of God should work otherwise upon my spirit than 
 they used to do upon tke spirits of others to whom 
 they come as sanctified mercies from the love of God. 
 Ah, Lord! what a sad consideration is this! enough 
 to lay me in the dust, when I consider : 
 
  (1.) That their mercies have greatly humbled them , 
 the higher God has raised them, the lower they have 
 laid themselves before him. Thus did Jacob when | 
 God had given him much substance. “And Jacob 
 said, I am not worthy of the least of all thy mercies, 
 and all the truth which thou hast showed thy servant; 
 for with my staff I passed over this Jordan, and am 
 ow become two bands.” Thus also it was with holy 
 David ; when God had confirmed the promise to him, 
 o build him a house, and not reject him as he did Saul, 
 ne goes in before the Lord and says, “ Who am I, and 
 what is my father’s house, that thou hast brought me 
 itherto ?” So indeed God required. When Israel 
 rought to him the first fruits of Canaan, they were 
 osay, “A Syrian ready to perish was my father,” 
 Do others raise God the higher for his raising 
 em ? and the more God raises me, the more shall I 
 
 ; 3x 
 
30 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 abuse him and exalt myself? O how wicked is such 
 conduct as this! i 
 
 (2.) Others have freely ascribed the glory of all their 
 enjoyments to God, and magnified not themselves, b 
 him, for their mercies. Thus says David, “Let thy 
 name be magnified-.and the house of thy servant be) 
 established.” He does not fly upon the mercy and 
 suck out its sweetness, looking no further than his own) 
 comfort: no, he cares for no merey except God be 
 magnified in it. So when God had delivered him from 
 all his enemies, he says, “ The Lord is my strength) 
 and my rock, he is become my salvation.” Saints of 
 old did not put the crown upon their own heads as 
 do by my vanity. 
 
 (3.) The mercies of God have been melting mercies 
 unto others, melting their souls in love to the God ¢ 
 their mercies. When Hannah received the mercy of 
 a son, she said, “ My soul rejoiceth in the Lord ;” not 
 in the mercy, but in the God of the mercy. So also 
 Mary: “My soul doth magnify the Lord; my spiri 
 rejoiceth in God my Savior.” The word signifies te 
 make more room for God; their hearts were not con- 
 tracted, but the more enlarged to God. 
 
 (4.) The mercies of God have been great restraint 
 to keep others from sin. “Seeing thou, our God, has 
 given us such a deliverance as this, should we agai 
 break thy commandments?” Ingenuous souls hay 
 felt the force of the obligations of love and mere} 
 upon them. 
 
 (5.) The mercies of God to others have been as of 
 to the wheels of their obedience, and made them more 
 fit for service. Now if mercies work contrarily upon 
 my heart, what cause have I to be afraid that they come 
 not tome in love! It is enough to damp the spirits 
 
| 
 | 
 : ON KEEPING THE HEART. 31 
 
 | 
 f anv saint, tosee what sweet effects mercies have 
 
 ad upon others, and what bitter effects upon him. 
 II. The second season in the life of a Christian, re- 
 quiring more than common diligence to keep his heart, 
 is the time of adversity. When Providence frowns 
 upon you, and blasts your outward comforts, then 
 look to your heart; keep it with all diligence from 
 repining against God, or fainting under his hand; for 
 troubles, though sanctified, are troubles still. Jonan 
 was a good man, and yet how fretful was his heart 
 under affliction! Job was the mirror of patience, yet 
 how was his heart discomposed by troubie! You will 
 find it hard to get a composed spirit under great afflic- 
 tions. O the hurries and tumults which they occasion 
 even in the best hearts !—Let me show you, then, how 
 a Christian under great afflictions may keep his heart 
 from zepining or desponding, under the hand of God. 
 _ I will here offer several helps to keep the heart in 
 .. condition. 
 1. By these cross providences God is faithfully 
 pursuing the great design of electing love upon the 
 
 ouls of his people, and orders all these afflictions as 
 means sanctified to ‘that end. Afflictions come not by 
 casualty, but by counsel. By this counsel of God they 
 are ordained as means of much spiritual good to saints. 
 “ By this shall the iniquity of Jacob be purged,” &c. 
 if But he for our profit,” &c. “ All things work together 
 for good,” &c. They are God’s workmen upon our 
 hearts, to pull down the pride and carnal security of 
 them ; and being so, their nature is changed ; they are 
 ‘tumed into blessings and benefits. “It is good for me 
 that I have been afflicted,” says David. Surely then 
 thou hast no reason to quarrel with God, but rather to 
 wonder that he should concern himself'so mech in thy 
 
32 on KEEPING THE HEART. | 
 
 good as to use any means for accomplishing it. P; 
 could bless God if by any means he might attain the 
 resurrection of thedead. “My brethren,” says James, 
 “count it all joy when you fall into divers tempta- 
 tions.” ‘ My Father is about a design of love upon my 
 soul, and do I well to be angry with him? All th 
 he does is in pursuance of, and in reference to so 
 eternal, glorious ends upon my soul. It is my igno- 
 rance of God’s design that makes me quarrel with 
 him.’ He says to thee in this case, as he did to Peter, 
 “What I do, thou knowest not now, but thou shalt 
 know hereafter.” / 
 
 2. Though God has reserved to himself a liberty of 
 afflicting his people, yet he has tied up his own hands 
 by promise never to take away his loving kindness 
 from them. Can I contemplate this scripture with a 
 repining, discontented spirit: “I will be his Father, 
 and he shall be my son: if he commit iniquity, I will 
 chasten him with the rod of man, and with the stripes 
 of the children of men: nevertheless my mercy shall not 
 depart away from him.” O my heart, my haughty 
 heart! dost thou well to be discontent, when God has 
 given thee the whole tree, with all the clusters of com- 
 fort growing on it, because he suffers the wind to blow 
 down a few leaves? Christians have two kinds of 
 goods, the goods of the throne and the goods of the 
 footstool; immoveables and moveables. If God has 
 secured those, never let my heart be troubled at the 
 loss of these: indeed, if he had cut off his love, or dis- 
 covenanted my soul. I had reason to be cast down; 
 but this he hath not done, aor can he do it. 
 
 3. It is of great efficacy to keep the heart from sink- 
 ing under afflictions, to call to mind that thine own 
 Father has the ordering of them. Not acreature moves 
 
aa 
 : 
 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 33 
 hand or tongue against thee but by his permission. 
 Suppose the cup be bitter, yet it isthe cup which thy 
 Father hath given thee; and canst thou suspect poison 
 to be init? Foolish man, put home the case to thine 
 own heart; canst thou give thy child that which would 
 ruin him? No! thou wouldst as soon hurt thyself as 
 lim. “Ifthou then, being evil, knowest how to give 
 good gifts to thy children,” how much more does God! 
 ‘The very consideration of his nature as a God of love, . 
 ity, and tender mercies ; or of his relation to thee asa 
 7 husband, friend, — be security enough, if he 
 had not spoken a ee to quiet thee in this case; and 
 t you have his word too, by the prophet Jeremiah: 
 *I will do you no hurt.” You lie too near his heart 
 or him to hurt you; nothing grieves him more than 
 our groundless and unworthy suspicions of nis designs. 
 Would it not grieve a faithful, tender-hearted physician, 
 when he had studied the case of his patient, and pre- 
 pared the most excellent medicines to save his life, to 
 gear him ery out, ‘O he has undone me! he has poi- 
 soned me? because it pains him in the operation? G 
 when will you be ingenuous ? 
 _ 4. God respects you as much in a low as in a high 
 tondition ; and therefore it need not so much trouble 
 ou to be made low; nay, he manifests more of his 
 Ove, grace and tenderness in the time of affliction than 
 jn the time of prosperity. As God did not at first 
 thoose you because you were high, he will not now for- 
 jake you because you are low. Men may look shy 
 ipon you, and alter their respects as your condition 
 /s altered ; when Providence has blasted your estate, 
 your summer-friends may grow strange, fearing you 
 ay be troublesome to them; but will God do so? 
 Xo, no: “I will never leave thee nor forsake thee.” 
 
. | 
 
 34 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 says he. If adversity and poverty could bar you from 
 access to God, it were indeed a deplorable condition: 
 but, so far from this, you may go to him as freely as 
 ever. “My God will hearme,” says the church. Poor 
 David, when stripped of all earthly comforts, could en- 
 courage himself in the Lord his God; and why cannot 
 you? Suppose your husband or son had lost all at 
 sea, and should come to you in rags; could you deny 
 the relation, or refuse to entertain him? Ifyou would 
 not, much less will God. Why then are you so troub- 
 led? Though your condition be changed, your Fa- 
 ther’s love is not changed. 
 5. What if by the loss of outward comforts God 
 preserves your soul from the ruining power of tempta- 
 tion? Surely then you have little cause to sink your 
 heart by such sad thoughts.. Do not earthly enjoy- 
 ments make men shrink and warp in times of trial? 
 For the love of these many have forsaken Christ in 
 such an hour. The young ruler “went away sor 
 rowful, for he had great possessions.” If this is God’s 
 design, how ungrateful to murmur against him for itt 
 We see mariners in a storm can throw over board the 
 most valuable goods to preserve their lives. We know 
 it is usual for soldiers in a besieged city to destroy the 
 finest buildings without the walls in which the enemy 
 may take shelter; and no one doubts that it is wisely 
 done. Those who have mortified limbs willingly streteh 
 them out to be cut off, and not only thank, but pay the 
 surgeon. Must God be murmured against for casting 
 over that which would sink youin a storm; for pulling 
 down that which would assist your enemy in the siege 
 of temptation; for cutting off what would endanger 
 your everlasting life? O, inconsiderate, ungrateful 
 man! are not these things for which thou grievest, the 
 very things that have ruined thousands of souls? 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. 35 
 
 6. It would much support thy heart under adversity, 
 tu consider that God by such humbling providences 
 may be accomplishing that for which you have long 
 prayed and waited. And shculd you be troubled at 
 that? Say, Christian, hast thou not many prayers 
 depending before God upon such accounts as these 
 that he would keep thee from sin; discover to thee the 
 emptiness of the creature; that he would mortify and 
 kill thy lusts; that thy heart may never find rest in 
 any enjoyment but Christ? By such humbling and 
 impoverisning strokes God may be fulfilling thy de- 
 sire. Wouldst thou be kept from sin? Lo, he hath 
 
 dged up thy way with thorns. Wouldst thou see the 
 creature’s vanity? Thy affliction is a fair glass to dis- 
 cover it; for the vanity of the creature is never so ef- 
 fectually and sensibly discovered, as in our own expe- 
 tience. Wouldst thou have thy corruptions mortified ? 
 This is the way: to have the food and fuel removed 
 that maintained them; for as prosperity begat and fed 
 them, so adversity, when sanctified, is a means to kill 
 them. Wouldst thou have thy heart rest no where 
 but in the bosom of God? What better method could 
 Providence take to accomplish thy desire than pulling 
 rom under thy head that soft pillow of creature-de- 
 jights on which you rested before? And yet you fret 
 at this: peevish child, how dost thou try thy Father’s 
 patience! If he delay to answer thy prayers, thou art 
 ready to say he regards thee not; if he does that which 
 eally answers the end of them, though not in the way 
 hich you expect, you murmur against him for that; — 
 as if, instead of answering, he were crossing all thy 
 Opes and aims, Isthisingenuous? Is it not enough 
 hat God is so gracious as to do what thou desirest: 
 must thou be so impudent as to expect him to do it in 
 the way which thou prescribest ? 
 
36 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 7. It may support thy heart, to consider that 
 these troubles God is performing that work in whi 
 thy soul would rejoice, if thou didst see the design 
 it. We are clouded with much ignorance, and are 
 able to discern how particular providences tend to 
 fulfillment of God’s designs; and therefore, like Israe 
 in the wilderness, are often murmuring, because Provi- 
 dence leads us about in a howling desert, where we are 
 exposed to difficulties ; though then he led them, and 
 is now leading us, by the right way to a city of habita- 
 tions. If you could but see how God in his secre’ 
 counsel has exactly laid the whole plan of your salva- 
 tion, even to the smallest means and circumstances; 
 could you but discern the admirable harmony of divi 
 dispensations, their mutual relations, together with 
 the general respect they all have to the last end; had 
 you liberty to make your own choice, you would, 
 of al] conditions in the world, choose that in which you 
 now are. Providence is like a curious piece of tapes- 
 try made of a thousand shreds, which, single, appear 
 useless, but put together, they represent a beautiful his- 
 tory to the eye, As God does all things according to t e 
 eounsel of his own will, of course this is ordained 4 
 the best method to effect your salvation. Such an 
 has a proud heart, so many humbling providences J 
 appoint for him ; such an one hes an earthly heart, i 
 many rapeuereatiins providences for him. Did 
 
 but see this, I need say no more to support the m 
 dejected heart. 
 
 8. It would much conduce to the settlement 
 your heart, to consider that by fretting and discontel 
 you do yourself more injury than all your afflictio 
 could do. Your own discontent is that which ar 
 your troubles with a sting; you make your burden 
 
 i] 
 ; 
 
ON KEEPING TRE HEART. 37 
 
 heavy by struggling under it. Did you but lie quietly 
 under the hand of God, your condition would be much 
 more easy than it is. ‘ Impatience in the sick occa- 
 sions severity in the physician.” -This makes God af- 
 flict the more, as a father astubborn child that receives 
 not correction. Beside, it unfits the soul to pray over 
 ils troubles, or receive the sense of that good which 
 God intends by them. Affliction is a pill, which, being 
 wrapt up in patience and quiet submission, may be ea- 
 ily swallowed ; but discontent chews the pill, and so 
 smbitters the soul. God throws away some comfort 
 which he saw would hurt you, and you will throw 
 iway your peace after it; he shoots an arrow which 
 ticks in your clothes, and was never intended to hurt, 
 jut only to drive you from sin, and you will thrust it 
 leper, to the piercing of your very heart, by despon- 
 lency and discontent. 
 9. Ifthy heart (like that of Rachel) still refuses 
 o be comforted, then do one thing more: compare the 
 Ondition thou art now in, and with which thou art so 
 auch dissatisfied, with the condition in which others 
 re, and in which thou deservest to be. ‘Others are 
 oaring in flames, howling under the scourge of ven- 
 eance ; and among them I deserve tobe. O my soul! 
 this hell? is my condition as bad as that of the damn- 
 d2 what would thousands now in hell give to ex- 
 ange conditions with me! I have read (says an au- 
 er) that when the Duke of Conde had voluntarily 
 bjected himself to the inconveniences of poverty, he 
 as one day observed and pitied by a lord of Italy, 
 rho from tenderness wished him to be more careful 
 his person.’ The good duke answered, “ Sir, be not 
 ubled, and think not that I suffer from want; for I 
 
 da harbinger before me, who makes ready my 
 4 K. the Heart. 
 
38 ON KEEPING’ THE HEART. 
 
 lodgings and takes care that I be royally entertained” 
 The lord asked him who was his harbinger? He an 
 swered, “ The knowledge of myself, and the considera 
 tion of what I deserve for my sins, which is eterna) 
 torment; when with this knowledge I arrive at my 
 lodging, however unprovided I find it, methinks -it is 
 much better than Ideserve. Why doth the living man 
 complain?” Thus.the heart may be kept from de- 
 sponding or repining under adversity. - is 
 
 III. The third season ealling for more than ordina- 
 ry diligence to:keep the heart is the time of Zion's 
 troubles. When the Church, like the ship in which 
 Christ-and his disciples were, is oppressed and rea 
 to perish in the waves of persecution, then good souls: 
 are ready to be shipwrecked too, upon: the billows of 
 their own fears. It,is true, most men need the spur 
 rather than the reins in this case; yet some men sit 
 down discouraged under a sense of the Church’s trou- 
 bles.. The loss of the ark cost Eli his life; the sad 
 posture in which Jerusalem lay made good Nehemi- 
 ah’s countenance change in the midst of all the plea- 
 sures and accommodations of the court. But though 
 God allows, yea, commands the most awakened appre- 
 hensions of. these calamities, and in “ such a day ealls 
 to mourning; weeping, and girding with sackcloth” 
 and severely threatens the insensible; yet it will not 
 please him to see you sit like pensive Elijah under the 
 juniper tree. “ Ah, Lord God! it is enough, take away 
 my life also.” No: a mourner in Zion you may and 
 ought to be, but a self-tormentor you must not be; 
 complain to God you may, but complain of God 
 (though but by the language of your actions) you 
 just not. 
 
 Now let us inquire how tendem liearts may be re- 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. 39 
 
 - jieved and supported, when they are even overwhelm- 
 ed with the burdensome sense of Zion’s troubles? I 
 grant it is hard for him who preferreth Zion to his chief 
 
 _joy, to keep his heart that it sink not below the due 
 
 sense of its troubles; yet this ought to, and may be 
 
 done, by the use of such heart-establishing directions 
 as these : 
 
 1. Settle this great truth in your heart, that no trou- 
 
 ble befalls Zion but by the permission of Zion’s God ; 
 
 and he permits nothing out of which he will not ulti- 
 mately bring much good to his people. Comfort may 
 
 _be derived from reflections on the permitting as well 
 
 as on the commanding will of God. “ Let him alone, 
 
 it may be God hath bidden him.” “Thou couldst 
 
 / have no power against me, except it were given thee 
 
 from above.” It should much calm our spirits, that it 
 is the will of God to suffer-it ; and that, had he not suf- 
 
 fered it, it could never have been as it is. This very 
 consideration quieted Job, Eli, David, and Hezekiah. 
 
 That the Lord did it was enough to them: and why 
 | should it not beso to us? If the Lord will have Zion 
 ploughed as a field, and her goodly stones lie in the 
 dust; if it be his pleasure that Anti-Christ shall rage 
 
 _ yet longer and wear out the saints of the Most High; 
 
 if it be his will that a day of trouble, and of treading 
 
 | down; and of perplexity by the Lord God of Hosts, 
 
 ' shall be upon the valley of vision; that the wicked 
 
 | shall devour the man that is more righteous than he; 
 
 ' what are we that we should contend with God? It is 
 
 | fit that we should be resigned to that Will whence we 
 
 | proceeded, and that He that made us should dispose of 
 | us as he pleases: he may do what seemeth him good 
 | without our consent. Doth poor man stand upon 
 
 ) equal ground, that he may capitulate with his Creator ; 
 
7 
 
 49 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 or that God should render him an account of any of 
 his matters? That we be content, however God may 
 dispose of us, is as reasonable as that we be obedient, 
 whatever he may require of us. But if we pursue this 
 argument farther, and consider that God’s permissions 
 all meet at last in the real good of his people, this will 
 much more quiet our spirits. Do the enemies carry 
 away the best among the people mto captivity? This 
 looks like a distressing providence; but God sends 
 them thither for their good. Does God take the Assy- 
 rian as a staff in his hand to beat his people with? 
 The end of his so doing is, “that he may accomplish 
 his whole work upon Mount Zion.” If God can bri 
 much good out of the greatest evil of sin, much m 
 out of temporal afflictions; and that he will, is as evi- 
 dent as that he can do so. For it is inconsistent with 
 the wisdom of a common agent to permit any thing 
 (which he might prevent if he pleased) to cross his 
 great design; and can it be imagined that the most 
 wise God should do so? As, then, Luther said to Me- 
 lancthon, so say I to you: “ Let infinite wisdom, power 
 and love alone ;” for by these all creatures are swayed, 
 and all actions guided, in reference to the church. It 
 is not our work to rule the world, but to submit to 
 Him that does. The motions of Providence are all ju- 
 dicious, the wheels are full of eyes: it is enough that 
 the affairs of Zion are in a good hand. 
 
 2. Ponder this heart-supporting truth: how many 
 troubles soever are upon Zion, yet her King is in her 
 What! hath the Lord forsaken his churches? has he 
 sold them into the enemy’s hands? Does he not re 
 gard what evil befalls them, that our hearts sink thus? 
 Is it not shamefully undervaluing the great God, ard 
 too much magnifying poor impotent man, to fear and 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. 41 
 
 ttemble at creatures while God is in the midst of us? 
 The church’s enemies are many and mighty: let that 
 be granted, yet that argument with which Caleb and 
 Joshua strove to raise their own hearts, is of as much 
 force now as it was then: “The Lord is with us, fear 
 them not.” A historian tells us, that when Antigonus 
 overheard his soldiers reckoning how many their ene- 
 thies were; and so discouraging one another, he sud- 
 denly stepped in among them with this question, “And 
 how many do you reckon me for?’ Discouraged 
 souls, how many do you reckon the Lord for? Is he 
 not an overmatch for all hisenemies? Is not one Al- 
 mighty thore than many mghties? “If God be for 
 us, who can be against us?’ What think you was the 
 reason of that great examination Gideon made? He 
 questions, he desires a sign, and after that, another: 
 and what was the end of all this, but that he might be 
 sure the Lord was with him, and that he might but 
 Write this motto upon his ensign: The stcord of the 
 Lord and of Gideon. So if vou can be well assuted 
 the Lord is with his people, you will thereby rise above 
 all your discouragements: and that he is so, you need 
 hot require a sign from heaven ; lo; you have a sign 
 before you, even their marvellous preservation amidst 
 ell their enemies. If God be not with his people, how 
 " it that they are not swallowed up quickly? Do their 
 enemies want malice, power, or opportunity ? No, but 
 here is afi invisible hand upon them. Let then his 
 Bean give us rest; and though the mountains be 
 hurled into the sea, though heaven and earth mingle 
 together, fear not; God is in the midst of Zion, she 
 shall not be ilies. 
 
 | 3. Consider the great advantages attending the peo- 
 ple of God in an afflicted condition. If a low and ap 
 
 4* 
 
 . 
 
® » 4 
 
 42 ON KEEPING THE HEART, 
 
 afflicted state in the world be really best for the chureh; 
 then your dejection is not only irrational, but ungrate- 
 ful. Indeed if you estimate the happiness of the chureh 
 by its worldly ease, splendor and prosperity, then 
 times of affliction will appear to be ee 
 if you reckon its glory to consist in its humility, 
 faith, and heavenly-mindedness, no condition so much 
 abounds with advantages for these as an afflicted co 
 dition. It was not persecutions and prisons, but wor 
 liness and wantonness that poisoned the church: nei- 
 ther was it the earthly glory of its professors, but * 
 blood of its martyrs that was the seed of the chure 
 The power of godliness did never thrive better than in 
 affliction, and was never less thriving than in times of 
 greatest prosperity : when .“ we are left a poor and an 
 afflicted people, then we learn to trust in the name 
 the Lord.” It is indeed for the saints’ advantage to be 
 weaned from love of, and delight in, ensnaring earth- 
 ly vanities; to be quickened and urged forward with 
 more haste to heaven; to have clearer discoveries of 
 their own hearts; to be taught to pray more fervently, 
 frequently, spiritually; to look and long for the rest to 
 come more ardently. If these be for their advantage, 
 experience teaches us that no condition is.ordinarily 
 blessed with such fruits as these, like an afflicted con- 
 dition. Is it well then to repine and droop, because 
 your Father consults the advantage of your soul ra- 
 ther than the gratification of your humors? because 
 he will bring you to heaven by a nearer.way than y: 
 are willing to go? Is this a due requital of his lo 
 who is pleased so much to concern himself in your 
 welfare—who does more for you than he will do for 
 thousands in the world, upon whom he will not laya 
 rod, dispense an affliction to them for their good? But 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. 43 
 
 alas! we judge by sense, and reckon things good or 
 evil, according to our present taste. 
 
 4. Take heed that you overlook not the many pre- 
 sious mercies which the people of God enjoy amidst 
 ill their trouble. It isa pity that our tears on account 
 of our troubles should so blind our eyes that we should 
 10t see our mercies. I will not insist upon the merey — 
 having your life given you for a prey; nor upon 
 he many outward comforts which you enjoy, even 
 ibove what were enjoyed by Christ and his precious 
 ervants, of whom the world was not worthy. But 
 vhat say you to pardon of sin; interest in Christ; the 
 sovenant of promise; and an eternity of hep pines in 
 he presence of God, after a few days are over? O 
 liat a people entitled to such mercies as these should 
 lroop under any temporal affliction, or be so much 
 soncerned for the frowns of men and the loss of trifles. 
 You have not the smiles of great men, but you have 
 he favor of the great God ; you are perhaps diminished 
 n temporal, but you are thereby inereased in spiritual 
 nd eternal goods. You cannot live so plentifully as 
 lefore; but you may live as. heavenly as ever. Will 
 Tou avers so much for these circumstances as to for- 
 fet your substance? Shall light troubles make you 
 prget weighty mercies? Remember the true riches 
 Mf the church are laid out of the reach of all enemies. 
 Vhat though God do not in his eutward dispensations 
 istinguish between his own and others? Yea, what 
 hough his judgments single out the best, and spare 
 he worst? What though am Abel be killed in love, 
 nd a Cain survive in hatred; a bloody Dionysius die 
 n his bed, and a good Sistah fall in battle? What 
 hough the belly of the wicked be filled with hidden 
 reasures, and the teeth of the saints with gravel- 
 
 i 
 ) 
 i] 
 i 
 i 
 
44 ON KEEPING THE HEART: 
 
 stones? Still there is much matter of praise; fot elect 
 ing love has distinguished, though common providence 
 hes not: and while prosperity and impunity slay the 
 wicked, even slaying and adversity shall benefit and 
 save the righteous: fl 
 
 5. Believe that how low soever the church be plung: 
 ed under the waters of adversity, she shall assuredly 
 rise again. Fear not; for as surely as Christ on 
 the third day, notvrithstareiane the seal and watch 
 on him; so surely Zion shall arise out of all her 
 tronbles, and lift up her victorious head over all 
 enemies. There is no reason to fear the ruin of 
 people who thrive by their losses and multiply by be- 
 ing diminished. Be not too hasty to bury the churek 
 before she is dead ; stay till Christ has tried his skill) 
 before you give her up for lost. The bush may be alt 
 in a flame, but shall never be consumed ; and that be- 
 eause of the good will of Him that dwelleth in it. 
 
 6. Remember the instances of God’s care and ten- 
 derness over his people in former difficuities. For 
 above eighteen hundred years the Christian chureh 
 has been: in affliction, and yet it is not consumed; 
 many a wave of persecution has gone over it, yet it is 
 not drowned ; many devices have been formed against 
 it, hitherto none of them has prospered. -This is not 
 the first time that Hamans and Ahithophels have 
 plotted its ruin ; that a Herod has stretched out his 
 hand to vex it; still it has been. preserved from, sup- 
 ported under, ot delivered ont of all its troubles, Is it 
 not as dear to’ God as ever? Is he not as able to save 
 it now as formerly? Though we know not whence 
 deliverance should arise, “ yet the Lord knoweth how 
 to deliver the godly out of temptations.” 
 
 7. If yow ean derive no: comfort from any of these 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. 45 
 
 vonsiderations, try to draw some out of your very 
 rouble. Surely this trouble of yours is a good evi- 
 lence of your integrity. Union is the ground of sym- 
 yathy : if you had not some rich adventure in that 
 hip, you would not tremble as you do when it is in 
 langer. Beside this frame of spirit may afford you 
 his consolation, that if you are so sensible of Zion’s 
 rouble, Jesus Christ is much more sensible of and so- 
 icitous about it than you can be; and he will have an 
 ye of favor upon them that mourn for it. 
 
 IV. The fourth season, requiring our utmost dil:- 
 fence to keep our hearts, is the time of danger and 
 jublic distraction. In such times the best hearts are 
 00 apt to be surprised by slavish fear. If Syria be 
 onfederate with Ephraim, how do the hearts of the 
 touse of David shake, even as the trees of the woud 
 ynich are shaken with the wind. When there are omi- 
 ous signs in the heavens, or the distress of nations 
 7ith perplexity, the sea and the waves roaring; then 
 ae hearts of men fail for fear, and for looking after 
 rose things which are coming on the earth. Evena 
 ‘aul may sometimes complain of “ fightings within, 
 rhen there are fears without.” 
 
 But, my brethren, these things ought not so to he; 
 aints should be of a more elevated spirit ; so was David 
 mhen his heart was kept in a good frame: “The 
 
 jord ismy light and my salvation; whomshall I fear? 
 re Lord is the strength of my nies of whom shall I 
 
 afraid?” Let none but the servants of sin be the 
 _ of fear; let them that have delighted in evil fear 
 vil. Let not that which God has threatened as a 
 idgment upon the wicked, ever seize upon the hearts 
 
 [the righteous. “TI will send faintness into their 
 parts in the land of their enemies, and the sound of 
 
% 
 
 a shaking leaf shall chase them.” What poor spint 
 ed men are those, to fly at a shaking leaf! A les 
 makes a pleasant, not a terrible noise ; it makes indee 
 a kind of natural musie: but to a guilty conscienes 
 even the whistling leaves are drums and trumpets’ 
 “ But God has not given us the spirit of fear, but 0 
 love and of a sound mind.” A sownd mind, as i 
 stands there in opposition to fear, is an unwou 
 conscience not weakened by guilt: and this sh 
 make a man as bold as a lion. I know it cai 
 
 said of a saint, as God -said of leviathan, that he i 
 made without fear; there is a natural fear ia 
 
 46 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 man, and it is as impossible to remove it wholly, a 
 remove the body itself.. Fear is perturbation of 
 mind, arising from the apprehension of approi 
 danger ; and as long as dangers can approach us, W 
 shall find some perturbations within us. It is not my 
 purpose to commend to you a stoical apathy, nor yeti 
 dissuade you from such a degree of cautionary 
 ventive fear as may fit you for trouble and be servi 
 able to your -soul. There is a provident fear tha 
 opens our eyes to foresee danger, and quiekens us tt 
 a prudent and lawful use of means to prevent it: suel 
 was Jacob’s fear, and such his prudence when ect 
 ing to meet his angry brother Esau. But it is thai 
 of diffidence,; from which I would persuade you t 
 keep your heart; that tyrannical passion whieh in 
 the heart in times of danger, distracts, weakens 4 
 unfits it for duty, drives men upon unlawful meaii 
 and brings a snare with it. ‘le 
 Now let us inquire how a Christian may keep hi 
 heart from distracting and tormenting fears in tim 
 of great and threatening dangers. There are sever 
 excellent rules for keeping the heart from inf 
 when imminent dangers threaten us. 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART, 47 
 
 . 1. Look upon all creatures as in the hand of God, 
 who manages them in all their motions, limiting, re- 
 straining and determining them at his pleasure. Get 
 this great truth well settled by faith in your heart, and 
 it will-guard you against slavish fears. The first 
 chapter of Ezekiel contains an admirable draught of 
 Proyidence: there you see the living creatures who 
 move the wheels (that is, the great revolutions of things 
 here below) coming unto Christ, who sits upon the 
 shrone, to receive new instructions from him. In 
 Revelations, 6th chapter, you read of white, black, and 
 ‘ed horses, which are but the instruments God employs 
 n executing judgments in the world, as wars, pesti- 
 ence, and death. When these horses are prancing and 
 trampling up and down in the world, here is a con- 
 jideration that may quiet our hearts; God has the 
 eins in: his hand. Wicked men are sometimes like 
 nad horses, they would stamp the people of God un- 
 \er,their feet, but that the bridle of Providence is in 
 heir mouths. A lion at liberty is terrible to meet, but 
 vho is afraid of alion in the keeper’s hand 2 
 
 2. Remember that this God in whose hand are all 
 reatures, is your Father, and is much more tender of 
 ( < ayes tc 
 
 ou than you are, or can be, of yourself. “He that 
 ucheth you, toucheth the apple of mine eye.” Let 
 ne ask the most timorous woman whether there be 
 lot a great difference between the sight of a drawn 
 vord in the hand of a bloody ruffian, and of the same 
 a in the hand of her own tender husband? As 
 reat a difference there is between looking upon crea- 
 ires by an eye of sense, and looking on them, as in 
 he hand of your God, by aneyeof faith. Isaiah, 54: 5, 
 here very appropriate: “Thy Maker is thine hus- 
 nd, the Lard of hosts is his name ;” he is Lord of all. 
 
‘ 
 43 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 the hosts of creatures. Who would be afraid to pass 
 through an army, though all the soldiers should turn 
 their swords and guns toward him, if the commander 
 of that army were his friend or father? A religious 
 young man being at sea with many other passengers in 
 a great storm, and they being half dead with fear, he 
 only was observed to be very cheerful, as if he were 
 but little concerned in that danger: one of them de- 
 manding the reason of his cheerfulness, “ O,” said he, 
 “it is because the pilot of the ship is my Father!” 
 Consider Christ first as the King and supreme Lord 
 over the providential kingdom, and then as your head, 
 husband and friend, and you will quickly say, “ Re- 
 turn unto thy rest, O my soul.” This truth will make 
 you cease trembling, and cause you to sing in the 
 midst of danger, “The Lord is King of all the earth, 
 sing ye praise with understanding.” ‘That is, ‘Let 
 every one that has understanding of this heart-reviy- 
 ing and establishing doctrine of the dominion of our 
 Father over all creatures, sing praise.’ 
 
 3. Urge upon your heart the express prohibitions of 
 Christ in this case, and Jet your heart stand in awe of 
 the violation of them. He hath charged you not to 
 fear: “ When we shall hear of wars and commotions, 
 see that ye be not terrified.” “In nothing be terrified 
 by your adversaries.” In Matthew, 10th, and within the 
 compass of six verses, our Savior commands us thrice, 
 “not to fear man.” Does the voice of a man ma 
 thee to tremble, and shall not the voice of God? 
 thou art of such a timorous spirit, how is it that th 
 fearest notto discbey the commands of Jesus Chri 
 Methinks the command of Christ should have as mu 
 power to calm, as the voice of a poor worm to terrify 
 thy heart. “J, even J, am he that comforteth you: 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. 49 
 
 who art thou, that thou shouldst be afraid of a man 
 that shali die, and of the son of man that shall be made 
 as the grass, and forgettest the Lord thy Maker 2?” 
 ‘We cannot fear creatures sinfully till we have forgot- 
 ten God: did we remember what he is, and what he 
 has said, we should not be of such {feeble spirits. 
 Bring thyself then te this reflection in times of danger : 
 ‘Sf I let into my heart the slavish fear of man, I'must 
 Tet out the reverential awe and fear of God; and dare 
 I cast off the fear of the Almighty for the es ofa 
 man ? shall I lift up proud dust above the great God ? 
 ‘shall I run upon a certain sin, to shun a probable 
 danger ?—O keep thy heart by this consideration ! 
 
 _ 4. Remember how much needless trouble your vain 
 fears have brought upon you formerly: “And hast 
 feared continually because of the oppressor, as if he 
 were ready to devour; and where is the fury of the 
 ‘oppressor 2 ?” He seemed ready to devour, yet you are 
 net devoured, I have not brought upon you the thing 
 that you feared ; you have wasted your spirit, disor- 
 dered your soul, and weakened your hands to no pur- 
 pose: you might have all this while enjoyed your 
 peace, and possessed your soul in patience. And here 
 I cannot but observe a very deep policy of Satan in 
 managing a design against the soul by these vain fears. 
 T call them vain, with reference to the frustration of 
 them by Providence; but certainly they are not.in 
 vain as the end at which Satan aims in raising them; 
 or herein he acts as soldiers do in the siege of a gar- 
 rison, who to wear out the besieged by constant 
 atchings, and thereby unfit them to make resistance 
 hen they storm it in earnest, every night rouse them 
 ith false alarms, which though they come to nothing, 
 et remarkably answer the ultimate design of the 
 
 5 K. the Heart. 
 
60 ON KEEPING THE HEART 
 
 enemy.—O when will you beware of Satan’s devices ? 
 
 5. Consider solemnly, that though the things you 
 fear should really happen, yet there is more evil in 
 your own fear than in the things feared: and that, 
 not only as the least evil of sin is worse than the 
 greatest evil of suffering ; but as this sinful fear has 
 really more trouble in it than there is in that condition 
 of which you are so much afraid. Fear is both a mul 
 tiplying and a tormenting passion; it represents 
 troubles as much greater than they are, and so tor 
 tures the soul much more than the suffering itself. 
 it was with Israel at the Red Sea; they cried out and 
 were afraid, till they stepped into the water, and then 
 a passage was opened through those waters which 
 they thought would have drowned them. Thus it is 
 with us; we, looking through the glass of carnal fear 
 upon the waters of trouble, the swellings of Jordan, 
 cry out, ‘O they are unfordable; we must perish in 
 them !’ But when we come into the midst of those 
 floods indeed, we find the promise made good: “ God 
 will make a way to escape.” Thus it was with a bles 
 ed martyr; when he would make a trial by putting his 
 finger to the candle, and found himself not able to 
 dure that, he cried out, “‘ What! cannot I bear 
 burning ofa finger? How then shall I be able to 
 the burning of my whole body to-morrow?” Y 
 when that morrow came he could go cheerfully into 
 the flames with this scripture in his mouth: “ Fear 
 not, for I have redeemed thee; I have called thee by 
 ihy- name, thou art mine; when thou passest through 
 the waters I will be = you; when thou walkest 
 through the fire thou shalt not be burnt.” 
 
 6. Consult the many precious promises which are 
 written for your support and comfort in all dangers, 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. 51 
 
 These are your refuges to which you may fly and be 
 
 safe when the arrows of danger fly by night, and de- 
 
 struction wasteth at noon-day. There are particular 
 _ promises suited to particular cases and exigencies; 
 there are also general promises reaching all cases and 
 conditions. Such as these: “ All things shall work to- 
 gether for good,” &c. “Though a sinner do evil an 
 
 hundred times and his days be prolonged, yet it 
 shall be well with them that fear the Lord,” &c. Could 
 you but believe the promises your heart should be 
 established. Could you but plead them with God as 
 _ Facob did, (“ Thou saidst, I will surely do thee good,” 
 &c.) they would relieve you in every distress. 
 
 7. Quiet your trembling heart by recording and con- 
 sulting your past experiences of the care and faithful- 
 _ness of God in former distresses. These experiences 
 are food for your faith in a wilderness, By this Da- 
 vid kept his heart in time of danger, and Paul his. It 
 _ was answered by a saint, when one told him that his 
 _ enemies waylaid him to take his life: “If God take 
 _ho care of me, how is it that I have escaped hitherto 2” 
 You may plead with God old experiences for new 
 ones: for it is in pleading with God for new deliver- 
 anees, as it is in pleading for new pardons. Mark 
 | how Moses pleads of that account with God. “Pardon, 
 | I beseech thee, the iniquity of this people, as thou hast 
 | forgiven them from Egypt until now.” He does not 
 /say as men do, ‘Lord, this is the first fautt, thou hast 
 | not been troubled before to sign their pardon: but, 
 | ‘Lord, because thou hast pardoned them so often, I 
 | beseech thee pardon them once again.” So in new 
 | difficulties let the saint say, ‘Lord, thou hast often 
 | heard, helped and saved, in former years; therefore 
 | now help again, for with thee there is plenteous re- 
 | demption. and thine arm is not shortened.’ 
 
52 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 8. Be well satisfied that you are in the way of your 
 duty, and that will beget holy courage in times of 
 danger. “Who will harm you if you be a follower 
 of that which is good?” Or if any dare attempt to 
 harm you “you may boldly commit yourself to God 
 in well-doing.” Jt was this consideration that raised 
 Luther’s spirit above all fear: “In the cause of God 
 (said he) I ever am, and ever shall be stout: herein I 
 assume this title, “I yield to none.” A good cause 
 will bear up a man’s spirit. Hear the saying of a hea- 
 then, to the shame of cowardly Christians: when the 
 emperor Vespasian had commanded Fluidus Priseus 
 not to come to the senate, or if he did come, to speak 
 nothing but what he would have him; the senator re- 
 turned this noble answer, “that he was a senator, it 
 was fit he should be at the senate; and if being there, 
 he were required to give his advice, he would freely 
 speak that which his conscience commanded him.” 
 The emperor threatening that then he should die; he 
 answered, “Did I ever tell you that I was immortal? 
 Do what you wiil, and I will do what I ought. It is in 
 your power to put me to death unjustly, and in my 
 power to die with constancy.” Righteousness is a 
 breastplate: let them tremble whom danger finds out 
 of the way of duty. 
 
 9. Get your conscience sprinkled with the blood of ~ 
 Christ from all guilt, and that will set your heart above 
 all fear. It is guilt upon the conscience that softens 
 and makes cowards of our spirits: “the righteous are 
 bold as a lion.” It was guilt in Cain’s conscience that 
 made him cry, “Every one that findeth me will slay 
 me.” A guilty conscience is more terrified by ima- — 
 gined dangers, than a pure conscience is by real ones. 
 A guilty sinner carries a witness against himself in 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEERT. ~ 59 
 
 his own bosom. It was guilty Herod cried out, “John 
 _ Baptist is risen frony the dead.” Such a conscience is 
 
 the devil’s anvil, on which he fabricates all these 
 
 swords and spears with which the guilty sinner pierc- 
 es himself. Guilt is to danger, what fire is to gun~ 
 | powder: aman need not fear to walk among many 
 barrels of powder, if he have no fire about him. 
 10. Exercise holy trust in times of great distress, 
 _ Make it your business to trust God with your life and 
 comforts, and then your heart will be at rest about 
 them. So did David, “At what timeI am afraid I wilh 
 trust in thee;” that is, ‘Lord, if at any time a storm 
 _ arise, I will shelter from it under the covert of thy 
 wings” Goto God by acts of faith and trust, and ne- 
 ver doubt that he will secure you. “Thow wilt keep 
 _himin perfeet peace whose mind is stayed on thee, 
 because he trusteth in thee,” says Isaiah. God is 
 | pleased when you come to him thus: ‘ Father, my life, 
 | my liberty and my estate are exposed, and F cannot 
 secure them; O let me leave them in thy hand. The 
 | poor leaveth himself with thee ; and does his God fail 
 him? No, thou art the helper of the fatherless: that is, 
 | thou art the helper of the destitute one, that has none 
 ' to'go’to but God. This is a comforting passage, “He 
 shail not be afraid of evil tidings; his heart is fixed, 
 trusting in the Lord;” he does not say, his ear shalb 
 be preserved from the report of evil tidings, he may 
 hear as sad tidings as other men, but his heart shal 
 be kept from: the terror of those tidings; his heart is 
 fixed. 
 
 11. Consult the honor of religion more, and your 
 | personal safety less: Is it for the honor of religion 
 (think you) that Christians should be as timorous as 
 hares to start at every sound’? Will not this tempt the 
 
 : 5" 
 
| 
 
 54 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 world to think, that whatever you talk, yet your prin- 
 ciples are no better than other men’s? What mis- 
 chief may the discovery of your fears before them 
 do! It was nobly said by Nehemiah, “Should suche 
 man as I flee? and who, being as I am, would flee?” 
 Were it not better you shoutd die than that the world 
 should be prejudiced against Christ by your exampie? 
 For alas! how apt is the world (who judge more by 
 what they sce in your practices than by what they 
 understand of your principles) to conclude from your 
 timidity, that how much soever you commend faith 
 and talk of assuranee, yet you dare trust to those 
 things no more than they, when it comes to the trial. 
 O let not your fears lay such a stumbling-block before 
 the blind world. 
 
 12. He that would secure his heart from fear, must 
 first secure the eternal interest of his soul in the hands 
 of Jesus Christ. When this is done, you may say, 
 ‘Now, world, do thy worst!’ You will not be very 30- 
 licitous about a vile body, when you are once assured 
 it shall be well to all eternity with your precious soul, 
 “Fear not them (says Christ) that can kill the body, 
 and after that have no more that they can do.” ‘The 
 assured Christian may smile with contempt wpon all 
 his enemies, and say, ‘Is this the worst that you can 
 do? What say you, Christian? Are you assured 
 that your soul is safe; that within a few moments of 
 your dissolution it shall be received by Christ into ar 
 everlasting habitation? If you be sure of that, never 
 trouble yourself about the instrument and means of 
 your death. 
 
 13. Learn to quench all slavish creature-fears in the 
 reverential fear of God. This is a cure by diversiony 
 It is' am exercise of Christian wisdom to turn those 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. 55 
 
 passions of the soul which most predominate, into 
 spiritual channels: to turn natural anger into spiritual 
 zeal, natural mirth into holy cheerfulness, and natural 
 
 fear into a holy dread and awe of God. This method 
 _ of cure Christ prescribes in the 10th of Matthew; 
 similar to which is Isaiah, 8: 12,13, “Fear not their 
 fear.” ‘But how shall we help it? “Sanctify the 
 Lord of hosts himself; and let him be your fear, and 
 let him be your dread.” Natural fear may be allayed 
 for the present by natural reason, or the removal of 
 the occasion; but then it is like a candie blown out by 
 a puff of breath, which is easily blown in again: but 
 if the fear of God extinguish it, then it is like a candle 
 quenched in water, which cannot easily be rekindled. 
 
 14. Pour out to God in prayer those fears which 
 the devil and your own unbelief pour in upon you in 
 - times of danger. Prayer is the best outlet to fear: 
 where is the Christian that cannot set his seal to this 
 direction? I will give you the greatest example to’ 
 encourage you to compliance, even the example of Je- 
 sus Christ. When the hour of his danger and death 
 drew nigh, he went into the garden, separated from 
 his disciples, and there wrestled mightily with God in 
 prayer, even unto agony; in reference to which the 
 apostle says, “who in the days of his flesh, when he 
 had offered up prayers and supplications, with strong 
 cries and tears, to him that was able to save from 
 | death, and was heard in that he feared.” He was 
 heard as to strengti and support tocarry him through 
 it; though not as to deliverance, or exemption from it. 
 | O ‘hat these things may abide with you, and be re- 
 | duced to practice in these evil days, and that many 
 trembling souls may be established by them. 
 
 V. The fifth season, requiring diligence in keeping 
 
56 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 the heart, is the time of owlward wants. Although ab 
 such times we should complain to God, not of God, (the 
 throne of grace being erected for a “ time of need,”)} 
 yet when the waters of relief run low, and want begins 
 to press, how prone are the best hearts te-distrust the 
 fountain! When the meal in the barrel and the oil in 
 the cruse are almost spent, our faith and patience too 
 are almost spent. It is now diffieult to keep the proud 
 and unbelieving heart in a holy quietude and sweet 
 submission at the foot of God. It is an easy thing to 
 talk of trusting God for daily bread, while we have a 
 full barn or purse; but to say as the prophet, “ Though 
 the fig-tree should not blossom, neither fruit be in the 
 vine, &c. yet will I rejoice in the Lord;” surely this 
 is not easy. 
 
 Would you know then how : a Christian may keep 
 his heart from distrusting God, or repining against him, 
 when outward wants are either felt or feared ?—The 
 ease deserves to be seriously considered, especially 
 now, since i: seems to be the design of Plogidéuce to 
 empty the peopie of God: of their ereature ih then i 
 
 acquaint them with those difficulties'to which hithe | 
 they have been altogether strangers: To seeure the 
 heart from the dangers’ attending this condition,. these 
 considerations may, through the | blessing of the Spi 
 prove effectual. 
 
 1. If God reduces you to necessities, he therein 
 deals no otherwise with yeu than he has done with 
 some of the holiest men that ever’ lived. Your con- 
 dition is not singular’; though you have hitherto been 
 a stranger to want, other saints have been familiarly 
 acquainted with it. Hear what Paul says, not of him- 
 self only, but in the name’ of other saints: reduced to | 
 hike exigencies: “Even to the present hour, we both 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. 57 
 
 hunger and thirst, and are naked, and are buffeted, and 
 have no certain dwelling-place.” To see such a man 
 as Paul going up and down the world naked, and hun- 
 gry, and houseless; one that was so far above thee 
 in grace and holiness; one that did more service for 
 | God in a day than perhaps thou hast done in all thy 
 _ days may well put an end to your repining. Have 
 you forgotten how much even a David has suffered 
 _ How great were his difficulties! “ Give, I pray thee,” 
 says he to Nabal, ‘‘ whatsoever cometh to thy hand, to 
 thy servants, and to thy son David.” But why speak 
 _lTofthese? Behold a greater than any of them, even 
 _ the Son of God, who is the heir of all things, and by 
 whom the worlds were made, sometimes would have 
 | been glad of any thing, having nothing to eat. “ And 
 _ on the morrow, when they were come from Bethany, 
 _he was hungry; and seeing a fig-tree afar off, having 
 leaves, he came, if haply he might find any thing 
 thereon.” 
 
 _ Hereby then God has set no mark of hatred upon 
 you, neither can you infer want of love from want of 
 bread. When thy repining heart puts the question, 
 ‘Was there ever sorrow like unto mine? ask these 
 worthies, and they will tell thee that though they did 
 not complain as thou dost, yet their condition was as 
 Necessitous as thine is. 
 
 2. If God leave you not in this condition without a 
 promise, you have no reason to repine or despond un- 
 der it. That isa sad condition indeed to which no pro- 
 mise belongs. Calvin in his comment on Isaiah, 9: 1, 
 explains in what sense the darkness of the captivity 
 Was not so great as that of the lesser incursions made 
 by Tiglath Pileser. In the captivity, the city was 
 destroyed and the temple burnt with fire: there was 
 
58 ON KEEPING THE HEART, 
 
 no comparison in the affliction, yet the darkness was 
 not so great, because, says he, “there was a certain 
 promise made in this case, but none in the other.” It 
 is better to be as low as hell with a promise, than to be 
 in paradise without one. Even the darkness of hell 
 itself would be no darkness comparatively at all, were 
 there but a promise to enlighten it. Now; God has 
 left many sweet promises for the faith of his poor peo- 
 ple to live upon in this condition ; such as these: “O 
 fear the Lord, ye his saints, for there is no want to 
 them that fear him; the lions do lack and suffer hun- 
 ger, but they that fear the Lord shall not want any 
 good thing.” “The eye of the Lord is upon the 
 righteous to keep them alive in famine.” “No good 
 thing will he withhold from them that walk upright- 
 ly.” “ He that spared not his own Son, but delivered 
 him up for us all, how shall he not with him also 
 freely give us all things?” ‘“ When the poor and the 
 needy seek water, and there is none, and their tongue 
 faileth for thirst, I the Lord will hear them, I the God 
 of Israel will not forsake them.” Here you see their 
 extreme wants, water being put for their necessaries 
 of life; and their certain relief, “Ithe Lord will hear 
 them ;” in which it is supposed that they cry unto him 
 in their distress, and he hears their cry. Having 
 therefore these promises, why should not your dis- 
 trustful heart conclude like David’s, “The Lord is-my 
 shepherd, I shall not want?” 
 
 ‘But these promises imply conditions: if they were 
 absolute, they would afford more satisfaction.’ What 
 are these tacit conditions of whieh you speak but 
 these, that he will either supply or sanctify your 
 wants ; that you shall have so much as God sees fit for 
 you? And does this trouble you? Would you have 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART 59 
 
 | the mercy, whether sanctified or not 2 whether God 
 | sees it fitfor youornot? The appetites of saints af- 
 _| ter earthly things should not be so ravenous as to 
 _ seize greedily upon any enjoyment without regarding 
 | circumstances. 
 * But when wants press, and I see not whence sup- © 
 _| plies should come, my faith in the promise shakes, and 
 __ I, like murmuring Israel, ery, “ He gave bread, can he 
 _ give water also?” O unbelieving heart! when did 
 his promises fail? who ever trusted them and was 
 ashamed? May not God upbraid thee with thine unrea- 
 | sonable infidelity, as in Jer. 2: 31, “Have I been a 
 | wilderness unto you?” or as Christ said to his disci- 
 i ples, “Since I was with you, lacked ye any thing ?” 
 | Yea, may you not upbraid yourself ; may you not 
 | Say with good old Polycarp, “ These many years I 
 “have served Christ, and found him a good Master 2” 
 Indeed he may deny what your wantonness, but not 
 ) what your want calls for. He will not regard the cry 
 of your lusts, nor yet despise the ery of your faith : 
 ‘though he will not indulge your wanton appetites, yet 
 | he will not violate his own faithful promises. «These 
 ‘promises are your best security for eternal life; and 
 it is strange they should not satisfy you for daily 
 | bread. Remember the words of the Lord, and solace 
 ‘your heart with them amidst all your wants. It is said 
 ‘of Epicurus, that in dreadful paroxysms of the cholic 
 he often refreshed himself by calling to mind his in- 
 Ventions in philosophy; and of Possodonius the phi- 
 | losopher, that in an acute disorder he solaced himself 
 ‘with discourses on moral virtue ; and when distress- 
 ed, he would say, “ O pain, thou dost nothing ; though 
 thou art a little troublesome, I will never confess thee 
 
60 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 support themselves under such racking pains, and 
 even deluded their diseases by them; how much ra- 
 ther should the promises of God, and the sweet expe- 
 riences which have gone along step by step with them, 
 make you forget all your wants, and comfort you in 
 every difficulty 2 
 
 3. If it be bad now, it might have been worse. 
 Has God denied thee the comforts of this life? He 
 might have denied thee Christ, peace, and pardon also 5 
 and then thy case had been woful indeed. 
 
 You know God has done so to millions. How many 
 such wretched objects may your eyes behold every 
 day, that have no comfort in hand, nor yet in hope; 
 that are miserable here, and will be so to eternity; 
 that have a bitter cup, and nothing to sweeten it—no, 
 not so much as any hope that it will be better. But 
 it is not so with you: though you he poor in this 
 world, yet you are “rich in faith, and an heir of the 
 kingdom which God has promised.” Learn to set 
 spiritual riches over against temporal poverty. Ba- 
 lance all your present troubles with your spiritual 
 privileges. Indeed if God has denied your soul the 
 robe of righteousness to clothe it, the hidden manna to 
 feed it, the heavenly mansion to receive it, you might 
 well be pensive; but the consideration that he has not 
 may administer comfort under any outward distress. 
 When Luther began to be pressed by want, he said, 
 “ Let us be contented with our hard fare; for do not 
 we feast upon Christ, the bread of life?” “ Blessed be 
 God (said Paul) who hath abounded to us in all spiri- 
 tual blessings.” 
 
 4. Though this affliction be great, God has f 
 greater, with which he chastises the dearly beloved 
 his soul in this world. Should he remove this and 
 
 —_—e 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. 61 
 
 Inflict those, you would account your present state a 
 very comfortable one, and bless God to be as you now 
 are. Should God remove your pr2sent troubles, sup- 
 ply all your outward wants, give you the desire of 
 your heart in creature-comforts; but hide his face 
 from you, shoot his arrows into your soul, and cause 
 the venom of them to drink up your spirit: should 
 he leave you but a few days to the bufietings of Sa- 
 tan; should he hold your eyes but a few nights waking 
 with horrors of conscience, tossing to and fro till the 
 ‘dawning of the day :—should he lead you through the 
 chambers of death, show you the visions of darkness, 
 and make his terrors set themselves in array against 
 
 ‘you: then tell me if you would not think it a great 
 mercy to be back again in your former neeessitous 
 ‘condition, with peace of conscience; and account 
 bread and water, with God’s favor, a happy state? 
 O then take heed of repining. Say not that God 
 deals hardly with you, lest you provoke him to con- 
 ‘vince you by your own sense that he has worse rods 
 /than these for unsubmissive and froward children. 
 
 5. If it be bad now, it will be better shortly. Keep 
 ‘thy heart by this consideration, ‘ the meal in the bar- 
 ‘rel is almost spent; well, be it so, why should that 
 trouble me, if lam almost beyond the need and use of 
 ‘these things? The traveler has spent almost all his 
 ‘money ; ‘ well,’ says he, ‘ though my money be almost 
 spent, my journey is almost finished too: Jam near 
 ‘home, and shall soon be fully supplied.’ If there be 
 no candles in the house, it is a comfort to think that it 
 jis almost day, and then there will be no need of them. 
 |] am afraid, Christian, you misreckon when you think 
 |your provision is almost spent, and you have a great 
 | way to travel, many vears to live and nothing to live 
 | 6 K. the Heart 
 
 | 
 
, 4 
 
 62 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 upon ; it may be not half so many as you supp 
 In this be confident, if your provision be spent, eit 
 fresh supplies are coming, though you see not when e 
 or you are nearer your journey’s end than you reck- 
 on yourself to be. Desponding soul, does it be- 
 come a man traveling upon the road to that heaven 
 city, and almost arrived there, within a few days? 
 journey of his Father’s house, where all his wants 
 shall be supplied, to be so anxious about a little me 
 or drink, or clothes, which he fears he shall want 
 the way? It was nobly said by the forty mart 
 when turned out naked in a frosty night to be starv: 
 to death, “ The winter indeed is sharp and cold, b 
 heaven is warm and comfortable; here we dhived for 
 cold, but Abraham’s bosom will er ainends for all 
 ‘But,’ says the desponding soul, ‘I may die fo 
 want.’ Who ever did so?’ When were the righteous 
 forsaken ? If indeed it be so, your journey is “7 
 and you fully supplied. 
 ‘ But I am not sure of that ; were I sure of heave : 
 it would be another matter, Are you not sure 
 that ? then you have other matters to trouble seal 
 about than these ; methinks these should be the least 
 of all your cares. I do not find that souls perplexed 
 about the want of Christ, pardon of sin, &c. are usually 
 very solicitous about these things. Fie that seriously 
 puts such questions as these, ‘ What shall I do te 
 be saved? how shall I know my sin is pardoned? 
 does not trouble himself with, “ What shall I eat, what 
 shall I drink, or wherewithal shall I be clothed ” 
 6. Does it become the children of such a Father to 
 distrust his ail-sufficiency, or repine at any of his dit 
 pensations? Do you well to question his care and 
 love upon every new exigency ? Say, have you né 
 
 a a 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. 63 
 
 formerly been ashamed of this? Has not your Fa- 
 _ther’s seasonable provision for you in former difficul- 
 _ties put you to the blush, and made you resolve never 
 more to question his love and care? And yet will 
 you again renew your unworthy suspicions of him ? 
 Disingenuous child! reason thus with yourself: “If I 
 perish for want of what is good and needful for me, 
 it must be either because my Father knows not my 
 wants, or has not wherewith to supply them, or re 
 _gards not what becomes of me. Which of these shall 
 I charge upon him? Not the first: for my Father 
 knows what I have need of. Not the second: for the 
 earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof; his name 
 is God All-sufficient. Not the last: for as a Father 
 | pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear 
 him ; the Lord is exceeding pitiful and of tender mer- 
 cy; oe hears the young ravens when they cry:—and 
 will he not hear me? Consider, says Christ, the fowls 
 of the air; not the fowls at the door, that are fed every 
 day by hand, but the fowls of the air that have none to 
 provide for them. Does he feed and clothe his ene- 
 mies, and will he forget his children ? he heard even 
 the cry of Ishmael in distress. O my unbelieving 
 heart, dost thou yet doubt ?” 
 7. Your poverty is not your sin, but your affliction. 
 a you have not by sinful means brought it upon your- 
 self, and if it be but an affliction, it may the more easily 
 ‘be borne. It is hard indeed to bear an affliction eom- 
 ing upon us as the fruit and punishment of sin. 
 When men are under trouble upon that account; 
 jthey say, ‘O if it were but a single affliction, coming 
 from the hand of God by way of trial, I could bear it; 
 ‘but I have brought it upon myself by sin, it comes as 
 ithe punishment of sin; the marks of God’s displeasure 
 
64 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 are upon it: itis the guilt within that troubles and galls 
 more than the want without” But it is not so here; 
 therefore you have no reason to be cast down under it. 
 ‘But though there be no sting of guilt, yet this con- 
 dition wants not other stings; as, for instance, the di 
 credit of religion. I cannot comply with my enga 
 ments in the world, and thereby religion is likely to 
 suffer.’ It is well you have a heart to discharge ever 
 duty; yet if God disable you by providence, it is ni 
 discredit to your profession that you do not that whi 
 you cannot do, so long as it is your desire and ende: 
 vor to do what you can and ought to do; and in this 
 case God’s will is, that lenity and forbeararice be exer- 
 
 cised toward you. 
 ‘But it grieves me to behold the necessities of oh 
 whom I was wont to relieve and refresh, but now can 
 not.’ If you cannot, it ceases to be your duty, 7 
 God accepts the drawing out of your soul to the hu 
 gry in compassion and desire to help them, though yon 
 cannot draw forth a full purse to relieve and soppy 
 them. 
 
 ‘But I find such a condition full of temptations, a 
 great hinderance in the way to heaven.’ Every condi 
 tion in the world has its hinderances and attendi 
 temptations; and were you in a prosperous condition, 
 you might there meet with more temptations and 
 fewer advantages than you now have; for though 1 
 confess poverty as well as prosperity has its tempta- 
 tions, yet I am confident prosperity has not those ad- 
 vantages that poverty has. Here you have an oppor 
 tunity to discover the sincerity of your love to God, 
 when you can live upon him, find enough in him, a 
 constantly follow him, even when all external indu 
 iments and motives fail. 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. 65 
 
 . Thus I have shown you how to keep your heart 
 ‘from the temptations and dangers attending a low con- 
 ‘dition in the world. When want oppresses and the 
 heart begins to sink, then improve, and bless God for 
 these helps to keep it. 
 
 VI. The sixth season requiring this diligence in 
 
 keeping the heart, is the season of duty. Our hearts 
 must be closely watched and kept when we draw 
 nigh to God in public, private, or secret duties; for 
 the vanity of the heart seldom discovers itself more 
 than at such times. How often does the poor soul 
 ery out, ‘O Lord, how gladly would I serve thee, but 
 yain thoughts will not let me: I come to open my 
 heart to thee, to delight my soul in communion with 
 ‘thee, but my corruptions oppose me: Lord, call off 
 these vain thoughts, and suffer them not to prostitute 
 ‘the soul that is espoused to thee.’ 
 _ The question then is this; How may the heart be 
 kept from distractions by vain thoughts in time of du- 
 ty? There is a two-fold distraction, or wandering of 
 the heart in duty: First, voluntary and habitual, 
 i They set not their hearts aright, and their spirit 
 ‘was not steadfast with God.” This is the case of for- 
 ‘malists, and it proceeds from the want of a holy in- 
 ‘elination of the heart to God ; their hearts are under 
 the power of their lusts, and therefore it is no won- 
 der that they go after their lusts, even when they are 
 jabout holy things. Secondly, involuntary and Jament- 
 ‘ed distractions: “I find then a law, that when I would 
 do good, evil is present with me; O wretched man 
 ‘that Tam,” &c. This proceeds not from the want of 
 aholy inclination or aim, but from the weakness of 
 ‘grace and the want of vigilance in opposing in-dwell- 
 ‘ing sin. But it is not my business to show you how 
 6% 
 
66 ON KEEPING THE HEART 
 
 these distractions come into the heart. but rather how 
 to get them out, and prevent their future admission, 
 
 1. Sequester yourself from all earthiy employments, 
 and set apart some time for solemn preparation fo 
 meet God in duty. You cannot come directly from 
 the world into God’s presence without finding a savot 
 of the world in your duties. It is with the heart (@ 
 few minutes since plunged in the world, now in the 
 presence of God) as it is with the sea after a storm, 
 which still continues working, muddy and disquiet, 
 though the wind be laid and the storm be over. Your 
 heart must have some time to settle: Few musicians 
 can take an instrument and play upon it without some 
 time and labor to tune it; few Christians can say with 
 David, “My heart-is fixed, O God, it is fixed.” When 
 you go to God in any duty, take your heart aside and 
 say, ‘O my soul, I am now engaged in the greatest 
 work that a c:eature was ever employed about; I am 
 going into the awful presence of God upon business 
 of everlasting moment. O my soul, leave trifling now; 
 be composed, be watchful, be serious; this is no com 
 mon work, if is soul-work ; it is work for eternity ; it 
 is work which will bring forth fruit to life or death in 
 the world to come.’ Pause awhile and consider your 
 sins, your wants, your troubles; keep your thoughts 
 awhile on these before you address yourself to duty. 
 David first mused, and then spake with his tongue. 
 
 2. Having composed your heart by previous medita- 
 tion, immediately set a guard upon your senses. How 
 often are Christians in danger of losing the eyes of 
 their mind by those of their body! Against this Da- 
 vid prayed, “Turn away mine eyes from beholding 
 vanity, and quicken thou me in thy way.” This may 
 serve to expound the Arabian proverb: “Shut the 
 
ON KEEPING ‘THE HEART. TY] 
 
 ‘windows that the house may be light.” It were well 
 ‘if you could say in the commencement, as a holy man 
 once said when he came from the performance of du- 
 ty: “Be shut, O my eyes, be shut; for it is impossible 
 ‘that you should ever discern such beauty and glory 
 ‘in any creature as I have now seen in God.” You 
 ‘must avoid all occasions of distraction from without, 
 ‘and imibibe that intenseness of spirit in the work of 
 God which locks up the eye and ear against vanity. 
 
 3. Beg of Goda mortified fancy. A working fancy, 
 (saith one,) how much soever it be extolled among 
 ‘men, is a great snare to the soul, except it work in fel- 
 owship with right reason and a sanctified heart: The 
 fancy is a power of the soul, placed between the sens- 
 es and the understanding; it is that which first stirs 
 itself in the soul, and by its motions the other powers 
 ‘of the soul are brought into exercise; it is that in 
 which thoughts are first formed, and as that is, so are 
 they. If imaginations be not first cast down, it is im- 
 ‘possible that every thought of the heart should be 
 brought into obedience to Christ. The fancy is natu- 
 ‘rally the wildest and most untameable power of the 
 soul. Some Christians have much to do with it; and 
 ‘the more spiritual the heart is, the ‘more dees a wild 
 ‘and vain fancy disturb and perplex it. It is a sad 
 ‘thing that one’s imagination should call off the soul 
 from attending on God, when it is engaged in commu- 
 ‘tion with him. Pray ewnestly and perseveringly that 
 your fancy may be chastened and sanctified, and when 
 this is accomplished your thoughts will be regular and 
 fixed. 
 
 4. If you would keep yout heart from vain excur- 
 ‘sions when engaged in duties, realize to yourself, by 
 faith, the holy and awful presence of God. If the 
 
68 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 presence of a grave man would compose you to se 
 riousness, how much more should the presence of a 
 holy God? Do you think-that you would dare to be 
 gay and light if you realized the presence and inspee- 
 tion of the Divine Being? Remember where you are 
 when engaged in religious duty, and act as if you be 
 lieved in the omniscience of God. “All things are 
 naked and open to the eyes of Him with whom we 
 have to do.” Realize his infinite holiness, his purity, 
 his spirituality. ; 
 
 Strive to obtain such apprehensions of the greatness 
 of God as shall suitably affect your heart; and re 
 member his jealousy over his worship. “This is that 
 the Lord spake, saying, I will be sanctified in them 
 that come nigh me, and before all the people I will be 
 glorified.” “A man that is praying (says Bernard) 
 should behave himself as if he were entering into the 
 court of heaven, where he sees the Lord upon his 
 throne, surrounded with ten thousand of his angels 
 and saints ministering unto him.”—When you come 
 from an exercise in which your heart has been wan- 
 dering and listless, what can you say ? Suppose all the 
 vanities and impertinences which have passed through 
 your mind during a devotional exercise were written 
 down and interlined with your petitions, could you 
 have the face to present them to God? Should your 
 tongue utter all the thoughts of your heart when at- 
 tending the worship of God, would not men abhor yout 
 Yet your thoughts are perfectly known to God. O think 
 upon this scripture: “God is greatly to be feared in 
 the assemblies of his saints, and to be had in reverence 
 of all them that are round about him.” Why did the 
 Lord descend in thunderings and lightnings and dark 
 clouds upon Sinai? why did the mountains smoke un- 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART 69 
 
 jer him, the people quake and tremble round about 
 aim, Moses himself not excepted? but to teach the 
 aeople this great truth: “Let us have grace, whereby 
 e@ may serve Him acceptably, with reverence and 
 godly fear; for our God is a consuming fire.” Such 
 apprehensions of the character and presence of God 
 quickly reduce a heart inclined to vanity to a 
 more serious frame. 
 _ 5. Maintain a prayerful frame of heart in the inter- 
 vals of duty. What reason can be assigned why our 
 nearts are so dull, so careless, so wandering, when we 
 hear or pray, but that there have been long intermis- 
 sions in our communion with God? If that divine 
 unction, that spiritual fervor, and those holy impres- 
 sions, which we obtain from God while engaged in the 
 performance of one duty, were preserved to enliven 
 and engage us in the performance of another, they 
 would be of incalculable service to keep our hearts se- 
 rious and devout. For this purpose, frequent ejacula- 
 tions between stated and solemn duties are of most 
 excellent use: they not only preserve the mind in a 
 composed and pious frame, but they connect one sta- 
 ed duty, as it were, with another, and keep the atten- 
 ion of the soul alive to all its interests and obligations. 
 6. If you would have the distraction of your thoughts 
 prevented, endeavor to raise your affections to God, 
 land io engage them warmly in yourduty. When the 
 soul is intent upon any work, it gathers in its strength 
 ‘and bends all its thoughts to that work; and when it 
 s deeply affected, it will pursue its wbicee with intense- 
 ness, the affections will gain an ascendancy over the 
 oughts and guide them. But deadness causes dis- 
 aclion, and distraction increases deadness. Could 
 vou but regard your duties as the medium in which 
 
70 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 you might walk in communion with God in whie 
 your soul might be filled with those ravishing an 
 matchless delights which his presence affords, yo) 
 might have no inclination to neglect them. But if yo 
 would prevent the recurrence of distracting thoughts 
 if you would find your happiness in the performance 
 of duty, you must not only be careful that you engag, 
 in what is your duty, but labor with patient and perse 
 vering exertion to interest your feelings in it. Why 
 is your heart so inconstant, especially in secret duties 
 why are you ready to be gone, almost as soon as you 
 are come into the presence of God, but because you 
 affections are not engaged? . 
 
 7. When you are disturbed by vain thoughts, hum- 
 ble yourself before God, and call in assistance from 
 Heaven. When the messenger of Satan buffeted St. 
 Paul by wicked suggestions, (as is supposed ) he mourn- 
 ed before God on account of it. Never slight wander- 
 ing thoughts in duty as small matters; follow every 
 such thought with a deep regret. Turn to God with 
 such words as these: ‘ Lord, I came hither to commune 
 with thee, and here a busy adversary and a vain heart, 
 conspiring together, have opposed me. O my God! 
 what a heart have I! shall I never wait upon thee 
 without distraction? when shall I enjoy an hour of 
 free communion with thee ?. Grant me thy assistance at 
 this time ; discover thy glory to me, and my heart will 
 quickly be recovered. I came hither to enjoy thee, 
 and shall I go away without thee? Behold my dis- 
 tress, and help me!—Could you but sufficiently be- 
 wail your distractions, and repair to God for deliver- 
 ance from them, you would gain relief. 
 
 8. Look upon the success and the comfort of your 
 duties, as depending very much upon the keeping of 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. ras 
 
 _ your heart c.ose with God in them. These two things, 
 the success of duty and the inward comfort arising 
 _ from the performance of it, are unspeakably dear to 
 ‘the Christian; but both of these will be lost if the 
 | heart be in a listless state. “‘ Surely God heareth not 
 | vanity, nor doth the Almighty regard it.” The promise 
 is made to a heart engaged: “ Then shall ye seek for 
 me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all 
 _your hearts.” When you find your heart under the 
 _ power of deadness and distraction, say to yourself, ‘O 
 / what do I lose by a careless heart now! My praying 
 seasons are the most valuable portions of my life: 
 eould I but raise my heart to God, I might now ob- 
 /tain such mercies as would be matter of praise to ail 
 eternity.’ 
 | 9. Regard your carefulness or carelessness in this 
 ‘matter as a great evidence of your sincerity, or hypo- 
 ‘erisy. Nothing will alarm an upright heart more than 
 this. ‘ What! shall I give way toa customary wan- 
 ‘dering of the heart from God? Shall the spot of the 
 ‘hypocrite appear upon my soul ? Hypocrites, indeed, 
 ‘ean drudge on in the round of duty, never regarding 
 ithe frame of their hearts ; but shall I do so?) Never— 
 never let me be satisfied with empty duties. Never 
 let me take my leave of a duty until my eyes have 
 ‘seen the King, the Lord of Hosts.’ 
 
 10. It will be of special use to keep your heart with 
 ‘God in duty, to consider what influence all your duties 
 will have upon your eternity. Your religious seasons 
 are your seed times, and in another world you must 
 reap the fruits of what you sow in your duties here, 
 If you sow to the flesh, you will reap corruption ; if 
 ‘you sow to the Spirit, you will reap life everlasting. 
 \Answer seriously these questions: Are you willing to 
 
 ! 
 
i 
 
 72 - ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 reap the fruit of vanity in the world to come? Dare 
 you say, when your thoughts are roving to the ends 
 of the earth in duty, when you scarce mind what you 
 say or hear, ‘Now, Lord, I am sowing to the Spirit; 
 now I am providing and laying up for eternity; now 
 I am seeking for glory, honor and immortality ; now 
 I am striving to enter in at the strait gate; now Lai 
 taking the kingdom of heaven by hoiy vicleneal 
 Such reflections are well calculated to dissipate vain 
 thoughts. a 
 
 VII, The seventh season, which requires more than 
 common diligence to keep the heart, is when we re 
 ceive injuries and abuses from men. Such is the de- 
 pravity and corruption of man, that one is become as 
 a wolf or a tiger to another. And as men are natt- 
 rally cruel and oppressive one to another, so the wick 
 ed conspire to abuse and wrong the people of God. 
 “The wicked devoureth the man that is more right 
 eous than he.” Now when we are thus abused and 
 wronged, it is hard to keep the heart from revengeful 
 motions; to make it meekly and quietly commit 
 the eause to’ Him that judgeth righteously ; to prevent 
 the exercise of any sinful affection. The spirit that 
 is in us lusteth to revenge; but it must not be so. We 
 have choice helps in the Gospel to keep our hearts 
 from sinful motions against our enemies, and to 
 sweeten our embittered spirits. Do you ask how a 
 Christian may keep his heart from revengeful motions 
 under the greatest injuries and abuses from men? I 
 reply: When you find your heart begin to be inflamed 
 by revengeful feelings, immediately reflect on the fais 
 . lowing things : 
 
 1. Urge upon your heart the severe prohibitions of 
 revenge contained in the law of God. However gra- 
 
a | 
 |. 
 
 ON KEBPING THE HART. 73 
 
 tifying to your corrupt propensities revenge may be, 
 remember that it is forbidden. Hear the word of God: 
 Say not, I will recompense evil.” Say not, I will do 
 soto him as he hath done to me. ‘“ Recompense to 
 a man evil for evil. Avenge nc* yourselves, but 
 give place unto wrath ; for it ‘= written, Vengendeei is 
 mine, I will repay, ath 1e Lord.” On the contrary, 
 “Tf thine enemy huvger, feed him; if he thirst, give 
 him drink.” It was an argument urged by the 
 Christians to prove their religion to be supernatural 
 and pure, that it forbids revenge, which is so agreeable 
 to nature; and it is to be wished that such an argument 
 might not be laid aside. Awe your heart, then, with 
 the authority of God in the Scriptures; and when 
 carnal reason says, ‘My enemy deserves to be hated,’ 
 let conscience reply, ‘ But doth God deserve to be dis- 
 obeyed? ‘Thus and thus hath he done, and so hath 
 hewronged me; ‘But what hath God done that 1 
 should wrong him? If my enemy dares boldly to 
 break the peace. shall I be so wicked as to break the 
 precept ? if he fears not to wrong me, shall not I fear 
 to wrong God”? ‘Thus let the fear cf God restrain and 
 calm your feelings. 
 
 2. Set before your eyes the most eminent patterns 
 of meekness and forgiveness, that you may feel the 
 force of their example. This is the way to cut off the 
 common pleas of flesh and blood for revenge: as thus, 
 “Noman would bear such an affront ;’ yes, others have 
 borne as bad, and worse ones. ‘ But I shall be reckon- 
 ed a coward, a fool, if I pass by this:’ no maiter, so 
 long as you follow the examples of the wisest and ho- 
 liest of men. Never did any one sufier more or great- 
 er abuses from men than Jesus did, nor did any one 
 
 ever endure insult and reproach ae every kind of 
 7 I the Heart 
 
 ’ 
 
ili 
 
 74 ON KEEPING THE HEART.. 
 
 abuse in a more peaceful and forgiving manner ; when 
 he was reviled he reviled not again ; when he sufferes 
 he threatened not; when his murderers crucified hi 
 he prayed Father, forgive them; and herein he hath 
 us an example, that we should follow his steps. Thus 
 his apostles imitated him: “Being reviled,” say they 
 “we bless; being persecuted, we suffer it; being de- 
 famed, we entreat.” Ihave often heard it reported ¢ 
 the holy Mr. Dod, that when a man, enraged at his 
 close, convincing doctrine, assaulted him, smote him 
 on the face, and dashed out two of his teeth ; that 
 meek servant of Christ spit out the teeth and blood 
 into his hand, and said, “See here, you have knocked 
 out two of my teeth, and that without any just pre 
 vocation; but on condition that I might do your soul 
 good, I would give you leave to knock out all the 
 rest.” Here was exemplified the excellency of the 
 Christian spirit. Strive then for this spirit, which con- 
 stitutes the true excellence of Christians. Do what 
 others cannot do, keep this spirit in exercise, and you 
 will preserve peace in yourown soul and gain the vic- 
 tory over your enemies. at 
 2. Consider the character of the person who has” 
 wronged you. He is eithera good ora wicked man. Ifhe 
 is a good man, there is light and tenderness in his con-- 
 science, which sooner or later will bring him to a sense 
 of the evil of what he has done. Ifheisa good man, 
 Christ has forgiven him greater injuries than he has” 
 cone to you; and why should not you forgive him? 
 Will Christ not upbraid him for any of his wrongs, 
 but frankly forgive them ail; and will you take him by 
 the throat for some petty abuse which he has offered 
 you? eV 
 2. But if a wicked man has injured or insulted you, » 
 
 ~ 
 
ON KEEPING THE BEART. 75 
 
 truly you have more reason to exercise pity than re- 
 venge toward him. He is in a deluded and miserable 
 | state ; a slave to sin and an enemy to righteousness. It 
 he should ever repent, he will be ready to make you 
 reparation; if he continues impenitent, there is a day 
 coming when he will be punished to the extent of his 
 deserts. You need not study revenge, God will exe- 
 eute vengeance upon him. 
 
 4, Remember that by revenge you can only gratify 
 a sinful passion, which by forgiveness you might con - 
 quer. Suppose that by revenge you might destroy one 
 enemy ; yet, by exercising the Christian’s temper you 
 might conquer three—your own lust, Satan’s tempta- 
 tion, and your enemy’s heart. If by revenge you should 
 overcome your enemy, the victory would be unhappy 
 and inglorious, for in gaining it you would be over- 
 come by your own corruption; but by exercising a 
 /meek and forgiving temper, you will always come off 
 with honor and success.It must bea very disingenuous 
 nature indeed upon which meekness and forgiveness 
 will not operate; that must be a flinty heart which 
 this fire will not melt. Thus David gained such a vie- 
 tory over Saul his persecutor, that “ Saul lifted up his 
 voice and wept, and he said to David, Thou art more 
 righteous than I.” 
 
 5. Seriously propose this question to your own 
 heart: ‘Have [ got any good by means of the wrongs 
 and injuries which I have received? If they have done 
 you no good, turn your revenge upon yourself. You 
 have reason to be filled with shame and sorrow that 
 you should have a heart which can deduce no good 
 ‘from such troubles; that your temper should be so 
 unlike that of Christ. The patience and meekness of 
 ether Christians have turned all the injuries offered to 
 
76 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 them to a good account; their souls have been an 
 mated to praise God when they have been loaded with 
 reproaches from the world. “TI thank my God.” said 
 Jerome, “that Iam worthy to be hated of the world. 
 But if you have derived any benefit from the re- 
 proaches and wrongs which you have received, if they 
 have put you upon examining your own heart, if they 
 have made you more careful how you conduct, if they 
 have convinced. you of the value of a sanctified tem- 
 per; will you not forgive them ? will you not forgive 
 one who has been instrumental of so much good ta 
 you? What though he meant it for evil ? if through 
 the Divine blessing your happiness has been promoted 
 by what he has done, why should you even have a 
 hard thought of him ? 
 
 6. Consider by whom all your troubles are ordered. 
 This will be of great use to keep your heart from re- 
 venge; this will quickly calm and sweeten your tem- 
 per. When Shimei railed at David and cursed him, 
 the spirit of that good man was not at all poisoned by 
 revenge ; for when Abishai offered him, if he pleased, the 
 head of Shimei, the king said, “Let him curse, be- 
 cause the Lord hath said unto him, Curse David: who 
 shall then say, Wherefore hast thou done so?” It may 
 be that God uses him as his rod to chastise me, because 
 by my sin I gave the enemies of God occasion to 
 blaspheme ; and shall I be angry with the instrument ? 
 hew irrational were that! Thus Job was quieted ; he 
 did not rail and meditate revenge upon the Chaldeans 
 and Sabeans, but regarded God as the orderer of his 
 troubles, and said, “The Lord hath taken away, bless- 
 ' ed be his name.” 
 
 7. Consider how you are daily and hourly wrong- 
 ing Ged, and you will not be so easily inflamed with 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. 77 
 
 revenge against those who have wronged you. You 
 are constantly affronting God, yet he does not take 
 ‘vengeance on you, but bears with you and forgives; 
 and will you rise up and avenge yourself upon others ? 
 Reflect on this cutting rebuke: “O thou wicked and 
 slothful servant! I forgave thee all that debt because 
 thou desiredst me; shouldst thou not also have com- 
 passion on thy fellow-servant, even as I had pity on 
 thee?” None should be so filled with forbearance and 
 mercy to such as wrong them, as those who have ex- 
 perienced the riches of mercy themselves. The mer- 
 cy of God to us should melt our hearts into merey 
 ‘toward others. It is impossible that we sheuld be 
 cruel to others, except we forget how kind and com- 
 passionate God hath been to us. And if kindness can- 
 not prevail in us, methinks fear should:—“If ye for- 
 give not men their trespasses, neither will your Father 
 forgive your trespasses.” 
 
 8. Let the consideration that the day of the Lord 
 draweth nigh, restrain you from anticipating it by acts 
 of revenge. Why are you so hasty ? is not the Lord 
 at hand to avenge all his abused servants? ‘“ Be pa- 
 tient therefore, brethren, unto the coming of the Lord. 
 Behold the husbandman waiteth, &c. Be ye also pa- 
 tient, for the coming of the Lord draweth nigh. 
 Grudge not one against another, brethren, lest ye be 
 condemned. Behold, the Judge standeth at the door.” 
 Vengeance belongeth unto God, and will you wrong 
 yourself so much as to assume his work ? 
 
 VIII. The next season in which special exertion is 
 necessary to keep the heart, is when we meet with 
 great trials. In such cases the heart is apt to be sud- 
 | denly transported with pride, impatience, or other sin- 
 
 ful passions. Many good people are guilty of hasty 
 7 
 
738 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 and very sinful conduct in such instances; and all 
 have need to use diligently the following means to 
 xeep their hearts submissive and patient under great 
 trials. y 4 
 
 1. Get humble and abasing thoughts of yourself, 
 The humble is ever the patient man. Pride is the 
 source of irregular and sinful passions. A lofty, will 
 be an unyielding and peevish spirit. When we over- 
 rate ourselves, we think that we are treated unworthi- 
 ly, that our trials are too severe: thus we cavil and 
 repine. Christian, you should have such thoughts of 
 yourself as would put a stop to these murmurings: 
 You should have lower and more humiliating views of 
 yourse!f than any other one can have of you. Get hu- 
 mility, and you will have peace whatever be your trial. 
 
 2. Cultivate a habit of communion with God. This 
 will prepare you for whatever may take place. This 
 will so sweeten your temper and calm your mind as to 
 secure you against surprisals. This will produce that 
 inward peace which will make you superior to your 
 trials. Habitual communion with God will afford you 
 enjoyment, which you can never be willing to inter- 
 rupt by sinful feeling. When a Christian is calm and 
 submissive under his afflictions, probably he derives 
 support and comfort in this way ; but he who is dis- 
 composed, impatient, or fretful, shows that all is not 
 right within—he cannot be supposed to practise com- 
 munion with God. : 
 
 3. Let your mind be deeply impressed with an ap 
 prehension of the evil nature and effects of an unsub- 
 missive and restless temper. It grieves the Spirit of 
 God, and induces his departure. His gracious pre- 
 sence and influence are enjoyed only where peace 
 end quiet submission prevail. The indulgence of such 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. 7 
 
 a temper gives the adversary an advantage. Satan is 
 an angry and discontented spirit. He finds no rest 
 but -in restless hearts. He bestirs himself when the 
 spirits are in commotion ; sometimes he fills the heart 
 with ungrateful. and rebellious thoughts ; sometimes 
 he inflames the tongue with indecent language. Again, 
 such a temper brings great guilt upon the conscience, 
 unfits the soul for any duty, and dishonors the Chris- 
 tian name. O keep your heart, and let the power and 
 excellence of your religion be chiefly manifested when 
 you are brought into the greatest straits. 
 
 4. Consider how desirable it is for a Christian to 
 overcome his evil propensities. How much more pre- 
 sent happiness it affords; how much better it is in 
 every respect to mortify and subdue unholy feelings, 
 than to give way to them. When upon your death- 
 bed you come calmly to review your life, how com- 
 fortable will it be to reflect on the conquest which you 
 have made over the depraved feelings of your heart. 
 It was a memorable saying of Valantinian the em- 
 peror, when he was about to die: “ Amongst all my 
 conquests, there is but one that now comforts me.” 
 Being asked what that was, he answered, “I have 
 overcome my worst enemy, my own sinful heart ” 
 
 5. Shame yourself, by contemplating the character 
 of those who have been most eminent for meekness 
 and submission. Above all, compare your temper with 
 the Spirit of Christ. “ Learn of me,” saith he, “ for I 
 am meek and lowly.” It is said of Calvin and Ursin, 
 though both of choleric natures, that they had so im- 
 bibed and ‘cultivated the meekness of Christ as not to 
 utter an unbecoming word under the greatest provoca- 
 tions. And even many of the heathens have manifest- 
 ed great moderation and forbearance under their se- 
 
89 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 verest afflictions. Is it not ashame and a reproach —_ 
 you should be outdone 'by them ? 
 
 6. Avoid every thing which is calculated to irritate 
 your feelings. It is true spiritual valor to keep as far 
 as we can out of sin’s way. If you can but avoid the 
 excitements to impetuous and rebellious feelings, o1 
 check them in their first beginnings, you will have hut. 
 little to fear. The first workings of common sins are 
 comparatively weak, they gain their strength by, de- 
 grees; but in times of trial the motions of sin are j 
 strongest at first, the unsubdued temper breaks out 
 suddenly and wilentlyt But if you resolutely with- 
 stand it at first, it will yield and give you the victory. 
 
 IX..The ninth season wherein the greatest diligence 
 and skill are necessary to keep the heart, is the hour 
 of temptation, when Satan besets.the Christian’s heart, 
 and takes the unwary by surprise. To keep the heart 
 at such times, is not less a mercy thana duty. Few 
 Christians are so skillful in detecting the fallacies, and 
 repelling the arguments by which the adversary in- 
 cites them to sin, as to come off safe and whole in 
 those encounters. Many eminent saints have smarted 
 severely for their want of watchfulness and diligence 
 at such times. How then may a Christian keep his 
 heart from yielding to temptation ? There are several 
 principal ways in which the adversary insinuates 
 temptation, and urges compliance. 
 
 1. Satan suggests that here is pleasure to be enjoyed ; 
 the temptation is presented with a smiling aspect and 
 an enticing voice: ‘What, are you so dull and phleg- 
 raatic as not to feel the powerful charms of pleasure ? 
 Who can withhold himself from such delights? 
 Reader, you may be rescued from the danger of such 
 temptations by repelling the proposal of pleasure. It 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. 8h 
 
 is urged that the commission of sin will afford you 
 pleasure. Suppose this were true, will the accusing 
 _ and condemning rebukes of conscience and the flames 
 of hell be pleasant too? Is there pleasure in the 
 _ scourges of conscience? If so, why did Peter weep so 
 _ bitterly ? why did David ery out of broken bones? 
 _ Yuu hear what is said of the pleasure of sin, and have 
 you not read what David said of the effects of it ? 
 “Thine arrows stick fast in me, and thy hand 
  presseth me sore; there is no soundness in my 
 flesh because of thine anger, neither is there any rest 
 in my bones because of my sin,” &c. If you yield to 
 temptation, you must feel such inward distress on ac- 
 count of it, or the miseries of hell. But why should 
 tlre pretended pleasure of sin allure you, when you 
 know that unspeakably more real pleasure will arise 
 from the mortification than can arise from the com- 
 “mission of sin. Will you prefer the gratification of 
 some unhallowed passion, with the deadly poison 
 which it will leave behind, to that sacred pleasure 
 which arises from fearing and obeying God, comply- 
 ing with the dictates of conscience, and maintaining 
 inward peace ? Can sin afford any such delight as he 
 feels who, by resisting temptation, has manifested the 
 sincerity of his heart, and obtained evidence that he 
 | fears God, loves holiness, and hates sin? 
 2, The secrecy with which you may commit, sin 1s 
 | made use of to induce compliance with temptation. 
 ‘The tempter insinuates that this indulgence will 
 never disgrace you among men, for no one will know 
 it. But recollect yourself. Does not God behold you ? 
 | 1s not the divine presence every where ? What if you 
 might hide your sin from the eyes of the world, you 
 “cannot hide it from God. No darkness nor shadow 
 
 i 
 
82 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 of death can screen you from his inspection. Besid 
 have you no reverence for yourself? Can you do th 
 by yourseif which you dare not have others observe? 
 Is not your conscience as a thousand witnesses? 
 Even a heathen could say, “ When thou art tempted 
 to commit sin, fear thyself without any other witness.” 
 3. The prospect of worldly advantage often enforces 
 
 temptation. Itis suggested, ‘Why should you be so 
 nice and scrupulous? Give yourself a little liberty, 
 and you may better your condition: now is yout 
 time.’ This is a dangerous temptation, and mu 
 - be promptly resisted. Yielding to such a temptation 
 will do your soul more injury than any temporal ac 
 quisition can possibly do you good. And what would 
 it profit you, if you should gain the whole world and 
 lose your own soul ? What can be compared with the 
 value of your spiritual interests? or what can at all 
 i for the smallest injury ef them 2 
 
 4. Perhaps the smallness of the sin is urged asa 
 reason why you may commit it; thus: ‘It is buta 
 little one, a small matter, a trifle; who would stand 
 upon such niceties? But is the Majesty of heaven 
 little too? If you commit this sin yow will offend a 
 great God. Is there any little hell to torment tittle 
 sinners in? No; the least sinners in hell are full of 
 misery. There is great wrath treasured up for those 
 whom the world regard as Jittle sinners. But the less 
 the sin, the less the inducement to commit it. Will 
 you provoke God for a trifle ? will you destroy your 
 peace, wound your conscience, and grieve the Spirit, 
 58 for nothing ? What madness is this! 
 
 . An argument to enforce temptation is sometimes. 
 amen from the mercy of God and the hope of pare 
 don —God is merciful, he will pass by this as an in- 
 
ON KEEPING THE BEART. 83. 
 
 “frmity, he will not be severe to mark it. But stay: 
 / where do you find a promise of mercy to presumptu- 
 }ous sinners ? Involuntary reprisals and lamented in- 
 | firmities may be pardoned, “but the soul that doth 
 taught presumptuously, the same reproacheth the. 
 _ Lord, and that soul shali be cut off from among his 
 | peopie.” If God isa being of so much mercy, how 
 } ean you affront him? How can you make so glorious 
 an attribute as the divine mercy an occasion of sin ? 
 | Will you wrong “him because he is good? Rather let 
 his goodness lead you to repentance, and keep you 
 from transgression. 
 
 + 6. Sometimes Satan encourages to the commission 
 ' of sin, from the examples of holy men. Thus and thus 
 ) they sinned, and were restored; therefore you may 
 ‘commit this sin, and yet be a saint and be saved. 
 | Such suggestions must be instantly repelled. If good 
 men have committed sins similar to that with which 
 / you are beset, did any good man ever sin upon such 
 | ground aud from such encouragement as is here pre- 
 sented ? Did God cause their examples to be recorded 
 for your imitation, or for your warning? . Are they not 
 }set up as beacons that you may avoid the rocks upon 
 ‘which they split? Are you willing-to feel what they 
 ‘felt for sin? Dare you follow them in sin, and plunge 
 | yourself into such distress and danger as they ineur- 
 red ?——Reader, in these ways learn to keep your 
 heart in the hour of temptation. 
 
 __X. The time of doubting and of spiritual darkness 
 constitutés another season when it is very difficult to 
 ‘keep the heart. When the light and comfort of the 
 ‘divine presence is withdrawn; when dhe believer, 
 froin the prevalence of indwelling sin in one form or 
 other, is ready to renounce his hopes, to infer despe- 
 
 A 
 
84 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 Tate conclusions with respect to himself, to regard 
 his former comforts as vain delusions, and his profes~ 
 sions as hypocrisy; at such a time much diligence is 
 necessary to keep the heart from despondency. The 
 Christian’s distress arises from his apprehension of his 
 spiritual state, and in general he argues against his 
 possessing true religion, either from his having re- 
 lapsed into the same sins from which he had former- 
 ly been recovered with shame and sorrow; or from 
 the sensible declining of his affections from God; or 
 from the strength of his affections toward creature en+ 
 joyments; or from his enlargement in public, while 
 he is often confined and barren in private duties ; or 
 from some horrible suggestions of Satan, with which 
 his soul is greatly perplexed; or, lastly, from God’s 
 silence and seeming denial of his long depending 
 prayers. Now in order to the establishment and sup- 
 port of the heart under these circumstances, it is ne- 
 cessary that you be acquainted with some general 
 truths which have a tendency to calm the trembling 
 and doubting soul; and that you be rightly instrueted 
 with regard to the above-mentioned causes of disquiet. 
 Let me direct. your attention to the following general 
 truths. 
 
 1. Every appearance of hypocrisy does not prove 
 the person who manifesis it to be a hypocrite. You 
 should carefuily distinguish between the appearance 
 and the predominance of hypocrisy. There are re- 
 mains of deceitfulness in the best hearts; this was ex- 
 emplified in David and Peter; but the prevailing 
 frame of their hearts being upright, they were not de- 
 nominated hypocrites for their conduct. 
 
 2. We ought to regerd what canbe said in our favor, 
 as well as what may be said against us. It is the sin 
 
ON KEDPING THE HEART. 83 
 
 of upright persons sometimes, to exercise an unreason- 
 ‘able severity against themselves. They do not im- 
 partially consider the state of their souls. To make 
 ‘their state appear better than it really is, indeed is the 
 ‘damning sin of self-flattering hypocrites ; and to make 
 their state appear worse than it really is, is the sin and 
 ‘folly of some good persons. But why should you be 
 suchan enemy to your own peace ? Why read over the 
 evidences of God’s love to your soul, as a man does a 
 ‘book which he intends to confute? Why do you 
 study evasions, and turn off those comforts which are 
 due to you? 
 _ 3. Every thing which may be an occasion of grief 
 to the people of God, is not a sufficient ground for their 
 “questioning the reality of their religion. Many things 
 “may trouble, which ought not to stumble you. If up- 
 on every occasion you should call in question all that 
 
 had ever been wrought upon you, your life would be 
 made up of doubtings and fears, and you could never 
 attain that settled inward peace, and live that life of 
 praise and thankfulness which the Gospel requires. 
 _ 4, The soul is not at all times in a suitable state to 
 | pass a right judgment upon itself. Itis peculiarly un- 
 | qualified for this in the hour of desertion or tempta- 
 tion. Such seasons must be improved rather for 
 | watching and resisting, than for judging and deter- 
 | mining. ' 
 _ 5, Whatever be the ground of one’s distress, it 
 | should drive him to, not from God. Suppose you 
 - have sinned thus and so, or that you have been thus 
 long and sadly deserted, yet you have no right to in- 
 fer that you ought to be discouraged, as if there was 
 no help for you in God. 
 
 When you have well digested these truths, if your 
 8 K. the Heart. 
 
86 ON KELPING THE HEART. 
 
 doubts and distress remain, consider what is now tob 
 offered. ; — 
 
 1. Are you ready to conclude that you have no par 
 in the favor of God, because you are visited with som 
 extraordinary affliction? If so, do you then right}: 
 conclude that great trials are tokens of God’s hatred’ 
 Does the Scripture teach this? And dare you infe 
 the same with respect to all‘who have been as muel 
 or more afflicted than yourself? If the argument i; 
 good in your ease, it is good in application to theirs 
 and more conclusive with respect to them, in propor. 
 tion as their trials were greater than yours. Wo then 
 to David, Job, Paul, and all who have been afflicted 
 as they were! But had you passed along in quietness 
 and prosperity; had God withheld those chastise 
 ments with which he ordinarily visits his people, 
 would you not have had far more reason for doubts 
 and distressthan you now have? i 
 
 2. Do you rashly infer that the Lord has no love to 
 you, because he has withdrawn the light of his coun- 
 tenance? Do you imagine your state to be hopeless, 
 because it is dark and uncomfortable? Be not hasty 
 in forming this conclusion. If any of the dispensa- 
 tions of God to his people will bear a favorable as 
 well as a harsh construction, why should they not be 
 construed in the best sense? And may not God have 
 a design of love rather than of hatred in the dispensa- 
 tion under which you mourn? May he not depart for 
 a season, without departing for ever? You are not 
 the first that have mistaken the design of God in with- 
 drawing himself. “Zion said, the Lord hath forsaken 
 me, my Lord hath forgotten me.” But was it so? 
 What saith the answer of God? “Can a woman for- 
 get hersucking child 2?” &e, 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. 87 
 
 But do you sink down under the apprehension that 
 the evidences of a total and final desertion are disco- 
 
 | verable in your experience ? Have you then lost your 
 
 conscientious tenderness with regard to sin? and are 
 you inclined to forsake God 2 Ifso, you have reason 
 
 indeed to be alarmed. But if your conscience is ten- 
 
 derly alive; if you are resolved to cleave to the Lord; 
 if the language of your heart is, I cannot forsake God, 
 I cannot live without his presence; though he slay 
 me, yet will I trust in him: then you have reason to 
 hope that he will visit you again. It is by these ex- 
 ercises that he still maintains his interest in you. 
 Once more. Are sense and feelings suitable to 
 sudge of the dispensations of Godby? Can their tes- 
 timony be safely relied on? Is it safe to argue thus: 
 ‘If God had any love for my soul, I should feel it 
 now as well as in former times; but I cannot feel it, 
 
 ‘therefore it is gone ?” May you not as well conclude, 
 
 when the sun is invisible to you, that he has ceased to 
 
 ! exist 2 Read Isaiah 1: 10. 
 
 Now if there is nothing in the divine dealings with 
 
 you which is a reasonable ground of your despon- 
 ' dency and distress, let us inquire what there is in 
 _ your own conduct for which you should be so cast 
 
 | down. 
 
 1. Have you committed sins from which you were 
 
 | formerly recovered with shame and sorrow ? And do 
 _ you thence conclude that you sin allowedly and ha- 
 -bitually, and that your oppositions to sin were hypo- 
 
 critical 2 But do not too hastily give up all for lost. 
 
 | Is not your repentance and care renewed as often as 
 
 you commit sin? Is it not the sin itself which trou- 
 
 bles you, and is it not true, that the oftener you sin 
 | the more you are distressed ? It is not so in customa- 
 
88 ON KEEPING THE HEART. » 
 
 ry sinning; of which Bernard excellently discourses 1 
 thus: “ When a man accustomed to restrain, sins” 
 grievously, it seems insupportable to him, yea he seems 
 to descend alive into hell. In process of time it seems 
 not insupportable, but heavy, and between insupport- 
 able and heavy there is no small descent. Next, such 
 sinning becomes light, his conscience smites but faint- 
 ly, and he regards not her rebukes. Then he is not 
 only insensible to his guilt, but that which was bitter 
 and displeasing has become in some degree sweet and 
 pleasant. Now it is made a custom, and not only 
 pleases, but pleases habitually. At length custom be- 
 comes nature; he cannot be dissuaded from it, but 
 defends and pleads for it.’ This is allowed and cus- 
 tomary sinning, this is the way of the wicked. But is 
 not your way the contrary of this? 
 
 2. Do you apprehend a decline of your affections — 
 from God and from spiritual subjects? This may be 
 your case, and vet there may be hope. But possibly 
 you are mistaken with regard to this. There are 
 many things to be learnt in Christian experience; it 
 has relation to a great variety of subjects. You may 
 now be learning what it is very necessary for you 
 to know as aChristian. Now, what if you are not sen- 
 sible of so lively affections, of such ravishing views as 
 you had at first; may not your piety be growing 
 more solid and consistent, and better adapted to prac- 
 tical purposes? Does it follow from your not always 
 being in the same frame of mind, or from the fact that 
 the same objects do not at all times excite the same 
 feelings, that you have no true religion? Perhaps 
 you deesive yourself by looking forward to what you 
 would be, rather than contemplating what you are, 
 compared with what you once were. 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. 89 
 
 ~ °3. If the strength of your love to creature enjoy- 
 ments is the ground of desperate conclusions respect- 
 ing yourself, perhaps you argue thus: “I fear that I 
 love the creature more than God, if so, I have not true 
 love to God. {sometimes feel stronger affections to- 
 ward earthly comforts. than I do toward heavenly ob- 
 jects, therefore my soul is not upright within me.” 
 If, indeed, you love the creature for itself, if you make 
 it your end, and religion but a means, then you con- 
 clude rightiy; for this is incompatible with supreme 
 love to God. But may not a man love God more ar- 
 dently and unchangeably than he does any thing, or 
 all things else, and yet, when God is not the direct ob- 
 ject of his thoughts, may he noi be sensible of more 
 violent affection for the creature than he has at that time 
 for God? As rooted malice indicates a stronger hatred 
 than sudden though more violent passion ; so we must 
 judge of our love, not by a violent motion of it now 
 and then, bet by the depth of its root and the con- 
 stancy of its exercise. Perhaps your difficulty results 
 from bringing your love to some foreign and improper 
 test. Many persons have feared that when brought to 
 some eminent trial they should renounce Christ and 
 cleave to the creature ; but when the trial came, Christ 
 was every thing, and the world as nothing in their es- 
 teem. Such were the fears of some martyrs whose 
 victory was complete. But you may expect divine as- 
 sistance only at the time of, and in proportion to your 
 necessity. If you would try your iove, see whether 
 you are willing to forsake Christ now. 
 
 -4. Is the want of that enlargement in private which 
 you find in public exercises an occasion of doubts and. 
 fears? Consider then whether there are not some cir- 
 cumstances attending public duties which are pecu- 
 
 §* 
 
8) ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 liarly caleulated to excite your feelings and elevate ~ 
 your mind, and which cannot affect you in private. — 
 if so, your exercises in secret, if performed faithfully 
 and ii a suitable manner, may be profitable, though 
 they have not all the characteristics of those in public. 
 If you imagine that you have spiritual enlargement 
 and enjoyment in public exercises while you neglect 
 private duties, doubtless you deceive yourself. Indeed — 
 af you live in the neglect of secret duties, or are care~— 
 less about them, you have great reason to fear. Dutif 
 you regularly and faithfully perform them, it does not — 
 follow that they are vain and worthless, or that they 
 are not of great value, because they are not attende: 
 with so much enlargement as you ‘sometimes find in 
 public. And what if the Spirit is pleased more highly 
 to favor you with his gracious influence in one place ~ 
 and at one time than another, should this be a redson — 
 for murmuring and unbelief, or for thankfulness ? 
 
 5. The vile | or blasphemous suggestions of Satan 
 sometimes occasion great perplexity and distress _ 
 They seem to lay open an abyss of corruption in the 
 heart, and to say there can be no grace here. But there 
 may be grace in the heart where such thoughts are. 
 injected, though not in the heart which consents to — 
 and cherishes them. Do you then abhor and oppose 
 them? do you utterly refuse to prostitute yourself to 
 their influence, and strive to keep holy and reverend 
 thoughts of God, and of all religious objects? If so, 
 such suggestions are involuntary, and no evidence 
 against your piety. 
 
 6. Is the seeming denial of your prayers an occasion 
 of despondency? Are you disposed to say, “If God 
 had any regard for my soul he would have heard my 
 petitions before now; but I have no answer from him, 
 
 hw a 
 
ON KEEPING THE BEART. gi 
 
 and therefore no interest in him?” But stay: theugh 
 God’s abhorring and finally rejecting prayer is an evi- 
 dence that he rejects the person who prays, yet, dare 
 you conclude that he has rejected you, because an an- 
 swer to your prayers is celayed, or because you do 
 not discover it if granted? “ May not God bear long 
 with his own elect, that cry unto him day and night?” 
 
 Others ];ave stumbled upon the same ground with 
 you: “Isaid in my haste, Iam cut off from before 
 thine eyes: nevertheless thou heardst the voice of my 
 supplication.” sow are there net some things in your 
 experience which indicate that your prayers are not 
 rejected, though answer to- them is deferred? Are you 
 not disposed to continue praying though you do not 
 discover an answer? Are you not disposed still to as- 
 eribe righteousness to God, while you consider the 
 cause of his silence as being in yourself? Thus did 
 David: “O my God, I cry in the day time, and thou 
 hearest not; and in the night, and am not silent: but 
 thou art holy,” &e. Does not the delay of an answer 
 to your prayers excite you to examine your own heart 
 and try your ways, that you may find and remove the 
 difficulty? Ifso, you may have reason for humiliation, 
 but not for despair. 
 
 Thus I have shown you how: to keep your heart in 
 dark and doubting seasons. God forbid that any false 
 heart should encourage itself from these things. It is 
 lamentable, that when we give saints and sinners their 
 proper portions, each is so prone to take up the other’s 
 part. 
 
 XI. Another season, wherein the heart must be kept 
 with all diligence, is when sufferings for religion are 
 laid upon us. Blessed is the man who in such a sea- 
 son is not offended in Christ. Now, whatever may be 
 
92 ON KEEPING THE HEART, 
 
 the kind or degree of your sufferings, if they are suf- 
 
 ferings for Christ’s sake and the Gospel’s, spare no dili- 
 gence to keep your heart. If you are tempted to shrink 
 or waver under them, let what follows help you to re- 
 pel and to surmount the instigation. 
 
 1. What reproach would you cast upon the Re- 
 deemer and his religion by deserting him at sucha 
 time as this! You would proclaim to the world, that 
 how much soever you have boasted of the promises, 
 when you are put to the proof you dare hazard no- 
 thing upen your faith in them; and this will give the 
 enemies of Christ an occasion te blaspheme. And will 
 you thus furnish the triumphs of the uncircumcised 2? 
 Ah, if you did but value the name of Christ as much 
 
 as many wicked men value their names, you could. 
 never endure that his should be exposed to contempt. . 
 
 Will proud dust and ashes hazard death or hell rather 
 than have their names disgraced, and will you endure 
 nothing to maintain the honor of Christ? 
 
 2. Dare you violate your conscience out of com- 
 plaisance to flesh and blood? Who will comfort you 
 when your conscience accuses and condemns you? 
 
 What happiness can there be in life, liberty or friends, — 
 
 when inward peace is taken away? Consider well 
 what you do. 
 
 3. Is not the public interest of Christ and his cause 
 infinitely more important than any interest of your 
 
 own, and should you not prefer his glory and the wel-. 
 
 fare of his kingdom before every thing else? Should 
 any temporary suffering, or any sacrifice which you 
 ean be called to make, be suffered to come into com- 
 petition with the honor of his name? 
 
 . 4. Did the Redeemer neglect your interest and think 
 lightly of you, when for your sake he endured suffer- 
 
 he 
 wt 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. ¢3 
 
 ings between which and yours there can be no com- 
 parison? Did he hesitate and shrink back? No: “ He 
 endured the cross, despising the shame.” And did he 
 with unbroken patience and constancy endure so much 
 for you; and will you flinch from momentary suffer- 
 ing in his cause? 
 5. Can you so easily cast off the society and the pri- 
 vileges of the saints and go over to the enemy’s side ? 
 _ Are you willing to withhold your support from those 
 who are determined to persevere, and throw your in- 
 fluence in the scale against them? Rather let your 
 body and soul be rent asunder. “If any man draw 
 back, my soul shall have no pleasure in him.” 
 _ 6, How can you stand before Christ in the day. of 
 judgment, if you desert him now? “ He that is ashamed 
 of meand of my words in this adulterous and sinful 
 generation, of him shall the Son of man be ashamed 
 when he cometh in the glory of his Father with the 
 holy angels.” Yet a little while, and the Son of man 
 _ will come in the clouds of heaven, with power and 
 | great glory, to judge the world. He will sit upon the 
 throne of judgment, while all the nations are brought 
 _ before him. Imagine yourself now to be witnessing 
 | the transactions of that day. Behold the wicked; be- 
 hold the apostates; and hear the consuming sentence 
 _ which is pronounced upon them, and see them sinking 
 in the gulf of infinite and everlasting wo! And will 
 _ you desert Christ now, will you forsake his cause to 
 save a little suffering, or to protract an unprofitable life 
 ' on earth, and thus expose yourself to the doom of the 
 apostate? Remember, that if you can silence the re- 
 | monstrances of conscience now, you cannot hinder the 
 | sentence of the Judge then. By these means keep 
 
 | your heart, that it depart net from the living God. 
 
$4 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 XII. The last season which I shall mention, in which — 
 the heart must be kept with all diligence, is when we 
 are warned by sickness that our dissolution is at hand. 
 When the child of God draws nigh to eternity, the ad- 
 versary makes his last effort; and as he cannot win 
 the soul from God, as he cannot dissolve the bond © 
 which unites the soul to Christ, his great design is to © 
 awaken fears of death, to fill the mind with aversion: 
 and horror at the thoughts of dissolution from the i 
 body. Hence, what shrinking from a separation, what 
 fear to grasp death’s cold hand, and unwillingness to 
 depart, may sometimes be observed in the people of 
 God. But we ought to die, as well as live, like saints. 
 
 I shail offer several considerations calculated to help 
 the people of God in time of sickness, to keep their 
 hearts loose from all earthly objects, and cheerfully 
 willing to die. 
 
 1. Death is harmless to the people of God; its shafts 
 leave no sting in them. Why then are you afraid that 
 your sickness may be unto death? If you were to die _ 
 in your sins; if death were to reign over you as a ty- 
 rant, to feed upon you as a lion doth upon his prey; 
 if death to you were to be the precursor of hell, then 
 you might reasonably startle and shrink back from it 
 with horror and dismay. But if your sins are blotted 
 out; if Christ has vanquished death in your behalf, so 
 that you have nothing to encounter but bodily pain, 
 aud possibly not even that; if death will be to you the 
 harbinger of heaven, why should you be afraid? why 
 not bid it welcome? It cannot hurt you; it is easy 
 and harmless; it is like putting off your clothes, or 
 taking rest. 
 
 2. It may keep your heart from shrinking back, to 
 consider that death is necessary to fit you for the full 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. 95 
 
 enjoyment of God. Whether you are willing to die 
 or not, there certainly is no other way to complete the 
 happiness of your soul. Death must do you the kind 
 office to remove this veil of flesh, this animal life which 
 separates you from God, before you can see and enjoy 
 him fully. “Whilst we are at home in the body, we 
 are absent from the Lord.” And who would not be will- 
 ing to die for the perfect enjoyment of God? Methinks 
 one should look and sigh, like a prisoner, through 
 the grates of this mortality : “O that I had wings like 
 a dove, then would I fiy away and be at rest.” Indeed 
 most men need patience to die; buta saint, who un- 
 derstands what death will introduce him to, rather 
 needs patience to live. On his death-bed he should 
 often iook out and listen to his Lord’s coming; and 
 when he perceives his dissolution to be near, he should 
 say, “The voice of my beloved; behold he cometh, 
 leaping over the mountains, skipping over the hills.” 
 3. Consider that the happiness of heaven commences 
 immediately after death. That happiness will not be 
 deferred till the resurrection ; but as soon as death has 
 passed upon you, your soul will be swallowed up in 
 life. When you have once loosed from this shore, 
 you shall be quickly wafted to the shore of a glorious 
 _ eternity. And can you not say, I desire to be dissolved, 
 _ and to be with Christ? Did the soul and body die to- 
 gether, or did they sleep till the resurrection, as some 
 have fancied, it would have been folly for Paul to de- 
 sire a dissolution for the enjoyment of Christ; because 
 he would have enjoyed more in the body than he could 
 _ have enjoyed out of it. 
 The Scripture speaks of but two ways in which the 
 _ soul can properly live: viz. by faith and vision. These 
 two comprehend its present and future existence. 
 
ae 
 
 96 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 Now, if when faith fails, sight should not immediately 
 succeed, what would become of the soul? But the 
 truth on this subject is clearly revealed in Scripture, r 
 See Luke, 23: 3; John, 14: 3, &c. What a blessed © 
 change then will death make in your condition! Rouse — 
 up, dying saint, and rejoice; let death do his work, 
 that the angels may conduct your soul to the world of 
 light. 
 
 4, It may increase your willingness to die, to reflect — 
 that by death God often removes his people out of the 
 way of great troubles and temptations. When some 
 extraordinary calamity is coming upon the world, 
 God‘sometimes removes his saints out of the way of 
 the evil. Thus Methuselah died the year before the 
 fiood; Augustine a litile before the sacking of Hippo; 
 Pareus just before the taking of Heidelburg. Luther 
 observes that all the apostles died before the destruc- 
 tion of Jerusalem; and Luther himself died before the 
 wars broke out in Germany. Now it may be that by 
 death you wil escape some grievous trial, which you — 
 could not and need not endure. But if no extraordi- 
 nary trouble would come upon you in case your life 
 were prolonged, yet God designs by death to relieve 
 you from innumerable evils and burdens which are 
 inseparable from the present state. Thus you will be 
 delivered from indwelling sin, which is the greatest 
 trouble; from all temptations from whatever source ; 
 from bodily tempers and embarrassments ; and from 
 all the afflictions and sorrows of this life. The days 
 of your mourning will be ended, and God will wipe 
 away all tears from your eyes. Why then should you 
 not hasten to depart 2 ? 
 
 5. If you still linger, like Lot in Sodom, what are 
 your pleas and pretences for a longer life? Why are” 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. s7 
 
 you unwilling to die? Are you concerned for the wel- 
 fare of your reiations? I{so, are you anxious for their 
 temporal support? Then let the word of God satisfy 
 you: “Leave thy fatherless children to me, I will 
 keep them alive, and let thy widows trust in me.” 
 Luther says, in his last will, “ Lord, thou hast given 
 me a wife and children, I have nothing to leave them, 
 but T-ommit them unto thee. O Father ofthe father- 
 less and Judge of widows, nourish, keep and teach 
 them.” 
 
 But are you concerned for the spiritual welfare ot 
 your relations? Remember that you cannot convert 
 them, if you should live; and God can make your pray- 
 ers and counsels effectual when you are dead. 
 
 Perhaps you desire to serve God -longer in this 
 world. But ifhe has nothing further for you to do 
 here, why not say with David, “ Here am If, let him 
 do what seemeth him good.” Heis calling you to high- 
 er service in heaven, and can accomplish by other 
 hands what you desire to do further here—Do you 
 feel too imperfect to go to heaven? Consider that 
 you must be imperfect until ycu die; your sanctifica- 
 tion cannot be complete until yon get to heaven. 
 
 * But,’ you say, ‘I want assurance; if I had that I 
 could die easily.’ Consider, then, that a hearty will- 
 | ingness to leave all the world to be freed from sin, and 
 
 to be with God, is the direct way to that desired assu- 
 rance; no carnal person was ever willing to die upon 
 this ground. 
 
 Thus I have shown how the people of God, in the 
 most difficult seasons, may keep their hearts with all 
 diligence. 
 
 I now proceed to improve and apply the subject: 
 
 L You have seen that — keeping of the heart is 
 K. the Heart. 
 
| 
 
 the great work of a Christian, in which the very sou. — 
 and life of religion consists, and without which all 
 other duties are of no value in thesight of God. Henee, 
 to the consternation of hypocrites and formal proleay 
 sors, I infer, | 
 1. That the pains and labors which many persons — 
 have undergone in religion are of no value, and will 
 turn to no good account. Many splendid services have 
 been performed by men, which God will utterly reject: 
 they will not stand on record in order to an eternal 
 acceptance, because the performers took no heed to 
 keep their hearts with God. This is that fatal rock on 
 which thousands of vain professors dash and ruin them- 
 selves eternally; they are exact about the externals of 
 religion, but regardless of their hearts. O how many 
 hours have some professors spent in hearing, praying, — 
 reading and conferring! and yet, as to the main end of y 
 religion, they might as well have sat still and done no- 
 thing, the great work, I mean heart-work, being all the 
 while neglected. Tell me, vain professor, when did 
 you shed a tear for the deadness, hardness, unbelief or 
 earthliness of your heart? And do you think your ea- 
 sy religion can save you? If so, you must invert a 
 Christ’s words, and say, Wide is the gate and broad *) 
 is the way that leadeth to life, and many there be that 4 
 goin thereat! Hear me, ye self- deluding hypoerite j ; 4 
 you who have put off God with heartless duties; you 
 who have acted in religion as if you had beem blessing ~ 
 an idol; you who could not search your heart, and , 
 regulate it, and exercise it in your performances; how 
 will you abide the coming of the Lord ?. how will you 
 hold up your head before him, when he shall say, 
 ‘O you dissembling. false-hearted man! how could — a 
 you profess religion ? with what face could you s0 a ; 
 
 98 ON KEEPING THE HEART 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. $9 
 
 often tell me that you loved me, when you knew in 
 your conscience that your heart was not with me? 
 O tremble to think what a fearful judgment it is to be 
 given over toa heedless and careless heart, and then 
 to have religious duties instead of a rattle to quiet and 
 still the conscience ! 
 
 2. Linfer for their humiliation, that unless the people 
 of God spend more time and pains about their hearts 
 than they ordinarily do, they are never like to do God 
 much service, or to possess much comfort in this world. 
 I may say of that Christian who is remiss and care- 
 less in keeping his heart, as Jacob said of Reuben, 
 Thou shalt not excel. It grieves me to see how many 
 Christians there are who live at a poor, low rate, both 
 of service and comfort, and who go up and down de- 
 jected and complaining. But how can they expect 
 it should be otherwise, while they live so carelessly ? 
 O how little of their time is spent in the closet, in 
 searching, humbling, and quickening their hearts ! 
 
 Christian, you say your heart is dead, and do you 
 wonder that it is, so long as you keep it not with the 
 fountain of life? If your body had been dieted as your 
 soul has, that would have been dead too. And you 
 may never expect that your heart will be in a better 
 state until you take more pains with it. 
 
 O Christians! I fear your zeal and strength have 
 run in the wrong channel; I fear that most of us may 
 take up the Church’s complaint: “ They have made 
 ‘me the keeper of the vineyards, but mine own vine- 
 
 yard have I not kept.” Two things have eaten up the 
 time and strength of the professors of this genera- 
 tion, and sadly diverted them from heart-work. 
 First :—Fruitless controversies, started by Satan, I 
 »doubt not for the very purpose of taking us off from 
 
100 ON KEEPING THE HEART 
 
 practical godliness, to make us puzzle our heads when § 
 
 we should be inspecting our hearts. How little have 
 we regarded the observation: “It is a good thing that — 
 the heart be established with grace, and not with — 
 meats,” (that is, with disputes and controversies about — 
 meats,) “ which have not profited them that have been — 
 occupied therein.” How much better it is to see men © 
 live exactly, than to hear them dispute with subtlety! _ 
 These unfruitful questions, how have they rent the 
 churches, wasted time and spirits, and taken Chris- 
 tians off from their main business! What think you, 
 would it not have been better if the questions agitated 
 among the people of God of late had been such as 
 these :—“ How shall a man distinguish the special from — 
 the common operations of the Spirit? How may a — 
 soul discern its first backslidings from God? How — 
 mav a backsliding Christian recover his first love? — 
 How may the heart be preserved from unseasonable ~ 
 thoughts in duty ? How may a bosom sin be disco- — 
 vered and mortified ?” &ce. Would not this course — 
 have tended more to the honor of religion and the com- — 
 fort of souls 2? Iam ashamed that the professors of this . 
 generation are yet insensible of their folly. O that — 
 God would turn their disputes and contentions into — 
 practical godliness ! 
 
 Second :—Worldly cares and incumbrances have 
 
 greatly increased the neglect of cur hearts. The heads 
 and hearts of multitudes have been filled with such a 
 crowd and noise of worldly business that they have 
 , 
 
 ——— ——<—<—l 
 
 lamentably declined in their zeal, their love, their de- 
 light in God, and their heavenly, serious, and profitable 
 way of conversing with men. How miserably have 
 we entangled ourselves in this wilderness of trifles ! 
 Our discourses, our conferences, nay, our very prayers 
 
ON EEEPING THE HEART. 101 
 are tinged with it. We have had so much to do with- 
 out, that we have been able to do but little within. 
 And how many precious opportunities have we thus 
 lost? How many admonitions of the Spirit have pass- 
 ed over unfruitfully 2 How often has the Lord called 
 to us, when our worldly thoughts have prevented us 
 from hearing? But there certainly is a way to enjoy 
 God even in our worldly employments. If we lose 
 our views of him when engaged in our temporal af- 
 fairs, the fault is our own. Alas! that Christians 
 should stand at the door of eternity, having more work 
 upon their hands than their time is sufficient for, and 
 yet be filling their heads and hearts with trifles ! 
 
 3. L infer, lastly, for the awakening of all, that if the 
 keeping of the heart be the great work of a Christian, 
 then there are but few real Christians in the world. If 
 every one who has learned the dialect of Christianity, 
 and who can talk like a saint; ifevery one who has 
 gifts and parts, and who can make shift to preach, 
 pray, or discourse like a Christian: in a word, if all 
 such as associate with the people of God and partake 
 of ordinances may pass for Christians, then indeed the 
 number is great. But alas! how few can be found, if 
 you judge them by this rule,—how few are there who 
 conscientiously keep their hearts, watch their thoughts 
 and look scrupulously to their motives! Indeed there 
 are few closel-men among proiessors. It 1s easier luc 
 men to be reconciled to any other duties in religion 
 than to these. The profane part of the world will not 
 so much as meddle with the outside of any religious 
 duties, and least of all with those; and as to the hy- 
 pocrite, though he may be very particular in externals, 
 you can never persuade him to undertake this inward, 
 this difficult work ; this work, to which there is no in- 
 
 g* 
 
7 
 102 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 7 
 
 ducement from human applause; this work, which 
 would quickly discover what the hypocrite cares not 
 to know: so that by general consent this heart-work 
 is left to the hands ofa few retired ones, and I tremble 
 to think in how few hands itis. 
 
 If. If the keeping of the heart be so important a 
 business; ifsuch great advantages result from it; if 
 so many valuable interests be wrapt up in it, then let ” 
 me call upon the people of God every where to en- 
 gage heartily in this work. © study your hearts, — 
 watch your hearts, keep your hearts! Away with fruit- 
 less controversies and all idle questions; away with 
 _ empty names and vain shows; away with unprofita- 
 ble discourse and bold censures of others, and turn 
 in upon yourselves. O that this day, this hour, you 
 would resolve upon doing so! 
 
 Reader, methinks I shall prevail with you. All that 
 I beg for is this, that you would step aside oftene: to 
 talk with God and your own heart; that you would 
 not suffer every trifle to divert you; that you would 
 keep a more true and faithful account of your thoughts 
 and affections; that you would seriously demand of — 
 your own heart at least every evening, ‘O my heart, 
 where hast thou been to-day, and what has engaged 
 thy thoughts ? 
 
 If all that has been said by way of inducement be 
 not enough, I have yet some motives to offer you. 
 
 1. The studying, observing, and diligeutly keeping | 
 your own heart, will surprisingly help you to under- ~ 
 stand the deep mysteries of religion. An honest, well- 
 experienced heart is an excellent help to the head. 
 Such a heart will serve fora commentary on a great 
 part of the Scriptures. By means of such a heart you 
 will have a better understanding of divine things than 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. 103 
 
 the most Jearned (graceless) man ever had, or can 
 have ; you will not only have a clearer, but a more 
 interesting and profitable apprehension of them. A 
 man may discourse orthodoxly and profoundly of the 
 nature and effects of faith, the troubles and comforts 
 of conscience, and the sweetness of communion with 
 God, who never felt the efficacy and sweet impression 
 of these things upon hisown soul. But how dark and 
 dry are his notions compared with those of an expe- 
 rienced Christian! 
 
 2. The study and observation of your own heart will 
 powerfully secure you against the dangerous and in- 
 fecting errors of the times in which ycu live. For what 
 think you is the reason why so many professors have 
 departed from the faith, giving heed to fables? why 
 have so many been led away by the error of the wick- 
 ed? why have those who have sown corrupt doctrines 
 had such plentiful harvests among us, but because they 
 have met with a race of professors who never knew 
 what belongs to practical godliness and the study and 
 keeping of their hearts ? 
 
 3. Your care and diligence in keeping your heart 
 will prove one of the best evidences of your sincerity. 
 I know no external act of religion which truly distin- 
 guishes the sound from the unsound professor. Itis 
 marvellous how far hypocrites go inall external du- 
 ties; how plausibly they can order the outward man, 
 hiding all their indecencies from the observation cf the 
 world. But they take no heed to their hearts; they 
 are not in secret what they appear to be in public; 
 and before this test no hypocrite can siand. They 
 may, indeed, in a fit of terror, or on a death-bed, ery 
 out of the wickedness of their hearts; but sucn extort- 
 ed complaints are worthy ofno regard. No credit, in 
 
104 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 * 
 
 law, is to be given to the testimony of one upon the 
 rack, because it may be supposed that the extremity of 
 his torture will make him say any thing to get relief. 
 But if self-jealousy, care and watchfulness be the 
 daily workings and frames of your heart, you have 
 some evidence of your sincerity. 
 
 4. How comfortable and how profitable would all 
 ordinances and duties be to you, if your heart was 
 faithfully kept. What lively communion might you 
 have with God every time you approach him, if your 
 heart was in aright frame! You might then say with 
 David, “My meditation of Him shall be sweet.” It is 
 the indisposition of the heart which renders ordinances, 
 and secret duties so comfortless to some. They strive 
 to raise their hearts to God, now pressing this argu- 
 ment upon them, then that, to quicken and affect them ; 
 yet they often get nearly through the exercise before 
 their hearts begin to be interested in it; and some- 
 times they go away no better than they came. But 
 the Christian whose heart is prepared by being con- 
 stantly kept, enters immediately and heartily into his 
 cuties; he outstrips his sluggish neighbor, gets the 
 first sight of Christ in a sermon, the first seal from 
 Christ in a sacrament, the first communication of grace 
 and love in secret prayer. Now if there be any thing 
 valuable and comfortable in ordinances and private du- 
 ties, look to your heart and keep it, 1 beseeen you, 
 
 5. An acquaintance with your own heart will fur- 
 nish you a fountain of matter in prayer. The man 
 who is diligent in heart-work, will be richly supplied 
 with matter in his addresses to God. He will not be 
 confused for want of thoughts; his tongue will not 
 falter for want of expressions. ; 
 
 6. The most desirable thing in the world, viz. the 
 
ON KEEPING THE WEART. 105 
 
 revival of religion among a people, may be effected 
 by means of what Iam urging upon you. 
 
 O that I might see the time when professors shall not 
 waik in a vain show; when they shall please them- 
 selves no more with a name to live, while they are spi- 
 ritually dead ; when they shall be no more a company 
 of frothy, vain persons ; but when holiness shall shine 
 in their conversation, and awe the world, and com- 
 mand reverence from all that are around them ; when 
 they shall warm the heart of those who come near 
 them, and cause it to be said, God is in these men of 
 atruth. And may such a time be expected? Until 
 heart-work becomes the business of professors, I have 
 no hope of seeing a time so blessed! Does it not 
 grieve you to sec how religion is contemned and trem- 
 pled under foot, and the professors of it ridiculed and 
 scorned in the world? Professors, would you recover 
 your eredit? would you obtain an honorable testimo- 
 ny in the consciences of your very enemies? Then 
 keep your hearts. 
 
 7. By diligence in keeping our hearts we should 
 prevent the occasions of fatal scandals and stumbling- 
 blocks to the world. Wo to the world because of 
 offences ! ‘ 
 
 Keep your heart faithfully, and you will be prepar- 
 ed for any situation or service to which you may be 
 called. This, and this only can properly fit you for 
 usefulness in any station; but with this you can en- 
 dure prosperity or adversity ; you can deny yourself, 
 and turn your hand to any work. Thus Paul turned 
 every circumstance to good account, and made him- 
 self so eminently useful. When he preached to others, 
 he provided against being cast away himself: he kept 
 his heart ; and every thing in which he excelled seems 
 
106 ON KEEPING THE HEART. 
 
 to have had a close connection with his diligence in 
 keeping his heart. 
 
 9. If the people of God would diligently keep their 
 hearts, their communion with each other would be 
 unspeakably more inviting and profitable. ‘Then “how 
 goodly would be thy tents, O Jacob, and thy taberna- 
 cles, O Israel!” It is the fellowship which the people 
 
 of God have with the Father and with the Son that 
 kindles the desires of others to have communion with 
 them. I tell you, that if saints would be persuaded to 
 spend more time and take more pains about their 
 hearts, there would soon be such a divine excellence 
 in their conversation that others would account it no 
 small privilege to be with or near them. It is the pride, 
 passion and earthliness of our hearts, that has spoiled 
 Christian fellowship. Why is it that when Christians 
 meet they are often jarring and contending, but be- 
 cause their passions are unmortified ? Whence come 
 their uncharitable censures of their brethren, but from 
 their ignorance of themselves? Why are they so rigid 
 and unfeeling toward those who have fallen, but 
 because they do not fee! their own weakness and lia- 
 bility to temptation? Why. is their diseourse so light 
 and unprofitablé when they meet, but because their 
 hearts are earthly and vain? But now, if Christians 
 would study their hearts more and keep them better, 
 the beauty and glory of communion would be restored. 
 They would divide no more, contend no more, cen- 
 sure rashly no more. They will feel right one toward 
 another, when each is daily humbled under a sense of 
 the evil of his own heart. 
 
 10. Lastly :—IKeep your heart, and then the com- 
 forts of the Spirit and the influence of all ordinances 
 will be more fixed and lasting than they now are 
 
ON KEEPING THE HEART. 107 
 
 " And do the consolations of God seem small to you ?” 
 Ah, you have reason to be ashamed that the ordinances 
 of God, as to their quickening and comforting effects, 
 should make so light and transient an impression on 
 your heart. 
 
 Now, reader, consider well these special benefits of 
 keeping the heart which I have mentioned. Examine 
 their importance. Are they small matters? Is ita 
 small matter to have your understanding assisted ? 
 your endangered soul rendered safe? your sincerity 
 proved? your communion with God sweetened ? vour 
 heart filled with matter for prayer? Is it a small thing 
 to have the power of godliness ? all fatal scandals re- 
 moved? an instrumental fitness to serve Christ cb- 
 
 tained 2 the communion of saints restored to its primi- 
 tive glory ? and the influence of ordinances abiding in 
 the souls of saints 2? If these are no common blessings, 
 no ordinary benefits, then surely it is a great and in- 
 dispensable duty to keep the heart with all ciligence. 
 
 And now are you inclined to undertake the business 
 of keeping your heart? are you resolved upon it? I 
 charge you, then, to engage in it earnestly. Away with 
 every cowardly feeling, and make up your mind to en- 
 counter difficulties. Draw your armar from the word 
 of God. Let the word of Curist dwell in you richly, in 
 its commands, its promises, its threatenings ; let it be 
 fixed in your understanding, your memory, your con- 
 science, your affections. You must learn to wield the © 
 sword of the Spirit (which is the werd of God) familiar- 
 ly, if you would defend your heart and conquer your 
 enemies. You must call yourself frequently to an ac- 
 count; examine yourself as in the presence of the all- 
 seeing God; bring your conscience, as it were, to the 
 ber of judgment. Beware how you plunge yourself 
 
; 
 103 ON KEEPING THE HEART: “| 
 into a multiplicity of worldly business; how you prac. 
 “tise upon the maxims of the world; and how you ven- 
 ture at all to indulge your depraved propensities. 
 You must exercise the utmost vigilance to discover — 
 and check the first symptoms of departure from Ged, 
 the least decline of Spirituality, or the least indisposi-_ 
 tion to meditation by yourself, and holy conversation — 
 and fellowship with others, These things you must — 
 undertake, in the strength of Christ, with invincible re-_ 
 solution in the outset. And if you thus engage i 
 this great work, be assured you shall not spend y 
 strength for naught; comforts which you never fe 
 or thought of will flow in upon you from every side. 
 The diligent prosecution of this work will constantly 
 afford you the most powerful excitements to vigilance 
 and ardor in the life of faith, while it increases yo 
 strength and wears out your enemies. And when you 
 have kept your heart with all diligence a little while 
 when you have fought the battles of this spiritual war- 
 fare, gained the ascendancy over the corruptions with- 
 in, and vanquished the enemies without, then God will 
 open the gate of heaven to you, and give you the por- 
 tion which is promised to them that overcome. Awake 
 then, this moment; get the world under your feet, 
 pant not for the things which a man may have, and 
 eternally lose his soul; but bless God that you may — 
 have his service here, and the glory hereafter which _ 
 he appoints to his chosen. 7 
 _“ Now the God of peace, that brought again from the } 
 dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, : 
 through the blood of the everlasting covenant, make you — 
 perfect in every good work to do his will, working in you — 
 that which ts well pleasing in his sight, through Jesus _ 
 Christ; to whom be glory for ever and ever, Amen.” 
 
 etter eel 
 
DATE DUE 
 
 FeO 4 
 
922 
 
 FR So RE RT 
 
1 UI